uselesssomebody

[uselesssomebody]

anyone wanna help 👀 would love a proofreader and someone to bounce ideas off of

anyone interested in oscar isaac characters, has watched or is willing to watch annihilation and can handle dark content please pm or comment !

yo is there any actual interest in a kane multichapter fic? i've been debating outlining it for agesss but don't know if he's a popular enough character to write about. please vote lovelies <3

[uselesssomebody]

yo is there any actual interest in a kane multichapter fic? i've been debating outlining it for agesss but don't know if he's a popular enough character to write about. please vote lovelies <3

[uselesssomebody]

𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕤 - young!marcus acacius x priestess!reader

complete masterlist | pedro pascal masterlist

words || 𝟏.𝟗𝕜

summary || in which the reader meets a young soldier under the watchful eye of cupid

taglist || @shesservingcvnt

a/n || ancient greek/roman settings are so goated lol

➵ this one's a bit short and shit lol i think i've forgotten how to write non-sexually charged fics. happy to expand with a part 2 when marcus is a general if there is interest; please show this through messages, comments or reblogs!

➵ obviously set before the events of gladiator II, which i haven't watched yet so if anything is not canon-compliant, oops! also, i did a lil research on the life of priestesses, but have no clue how actually accurate this is haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/a wee bit of angst

work at the temple of venus and roma is hardly quiet and calm. right next to the colosseum, the girls can hear the roars of the crowd and watch the drunken crowds as they leave the fights. some stumble their way into the temple, looking for a quick round with a courtesan, but the high priestess pushes them off. an older lady, still as gorgeous as the day she started, was adamant about the kind of rendevouz' that the women in her temple would entertain.

"help me with this, will you?" the girl is broken from her listening to the cheers of the crowd next door by another priestess, struggling with a large platter of fruit. she quickly rises to her feet, helping the other girl with her task. they place it down at the feet of the statue, and she sits beside her as she recites a short prayer. good fortune and love, prosperity and the continued beauty of rome. there's another roar from the crowd.

a beautiful city tainted with blood.

she still wasn't used to all the customs. coming from a small town, she had come in the cart of a merchant passing through. an undeniable beuaty, when the high priestess found her, she promised her a life of pease and devotion to venus, and she had agreed - it being better than her prospects on the street as a prostitute, or as a seller of wares.

she had been working at the temple only a few short weeks, and seen that these priestesses were nothing like the women of the other temples - they enjoyed the sex, they enjoyed the attention, and they welcomed the advances of the worthy men. soldiers, merchants, the occasional politician. they all filtered through the temple, as was their place.

it was not a lonely life. the girls were kind, and sweet - truly devoted and their beauty shone both through their radiant appearance and their glimmering personalities.

they watched the temples at night in pairs. there's usually not much incident, save for the occasional drunk or vandal, but they rarely worried of that. they were easy enough to tame. they watched women and men pray at the feet of the goddess, late into the night. sometimes, it was from a place of elation, and other times, of anguish.

today, she watches on along with one of the other priestesses, keeping up with the nightly cleaning. the other girl had a suitor, who would join her in the late nights. she at least had the courtesy to let her know if she was leaving early, and tonight was one of those nights. left alone in the temple, she tended to the candles and the cleaning. it's been quiet, and no one had come in yet, until she hears loud steps up the stairs.

glancing back, she sees the silhouette of a young man. he had something in his hand, and the moonlight shone on his armor. a soldier.

not the most common visitor to venus, but not uncommon, either. she stays quiet, watching him lower to his knees and murmur a prayer to the goddess.

she places a new offering at her feet, as the man's prayer ends. as she turns to step away, he takes her hand, head tilted up to her, still on his knees.

"a priestess?" his voice is gruff, but not ornery. there's that lilt of curiosity that young men tend to have. she nods silently, and she can see the hint of a smile on his shadowed face. "then you know the story of mars and venus, of course." he continues.

her brows furrow.

"of course." her voice is quiet, confused, but not dismissive.

"the most passionate of lovers." he starts to muse, rising to his feet. he towers over her, but she can't tell if that's his height, or his presence.

"did you wish to place an offering for the goddess?" she points to the bundle in his hand. he tilts his head, and hums.

"yes... but i feel that she's telling me it would be better suited for you." her eyes widen in shock, until he procures flowers. she purses her lips.

"it's not right to take a goddess's offering." her murmur is quiet, but makes him laugh.

"my prayer was for her to send me a pretty woman. and she has done so without offering." her cheeks warm, and she giggles.

"leave them at her feet, soldier." he nods obediently, carefully placing them on the feet of the statue.

"would she approve me stealing one of her priestesses away?" he asks, after doing so, and she rolls her eyes.

"hardly. and if she's not angry, then the high priestess will definitely be." he shrugs.

"i must be back in the barracks by morning. perhaps i can keep you company until then?" his suggestion makes her perk up. company from an attractive soldier who was obviously entranced by her? it was almost as though cupid guided her head to nod.

he's respectful as she finishes her tasks, before they sit on the steps on the side of the temple, used to go up to the upper floors.

"so... mars and venus?" he continues, once he's sat down with her, thigh, only partially covered by rough undercloth, brushing against hers.

"indeed. a pairing born out of an affair." she reminds playfully.

"well... sure, but mars was doing venus a favor." he argues, and she laughs.

"hardly. he got venus. she was doing him the favor." his brow raises, and he smiles.

"i suppose we will both argue for our favorite." she shifts to face him.

"i am her priestess, it would be blasphemous to not." he shrugs.

"i'm a soldier. i'm like a priest of mars." she looks at him in such a way hat he immediately retracts the statement. "okay, fine. just a follower." she smiles, nodding in agreement.

"better." she decides, "how long have you been a soldier."

"just a year." he shrugs.

"been outside of the empire yet?" he shakes his head.

"not yet." her eyes follow his strong jawline, strong nose, strong arms and strong legs. he's imposing, and seems to hold more authority than he does.

"did you really come in here tonight to ask venus for a pretty girl?" he looks over, a little sheepish.

"well... yes, i suppose. but i also figured there'd be a lot of pretty girls as priestesses." she rolls her eyes playfully, pretending to be disappointed.

