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#AVERAGE DOG OPINION
shigure · 2 years
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vtubers aren't actually as cringe as you want them to be especially indie vtubers lol. there's very much a critique to be had of the cutesy designs and baby voices some of them do+why they do that. and there's very much a critique to be had of the insane idol culture a small but significant group of fans perpetuate. but outside of that on the whole it's literally just "streamer that isn't showing their real face." nobody has a problem with that when you use a cartoon animal doodle stand-in. if i told you there's an orc vtuber you'd probably think that was cool because he's "doing something interesting with it." and i can agree with that. but if you've got an actual problem with the idea of using an anime character avatar in and of itself, that's on you for being so self conscious about liking anime as a teenager that as an adult you can't even witness someone else having fun without reminding them that they're lame nerds.
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freakystinky · 3 months
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the way tumblr talks about medicine makes me wonder how many of us here actually have critical thinking skills
#stop trying to explain shit you know nothing about so you can frame it negatively for clout!!!! literally knock it off!!!#there are so many valid opinions but i don’t understand this and therefore it’s bad “ is NOT one of them actually#fuck it’s far from perfect but seeing people talk about people I work with every day as if they’re monsters is honestly so tiring#it’s just all over my dash#if you read something and it confuses you and that makes you angry#the solution is NOT to make a tumblr post flaming it with all of your misinformation and undereducated opinions#“it is batshit to base dx criteria on statistics “ NO IT IS NOT NO IT IS NOT NO IT IS NOT ARE YOU STUPID???????#THIS IS STEM LITERALLY EVERYTHING IS MATH WHAT THE HELL DO YOU M E A N ?????#literally like!!! 90% of dx criteria involves statistical probability!!!! doctors prescribe statins because you are statistically likely#to develop heart disease or endure a major cardiac event#like they calculate your disease risk based on averages and so so so much data and math and shit THAT YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT!!!!#so why are you complaining about it as if you do!!!!!!!!#sorry. I know it’s in good faith for the most part but. it feels like straight entitlement to constantly complain and dog on doctors#I’m a victim of medical malpractice!!! i still show respect and understand that they’re individuals. people. human beings.#who are largely trying to help others#regardless of my personal experience with others in their field#sorry this is just a vent now#i love research I love science I love medicine please stop hating on every aspect of it and my community ty#delete later#not fandom#stinky speaks
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jedi-starbird · 3 months
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the codywan dynamic is so weird cat and random guy who the universe was like 'woe! cat be upon ye!' coded
Obi-Wan: looks very dignified but alas he is orange boy cat, constantly tries to get into things, he is gripped by the need to investigate, 5 more braincells than average but he uses all of them for crimes
Cody: did not want a cat, has never in his life asked for a cat, he just found obi-wan in his room one day. the bastard will not leave. when asked, he says he'd sell the bastard to Satan for a single corn chip but Gregor has pics of them cuddling. he is told one can not train a cat like a dog. a coward's opinion. Obi-Wan can do so many tricks now.
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austinsastrology8991 · 10 months
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> MC ASPECTS < How you renowned around town “You make your own reality. And once you’ve done it, apparently, everyone’s of the opinion it was all so fucking obvious.” - Logan - Fucking - ROy
!!parental advisory explicit!!
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MC Aspecting Sun - “rome, I think you're a super talented superstar and I love you” - Shiv Roy : Its hard not to notice you, you got a poise of regality, and you work the public sphere with ease; you put yourself out there and you get a lot of attention from onlookers - and it makes you one of a kind. you are someone with dignity and maybe too much self respect for some, to give you the credit that you do deserve > because no one does it quite like you - high key a dominant force in any room you enter - wolf of wall street vibes and lets be honest you are not above having a party at the office... and paying hookers to make it more cool...... you do the most and its a vibe vibe MC Aspecting Moon - "They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra just for you" - Therapist in succession You know how to put people at ease, and your basically a professional therapist at this point. You can lighten up anyones mood or piss everyone off depending on how you feel. And this understanding of psychology really benefits you; because people want to treat you right, so you can give them some insight as to why they have a mental breakdown every 5 minutes (this generations daily cycle) your like a dog that lives in a hair-salon and everyone wanna get a cuddle from it/he/she/thing/you
MC Aspecting Mercury - “Information, Greg, it’s like a bottle of fine wine. You store it, you hoard it, you save it for a special occasion and then you smash someone’s face with it.” - Tom Wambsgams When you stfu people are wondering what your thinking. because somehow. someway. you've taken control of the conversation, and whatever you say is taken with heavier consideration then the average person. However that does not mean you get your way, it just means we listen to you the most - easily the most valuable insight comes from you guys, and your perceived as. a hustler. no wonder your careful with ur words because you dont really care about getting the right answer in the known, if that ultimately inteferes with your master plan you'll just stay quiet - because you know how to navigate the world with words, and your aware that ultimately the final word - the best word - is the deciding factor of what we do MC Aspecting Venus - "Here’s the thing about being rich, okay? It’s fucking great. It’s like being a superhero, only better. You get to do what you want — the authorities can’t really touch you. You get to wear a costume, but it’s designed by Armani and it doesn’t make you look like a prick." - Tom Wambsgams Beauty pageants. Everyone is interested in you, because your beautiful and your graceful, and you'd make a fine edition to the list of exes that everyone has. So besides the fact that your fuckable, you know how to charm people so easily and thats why you get so much attention, and its positive unless your insecure about how attractive you are.... which is a real thing... and id say just get that plastic surgery or stfu and find some real solutions. i mean has anyone ever tried to tell a beautiful person, that they beautiful.... its exhausting... and then they just look for someone else (more beautiful) to get that validation. its a death trap!!! dont fall for that bs... but damn yo fine ass better get used to being a fine ass or someone gonna commit a crime on yo ass MC Aspecting Mars - "I got a track record from founding one of the most exciting new media brands in the world. And what do you got? Track marks from shooting junk? Thanks for coming down. It was great to meet you." - Lawyrence Yee Unfuckwitable - you embody the underdog - and i mean an under dog thorugh and through; youll bark at anything that pisses yall offf, and thats why people watch they step around yall, no one wanna get bitten by da big dog with a small dog complex. but your fierce and people try their best to match your aggressive energy just to save face for themselves - meanwhile your just more pissed off that you always gotta show yo teeth to anyone you talk to lol. Your competitive and act like crackhead that knows karate. everyone is low key intimidated by ya, and you know it
MC Aspecting Jupiter - "Most things don't exist. the ford motor company hardly exists. It's just a time saving expression for a collection of financial interests." - Logan RoyEveryone likes you, and sometimes you don't even understand why, and thats just another reason to like you. You show a geniune uninterest in any boring mundane activities > and this lack of care for bullshit makes it so that when you do show an interest for something > you've somehow convinced everyone in the room that your enthusiasm defines whats enjoyable. and this discernment makes others believe that your the new budha for socio-economic observations . I respect it. and you did it without even realizing, like thats a feat initself, and you guys are 100 feet tall in everyone elses eyes because you got a name fo yo self MC aspecting Saturn - "the actual fact is we're persuading more and more shareholders everyday that we offer them just a slightly better chance for them to make a little bit more money on the dollar…and that's all that this is…." - Stewy Hosseini The boss is here and now everyone gotta actually do something productive. you guys have respect, and people know that if they don't come at you correctly, then you'll correct it for them, and no one wanna be daddied by the king kong daddy. Your life is defined by hardships and this is the most noticeable trait about yall, and it has molded you into a gus fring. A stone cold killer. You don't have to say much but the weight of your presence in itself, is so much pressure, that everyone wanna ask for more time, but no one wanna be scolded by yall so we just stfu and deal with it MC Aspecting Uranus - "Nothing is a line. Everything, everywhere is always moving. Forever. Get used to it." - Logan Roy Who is they? who are we? why can they get away with acting like a complete fucking retard? Well they don't 'get away with it' they just fucking do it. I mean the balls on ya'll is undeniable, but the audacity and the concept of why. well no one knows and I don't think you do either. But you literally change the game wherever you go, because you do ridiculous shit just to make fun of reality, and it really does expose how much of a cult we all live in; since we all about our own rituals of bullshit. I applaud the audacity but everyone gets nervous around your unpredictable nervous explosions - your like a charged creeper; youve been shocked by something and now you just have to explode and ruin everyones buildings
MC Aspecting Neptune - "Climate said I was going down. Climate said I should just step aside. I guess I'm a climate denier" - Logan Roy You're imagination personified. You somehow write your favourite stories into reality > and you do this so uncosnciosuly thst you've somehow convinced everyone its real. You don't care much for whats actually real, you'd rather manifest what you want to be real > no matter whats being thrown at you (and theres a lot) you have a uncanny ability to be a energy conduit > and transform that energy into what pleases you the most. And because of this you appear to be a mystic. and theres a tendency to be very calm, and if life throws too much shit at you > and you've ran outta favours, its adios to the world. and the long road of finding your purpose again awaits! MC Aspecting Pluto - "Would you like to hear my favourite passage from Shakespear? Take the fucking money." - Logan Roy You are daunting aren't you. people don't talk to you very much, at least not any normal self abiding citizen. you look like TMNT - you look neglected > look like you ate some radioactive poison > became this mutant thing > and was raised by a rat that could beat your ass... how'd that go? you look great! I would shake your hand but Im honestly afraid your gonna bite me. Look your life is intense and borderline traumatic, I get it. but this makes you so mesmerising > you can have the whole room in a trance with your dark aura, and people just hand you power like its nothing. You don't even care tho, and thats what makes you even more powerful lol > if anyone can handle the dark. its you > and a powerful 'rep' requires someone who doesn't fuck around. and you do not
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highly highly recommend succession > all the quotes used are from dat show - and its a fkn masta piece
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beggars-opera · 6 months
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You hate classic lit because:
Your were forced to read it in high school, and no one likes to be forced to do anything in school
Your teacher failed to explain that important things aren't always objectively enjoyable
Your class was focused on picking the book apart at the expense of appreciating the story or, more importantly, the context of the book and why you should care
You think that the book has to be relevant and nonthreatening to you to be worth reading
I had an English teacher in high school tell me word for word that Charles Dickens was the filet mignon of literature, and that my class clearly only liked hot dogs. I had another teacher ask me what I thought the meaning of a poem was and then told me that my interpretation was objectively wrong.
But I've also seen other teachers explaining what made a book a classic, why people at the time loved it, what new ideas or writing styles it pioneered, or what historical events it inspired. And I've read, throughout my life, plenty of classics without the constraints of an educational setting, and thoroughly enjoyed them. Hell, I've taken Les Miserables to the beach.
There have also been books that I have read and not enjoyed! Sometimes they had themes that I hated, but as a historian I can put those themes in context and still learn from the work as a whole. Sometimes I just didn't like the story, but I can accept that my ideal plotline doesn't always mesh with that of an average person in 1788. I also know when books feel disjointed because they were originally serialized, or paid by the word, or written in a dialect and culture not my own. And now I'm an adult, and I can choose to finish them or put them down.
The point is I encourage you to revisit books you once had to read and hated, or books you never had to read but have avoided because they fall in the same category. As an adult you get to make your own choices and form your own opinions, and that freedom allows you to dive as deeply or shallowly into literature as you want. You may never like War and Peace, but you might also find that you enjoy more than you thought you would.
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copperbadge · 6 months
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Lying in bed this morning, working on a bit in the novel about defining "shoulder season" for the reader, I realized what my personal aesthetic is currently: Tourist Gothic.
Tourist Gothic as a fashion statement is based on the following precepts.
1. Comfort. Comfortable, weather-appropriate clothing is rarely glamorous, but I'm not here to win Drag Race. I'm on vacation and wearing what best combines 'I like how I look in this so you don't have to' with 'I can wander around a strange place for hours.' If everyone you meet is someone you'll never see again, their opinion of you is irrelevant.
2. Loudness. My traveling companions need to be able to spot me easily. A bright floral print or a weird hat is just the thing. (Protip if you like me are prone to wandering away from the group, a really weird hat is the best way to make sure they can find you. I have a newsboy cap with wings sewn onto it for just such a purpose.)
3. Delight. Where else but on vacation can I wear my Costco Hot Dog t-shirt? On vacation it's appropriate whether I'm at a sausage sizzle, a football match, or an art museum.
4. Utility. If I have to, I can wash my entire wardrobe in a hotel room sink. The socks can be soaked and frozen in a plastic bag to use as an ice pack. Everything has pockets and nothing hurts.
5. Sincerity. Nothing a tourist wears is worn ironically. Commitment to the bit must be total.
The central precept of the look is that one is too concerned with both comfort and adventure to conform to dress code. I don't want to blend in, I want you to take me to the best local cuisine you have and overcharge me for it. I am here to admire your architecture and support your economy. Now just apply all that to everyday life, and boom. Tourist Gothic.
If you're wondering how this differs from everyday Dad Wear, your average Tourist Goth has slightly higher emotional investment in sandals and sunscreen and a lower commitment to belts overall.
Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk, so glad to see so many of you are wearing golf shorts.
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I don't understand how Vivziepop still has a fanbase anymore that unironically still supports her after all the scenarios of controversy where she brushes it off as petty internet drama from "petty envious antis" atleast before she runs off into her crowd of chronically online and discourse obsessed problematic adults on any social media platform(Mostly Twitter to be specific but still)who are just a group of yes-men for her to use to attack not even only children on the interwebs who just happen to be uncomfortable with the fandom she's cultivated over her career of a wannabe artist and animator, but other adults too who by the way are somewhat consisting of survivors of abuse, rape, are LGBTQIA+, BIPOC, neurodivergent/disabled and possibly more. It honestly makes me sad as it does angry because the concept of the show isn't that crazily impossible in my opinion atleast and it could of had so much potential to do way better if not only the obvious subject matters were treated with much more care in an attempt to rework the scripts but also if Viv didn't do half of the stuff she did just a bad person in general. Like...is that really the best you can do for your fanbase???You cannot be not-joking atleast a little bit when you're telling me that apparently not only are children not being stopped from engaging with an 18+ rated show(even though the amount of vulgar language is done so poorly that it could pass of as your average failed Newgrounds animation), but that they're literally being encouraged to interact with the fandom???Are you out of your mind???Don't even get me started on the other stuff that you all probably already know about such as the blatant mockery of S.A., abusive relationship dynamics, hypersexuality in victims of said scenarios that happen irl, having other such "jokes" including some sort of rapey scene at all and having someone who actively and openly supports "non-con" fiction???!!!! What is wrong with you people??And apparently I have to share the home of the beautiful planet Earth with these idiots choosing to have the cognitive dissonance and brain function of an almost-empty and dusty old peanut...Along with the fact that the woman herself treats her animators at Spindlehorse Productions(her studio I suppose)like utter dog-dung, she has proven to drag anyone who defies her problematic and dare I say dangerous behavior through the mud and gets away with it all because of her stans/fans making her the "face of independent animation/indie animators". I honestly feel so awful for those who may have genuinely looked up to her at one point, atleast not knowing how much of a horrible person she was behind the scenes of the computer screen but its whatever anyways I guess. If any aspiring makers of cartoons or comics(LGBTQIA+/BIPOC/Disabled preferred) would like to promote the stuff they male down below in my comments section than feel free☆. It's the least anyone can do under the storm that's being made and has happened for such a long time ughh. The project should have been attempted a little more to be prevented from the confines of those echo-chambery and gross parts of fandom-centric social media communities and It's so discouraging how long this has been going on too, but hey. She's the lady that unironically made a literal pedo character that she attempted to present as a villain while just having the original character end up as a sort of "cool af bad-girl aesthetic uwu" character. Oh my fucking God please stop at once I swear to the highest Heavens and the deepest, most darkest depths of Hell(Ironic).
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Uptight – Jim Halpert
This is just a little cutesy one-shot with our favorite golden retriever: Jim Halpert. I think he needs more writings done with readers or even Pam. Honestly, it would just be fun to read about him more. I kinda wanna do a part 2 on this... idk... I hope you like it!!
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Everyone knew Jim Halpert. Jim Halpert knew everyone well enough. He talked to people, smiled and laughed with them, and pranked stuck up asses.
Well… except you…
You were uptight, in a work way. You never slacked off, only took off when you were sick. Which was never.
You sat with Jim and Dwight, usually typing and helping clients set up their paper orders.
Jim thought you were beautiful. So average, so basic, so perfect. Sometimes, he would wonder to himself, as he glanced at you, how different would you act outside of work?
His small friendly crush was a secret to everyone, especially you. Jim knew I’d you found out, his life, with you, would be over. Forever.
Today was a normal day in the office— you working your ass off while Jim annoyed Dwight a little by talking louder than usual.
It annoyed you as well, but you didn’t say anything.
“Anyways” Jim said to nobody on the phone, “I cannot believe that that happened!” He half yelled, making you sigh.
Jim glanced at you, his face falling. You were annoyed. He could tell by the cute frown on your face and the face you were chewing your gum a bit harsher then normal.
“I have to get back to you,” he said quietly, glancing away, “bye,”
Although it was a fake call, he set the phone down.
Glancing over at you, seeing that you were already staring back at him, made his heart flutter softly.
“Thanks,” was all you said to him, the first thing you said to him since yesterday, and soon, the receiver was up to your ear from an incoming call.
Jim felt his heart warm at your cold statement. You were like a cat, he was like a dog. How funny.
——
The rest of the day went by smoothly, in your opinion. The room had finally been put at a comfortable temperature, since some people liked it colder than others.
You looked at the clock and hummed. Exactly five, so you got up and grabbed your old red leather purse and the cardigan you brought.
