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aurorawritestoescape · 7 months

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THE HOUNDS OF HELL

written with @milla-frenchy

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Steve Murphy

Summary: you meet two DEA agents in a bar. You drink too much and they offer to take you home.

Warnings: 18+ mndi. Dubcon (alcohol), dark!Javi, dark!Steve, unprotected piv, mfm, dvp, oral (f/m), ball sucking, manhandling, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, manipulation, cum eating, cum play, multiple orgasms. Steve can pick up reader. No age specified

Word count: 4,3k

A/n: @toxicanonymity this is for you🖤💖 It’s our way of thanking you for all the amazing fics you've been gifting us over the past year! We love you!🫶

The title is from the lyrics of Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes

Part 2 || AO3 || Milla’s Masterlist || My Masterlist

*****

You were spending Friday night with your friend in your favorite bar. The air was filled with music and cigarette smoke. You were chatting and drinking when two men approached your table. They asked if they could join you two, the place being packed. You didn’t mind, and they introduced themselves. The man who sat next to you had dark hair and piercing eyes. His name was Javi.

The blonde one, Steve, joined your friend. He had beautiful blue eyes.

Both of them were handsome and seemed nice.

Javi said they were DEA agents and you felt even more at ease around them. Every second man in Bogota was somehow connected to drug dealing and it was nice to meet someone safe. In no time you were talking, laughing and enjoying their company.

At one point Steve offered to buy another round and you agreed. A few minutes later, your friend said that she didn’t feel good. You offered your help but she refused, not wanting to interrupt the fun. At first, you felt a bit uncomfortable, alone with the two men, but as the night progressed you shared more stories, drank more tequila and forgot your concerns. They were good company and pleasant. They showered you with attention, yet weren’t sleazy or inappropriate. Sometimes you would notice their eyes lingering on your lips and chest for a little too long but you felt flattered.

“Vamos a bailar (let’s dance),” Javi suggested and you jumped at the opportunity to move as your head started to feel heavy after all the drinks.

Steve stayed at the table nursing his beer.

“Gonna watch you two for now,” he said with a glint in his eye and gave you a lopsided smile before Javi led you to the dance floor.

***

Soon your hips were seductively swaying to the rhythm of the music as Javi’s gaze was gliding over your lips, down to your breasts and legs. You turned around to show off your ass as your hands slid up and down your body accentuating every curve for his eyes to devour. A second later you felt his hands on your hips, not grabbing you but gently resting there, keeping you close. So close that you could feel his massive bulge brushing against your lower back. The idea of that handsome man getting hard because of you made you gush and you leaned against his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around your middle, a big hand splayed over your belly. Now with your heated bodies flush with each other, it seemed like there was only you and him on the crowded dance floor.

You felt his mustache tickling your cheek, his hot wet breath caressing your neck, and you turned your face to him. Javi’s eyes were obsidian with lust and even the flashing lights over your heads couldn’t push through their darkness. He looked at your lips and in the next moment he leaned in and kissed you, slowly and gently, as if luring you in. The moment his tongue tasted yours, you moaned and felt your cheeks heat up at your involuntary display of desire. You pulled away and turned your face away from him, trying to calm down and taking deep breaths.

Javi turned you around, and everything swayed, thanks to the tequila shots.

“Qué pasa, hermosa? (what is it, sweetheart?). It’s just a kiss. Estás buenísima (you’re so hot),” he whispered against your temple.

You realized that two pairs of hands were touching you. Feeling another broad chest at your back, you opened your eyes and tried to turn around but they stopped you.

“No, baby, stay like this. Wanna dance with you too,” Steve said into your ear and began moving with the music.

His bulge was grinding against your ass making you soak your panties. You were caged between the two man and albeit being nervous you couldn’t deny the growing tingling between your legs. They were hot and you were having a great time. While the music carried you, their hands were roaming your body, not aggressively but in the way that made you want more. At one point Steve’s face happened to be inches from you and your lips met. The kiss was slow and intense and you got lost in it while they both were holding you between them.

Suddenly you felt dizzy and hot so you stopped dancing and said that you needed some fresh air.

Steve walked you out while Javi went to pay for the drinks. Your legs were weak and you felt like you could fall any second.

“I think I should go home,” you mumbled, bracing your hand on the wall outside the bar.

“You ok, baby?” Steve asked with worry in his voice holding you by the waist, “Let’s get you in the car. We ain’t leaving you alone.”

“Take me home, please,” you asked as Steve wrapped his arm around your torso. You two got in the back of the car and a few moments later Javi joined you taking the driver’s seat.

***

You felt shaky and foggy, but happy to finally sit down. Too much alcohol in too little time, and you were clearly unable to drive. You took a deep breath of relief. Two DEA agents as bodyguards in the streets of Bogota, it couldn’t be better.

When Javi started the engine, you asked him to wait a few minutes, afraid of being sick. Steve, sitting next to you, leaned between the front seats to put a cassette into the car stereo and the sound of a bass guitar filled the space of the car. He turned up the volume, and you rested your head on the seat, staring at the streetlights lighting up the night city. Javi was hitting the wheel with his thumb to the rhythm of the music.

You turned to look at Steve, who was moving his head enjoying the song. Sometimes he closed his eyes, that way feeling the music even more. And then he started to sing.

You couldn’t believe how well he sang, couldn’t take your eyes off him. He looked at you and smiled as he was singing, and his blue eyes made you melt. He placed his arm on the headrest behind your head and leaned down to kiss you. Your panties had already been soaked under your short dress, since the three of you had danced at the bar. You felt yourself gushing more while you were kissing.

He smelled of mint, whiskey and cigarettes and was exuding self-confidence. Damn, he was so hot, with his brown leather jacket and jeans. When his lips slid down to your neck, you slipped your fingers into his blonde hair. His mustache was rubbing gently against your skin. You glanced over at Javi who was watching you two in the rearview mirror. He readjusted himself with a smirk on his face, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

Steve pulled back, his face still staying inches from yours, and asked, “how do you feel?”

“I’m better now. We can go...”

“Great. What’s your address, baby?”

After you told them, Steve gave a nod to the other man and leaned towards you again. Javi started to drive. Steve’s hand rested on your thigh, and you tried not to start rolling your hips while you two were kissing.

"Wait, I feel dizzy...we should…uh…slow down”, you mumbled, trying to blink the spinning away.

“You’re ok, baby. You didn't have that much. Soon you’ll be home, asleep in your bed, ok?”

You nodded, although you weren't sure you drank as little as he said. His lips were on yours again, and his hand slid up your leg. When you moaned against his lips, he slipped his hand between your thighs.

“No wait, I don’t-”

“Ain’t gonna hurt you, beautiful…just wanna have a good time before we get to your place.”

He hissed through his teeth when his fingers reached your pussy. “Damn! You’re soaked, baby. It's a shame we can’t enjoy it. But we’re good guys, aren’t we Javi?”

“Yeah…we’ll keep it in our pants, Hermosa, don’t worry.”

You relaxed, and when Steve plunged his fingers into your pussy you didn’t stop him. You let yourself be lulled by the ride and by his fingers, your head laid back. You snaked your hands under his jacket, and felt his hot chest, his muscles under the shirt. Your eyes rolled back, and you whispered, “fuck…’m gonna…’m gonna come.”

“Yeah, you're squeezing my fingers so damn hard. C’mon, give it to me, baby, you’ll feel better, I promise.”

You noticed him glance at Javi and smile, but your mind was too foggy to react. When you came all over his fingers, you grabbed his wrist to keep them buried inside you until you stopped shaking.

“Fuck…I really think I drank way too much…Shouldn’t have done that.”

You looked out the window, feeling the car slow down, but you didn’t recognize the houses.

“Where are we?”

“Just grabbin’ some stuff at Javi’s…won’t be long. Come on, baby. Can’t stay in the car at night, it’s too dangerous.”

“Wait, no…You said you were bringing me home!”

“And we gonna. Won’t be long, I told ya. Unless you wanna walk home alone, from here? Your choice.”

You sighed, and followed them. You couldn't possibly walk alone, in the middle of the night, in that dress. You stumbled, and Javi grabbed your arm.

“Lemme help you,” he said, smiling.

***

He led you to his apartment, Steve walking in front of you two. Your legs were still trembling from your orgasm and the alcohol in your blood. When you entered Javi’s place, the men glanced at each other and you felt slightly uncomfortable.

“You’re gonna drive me home, right?”

“Sure, baby”, Steve replied.

You shivered from the cold, your jacket was in your car, and your tight dress covered little of your body. Javi poured three shots of tequila, which he and Steve drank in one go. Javi handed one to you.

“Come on, hermosa. It’ll warm you up.”

You knew it wasn't a good idea, but you didn't dare refuse. You drank it, trying not to think about your complaining stomach.

They took off their jackets, and Steve moved closer to you. “Come dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand to you. Javi put on some music, and you mechanically took Steve’s hand. The music was soft, and even though you still felt shaky, Steve held you and you couldn't deny the warmth in your lower stomach. His hands slid down your body, brushing against your back then your hips, his nose buried in your neck. He breathed into you and his soft growls fueled the fire within you. When he moved his body closer to yours, you felt his hard cock. Javi joined you, pressing himself against your back. He was hard too. You let them lead the pace, and their sensual caresses made you forget your discomfort.

“You know, beautiful, we’d like to have a good time with you. I think you want it too. Don’t ya?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m not feeling well.”

“I’ll tell you what. We're gonna check if your pretty little pussy wants it. Ok?"

Without waiting for your response, Javi lifted your short dress.

“Look at me, baby”, Steve said, as Javi slipped his hand into your panties.

“Wow, hermosa…you're dripping. This pussy wants to get filled. She wants to take some cocks.”

Steve's eyes were fixed on Javi's, before looking into yours. His gaze was overflowing with carnal desire while Javi was gently running his finger over your clit.

“What do you think, baby? I know you liked it in the car. Want a little more?”

You couldn’t deny that Steve made you come quickly. If he was as good at fucking you as he was at fingering, you were going to have a great time. While you were trying to gather your thoughts, he smelled his fingers covered with your dried cum and licked them.

“Taste her, Javi. She tastes so good.”

Stunned, you felt Javi remove his fingers from your pussy, before licking them too.

“Yeah…wanna eat that cunt now. You’re ok with that, Hermosa?”

You saw yourself nodding, without really controlling your response.

“Come in the bedroom, bebita. Lemme taste you.”

***

You followed them, and Steve led you to the bed where you lay on your back. Javi took off his shirt. He was beautiful. Both of them were.

Javi crawled across the bed to you, pulling your dress up over your hips. He licked your pussy still covered by your panties and you couldn’t help but moan. Steve sat next to you, took off his shirt too, and unzipped his jeans. Javi alternated between running his fingers and pressing his tongue against the soaked fabric. He pulled your panties to the side, and planted a kiss on our clit, making you moan instantly.

“Fuck, hermosa…wanna eat you so bad.”

He traced your folds with his nose, then his tongue. Pointing it at your folds, he spread them as it went through, and you were no longer holding back your moans.

“Wanna let me fuck you a little, before I taste you? Yeah?”

You nodded. The fire in your core was devouring you from the inside and you weren't really in a state to say ‘no’ anymore. When Javi settled between your thighs after taking off his jeans, Steve was already lying naked against you. He let his fingers run over your breasts, your stomach, your hips. Both of them were gorgeous and hot.

Javi took his cock in his hand and rubbed it against your folds to soak it with your wetness. As he nestled his tip at your entrance, Steve placed his fingers on your chin, turned your face to his, and kissed you. When Javi thrust in, you whimpered into Steve's mouth and he smiled. You felt your folds spread around Javi’s thick cock, and it felt good, so good that you couldn't help but moan.

“Oh fuck, you’re tight. Damn…already wanna blow my load into this pussy.”

He thrust in a few more times, growling in your neck each time he bottomed out, before pulling out and sitting down on his heels.

“Want me to fuck you too, beautiful?” Steve asked.

You nodded, and he manhandled you on top of him, your back on his chest, your dress pulled up above your breasts.

“We’re gonna make you feel really good, baby. Trust me.”

Your knees were bent and your feet planted on the bed. He grabbed his cock and pushed it up into you slowly, while Javi's eyes couldn't tear themselves away from your pussy swallowing Steve's cock. “Fuck me, that’s hot”, he said, still looking at the place where your bodies made one.