"you men." she shakes her head, scolding him, and he laughs, taking her hand.

"why must you women be so pretty, hmm? have you asked that?" he kisses her knuckles. "and i think i've found the most beautiful to enjoy a hardened soldier's company."

"hardened? you've hardly been a soldier for a year!" he pouts playfully.

he comes the next night, and the night after. and then he comes in the mornings too, with a bundle of wild flowers for the goddess, with one that he always reserves for his priestess. the other girls talk, but she hardly minds that, spending her free time in the courtyard with her soldier.

one night, he's tracing the lines on her palm. it's a quiet night, and the fabric of her robes rustle in the wind.

"you're quiet tonight." she murmurs, and it's true. he'd usually speak of his training, his mates, his hardass of a general.

"i wish not to speak." he sighs, almost defeated. she blinks in confusion, looking over at him.

"what happened?" she shifts closer, hand on his arm. he sucks in a deep breath, not looking at her. he stares out into the empty courtyard.

"i must go, in two days. to egypt." she blinks in shock. of course, she'd anticipated it, but not so soon. and she never thought about facing it head on.

"why didn't you tell me?" he closes his eyes.

"i don't want to have to think of being away from you." he whispers, a vulnerable crack in his arrogant shell. she places her head on his shoulder.

"mars will see that you're back soon."

"and will venus make sure you'll wait?" he asks, and she suddenly realizes his worry.

"of course i'll wait, marcus." she promises. feeling slightly less conflicted, which she can tell by the way his shoulders loosen, she presses a small kiss to his cheek, and he pulls her closer by her shoulders, peppering kisses to her hairline.

"wait for me, my priestess." he doesn't pull away, he can't imagine he will until the sun comes up.

"always."

"when i'm back..." he starts tentatively, "i'll wed you." her eyes widen in shock.

"you will?"

"if you'll have me." he pulls away to look into her eyes, and he's uncharacteristically sheepish.

"i'll have you, my soldier."

it's a painful year of not knowing what had happened to him. her peers noticed the bout of depression that hung over her for the first few weeks, and the devout praying she would stay up to do every night. they girls understood, but they all usually knew better than to get attached to soldiers - the empire's war fodder. still, they would add a small prayer for the peace of mind of their young friend.

it's a sweltering day that she's been having, and she's waiting impatiently for the cool breezes of the night. it's a quiet day, and again, she hears the roars - human and animal - from the colosseum. she's broken out of her thoughts by one of the girls struggling with a platter of fruit. she springs up to help her, and an almost eerie shiver runs up her spine, the deja vu leaving her star struck for a moment after she places it at the feet of the goddess.

the night is similarly familiar, but she chalks it up to routine. her peer has left with the same boy, a thought that makes her heart ache at her own uncertainty over marcus. she's saying a prayer as she hears footsteps enter, but they don't bother her.

finishing the prayer, she clears the older offerings to make space for the morning's new ones, and the man steps forward. the shine of the moonlight illustrates the yellows and blues of the flowers he places, and she catches it out of the corner of her eye. he steps back, staring up at the goddess, before approaching he. she hardy notices, until she sees the single remaining flower in his hand, that he offers.

she adjusts to the shadow cast on his face, and immediately feels the overwhelming recognition wash over her, jumping into his arms.

"marcus?" almost as though she can't believe it.

"it's me." he assures, voice soft. kind and breathy - almost elated. he tucks the flower behind her ear, pulling away to look at her: that same face, as perfect as he'd remembered it, eyes brimming with - hopefully - joyous tears.

"you came back." she giggles softly, over them moon.

"and you waited, my love." he presses a kiss to each cheek, and she presses a chaste one to his lips.

"i think that means you have a promise to fulfil."

"i suppose it does."

[uselesssomebody]

young marcus acacius and priestess of venus reader coming soon! y'all i'm so excited to watch the second gladiator movie, i'm going with the guy i'm seeing too life is really looking up 😇 lol.

if anyone wants to be tagged in the fic, comment, send a message or come over to my inbox! much love to all of you <3

[uselesssomebody]

now that the day is coming to an end (at least for me here in Europe) all I can say is Jesus fucking christ.

how?? 4 more years with arguably the worst person is the world as the leader of the west? what the actual fuck??

i don't know if this alienates people. I don't really care. if you chose Trump over Harris or abstained from voting because 'they're both bad' or over the war in Gaza, or any single issue, you are a fucking idiot. possible abortion bans, Russia overtaking Ukraine, and national and global economic downturn for what?? because you couldn't care enough to do research??

do better america?? I hope I'm preaching to a choir here but what is actually going on. I hope nothing but the best for the minorities and women in the US, please stay safe out there. it's been a long fucking day.

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader

complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way

a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!

➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out

➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine

➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst

➵ fingering

➵ age gap (not a plot point)

(tell me if i miss anything)

having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.

and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!

another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.

so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.

she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.

older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.

logan took it very fucking seriously.

every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.

this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.

it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.

fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.

some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.

"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.

"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.

"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.

"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.

he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.

cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.

logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.

he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.

the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.

his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!

she squeaks, immediately sitting up.

"logan?"

"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."

she bites her lip.

"you took me home?"

"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.

"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.

"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.

he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.

knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.

as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.

just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.

that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.

"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.

"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.

"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.

"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.

conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.

theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.

finally, she sighs.

"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.

"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.

"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.

of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.

"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.

it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.

"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.

"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.

"i'm an idiot."

"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.

"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.

"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.

"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.

"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.

"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.

"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.

"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.

"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.

"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.

"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."

she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.

"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.

"why?"

"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.

"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.

"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.

"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.

"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.

"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.

"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.

"maybe i want you to."

"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.

"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.

"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.

"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.

"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.

"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.

"only fun if it hurts."

"i'm serious, princess." she relents.

"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.

"this okay?"

"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.

"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.

"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.

"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.

"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.

`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.

"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.

"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.

"thought that doesn't happen to you?"

"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.

"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.

"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.

"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."

"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.

"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.

she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.

"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.

"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.

"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.

"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.

"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.

"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.

there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.

"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."

safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.

[uselesssomebody]

🤭🙈🙈 I'm glad you liked it, love!

𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 - jake lockley x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | moon knight masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

moon knight spring '24 bingo prompt + progress || 'bruise'

summary || in which jake gets a little jealous

a/n || so excited to be part of this event by @moonknight-events, my board looks so fun! check out their blog for a shit ton of other moon knight content by a bunch of other creators!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+, and inherently dark

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smutty, but no sex

jake didn't take fares between 5 to 6 p.m.

he'd postpone his break so late, just to ensure he was always on time to pick her up from work. it annoyed him enough that he couldn't also drop her off, but the smattering of kisses that she'd pepper over his nose and lips before he left early for work made up for some - not all - of the worried thoughts he had of her commuting to work on her crowded subway train.

she finished work everyday at 5:00 on the dot, not hesitating with goodbyes and salutations, knowing who was waiting outside her building, just for her.

he stood outside his cab, hand on the passenger door handle to let her when as she usually bounded out of work, a beam on her face when she saw him. he checked the time, a cigarette almost half-smoked between his bare fingers - he wasn't getting his leather gloves ashy.

5:15.

what was taking her so long?

he hated having to wait for his girl: seeing her face after driving around the city - a somewhat lonely profession - was the best part of his day.

he slumped his shoulders, leaning against the car door, as he peered over the dark, but lively street. it was a row of offices, and other people were also clocking out. bored, he watched the gray cloud of smoke from his mouth, trying to distinguish it from the puffs of his warm breath showing up in the chilly air.

5:20.

5:25.

5:30.

he was starting to get concerned.

finally, after an eternity of waiting - see: 35 minutes - his face relaxes when he sees her hurriedly walking out of her work. immediately after, his brow furrows, at the sight of the man following behind her, a big, stupid smile on his face, mouth moving a mile a minute.

she looks up, noticing jake, and her face breaks into a look of pure relief, finally, a pep in her step as she nears her boyfriend. before she can greet him though, the guy behind her grabs her shoulder, whipping her back around.

jake's eyes widen at the little fucker's audacity.

he's saying some bullshit, holding onto her shoulder so can't turn back to jake, and the steam coming out of his ears leads him to only hear:

"... come out for a drink with me... really pretty... love to take you out-"

it's more than enough.

he calls her name, voice stern, but not to her. never to her. she whipped her head around, not turning as she mumbles a weak goodbye to the man, finally completing the short distance to jake.

she kisses his cheek quickly in greeting,before waiting for him to open the door, but he pulls her a little closer by the waist, pressing her body against his.

"let me kiss you properly, mi amor. i haven't seen you all day." her cheeks heat. he literally never does this, waiting to properly express his love after they got home.

"he's still looking?" she guesses, and his lips quirk in a smile, as he presses his lips to her soft, slightly parted ones, revelling in how she sinks into the comfort of his warmth.

"like a kicked puppy." he murmurs into her lips, and she giggles, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away.

"baby, open the door, i'm cold." she whines, and jake obliges her, pulling open the car door so she can sit back against the warm interior and crisp leather that he worked hard to maintain.

she only spares a glance at the other man. he's looking away.

"so, who was that?"

it had taken a couple hours, as well as the both of them reclining to the warmth of the couch - takeout clutched in their hands and a sitcom on the t.v. - for jake to finally ask the question nagging at the back of his mind.

she groans softly, hoping he'd forgotten. a silly wish.

"no one, jake." she murmurs quickly, to his immediate dissatisfaction.

"nuh-uh, amor, you have to give me more than that. he put his hands on you!" he said it like it was some inexcusable crime, and it made her giggle.

"he's just..." she sighs, chewing on her bite, "he's the new guy, y'know?" jake's eyes narrow.

"how long has he-"

"don't ask." she interrupts, knowing he'll be more upset if he found out the new guy's antics had occurred before. jake scowls, and she rolls her eyes, turning in the couch to better face him.

"jake~" she says his name softly, in a sing-song voice, prying the food from his hands and placing them on the coffee table. she cups his cheeks, running her fingers over his hair - messed up by that flat cap he always wore - and the little stubble on his face that he'd begun growing out when she professed she wanted to see him with a beard. she climbs slowly into his lap, guiding his arms to rest on the curve of her hips, "jake?" she finally asks again, as she's settled in.

"yes, mi amor?" his voice is gruff, as he lazily looks up at her. he's not shocked by her movements, happy to have her so close, but is still evidently stingy about the new guy.

"remind me, who did i go home with today?" she asks, rhetorically. jake rolls his eyes as he looks up at her.

"me, amor, but-"

"and who am i most excited to see whenever i leave work?"

"also me, but-"

"and who is the only person who gets to touch every part of me?" her voice drops to a whisper, guiding his warm fingertips under her shirt, to the skin of her midriff.

"me." he breathes out.

"you...?" she prompts.

"only me." satisfied with his answer, she leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his scratchy cheeks, and giggling she he squeezes her hips.

"and who do i love?" she whispers, when she breaks away for air.

"i hate when you talk to me like a child." he chides, changing the subject, and it makes her giggle.

"wrong answer, try again." he raises a brow of challenge, before pulling her closer, and then standing up, his palms splayed under and cupping her thighs so he could carry her into their bedroom. she squeaks in shock, clinging onto him, "what're you doing?!"

"showing you why you love me."

falling unceremoniously on the bed, she lets out a small 'oof!', but its cut short by the way his mouth captures hers in a hungry kiss.

"someone's needy," she teases, when he breaks away, but it's cut off my a small moan, as his tongue travels down the length of her jaw, to her neck.

"i'll beat the shit out of him if he touches you again." jake grumbles into her skin.

"are you kidding? he obviously knows i have a boyfriend, he's leaving me alone." jake's head emerges from where he's kissing at her neck.

"hmm..." he looks contemplative, "maybe... he could do with a little reminder."

she's unsure what he's planning, but his devilish grin tips her off that it's going to be an idea she might chastise him for. indeed, it is.

his head sinks back down. finding the flesh of her neck, and rolling it gently between his teeth, before clamping a little harder, and sucking. so enamored by the sensation of the slight pain laved by the tingles of his warm tongue, she doesn't realize what he's doing for a moment.