Without saying goodbye, you pushed in your chair and left the office, hearing scrapes from other people’s desk chairs as they left.
Leaving the reception, when you stepped out the rain that was forecasted earlier had come ten times harder than told in the weather news this morning.
Your umbrella was in your car, which was across the street.
“Oh my gosh…” you whispered angrily to yourself, watching the cloud.
Jim walked out a few seconds behind you, seeing that you were trying to drape your favorite cardigan over your head, now looking rather annoyed.
He could help but smile, seeing he could be the knight in shining armor.
“You want me to walk you?” Jim said to your right. You looked up slightly to see the sweet smile of Jim Halpert, holding a black umbrella in between the two of you.
You hummed, looking down to hide a smile. “Yes, please,” you whispered shamefully, “I didn’t know it was going to rain this hard…”
Jim laughed. “Nor did I. This is Michael’s umbrella,”
You gasped, your eyebrows furrowing. “Jim!” You said, about to tell him off.
With the happiest laugh you heard, Jim started chuckling, showing off his cute lopsided smile.
A warmth bubbled in your stomach, your heart beating ever so much faster.
“I’m just joking,” he said cheekily, “let’s go,”
The two walked in silence, you blushing like mad, Jim smiling like a goon. It was cute for the cameras to record.
Michael watched through the blinds with the cameras, sighing.
“Office romance: the sweetest kind of romance, in my opinion."
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svsss-fanon-exposed · 2 months
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Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 22/∞
LUO BINGHE AND SHEN QINGQIU WERE MEANT TO END UP TOGETHER IN THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF PIDW
Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING
There is a somewhat common interpretation in fandom that in Airplane's original outline for PIDW, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu were meant to be together in the end. While this could be an entertaining concept, and there is a potential argument to support it, I believe that this interpretation conflicts with canon due to the fact that a contradictory intention for the original draft was directly stated.
The original idea most likely comes from the following quote:
Shang Qinghua raised his arms high. “Cucumber-bro,” he said, impassioned, “if the System hadn’t selected you, a loyal and die-hard reader, I’m afraid the plot would never have been distorted to this extent, right back to the outline I discarded..." (7 Seas, Ch. 21)
While it is certainly one possible interpretation to read this as "the plot of SVSSS is what Airplane would have written," and on first glance it does appear to be this way, I think that this has much more to do with the type of characters and the filling of plot holes, as earlier in the conversation, he says this:
"...Compared to writing the kind of stallion guy who’s everywhere on Zhongdian, it’s better to portray a male lead like the current Bing-ge, whose life is full of mishaps, whose personality is a bit more complex and full of contradictions and conflicts—that kind of weirdo. That’s more in line with my writing philosophy.” (7 Seas, Ch. 21)
Shen Qingqiu is the one who first remarks on sexuality, and Airplane defends gay protagonists, but the "original outline" seems to be more likely referencing this quote.
There is also the interesting fact of this thought:
Why did that make it sound like the System and this world were the creation of Shang Qinghua’s regrets, as an author who’d had to scrap his outline in favor of popular opinion? (7 Seas, Ch. 21)
Though this is just a side thought from Shen Qingqiu, it is an interesting thing to note nonetheless, especially if one also considers the system's original requirements:
【 One, change the nonsensical plot and raise the average IQ of the villains and supporting characters. Two, avoid landmines that break suspension of disbelief. Three, ensure the main character’s satisfaction points. Four, discover and finish hidden plot events. 】 (7 Seas, Ch. 1)
If we follow the thread of "the system as a creation of Shang Qinghua's regrets," we can pair that with the list of requirements above. Of course, that implies that there is anything specifically to read from that earlier comment of Shen Qingqiu's, which may or may not be the case.
Considering the requirements, though, the only one that specifically relates to BingQiu getting together would be "ensure the main character's satisfaction points," but it does not specify romance between those two characters as the only way to do so.
While the first passage is the one mainly used to argue for this theory, one could also use the matter of Shen Qingqiu's red thread linking to Luo Binghe to support it-- that is, if one ascribes the cut thread to either Shen Yuan's former life, or to some other party, and the current thread belonging to the identity of Shen Qingqiu (not specifically Shen Yuan, therefore meaning that it was still present with Shen Jiu). This is a fairly weak argument, but one I will still address for clarity's sake. The text specifically says the following regarding the red threads:
“Sir, about the red thread from your past—my skill is insufficient, so I can’t…see it clearly. At first glance, it seemed like you were alone, but if I look carefully, I can catch a faint glimpse of another thread.” She concluded regretfully, “This thread has been cut… Such a pity.” Shen Jiu had once had a fiancée, but Shen Yuan was a single dog! Their two threads were tangled together, so it was no surprise that the madam couldn’t see it all clearly. (7 Seas, Ch. 23)
Shen Yuan assumes the cut thread belongs to Shen Jiu-- and this makes sense, since it is only a faint glimpse. The remnant of Shen Jiu's red thread remaining attached to Shen Qingqiu's body falls in line with the way that Shen Jiu's memories also remained to some degree-- even though it is Shen Yuan's soul which now occupies the body, there are still traces of its former inhabitant. As to who Shen Jiu's cut thread belongs to, that is a topic for another post-- nonetheless, it is safe to believe that neither of these threads of the past point to Luo Binghe. Notably, there is not one single red thread that stretches from the past to the future. The options in the past are either "alone" or "severed thread," regardless of whose is whose.
Of course, despite these arguments having strengths and weaknesses, nothing thus far has proven one way or another whether Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe were intended to be together-- for that, we must go to Shang Qinghua's own thoughts and the following passage:
【 Basic completion of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s original outline achieved (slight deviation in romance plotline); objective complete. Retrieving function to return to original world; download complete. Activate Return Home sequence? 】 Basic completion of the original outline? That he agreed with. All the holes that needed to be filled had been filled. But this “slight deviation of romance plot” wasn’t quite right. Bing-ge was now fully gay; how could you say that was a “slight deviation”? Ah, fine, fine, in fact, in his original outline, Bing-ge hadn’t even had a romance plotline; he had been doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever. If you insisted on adding a romance plotline, all right, that was whatever, so putting aside all the System’s rambling…this meant he could return to his original world?! (7 Seas, Ch. 26)
This passage makes it perfectly clear that the BingQiu romance was not part of the original outline, both in the system's note of "slight deviation in romance plotline," as well as in Shang Qinghua's own words-- that the original Bing-ge wasn't intended to have a romance at all.
If it were not for this section, I would rate the theory as unsupported or perhaps as neutral, but because there is direct clarification in the above passage, it can only be said that Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu were not canonically meant to end up together in the original draft of PIDW, and that this assertion is fanon which contradicts canon.
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calware · 1 month
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dear calware, I'm not sure how much you know on the topic of Doc Scratch, but I was wondering, why is the common consensus around him that he's like a creepy pedophile? after rereading his messages with Rose, he seems more tone deaf and weird than a fully on creep. is there something I'm missing?
scratch isn't "literally" a pedophile (or a hebephile, which is the accurate term for this situation) which we know because of this
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but at the same time, that is still the Way he's written
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(i'm sorry if this following explanation is confusing.... i really do not have the right wording to describe it) it's almost like a metaphorical representation. he's a child predator in every way but the actual sexual attraction. the way he's written references the behavior of actual child predators and is meant to signal to the audience that this is the Kind Of Character he is. it's a literary tool(?)to tell the audience that he is literally taking advantage of characters in various ways (as well as straight up abusing damara) while at the time comparing it to child sexual abuse
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but if you do want literal actions on his part, he does Literally groom young girls and they are his targets for manipulation
also, directly from the author commentary (which. is not 100% serious at times. but i do think it sometimes offers some actual insight):
I know I just said a bunch of stuff about [DD] maybe being a creep. But look, this is just my OPINION here. I don't think he's actually being creepy about this. I think he has a genuinely parental attitude toward Aradia and wants to see her succeed in her violent and underhanded schemes. See how he wants them to conduct their business with efficiency? He's way too professional to go Full Doc on these girls.
Another peek at Rose suggests she's still at it with her creepy uncle, Doc Scratch.
Then you have a few beats of conversation which bring Equius to mind, such as the creep-factor
[Dirk and Equius] have this creepy-guy streak running through them, with strange or offputting interests, and seem to get a quiet kick out of making others uncomfortable through demonstrations of these fascinations. [...] I'd say these self-examined qualities are just drawn out, isolated, and inflated both for dramatic effect, and also as critical write-up of those qualities existing within many human beings in general, which I would like to think is grounded in a creative process involving a certain degree of humility about some of this bullshit. I like all these characters here, but that doesn't mean I think their unpleasant qualities are good. It just means I am harnessing and heightening those qualities for creating strong villainous portraits.
We start getting the sense that the entire purpose of this conversation, from Doc's vantage point, is just to passive-aggressively manipulate Rose into peering directly into one of his cursed testicles. Wait, my youth pastor is literally barking like a dog right now for some reason. Probably because I put him on a leash and tied him to a post in the backyard. I guess I fucked up again? I mean one of Doc's seeds.
Maybe it's fair to say I have a higher than average tolerance troubling content. But even I have to admit to shuddering a little when I read Doc's creepy lines toward Rose. I think Doc's creep factor toward girls is most likely channeling part of Caliborn's personality, which almost seems to revolve around his horrid attitude toward women. For Caliborn, this weird combination of wrathful misogyny, yet fixation and obsession with certain girls, is obviously central to the type of real-world profile he's meant to portray. But when his personality is more muted among the collective in Doc's head, those qualities come across as more "restrained," "polite," and "flattering," which arguably just makes it all creepier. The result is a creepy dude profile that also exists in the real world, sort of adjacent to the Full Caliborns out there. There seem to be many stripes of this kind of unfortunate male behavior, which all exists in a broader family of sub-Caliborns. The Docs, the Eridans, the Cronuses… They're all sketchy in different ways.
Doc sitting back just to "watch" is another creepy Equiusism. Remember that was a thing with him.
I wonder what Jade would think if she knew she had in her possession since childhood one of Doc's testicORACLES!!! Oracles. The word I meant to say was oracles, not anything else. Anyway, like I was saying, how would Jade react if she realized every time she played with one of her beloved toys, she was actually fondling this weirdo's plump, juicy oracle. I know you think my youth pastor may have something to do with this peculiar outburst, but you're wrong. I "dismissed" him recently, because he told me with great pride that I learned everything he had to teach me. I don't need anyone to keep me from shoving my foot in my mouth anymore, I'm sure you'll be pleased to know. Now let's watch this grieving teen receive a demonic message from an evil puppet's big fat nut.
bonus commentary from book 6 that has nothing to do with the post:
We're reaching a specific kind of story partition. Not the end of an act, but the end of a year. Also an end of "disc," which is a kind of meta-partitioning I just made up for the purpose of closing the book on two years of content, as well as being a good meta-device for introducing the Doc sequence we're about to get into in the next book.
"next book"...... sad
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maliciouslove · 1 year
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𝔼𝕏𝕋ℝ𝔸ℂ𝕌ℝℝ𝕀ℂ𝕌𝕃𝔸ℝ 𝔸ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕍𝕀𝕋𝕀𝔼𝕊
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NSFW—college AU, aged up characters (21+) || minors, ageless and/or empty blogs DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing // itadori yuuji x professor!reader 
summary // you’re having a particularly rough week and your student yuuji’s childish and nonchalant behaviour towards his failing grades and missing assignments is simply the last straw, forcing you to snap and teach the brat a lesson. for some extra credit, of course. :)
word count // 5.1k
tags // power imbalance, mean dom!reader, sub!yuuji, dubcon (tagging non-con just in case), forced masturbation (m!receiving), blackmail, recorded masturbation (m!receiving), cockwarming a dildo (m!receiving), little to no preparation penetration (m!receiving) sexual favours for extra credit, oral (f!receiving), dacryphilia, slight degradation, humiliation, praise, use of the title ‘professor’,  hair pulling, spit as lube, cum play, unprotected sex, creampie
AN // and the reposting continues! reading this again reminded me that i love writing submissive men. a very long time ago @/cyancherub beta read this for me, and I am still eternally grateful :) <3
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You’ve been having a very shit week so far—your car broke down on Monday and the guys at the repair shop told you it’s going to be at least three days before it’s fixed, and the price they charged for their services also didn’t help with your mood. 
Furthermore, on Tuesday you found out your health insurance claim didn’t go through, adding yet another expense that you have to worry about. Your poor wallet can’t handle all the damage it’s taking. 
You would think you could’ve gotten some peace and quiet when you got home on Wednesday, but no—you walked into your apartment only to find your new couch and all the pillows completely destroyed by your dog. Pillow filling and pieces of cloth scattered all across the living room as your dog was now laying in his bed, looking up at you innocently, as if he didn’t just destroy an extremely expensive couch. 
Thursday was no breeze either, as you started your day by spilling a venti sized caramel macchiato all over your white dress shirt. Walking into your meeting with the dean of the school covered in coffee was embarrassing enough, but when he started chewing you out for the low grade point average in your class, you were just about ready to cry. 
But you clenched your fists and bit your tongue, refusing to show weakness to anyone. It was just a bad week, it too would pass. 
There is only one day of the week left, and after that, you can indulge yourself over the weekend and take time to relax and de-stress. Only Friday left… but boy, you’re not looking forward to this Friday. Why?
Because you have to teach a class with him—Itadori Yuuji, your most annoying student. Yuuji is by no means unintelligent or incapable, no—but he is, however, an asshole. A petulant child that firmly believes he can get away with anything simply because he is handsome and charming. He is the type of guy to enter the classroom 20 minutes late and simply smile and wink at you; no apology, no explanation. Just a cocky 24-karat smile. He talks loud, voices all of his opinions, and doesn’t really care about anyone or anything. 
Now apparently he has decided to stop handing in his assignments, which in turn creates another problem for you. You could, of course, choose to ignore him and simply let him flunk, but that would mean two things: first, he would have to repeat the class, meaning you would have to see more of him, and second, it would give the dean one more reason to be angry with you and punish you for “bringing down the grade average of the entire institution”. 
So this Friday you’re planning on pulling him aside after class and having a serious discussion with him about his grades and work ethic. You have been lenient enough with him over the past few months, choosing to ignore his attitude and simply focus your attention on the students who actually wanted to be there, but that has to come to an end. What you’re less willing to admit to yourself, is that you’re very anxious about the conversation you’ll have with him. What will you say? What if he mocks you? What if he keeps that irritating everything-is-a-joke attitude? But the scariest thought of all: What if I finally snap? Maybe I should teach that little brat a lesson. 
So here you are, laying in your bed awake way past your bedtime, anxiously pondering over the events that might unfold tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day. 
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2:37 PM
The days are surely growing shorter and colder. Grey clouds are hanging heavy over your head, ready to rain down on you any moment now. There are 23 minutes left until class begins, so you grab a quick cup of coffee to go and you head on over to the classroom, mulling over what to say to Yuuji, practising different scenarios in your head. For some reason, the majority of these scenarios end up with Yuuji tied up and sobbing, spanked raw and begging for forgiveness. You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Trying to shake away the urge to break the strawberry-haired man. He would look so cute crying though. 
By the time class starts at 3:00 PM you’re halfway through your coffee, slightly starting to regret having more than two cups that day because it’s making you antsy. You take a final sip and greet your students, making a mental note of the fact that for once Yuuji is on time. The lesson goes smoothly, but you can’t help noticing that Yuuji never seems to be paying attention; never really even looking towards the big screen behind you where important slides containing assignment details were shown. Almost like he’s avoiding looking at you. 
Finally, class is over, the room filling with the sounds of chairs being pulled and students chatting amongst each other. You call Yuuji over, secretly glad that none of the other students are paying attention and simply rolling out of the classroom one by one. Itadori slings his backpack over his shoulder and saunters over to your desk, hands in his pockets, a certain pep in his step. 
“Whaddup, Y/N?” he grins, not a care in the world.
“It’s miss L/N to you. And I need to speak with you about your last assignment, the one you never handed in.” You don’t even look up from the pile of papers on your desk that you were busying yourself with in an attempt to remain composed. 
“Oh yeaaah, there was an assignment, wasn’t there? Oops.” His stupid smile never falters. The irritation is bubbling in your chest and it tastes bitter in your mouth; the papers in your hands crinkle under the force of your fingers. 
“Yup, there was, and it was worth 40% of your final grade. That means you are facing the possibility of failing this class, Mr. Itadori.” Your voice is cold and calculated, all traces of irritation erased—you’re all business. You are his teacher, you need to keep things professional, no room for emotions, especially emotions that will not improve the situation in any way, such as anger. 
You finally look up at the strawberry-haired boy, only to find him staring, but not at you. His brown eyes were fixated on the collar of your tight shirt, the top two buttons undone, showing off your soft skin and collarbones. The shirt itself doesn’t reveal a lot, but it’s tight, the outline of your bra quite visible up close. He swallows and looks away quickly, but not fast enough for you to not notice his quite obvious interest. 
“I’m sorry Mr. Itadori, are my breasts more interesting to you right now?” You arch an eyebrow, the irritation that was growing inside of you finally reaching your voice too. The audacity this brat has.  
“I- no... I- m’sorry” he stutters. Yuuji Itadori, Mr. Charming and Almighty, was flustered. How interesting. The scenarios your mind conjured earlier are suddenly flooding your brain again and you can’t help but wonder… could you make him even more flustered? 
“Listen here Yuuji, this is basically sexual harassment, you know. I’m trying to help you here, have a serious conversation about your situation, yet all you can do is stare at my tits. Now, what do you think I should do about this, hm?” 