You felt exposed, fully offered to them, as Steve thrust into you slowly, after Javi had already stretched you.

Your eyes were closed, your body following Steve’s movements, so you didn’t see Javi leaning towards your pussy. When you felt his lips on your clit you breathed out a soft “oh my god”.

Steve said, “I told you we’d make you feel good, baby.”

And damn he was right. Steve’s cock was plunging in and out of your pussy while Javi was sucking on your clit. Sometimes he lapped at your folds, and you knew his tongue met Steve’s cock, his soft skin. It turned you on even more.

They heard you moan loader every time Javi’s tongue moved up from your folds to your clit, as he played with your sensations, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud. Steve groaned, still fucking your pussy, “Damn, I’m gonna come hearing you whimper like that, baby…”

"Not yet", Javi growled, "We're not done with her.”

He slightly lifted his torso up and asked you, “you’re gonna be a good girl, and cum on Steve’s cock, hermosa?”

You nodded, feeling how close you were from the double sensations. Javi’s tongue dancing over your clit and Steve’s slow strokes in your pussy were making your orgasm build fast.

“Come on, baby”, he said. Be a good girl, and soak my fat cock.”

When the climax hit you, Steve didn't stop talking. Telling you that he was proud of you, that you were taking his cock so well, and that he couldn’t wait to fill you up.

You had just come for the second time that night, and you thought it would be the last. But when Javi pulled back and Steve lifted you up, you realized that you were wrong. Javi lay down on the bed, as Steve took off your dress and said “You’re gonna ride Javi now, beautiful. Make him feel good, ok?”

You straddled Javi, and without hesitation this time you grabbed his cock with your hand before impaling yourself on it.

“Look at you, Hermosa…taking my big cock like a champ.”

Their praise made your head spin, and when Steve stood up and presented his cock to you, you didn't hesitate. You gave it a few licks, before letting him sink into your mouth. You slowed down your movements so you could suck him properly, and his precum was running down your throat.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. You’re so damn good at this.”

You were giving all of yourself, wanting to please him. At the same time Javi’s hands were roaming your body as you were riding him.

“Wanna suck my balls now, baby? Yeah, just like that, fuck…”

Steve held his cock against his lower stomach and jacked off while you licked his sack. You took one in your mouth, then the other, looking into his eyes. His gaze was down at you, as his firm hand kept jerking his cock, until he pushed it down your throat again, holding his balls in his large, firm hand.

“Fuck, Steve, we found a good slut. Ready to take our cocks in her little holes.”

Steve hummed, alternating between slow and deep thrusts in your mouth, and then fucked your throat until you were choking on his cock.

He pulled out and said before getting off the bed, “Fuck her rough now, make her scream on your thick cock. Gotta prepare her for what we’re gonna do next.”

You shivered when you heard him, wondering what he was talking about, but Javi didn’t give you time to think. He gripped your hips, fucking up into your pussy hard and fast.

“Yeah…take it like a good whore. Fuckin’ take it.”

Steve was sitting in a chair by the bed smoking a cigarette and watching you getting pounded. He turned on an oscillating fan standing on the dresser as it got too hot. The air was humid and smelled of sex.

Javi grabbed your neck with both hands, slowing down the pace and instead fucking you deeply, and groaned, “I want you to come on it.”

You didn't have the presence of mind to say that you couldn't come again. Your clit was rubbing against Javi’s lower stomach and, being impaled on his cock, you let your body take over and you came again, hearing Javi growl, “fuck…this pussy’s squeezing me so hard.”

Steve was calmly watching you unravel on Javi’s cock, a cigarette in his mouth and his hard dick in the hand. His thick long member was still glistening with your saliva as he was slowly stroking himself.

When you braced your hands on the bed feeling and looking spent after the drinks and the fucking, Javi sat up and let you rest on his chest. You were catching your breath on his lap, nuzzling his neck, when Steve got up from the chair and came up to the bed. He handed the almost finished cigarette to Javi who took a few drags, holding you against him.

Then the men looked at each other, communicating without saying a word, and Steve slid his hands under your arms lifting you and helping you off the bed. The men were manhandling you as if you were a fuck doll for them to use. You felt degraded but couldn’t help but love it.

You stumbled on your trembling legs and Steve immediately grabbed you by the back of your thighs and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he searched for your lips with his.

Everything was buzzing around you and you felt like you could fall off him every second. So you embraced his neck tightly with your arms and let him devour your mouth. You couldn’t help but rock your hips and grind your pulsating clit against his soft tummy.

While kissing Steve, you heard Javi get off the bed and stand behind you. His hands grasped your thighs and he whispered into your ear, “ready to take our fat cocks, hermosa?”

When you parted from Steve and looked at him with worry, the man gave you a carnal smile, tilting his head.

“We got you so wet, baby, they’ll slide in with no problem. And we’ll be slow, we promise. Right, Javi?” he said with a smirk glancing at his friend over your shoulder.

“Claro (sure),” Javi chuckled, as Steve’s cock nudged your wet hole.

You moaned when he pushed his tip into you, your thighs spread wide around his middle letting him do it easily.

“Stick it deep inside her. She deserves it,” Javi murmured, his lips brushing against your neck.

You felt Steve’s cock slide into you deeper inch by inch until he bottomed out with a soft ‘yeah’, his fingers digging into your thighs. Steve made a few slow thrusts bouncing you on his cock and you whimpered into his shoulder.

“Stuff her pussy with me, Javi.”

He grasped the back of your neck with one hand and pushed you closer to him, your naked breasts pressed to his chest. Javi was helping to hold you up as Steve’s length was buried deep inside your cunt.

“Got a place for me, hermosa?” Javi murmured and his hand guided his cock to your entrance, already stretched around Steve’s thick member.

You felt him push the tip in and you gasped.

“C’mon, bebita, let me in,” he whispered as his hand slithered between your bodies and he began rubbing your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back and Javi finally slid the head in. You felt stretched to the limit as the second cock was spreading your walls wider but the dull ache soon was replaced by pleasure when they started rhythmically rolling their hips. Your moans and their grunts filled the bedroom as their cocks were moving in and out of your crying cunt. Steve’s half lidded eyes were locked with yours.

“Fuck… love your pussy, baby.. ‘s tight.”

“She’s dripping down my balls, Steve. Nuestra putita (our little slut),” Javi said through panting, increasing the pace at which his length was ruining you. Pleasure was spreading through every cell in your body and you were trembling in their arms.

Your cries were getting louder and the men were growling with animalistic vigour, caging you between their sweaty bodies.

“Come again for us, baby, come on our cocks,” Steve encouraged you as his hand grabbed your breast and he twitched your nipple.

“We’re gonna fill you so full, hermosa, you’ll taste our cum on your tongue,” Javi whispered, leaving kisses on your cheek and jaw, still rubbing your clit with his fingers.

Steve chuckled at Javi’s words and they both started moving you up and down their cocks. The gentleness was gone, only feral desire was leading their actions. You felt their members slide against each other inside your dripping pussy, hitting your cervix and massaging your soft spot.

Your climax hit you so hard and you were shaking in their embrace and tears welled up in your hazy eyes. Every part of your body was flooded with ecstasy and your brain shut off while they kept fucking you through your shattering orgasm.

Soon they both followed you. First Steve moaned, closed his eyes and thrust deep and slow into you, shooting the spurts of his warm cum as deep as he could.

“Gonna fill her too,” Javi growled and bit your shoulder before he began squirting his seed making your pussy even fuller. Steve seemed completely lost in the pleasure. They both kept fucking you through their highs and the lewd sounds of squelching mixed with the moans.

When they stilled inside you, you slumped down in their arms completely spent, exhausted, fucked out like never before and they both placed you down on the bed. You all were breathing heavily, bodies sweaty and satiated.

Javi went to get a cigarette and Steve sat down on the bed next to you. He was looking down at you smiling while his hand glided down from your stomach to your puffy folds. You whimpered when his thumb brushed your clit and you tried to close your legs.

“Shh, I won’t, I won’t. Just wanna see you ruining the sheets, baby. Spread ‘em.”

Still catching your breath you opened your legs. You felt a trickle of their cum spill out generously out of your stretched hole and slide down to your asshole. Steve cursed.

“Javi, come look at our messy girl,” he said, his eyes glued to your overflowing pussy. His fingers kept sliding between your folds gathering the pearly liquid and pushing it back inside you.

Javi came up to the bed, his semi hard cock swaying with each movement, and stood there smoking and watching Steve play with your cunt. You felt your core tighten again but couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. The room was spinning when you finally let yourself rest and fell into deep sleep.

***

You woke up the next day in your bed, your pussy sore and your head pounding. Your roommate said that a blonde man had brought you home asleep in his arms early in the morning. You tried to puzzle together the details of the night but all you could remember was the best fucking of your life.

*******

Thank you for reading!❤️

Comments and reblogs will be greatly appreciated!

PART 2

*****

Other fics by @milla-frenchy and me

Keep on your mean side - Joel x f!reader - dark

The Burglary - Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon

Bad Girl - Joel x f reader x Tommy - dubcon

*****

Here’re our Steve and Javi fic recs❤️ Check these hot stories out!🥵

The Raid (Javi x reader x Steve) @toxicanonymity

After Hours (Javi x reader x Steve x Carillo) @psychedelic-ink

Crossing Lines (Javi x reader x Steve) @lunitawrites

Lie Still (Javi x reader x Steve) @milla-frenchy

Tag list: @littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @nervousmumbling @stevie75 @puduvallee

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intoanotherworld23 · 5 months

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In The Middle

Summary: Javier decides to let Steve join in

Warnings: explicit sexual content, fingering, oral female receiving, voyeurism, dom Javier, slightly dom Steve, submissive reader, praise kink, dirty talk, implied threesome

A/N: haven’t written for Javier in what seems like ages so here is for all my Javier Pena girls! Reblogs and comments are always encouraged and appreciated to help support your fellow writers! My tag list for Pedro is always open so feel free to join! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Feeling completely lost and overwhelmed as hands gripped the sheets beneath you. Knees bent with your legs spread wide open muscles burning from the stretch. Javier and Steve looking up at your disheveled face. A panting and sweaty mess.

"That's it cariño, that's such a good girl for us." Soft praises echoing in your ear as Javier sinks three fingers inside of you while Steve kisses your legs.

Steve’s jeans were starting to become tighter as he watched you unfold because of them. Wanting to pull himself out and slip his cock between those lips. The mere visual had a shiver running up his spine.

"Can you feel his fingers inside that tight cunt?" Steve speaks up as he kisses your hips a mocking tone in his voice. Twisting your face in the most innocent way making both men snicker. Javier curving his fingers up making you gasp as Steve keeps a firm grip on you to keep your body still. Trailing sweet and lingering little kisses along your neck and collarbone.

"Poor baby can't speak." His voice barely above a whisper like he just wanted you to hear him. Javier exchanging glances between you two as he thrusted his fingers harder so he was currently knuckle deep inside of you.

"Can you speak? Can you do that for us baby?" Javier wanted to hear your sweet voice and knew you were struggling right now.

Giving them both a nod in reassurance to let them know you were alright. Soft lips kissing your cheeks as you reached to grab each man. Fisting Steve’s shirt sure to leave crinkles. The other hand tugging on Javier’s hair as the palm of his hand brushed against your clit.

"Javi I want your tongue." Whining pathetically Javier smirking up at you while Steve started pinching your nipples into nubs.

"Of course, anything for my pretty girl." Swiftly removing his fingers feeling incredible empty at the sudden loss whimpering that it hurt and you needed to feel him.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

"There you go sweetheart." Steve chuckles in your ear as you fully let yourself go. "It's okay, I got you."

And you know that he does. Javier trusted Steve with his life and that he would do anything to keep you safe, and made sure you were well taken care of. Javier had always fantasized how you would act with Steve so close and intimate. Thankful now that he approached his fellow detective with the idea who was quick to agree.

Javier was putting in quick work right now. He wanted it so badly he was desperate to have you cumming on his tongue. Typically he liked to take his time, and edge you until you were a mess. But today, he wanted your orgasm.

"I know you're so close." A loud moan slipping out of your mouth echoing around the room. Writhing between the two men as Steve reaches a hand down to rub circles on your clit as Javier thrusts his thick tongue in your sensitive cunt.

The closer you get the more your legs start to tremble and shake, and the more intense Javier eats your cunt out like a starving animal. The two men look to each other with determination on their faces. You can feel yourself starting to slip.