"jake!" she squeaks when she realizes, "you can't - can't mark me!" his laugh is gruff against her skin.

"why not?" without waiting for an answer, his teeth nip at the skin under her collarbone. she gasps at the feeling, trying to tug at his hair to dissuade him - to no avail.

"oh, baby, it's such a pain in the ass to cover them-"

"then don't." the curt response renders her speechless for a moment, enough time for his teeth to sink into the flesh of her shoulder.

"you want him to see..." he laughs.

"that sure took you a moment, amor." seeing as she doesn't meaningfully try to stop him, he continues his work, teeth sinking into as much of the expanse of her neck and chest as he could reach.

they're blue and purple the next morning. she looked like she'd been attacked by something. her eyes quite literally bugged out of her head at the sight.

groaning, she reaches for her makeup bag. jake peeks his head into the bathroom, immediately taking the bag from her hands.

"jake-?" her brows furrow in confusion, but she's cut off by how his other arm wraps around her waist, looking at her in the mirror to see all the bruises smattered over her skin. she reaches blindly to take back her makeup, but he evades her hands, "jake, i need to do my makeup!" she whines softly, making her laugh and kiss her cheek.

"you're gonna cover them up." she scoffs.

"of course i'm gonna cover them up, i look like i was in an mma fight with a raccoon!" he shakes his head.

"no, you look like you had fantastic, animalistic sex with your boyfriend." she cringes a little, laughing.

"and why do my poor coworkers have to know that?" he deadpans.

"as long as your newbie knows." he murmurs, a little bitter, as a finger goes to trace the bruises.

"are we seriously still on that?" she turns to face him, kissing his cheek, "i thought i told you he's just annoys me a little." she assures.

"oh, trust me, amor. he won't from now on."

he didn't let her put her makeup on - even for her face, not trusting her to not start covering up those beautiful marks. instead, with the time she saved in between waking up and eating breakfast, he pulled her back to bed, kissing over each and every bruise, as their coffee water heated.

"you know i love you, right, jake?" she murmurs softly into his forehead, kissing his hairline.

"of course, mi amor. i love you, too." 'she's being so sweet, isn't she?' he thinks.

"can you tell me where you hid my makeup bag?" he snorts, shushing her with a kiss to the lips.

"fat chance."

he's waiting outside her work again, squishing his cigarette under the toe of his shoes as he sees her walking out. with no fucking newbie chasing after her.

"how was work?" he asks, as she presses her daily greeting kiss on his cheek.

"good." she answered, a big smile on her face, as he slowly opens the passenger door. before she sits down, though, he gestures to her neck and chest.

"show me." he instructs, and she laughs, pulling off her scarf to show that the bruises were still well-pronounced. it makes him smirk, as he nods appreciatively, sitting down.

as he peels away, he glances at her, noticing her happy attitude.

"so, did newbie bother you? should i say 'i told you so'?" he teases, and it makes her a little embarrassed.

"i... no, he didn't bother me." he grins.

"tell me more, come on."

"he... looked horrified, if i'm being honest." she giggles.

"good." his response was curt, but his smug smile spoke 1000 words. as he stopped at a red light, he leans over to peck her lips.

"so, should i say it?" she smiles, indulging him.

"go on."

"i told you so."

[uselesssomebody]

joel and desi reader bc i love him so much , i’m desi too, ur doing gods work, we are so underrepresented 😭

hi love!! sorry for getting back to you so late! i wanna write it toooo just give me a crumb of the kinda stuff u wanna see so i can get over this writer's block :/

what would you guys wanna see? authentic indian meals w joel? trying indian sweets? his reaction to reader in a sari? or the struggles of having indian parents :P

[uselesssomebody]

posting the boys finallyyyy sometime this week and taking logan howlett/Wolverine requests!

[uselesssomebody]

gross, absolutely report and block her!!

instead, follow @swiftispunk <3 she's an amazing author

Hey Joel fans!

Just a heads up for everyone who loves Joel fics that maddiepunkk is a thief. Please don't like the fic she has pinned, it's not hers. Please report and block to prevent any more people being stolen from.

She is claiming that her theft is "free speech". 🙄

[uselesssomebody]

last day to vote!

okay, seeing the love for some boys content! i have some ideas/wips, what would you rather read?

(there's a summary of each wip, and then a poll. spoilers for those who haven't watched the boys yet!)

1. homelander x lead exec!reader - you're the new puppet lead executive after madelyn's death, and he wants to exert the same control on you that she used to have on him (dark)

2. homelander x childhood friend!reader - you were a high-level vought employee's daughter, and would spend time and study with homelander at the lab he grew up in. now, 30 years later, it's his vought-sanctioned birthday and he's showed up at your door (angsty)

3. billy butcher x ryan's caretaker!reader - you're tasked with taking care of ryan after becca's death, and you both always get a gruff and grumpy visitor (fluff)

4. soldier boy x scientist!reader - you're the scientist who discovered the compound that incapacitated him and was what allowed him to be experimented on and put out of commission for so long. so, along with his original team, you're next on his hit list (dark)

I also take requests! send them if you have any.

[uselesssomebody]

i’m DYING to see the homelander x lead!exec reader but the billy butcher option is winning the poll..i stay losing

hahaha pinky swear I'm gonna try and get around to all of these I think what I'll do is post them in order of popularity so don't worry that one's def gonna come out at some point!

[uselesssomebody]

okay, seeing the love for some boys content! i have some ideas/wips, what would you rather read?

(there's a summary of each wip, and then a poll. spoilers for those who haven't watched the boys yet!)

1. homelander x lead exec!reader - you're the new puppet lead executive after madelyn's death, and he wants to exert the same control on you that she used to have on him (dark)

2. homelander x childhood friend!reader - you were a high-level vought employee's daughter, and would spend time and study with homelander at the lab he grew up in. now, 30 years later, it's his vought-sanctioned birthday and he's showed up at your door (angsty)

3. billy butcher x ryan's caretaker!reader - you're tasked with taking care of ryan after becca's death, and you both always get a gruff and grumpy visitor (fluff)

4. soldier boy x scientist!reader - you're the scientist who discovered the compound that incapacitated him and was what allowed him to be experimented on and put out of commission for so long. so, along with his original team, you're next on his hit list (dark)

I also take requests! send them if you have any.