He opens his mouth in an attempt to say something, to argue, to come up with some witty comeback—yet no sound comes out. After a long, uncomfortable pause he finally mumbles a barely audible m’sorry, fixating his gaze on the floor. Some sick, twisted part of you finds this adorable. The corners of your lips curve upwards just barely. 
“What exactly are you sorry for, Yuuji?” There is a teasing lilt to your voice, the use of his first name completely throwing him off guard. He looks at you with big eyes, once again unable to form a response.
“For, uh- … for always staring at you inappropriately.. a-and fantasizing.” He gulps loudly, mouth suddenly feeling all too dry. His little confession is a surprise to you, but you don’t let it show. You maintain a neutral face, studying him closely. You can see him get even more nervous under your gaze. 
“Always?” you pause, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Fantasizing?” tilting your head slightly to the side, your eyes never leave his. Your presence only grows, asserting its dominance over his. The boy that usually towers over you and always has a carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude, suddenly looks very small to you. A blush is creeping up his neck and cheeks, proof that he really is feeling flustered. 
“Huh.. so you fantasize about your teacher?” you smirk, several sinister ideas flooding your brain as you look at the boy in front of you shrink even more. “You can get in a lot of trouble for this… Mr. Itadori.” Gracefully you get out of your chair, moving to sit at the end of your desk, shortening the distance between you and your student. “If word got out, administration would have to remove you from my class—you would lose all credits you’ve obtained thus far in my class and you would have to pick a different course in order to obtain those credits again.” Your eyes travel up his body, slowly, undressing him in your mind. “That would be a lot of work, Mr. Itadori. Don’t you think?”
Not trusting his ability to speak right now, he simply nods. There is apprehension in his eyes, but also curiosity.  
“Perhaps we can work this out? Resolve our… conflict, as to avoid getting administration involved.” 
You hear the gears turning in his head, mulling over all the possibilities, mind racing and his heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Resolve… how?” 
You can barely contain yourself at how small his voice is, how unsure. The boy that usually gleamed with confidence and strides down the corridors as if he owns them is suddenly unable to look you straight in the eye. 
“Well, Mr. Itadori, I am a teacher after all. I think it would be best if I teach you a lesson about how it feels to be objectified. To be seen as nothing more than a pretty face, or hot body.” Your hand darts forward, now toying with the hem of his shirt. Yuuji is holding his breath as if the tiniest movement could drive you away. “Relax, Mr. Itadori, it’s just a lesson. You will benefit from it. Just do as I tell you and this little incident will be forgotten.” You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, his face now inches away from yours. A coy smile plays on your lips as you practically feast over the expression painted on his face at this moment. Surprise, desire and fear mixed all together, making his coffee-coloured eyes water slightly. But a breathy okay leaves his lips, eyes transfixed on yours as you push him backwards to sit in a chair. 
“Clothes off. Don’t talk unless I ask you a question. Understand?” 
Yuuji mutters a quick “yes,” fingers already hooking under his sweats, pulling them down as you lock the door to your classroom and make sure there is no way to peek inside the room. Lucky for you, most classes also end early on Friday, so the building is surely almost completely empty by now. 
Yuuji’s heart rate picks up with each clank of your heels against the wooden parquet as you head on over back to the desk, once again sitting on its edge, arms crossed over your chest. Here he is, strawberry hair dishevelled, chest exposed and if you look closely enough, you can see the vibrations on his skin as his heart hammers wildly against his ribcage. All he has left on were his over-the-calf white Nike socks and his banana print boxers. The outline of his dick making your mouth water, already semi-hard even though nothing has really happened so far. 
“Show me what you do when you fantasize about me. Tell me what you think about. I want to know how exactly you objectify me… how often.” Your voice is quiet but commanding, distant yet curious. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to go through with what you ask of him, but he finally palms himself over his boxers, not daring to look at you, but opening his mouth to speak. 
“I- I often imagine what you look like under your clothes. What kind of l-lingerie you wear...” his voice falters at the end, the blush creeping up his face betraying him. But quite visibly, blood isn’t rushing only to his face. His eyes are shut and eyebrows pinched together, but he keeps on talking, just like you asked him to. “I think about you masturbating… Like I do almost every night. I-I think about eating you out and I imagine how you taste, what you look like.” He is gripping his now fully erect cock under the cloth of his boxers, and the whole view is just so delicious. His little confessions go straight to your clit, desire taking you over. You take your phone out and quickly open your camera, switching to video and turning it on.
“Go on, don’t hold back.” 
He keeps his eyes shut, but his hand movements get braver. In an instant, his big calloused hand dives under his boxers to pull out his heavy cock, the elastic band of his underwear resting under his balls. He’s already leaking, a pearly bead of precum sliding down his shaft, right next to a big juicy vein. You zoom in with your camera, making sure to catch all the details. 
“I imagine how tight you’d feel when you cream around my cock.” At these words he squeezes his length harder, a tiny whimper escaping his lips and it makes your heart twist and your insides burn. You just know the stretch of his cock will be delicious. You know he’d feel so good. The thought alone has you clenching around nothing and you slide a hand under your skirt, fingers pressing over your clit as a shudder travels your spine. 
“Yeah? You wanna do all those things to me, Mr. Itadori? You want to see me naked, taste me, feel me? Tell me how much you want it.” You’re focusing the camera on his face now, capturing his face contorting in pleasure and need. Hand stroking his dick faster now, smearing the pre all across his length. He doesn’t really need to say how much he wants that as it becomes evident from the vigour in his strokes, but you want to hear him anyway. “Tell me, use your words, baby boy.” The nickname sets him off, all the moans he’d been staving off finally surfacing. 
“S’much… it’s all I can think about. Every time I come to class my mind… w-wanders, mmgh.” His chest is heaving, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fucks his fist wishing it was you, eyes still tightly shut. “Even now… I really am imagining that you’re jacking me off… it’s so fucking h-hot.” 
It would be a lie to say that your hands weren’t itching to touch him, to make him writhe and squirm and beg. But that would have to wait. Right now, you just want to see him cum. 
“Mmm, and how do these little daydreams of yours end, hm? Wanna show me?” It takes Yuuji only a few more strokes before his orgasm washes over him, abdomen muscles tightening, hot thick cum spurting over his chest and tummy, some even landing on his chin. His breathing is erratic and his heart feels like it's trying to break a hole through his ribcage. Finally, he cracks an eye open, gaze immediately landing on the phone in your hands. 
Stopping the video and tossing the phone aside, you stride over to him and card your fingers through his hair, slightly pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. Amongst all the emotions he’s feeling, fear is the most prominent right now. His eyes are watering again, and you quiver at the sight. 
“Call it an eye for an eye. One video for me to keep in exchange for all the times you’ve stared at me, imagining how good I would actually feel. If you behave, the video stays in my possession only. So be good f’me Yuuji, yea? Can you do that?” 
He nods his head quickly, too quickly for his own liking, but he dares not to disobey. His submission pleases you so you ease your grip on his hair, deft fingers sliding down the side of his face and tracing his sharp jawline. 
"You know Mr. Itadori, we’re not quite done here yet. I still need to discuss the possibility of you failing my class. I was thinking of assigning you some extra credit work to make up for the assignment you didn’t hand in… if you’d like to stay in my class-" 
He cuts you off. “P-Please… I want to do the extra credit work. Please, I-I’ll do good, I’ll make up for my bad grades, ‘promise.” The puppy eyes he gives will simply be the death of you. You smile and rub soft circles with your thumb on his cheek. 
Straightening up,  you walk away from him heading towards your desk, fingers running through the wooden surface and landing on your briefcase. "I really, really dislike brats, you know. And I absolutely will not tolerate more mistakes like this from you, Mr. Itadori. No more attitude. No more slacking off."
There’s an edge to your voice, a coldness emanating from it, and it sends shivers down his spine. Unconsciously he swallows, tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip. Even for him, it’s hard to tell if he’s scared or aroused. Or maybe both. But what he is sure of is that you’re commanding all of his attention right now. He would do anything for your approval.
“To ensure you actually complete the assignment and don’t flunk out of my class, I will be monitoring your work. And you will do it right here, where I can see you.” The briefcase is now open, your hands rummaging in it, fingers wrapping around the object you’re looking for. “You’re going to use some tools to further… motivate you.” Your grin is wicked as you pull out a pink silicone dildo from your briefcase. Smiling at your student, your tongue presses itself flat against the dildo, licking a slow stripe from shaft to tip.
"You said you’ll be good, right? Promised you’ll do the extra credit… Still feeling up for the task?" You're now walking back to him and his eyes grow wider with fear. He's never done this before. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat as you sit down on his lap but to no avail. His mind is going completely blank, but his dick is acting on its own accord, becoming hard again pressed up against your ass.
“I want to do the extra credit, professor. Please?” The words are almost a whisper, the sound of his heart drowning out the sound. You chuckle and present the dildo to his lips in a silent command which he obeys, wrapping his lips around the tip of the dildo. 
"Ah, so you can obey orders, well that's a relief. Because I have a tall order coming for you." You shove the dildo all the way down his throat, tears immediately pooling in his eyes, the only noise coming from him being muffled moans and gagging. "So listen up, brat—you're going to take this dildo like a big boy and cockwarm it for me as you write your assignment right here, right now. Where I can see you." 
He can’t verbally give you an answer with the dildo shoved down his throat, so he nods, trying to hold off his gag-reflex, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 
You don’t even think about it as you lean closer, tongue darting out to collect the stray tear, the salty taste of it making you hum in delight. You remove the dildo from his mouth, a clear string of saliva connecting his lips and the pink tip of the dildo, which you simply hand to him. It’s his extra credit work after all, he should do all the work himself if he wants a good grade. 
This time you drag your chair from behind your desk and position it across Yuuji’s, giving you a perfect view of the show he’s about to put on for you. With shaky hands he positions the dildo on the chair, making sure the suction cup at the bottom is well attached. You could see him think through every move he makes, taking his laptop out, positioning everything so that he could attempt to write while he cockwarms the dildo. 
The strawberry-colour haired man takes a final unsure look at you as if seeking confirmation, but even he can’t deny the excitement he feels deep down. The primal need to please you, show you he can be a good boy too, for you and you only. Lifting one leg over his desk, he gives you a perfect view of his round ass, puckered hole already clenching in anticipation. Two of his long fingers push past his lips, tongue sloppily covering them in saliva that he plans on using as lube. Those same fingers, now covered in a layer of spit, rub soft circles over his puckered hole, lightly teasing and prodding while he gets used to the sensation. 
One finger finally pushes past his ring muscle, a wanton moan escaping his pretty lips. The sound is heavenly and you just want to hear more. To see more. Slightly parting your legs, you let your right hand travel up your thigh and toy with the hem of your lacy panties, enjoying Yuuji’s reaction. The little display you’re making for him is really fuelling him further. Not even a minute later, he’s sinking a second finger in his greedy hole, sounding more and more desperate, each moan and whimper a treasure for you. 
Spitting on the dildo again, this time nasty and unabashed, mind hazy from lust, Yuuji finally positions himself over the pink dildo, the tip resting right over his hole. One more glance in your direction and he sinks down an inch, the tip pushing past his muscle, the stretch immediately filling his eyes with more tears. But he ignores the weird feeling, ignores the pain, and simply focuses on the pleasure. The more he sinks down on the dildo, the more you toy with your pussy, panties now pushed aside to give him a better view. Fingers sliding up and down the slit, collecting your essence and smearing it all over, gentle circles with your middle finger over your clit. 
Halfway down the dildo, Yuuji opts to slide back up, and then down again, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in pleasure. He was not expecting it to feel this good, the fullness making him slightly dizzy. One hand gently strokes over his sensitive cock, the feeling making him shiver. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” In response to his puzzled look you simply nod over to his laptop, reminding him that he is supposed to be writing an assignment. “Just write an essay on any topic that we’ve covered in class… or did you not retain anything from our classes because you were too busy being a pervert?” At these words, you slide two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, pumping them in and out slowly. 
After staring dumbfoundedly for a few seconds, his shaky fingers pull the laptop closer and he begins to type. It’s adorable to watch him struggle to remain concentrated on the task at hand, with the dildo filling him up perfectly and with the sounds you’re making as you fuck yourself on your fingers… poor Yuuji can barely keep it together. Even though he’s sunk all the way down on the dildo and knows he’s supposed to stay still, he can’t help the little thrusts of his hips against the silicone cock. 
Around 10 minutes has passed since Yuuji started his attempt at writing an essay, but it’s becoming more and more difficult for him to focus, not with the tip of the dildo pressing up against his prostate, making his thighs quiver and his breath hitch. He needs relief; he can’t write like this. And you know this all too well, your own desire taking over you completely, temporarily forgetting how you got in this situation in the first place. Screw it.
“P-please, professor.. I need..” 
Before he can finish his sentence you’re already on his lap, lips pressed to his in a heated, sloppy kiss. You can’t hold it in anymore; you want to feel him. His lips feel soft against yours, but his tongue feels sinister as it dances against yours. Moving his laptop to the side, you sit on top of the desk and spread your legs for Yuuji, pussy glistening with your slick and on full display for the boy. 
“An orgasm or two might put you in my good graces?” you suggest and spread your pussy lips with two fingers, watching as Yuuji practically drools over the sight. He doesn’t need to be asked twice, still impaled on the dildo he bends forward, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. The taste of you drives him feral, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard, mouth hard at work to coax more moans out of you. To taste more of you. To him, you’re truly intoxicating. As his tongue works feverishly against your folds, constant praise falls from your lips. That’s my good boy, fuck yes, right t-there. 
“Move your hips, ride that cock baby boy.” You’re so close to your own release, it’s suffocating you. A few more flicks of his tongue over your sensitive bud and you’re coming undone under him, legs shaking violently as your mind floods with overwhelming pleasure and your pussy flutters. Yuuji’s greedy mouth is ready to swallow all your slick, hungrily lapping at your cunt, the obscene squelch of his tongue against your wetness filling the room. 
Pushing him away just enough to sit back in his lap, your hands wrap around his length, pumping it languidly. His hips slow down but he doesn’t dare stop moving up and down the dildo, he doesn’t dare disobey you. Catching his lips in another kiss you guide his cock to your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting all your arousal. Slowly you sink down on his cock, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his fat meaty cock stretching you out, your tight hole hugging him perfectly. 
And Yuuji could cum from this alone, from finally feeling your warmth and wetness around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth. You feel so much better than he could ever imagine. With you hovering over his lap enough to give him space to bounce up and down, impaling himself on the silicone cock, and simultaneously drilling upwards into your welcoming heat. The feeling is so overwhelming; his movements are sloppy, and he’s constantly babbling incoherent words, hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. And as you look down at him all you can think about is how gorgeous he looks all fucked out.
Your hand snakes down your body, middle finger expertly rubbing tight circles over your clit, pussy immediately clamping down even harder on his dick. A second orgasm was approaching and Yuuji can feel that, the way your walls flutter around him, how much louder you’re getting. All he has to do is hold off his orgasm for a while more. He angles his hips and pistons up into your cavern, the tip of his leaky cock ramming against your cervix in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Right there is all you can repeat, teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, a few good strokes being the last push you need before you stumble over and drown in the pleasure once more. Yuuji follows right after, sinking all the way down on the dildo and pushing you down his length to completely bottom out inside you as he empties his balls, thick cum spurting right against your cervix. You can feel how full of cum you are, the thick sticky substance dribbling down your thigh. 
After a few moments of silence, the two of you just staying close and trying to catch your breath, you finally speak. 
“You know, you will actually have to write at least one essay for me for that extra credit, consider this just your… motivation to actually get it done. At the end of the day, I’d rather you not fail, Yuuji.” 
You did it again, you used his first name. The softness to your voice makes his heart twist, and he knows he has to live up to the promise he made. 
“And this stays between us.” 
You didn’t really need to tell him that, he knows how badly things could turn out if anyone found out, but he gives you his word. He doesn’t dare say anything else out of fear that anything he says might ruin the magic. One wrong move could sully this moment forever, and this is a memory he’ll cherish for a long time. So he tucks his flaccid cock in his boxers and puts on his clothes, gathering his things and heading for the door. He pauses for a second and turns around for one last look. 
“Miss L/N.. uhm, thank you for giving me an opportunity for that extra credit. And uh, I don’t mean the sex. The actual extra credit. I know I can be difficult, so I appreciate this a lot.” 
You smile and wave him off, telling him there’s nothing to be thankful for. You remind him to hand in his essay before the following Friday and you say your goodbyes. 
There’s a slight empty feeling budding inside you, missing the attention of the younger boy, but ultimately you realize you had completely forgotten about the stress of the week; and there was an undeniable pep in Yuuji’s step as he made his way home that night... Today was truly a good day, for both of you. 
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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.