"Oh fuck." Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching. Javier looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and that Steve was here to witness it.

Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Javier could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line. Steve really felt honored that he was here to be a part of this even though he would have loved to feel you around him.

"That's it cariño, let go for us." A low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the spectacular orgasm you just experienced. But for some reason though it still wasn't enough.

Feeling a pair of lips kissing your thigh and another kissing your neck. Javier’s touch was always so gentle as he helped ease you through the orgasm. Both men taking in your sweaty and messy look like you were a work of art. A tear running down your cheek only to have Steve wipe it away.

"Still need more don't you cariño?" Javier looking between your legs to see how drenched you still were you cunt clenching around air only further confirming what he knew.

"Yes Javi please it hurts." Whimpering as you started to grind your hips against the bed pressing your thighs together to help ease the pressure you felt.

"Then let's give her more Steve."

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etclouie · 2 months

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morning kisses and cuddles

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: finally having your boyfriend back home left only one thing, lazy morning kisses and cuddles. (Steve Murphy x !fem reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: established relationship, pure fluff, written with summer in mind(like mid june), just cuddles and kisses really, they have a ginger cat (it’s mentioned twice), lmk if i missed any!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 812

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: anon request from my masterlist account, so hope anon finds this🙏

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 miscellaneous masterlist | main masterlist

the sun was casting a golden haze through the thin curtains that adorned your shared bedroom, his head in the crook of your neck while he cuddled into your left side.

the summer heat had you both blanket-less and in less clothes than you’d usually sleep in, despite the heat, Steve clung to you.

you’d woke up a couple minutes ago, simply just admiring him as he cuddled into you, his left arm thrown across your stomach and his leg hooked over the top of your own.

fingers brushing softly through his hair, his blond locks curling at the tips and the length framing his face.

mornings like this felt perfect.

the man you love curled into your side, happily asleep in your arms with zero care in the world.

a soft breeze swept through the room from an ajar window, one you faintly remember Steve getting up during the night to open.

you’d woke to the empty space next to you, blankets kicked to the bottom of the bed and the silhouette of your boyfriend by the window highlighted by the moonlight. a soft call of his name had him turning towards you and climbing back into bed, curling into your side and into your current position.

nails scratched softly across his scalp, listening to him purr in response to your touch- even in his sleep, he revelled in your touch.

the soft sound of your cats feet padding into the room and up onto the bed, nestling on top of you. rubbing his head against Steve’s arm and purring at the feeling between his ears.

watching in awe at your little family, nestled into you. leaning your head down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead, fingers brushing his hair out of his eyes as he started to stir.

his grip around you tightening, his eyes remaining closed while he let out a huff, his voice gruff and laced with sleep.

“hi sweetheart”

he mumbled out before pressing a soft kiss to your jaw, the bed jostling as he turned further into your side, causing your cat to up and wander off - Steve now laying fully on top of you.

arms loosely bracketing your head while his head buried itself further into your neck, placing a kiss to his forehead, fingers in his hair to carefully lift his head to catch his gaze, tired eyes looking up at you.

“hey you”

the sight of him tired and clinging to you was one you had grown used to, from late nights of Steve working with Javier and never being home at a decent hour, having your boyfriend home and in bed with you was all you wanted and needed.

“sleep well?”

you’d asked softly, earning a tired and amused huff from him. watching as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, before resting his chin on your test, tired eyes looking up at you and a dopey grin plastered across his face.

“mhm, better with you”

watching as he slowly sat up, sitting against the beds headboard while his hands reached for your hips to pull you into him. sitting you in his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, that same dopey smile still plastered across his face.

humming as you leaned in to kiss him, soft at first before he tried deepening it. his grip on your hips tightening slightly, while his tongue swiped along your bottom lip in silent request.

pulling back to murmur against his lips, a grunt of disapproval leaving him as your words sunk in.

“what’s got you so touchy this morning?”

a soft chuckle pushing past his head while it lulled back, hands stilling on your hips as his thumbs continued to draw shapes onto them.

his eyes searching yours before they shut in bliss, his whole world sat in his lap.

soft paws padding back into the bedroom before the bed dipped next to you both, hearing Steve scoff as the cat nestled in against his side.

“damn cat”

resting your head against his left shoulder, head tilted towards your cat, allowing your hand to scratch between his ears while Steve’s left hand soothed across your back. lips pressing a kiss to your forehead before he was mumbling out again, words softer than his previous comment.

“just happy i’m home with you, had a dream that we got to spend the day together then i woke up in your arms and it just clarified everything for me. you’re where i want to be. you’re my home”

mind going blank at his words, your face giving away your lack there of words because he was leaning in to kiss you again. his hands cradling your face, lips leaving yours after a minute before he spoke again.

“i know, sweetheart. i love you, and i know you love me too”

requests are open here !

#⋆˚࿔ louie writes 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#𝜗𝜚 steve murphy #etclouie #steve murphy #steve murphy fluff #steve murphy x female reader #narcos fic #fanfic #writers on tumblr #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #narcos #narcos fanfiction #boyd holbrook #steve murphy oneshot #steve murphy fic #steve murphy imagine #narcos fluff #requests are open

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thirsty-flygirl · 2 years

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Do Better

Steve Murphy x f!Reader

About 2800 words. Not proofed or Beta-read. Good luck.

I don't know what happened here. I haven't written anything for months, this was sitting in my WIPs and I just decided to finish it.

Contrary to what this suggests, I am NOT a Steve Murphy girl. Javier Peña for life. But if Steve showed up, I probably wouldn't kick him out of bed. Not surprised, just disappointed.

OVER 18 ONLY! Warnings: oral (m and f receiving), PIV- no protection (use a condom, kids), slight degradation, Steve being a southern boy with an attitude, some language, a Reader much sexier and confident than I could ever be, my overuse of commas and italics.

“Just this once,” you panted, the pair of you stumbling through your doorway.

“Never again,” Steve agreed, his hot breath fanning across your skin as his mouth traversed the column of your throat. You moaned in response, tilting your head so he could have better access, and let his strong hands push you back against the door until it closed.

“Fuck, you smell good,” he muttered, letting his nose trail across your collarbone, “always smell so fuckin’ good.”

He pressed his thigh between your legs and you eagerly rolled your hips against the strong muscle, the seam of your jeans rubbing against your clit and stoking the flames of arousal in your belly.

“I should, it’s expensive,” you moaned, dropping down over, and over, and over to feel the delicious friction against your folds.

Steve huffed out a laugh, pressing his hot mouth against the swell of your tits as his hands came up to grope you through your blouse.

“Such a fuckin’ smartass, always runnin’ your mouth,” he emphasized his words by roughly squeezing your nipples between his fingers. You cried out and rutted harder against his thigh, feeling your slick dampen your panties. Steve groaned his approval and pressed against you harder.

“That’s right, baby, rub that sweet pussy on me...get you nice and wet so I can just slide right in.”

Reached up, you grabbed a fistful of blond hair and jerked his head up, slanting your mouth over his in a bruising, sloppy kiss. He growled, urging you on, and you let your tongue tangle roughly with his for a moment before pulling back and nipping at his pouty bottom lip.

“Let me show you what else I can do with my mouth,” you purred, dropping down to your knees right there in your entryway. You made quick work of his belt, palming him through the rough denim and squeezing lightly.

“Well, fuck, Murph,” you laughed lightly, “looks like you’re finally happy to see me for once.”

He braced himself against the door with one hand, dropping his head to look down at you like an angel just before the fall.

“Quit talking and just suck my dick, honey,” he rasped, reaching with his other hand to rest on the back of your head.

You grinned and pulled him from his boxers, long and thick, ruddy tip weeping. Letting your tongue dart out to swipe against the tempting swirl of precum, you moaned lowly in the back of your throat before wrapping your lips around his shaft.

Bobbing along Steve’s length, you used one hand to stroke whatever wasn’t buried in your mouth, listening to his gasps and growls in order to guide your movements. You let your tongue laze against his frenulum, slowly running it back and forth and driving him insane.

“Not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” he gritted out, his fingers knotting in your hair and urging you forward. You let him guide you, hollowing out your cheeks as he pumped his cock into your hot, eager mouth, trying to take as much of him as possible on each pass.

Your own arousal roared within you, pussy fluttering at the thought of finally getting him between your legs. Your panties were completely soaked, your position at Steve’s feet with your knees tucked together making them bunch up against your clit. You writhed around, trying to find that same sweet friction that you had on his leg, but you needed more, more of the man gazing down at you, like a merciful god absolving you of all your sins.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his eyes shining appreciatively in the dim light. “Such a good girl, gettin’ down on your knees for me. Taking that cock so well…..”

His praise made you blossom, your eyes wide and acquiescent, lifting up to meet his. You whimpered around his length, moving your hand faster, bobbing enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” he continued, nodding his head as he watched his dick disappear between your plump lips, “you like gettin’ your pretty face fucked, don’t ya?” You moaned in return, your eyelashes fluttering as his words alone made you soar.

Steve smirked crookedly down at you. “Looks like someone enjoys being on their knees for me . . . you like me using you like a whore?”

Fuck, he’d found your weakness without even trying. As assertive and confident you were in your professional life, there was something about being on your knees in front of a sexy man and letting him just control you, defile you, just absolutely fucking use you that made your cunt throb.

“Get up here, honey,” Steve ordered, pulling you up against his body, cock hard against your stomach, and taking your mouth roughly. He gripped your chin tightly as he kissed you, the sharp bite of pain making you moan wantonly.

He tore his mouth from yours, panting as he pressed his forehead against your temple. “Bedroom, now,” he demanded. You slipped past him, leading him down the short hallway and into your room. He grabbed you the moment you crossed the threshold, twirling you in his arms and walking you backward to the bed.

“Let me see those tits,” he ordered, his deep voice hoarse with lust. You met his eyes and began unbuttoning your blouse, watching his pupils dilate as you exposed the lace of your bra. “Yeah, that’s it.” He reached out and ran his thumbs over your nipples, admiring them as they hardened under his touch. “So pretty,” he mumbled, tweaking them until they ached.

You whimpered, arching your back and thrusting your chest further into his warm hands. “Steve, please,” you begged, letting your head loll back, “please fuck me.”

That deep, cocky chuckle rumbled through his chest as he regarded you. “Damn, honey, you do know how to make a man feel good. Let me take care of you.”

Steve slipped his hands behind your back, deftly unhooking your bra and letting it drop down to the floor, forgotten. He bent his head to lick at one perfect nipple, rolling his tongue around the bud until it tightened, then sucking it sharply into his mouth. His other hand drifted down between your thighs, rubbing unceremoniously against the thick seam of your jeans with his long fingers.

“I can feel you,” he mumbled against your breast, “soaking fuckin’ wet.”

His words thrummed through you like live wires dancing across your skin. You felt absolutely electric, overstimulated, nerve endings sizzling wherever Steve touched you. Keening, you bucked against his hand, letting a breathless whisper tumble from your lips.

“‘S’all for you, Steve, my pussy’s ready just for you.”

Your filthy words spurred him on, a low, gritty laugh escaping him as he shoved you gently back on to your bed.

“God damn, honey, keep talkin’ like that and I’ll fuckin’ blow my load all over those beautiful tits.” He crawled over you, hovering there while he slowly unfastened your jeans and slid them down your legs, leaving you nearly bare in your bra and panties. Once he had you where he wanted you, he leaned back on his heels, running a hand appreciatively down your body.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re gorgeous?”

You arched into his touch, his long fingers tracing over your throat, your breasts, your stomach, finally to the ache between your legs, where he dipped them under the elastic of your panties to tease at your heated folds.

“That’s right baby, you are drenched, aren’t you?” His voice was soft, intimate, but his tone was rough with need. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, meeting his icy-blue gaze and nodding as touched you. “Yeah,” he continued, a smirk sliding across his lips, “that pussy’s all mine tonight, isn’t it? You gonna let me do whatever I want to you?”

“Yes,” you moaned, arching into his touch, urging his fingers to slip inside your soaked cunt. Steve obliged, sliding them inside you and curling them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made your pussy clench.

“God, that’s nice,” Steve murmured absently, staring down at the spot where his fingers disappeared inside you, “you got such a pretty pussy, honey. I bet it tastes sweet, too.”

He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean while you watched, his tongue dancing over the digits. You felt like you would burn up at the sight, right there in your bed, the flames of your raging fucking need for your partner to just fuck you, torching you right where you lay.