[uselesssomebody]

"Final Girl" - Ghostface!Felix Catton x Reader x Ghostface!Oliver Quick

a/n: for @acutely-autistic. mostly porn no plot lol, had a lot of writer's block with this one, sorry it took a while besties 🩷

Summary: Felix promises you a summer to die for when you join him and Oliver at Saltburn.

TW: dubcon, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, murder, blood kink, knife kink, mask kink, chase play, fingering, oral m receiving

Word Count: 1,100 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You don’t know how long you’ve been running. You don’t know how long you can keep running. Your legs are burning, and so are your lungs as you race through the hedge maze. Part of you always thought there was something off about Oliver. The way he wormed his way into Felix’s life. The way people around the two of you started dropping like flies. First it was Annabel. Then Oliver’s former friend, Michael, who you were partnered with for a tutorial. Then it was India. And now, today? You saw what he did to Farleigh. Saw him remove that stupid Ghostface mask and grin down as Farleigh choked on his own blood.

It was the quiet gasp you let out that alerted him to your presence. Or maybe it’s just what made him look at you and he was aware all along. Maybe he wanted you to see the violence he was capable of. He gave you that smile that once seemed so innocent to everyone, but now you knew better. You took off running, intent on warning Felix. As far as you knew, he was in the backyard, smoking.

Oliver’s footsteps echoed after you on the stone walkway as you ran for dear life, his voice calling out, an almost playful undertone to it, “Come on, love. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to… Let’s just talk about what you think you saw…”

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that you fancied Farleigh, your best friend Felix’s cousin. Felix had always tried to warn you off of him, that Farleigh would never be the right guy for you. But you ignored his words and continued fantasizing about the curly haired boy of your dreams. What was also obvious to anyone with eyes was that Felix fancied you. He was always so protective, so possessive. And yet, you always said he was like a brother to you.

You find him in the hedge maze, running into his waiting arms, breaking down into tears. You know Felix and Oliver have been an item this whole summer, though they thought you didn’t realize, but you know. Felix cups your face in his hands, asking what’s wrong in that sweet, gentle voice of his. Your voice trembles as you speak and you try to tell him what you saw. Your words come out all too fast.

“Oliver… Farleigh… He…”

Felix wraps you in his arms, his body shaking with what you can only assume to be sobs. You run your hand up and down his back, trying to soothe him. Farleigh’s gone. And Oliver is a killer. Then you hear it.

He wasn’t crying at all.

He was laughing.

Felix gives you a wry little smile and immediately, you turn to run, only to see Oliver. The two of them corner you in the maze, your heart hammering against your ribcage as you stare at the boys. Oliver’s face is still covered in Farleigh’s blood, and your jaw drops in horror as Felix kisses him without any hesitation.

Farleigh’s blood coats both of their lips as they turn to smirk at you. You try to duck out from under Felix’s arm, but he grabs you by the waist, holding you against the wall of the maze. Oliver grabs your wrists, pinning them to the wall as well.

It shouldn’t excite you, the way the two of them look at you like they want to devour you. They pull their Ghostface masks on, and you can feel their eyes on you as they drag you out to the field. You cry out as they stare down at you, and you hate that you’re enjoying the attention they’re giving you. Oliver pulls a knife from his pocket, still wet from Farleigh’s blood, using it to cut open the top of your dress. He trails it along your body and you just know he’s smirking under that fucking mask.

Felix’s hands slide up your legs, to the apex between your thighs, chuckling as he feels the wetness pooling there, “I thought you loved Farleigh, Princess. But here you are. Wet like a dirty little slut for the two who killed him.”

Your eyes go wide as Oliver undoes his jeans, freeing his cock. He grabs it, giving it one quick tug, slapping it against your lips, making you whimper. You hear him laugh under the mask, the sound slightly muffled.

“Open wide, love. Let’s see what that mouth can do.”

He’s so fucking big that you’re almost gagging without his whole cock even being in your mouth. Ollie begins to fuck your throat, a hand running through your hair almost affectionately while Felix fucks with you with his fingers. He lets out a low groan as your pussy squeezes around him, rasping through the mask as he adds a finger, hooking them in a curved come hither motion, rubbing right up against that rough patch deep inside of you. Your toes curl and you moan around Ollie’s cock, feeling his hand tighten in your hair.

Your eyes are wide as the two of them stare down at you in those eerie masks, Felix’s head tilted to the side in a way that feels almost condescending. You don’t understand. You shouldn’t like this. They’re murderers. And Felix is your best friend. You swore you managed to get rid of that pesky crush a long time ago. But now, with three fingers buried knuckle-deep inside of you while you choke on his other lover’s cock? You think that it’s quite possible you never quite got over that crush.

Ollie spills himself on your tongue with a groan, removing his mask. Felix does the same and you watch as the two of them kiss. Oliver’s hands twist in Felix’s hair while Felix continues pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady rhythm until you reach the pinnacle of your ecstasy, crying out both of their names, your eyes rolling back, your toes curling as white hot pleasure shoots throughout your body. Felix leans down, breaking away from Oliver, and presses a kiss to your lips while Oliver nips at your neck, hands moving to squeeze your tits.

“Are you going to kill me too?” You ask after Felix pulls away for breath.

He and Oliver exchange a look before shaking their heads, the latter speaking up, “We have no intention of doing that, love.”

Felix brushes his thumb against your lower lip, “You’re our final girl. All of this was to get to you. And we don’t plan on letting go that easily.

[uselesssomebody]

i need more felix shit from u 😣😣

—Jealous Girl !

Fandom: ‘Saltburn’

Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)

Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.

Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix

If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.

He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.

And you fucking hate it.

It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.

But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.

Not enough like a lover.

It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.

You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.

The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.

‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’

It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.

And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.

Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.

He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.

“(Y/N!)”

Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.

Felix and her.

Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.

Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.

You can’t look any longer.

You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.

It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.

But he isn’t Felix.

Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.

You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.

It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.

Just how you want Felix to be.

You decide not to return to the party.

—

Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—

Shit, is this even your hallway?

You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.

Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.

You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.

It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.

“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”

And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.

“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”

Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.

The color drains from your face.

Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.

He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.

Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.

Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.

“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.

You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.

So much for parties.

—

When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.

Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.

It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.

You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.

You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.

God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?

Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.

You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.

Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.

You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.

—

It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.

You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.

“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”

Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.

“And you’re not?”

He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Are you going to behave?”

A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.

“No.”

You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.

“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.

He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.

“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I’ll behave.”

He hisses it, and you’re pleased.

“Good boy.”

And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.

—

The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.

You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.

You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.

It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.

“We need to talk.”

You keep walking, him trailing behind you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”

His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.

“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.

He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”

He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.

He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.

“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”

“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“

You clench your teeth.

“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”

You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.

God, this is so wrong.

“I think you know.”

Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.

“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”

“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”

You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.

“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“

Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.

You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.

Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.

“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.

“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”

The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?

The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.

“What?”

You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.

“You heard me, Felix.”

His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.

���So that’s what you want?”

It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.

“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”

You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.

“God, you’re sick.”

He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.

“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“

Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”

“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.

“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”

You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.

“You think that I don’t want you like this?”

It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.

“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“

He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.

“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.

“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.

“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.

“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”

That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.

You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.

“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”

You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”

Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.

After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.

It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.

“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”

“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”

He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.

“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”

He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.

“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.

“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”

You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.

Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”

He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.

He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.

“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.

“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”

“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”

You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.

Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.

He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”

Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.

“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“

“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.

“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

[uselesssomebody]

just a piece

summary: dave only married you to keep his life as a hitman hidden. but when he comes home one day to you having cooked one of his childhood meals, he is doubting if he only married you out of necessity.

pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 3.6k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n ; unprotected p in v; dirty talk, lowkey breeding kink; love/hate; choking; mentions of killing people 

• masterlist •

To the world, he seemed to have a perfect life.

A nice, sizable house with a huge garden and plenty of space to expand. A loving wife, always making him lunch to take to work with him, always waiting for him when he had to leave on an extended work trip. Adorable kids who loved their dad more than anything, running out the front door when they saw his car pull into the driveway.

In reality, he hated it all.

Well, he loved the house and he loved the kids.

But he hated his wife. 

Wife.

It was simply a sham. A fucking fraud, an illusion to keep his profession as a hitman hidden from everyone.

Dave married her because he had to marry someone, and she seemed sweet enough, pliable enough. 

She was pretty, there was no doubt. 

He couldn’t have done all this with a wife he hated and whom he didn’t find attractive.

It was harder to accuse a hardworking family man with two kids of any murders than someone who lived alone.

So here she was.

Whenever he came home, he fucked her to keep her happy. Fucked her to let go of the tension inside him.

Maybe also because he enjoyed it. The warm, wet pussy of a wife he hated was better than his own fist after all.

Still, no matter how long he was gone for, he never found himself cheating.

Would it still be cheating even though he didn’t love her?

Because he didn’t, she was just a piece to keep up the appearance. As were the kids, as much as he loved them.

But not her.

Or did he?

Sometimes he found himself in doubt, when she greeted him with a wide smile and loving eyes after he came home from some investigation which actually was just another one of his hitman jobs.

Kissing him so hard he had to catch his breath after.

The way she cared for him, warm dinners every night, breakfast every morning.

She loved him, she really did.

But he didn’t love her.

No, he hated her.

When he came home this time, after having been gone for two weeks to take out some guy in fucking Italy of all places, a country his wife had always wanted to visit, he was already greeted by her sing song voice from the kitchen.

“Dave! You’re back!” She said with excitement, appearing in his view as she came from the kitchen, walking towards him with her arms spread wide. “I missed you, honey!”

His smile matched hers, even if it was just pretend, kissing her deeply as he embraced her.

Smelling sweet like her favourite perfume, the expensive one from Gucci she usually wore when he came home.

Why did he even remember this? Like it was important.

���Missed you too.” He replied, still smiling as he kissed her forehead. Hand smoothing down her sides, wandering over her shirt and then to her ass, nice and round in her jeans.

Sometimes he could imagine her in one of those frilly dresses the women wore in the 50s, the housewives who greeted their husbands with a fresh pie.

She was like that in a way, just a little more outspoken than the women of the 50s.

Then he smelled it, hearty and rich, a smell he knew but which he couldn’t quite place. 

As she looked at him, his brows furrowed in thought, she giggled, biting her lip.

“Do you recognize it?” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. Waiting for him to get it.

Dave had spoken so much about it before he left, not ever really to her, but she had heard him.

This dish his mother used to make him, one of his favourites.

“Carbonada.” The realization hit him, looking at her with a questioning stare.

She nodded, the joy on her face almost infectious, her small hands finding his, pulling him into the kitchen with her.

“I’ve looked everywhere for a recipe. You’ve talked about it to Matt next door, saying it was your favourite.” She said and somehow he wished he could turn her sweet voice off sometimes. 

The only way she shut up was with a cock in her mouth, her muffled whimpers so much better. 

Yet, he found himself listening, genuinely curious and impressed.

“It took me so long to perfect it, the way you described it, I really hope you like it.”

She was too sweet. Too caring, too kind.

For him at least.

There were rare moments in which he felt pity for her, felt like she deserved a husband who actually cared about her beyond the appearance he had to keep up to be the perfect American family. 

Someone who saw her as more than a hole to fuck, than the means to an end.

She let go of his hands to grab a spoon from the cabinet, and he found himself surprised to miss her touch for the first time, his hands warm where she had touched him.

Like a mark, fingers flexing as he stood behind her, watching her as she lifted the lid off the pot on the stove, white steam wafting upwards, carrying the smell right to him.

It smelled like his childhood, something he hadn’t smelled in decades.

Looked like it, too.

The beef, the squash, the rice, the potatoes. She even used green beans and corn.

It seemed a little more liquid than the stew his mother used to make, but besides that, exactly the same.

Dipping the spoon in, she turned around to Dave, holding one hand below it so the soup wouldn’t drip onto the floor, then held it out to him.

“Careful, baby, it’s still nice and hot.” A laugh accompanied her words, the laugh he had come to tolerate but which now seemed quite nice to hear.

“Well, let’s see what you cooked up, sweetpea.” He said, smiling a little.