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shigure · 2 years
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we've gone a decade without any major technological revolutions. we've had big changes, lots of refinement, fancier cartridges, newer programs. but the most impactful changes have been big companies deciding to switch to subscription service, with all of us powerless to stop them.
in the meantime, every day is the newest tech revolution. someone's started a new a.i. program. someone's designed an app to communicate with your team called teekup. it doesn't work. samsung has released a new phone, apple has released a new statement that they will be further taking away user privacy protections. we're oversaturated with ideas. not thinking ideas, just desperate vying for marketability. and the sick part is, even though all these people being interviewed about their new revolutionary product may as well have been built in a lab, they probably will starve if it doesn't go viral. they don't even have the creative freedom to give up on their idea. their best bet is delusion that they're offering a public service.
it's really not a surprise that nfts have taken off on the more corporate side of social media. techies need a new messiah. crypto saps need to believe some new shiny thing will somehow resuscitate their wallets. facebook's marketing team can't help but pray that they'll be able to sell something with the equivalent pull of bitmojis but for people under 40. and it's so easy to make them. you can just make a bunch of them. maybe one of them will sell, maybe not, but then you can give them away for free and lie to your boss that this counts as engagement. after the past few decades of the tech sector loudly trying to find a way to euthanize artists on the whole, this could be their big break.
everyone knows art doesn't pay. did you know law doesn't either? it used to be that companies would just hire hundreds of lawyers just in case, and you wouldn't have to do much of anything to get a fat paycheck. after the 2008 crash, these companies started downsizing, and asked if they really needed all these lawyers. so they fired them. haha! sucks to be them, these corporate lawyers leeching, now without a job and nobody is hiring. serves them right for hating art. for looking down on everyone else. if you were in law school in 2008, going in because your parents wanted you to make something of yourself, you left with no prospects. you worked at the apple store for a year, with a law degree. maybe someone came in that said all lawyers are liars, and maybe he's right, and maybe you would have looked down on him if you'd graduated five years earlier. but right now you're replacing his charging cable.
the crash didn't un-crash. nothing fixed itself. moderately well off people found new ways of not working, poor people got sick and died. uber started up, telling everyone they could be trendy and make money. airbnb started up, and the demand for housing just increased - not to live in, just to sell again and make money off of. we're still in the pit, and companies are starting to ask if they really need that many programmers. you went into tech because it would make money, and your parents wanted you to make something of yourself, and you're grappling with the despair of being a perfectly normal person in a world where only sterile talent seems to matter. of course you need ai art. of course you need nfts. tech was your path to literally just living comfortably. in 8 months you're going to be out of a job.
the apple store is still hiring.
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absurdthirst · 10 months
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Just Your Average Suburban Couple {Dave York x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13.3k
Warnings: Cheating, extramarital affairs, marriage of convenience, rough treatment, derogatory language (slut/whore/bitch), choking, rough sex, spanking, threats of death, guns, orgasm denial, fighting, oral sex (male receiving), hating fucking, murder
Comments: You are married to Dave York, on paper only. Both of you using your marriage as a cover for your work. Happy-ish with the arrangement even if he annoys you until Dave finds you tangled up in a neighbors arms and you find out exactly how much he does not like that.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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Dave sighs as he sips his beer, standing by the group of men who are gathered around the BBQ debating the best way to cook a steak. “Medium rare.” He inserts his opinion, just a couple of words to make him seem interested, and his dark eyes slide across the yard to where you are standing with the wives. This suburban heaven, perfect for the new couple looking for the white picket fence and yard perfect for a dog to run around while they work on the 2.5 kids. A perfect cover. 
You catch his eye, sipping your spritzer, and he tilts his beer towards you, making you sigh. He wants to go. The food hasn’t been served yet but you know Dave has a job to go to tonight and he likely wants to prepare. You don’t want to leave yet, you’re starving and you want to put in an appearance. 
Your eyes shift and you meet the gaze of Kyle Tyson. Your next door neighbor and husband of Jackie. A small yet aggravating woman that makes you grit your teeth. You smile at Kyle and he winks at you, making you chuckle and bite your lip. You jerk your chin towards the house and he nods, letting you lead the way into the house. Dave sees it, the small actions that no one seems to notice but he does. He clenches his jaw, downing the rest of his beer as he follows you and Kyle into the house, determined to discover what you’re up to.
“Everyone’s outside.” Kyle pants, as he presses you up against the wall, running kisses down your throat as he slides his hands up your stupidly cute sundress. 
“That’s the point.” You giggle, reaching down and squeezing his rapidly hardening cock before your fingers quickly start to work his belt. You hate suburban life, you hate your husband and you need to get laid. This thing with Kyle is new and fun, plus it’s always amusing to pretend to be interested in what Jackie has to say when you have a load of her ‘perfect’ husband’s cum dripping out of your cunt and are sore from fucking him. “You know you like the idea of wearing my cum on your dick while you eat your hot dog.” You purr, reaching in and pulling out his cock to pump it a few times while his fingers slide through your wet folds. 
Dave watches you from around the corner before he makes his entrance. “What the fuck is going on?” He growls and Kyle pushes you away, fumbling to tuck his hard cock away. 
“No-nothing Dave.” Kyle stammers. Pussy. You want to roll your eyes. 
Dave shakes his head, “it didn’t look like nothing. You had your fucking hand down my wife’s panties.” Dave growls, stepping closer to Kyle who holds his hands up. 
“I didn’t - we - she - she seduced me.” He lies and Dave shakes his head, looking at you. 
“We are going home. Now.” He demands, grabbing your arm and you whine in protest. 
Kyle is helpless, terrified when he says “you’re not gonna tell Jackie, are you?” The idea of his wife finding out is horrifying. She would kill him.
Dave snorts, looking at Kyle. He doesn’t need to get involved in that kind of drama. This is between you and Dave. “No. That’s your business but you should fucking tell her before someone mysteriously does.” Dave threatens and Kyle’s eyes widen. Before he can say another word, Dave drags you through the house and out of the front door, along the sidewalk to your own slice of suburban heaven. 
“What the actual fuck were you thinking?” Dave hisses when you’re inside your home in the hallway.
“Oh come on.” You roll your eyes and pull your arm out of Dave’s grip, scowling at him. “No one was going to walk in and catch us. They hadn’t yet.” 
Dave growls, shaking his head and pushing you up against the wall. “You’ve done this before? You can’t do this!” He hisses angrily and your eyes turn cold, hard. 
Pushing back against him, you shove him away from you. “Don’t fucking touch me, David York.” You spit. “You might be married to me, but this is farce, remember? Who I fuck is none of your concern.” 
Dave hisses at you, crowding you against the wall with his chest but not touching you, “it might be a fake marriage but no one around here knows that. They just see my wife cheating on me with the neighbor. I won’t be made a fucking fool of, sweetheart. You are testing me. And him? Of all the men in the area. Jesus Christ. You picked a winner. What - does he cum in 3 pumps?” Dave snorts humorlessly.
Kyle didn’t have the longest stamina, but he made up for it with his tongue. You aren’t going to tell Dave that. “No one knows but the people I’ve fucked.” You tell Dave with a smirk, knowing he will seethe until he knows who all you have slept with. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. His downfall as an operative was letting his emotions run him at times, being too hot headed. It was going to get him killed one day. “I’m sure you’ve been such a good little boy since we’ve been married, haven’t you? Kept it in your pants?”
“That’s different. I didn’t fuck the woman across the street for people to find out.” He hisses at you, blood boiling. He hates to think that you are getting fucked by these neighborhood losers. “You- you are giving us a bad reputation. Me, you’re embarrassing me. They- they will think your husband doesn’t fuck you properly.” He shakes his head. Dave is all about keeping up appearances. Both of you have too much to lose to be fucking around. You both need this cover for your jobs and yet you’re putting everything at risk for some mediocre cock. 
“You don’t honey.” You coo mockingly and Dave breaks, his hand coming up to grab your neck, slamming you against the wall. 
“You’re a fucking cunt.”
Instead of crying out and trembling in fear, you scoff and laugh. Glaring back at him, you jut your chin out defiantly. “I’m the cunt you married.” You remind him softly, your words cutting through him like a knife to the heart. “The only time you’ve liked yourself was when you were trying to be someone this cunt might like.” Twisting your lips into a smirk, you lean back against the wall, panting softly. “I’m that cunt.” 
Dave’s blood boils, that vein in his forehead popping and he hisses your name, “how many of them have you fucked?” He growls, tightening his grip on your neck. “Tell me.” He demands, his patience wearing thin and he doesn’t want to admit why he’s acting this way.
You take more pleasure than you probably should at the way Dave’s eyes glitter darkly. He’s always pissed you off with his total disregard of your appeal, so it’s amusing to see his ego bruised. “Let’s see….” You hum playfully. “Jerry and Damon, Alex once…..” You pretend to think about it. “Everyone at the party but Scott.” You shudder slightly, something about the neighbor across the street made your stomach churn, and not in a good way.
Dave squeezes your throat a little harder, “you’ve fucked the entire street behind my back.” He growls, “you’re a fucking whore. Everyone is laughing at me, laughing at me not knowing my wife is the street slut.”
“Maybe you should have satisfied your wife if you didn’t want to be the laughingstock of the neighborhood.” You taunt him, your pussy clenching from the tight grip he has on your throat. No one knew and the men in this area were all to shit scared of their wives finding out about their dalliances and leaving them, taking half their money and draining them with spousal and/or child support.
“You didn’t want to fuck me. You didn’t want a wedding night. Sweetheart, we had a courthouse wedding, took photos, and both flew across the country to kill our targets. You would’ve bit my cock off if I had come near you. Instead, you’re fucking every single man in the goddamn zip code.”
You tut, shaking your head. “I’ve seen your dick, I wouldn’t have bitten it off. I wanted to suck it.” You shrug, “figured you would have shot me before I could get on my knees.” Despite the fact that you don’t share a bed, you’ve seen him naked by chance and have heard him jerking off in the shower several times. It seemed like Dave couldn’t stand you so you just moved on. You deserve to find satisfaction somewhere.
Dave can't stop himself. Your words have him hardening in his pants. He keeps hold of your neck, squeezing it as he surges forward to press his lips to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He's not delicate, he's rough, desperate to remind you that you are married to him. You are his wife.
Surprised, you quickly moan into the kiss, feeling like it is some sort of lesson. Not that you mind, you’ve always been one to like to learn. You learn that Dave enjoys biting, breaking away from your lips to map your jaw and neck with his teeth. Your arms come up and your fingers sink into his hair, pulling on it just as roughly as he bites. “Fuck, Dave.”
His fingers grip your jaw and he presses his forehead against yours. "I'm gonna fuck you. You are gonna take whatever I give you." He orders, pushing down on your shoulders to force you to kneel. "You are gonna suck my cock. Don't you dare bite or I'll fucking kill you." He warns, working on his belt buckle to pull his hardening cock out of his pants.
You have half a mind to refuse, just to spite him, but you’ve been curious about David Anthony York and he denied you your pleasure earlier. Instead of arguing, you slap his hands away to take over exposing his cock. Eager to see what it takes to make this man moan your name.
Dave smirks, watching you as you pull his hard cock out, eyes widening, and you look up at him while wrapping your fingers around his girth. “You impressed, sweetheart?” He chuckles, grabbing the back of your neck to push you towards his cock. “None of those fuckers in this neighbourhood impressed you with their dicks?”
You lift a brow, wanting to make a smart comment back about how there were a couple of men who could give him a run for his money but you don’t. Instead you lean in and press your tongue to the underside of his cock.
Dave groans when you wrap your lips around his cock, his grip on your neck loosening a little. You take him deeper and he pushes his cock further into your mouth. “You can take more. You’re a whore, you know how to take a cock down your throat.” He taunts you, “you can take more of it.”
Pulling your lips back, you show him your teeth just to watch him scowl at you. You hollow your cheeks and push him deeper into your throat until you hit the back. He wants to taunt you, but he can’t hurt your feelings.
He groans when you take him deeper, suctioning his cock into your mouth. You moan around him and he grabs your hair, “don’t act, sweetheart. I want real. I don’t want the bullshit you give those pathetic assholes down the street.” He hisses, pushing his cock down your throat and you choke on his girth.
The funny thing is, you aren’t acting, you like it. You like blowing a guy and having him fall apart under the direction of your mouth. Tears slide down your cheeks and you feel the spit bubbling out of the sides of your mouth.
Dave has no sympathy for you, his hips thrusting as he pushes his cock down your throat over and over again. He doesn’t care about you choking or gagging, he just wants to own you. You’re his, legally. He groans, pushing his cock deep one last time before he pulls his cock back, making you gasp as he suddenly withdraws. “Get in the fucking bedroom.” He demands, grabbing your hair to drag you up from your knees.
It amuses you that he thinks he can treat you like you are actually some suburban housewife. Like you aren’t deadly in your own rights. You have every intention of fucking him, but now you’re going to be a brat about it. Grabbing his wrist, you twist around until the pressure forces him to let go of your hair and you shove him back. “Who the fuck do you think you are, York?” You hiss, enjoying watching his face scrunch up in anger.
Dave grabs your arms, pulling you into his chest. “I’m your fucking husband.” He growls, letting go of you and he bends over, grabbing your thighs to lift you over his shoulder. He stalks into the bedroom, tossing you down onto the bed. “Fucking undress. Now.” He hisses his final warning, working on his button down.
You snort, wondering if he would rip your dress off if you refused. Since you actually like the damned dress, you shift to your knees and pull it up over your head, revealing your lack of bra since the top had one built in and the skimpy lacy panties that you had been wearing for Kyle. “Good enough?” You ask, admiring his smooth chest as he pulls off his button down.
Dave knows you were wearing those panties for the insipid prick next door and he clenches his jaw. “You’re a fucking whore. You know what happens to whores? They get fucked. Hard.” Dave promises, shrugging off his shirt and he pushes his pants down along with his boxers, kicking them aside. He grabs you, flipping you onto your stomach. “Are you wet enough? I don’t fucking care.” He chuckles darkly, straddling your thighs and he grips his cock, positioning it at your entrance and he pushes into you without any foreplay. He’s girthy but you can take it.
All you give him is a grunt. Not wanting to let him know how hard you are biting down on your lip to keep from moaning. He stretches you out amazingly and it’s been a long time since someone fucked you this hard. The only thing that surprises you is that York didn’t put on a condom. Controlling your breathing, you look over your shoulder. “Are you going to fuck me? I don’t have all day.” You taunt.
Your words make him smirk, his chuckle echoes through his body to yours, and he reaches out to smack your ass. “Patience, wifey. I will fuck you when I want. How I want.” He clicks his tongue and you whine when he doesn’t move. He waits until you’re squirming before he pulls back, nearly falling out of you until he thrusts hard and deep inside of you. He sets that same pace, fucking you hard and fast, his hips slam against your ass.
This time you can’t hold back the moans. Gripping the sheets of the bed you sleep on without him every night you cry out. “Fuck, Dave!” Your eyes roll back, loving how deep he’s getting and you know that you will be sore tomorrow. “More.”
His hand presses down on the back of your neck, pushing you into the mattress, “shut the fuck up. I’m in charge now. You’re my slut now.” He reminds you, rocking his hips and he suddenly slows down, making you whine in protest. He pushes two fingers into your mouth, his cock slowly dragging through your walls.
It’s demeaning and if it were any other man, you would snap his fucking neck. But because it’s Dave, you suck on his fingers and whine as your walls clench down around his cock. He feels incredible, scratching an itch you’ve had for a long time and you love the rough way he’s treating you. You bite him just to see what he would do. 
When you bite down on his fingers, he snorts, withdrawing them from between your teeth so he can slap your cheek. “Don’t bite. It’s rude.” He reprimands and grips your jaw. He presses his entire body over you, his face near yours and he starts to fuck you hard once more. “You’ve been such a naughty girl. Fucking all the neighborhood husbands. Been a bad little whore. You’re my whore now, baby. You’re mine. My wife. The only one who gets this pussy is me. Tell me it’s mine.” He orders, still gripping your jaw.
Your eyes roll back again, his filth pouring into your ears and going straight to your cunt. “Yours.” You moan quietly, mouth going slack jawed when he hits something deep inside you and you squeal when he hits it again. “Fuck, it’s yours.”
His cock twitches inside of you upon hearing the words that your pussy belongs to him. He loves that. “Don’t fucking forget it.” He growls, slapping your cheek again and he continues to thrust deep and hard into you. His hands shifting to grab your tits, sliding his hands under you to squeeze them while he rocks deep into you. “Did you let them cum inside of you?” He asks you, wanting to know.
You squeeze his cock with your cunt, enjoying the harshness of his tone rasping in your ear. Jealousy drips from his words and it makes you smirk. For a man who was just married to you on paper alone, he was acting like a husband. “Yes.” You hum, aware of the fact that you wouldn’t get pregnant, but he doesn’t know that. “Ev-every time.”
​​Dave growls, sliding his hand up to squeeze your neck. “You’re a fucking slut. What if - what if they knocked you up? You could’ve jeopardized our entire fucking cover having a baby daddy. You stupid whore.” He slaps your cheek, reprimanding you as his cock pushes deeper, spearing against your cervix.
You choke out a moan at the slap, giggling slightly at how furious he is. Instead of correcting him, you just push your hips up. “Le-legally it would be yours.” You tease, knowing that would make him even madder. Your fingers twist around the bedding and you moan again, loving how brutal he is being. He was right that the men in the neighborhood weren’t vicious like this and you needed it.
Dave hates the thought of you pregnant with another man’s child. “I would kill you if you had another man’s baby.” He threatens, slapping your cheek again as he keeps up his pace.
“Temper, t-temper.” You pant out, eyes closing as the delicious knot of pleasure starts to build in your core. You’re so close to having the best fucking orgasm you’ve had in a long time and it’s thanks to the asshole you married. “So- fuck, so close, Dave.”
Dave lets go of your throat, pushing deep and he grabs your ass as he buries his cock inside of your walls, twitching while a loud groan escapes his lips, his orgasm making him shake and he pulls out while he’s still spurting, his hot seed hitting your ass and lower back. He pants, closing his eyes for a moment until he shuffles off of the bed, spent cock still aching with his release. “Don’t you ever fucking disrespect me like that again. Clean yourself up.” He orders and grabs his pants, walking out of the bedroom to leave you laying there, his cum cooling on your skin.