“God damn, I was right,” Steve smiled at you when your essence was cleaned from his hand. “Now I’m gonna eat that pussy while you lay there for me, okay? You gonna be my good little whore and cum on my fuckin’ tongue?”

You whined in response, writhing your hips involuntarily, seeking out the friction you needed. Steve placed a large palm against you, fingers splayed against the softness of your lower belly while his palm pressed firmly on your clit. A whine left your throat at his touch.

“Fuck me, honey,” he swore, “those pretty sounds make me want to get inside you.” Looking down at his hand, he contemplated his next move while you waited breathlessly. His eyes flicked up to yours, pupils blown out in anticipation. You let your hand drift to his lap, once again roughly massaging his dick through his jeans and feeling a victorious surge of arousal when his own groan cut through the silence, long and low and deep.

In a flash, Steve moved away from you to stand next to the bed, tearing off his pants and boxers to reveal his cock bobbing proudly against his lower abdomen. The slick spot of precum trailing from the tip had you licking your lips hungrily; as much as you wanted him buried deep inside your pussy, you’d take him down your throat again, too.

“You’re gonna have to wait,” he warned, dropping to his knees and pulling you to the edge, “I’ve been thinking about gettin’ my mouth on this pussy for months.”

With that, he dove in, licking a long, hot stripe from your soaking folds to your clit, then again and again, urging you toward your release. His tongue pressed just right against you, earning cries and moans that spurred him on more.

“God, you taste good,” Steve mumbled against your skin, alternating long and slow licks with quick flicks of his tongues, praise and filthy declarations falling from his lips as he worked you.

“That’s right, honey, you’re such a good girl, lettin’ me taste you like this.” He wrapped his lips around your clit for effect and sucked lightly, the sensation nearly sending your body off the bed in blinding ecstasy. “Yeah, that’s right,” he whispered against your swollen bud, “you’re gonna cum for me right? Right here in my mouth? ‘Cause I’d sure like to drink you up . . .”

He returned to sucking you, applying just the right amount of pressure to get you off, and slid three fingers into your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, Steve!” you cried, arching your back off the bed. You heard his low laugh from between your legs.

“You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you, honey?”

“Mmmhmmm.” You were beyond words now, unable to form a coherent response at the onslaught of Steve’s mouth and fingers working you. His tongue was magical, sucking and licking you just right, as if he somehow knew exactly how to get you to shatter. You felt that sweet, electric heat start to spiral right from your pussy throughout your body, your limbs growing tense at your nearing release.

“Fuck, Steve - fuck - right there, yes,” you babbled, words tumbling from your lips as your climax roared through you. You cried out, again, over and over, relishing the feeling of your lips circling the sound of his name, and he stayed with you through it all, licking and moaning as you flooded his senses with your delicious orgasm.

Steve pressed his face against you, lapping your cum as it trickled over his fingers. It was almost enough to make him cum, right there between your legs, his mustache and chin drenched.

“My god,” Steve uttered once you had come down from your high, trailing his tongue lazily up your slit again to capture anything he’d missed, “you taste better than I could have imagined, honey.” He pressed a kiss against your inner thigh before rising from the floor and flopping beside you on the bed.

“C’mere,” he pulled you over to roll on top of him, watching you with hungry eyes as you settled your still-aching core over his pulsing cock. “You’re beautiful,” he said, almost reverently, reaching up to brush a thumb over your nipple. Smiling bashfully, you rolled your hips slowly against his cock, the tip nudging your entrance on each pass.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered down at him, smiling softly at the glazed, sexed-out look in his eyes.

“Nothin’ I want more,” he smirked, guiding you up so that he could hold himself in place, a low groan escaping him as your pussy swallowed his dick inch by inch.

“Fuck, honey.”

You began to move, slowly, your pussy clenching against him on every stroke. He felt better than you thought possible, like you were made just to take him like this.

“Steve,” you whimpered, your pace quickening already, the sensation of him sliding over your g-spot bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me,” he urged his big hands resting against your hips, helping you move against him. Unable to express what you needed in words, you planted your hands against his chest and rolled your hips down roughly, taking him as deep as possible so that you could feel every delicious inch of him.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last long," Steve breathed, hips rising to meet yours. "So pretty, so perfect," he mumbled, "wanna just fuckin' make you feel good."

"God, you are," you sighed, bending over to kiss Steve softly. He responded eagerly, his mouth slanting against yours, tongues tangling languidly. You felt that fire building throughout your body and moved faster, harder, his hands gripping the flesh of your ass to help slam you down on his cock.

You sat up straight again, your fingers traveling down to where you were joined and rubbing tight circles on your clit. Steve watched, open-mouthed, as you helped him bring you to the brink.

"Touch that pussy, honey," he ground out, his own thrusts becoming sloppy. His balls tightened and he pushed his fingers against yours, both of you sliding through your slick to stimulate your clit. "Fuck, I'm gonna come soon," he growled, "need to you tell me where, pretty girl."

Your cunt clenched around Steve, your orgasm sparking down your spine, lightning heat growing low in your belly.

“FIll me up,” you managed to moan, bright white flashing behind your eyes as you came around his cock, hard, your release soaking the coarse blond curls beneath your pussy.

Steve groaned, his dick locked in your grip. He managed to thrust once more up into you before his own orgasm tore through him. Pressing you down against him in a bruising grip, Steve let your pussy milk his cock, jets of cum pulsing up into you.

He groaned through his release, a whine in the back of his throat sending you over the edge again. You whimpered, head thrown back, your fingers tangled with Steve’s where they clutched your hips.

Reaching up, Steve cupped the back of your head and brought you down to him in a searing kiss, your breasts pressed against the sheen of sweat coating his chest. His tongue twisted with yours, devouring your mouth possessively.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, honey,” he whispered roughly, breaking the kiss you rest his forehead against yours. Gently, he rolled you over so that you were tucked under him, his cock still seated deep inside of you. He kissed you again, deeply, sweetly, his hand coming down to cup your cheek.

Despite being bone-tired, you responded eagerly, letting your own fingers twist in his hair. Your cunt clenched around his length, now hardening again. Rolling your hips experimentally, you broke away and grinned up at him.

“You wanna try again?”

Steve smirked above you, a roll of his blue eyes making you giggle. “You just don’t know when to fuckin’ stop, do you?” His forearms rested on either side of your head, his mouth hovering over yours.

“I thought you said ‘just this once,’” Steve teased, his lips brushing against yours.

Your stomach gave an odd flip as you looked up at him, that cocky smile lighting up something warm inside you. Offering a little shrug, you responded with a smile.

“I just think you can do better.”

#steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #steve murphy x you #boyd holbrook

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ilovewhiteroses · 11 months

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Beautiful Stranger

Pairing: The Corinthian x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff, smut Warnings: Unprotected sex Rating: +18

You met a handsome stranger while shopping for clothes. You were sorry you didn’t get to spend more time wit him, until a few days later when you met him again…

"Look, here is a fortune-teller! Let's go, I want to know my future and I bet you want to know yours too!" said your colleague enthusiastically. It was Friday afternoon, you had already finished work and you went out for a drink with her, and on the way home she noticed the fortune teller. You didn't believe in such a thing, but you thought it was a good joke, so you went in.

The fortune teller lady told good things to your colleague, who was very enthusiastic about them, and then turned to you.

"Tell me dear, would you like to see your future?"

You thought of asking the lottery numbers as a joke, but if the woman was actually capable of looking into the future, she would probably spend her days in a luxury villa instead of telling people what will happen to them. You asked her a simpler question.

"Um, will any excitement get to me lately?" you asked, then got a little unsure when your colleague looked at you with a questioning look. Your life wasn't very exciting, your last exciting adventure was when you got stuck in the elevator at work for an hour.

The lady looked into her crystal ball and said.

"I see someone…a tall, blond, stylish man."

"That sounds good!" your colleague said and squeezed your hand excitedly.

"You will meet him soon, but how things turn out is up to you." she said. You smiled in understanding and laughed to yourself. If only it was that easy!

You paid the woman, then you accompanied your colleague home and you went home too. You thought about what the lady told you while getting ready for bed. What if she was right and a hot guy really came into your life? However, anything could happen, you said to yourself.

The next day you went to the mall to look for an elegant outfit for next week's company dinner. There will be many wealthy and influential people, so you will have to look amazing. You went into one of the popular stores, where there were clothes of different patterns and sizes, so much so that one day would not have been enough to look through everything. The saleswoman approached you to see if she could help you, but you didn't need her. You found a nice black blazer, but it wasn't good enough, then you came across a dark blue sweater.

Ah, somehow that's not good either, you thought to yourself.

You didn't want to believe that you wouldn't be able to find something for yourself from such a large selection. As you were about to leave the store to go to another, you heard a man's voice.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" he asked and you turned around. "I see you are selecting and I thought I would ask if I could help." he said politely, with a pleasant southern accent. The way you looked at him, it was like you had seen him somewhere before. He was tall, blond, wore round black sunglasses and a long, dark coat.

Of course! It dawned on you what the fortune teller had predicted: that you would meet a man who looked just like that. Before you acknowledged the lady’s powers of clairvoyance, you reassured yourself that it must be a coincidence.

"Oh, thank you. You know, I'm invited to an event where there will be a lot of rich folks, so I'd like to buy something similar in style like that for myself."

"I see." the man nodded. "Well, I usually wear pastel colors or black, you can't go wrong with them."

"Okay. Hey, look!” you said walking over to the jumpsuits and taking out a black and white one. "For example, how about this?" you asked holding it up for him to see. The man's disdainful gaze almost shone through the lens of his sunglasses.

"That outfit would be great… for a Sunday brunch."

"Then it's not good." you said a little disappointed.

"I didn't say it was bad, just not for the occasion you need it for, and you wouldn't be able to use the toilet properly in it either. Oh, I have something much better, stay here, I'll be right back.” the man left you there. You couldn't imagine what he would come back with.

"Here I am!" he said showing you a pair of black suit pants and a light blue button up shirt. "I think they will be perfect together. Add an elegant pair of shoes, bracelet or a necklace, and you're good to go!"

You stared at the two pieces of clothing for a while, then took them from him and went into the fitting room. After a few minutes you came out to show yourself.

"Well, what do you think?" you asked as he whistled and clapped his hands together excitedly.

"Wow, look at that that! Amazing, you look fantastic in it!” said the man, smiling, enthusiastically. You were usually wary of strangers, but there was something about him that you find very attractive. From the set he chose for you, it seemed like he had a sophisticated style, and it really looked good on you.

You went back to the booth to change your clothes and went to the cashier to pay. The man also went with you, although in the end he didn't buy anything. You left the store and thanked him before saying goodbye.

"I am very grateful for the help, it was very kind of you!"

"Oh, it was nothing, really." he said with a nice smile and pushed the sunglasses up his nose. "I'm glad I could help. Enjoy yourself at the event!”

"Thank you, I will. Bye!" with that, you said goodbye to each other, and then both of you continued in the opposite direction.

The day of the dinner you've been waiting for has arrived. Not only because if you schmooze skillfully, even a promotion might get to you, but because you couldn't wait to wear the new outfit that the kind stranger helped you choose.

After dinner, you chatted with your coworkers and the other guests, and when you had a few free minutes, you were thinking about the handsome man from the clothing store. You remembered his sweet smile, his nice scent, and how excited he was when you liked the set he put together. He was a very handsome guy, you had to admit it and you were a little sorry that you didn't talk to him more, because maybe if you had invited him, he would have come with you to the dinner.

A few days later, you went to a bookstore because you wanted something new to read. Last time you read a crime novel, but this time you wanted something more creepy, so you headed for the horror section.

You looked at the titles and covers and spotted a book that looked interesting. You were about to reach out to take it off the shelf when your hand collided with someone’s.

It was the blond man from the clothing store...

"Ah, hello! Nice to see you again!” he said with great enthusiasm. You were surprised that he remembered you.

"I can say the same! Um, do you come here often?” in your confusion, you suddenly couldn't think of a better question.

"Not really, this is my second time here. I rarely read books, but when I do, it's something spooky. And you?”

"Me too." you replied, trying not to grin and act like an idiot around him. You were able to get a better look at him this time. He looked so good, no wonder you had trouble concentrating…

After some chatting and looking around, you decided on a recently released horror novel, he didn’t find anything interesting for himself. After paying, you left the store together. You quickly managed to catch a taxi and when you almost got in, you thought, now you won't miss the opportunity and turned to the man.