Blowing on the food once or twice to cool it off, he carefully ate from it, her smile only widening as she watched his eyes go wide.

Almost exactly like the one he knew. Maybe a little too much paprika and not enough onions, but just as hearty and tasty as he knew it.

He couldn’t believe that she would go above and beyond to do this for him, from something she had only overheard, no less.

Did he really hate her as much as he thought he did?

Could he hate those big, gorgeous eyes that looked at him with hope and excitement as he chewed? That sweet smile of hers? Her cheeks, so soft and round as she grinned so wide?

“Fuck.” He said, and for a moment he watched her smile fade just a tad. Felt his heart clench just the littlest bit at the thought that she could be disappointed.

His broad hands cupped the back of her head and pulled her to him, a yelp escaping her when he pressed his lips against hers with a passion she rarely saw from him.

Not that he wasn’t passionate, but this surprised even her, pushing her against the counter, the spoon falling from her hand and landing on the floor with a loud noise.

Her hands cupped his cheeks as she kissed him back, wondering if this meant that he liked it.

She hoped, having worked on it the entire two weeks he was gone.

“How did you do that?” Dave asked against her lips, nose brushing against hers. He had never noticed just how pretty her eyes could be, always somewhat detached from what he was doing when he was around her.

Couldn’t get attached. 

Couldn’t?

He wasn’t. He hated her.

Still, even when he fucked her he preferred to push her face into the mattress, take her in some way that he didn’t have to look into her face. Not that she had ever minded.

“Tried it again and again ‘til I thought it was good.” She giggled, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Something was different about him today. “The kids can’t see it anymore and all the neighbours got their fill, Matt says ‘Thank you’.”

Dave could imagine her here at the stove, trying again and again to get it right, to please him.

Like the dutiful, little wife she was.

“God, I love you.” He sighed, and for the first time, he didn’t think that he was lying.

It scared him, he shouldn’t feel anything for her. It was dangerous, already damn dangerous that he loved their kids as much as he did. 

But her? She was a piece.

Nothing more than a thread to tie the illusion of a happy family together.

Fuck, he couldn’t love her.

“So, it’s good?” She asked, her hands wandering down over his neck, to his shoulders and coming to rest on his chest, curling into the crisp, white dress shirt he still wore. “Did I do good?”

Always out for praise. Hard to achieve with a husband like him but sometimes he gave her what she needed.

This time, it was genuine.

“Near perfect, babe.” He kissed her again, licking along her lips, begging for entry. She granted it to him, tasting like the lemonade she liked so much, the sweet mixing with the salty in his mouth.

Suddenly, he felt an urge for her that went beyond his pent up emotions from the past two weeks. Not that he hadn’t taken care of himself, because he did.

Always faceless women, but her body. Never her face.

Always her muffled moans and whimpers and those screams she let out when he was a bit rougher when the kids were with friends.

Did some fucking soup really make him cave in? What the fuck had she put in it that made him weak for her, suddenly?

A lapse in judgement, surely. Exhausted from his mission, brain weak.

“Are the kids home?” He asked in between kisses, already turning them around, hands wandering to her ass, to her hips, walking them in the direction of their living room.

She shook her head and a quiet groan left him, glad that he had her to herself.

“Slumber party.”

Her hand pressed against the bulge in his suit pants, half hard already, making her giggle as he groaned again, deeper this time. Palming him, feeling the thick outline of him as that familiar throbbing sensation set in between her thighs.

Growing wet at the thought of him inside of her, having missed him so much. 

The toys she had and her fingers just weren’t the same as his girthy cock filling her up.

“Don’t you want to eat first?” She asked, the back of her legs bumping against their sofa, fingers curling into his shirt to hold onto him. 

“Got a different appetite, sweetpea.”

His eyes were hungry, dark and piercing. Hands immediately moving to the button of her jeans, opening it as he kissed her again.

Pulling down the zipper, then letting his hand sneak into her pants.

She gasped when his thick fingers pressed against her clothed clit, a low hum following after. Her hands grabbed his biceps, steadying herself.

Always so pliable, that was the one thing he loved about her.

Jaw slack and eyes fighting to stay open as he coaxed more sounds out of her, pressing down harder.

“Dave-” She whimpered, hissing when he removed his hand again, yanking down her jeans. “I need you, baby.”

“Need you too.” He responded, voice gravelly as he helped her step out of her pants, then her underwear. “C’mon, darling.”

He did need her. Desire simmered deep in his abdomen, but he was still unnerved by the sudden sliver of affection he felt.

As if he wanted her for her and not because his dick was aching to feel something other than the rough palm of his fist.

Ached for her warm, wet pussy, filling her up until she was begging for his cum. Begging him to fuck another baby into her.

She didn’t know he had gotten sterilized right after their daughter had been born.

Back then he couldn’t stand the thought of her pregnant again, relying on him and crying for him. Calling every night while he was glad to be away from her for once.

Now… there was a tiny voice in his head telling him another would be great.

He shook his head as if to get rid of the thoughts, watching as she got on the sofa, on all fours. The way he usually fucked her.

On all fours, over the counter or kitchen island. Facing away from him even when she rode him.

Sometimes he indulged her, and while he didn’t mind looking at her face, it just felt different, felt better when he didn’t have to.

“No.” He heard himself say, reaching out lay his hand on her clothed shoulder before he could stop himself. “Get on your back, wanna see those pretty tits bounce when I fuck you.”

That was partly why, but he also felt the sudden urge to watch her face.

What the hell was happening to him?

A lapse of judgement.

Just a lapse of judgement.

She grinned, turning around and sitting down instead, leaning back onto her hands and spreading her legs for him.

Soaking pussy on display for him, glistening and waiting for him.

“Take off your shirt.” He ordered, hungry eyes raking over her body as he opened the buttons of his dress shirt. 

Fuck, she was gorgeous, always has been. Not even the way their kids changed her could really turn him off.

Back then, he had really thought it would.

She waited for a moment, her hands wandering along the inside of her thighs, slow and teasing as she looked up at him. Always a little mischievous.

Dave didn’t know whether he should hate or admire it, shrugging his shirt off and stripping out of his undershirt next.

She loved his soft stomach, he used to be leaner, before he met her. A little more muscular.