Huffing, you turn on your side and feel his cum drip down your skin and you can’t help but get in a parting shot. “Seems like you’re the one who can’t satisfy your wife, David!” You yell after him, rolling your eyes to yourself as you climb off the bed and move towards your bathroom, eager to finish what he started with the toy you have in there. 
Dave ignores you, heading for his room so he can get into the shower. He’s still fuming that you fucked the entire neighborhood, especially when his own liaisons have been far away from home. He’s had hints from several wives but he’s never done anything for fear of risking your cover. He is annoyed that he’s jealous. Hating that you’ve somehow gotten under his skin. He washes off and gets ready for his op, deciding to leave early so he can get his mind straight.
In your own shower, you grind against the toy that is suctioned to the wall, not nearly as satisfied with it as Dave had felt inside you. Biting your lip and sinking your hand between your thighs, you wish that you had just fucking cum when he had fucked you. Hating that he feels as if he has the upper hand now. Like he has claimed you. He had been the one to tell you that it was a sham marriage and now he’s pissed that you treated it as such. Your fingers circle your clit and you moan quietly, cumming with his name on your lips. 
****
When Dave gets back from his op the next morning, he finds you in the kitchen, sipping your coffee and staring out the window to the back yard. “Morning sweetheart.” He announces his presence, setting his duffel bag down on the floor. “Missed me? Hopefully you didn’t fuck the neighbor while I was away.”
Rolling your eyes, you turn from the window and send him a smirk. “You missed it. I invited all of them over last night and they ran a train on me.” You taunt, taking a sip of your coffee. “It was wild. Just finished cleaning up all the cum before you walked in the door.” The funniest part of that was that your sheets are in the washing machine, the weekly cleaning but the sound of the machine can be heard from the kitchen. “Anyway, welcome home, dear. Do you want me to cook you some breakfast like a good little housewife?” 
Dave knows that’s not true. He monitored the security cameras. No one came inside the house. He rolls his eyes and sits down at the table, still mad at you for putting you both at risk. “I want some eggs. Coffee. Bacon.” He rattles off what he wants, knowing he’s being a dick but you have some making up to do.
“Good.” You hum, walking over to him and setting your coffee down in front of him and kissing him on the cheek before you stand straight. You make sure the kiss was wet, sloppy and leaves a mark on his skin that he will have to wipe off. “Have fun making that.” You turn to walk out of the room, having no intention of acting like his good little wife. You are married on paper and the fucker didn’t even let you cum yesterday. 
Dave mutters under his breath, unable to believe you have just left without cooking anything. He scowls as he wipes his cheek, huffing before he stands up. “Fucking bitch.” He hisses and stalks after you, finding you just about to walk up the stairs. “You’re such a bitch.” He growls, grabbing your ankle to pull you down and you gasp as you land on your hands on a step, his hand dragging you down the stairs.
Twisting your body, your free foot kicks out, striking Dave in the jaw and making him let go of your ankle with a curse. Instead of scrambling to get away, you decide to attack. “Bitch?” You screech, launching yourself at him and forcing him down to the ground before you punch him in the ribs. “I. Didn’t. Do. Anything. Wrong.” You spit out as you and Dave wrestle for control, your legs straddling his waist. 
Dave grabs your arms, stopping you from punching him, and you struggle to get free. He keeps his grip tight and pushes your legs open with his so you can’t flip him. You continue to struggle until you decide to fight dirty, grinding down onto him. “You - you fucked everyone in the community. I haven’t - no one can know about us.” He reminds you, groaning and his cock hardening as you grind down onto him.
“They just- they think I’m unhappy.” You hiss, smirking when you feel him start to grow against your panties. “Like they are.” You don’t care what they think, they have enough issues without throwing stones at what you have done. It doesn’t hurt that you’ve dug up enough dirt on everyone in the neighborhood if you need it. “What pisses you off more Dave? That I fucked them or I didn’t fuck you?” 
His hands let go of yours and he grabs your hips instead, moving you on his cock. “You’re my wife. You should be in my bed. If you wanted to be fucked, you should’ve told me. I would’ve fucked you however you wanted. You didn’t need to go to those pricks down the street. My cock is yours, both legally and in reality. All you have to do is ask.”
You stop moving, staring down at him for a moment and narrowing your eyes. You can’t tell what his game is, if he’s playing one. All you know is that he is acting like he wants this to be real, more than a cover marriage. Biting your lower lip, you pout slightly. “You didn’t make me cum.” You point out. “You got what you wanted and left me high and dry.” It sounds pitiful, because it is, but you had wanted to scream his name and he denied you. 
Dave chuckles at your whine, “you had to be punished.” He explains, slapping your ass as you continue to grind down onto his cock. “Take what you want, sweetheart. You want to cum? Take my cock out and ride it until you cum.” He orders, wanting you to do it but it has to be your decision.
You contemplate your options. The toy had technically gotten you off, but it wasn’t the same as getting fucked. Plus it will be another encounter with Dave where he’s clothed. Still….you huff and shuffle your hips down so you can unbuckle his belt and pull his cock out. You are still in your nightgown and you have no intention of taking it off. 
He chuckles at the way you eagerly take his cock out and lift your gown so you can sink down onto him. “Jesus.” He hisses at how tight you are as you lower yourself onto him. “Baby. Take what you want. It’s your chance.” He informs you, watching your mouth as you pout.
You whine softly, the sting of him stretching you out again after the rough sex making your cunt flutter. “Fuck, Dave.” Tilting your head back, you give yourself a moment to adjust while you make small circles with your hips. You hate that he feels so good, that his cock makes you gasp when he twitches inside you. “You’re going to make me cum this time. Or you won’t fuck me again.” You warn when you look down at him again. 
Dave snorts, “it’s all you this time, darling. Make yourself cum on my cock. I won’t deny you this time. If you deny me though, you’ll fucking regret it. Come on, ride my dick like you’ve probably done to every other man in town.” He slaps your ass again but doesn’t move you, wanting you to take what you want.
Rolling your eyes, you slap your hand down on his chest as you start to move. Pressing your lips together so you don’t give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan out in pleasure. Closing your eyes when he smirks at you, guessing what your game is. Fuck him. Fuck him and his cocky attitude. He wants to dictate you to not deny him when he left you unsatisfied? Your lips twitch and you decide to piss him off. “Fuck…Kyle.” You whimper quietly. 
Dave reacts immediately, his hand coming up to grip your jaw. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name while I’m inside of you. I’ll fucking kill him if you do it again.” He warns, knowing you know he’s serious. “Faster.” He demands, thrusting up into you.
For someone who wanted you to take what you wanted, he’s awfully demanding. It’s your turn to slap his cheek, smirking when his eyes narrow on yours. David York doesn’t scare you. “You lay there.” You huff. “This is my fucking time to cum.”
Dave chuckles, “there’s the woman I married. Come on, fucking ride me.” He demands again and you grip his jaw, leaning down to slide your tongue into his mouth. 
“Shut the fuck up.” You demand, biting down on his lower lip. 
Shit, Dave kind of likes that. He squeezes your hips, keeping still for you.
Now it’s your turn to use him. Bracing your hands on his chest and starting to ride him harder. Your hips are rolling and your body starts to shake as you bounce on his cock. Leaning forward until he hits perfectly inside you. Gasping and clenching around him while you keep that same pace. 
Dave hisses when you start to bounce on his cock, using him for your pleasure and his hands quickly find your tits, squeezing and pinching your nipples. “Come on sweetheart, you can do better than that.” He taunts you, slapping your tit through your nightgown.
You hiss, slapping his hands away and then slap his cheek again. “Keep it up and I’ll zip tie you to the floor and make you watch while I fuck Kyle.” You threaten, enjoying the way he snarls and snaps his hips up. You laugh, leaning down and biting his bottom lip again. “You forget I can kill you too, York.” 
That reminder is unbelievably sexy to Dave, his cock twitching violently inside of you. “Jesus Christ. You- I’d kill you before you could kill me.” He defends himself, knowing you’re an incredible assassin but he’s better, stronger. You’re smarter, as much as he hates to admit that. “Are you gonna keep threatening me or are you gonna cum?” He taunts you breathlessly, your cunt so tight and hot around his cock.
“Oh you liiiiiike that.” You chuckle, biting his lip again and moaning when you start to fuck him harder. Pushing up from where you are laying across him so you can bounce on his cock harder. “Fuck, fuck, you’re an- an asshole but you have a- a good cock.” You moan, rocking your hips harder while you chase your release.
Dave watches you as you push yourself closer to your orgasm. Your tits bounce and he keeps his hands by your hips, not holding, just hovering. “Is my little slutty wife gonna cum all over my cock?” He asks, a breathless chuckle escaping his lips. “Come on baby. Cum for me. Cum for your fucking husband.”
“Fuck you.” You pant, grinding down on him just as your world explodes in a kaleidoscope of colors, blinding you while pleasure shoots through every pore of your veins. “Fuck! Fuck! Dave.” His name falls from your lips by accident, caught up in the bliss of your orgasm.
He fucking loves hearing his name on your lips, a groan escaping his mouth as he squeezes your hips, working you up and down his cock. He hisses when your walls grip him in a vice and he struggles but manages a dozen thrusts up into you before he buries his cock deep and paints your walls with his cum.
Panting quietly, you close your eyes, dropping your head down until your chin rests on your chest. You feel him relax underneath you and his hands let go of your hips. Reminding yourself that he just wanted to fuck you because he found out you were fucking the neighbor, you lean forward and tap his cheek with your hand playfully. “Good ride, York.” You tease. “Now you can say you made your wife cum. Once.”
Dave rolls his eyes, “only the best treatment for you, Mrs. York.” He retorts, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you down for a surprisingly tender kiss, his tongue licking along your lips. He hated finding out that you were fucking the neighbor.
You let yourself kiss him back, giving into the moment and imagining if you are really married to him. That it was for love rather than an arrangement between two assassins to maintain their cover. Your tongue slides into his mouth and you remember that isn’t reality, pulling back with one last kiss. You slide off his cock and stand up, looking down at him on the floor of your entryway. Instead of saying something stupid, you turn around and walk up the stairs, needing to go clean up.
Dave sighs, his head hitting the floor as he rubs his face. “Fuck me.” He murmurs, trying to process what just happened. He groans as he sits up, tucking himself back into his pants and he walks into his office, deciding to just get stuck into work. It’s going to be a long day. When you appear a while later, dressed and with a coffee in hand, Dave looks up from his computer. “Is it poisoned?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.
You roll your eyes, about to make a sarcastic comment before you stop yourself and just shake your head. “Not poisoned. And there’s a bacon and egg sandwich waiting in the kitchen if you want it.” You had broken down and fixed his fucking food, telling yourself it was just because you wanted some eggs.
Dave’s eyebrows raise at the news that you cooked for him. He stands up, grabbing the cup of coffee and he walks over to you, kissing your forehead as he passes, “thanks wifey.” He calls and makes his way into the kitchen, starving since he hadn’t eaten all morning.
You snort and purse your lips as you decide that you won’t push things. You have some paperwork of your own to finish up from your last assignment. The good thing about having such a big house and no kids is that you both have spaces to retreat to. The office downstairs is Dave’s and you had taken one of the upstairs bedrooms as your own space. Settling into your chair, you boot up your laptop and get to work. 
*** 
Dave grunts as he wakes up, your back is turned towards him, naked and illuminated by the morning sun. Dave can’t help himself, he shuffles closer to you, kissing along your shoulder and neck, your sleepy whimper making him chuckle. “Morning wifey.” He teases, nipping your shoulder.
It takes you a moment to remember why he is in the bed beside you. Last night when you had got to bed, Dave had come into the bedroom and demanded to sleep beside you. Claiming that your cover required it and it had turned into another satisfyingly rough session of sex. Shivering because of his lips on your skin, you crack your eyes open and turn your head to look at him, “morning hubby.” 
Dave leans away from you, looking down at your sleepy face and his heart thumps in his chest. That makes him frown and he shuffles out of the bed, deciding to have a piss. After washing his hands, he looks over at you when he comes out of the bathroom. “I’ll go put the coffee on.” He says, making his way downstairs to the kitchen with his boxers on.
It’s amazing how fucking hot and cold Dave York blows. You roll your eyes and climb out of the bed, annoyed he had left you to make up both sides since he had just walked out. You pull your nightgown and  robe on, muttering to yourself as you straighten the sheets and blankets, putting the decorative pillows against the headboard. This is ridiculous, you married him so you wouldn’t have to deal with issues like hurt feelings or bruised egos and you’re having to deal with it anyway. Plus you hate the way you had been disappointed he had left the bed.
Dave sips his coffee, yours waiting on the counter, and he watches you walk into the kitchen. “You have that target tonight?” He asks and you nod, grabbing the cup of coffee. He likes how you look in the morning, hair messy and face clean and sleepy. You’re beautiful and he hates that he seems to be softening towards you.
“I do.” You groan after taking a sip of the coffee and letting the strong brew sit on your tastebuds. “I’ll be back tomorrow. So don’t wait up for me tonight.” It’s normal for either one of you or both to go out of town, so it’s not unusual. “I’ll have to make sure it’s clean because the target has gotten paranoid.”
Dave nods, knowing it’s more complicated when the target realizes they are on someone’s hit list. “No problem, baby.” The nickname slips out and he decides to not act like it’s a big deal. The doorbell rings and Dave frowns, grabbing the glock he keeps in the kitchen drawer and he holds it in his hand while he makes his way towards the front door. Hardly anyone comes to the house. 
You follow Dave into the hall and he turns to look at you, “get back.” He hisses and you shift around the corner. Dave braces himself as he opens the door. 
“Oh Dave. I, uh, didn’t realize you were home.” It’s Kyle and Dave clenches his jaw as his finger twitches over the trigger. It would be easy to kill Kyle and God, he’s tempted, but he lowers the gun, tucking it into his boxers as he opens the door. 
“Honey, it’s Kyle.” He says through gritted teeth.
You straighten up, still in your robe and walk towards the door. Annoyed that the dumbass has decided to come to the house after being caught yesterday by Dave. “Kyle, what are you doing here?” You frown, stepping out from behind the wall and walking towards the two men. The last thing you need is some sort of pissing contest on the front lawn. Or for Dave to kill the poor bastard.
Kyle swallows harshly, looking between you and Dave. “I just - I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I didn’t - I was worried he had hurt you.” 
Dave scoffs and opens the door, “come in. See for yourself. She’s fine. I wouldn’t hurt my wife.” He emphasizes the word. Kyle nervously walks into the hallway, his eyes fixed on you. Dave wants to shoot him, fingers twitching, but it wasn’t worth the clean up. Or the move after the wife buys the bullshit story that he shot himself. Wasn’t worth the hassle, no matter how much Dave is glaring at him.
You want to scoff and tell Kyle that he shouldn’t insult you like that but he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that both of you are skilled and deadly. “We’re fine.” You promise him, crossing your arms over your chest. “But obviously we can’t continue sleeping together.” You roll your eyes. “And I know you don’t want Jackie to find out. Dave isn’t going to tell her. He doesn’t want it to get out, so I trust this stays between the three of us?”
Dave’s fingers twitch with the urge to strangle the fucker but he remains calm, letting you handle this. Kyle looks between you and Dave, “what about - you said - I don’t - Jackie doesn’t give me what I want. He doesn’t give you what you need. Please baby, can we - can’t we just continue? You said you don’t love him.” 
Dave is furious when he hears that, grabbing Kyle and shoving him up against the wall. “What the fuck did you say?” He hisses, his fingers wrapped around his neck.
“Dave!” You rush forward and grab his arm, certain that he is about to kill Kyle. It’s ego, it has to be ego. That’s why Dave is reacting like a mad man. “Don’t!” You hiss, digging your fingers into the pressure points. “If you kill him, everyone finds out why.”
Dave growls at you, dropping his arm. He’s tried so hard to keep his cover and it’s crumbled in a matter of moments. “Don’t you fucking ever look at my wife again. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even breathe in her direction otherwise I will fucking kill you.” Dave threatens Kyle.
“Woah man, yeah- yeah, I won’t- I won’t ever look at her again.” Kyle promises shakily and you swear he’s on the verge of pissing his pants. True to his word, his head doesn’t turn towards you as he slides past Dave, ducking his head as he fumbles for the door and bolts outside. 
“Shit.” You huff. “Did you have to threaten him?” Closing the door, you wonder why the fuck he cares so much.
Dave huffs, turning towards you, his blood is boiling. He doesn’t hesitate to grab you, spinning you and pushing you up against the wall. “You liked his cock?” He asks, shoving your nightgown up your hips with one hand, his other hand grabbing your thigh to lift it into his hip and he pushes two fingers inside of you after letting go of your nightgown.
You hiss, hating the way your walls clench around his fingers. “Stop acting jealous, David.” You spit, glaring at him over your shoulder. “You and I never touched each other. Don’t believe I didn't know about the secretary at the office who sucks your dick every Thursday after the department meeting.”
Dave pumps his fingers into your cunt, feeling you get wetter by the second and he leans in to kiss your neck. “She just sucks my cock. Nothing else. Likes that I give her more time off for it.” He reasons with you, knowing you don’t know about the liaisons he’s had during ops. “I get to act jealous. You’re my wife. How would you feel if I was fucking that pretty blonde down the street, Delilah?” He counters, pressing his thumb against your clit.
You moan, hating yourself for the flash of rage that floods your body and you imagine killing her. “That dumb bitch?” You scoff, fingers digging into his shoulders and your hips roll forward, eager for his touch. “She- fuck, she would bore you. Lay there like a limp fish.” You don’t have a clue how she would be. You know Dave assumes you fucked her husband, but you haven’t. You whimper when he curls his finger again and clench around him. “Fuck Dave, fuck me already.”