"Hey, get in, we'll take you too!"

He hesitated for a while.

"You sure? Is that okay?”

"Of course! Get in!” the blond with sunglasses sat next to you. You gave the taxi driver your address, then asked your fellow passenger if it would be good for him. He had no objections to it, he said he has business to do around there anyway.

The taxi started and you just sat next to each other, you didn't talk, you were like, there's nothing to talk about. As time passed, you had the feeling that the air between you was getting hotter, the sexual tension was growing...

Your hand rested on the seat beside you. At one point, your little fingers touched and you looked at each other. You were sorry. that you can't see his eyes. You would have liked to reach over to take off his sunglasses... You were embarrassed and excited at the same time, you even rolled down the window a little.

When the taxi dropped you off at your apartment and you saw that the blond man wasn't in a hurry yet, you asked him if he wanted to come in with you.

"Oh, well, thank you very much!" he said with a slight smile and you let yourself in. As soon as you dropped your keys in the bowl, suddenly something happened that you didn't expect at all: he pulled you close and kissed you without any warning. You were so shocked by this that you didn't know whether to slap him or continue kissing him.

"What the hell was that?" you asked, somewhat upset.

"Don’t play games with me, I know this is what you wanted! As soon as I saw you for the first time, I felt that there was something in you, something mysterious and sexy. If there weren't many people, I would have done the same thing right then, right there, in the fitting room." you were so turned on that you wanted to drag him to your bedroom. You kissed him back and you both leaned against the wall. You continued to kiss wildly, passionately, then he leaned down, kissing your neck. You gently grabbed his hair and sank into his sensual kisses. He stopped and turned you around so you were facing the wall, supporting yourself with your palms. He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off you, then pulled down his too, you felt his hard dick on your bare butt. He reached down to your intimate parts and started stroking you.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it? Are you enjoying it? Most definitely, because otherwise you would have stopped me.” He was right. You wanted everything but him to stop. In fact, you wanted more.

You let his hand turn you on even more than you already were. When he felt you were ready, he took his hand and spat into his palm, then smeared it on his cock so he could penetrate in to you better. He grabbed your hip with his other hand and pulled you towards him so that your butt was as close to him as possible. He whispered into your ear.

"Are you ready?" he asked in a husky voice, you nodded. He took his cock and thrust it into you, you moaned lustfully at the feeling as he filled you. He grabbed your hips with both hands and started moving slowly, then as he felt you getting used to his size, he got faster and faster, and soon you were moving at the same time. While fucking, you felt that all thoughts left your head and you only focused on the passion he gave you. When you were close to orgasm, you thought your legs going to give out. In the moment of pleasure, he buried his face in your neck, you bit your lip, and then you let the orgasm take you….

After you both calmed down, he pulled himself out of you and you went with him to your bathroom to clean yourself up. The man thanked you for the pleasant afternoon and kissed you, then said goodbye and left. You were still under the influence of the hot sex, but a few minutes later you realized something: you didn't even introduce yourself to each other, you didn't know the man's name the whole time. Although you two probably won't meet again anyway, you didn't really mind, in fact it was even more exciting and sexy that you were with a beautiful stranger.

Tags: @i-like-the-eyes, @spider-bren, @placeinthemiddleofnowhere, @merryandrewsworld, @duncans-vizla-honeybee, @boydholbrook-fan, @jessamydreams, @e-dubbc11, @harlekin6

@destiny-rahl, @drowningnikki,

@mirandkimy, @translat0r

@delicateteenagerunaway, @imjustmessy, @zealoussaladsublime,

@lilithsdreams, @cloudsofcondensation, @blondehotbrook,

@enkelimoonstone, @bakerstreethound, @amidalasruby, @kittycat-kai,

@hopeless-07, @miss-wednesday98, @littlewierdalien, @littlefoxgirl-13,

@dahlinq @dayleis, @idealai

@icytrickster17, @belladiaz, @smileymissbee

@foodlover123456789, @lazy-queen26, @yellowwithalisp,

@onehundredyearsofyearning, @constantron, @violentviolet88,

@strudelbug07, @underwater-garden

#the corinthian #the sandman #boyd holbrook #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian fanfic

83 notes · View notes

garbinge · 2 months

Text

Cal & Sylv's Story

Cal x OC Sylvie Hawke

Summary: Cal & Sylvie's Love Story.

Word Count: 5k

A/N: I pulled lyrics from two songs here as songs the OC sings because I felt the lyrics really speak to her story. (July - Noah Cyrus // Lavender Haze - Taylor Swift Acoustic Version). Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Light angst, attitude, rudeness, light fluff. Grumpy/Sunshine-esque.

All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

“I just need someone to help me get it started!” The voice echoed throughout the auto body shop, pretty much disrupting everyone from their work. Through the corner bay she was working in, Sylvie looked up and saw the man. He was tall, had a headband placed over his messy blond bedhead but it was tucked back just enough to see a dangling solo earring from his ear. It was very obvious he was annoyed and waiting for someone to answer him at the front desk of the shop. She laughed to herself and turned her speaker up a bit more, not enough that anyone would notice but enough that the voices would be tuned out. It didn’t take long for the owner of the shop, Rod, who was a relatively big guy, to come out and quiet down the man who she believed went by Cal by the sound of things. Rod seemed to be familiar with Cal, he told him to calm down and had no problem offering himself to start the bike that had millions of modifications and needed a heavy foot to start it. When Cal had rolled it out of his truck bed a few minutes prior to him entering the shop, Syvlie had taken a quick glance at it and noticed immediately that it wasn’t stock in the slightest.

She had moved from the bay she rented and into the community kitchen to grab herself a pop and make her way to the lot to see what was going to unfold. It wasn’t her thought alone, the whole lot of employees along with a good majority of customers from the shop had made their way out there too, eager to see how the events of starting this bike would unfold but also admiring the bike

Cal was impatiently waiting for Rod to make his way from behind the cashier counter and was on his heels when he finally did. Eagerly he turned to the lot but took a couple steps back when his eye caught a bike in an empty bay that looked like it was being worked on. He took a few steps closer, his hands leaning against the window glass to get a better look at it. The smile grew on his face before his name was being called from outside.

The audience wasn’t small, even those who neighbored the shop had heard the commotion and gathered to see what was going to happen. Was the bike going to stall out? Was it just one big hunk of junk? Or did this guy actually have some credibility to him? Rod stepped on the clutch and it turned over immediately sending the roar of the engine throughout the lot mixed in with the cheers as well. Sylvie managed a small chuckle over the top of her soda can before turning back into the shop to grab her things and head home for the day.

As she locked up her bay, she noticed most of the guys were still outside surrounding the modded bike and it was obvious the rest of the work day was going to shit from the distraction.

“Peace out, Sylvie.” Rod called out as he looked up from the front desk and caused her to turn around and give a polite nod.

“Have a good night, Rod.” She slightly lifted her hand to give him the peace sign while adjusting her bag over her shoulder. The grease from her bike still stuck in the lines of her palms and the beds of her fingernails.

“Yea, gonna be here late because these idiots have never seen a fully custom build.” He was teasing even though there was definitely truth behind it. This was one of the very few shops that had specialized in bikes in the area, so the few that did come in were pretty fresh off the dealership lot and looking for basic maintenance to be done to them. “You oughta open your bay up to them once in a while, show ‘em what you’re workin’ on, maybe then when people come in with shit like that, my boys won’t need their jaws scraped off the ground.” He was now closing out the register, counting bills as he finished speaking.

“Ain’t my fault you don’t teach your guys how to look and not touch.” Her eyebrows raised and her arms folded across her chest as the smallest glimmer of a smirk filled her face. She knew the exact reason down to date and time of why she started closing her bay doors and locking it up when she wasn’t here.

“Ahhh yea, it was Derek that accidentally pulled the kickstand down, right?” He laughed as he shook his head, knowing despite his employees being good mechanics, they sometimes didn’t have the brightest brains.

“Wrecked the whole left side of my shit. Added an extra month to my time here.” The thought of what happened about 4 months ago started to bring that rage back slightly. The marks on the side of the body work, the bent metal from the pieces you had ordered in from out of state, even out of the country, not to mention the rent alone of the bay.

“A month you made him pay for if I remember.” Rod was now locking up the register and leaning against the counter as he looked at the girl.

“Fair’s fair.” She shrugged remembering how she threatened to break into his bay at night and steal his shit and sell it so she could pay for the rent herself or he could just take a percentage out of his paycheck and give it to Rod directly.

“It’s looking good though, got a look when you popped out earlier.” His arms were crossed now too, along with one of his legs twisted over the other as they chatted.

“Yea, just gotta find a couple more things before she’s done. Got my feelers out. I’ll find it soon enough.” She looked over her shoulder into the bay where the moon was now shining through the outside window and onto the bike she was chatting about, another shrug left her shoulders.

“You sure we don’t have what you need layin’ ‘round here? You can take whatever, just give me the heads up so I can mark it down on inventory.” He shrugged too, his was more in a nonchalant way compared to Sylvie’s avoidant one.

Rod was a good egg, as she so described it to her friends who’d always worry that she’d spend her time in mechanic shops and bars. He was older, middle-aged, had no kids, no wife, small one bedroom house with a big detached garage. This shop was his family, it was his wife, his kids, his heart and soul. And when he met people that shared that love, he was a little more inclined to open his heart up for them as well.

“‘Preciate it, Rod. I wish it was that easy, but I’m too fuckin’ specific with what I need. Looking for an air filter. Not stock, want one of those mushroom ones, black, but not so big and bulky, they make ‘em with a metal cap, they’re small, punchy.” Her hands were waving around as she explained the part. This side of Sylvie was rare to see, the side of her that got so detailed and carried away with every small thing she could with her bike. The excitement around what she needed, why she needed it and how it was going to perform was the opposite of her usual stand-offish tone. It helped that she was also usually overly nice to Rod, he wasn’t a dick like so many of the guys that loved to tease a girl who got her hands dirty.

“Know what you’re talking about, they’re new. Not a lot out there. I’ll put my feelers out too though.” Which coming from Rod, was a big deal. He knew a lot of people who knew a lot about cars and car parts.

Their conversation was cut off as the engine roar from outside filled the area again while a couple of the guys stood on the starter together to achieve the weight needed for it to kick over. Their laughs were almost louder than the engine.

Rod lifted his hand to use his thumb to point at the group outside as he pushed off the counter. “You better get out of here before this whole place turns into whatever the fuck this is.”

Within 20 minutes, Sylvie had left and the group from outside had dispersed. Cal came back in to thank Rod and drop him a couple bucks for his help. “You’re a great mechanic, Rod, you know that?” Cal was dropping the bills on the counter as he spoke.

“I don’t need to be reminded. Maybe you can just let my guys work for once instead of fuck off.” He was grabbing the bills and trying his best at a firm stare.

“They’ll get the message when you drop 2 hours from their checks this week, don’t worry.” Cal smirked and turned his head to see the bay he looked in before having its door locked and curtains drawn so the windows weren’t able to be peaked in anymore. “Hey, say, uh, whose bay is that?”

That made Rod laugh. “Noneya.”

“M’serious. Saw some decent work in their earlier, custom built Indian, right? ‘65?”

“‘64. And it ain’t decent. It’s damn near flawless.” Rod was shaking his head, not needing to see the bike to know what the year of the bike was and how perfect the build was too.

“Whoever it is must work after hours, looked like it’s damn near finished.” Cal was fishing for any information on the bike or bike owner that could help him sneak his way in to get a look.

“Sylvie don’t work here, just rentin’ the bay. Think she’s just lookin’ for one of those metal cap mushroom air filters to replace the stock one.”

“Sylvie knows her shit.” Cal stood impressed as he stared at the closed off bay again. They were standing in the middle of the shop now, the big main garage door being the only one open and the light on the outside of it being the only thing lighting up the space besides Rod’s desk lamp.

“Knows how to give you shit too, don’t even think about it. I’m warning you.” Rod pointed at him.

“Have a good night, Rod! Ain’t scared of ya!” Cal was turning to leave the auto body garage now, he gave a quick lazy salute with his hand tipping off his headband as he walked out and Rod had to laugh at his naivety.

Rod spoke under his breath through a smirk. “Ain’t me you gotta be warned about, Cal.”