He still was muscular, strong when he wrapped his arms around her or pushed her into the mattress when his hips snapped into hers.

But now a little soft layer had built around them, from all the meals she was cooking every day.

He’d be damned to ever hate her food. What a damn talented wife he had, always whipping up the best possible versions of the dishes he knew, even impressing the neighbours when they invited them over.

She liked him soft.

When he raised his brows, she took off her t-shirt, throwing it to the side, working on her bra next as he worked on his pants.

She watched how his hard dick sprung free when he had finally taken off everything, crawling over her and pushing her down onto the sofa while kissing her.

One of his hands groped her breast, his mouth swallowing the moan that left hers. So soft and warm in his hand, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over the hardened nipple.

A shiver ran through her, letting him press her into the soft cushions, spreading her legs for him, feeling his thighs brush against her skin.

Cock heavy and leaking, resting against her stomach, his hand wandering higher to her throat.

Not squeezing, just feeling her faint pulse as she looked up at him with lidded eyes, so desperate for him.

There was something about this he enjoyed, the sight of his hand wrapped around her throat, the same way he killed people. If he just squeezed a little too hard, that desperate gaze would vanish from her face, from her pretty face.

Sometimes he wished he could, but then all of it would have been for nothing. And he had the kids, his son and his daughter that he loved so much.

He couldn’t do that to them.

Or to her.

“Fuck me, Dave.” She whined, her hips canting upwards, pussy aching for him. “I need your cock.”

“Is my wife’s little pussy hurting?” He asked with a grin, enjoying to see her like this.

Loved teasing her until she was begging him to fuck her, until he could do just about anything to her.

Her hand wandered to his dick, wrapping her tiny hand around the thick base, guiding him to her weeping entrance as she nodded.

“Need me to fill you up, sweetpea?” He asked, voice so saccharine sweet it bordered on mocking. “Want me to split you open?”

“Yes, Dave, please.”

Such a sweet voice.

Who could resist that? Slowly pressing forward, enjoying every inch of her tight heat, enjoying how she gasped, the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

What a sight.

Hand wrapped around her throat and her face already so blissed out as if he had just fucked her a few times.

Maybe he’d always fuck her like this now, watching her face when he buried himself inside of her, all the way to the hilt, until she whimpered and pressed her thighs against his hips.

“You’ve been good while I was gone?” Dave asked, already pulling back before slowly sinking into her again. She liked the pain, the faint sting of him fucking her open. “Or did you fuck yourself on some silicone dick thinking about your husband?”

Her nails dug into his bicep, the full feeling of him inside of her too much, only getting better with his words.

Shaking her head, forcing her pretty eyes open to look at him. “Didn’t fuck myself.”

He chuckled, snapping his hips into her harshly, making her cry out, before continuing his slow pace.

“Played with your little clit then, thinking about my fingers?” The way she clenched around him told him all he needed to know. “Of course you did, can’t go two weeks without me, baby.”

Fingers tightening around her throat, he sped up, the wet sounds of her pussy and skin slapping against skin echoing in the living room.

“You jerk off, too.” She said and he chuckled, the sound making her smile a hazy smile, getting lost quickly in the feeling of him fucking into her, his fingers slowing down the bloodflow. “Need me just as much.”

Dave laughed.

It was relief that he needed, thinking about her wetting his dick when he was away, not her. 

Maybe he needed her a little bit.

No, he knew what was stupid. She was just a piece.

A pretty piece with too much devotion.

She got closer quickly, her fingers finding her clit as he kept pistoning into her, her whimpers growing louder.

“And now my cock isn’t even enough?” He asked, squeezing just a little more, her eyes rolling into her head again. Mouth hanging open, sounds turning more and more breathy with each thrust.

Suddenly he realized he hadn’t watched her tits once, seeing them bounce in the periphery of his vision but keeping his eyes locked on her face.

Just what the fuck was happening to him that he’d rather watch her cockdrunk face than her pretty tits bouncing with each thrust.

When he’d avoided it for so long.

“Dave, please!” She whined, voice small as she came closer. “Fill me up, please!”

He groaned, her words almost doing him in. Loving when she begged for his cum, so hungry for it.

“Gonna fill you up, don’t worry, darling.” He grunted, losing his rhythm, thrusts becoming sloppy. “Cum for me, wanna feel your little pussy.”

She snapped, taking a sharp breath as her body seized up, the nails on his arms almost breaking skin as she came, squeezing his dick tightly. Almost forcing him out of her if he wasn’t thrusting into her with such a force that he pushed her higher with each snap of his hips.

“There you go, baby, just like that.”

He followed after, stilling inside of her and filling her up like he promised, lips finding hers as a deep groan rumbled in his chest. Grip around her neck loosening, hand moving over her breast, down her side and to her thigh, squeezing the meaty flesh there.

Forehead resting against hers as they both calmed down, her eyes opening to look into his, so close to her.

She loved his dark eyes, smiling as she caught her breath, her hands smoothing over his back now, wandering into his hair.

A shiver went down his spine when her nails raked over his scalp, once again so loving and gentle.

Too good for what he felt for her.

Though laying here with her, buried inside her still throbbing pussy, he felt a different kind of warmth inside him, cursing himself for it.

He wasn’t sure anymore if it was that fucking soup she made.

Must’ve been, showing him just how attentive she really was, the whole thing awakening something inside of him that he thought he had killed a long time ago.

“Don’t wanna get rid of you but,” she said suddenly, kissing his nose as she still looked up at him with those loving eyes, “you should eat, you must be hungry, baby.”

Dave chuckled.

Too damn caring.

“You’re right, I should eat.” He said, pulling out of her gently, forehead still resting against hers. “Then I’ll get my dessert upstairs.”

She giggled, cupping his cheeks.

He was so handsome, she could stare at him all day.

“You can also have it in the kitchen if you’re that starved.” She said with a mischievous grin, laughing quietly.

Yeah, something was different today.

And he wasn’t sure if this was good or bad.

None of this had been part of the plan.

Because of some stupid, fucking soup.

Dave had gotten himself into a situation more dangerous than any of the missions he’d been on in his entire life.

Falling in love with the wife he was supposed to hate.