His cock is hardening but he wants you to suffer a little longer. “No. You’ll cum on my fingers first like a good little slut.” He reminds you, nipping your jaw before he pulls back to look into your eyes. “Then maybe tonight I’ll go find Delilah?” He taunts you, “maybe she has a tight little pussy for a limp fish.”
Your lips curl into a sneer, hating how fucking jealous you are and your hand comes up to grip his jaw. Leaning in, your eyes dark with anger, you whisper, “you can’t dictate to me who I fuck and think you can do whatever you want.” It’s more of a hiss but David, the bastard, just gives a smug chuckle and curls his fingers deeper. It pisses you off and you shove at his chest. “Get the fuck off me.” You demand, pulling his fingers free of your cunt and shoving him again. “I’ll finish it my fucking self. Don’t touch me.”
Dave lets you push him away and he snorts, “you finish yourself off, sweetheart, you and I both know it won’t be the same. You’ve gonna be aching for my cock to fill you up. I might as well take care of myself.” He has no qualms reaching into his boxers and pulling his hard cock out. He spits into his hand and starts to jerk himself, watching your chest heave.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” You spit, hating how you want to fuck him even now. Dave confuses you and it pisses you off. This was supposed to be a simple arrangement. “Go fuck the limp fish, see if I care.” You huff, turning around to walk away. You do care, but you’re not going to let him know that.
Dave snorts, letting go of his cock and striding towards you. “You want me to fuck you.” He says as a statement rather than a question while he pushes you up against the wall again. His cock now pressed against your stomach as he cups your cheeks, “tell me you want my cock, sweetheart. You can have it. It’s not hers. Legally, it’s yours.”
You seethe, knowing that you will hate yourself for this but you want him. He’s very caught up on the legality of this which is funny considering you both break the law for a job. “I told you to fuck me.” You remind him. “You’re the one playing games. You could already have made me scream your name. Your name, no one else’s.”
“I like the chase.” Dave tells you, shoving your nightgown up again and he hitches your leg over his hip, using his other hand to notch himself at your dripping cunt. He slowly pushes into you, wanting to feel all of you, to savor it.
“Chase.” You scoff. “What good is a chase when we’re married.” You lean back against the wall and moan his name, breathless at how good he feels inside you. If you had known he would feel like this, you would have arranged to fuck him when you needed relief. “Fuck.” You whimper, feeling him throb inside you. “You better make me cum.”
Dave chuckles, grabbing your other thigh to put it on his hip, lifting you off of the ground so he can fuck you into the wall. “Don’t worry baby, wanna feel you soak my cock this time.” He works his hips, shifting the angle with each thrust until he hears you cry out. “Tell me what feels the best.”
When he’s not being a dick, Dave can fuck. “Har-harder.” You beg, holding onto his shoulders and moaning at every sharp snap of his hips. Banging you against the wall and filling you just like you need, scratching an itch you didn’t even realize you had.
He slams into you, following your order, and he hisses your name. “You like this, don’t you? My wife’s a little whore. Are you my little whore?” He asks, gripping your thighs and bouncing you a little on his cock.
"Shi-shit." You moan, nodding frantically as you hold onto him. "Ye-yes. I'm your whore." You would say anything right now with the way that his cock drills into you and hits just right inside you.
He loves hearing that. Fucking loves hearing you call yourself his whore. He groans your name, continuing to push into you in that spot, wanting you to gush around him.
He presses you into the wall and keeps hammering into you. "F-fuc-fuck!" You gasp out, loving how you feel with him fucking into you harshly.
“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks you with a growl, “you gonna soak my cock? I want you to cum for me.” He orders, growling as your walls flutter around him. He crosses your ankles behind his back and lets go so you are secure, his body pressing you into the wall so he can press his thumb to your clit.
“Shit!” You cry out, eyes fluttering closed and your body stiffens when he presses your clit and start rubbing circles on it. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum- I’m- I’m gonna-“ you cut yourself off, gasping out his name when you cunt clenches down around his cock.
He groans when you grip his cock, making him hiss in response and he thrusts harder into you to try and work you through your orgasm. “That’s it baby. No one else makes you feel like this, do they?” He says through gritted teeth, “only me.” He adds, thrusting into you. “Beg me to cum. Beg me to cum inside of you.” He demands, his thumb now off of your clit so he can grab your thigh, adjusting the angle.
“Fuck.” It shouldn’t be that sexy to hear him say that. But it is. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, clinging to him and you pitch forward to lick a long line up his neck and over his jaw. Biting down on his chin, you hum, “cum for me. Fill me up.” You kiss his jawline. “Want to drip your cum while I kill a man tonight.”
Fuck, that does him. He loves hearing that and he sends him over the edge. He buries his cock deep inside of you, moaning your name as he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed while he turns his head to press his lips to yours, tongue plunging deep to smother his own moans of your name.
Heat fills you, eyes closed while you kiss him back during the long moments it takes for him to ride out his high. Grinding into you as he pumps his cum deep and finally comes to a rest. You almost hate when he pulls away, eyes opening to find him staring at you and you wonder what he is thinking.
Dave stares at you for a moment, wanting to tell you what he’s thinking but he knows it wouldn’t help either of you. He grunts, pulling out of you and moving your panties over to stop his cum from dripping onto the floor. “You’ve got to prepare for your op.” He says as he clears his throat, tucking his cock back into his boxers.
“Right.” The moment is gone and you nod, turning and walking on shaky legs towards the stairs. You’re going to have your wish, you’ll be dripping his cum all day. Except now you want to know what he would have said, biting your lip as you climb the stairs and wonder when the fuck you decided to start falling in love with your fucking husband.
****
Dave watches you as you finish the eggs and toast he cooked this morning. You've been sleeping together for a few months and as far as he knows, you haven't slept with anyone else. Neither has he, even stopping the secretary sucking his cock every Thursday. You sip your coffee, offering him one of those smiles that makes his heart clench and you tell him thank you for breakfast. "You're welcome, baby." He winks and stands up, grabbing your plates.
It’s been almost like a honeymoon with Dave. The past few months have brought both of you closer together in a way that seems almost natural. It’s almost on the tip of your tongue to admit your feelings for him, but you stop yourself. You don’t know how he feels and you don’t want to make yourself vulnerable to him if it’s just about the sex and “claiming” his wife. “You have a job tonight, right? For a few days?” You pout slightly, knowing it will be the first overnight job since the morning you came back after the showdown with Kyle.
“Yeah. International job. Gotta fly to London.” He tells you, trusting you with the details. It would be so easy to give all of himself to you, to tell you how he feels, but he can’t put himself at risk like that. “Don’t worry baby. I’ll bring you back something nice.” He promises, winking at you as you pout. “Plus I promise to make you cum as many times as I would’ve made you cum if I was here when I get back.” He promises you, winking as he loads the dishwasher.
“You better.” You smirk, watching Dave bend over and admiring his ass. There’s something sexy about watching your husband be domestic. The best part about it is that you never have to ask him to cook or clean up. “I’m going to just stay home this weekend while you are gone. Drink some wine and use my toy.” You tease with a wink of your own.
“Take photos. Videos. I want to see when I come back.” Dave growls, leaning down to nip your neck. The domestic life suits you and if he’s being honest, him. He likes how easy it is with you. You know him, the darkest parts of him, and you don’t reject him. He likes that. He love- no, he won’t say that. He finishes loading the dishwashers and he stands up, leaning down to peck your lips. “I'm gonna go get ready. I can’t be late for my flight.” Dave says and walks out of the kitchen, trying to focus his mind.
****
The house seems lonely without Dave, too big for just you. Instead of focusing on that, you decide to tackle the project you wanted to surprise your husband with. Despite sharing a bed for the past few months, all of Dave’s clothes were still in the now spare bedroom’s closet. You want to move everything over and organize it. Hopefully show him that you are open to a more realistic marriage with him.
Dave misses you. Fuck, that takes a lot for him to admit to himself. He thinks about you during the eight hour flight, during the taxi ride to his hotel, during the pre-op prep, even during the fucking op itself. As soon as the bullet is in the asshole's brain, Dave is heading to his room to grab his bag, eager to get back to you. He buys you a perfume that he knows will drive him crazy and you will love before he boards the flight home. He's early and he can't wait to surprise you. Cutting down the trip to two days instead of three, he doesn't call you to tell you he's on his way home like he normally would. 
He frowns when his phone rings just before he gets to his car. "Hello?" He answers the unknown number, glancing around the parking garage. 
"Hello David." The voice isn't familiar but the tone makes Dave narrow his eyes. 
"Who are you?" He snaps, immediately on edge. 
"An old friend. Decided to pop by and visit your beautiful wife. She's so pretty. I wish you didn't threaten me to stay away from her. Her little cunt was perfect for me. Shame you fucked up my little gig." 
Dave frowns, quickly putting the pieces together. "Kyle?" He scoffs, "what the fuck are you doing in my house? I'm gonna fucking kill you." He growls and his heart is pounding, realizing you might've fucked this asshole again and that hurts far more than any bullet.
Humming to yourself, you smirk as you run your hands across the numerous suits that Dave has, stroking the fabric. Your favorite is lined up first, it makes his ass look amazing and you might have snuck a look at the tags so you can order him another. All his clothes have been moved over. From socks to underwear and all his shoes. All you need to do now is bring over his toiletries into the master bath from the one he had been using. It’s just as the music that you had been playing changes to another song that you hear it. The slight creak downstairs, a floorboard that Dave had told you that he would fix when he got back.
"Tick tock, Dave. I'm gonna fuck her one last time before I slit her pretty little throat. She's got quite the bounty on her fucking head." Kyle chuckles and hangs up. 
Dave growls, his anger echoing in the parking garage and he rushes to get into his car, speeding out of the parking lot and revving through the parking levels as he rushes to get back to you.
Just because you are in your own home, doesn’t mean you are helpless. The second you realize that you aren’t alone in the house despite the alarm being set, you move towards the door where your weapons are stored. Quietly pressing your thumb on the biometric lock, the door slides open and you pick up your weapon, the weight of the handgun firm in your hand. You decide to place innocent, daft. “Dave? Baby? Did you come home early?”
Dave curses the traffic as he speeds back to the house. He keeps dialing your phone but you aren't answering. "Pick up. Come on baby. Pick up." He begs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Pick the fucking phone up." He growls, grabbing his cell to try and call the house phone. It rings and rings and goes to the answering machine. He says your name, "pick up the phone. Kyle is trying to kill you. Please. Let me know you're okay." He pleads, knowing the message will be played in the hallway.
You hear the phone ring, the house silent around you. If you were actually a civilian, you might have thought the squeak of the floor was a figment of your imagination. The answering machine picks up, an antiquated thing that Dave enjoys, and you hear his voice coming through the speaker - telling you that Kyle is the one who is in the house to kill you. “Kyle?” You call out. “What are you doing here?”
Kyle sighs as his cover is blown, stepping into the bedroom to find you with the gun in your hand. “Come now baby. Don’t be mean. I’m just here to do my job, same as you what are. Put the gun down or Jackie is gonna make this messier than it needs to be.” The red dot appears on your chest and you curse. Kyle smirks, “York seems pretty pussy whipped by now. I get it. You aren’t worth losing $2 million though.” He tuts, aiming his gun at you.
Your brows shoot up, wondering who the fuck put a $2 million price on your head. “You sure that it wasn’t just Jackie pissed off she had to go back to sucking your dick? I’d be pissed if it were me” You ask, smirking slightly at the scowl on his face at your insults. You wonder where Dave is and hope that he comes home after this is done.
Kyle shakes his head, "you always have been a mouthy bitch. Made for sloppy blow jobs." He snorts and aims the gun at you. "Don't make this difficult for me, beautiful. Get down on your knees...won't be the first time you've done that with me." He smirks, flicking the safety on his gun as he waits for you to kneel.
“I’m good.” You quip, not willing to give in or try to beg for your life. “Have to hand it to you though, you played your role of a no balls pussy extremely well. Never would have taken you for an operative. Hopefully Jackie has the balls in your relationship.”
With a chuckle, Kyle knows you're going to make this difficult. "Jackie knows her place. I'm just a good actor. Your little beau, Dave, isn't so good. He's too...temperamental. I didn't realize he was an op too until he threatened to kill me. That was the look of a man who knows how to kill." Kyle snorts, "he wanted to murder me for fucking you. You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say that poor fucker is in love with you. He's gonna be mad when he comes home to find your brains splattered across the wall." Kyle lifts his gun, "smile like you used to baby." He coos, finger on the trigger.
You refuse to die in this fucking house tonight. The gun you had set down on a table is right beside the perfect cover. All you have to do is reach for it. Your eyes flicker to the window and then back to Kyle before you shake your head “Fuck-“ before you even say “you”, you are diving for the gun and safety.
**** 
The tires squeal as Dave pulls into the driveway, barely managing to cut the engine as he grabs his gun and rushes into the house, slamming the car door behind him. He yells your name as soon as he's inside, running around downstairs and his heart is pounding as he runs around the house, yelling your name. 
He stomps up the stairs, calling your name, gun aimed and ready until he nearly trips over Kyle's body. He sees you laying there, blood on the floor, and he panics. Surging forward to kneel beside you, he keeps his gun aimed at Kyle and he grabs you to pull you close. "Baby. Baby, are you okay? Please be okay." He begs, hating how you are limp in his arms. "Please sweetheart. Wake up." He begs, checking your pulse and he is relieved when he finds it, looking over at Kyle to see the bullet wound in his head and two in his chest. 
"Damn sweetheart. You got the bastard. Shit, I am proud of you." He murmurs until a bullet wizzes past his head. "Fuck!" He yells, pushing you behind the bed and he ducks, trying to avoid the bullets coming into the house through the window, the glass shattering.
“Dave?” You groan, head throbbing since you had slammed it against the dresser and nearly blacked out. “Dave! Jackie- she’s an assassin!” As soon as you realize that he is actually here. Opening your eyes, you look around frantically until you see him, crouched down next to you and looking furious. “They- I have a $2 million price on my head?” Kyle might have been lying but you don’t know, hand reaching for your own gun instinctively.
Dave has to stop Jackie, “stay here. Stay down.” He demands, carefully shifting out from the bed. Jackie must need to reload as the bullets stop for a moment and Dave takes that opportunity, rushes out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He sprints out of the back door, knowing Jackie will expect him to come from the front and he uses her confusion to find out where she is. He sees her on the second floor of their house next door and he wastes no time. She’s confused. He has to act. 
He practically jumps the white fence between the houses, running to the back door and shaking his head in relief when he finds it open. When he enters the house, he sprints, trying to find Jackie on the second floor. She hears him coming, prepared with gun in hand but Dave is too fucking angry to worry about her shooting him. He’s faster and stronger. When she shoots, it hits him in the shoulder but he doesn’t feel it, high in fury and adrenaline. He grabs her, pushing her to her knees and she struggles but he’s quick. Pulling his gun out, he shoots her in the head. “That’s for trying to kill my fucking wife, you bitch.” He hisses, glad he has his silencer still on from his op. Jackie slumps to the floor and Dave shoots her in the chest twice before he lowers the gun. 
He turns towards the open window, the sniper rifle still there and he quickly dismantles it, shoving it in the bag at the base of the window to take it home, a silencer on the rifle. Turns out, everyone still wanted to keep their cover despite the bloodshed. Dave glances down at Jackie one last time then makes his way back into the house. He will deal with the bodies later, come up with some story of a robbery gone wrong. For now, he’s desperate to see you. When he enters the house, he’s reminded that he got shot in the shoulder when you come barrelling towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Dave!” Relief pours through you, nearly knocking you off your feet when you see Dave. Blood on his jacket but he’s alive. Throwing yourself at him and sobbing his name, you only pull back when you hear him hiss and feel him flinch. “I- you’re shot, aren’t you?” You should be more professional, less emotional, but you can’t right now. All you could think about was Dave dying, Jackie taking him from you before you could admit to him how you feel. 
“Just hit me in the shoulder.” Dave grunts, wincing as you move your hand down to probe the wound. 
“I- we need to get the bullet out if it didn’t go through.” You murmur, needing to make sure he’s okay. 
Dave nods, letting you lead him into the kitchen now that the threat is eliminated. There’s no ambulances or police on the way. No one knows anything, peacefully unaware in their little suburban faux peace. Dave grunts as he sits down, relaxing for the first time since he got into his car and he looks up at you while you rush around, trying to find the medical kit you both kept in case of emergencies. It’s not like you could go to the ER with your injuries. Too many questions. 
When you set the bag down on the table, Dave reaches for your hand, stopping you from continuing with the medical shit. “I love you.” He blurts out, the words feeling foreign on his tongue but he couldn’t stop them even if he tried.
You swallow harshly and you know that there is a tremble to your chin as you stare into his eyes. “I moved your stuff into the master bedroom closet.” You tell him. “I- I was planning on surprising you, asking you if you wanted to- to make the marriage real.” You exhale and manage to send him a small smile even though you are rattled. “I love you too and there’s something else you need to know.” Dave’s grip on your hand tightens slightly and he frowns, but you need to get this out. “I haven’t slept with every man in the neighborhood.” You confess. “Kyle was the only one and he pursued me. I didn’t- I wasn’t looking for anyone to fuck here until then.” As much as Dave hated the idea of everyone in the neighborhood fucking you, you figured he deserved to know the truth. 