__________

It was obvious from the lot being packed that the bar only a few blocks from Cal’s house was filled to the brim. It was his last stop before heading home. He could have dropped his bike off in his own driveway, but that’d be too much work, plus it didn’t matter about a packed lot much when you had a bike, one could squeeze into half a spot and it’d still be plenty of room. But Cal didn’t need to. He was able to pull in next to another motorcycle. A smile formed on his face as he looked over the bike. It was the one from the auto body shop a few weeks ago, but there was a stock air filter now on the bike. It was then that Cal frowned, still smiling as the thoughts filled his head before he made his way into the bar. Curiosity was all over his face as he entered, his eyes were scanning every inch of the bar, every face in the place.

“Next is a local favorite, Sylvie Hawke!” A voice in a microphone alerted Cal to look at the small corner stage in the front of the bar where he saw the curly haired wonder who went by the name Rod had mentioned.

A smile grew on his face as he found an open seat at a random table and sat down, oblivious to those around him confused why he was sitting there.

“Somethin’ I wrote called July.” Her voice was raspy but soft, the microphone felt like it was almost an intrusion on the beauty of it, at least that’s what Cal was thinking as she spoke. “Tips are not only appreciated but extremely encouraged and I’m working on getting the place to make ‘em required.” Sylvie was getting her acoustic guitar settled on her lap and situated on the stool as many in the crowd laughed at her joke but soon realized she wasn’t joking at all which made them laugh more. It worked though, because it did earn her a couple bills from some people immediately before even one string was strummed on her guitar.

Cal wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he could describe what he was feeling similar to shock as he heard the girl begin to strum the chords and sing. Her voice was even more beautifully raspy as she sung, it was unique but one that any music producer would love to have on their roster.

“Check it out, it’s the chick.” One of the guys sitting next to Cal elbowed the other across from him.

“That’s her?” The other man questioned.

“From what I’ve heard, she gets down. Real bitch, but–”

“SH.” Cal cut the guy off, rather loudly so there was no room for any misinterpretation of what he meant. His eyes were still glued to Sylvie, not even bothering to look at the low lifes at the table with him as Sylvie continued to sing the song.

Feels like a lifetimeJust trying to get by while we're dying insideI've done a lot of things wrongLoving you being oneBut I can't move on

Find someone that loves youBetter than I do, darling, I know'Cause you remind me every dayI'm not enough, but I still stay

It was then that Cal stood up, his chair screeching against the floor but it went unnoticed by most everyone in the bar due to the noise, the only people slightly observing him were the ones at his table that were more annoyed than concerned. He ran out of the bar, didn’t even bother grabbing his bike and just jogged the two blocks to his house. Within minutes he was inside his garage, looking around for something and when he found it, he audibly cheered and grabbed the black mushroom air filter, shoved it into the inside pocket of his patched jean vest and began his jog back to the bar pretty quickly.

Similarly to before, he searched around the bar for her. She must’ve only sung one song because someone else was up on stage now. As he scanned the room again, he found her, and he smiled so wide, his silver tooth was showing as he approached her.

“Hi.” He was still grinning as he spoke.

“Captain Morgan.” Her face was twisted in a funny smirk as she took in the tall blonde greeting him with a sarcastic tone behind her slight laugh.

Cal’s face dropped in confusion at that greeting. “Huh?” He was searching for some explanation.

“The silver tooth.” She pointed to her own mouth before pointing to his. “Pirate thing.”

“Oh,” He pointed to it as well and smiled even wider. “yea, I lost it ridin’ my scooter a couple years back.”

“Scooter?” Sylvie was looking at him but moved her head back to trying to push through to the bar.

“That’s what people call them out in California.” He shrugged, a chuckle coming from him before he took in the frustration of the girl trying to push through the crowd. “What’s your drink?” He leaned down to make sure the girl heard him.

“Just tryna get a beer.” The way she spoke was answering his question but in a way where she hoped he got she wanted nothing to do with him. Hell, she wasn’t even looking his direction as she spoke, just standing on her tip toes in hopes to make eye contact with the bartender.

“Pauly, let me get a brewski!” He called out over the crowd and within seconds, who Sylvie also knew to be Pauly was handing Cal a bottle of beer. She had performed here a good amount of times over the last weeks to get acquainted with the man tending bar but not enough to call out over a crowd of people to get his attention, let alone deliver on the request.

“Here, on me. You–uh, got a real talent.” His finger was pointing to the stage as he handed her the bottle.

“Look,” She stopped for a moment realizing that she didn’t know his name, “whatever your name is, I’m not really here for the small talk flirting and shit, I’m here to collect my tips, maybe try and grab another song slot and get the hell home.”

“Cal, my names Cal.” He was still cheery as he spoke, not taking defeat yet.

“Because you lived in California.” Despite the girl not wanting to be in this conversation didn’t mean she didn’t listen and pick up on things.

“Yea.” He smiled proudly at the fact and also because she had been listening to him. “I, uh, got something for you, remind you that you’re enough and stuff.” He referenced the lyrics of her song as he started to reach in his pocket before she spoke up again.

It was then that she immediately recognized him from the shop she rented the bay out of and she was even more eager to shut the conversation down. “Well, Cal. Thanks for listening, song wasn’t really about you, don’t think I’d ever write a song about you but, uh, great chatting. Thanks for the beer, I’ll let you have it back.” She handed the bottle back to him before squeezing by and finding a hole in the bar to talk to Pauly about cashing out her performance tips. Cal didn’t even get the air filter out of his pocket yet when the girl dismissed him.

Cal saw what Rod meant now but it didn’t matter because he was enamored by her. He didn’t even try and get her attention back, just took the bike part and slipped it in her open messenger bag that was on her shoulder as she pushed by him.

_______

“Where the fuck did I put it?” Sylvie mumbled under her breath as she searched for her keys. Her feet were moving down the stairs rapidly as she stressfully looked around. First her bedroom, now the small table near the door of her apartment, which was offering up nothing besides some empty gum wrappers and spare change. Now she was moving toward her messenger bag, the bag she’d bring to the shop and to the bar. It was unlikely it’d be there, she needed the keys to open her front door, she’d rarely ever put them back in her bag.

But alas. They were there.

“Found you.” She whispered again as she celebrated her win. Just as she was about to head out, she did a double take as she saw something deep and buried in her bag. Opening her bag a little wider to see something shiny, her hand dived in to grab it and pull it out. In her hands was a black metal cap mushroom air filter. The answers to her prayers if she was honest with herself, which she obviously wasn’t at this moment. The shock quickly faded to questions. Her mind started running, where on earth did this come from? She hadn’t been back to Rod’s shop in a while, considering all her searches came up empty for the very thing in her hand right now, the only logical explanation was that it was someone at the shop. But how could that be when she hadn’t been.

Suddenly it hit her.

Sylvie was out the door before the thought could even soak in for a second. It felt like without blinking she was in front of the bar, where she knew the Vandals hung out. The patch was something she remembered instantly as she realized who gave her the part.

Without hesitating, she pushed through the doors and froze as she entered the building. Some of the guys that turned to look at the commotion must’ve thought she was frozen in shock or nerves but in reality she was scanning the room for him. During her second look over the room is when she spotted him, only when a couple of the guys standing towards the back of the pool table moved to get a better angle of their shots is when she saw the messy haired blonde and his headband sitting at a table with a couple other Vandal guys.

“I thought I told you I didn’t need shit from you.” The words were spoken in pair with the slamming of the filter on the table. A couple of the guys jumped, not expecting such a bold, semi-aggressive move from anyone let alone this random woman.

Cal turned, already knowing who it was just from looking at the part. “I actually think you told me you’d never write a song about me.”

“Same shit.” She was letting go of the part now and standing firm in front of him, her arms crossed over her white tank top, the curls framed around her face were kinked in different directions from her ride over.

“Heard Rod mention you needed it, saw that you had the stock part on your bike at the bar and had one laying around.” He shrugged, his voice sounded like he was in a whole different conversation than Sylvie.

“Thanks but no thanks. Enjoy your–” Sylvie looked around and chuckled a little, “boys club.”

As she made her way out, her eyes fell on the bike that she knew had to be Cal’s. It was fully custom, had the same air filter she wanted and just slammed on the table but in blue. She pulled out her cigarette box from her front pocket and searched for a lighter but remembered it was likely in the bag that she left home in her urgent run out.

“Thought you’d be gone.” Cal was stepping out of The Stoplight, his voice just as calm as before.

“Bike ain’t fast enough with my stock intake, you’d have seen me stopped at the red light still.” Sylvie pulled the cigarette out of her mouth to speak.

“Can’t have that.” Cal was extending his hand out, his lighter flame flicked and Sylvie plopped the thing back in her mouth and leaned in to light her cigarette.

“Too embarrassing.” She inhaled the smoke as she stood back up straight.

The two stood silent, Cal lighting his own cigarette now as they stood nearly 6 feet from each other. One of them kicked their feet against the concrete sidewalk, the other awkwardly looked up at the sky. All until Sylvie broke the silence. “That one’s yours isn’t it.” She pointed with her cigarette.

“It is.” He nodded and grinned. Constantly grinning. That was what Sylvie was starting to realize about him.

“Different from the one you had at Rod’s.” She crossed her arms now, trying to hold back her own curiosity of a smile.

“I have a couple back at my barn.” Cal had turned to look at her now, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it to crush it against the concrete.

“You build on your own property?” This was probably one of the girl’s first real reactions, despite the angry burst in.

“I do.” He nodded, staring right at her.

She was shocked. Her apartment was tiny, while it had an upstairs, it was more of a loft than a true second floor. For Sylvie to work on her bike, she had to rent spaces, put a cone out on the side of her street, maybe take up two parking spaces, but never just have everything you could need in her backyard like that. She was in awe.

“I’m gonna go now.” She dropped her cigarette bud to the ground and slid her foot across it as well before pointing to her bike.

“Alright,” Cal nodded with that same grin again. “See you on the road.”

She was stepping over her bike now, kicking up the stand. “Until I find that mushroom filter.”

_________

“I’ll buy the filter off you.”

Cal dropped the wrench he had in his hand. “Jesus Christ.”

Sylvie was standing in front of him, at his barn, with her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans and looking relatively at ease in comparison to the times he’d seen her before.

“How’d you find where I live?” He was getting up from the milk crate he was sitting on and grabbing a towel to wipe the grease off on it even though it barely did its job.

“Rod’s got a big mouth.”

“‘Course he does.” He laughed and grabbed a cigarette and placed it in his mouth before offering the box to Sylvie who lifted her hand and shook her head.

“Just the part. What’ll you let it go for?”

Cal nodded and took his time lighting the cigarette before looking around the barn for the part. He clocked it, in one of his tool boxes sitting on a shelf. He started to think how he wanted this to go before turning back and speaking to the girl.

“I was givin’ it to you for free, you know.”

“Don’t like handouts.” There was the attitude he knew so well.

He nodded again. “Tell you what.” He scratched his head, his headband getting misadjusted as he did so. “The part’s yours, but you gotta work for it.”

“Work for it?”

“Could use a hand on this ol’ girl.” He pointed behind him at the half built chopper.

Sylvie stared at the bike for a good full minute before a slight nod escaped her.

“Deal.”

The rest was history. That was the moment that changed it all for both Cal and Sylvie. Eventually, Cal won the girl over. Despite Sylvie being a hard book to crack, Cal and her were pretty similar. Sure, Sylvie was full of attitude and spunk and Cal was goofy and grinny, but they both loved bikes, where they’d take them, and the inner workings of ‘em.

Cal brought her to The Stoplight, introduced her properly to all the guys, who fully understood why Cal was so taken by the woman, but she held her own with each one of them. It was one of the many things that made Cal really fall in love with her. He called her Sylvs, the rest of the guys did too, mimicking Cal, all but Johnny, who knew she wasn’t one to be fucked with and to him calling her by her full first name was his way of showing her that he respected her.

It had been just shy of a year since Cal had met the girl, and now he found himself in the same spot, the bar a couple blocks down from his place watching her perform. But this time, he wasn’t at a table with random men, most of the Vandals had come down and were taking up half the building space and running up their tabs.

“One of our lovely locals, singing an original song of her own, I’ll make her speech for her since we were ever so politely told by some lovely gentlemen and fans of the many talents that showcase here that we should make tips required, so we’ll be passing around the bucket, drop what you can.” The person introducing the performers spoke into the microphone. “Anyways, Sylvie Hawke, everybody!”