He inhales deeply, relieved and yet so angry that he didn’t kill Kyle that day in the hallway. He could’ve prevented all of this. “When that motherfucker called, I- I was furious and - and so fucking scared.” He admits, “I can’t believe you took him out with a fucking sniper on you.” He says in awe, letting go of your hand so he can grip your hips, pulling you closer. “I can’t lose you, sweetheart. I’ll kill every person in this damn town before I let anyone take you away from me.” He promises, pressing his face into your stomach as he breathes you in, uncaring of the pain in his shoulder now the adrenaline is wearing off.
You don’t care that there is blood on your fingers, Dave’s and probably Kyle’s, you hold him close and run your fingers through his hair. “I love you.” You whisper quietly. “I- I was hoping that if something happened, you wouldn’t be here and be safe.” It’s crazy, but you didn’t want Dave to die because of you. Somehow he has come to mean more to you than your own life and it surprises you. But then again, it doesn’t - knowing that Dave feels the same with his confession. 
Dave shakes his head against your stomach, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I- I’d burn the world if anything happened to you.” He promises, kissing your stomach. “Baby, let’s get the bullet out.” He says, pulling back and hissing at the pain. He wants it out and bandaged.
Cutting his ruined shirt off, you play doctor with Dave. Concentrating carefully as you clean the wound and use a small pair of forceps to dig around in his shoulder for the bullet. Murmuring to him softly when he hisses a curse. Knowing that he needs to have it out and can’t really take much in the way of painkillers so he doesn’t bleed more than he already is. Finally, you pull it out and drop it into a small cup so you can start to sew the wound closed in order to bandage it.
“Fucker.” He hisses, “can’t believe that bitch caught me. We need to clean up the house, make it look like they abandoned it.” Dave says, “get rid of the bodies. Make it as clean as possible. I’m not ready to move.” He winces when you clean him up and start to stitch up the wound. “Fuck.” He grits his teeth while you finish up.
“There’s a pit, about ten miles away.” You tell him as you finish sewing him closed. “It’s a mine shaft that flooded. Plenty of things in the water that will appreciate a fresh meal.” It’s harsh, but you know that there would be an investigation with the execution style deaths of the couple. It’s better to make it look like they disappeared. “Take their cards and give them to someone to use.” Setting the needle down, you smear the stitches in antibiotic ointment and cover it with a clean bandage. “All done.” You promise, caressing his cheek gently. 
He turns his head to kiss your palm, “thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, watching you as you put everything away, tossing the used needle and things you used. “Come here.” He says, reaching for you to pull you into his lap. “I love you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours in a display of affection that seems to be reserved for only you.
“I’m sorry.” You murmur quietly, knowing this is your fault. If you hadn’t started sleeping with Kyle, this might not have happened. “This is my fault. I- do you think he was telling the truth? Is there a bounty on my head?” You don’t want to put Dave at risk if he wasn’t lying to you. You won’t make him live with a target on his head.
Dave bites his lip, pondering what you said. He has contacts who can confirm if there’s a price on your head. “He wouldn’t have done what he did if there wasn’t a price, baby. I’ll call my contacts tonight, find out if it’s true and if it is, we will move. Get new identification. I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.” He vows, kissing your cheek. “I can’t believe you killed Kyle with a red dot on your chest. That - that’s fucking sexy.” He chuckles, running his hand down your back.
You can tell that Dave is moving past the idea of there being a contract out on you, his hands sliding down to caress your ass through the leggings that you were wearing during your closet organization. “Yeah?” You smirk and make sure that you don’t touch that shoulder when you shuffle closer and start to straddle him in the kitchen chair. “You like that? Like that your wife is a killer too?” 
“You know I do.” He rasps, not wanting to play games. “I need you, sweetheart.” He admits and he leans in to kiss your jaw, “I want you.” He continues kissing along your jaw, “I love you.” He brushes his lips against yours, “I want to feel you.” He finishes before pressing his lips to yours, his hand squeezing your ass to rock you on his hardening cock.
“Don’t move.” You warn him, not wanting him to rip his stitches open on the arm that is curled against his chest. “I’ll do all the work.” You want him as much as he wants you and with one last kiss to his lips, you slide off his lap so you can strip down. Smirking as he watches you pull off your shirt, no bra underneath and then push you leggings off. Kneeling down, you bite your lip, working his belt open. “My brave husband, coming to save me.” You coo, reaching in and pulling his cock out. Wanting to make him feel good for putting his life at risk for you. Leaning in, you don’t waste time, sliding him deep into your mouth. 
“Oh shit.” Dave hisses, head tilting back as you take him deep into your mouth. “Baby. You- you don’t have to-” He feels so differently from that first night you sucked his cock. He doesn’t want you to do this, especially since you hit your head. He wants to feel you, to connect with you. When you hollow your cheeks, his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Shit. I- I - I want to be inside of you.”
Pulling off of him with a pop, you don’t tease him for how whiny he sounds because you know you are just as desperate. Instead, you climb back to your feet and straddle his thighs again. “I want you inside me too.” You moan, reaching between you so that you can place his cock against your entrance. When you feel the head pressing against you, you make eye contact with him as you start to sink down on his length. 
He doesn’t say a word as you sink down onto his cock, his mouth open slightly as he watches your micro expressions, falling in love with the way your brow furrows as your ass settles on his thighs. “Jesus, you’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, reaching up to cup your cheek with his hand, leaning in to kiss you.
You don’t hold anything back from the kiss. Opening up and letting him deepen it eagerly while you grind onto his lap, making sure that you are nice and open for him. You love the way his cock curves up inside you and the head butts up against your cervix. “I love you.” You breathe into his mouth when his tongue pulls back. “I love you, hubby.” 
“Love you too, wifey.” He chuckles breathlessly, kissing down your neck and his hand on his injured side grips your hip, making him hiss but he ignores the pain. He’s had worse. He loves how you grind down onto his cock, barely lifting up an inch. “No one's gonna separate us. I’ll kill anyone who tries.” He promises between kissing along your chest until he is taking your nipple into his mouth.
“Fuck Dave.” You gasp out, leaning back so that he can suckle harder. Your fingers tangle into his hair and you whimper when his teeth bite down gently. “Oh fuck, I love you.” You pant, closing your eyes and start to roll your hips a little harder on his cock as you get used to the angle. “It- it’s so sexy that you will do that.” 
“I’d do anything for you. Anything.” He promises, kissing over to your other tit and he groans into your flesh when you start to ride him a little faster. “That’s it baby. Take what you need.” He growls, biting down on your nipple before he sucks it, soothing the marks from his teeth.
You love how he always insists that you take what you need from him. Far different from the first, rage fueled fuck you had when he had discovered you were sleeping with Kyle. Every time turning into something deeper and more meaningful until you were right here. Your cunt clenches around him and you swivel your hips like you know he likes. You are going to get yours, but you also want him to enjoy this. 
Your moans and his grunts are the only noise in the kitchen combined with your skin slapping against his when you pick up the pace. “Come on baby, cum for me. My beautiful wife. Mine. No one's gonna take you away from me. I’ll fucking kill them if they try. I love you. Cum for me.” He pleads, his cock twitching inside of you as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him for the first time in his life.
You whimper, holding him tighter and feeling your entire body start to tighten up. It only takes a few more bounces on his cock before you are cumming, crying out his name and soaking his cock with your juices. Breathlessly panting as you feel him start to take over, chasing his own release. “I love you, I love you.” You promise him. “Fill me up baby.” 
He pants as you grip his cock, soaking him with your cum and he hisses when you continue bouncing despite your body shaking against his. His arm wraps around you to help you rock on his cock and he lets out a low groan when he cums, cock throbbing against he spills inside of you. “Shit.” He hisses and buries his face in your neck.
The feeling of Dave filling you up is amazing. Holding him close while he paints your walls, humming softly at the closeness, the love in the moment. “God I love you, Dave.” You whimper, turning and kissing his shoulder gently. 
Dave sighs, breathing you in. “Love you too sweetheart.” He murmurs, just pleased to have you in his arms. He’d take another bullet if it meant you being safe. “Let’s clean up and go deal with the bodies. It’s nearly midnight. We don’t want anyone walking out to ask what we are doing. We need to get their phones and cards too.” He is already transitioning into the killer again, methodical and precise. He won’t risk your life together.
“Yes sir.” You huff playfully, stealing one last kiss before you pull off his cock with a small groan and move to get your leggings and shirt. All of it will have to be burned anyway so you put it back on. “We’ll get everything taken care of.” You promise, relieved that he is home and both of you survived this. It could have ended very differently. 
**** 
Dave stands beside you while you watch the bodies sink, his arm around your waist as he pulls you close. There’s no one around and he takes a moment to just be beside you. He turns towards you after a few seconds, his gloves shoved into his pocket as he cups your cheeks, “I love you. We are in this together from now on.” He tells you, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. 
“Together.” You echo and Dave pecks your lips softly. This marriage was supposed to be a cover but Dave wouldn’t change it for the world. You are his wife and he will do anything to protect you. Even if it means murder. 
“Come on, let’s go home.” He says after a moment. 
“Home.” You nod, taking his hand so he can help you up the hill to his car. “So I was thinking we might need a baby to add to our cover…” You say as you get into the car. 
Dave stares at you in surprise, “a baby?” You nod, biting your lip, nervous for his answer. Dave sighs, pulling away from the curb after reaching for your hand. “Guess that means I’ll have two people I’ll kill for.” His answer sounds annoyed but you know Dave, a grin appearing on your face. A suburban life sounded like a nightmare at first to Dave but now it’s become his dream come true.
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adelarsims · 2 months
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OC QUESTIONNAIRE: IVO
thank you @simarcana for the tag :)
if any of you wanted to know ivo a little better, here's your chance.
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hello, my dear. i believe we never met... i'm the spellweaver here at the Academia, and a substitute librarian for the time being, until they find someone else for the job. so... in which capacity i may be of help?
NAME: that would depend on who you see in front of you right now, me or the... oh. then just ivo is more than enough, there is no need to stand on ceremony ~
NICKNAME: with such a short name as mine, no one really called me anything else. if you don’t count common words of endearment, but i don't think that counts.
GENDER: ...hmm. that made me think. i’m used to think of myself as a man, but when i imagine being offered a different opinion, it doesn’t feel alien or make me uncomfortable either... there's always something yet to be discovered about ourselves, isn't it.
STAR SIGN: Pisces, but you might not find it very fitting anymore, now that i... oh, apologies, i got a little distracted for a moment.
HEIGHT: i never bothered measuring my own height exactly. probably a little over 180 barefoot, a little under 190 on heels... why would that be important? i assure you, 171-cm-on-heels worth of the Grand Sage in a bad mood can be much scarier. ah, you want me to get you this book from the upper shelf? in that case, my dear, how about i teach you a little beckoning spell if you have the time? it will come in handy when i’m not around to help. ~
ORIENTATION: there was a time when i preferred one gender over all others. now i prefer not to prefer either. that is just for the best for everyone. i’m truly sorry if you asked out of... personal interest, my dear.
NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: i’m afraid even i don't have the answer. i was here for as long as i can recall, but my childhood memories are rather... hazy. it was definitely warmer than here though, that much i remember.
FAVORITE FRUIT: peach, the juicier the better. even imagining it in my hand, its fuzzy skin is warm from the sun, juice streaming down my fingers and palm and staining my sleeve... ah, it almost makes me feel the taste in my mouth.
FAVORITE SEASON: summer. cold and damp weather can be very hard to endure, it takes a huge toll on my mind and body alike.
FAVORITE FLOWER: a whole field of forget-me-nots. and the apple tree blossoming in the warmest month of spring. it’s not something you could pluck for your amusement and put in a vase... you can only appreciate it and step away, carrying this moment of peace in your heart.
FAVORITE SCENT: oh, you know these thick, spicy scents that are an essential part of every tiny store that sells all kinds of fake occult knick-knacks impressionable young humans are so obsessed with? yeah, this scent. it’s just... so nostalgic for some reason.
COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: i much prefer pomegranate wine, my dear, but alas, now that i’m not allowed to drink alcohol anymore... it would be linden and melissa herbal tea. aside from its mild taste and soothing qualities, another great thing about it is that it never becomes tart even if you forget about it for a long time... however, i would also never say no to a cup of hot chocolate in a pleasant company ~
AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: more than nine, preferably. sadly, i’m rarely given that luxury. everyone always needs something here, and you can't really say no when it's the Grand Sage who's asking, now can you?
DOGS or CATS: neither, my... guest doesn’t like animals. or, rather, they do not like to be in my presence anymore. why are you looking at me like that? i thought professor Ember warned you about... i see. apologies for confusing you then. at any rate, if i have to choose, then cats. a cat sleeps for twenty hours a day and wouldn't give me any trouble, while having a dog demands too much physical activity for my taste.
DREAM TRIP: anywhere warm, my dear. (...where i really want to go is to go back in time and make a different decision, one i won’t be regretting for the rest of my days, but...) oh, i look sad? these cold stones just aren’t good for my morale. winter this year was awfully long.
NUMBER OF BLANKETS: indefinite. nothing better for the night than making a warm cozy nest out of thick fluffy blankets. the flip side is that the warmer and cozier your blanket nest is, the more heartbreaking it is to leave it in the morning.
RANDOM FACT: there’s a belief among academia students that if you jump across the hall all the way to the statue of the First Sage on just one leg the day before the exam, and throw the note with your request, and the note stays in the statue’s hands, you will get an A+ without trying. no, no, not lazy, most of them prepare for exams anyway... it’s more of a tradition now. sometimes they write completely unrelated things. poems, love confessions to each other... someone even begged the statue to make professor Ember have a crush on them, poor soul. how do i know all that? whose responsibility it is to retrieve all these notes from the statue, you think?
--
tagging @kisica-plays, @pralinesims for OC you didn't answer this for, @agena87, @adoringsentiment, @kri-babe, @puppycheesecake and anyone who sees this and suddenly wants to hop on that train
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simmerandwrite · 1 year
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Sink Into Me - 01 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size! reader
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Pairing: mob boss!Steve Rogers x plus size female reader
Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.
Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.
Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.
Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Wordcount: 4.2k
Warnings: canon level violence (series), body image issues (series)
Notes: So, this just happened, okay? On the one hand, it helped me unslump when it came to writing. On the other, it's been a very serious distraction from other important writing, currently. I promise you a fun ride with this one, though. if you see me in the wild, i’m @simmerandcry
---
You were goddamn grateful it was Friday. The entire week had felt like walking through wet, heavy sand - each day had been harder and harder to survive and you were so happy to be finally on the other side of the busy season at work. And you had rewarded yourself with your favourite overpriced smoothie from Juice Press - the Pineapple Mango Tornado.
It was the easiest way to reward yourself not only after the long work week, but for agreeing to go to a ‘Happy Hour’ spin class with your old roommate Maria. Despite your insistence that the average spin bike would not support your hips and ass, she had peer pressured you into the entire thing. Mostly based on the premise that she required your opinion on the spin instructor and whether or not she was out of Maria’s league.
By the time the class was over, you decided that A. yes, the instructor was super hot, and yes, Maria should pursue, and that B. spin was not being added into your new fitness routine. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to walk soon enough because your quads were still on fire.
You hoped that your dog Hercules, a rescued pitbull staffy mix, would be happy with a very short walk that evening.
The next street you cut down was relatively quiet and you were grateful for that, too. You weren’t afraid to admit how much of a creature of habit you were, regularly choosing the same path to and from the subway in the most efficient manner. Of course, you tended to notice when things changed though - like how the scaffolding was finally removed outside of the building that was being renovated just up from the corner.
When you realized a new restaurant was opening up, you were both excited and disappointed. You loved having new places to check out but trendy restaurants always brought extra foot traffic and real traffic to the neighbourhood.
(Maria, on the other hand, insisted there was no chance the restaurant was going to be real and open to the public anyway. Apparently she’d heard a rumour the owner was connected to the mob. The mob. You couldn’t get over how dramatic she could be.)
This new place (that was definitely not run by the mob) had a patio going in too and well, that made up for the potential disappointment of overcrowding at least. Just as you were approaching and gawking at the patio furniture, you caught the eye of a man exiting the brown paper covered door pulling a phone up to his ear. And holy shit, what a man.
Dressed in a blue linen suit, whomever this person was exuded a kind of confidence you couldn’t even bear thinking about for too long. When your moment of eye contact continued for one too many seconds, you panicked and reached for your phone because apparently anything was enough of a distraction to keep from hyperventilating over this man’s stare.
By the grace of God, he flipped his sunglasses down from his head and ran a hand through his perfectly messy coiffed hairstyle as he made his phone call. 
Keep it together. All you needed to do was keep staring straight ahead and get on your way home. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, with a message from Maria who was stuck on her subway line as she headed home. She had sent a sweaty faced selfie along with the text.
You took a selfie to reply with, too, featuring your own post-workout face and your smoothie. 
Then you heard it.
You turned at a sudden noise behind you, the screeching of tires and a roaring engine pulled you away from your phone. You pivoted on your heel quickly, only to see the sleek black SUV speeding up even more. And not only was it coming closer at a dramatic pace, it seemed to be veering off towards the sidewalk too.
The sidewalk you were standing on. Just a few feet ahead of you, Blue Suit remained oblivious with his back turned and phone to his ear. 
For some reason, you sprang into action.
“Hey!” You sprinted ahead of the vehicle as quickly as your heavy legs could carry you, reaching your hand out to the suited man and grasping onto his bicep. With all the force you could muster, you pulled him towards you and you both tumbled to the ground, with your head ricocheting against the stacked tables as you fell towards the concrete sidewalk. 
The man landed directly on top of you, unscathed from the car that had crashed into the glass storefront of the future restaurant. His body acted as a shield from the spray of glass and before you could even understand what had happened, the engine revved again. Despite the damage to its front, the SUV backed up and adjusted its path, coming towards where you and this man were laid out.