Sylvie came out and adjusted herself on the stool, there were already tons of cheers she knew came from The Vandals. She chuckled into the microphone, a new trait of hers that Cal should have taken all the credit for. “Not sure what my intro should be now that my tip speech is officially null and void. I guess uh, this is something I never thought I’d write but here we are. Enjoy.”

Starin' at the ceilin' with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

I find it dizzyingThey're bringin' up my historyBut you aren't even listening

I feel the lavender haze creepin' up on meSurreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

I just wanna stay in that lavender hazeThat lavender haze

One of the locals started whispering, near Johnny who was perched up by the bar.

“She’s a real bitch that one, real attitude on her.”

“Ey–uh, some of us, we’re–uh, tryna enjoy the song, maybe you guys can quiet down?” He waved his beer in the air dismissing them but they just looked and continued their gossip.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time, I said you guys should quiet the fuck down.” Johnny was leaning down now, still speaking at a whisper but his tone didn’t show that.

With that the men stopped talking and turned their attention to Sylvie who was finishing up her song. Cal was in the audience, grinning the entire song, enamored by the girl just as much as that first night he saw her in the same spot. He leaned over and whispered to Corky. “She wrote this one ‘bout me.”

Just as she strummed the last cords on her guitar, the bar broke out in cheers, again, mainly from The Vandals but what truly brought the smile on Sylvie’s face was when she found Cal in the crowd clapping so eagerly all while he was grinning from ear to ear and she could see that silver tooth shining in the dim lit bar lights.

#the bikeriders #The Bikeriders fanfic #The Bikeriders fanfiction #Cal #cal the bikeriders #Cal Boyd Holbrook #OC Sylvie #OC Sylvie Hawke

21 notes · View notes

honey-im-hotdog · 2 years

Text

Make Me Melt

Ty Shaw x reader

Author’s Note: Look this is short, I know. BUt there is nothing, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, for this man and I have to change that damnit! He deserves better, this sweet angel baby! I hope you enjoy!

As always, reader is supposed to be gn+vague, so if you catch any mistakes related to that please let me know.

Words: 0.7k

Warnings: pet names (baby, darlin’, and sweetheart); mention of cotton candy; the fair; earrings, but could be read as clip-ons or the pierced kind (and even then the type of earring isn’t specified); fluff, like too much. I think that’s all.

Summary: A little sweet moment between reader and Ty while they’re on a date at the fair.

Check out my other stuff :)

———————————

“Oh, look!” You grab Ty’s hand and start tugging him along, “C’mon, c'mon!”

He chuckles as you somewhat manhandle him to the booth with handcrafted jewelry. He seriously can’t get over how excited you are—how excited you’ve been all day, honestly. When he had first suggested going to the annual fair for a date, he hadn’t expected you to jump at the idea. And even then he had wrongfully assumed you two would mostly walk around, enjoying the colors and sounds and smells, and the joy radiating throughout the place. Maybe go on the ferris wheel, let him win some stuffed animal for you.

But oh boy, was he way off! If he had been any less enamored with you, he’d probably complain about his hand cramping from how tight you’d squeeze it in excitement. You had nearly bounced in your seat the whole way to the fair since he picked you up; and then squealed every time you saw something you wanted to check out. And to think that you hadn’t even made it to the cotton candy stall yet…

“Ooh. These are so beautiful!” Ty zones out as you converse with the girl manning the stall. He can’t take his eyes off you. The pure joy vibrating off of your body is enough to fill the place single-handedly. He finds the lights and colors reflecting in your wide eyes more beautiful than the actual thing. For the hundredth time that day, Ty asks himself, how did I get so lucky?

He zones back in when you let his hand go to pick up two earrings, one on the daintier side, and the other chunkier.

You hold each one up to your ears and look in the small mirror attached to the stall. “Hmm, they’re both so pretty. I don’t know,” you blink at your reflection. Turning to your boyfriend, you ask him what he thinks.

Ty’s first reaction is to giggle at how serious you look, but then he schools his expression into a faux serious one, with his lips pouting and brows furrowed. He lightly pinches your chin between his thumb and index finger, turning your face this way and that, as he hums. “I like this pair,” he indicates the ones in your right hand.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. Frames your face better,” he gives a too-serious nod.

You laugh and pivot back to the girl, handing over the pair he had picked out and putting the other one back. “How much?” you ask as you look down into your tote bag for your wallet. However, when you turn to hand over the money, you notice Ty having paid already.

When you whine out his name, he chuckles and replies with: “Lemme treat ya, baby.”

And god, does the way he says “baby” melt your insides.

Ty throws an arm around your shoulders as you both move on from the booth. You’re still admiring your newest purchase when you feel your boyfriend tug you to a stop. Looking up with a curious expression, you’re met with his brilliant smile.

“Well? C’mon, put ‘em on!”

You smile, a bit bemused, and shrug your shoulders up, “What, now?” He nods in response. You laugh a little as you reply, “Ty, I might need a mirror—”

Before you’re even finished with your sentence, he says, “‘s okay, you got me, darlin’,” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your hands, which had been holding up the earrings, fall down to your sides and your shoulders shag, mouth falling open slightly. His words melting you right into a puddle. You lean into him, hiding your face against him, and you whine out his name again, “You can’t just say things like that to me!”

His chuckle vibrates through his chest as he envelopes your shoulders underneath his arms, one hand cupping the back of your head and pulling you tighter into him. “Why not, baby?”

“Because you turn me into goo!” Your hands fist his shirt by his hips and tug him closer. “Stop making me fall deeper in love with you, Tyler!”

You feel his warm breath against your head as he nuzzles you, “No can do, sweetheart.”

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wardenparker · 2 years

Text

Small Towns and Second Chances

Steve Murphy x female reader Steel Magnolias AU Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16.9k Warnings: Mentions of divorce and incarceration, small town gossip dynamics, ‘exotic’ eats, generalized trash talking of Connecticut, reference to reader borrowing clothes from another character, alcohol consumption, references to drug use/addiction, references to previous unhappy/abusive marriage. Steve Murphy is packing I will not accept criticism, public nudity, skinny dipping, oral sex (f receiving), hair pulling, outdoor sex, water sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, public sex. Summary: Newly retired DEA Agent Steve Murphy returns to his hometown after being served with divorce papers upon his return from Colombia. Unfortunately, his first day back is also the day of his next door neighbor’s wedding. But fortunately - you are there, too. (Loosely follows the plot of the beginning of the film Steel Magnolias. But if you’ve never seen it, don’t worry!) Notes: Utter and total self-indulgence. I watched Steel Magnolias for the first time a while ago and Keri is a criminal enabler when it comes to all things fantasy related - so here we are! 😁❤

Nothing seems to have changed in Evangeline Parish. At least not that Steve can tell. Same storefronts as there had always been in Ville Platte when he had driven through, the windows rolled down and the sweet, slightly sickly scent of blooming flowers flowing through the cab along with the humidity. Same heavy sun beating down on the few that hadn't retreated to the shade while they tried to cool themselves down with whatever could be turned into a fan. Maybe it was insane to want to come back to Louisiana in spring, but after the past six years that he had – all he wanted to do was go home.

Home wasn't in Miami anymore. Maybe it would have been if there hadn't been a manilla envelope of divorce papers sitting on the coffee table when he had shown up at the apartment of his wife and daughter when he had been allowed to come back to the States. Maybe it would have been if the past two years in Colombia hadn't left an indelible mark on his very soul. But there had been, and it had, so he had taken the papers and the keys to the truck that Connie had been good enough to crank up once a week for him and shoved his bags into the passenger seat before he set out for home. Back to Chinquapin, Louisiana.

The screams, chaos, and gunshots coming out of the Eatenton house next door were the kind of cacophony that only a backyard Southern wedding could produce, and the army of different company trucks and employees racing around the property proved it. But the only scream he was looking out for – the best one of the whole batch – came from the twentysomething girl hanging out of the top floor bedroom right in the corner of the big, familiar, clean white house on the corner.

“Steve!” His little sister was hanging out so far that she was practically on the roof, waving frantically at the truck as she watched it pull into the driveway. By the time he parked, he wagered she would be downstairs ready to hug the life out of him. “Mama! Daddy! Steve’s home!”

"Tater!" He grins out the window of his truck as the exuberant expression on her face falls into a scowl that promises an elbow to the gut, and she throws him a rude gesture that would have Mama scolding her. Chuckling when she disappears out the window and he can hear the thundering of her feet down the steps. Another thing that hasn't changed.

“Three brothers and you’re the only one I like except for that dumb ass nickname.” His sister grumps, throwing herself off the stairs to ring her arms around his neck and hug him anyway.

“Tabitha Leigh Murphy, we do not swear in this house.” Their mother frowns in the mud room doorway, but only for effect. She’s overjoyed to have her sweetest tempered child home again, even if the circumstances are a little less than ideal. “Welcome home, sweetheart,” she murmurs, extending open arms to her son. “We missed you.”

"Thanks Ma." Steve wraps his mother up in his arms and sighs. She's shorter than he is, he has to bend down to press his face into her neck like he used to when he was little, but the scent of Revlon Charlie was a staple memory of his childhood. As much as he hates why he is here, he's happy to be home. He's missed the craziness. Flinching when another gunshot blast rings out. "Jesus fucking Christ!" He hisses, pulling away from his mama.

"What did I just say to your sister?" His mother scowls dramatically, smacking his arm before shaking her head. "You barely made it before Shelby Eatenton's wedding, Steven. Go shower and pull out one of those nice suits I know you have packed away. Your sister's got to get over to Miss Truvy's before Shelby and M'Lynn have their appointments. The way Drum Eatenton had been shooting away at the birds all morning it was a wonder that there were even any trees left.”

The way Tater is grinning at him makes him roll his eyes, reaching out and tugging on his sister's hair. "You can go get my bags out of the truck since I have to shower, Tater." He teases, turning and taking the stairs four at a time to get away from her swat.

"Hank!" No amount of scowls from their mother ever keeps the youngest Murphy sibling from hollering through the house, and it wouldn't right now, either. "Tyler! Mama says to come help unload Steve's shit from the truck!" There's work to be done and it can get done a hell of a lot faster if her brothers get involved. No way would she try to get Hank Murphy's precious, dainty wife to do anything helpful, but at least their sister-in-law was behaving herself today. There hadn't been any mean comments about Steve's divorce all morning.

Steve hears a shout from Hank but he doesn't pay much attention, walking down the hall and into the bedroom that hadn't changed since he had gone off to college. Through the door on the side to the Jack-and-Jill he had shared with his oldest brother until he had left for school three years before Steve had.

Piles of boxes are what are left for Steve around his room, and the unmistakable whiff of one of Tyler Murphy's stink bombs left behind as a welcome for his older brother. All four of the Murphy kids had grown up as close as they could, but that meant being as much each other's friendly adversaries as they were confidantes. It was a good way to grow up, even if the brothers had grown apart a little as they got older.

Sighing softly, Steve starts to strip down, knowing that his brothers will bring his bags in by the time he gets out of the shower. They might go through them to make fun of his clothes, but he doesn't give a shit about that.

******

Truvy's Beauty Spot has been a town institution for Tabitha Leigh's entire life, and Miss Truvy Jones herself was probably privy to every single up and down of the Murphy family's life the same way she was privy to everybody else's in town. She'd even dated Miss Truvy's son Louie in high school, for all the good in the world that that did her. Today she's excited, though. Shelby Eatenton was a sort of loose friend all through school just based on the fact that they were next door neighbors, and news of Steve’s arrival would surely be good gossip for Miss Truvy and the other ladies.

"Miss Truvy?" Tabitha Leigh sticks her head in the open door of the Jones house/salon. "I know I'm a little early, but I had to get away from all the chaos. Mr. Eatenton is trying to poke holes in every cloud over Louisiana."

Truvy turns and gives the younger woman a bright smile, her large blonde hair not swaying a bit under her eager nod of agreement. “Come on in honey, I’ll be happy to have the company.” She says.

"Steve's home!" She reports gleefully, galloping in the front door and dropping comfortably into the first styling chair she sees. "Mama's gonna make him come to Shelby's wedding whether he likes it or not and I finally have my favourite brother back again."

"Really?" Truvy’s brow arches and she pauses from tearing some foils for coloring to turn and look at the youngest Murphy child and only girl. "Just last week you were saying Tyler was your favorite because he brought you home a pint of rocky road ice cream."