He grabbed onto your shoulders with a tight grip, rolling you both through the shards of glass and closer towards the tables and the building. Just quickly enough too, as the SUV narrowly missed you both before it sped away from the scene.
What the fuck just happened?
You heard shouting as your ears rang, the raspy sound of Blue Suit’s voice from above you as he removed himself from practically covering your entire body as you remained laid out on the ground. You tried to pull yourself up too but you were thwarted by the spinning feeling in your head.
“Steve - what the fuck happened?” 
Hah, you and whoever had just run out from the restaurant were clearly sharing the same sentiments. 
“I don’t fucking know - but I can only guess it was..” Blue Suit trailed off, shaking his head of whatever that thought was as he kneeled before you. You blinked a few times, realizing he was speaking to you. “Hey, hey. Look at me. You okay? What’s your name? Did you hit your head? Are you in any pain? Can you sit up?”
Slowly, you blinked and tried to focus on him. Narrowed blue eyes laced with concerns stared down at you. You took in a slow breath. “That’s a lot of questions..” You clenched your hand then released it, running your fingers over the ground for your phone.
“Why the fuck did you do that?”
His question caught you off guard. “What? Are you seriously mad that I..” You tried to sit up and immediately recognized the bad idea. How hard did you hit your head? “Oh my god, I’m going to..”
“Woah, woah. Okay, just stay here on the ground, angel.” Above you, he adjusted and shed his jacket, folding it quickly in his hands and cradling the back of your head to place it under as a neck support. “No passing out. Oh, shit. Are you bleeding?”
“Angel?” You closed your eyes and tried to resist arguing. Stay on the ground. The ground was safe. The ground was stable and not spinning. Spinning equals bad. “Wait. What?” Using your hand, you searched your head and - fuck, yep. That was blood, just near your hairline. You could hear a crunch of glass underneath your back too.
The man twisted his head, looking back towards the shattered window and door of the restaurant behind him. The familiar sound of police sirens called out in the distance. “Sam, we’ve gotta get her checked out-”
You hissed out in pain when you tried to sit up again. Stay on the ground. “No, please. I’m fine. Just give me a minute..” 
The other man shouted back. “Listen, I’ll deal with the blue. Hopefully Ward isn’t on duty today. Call Katy, she should be nearby.”
“Hey! Hey. Wait. Please.” You grasped Blue Suit’s hand as he turned back to you. “The co-pay on my insurance is terrible, I- I can’t afford a hospital bill and-”
“You don’t have to worry about a hospital bill, I promise.” 
You turned your head when you caught the crack in his voice, the sincerity in his tone. A multitude of questions and arguments raced through your mind but when you met his eyes and absorbed his soft gaze, you faltered. 
“It’s the least I can do, angel. You saved my life.”
---
You had to chalk it up to the rush of adrenaline - how it just made sense to go with this man and get into a car and trust he was really going to get you medical attention. It wasn’t until you were actually arriving at a little clinic further into Brooklyn that you were hit with the gravity of the whole situation. 
That and the pain that was radiating through your skull hit you in full force.
Speaking of full force, why did you throw yourself into this situation? RIght, because that car was going to barrel into the man. And if you could help prevent that… Though it was just occurring to you that you could have been hit by that car too. You both could be dead and -
“Hey, come on. Let’s get you inside.” 
Blue Suit had managed to vacate the front seat and open your door in the back in seconds. You quietly said your goodbyes to the sassy dark haired woman who had driven you both and reluctantly grabbed his hand as you stepped out of the car. Slowly he helped guide you into the quiet little building, home to the Roosevelt Clinic.
Under normal circumstances, you might be annoyed by how Blue Suit was resting his hand against your back, carefully walking you past the front desk, giving a quick nod to the woman who sat there. She had motioned him down the hall towards a certain room and when you got to the door, he paused.
“Listen, Sarah is the best nurse here and she’ll take a look at that cut and make sure you’re okay.” He peered down at you with the most sincere look, finally moving his hand from where it was splayed against your spine and dragging his fingers across his beard. He seemed more shaken now, a bit less secure in his words. “I don’t know how to say thank you for..” 
You offered him a tight smile as he trailed off. “Don’t worry about it, that’s not..” You were lost for words too, nodding and stepping into the small medical room. Not before watching him speak quietly to himself as he walked away, tugging his phone from his pocket. 
Inside the room you sat on one of the chairs, reaching up again to analyze the cut on your forehead. The bleeding had stopped, at least. You barely had any extra time to think about it before someone else came into the room.
You could only assume this was the nurse, Sarah. You weren’t sure what to expect, but the woman standing in front of you put you at ease. Her graying sandy blonde hair was pulled back into a low bun and she offered you a small smile, grabbing a pen from the pocket of her scrub pants as she took a few steps in towards you.
“I’m Sarah, I’m a nurse practitioner at this clinic,” she said as she dropped into the rolling stool beside you, showing you her identifying badge before tilting her head as she studied your face. Her eyes landed on the cut. “Can you tell me your name, honey?”
You nodded and gave her all your information as required and moved your hand as she inspected your cut.
“Oh,” Sarah let out a small whistle. “How did this happen?”
“I, uh,” you took a deep breath and released it. “That guy who brought me in here. I don’t even know his name.” You laughed, though it was short lived as Sarah started to brush a small wipe across your forehead to clean it up. You hissed in pain.
“Steve?” She asked. “In the suit?”
“Blue Suit, yeah. Steve.” You bit your lip as she moved along. “I kind of tackled him to the ground because a car was veering off the street in his direction. Hit my head on the way down.”
Sarah paused her hands and pulled back, moving her stool slightly to the side to get a better look at you. “You tackled him?”
“I mean,” you laughed again. “I’m not strong but clearly if I have enough momentum and, you know, mass - it can cause some movement. It was sort of like a full force hug, I guess. But it meant he didn’t get squashed in front of that car…”
Sarah laughed stiffly too, shaking her head. She stood and crossed the room, opening up a cabinet. “Are you okay if I use some temporary sutures on that?”
You nodded again. “Sure.”
“Steve,” Sarah pursed her lips as she said his name. “He brings a lot of his friends here. I’m happy to patch anyone up for him, really. But this is a first. Usually he doesn’t bring me any strangers.”
You frowned. “Oh. I’m sorry if we got in the way of any real patients or..”
Sarah stopped you with a hand, grabbing her supplies and returning to the stool. “No, no. You didn’t get in the way, honey. This is good. I’m glad he brought you in.” Her smile was unusually joyous, grateful even, and you couldn’t figure out why. “And thank you for doing that, saving him.”
“No one needs to thank me,” you replied, “Seriously. I just… well, what else was I supposed to do but try to help?”
Once Sarah had taken care of the cut and gone through any possible concussion symptoms with you, she offered you some mild pain medication then stood again. 
“Did you go to Briar College?” You asked when she stepped away. “I just noticed that lanyard you’re using..”
Sarah reached into her pocket and pulled out the badge again, running her fingers over the bright blue lanyard. “I did. I’m a proud alumni of that little place.”
“I didn’t mean to be invasive,” you apologized. “My mom went there too. She did her nursing degree part time when I was in high school.”
Sarah quirked an eyebrow. “What year did she graduate? I did the same thing when my son was a bit older, actually.” 
You shared a few more details and, well, wasn’t the world small. It turned out Sarah was in the same class as your mom, although they hadn’t really stayed in touch beyond their classes. They had shared some experiences in a few group projects though, bonding over being the older women in the classroom.
 You and Sarah were really chatting like old friends when there was a knock on the door frame.
“How’s it going in here?” Steve reappeared in the doorway, dragging a hand across the bottom of his jaw as he watched you and Sarah. He looked much more collected than he had before, perhaps having taken the time to sit with whatever he couldn’t say earlier. And god, even under the fluorescent lights above him, he looked good. 
There hadn’t been time before to really take the man in, but as he took up most of the doorway, you couldn’t help but scan him. From his well kept beard, down his wide chest hidden behind the vest of his suit - what kind of man wore a three piece linen suit? And was that a gold chain and tattoos hiding on his chest, too?
You sucked in a breath but let Sarah answer for you.
“I think we’re all done.” Sarah stood up, turning away from you a playful smile on her face before moving towards Steve. When she pulled him into a hug, your mouth twisted into a confused frown. Then you thought about their matching blue eyes and…
“I’m okay, ma,” Steve muttered out, placing a kiss on the top of his mother’s head before he pulled away. “She saved my life.” His eyes flicked to you and suddenly you felt guilty about watching the personal moment that had been playing out. 
You weren’t sure how to react to that. “Seriously, it’s not…” Maybe you were better off not arguing about it now, as you realized what a worst case scenario might have been. If this Steve guy needed to have a soft moment with his mother, that was fine.
I’m okay, ma..
It was a bit odd, in a way, that Steve’s busy, working mother dropped whatever she was doing to help whomever he brought in. And for you to be the first stranger he had guided through the doors, you couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of friends this guy kept if they ended up needing medical care so frequently that there was a room always ready for them at the clinic.
Clearly you had been consumed by your string of thoughts enough to not even realize Sarah left the room because when you blinked again, Steve had taken a few steps in. 
“Are you feeling okay?” Steve started, thankfully. You had no clue what to say or do now, given that you were somewhere in the heart of Brooklyn with a minor head injury. Life saved, head stitched, exchanging awkward platitudes might have been next…
You nodded. “Yeah, pretty good, considering.” You pointed to your forehead and laughed. “Sarah was very helpful.”
Steve let out a quiet laugh. “You know, I’ve almost died before. A couple times. I was sick all the time when I was a kid, bad lungs..” He tapped against his chest with his hand. “I got a really bad infection and it was touch and go for a few weeks when I was in fifth grade. I also survived a lot of bad fist fights, a bullet to my hip and-”
Your eyes grew wide. “A bullet?” 
“I served overseas after college,” he brushed it off. “I’m here on the other side of it. But for the last hour, all I can think about is that my time might have come to a quick end today if it hadn’t been for you, angel.”
“Please don’t call me that,” you shook your head. You insisted he call you by your first name instead. And after you gave it to him, he repeated it to himself, as if he was committing it to memory.
“Steve, I was just right where I needed to be, I guess. It doesn’t have to be that…complicated.” You were really trying to relieve this man of his guilt. “Anyone else in the same position would have done the same thing, I’m sure.” You could tell he wanted to say more but after letting out a long breath, he must have changed his mind. “Plus, you saved us both, really. When that car zoomed past us again and-”
“And I rolled you through the debris and glass. Sure. But I just feel like I owe you,” Steve sighed, raising his hand to drag across his neck. “I’m in debt to you forever.”
“Could you just cover my taxi fare for a ride home?” You reached for your phone to check the time. Shit. “Hercules is gonna be so pissed.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment. “Your boyfriend’s name is Hercules?”
“What?” You blinked a few times, shaking your head as you finally stood up. “No, Hercules is my dog. What kind of person would be named Hercules in this day and age?”
“Listen, my best friend goes by Bucky. Anything is possible.”
“I usually take Hercules for a walk right after I’m done with work, he’s been cooped up all day.” You couldn’t hide your frown as you thought about the journey home. “Maybe the subway would be quicker-”
“Let me give you a ride, please.” Your name left his lips as he pleaded. “It’s the least I can do.”
You supposed it would be the quickest way back to your neighbourhood. And given you had already gotten a ride with the man and had just met his mother and you knew where she worked so… 
As you headed back out to the front of the clinic, you were surprised to see a police officer standing there. Steve took a few extra strides to get ahead of you, greeting the officer first.
“Hammond, it’s been a while,” he started, extending his hand out to shake that of the policeman. 
“Has it?” The officer shot back, a small grin appearing on his hard lined face. “What have I told you about leaving the scene of a crime, Rogers?”
Steve scoffed, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest. “We have different answers for what makes a crime scene.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“She was bleeding, I couldn’t wait around.” Steve gestured to you now.
You gave a small wave to the officer, feeling a bit unsettled about what the heck was unfolding ahead of you. “Uh, hello.”
After he introduced himself to you as Officer Hammond, he took out a small notepad and gave you that same small smile. You assumed it was supposed to be comforting but it came off a bit stiff. “I just need a statement. You saw what happened? Did you see the driver’s face?” 
In the middle of giving your recount to the officer, alongside all your contact information, you froze. “Oh my god. Would it help.. Would it help if I had a picture of the SUV?” You shook your head and reached for your phone, quickly scrolling through your recent pictures. Then you hesitated, given how unflattering your face looked when you had taken that earlier selfie to send to Maria. But, you could see the car as it approached behind you in the photo and maybe they could do something with that. Police departments must have fancy technology that could decipher a bit of information from it.
You turned your phone to show the officer. “It is a selfie, unfortunately, but..”
Hammond just nodded. “Yeah, that could help. Can you email it to me?”
Steve had a really nice car. A car nicer than anything you had ever sat in before. And despite the overwhelming day-to-day insecurity you held about your body, it didn’t feel like you were squeezing yourself into the vehicle. Inside, the leather seats looked immaculate. Steve weaved through traffic with ease, exchanging very boring normal small talk as neither of you seemed to be able to connect your true thoughts after everything that had happened. But dammit, if he didn’t look attractive with one hand on the wheel, as his other worked the gear shift. Had that sort of thing always been sexy or was it a Steve thing?
Because until an hour ago, you didn’t think anyone could pull off a blue linen suit and now…
Maybe you had hit your head harder than you thought.
By some miracle, the parking spot in front of the townhouse, home to your basement apartment, was free so Steve effortlessly parallel parked his car into place. Was that sexy too?  You made a mental note to check with Maria if you were insane. Maybe you had brain damage after all.
“Well, there we go. One ride home. We’re even, Steven.” You laughed at your own joke, feeling a tiny bit proud when you saw a smirk rise on his face. 
He said your name as he shifted in his seat. “Listen, I’m not going to say thank you again. Or call you Angel.”
You smiled. “Appreciate it.”
“But I believe in the universe putting people in the right place at the right time and..” He closed his eyes and took in a breath. “I’m truly in your debt forever.” He reached into one of the front consoles of the vehicle and grabbed a small card. After retrieving a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket, he scrawled onto the back of it.
“I owe you a thousand favours, alright?” He handed you the card. You stared at his handwritten phone number. “Call me to cash them in, anytime.”
You reluctantly took the card, knowing there was no point in arguing. Besides, this was a gesture. If he needed to hand you off with this promise, you’d play along and accept it. “Sure.” 
“That photo you shared with Hammond - do you think you could send it to me, too?”
You frowned, struck between confusion and, well, embarrassment. You hadn’t taken that selfie with the intention of anyone other than Maria seeing it. Sharing it with the police officer made sense but sending it to this Very Handsome Man felt really awkward. Wasn’t it police evidence now?
“Uh, yeah. I could do that.” You sighed, glancing at his email address on the card then twisting in the seat slightly to look at him. “Just don’t laugh, okay? It was not meant to be shared with the world.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad, An-” He stopped himself, letting out a short breath before saying your name. “Thanks. Stay safe, okay? And like I said, a thousand favours. If you need anything, anytime - you reach out.”
--
Chapter 02
What's next? well, you can look forward to flirting, romance, danger, protective Steve Rogers, some smut, some drama and moreeeeeee.
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nyonyen · 4 days
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NSFW ALPHABET - ratman 5
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AO3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
incredibly tired, but will most likely play with your hair idly. you won’t need much intense aftercare with him anyhow
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
doesn’t really have one for himself, he doesn’t think about his appearance at at all. he really, REALLY loves your neck— everything about it is just so primal-y alluring for him
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
5 is absolutely disgusting when it comes (hehe) to this, he’ll finish on the wall and not even think about cleaning it up
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
spies on robert while touching himself. it gets him even more excited when he’s just doing normal things, like counting the holes or eating chips
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
no clue except base primal urges. sees a vagina and his eyes fully open for the first time
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
holding you down with his weight and mouth clamped on your neck— not even biting but just keeping you in between his teeth… that’s heaven for him
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
neither serious nor humorous, just pure eagerness
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
downy blond hair, full bush ;-)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
silently breathing down your neck, full mating press, staying inside of you until he knows for a fact he’s got a great chance at knocking you up? if you consider that intimacy, go you!
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
hides in the rafters and overstimulates himself every other day
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
biting, voyeurism (noncon), has a very strong affinity for skimpy clothing because of one of 3’s lifted porn mags
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
again, the rafters in the ratmen hideout are his go-to, but you can persuade him to put out in the space between the fridge and the wall!
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
seeing even an inch of unexpected skin e.g. midriff, neck, thigh gets him going like a dog (rat?) in heat
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
each of the ratmen knows how short and unforgiving life is, so nothing is off the table in actuality
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
loves to fuck your face, even if you bare your teeth :-) maybe even more so! … do you really think this guy can give?
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
i don’t think it’s possible for any of the ratmen to go slow. 5 isn’t actually rough in this regard, but he loves it when you beg for roughness!
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
the only kind of sex you’ll get from the average ratman is a quickie, life is too short! expect major desperation each time from this guy though
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
again, everything’s a risk. he tends to stick towards the nest in the walls for that very reason. as for taboo kinks? sure, why not!
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
scarily long-lasting
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
experimented with a hairbrush once, hated it
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
5 paws at you a lot, you could consider that teasing if he gets majorly distracted by your chest
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
fairly silent besides animalistic grunting. i don’t think he’s capable of speaking any non-rat language
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
has often wondered if he could ever fuck someone with his nose. what a weird thought…
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
… much smaller than his nose
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
24/7, 365 baby!
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
immediately. very alert nonetheless. does he ever really sleep?
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