"No, I said he saved himself from being my least favourite," Tabitha Leigh corrects matter-of-factly. "Now that's Hank, because his wife is a hateful little princess and I—" The only thing that could possibly cut off her diatribe about how much she dislikes her sister-in-law is the appearance of an unknown woman in the doorway, and Tabitha Leigh sits up in the chair with curiosity. "Well, hello. You're new."

"I...yeah. I'm new." Carrying the armful of towels that Miss Truvy asked you to fetch and fold from the dryer, you inch into the doorway and look to your new boss with what you're sure is the same expression that lost puppy dogs have. It is literally your first day of work at Truvy's Beauty Spot and you stumbled into the biggest wedding the town has seen all year. "Miss Truvy, where should I put these?"

"Right over here, honey." Truvy had known you were a timid thing, but she had hoped you would be comfortable around a bunch of women. "Open up that cabinet and just set them right inside. Show her, Tabitha Leigh."

"In here." Tabitha Leigh doesn't even look, just reaches behind her to open the cabinet above her head. "You Judy's replacement?" She asks, wondering how Miss Truvy could have gotten anyone in so fast. "Hell of a day for you to start."

"I'm starting to get that," you laugh quietly, more of a nervous titter that anything else. The other ladies who had started to materialize this morning were older than this young woman, but all of them seemed to be on the same level as far as gossip is concerned. That should make it pretty easy to learn about your new home, thank goodness.

"She'll get the hang of it." Truvy declares with confidence before she turns back to Tabitha Leigh. "So, tell me how Steve's doing?" She demands, turning to check that the curlers are plugged in for when Shelby gets here. "I saw his picture in the paper when the story broke."

"Mama and Daddy are just about as pleased as anything." Tabitha Leigh kicks her feet up on the nearest bit of empty table and leans back comfortably. "He went to Washington and got all kinds of congratulations and even met the president. But..." she glances around, conspiracy written all over her face as the other ladies lean in like moths being beckoned to a flame. "Connie served him with divorce papers as soon as he got back to Miami. So now he's home again, and good riddance to her." Tabitha Leigh may not have exactly disliked Steve's wife, but she and Connie were both strong minded women who didn't quite get along. Now it seemed like the woman had never appreciated her fantastic brother for everything he was worth in the first place, so why bother?

Truvy tuts and shakes her head. "Don't know why she would want to do a fool thing like that." She huffs. "That boy is as handsome as homemade sin."

"Which is much better than store bought sin," Clairee chimes in, shaking a little as she laughs. "I guess we'll all have to dote on Agent Steven Murphy a little at the wedding so he doesn't get glum about things."

"Agent Steven Murphy...like the man in the papers and on tv?" Your head tilts as it pops up from where you were starting to set Miss Clairee's hair in curlers. "The man that caught Pablo Escobar is your brother?"

Tabitha Leigh beams proudly. "Sure is." She hasn't had anyone new in town to tell about her fantastic big brother in ages. "He has some stories to tell and honestly? I couldn't be more proud of him."

"Shit." The mild curse is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, but a second later your eyes are wide and you're grimacing in your new boss's direction. "I mean shoot. Sorry, Miss Truvy. I just...that's so cool!" You would much rather hear other people's stories than tell your own – having nothing but rough or boring tales to tell of your own life until now. And no one likes to be sad on a wedding day. Any wedding day.

Tabitha Leigh nods in agreement and opens her mouth to talk about her darling big brother some more but Shelby walks in and the women start to crowd around her, asking her questions for a few minutes before Truvy shoos them away and settles the bride into her own chair. "Now, you aren't getting cold feet now, are you honey?" She asks Shelby teasingly, the woman being a few minutes late for her appointment.

"My brothers hid my shoes." Shelby groans, shooting a grin at Tabitha Leigh. No one knows the trials and tribulations of too many brothers the way they do. "So Mama walloped them, which was the highlight of my morning besides the bubble bath."

Truvy laughs and shakes her head. "Boys will be boys." She hums. "And mama's will whoop them." She thinks about her own son. "I walloped mine plenty of times for pulling pranks."

"And who is this?" M'Lynn Eatenton asks in between laughing with the rest of them, gesturing much more gently to you than the other women had.

"The new Judy." Clairee offers you a smile as you set the last curler in her hair. "Although our new friend has a much gentler touch, thank goodness. We've just been acquainting her with all our town news while we get ready for Shelby's big day."

Tabitha Leigh grins and gives you a small shrug. "We aren't always this crazy." She promises with a chuckle.

"Oh, don't lie to the girl," Truvy jokes, picking up a brush and setting to work on Shelby's fantastical updo. "We most certainly are always like this. It's part of our charm to be gossips and secret sharers."

"Well, I'm a veritable vault," you promise, offering the ladies a smile. "All the people I've met so far are the people in this room, so there's no one for me to hear gossip from but you all."

"You should come." Shelby says suddenly, turning to her mama to make sure that she approves. She's not the one who has dealt with the caterer, M'Lynn has. "To my wedding. It'll be a perfect time to meet people."

"Oh, I don't want to impose." The suggestion makes you recoil slightly, looking down at the bride's mother as if she might flinch or roll her eyes or something equally disapproving. "I—I mean that's very kind of you, of course. But I'm not sure I would have anything to wear." It's the best excuse you can come up with at such short notice, not wanting to tell the kind ladies the actual reason that you have no desire to go anywhere near a wedding right now. That would make you the object of plenty of gossip yourself, and the reason you picked up and moved somewhere entirely different was to stop being gossiped about.

"No, you should!" Truvy eyes you up and down and shakes her head. "I'm sure I have a dress that you can borrow."

Shit. Holding in the fact that you feel like a deer caught in the headlights of these ladies' massive car, you plaster a sweet smile on your face and nod. "Well...alright then. If you're sure." You'll go for just a little while, say hello, and then disappear. That will be the best way, you decide. "I'm sure it will be beautiful."

"Of course it will be." Shelby giggles happily as only a blushing bride can. "I'm marrying the perfect man." Her happy grin is soft and every woman sighs slightly, remembering their own weddings.

"It'll be beautiful, darlin," Truvy coos as she works on Shelby's hair. "You're gonna be just the most beautiful bride in the whole world, and you'll never, ever forget your day." She grins salaciously. "Or tonight, if Jackson does his job right."

The hoots and catcalls ring out in the room and Tabitha Leigh grins at the slightly uncomfortable look on M'Lynn's face at the idea of her baby doing that. "Who says he's not already done that job?" She asks, winking at Shelby.

"Did a little bit of it down at the lake after the rehearsal supper last night," Shelby grins, cheeks pink with the admission as the other ladies hoot and holler. For your part, you keep your head down and focus on your task, leaving them to their chatter. Weddings aren't exactly your favourite thing in the world, but Shelby Eatenton seems sweet, and she seems genuinely happy. For her sake, you just hope things stay that way.

“Shelby!” M’Lynn shakes her head at her daughter and gives a small laugh. She can’t blame her; she was the same way the night before her own wedding. “You just wait until you get to the hotel in New Orleans tonight, ya hear?” She warns her playfully. “No coat closets.”

"Alright, mama." Shelby grins, making dubious eye contact with Truvy in the mirror that makes both women snicker playfully. "Cross my heart."

******

Steve was used to being in a suit, he spent plenty of time in them at the Embassy. Stiff, he shuffles slightly in place and looks around, trying to ignore the looks of pity he’s receiving.

You've stayed on the outskirts of things, not getting in the way and simply waving hello to Shelby after you and Miss Truvy arrived to the Eatenton house from the church for the reception. Your boss had found something deep in her closet that you could actually manage to wear and kept you at her side in the church, but now that it's time for a party Miss Truvy seems to be in her element. Since you are much less at ease today, you've tucked yourself under a tree in the backyard to observe from afar, wondering how long you need to stay to be considered polite. There hasn't been a single wedding day that you've enjoyed including your own, so this one was no exception.

Out of everyone here, there seems to be two people who aren’t enjoying the festivities. Steve and the woman that he spots over at another table across the back yard. He doesn’t recognize her and wonders if she’s from Jackson’s side of the family. There’s some of them that he doesn’t recognize. His bottle of beer is nearly warm, sweating, and he could use a conversation that doesn’t involve explaining his divorce, so he decides to abandon his table and start making his way across the grass towards her.

If you had claimed not to notice him, it would have been a dirty lie. Not only did the tall blond man stand head and shoulders above the other guests with his natural height, but he was easily the best looking out of every man here as well. Then there was the fact that you’d seen his face all over the news – but hell, the tv didn’t do him justice. You don’t get to see just how blue those eyes are on a tiny little TV set. It makes it doubly shocking, for you at least, that you didn’t see him approach you. Maybe you were just too caught up in your own memories. Maybe you were too caught up in a daydream. You’re not sure, but either way, you didn’t notice DEA Agent Steve Murphy walking across the yard at you until he was nearly by your side.

The new beers that he had grabbed were in his hand and he sets one on the tall table covered with a snow-white cloth and decorated with some little flower thing in the middle. "You look like me." He observes with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Like you'd rather be at the dentist than this wedding."

“Oh, I—um—” The protest is on the top of your tongue. How weddings are such lovely things. How you feel lucky to be able to celebrate with new acquaintances. But just like the tv didn’t do his looks any justice, it also never got across how warm and magnetic his presence is. He’s got a voice like butter with only the barest trace of an accent left, speaking of years and years away from this place. “I don’t know anyone,” you admit, glancing up at him.

Eager to have a friend in misery, Steve perks up slightly and transfers the beer to his left hand. Wiping the wetness away on his suit trousers, he offers his hand for you to take. "Steve Murphy." He flashes you a grin. "Now you know someone."

Your hand is small in his when you take it, and you give him your name after only a second of flustering. “I know who you are,” you admit, sheepish expression painted over your face even though you won’t tell him that it’s from the news. “I met your sister this morning. Over at Truvy’s.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes. "Whatever Tater told you, it's a lie, okay?" He promises, sure that his baby sister is already causing him trouble. "I did not do half the things she says I did, including cutting off all the heads of her dolls. That was Tyler." He grins and takes a sip of his beer because he had technically kidnapped them for his brother to decapitate but his excuse was that he had been twelve at the time.

The pure and unadulterated sibling-hood is strong, and it makes you grin as you pick up the beer that he set down in front of you. “She did nothing but sing your praises, actually. Favourite brother and so happy you’re home and all that.” You throw him a slightly shady look and smirk. “But Tater is an awful nickname so maybe she was wrong after all.”

"Short for Tater Tot." He gives a small shrug and grins, knowing it's horrible but it does have some bit of reasoning behind it. "When she was a little thing, she loved tater tots and would beg me for mine." He tells you, looking across the yard and spotting his younger sister laughing with Shelby and cooing over her wedding dress. "She would climb up in my lap and eat them off my plate, just singing 'tater tots' over and over."

“And my guess is that she’ll kill you for telling a complete stranger that story.” The first sip of cold beer goes down like cool rain, making you hum happily. “It’s very sweet, though.”

“Probably, but you aren’t a complete stranger now, are you?” He asks, with a grin. It’s nice to commiserate with someone who wasn’t overjoyed at young love. Fuck, he needs to call Peña again.

“I guess not.” He has an easy charm that you’re sure he wielded like a weapon when he was younger, and you could swear that the warmth in your cheeks isn’t from the oppressive heat this time. “Everybody’s been real nice. I’m grateful.”

“Oh, they’re friendly.” He watches as everyone socializes. “Crazy as hell, but friendly. So it’s good to be home.”

“Crazy can be good. Crazy makes life interesting.” You sip your beer again, glancing at his face out of the corner of your eye. God he’s so much more handsome in person…

“So where are you from?” He asks, looking over at you. “Few people choose to move to Chinquapin, Louisiana.

“Last place before this was Alabama.” There had been plenty of places before that, but the last three years wasted in Mobile, Alabama really were wasted, as far as you’re concerned. “Originally? Connecticut.”

Steve nods and wonders what else you’re hiding. You twitched and your response was paused, as if you were making sure you had your story straight. He didn’t think you were some criminal, but the agent in him took notice. “A Yankee huh?” He flashes you a grin. “So how you like it here?”

“It’s a good thing I like summer so much,” you joke, wondering how he can possibly survive the Louisiana humidity in a suit. “And the grub is good. So I figure I’ll stay a while longer.”

“Food is good.” He had missed some homemade Cajun food while he had been in Colombia. “Well, we like to be welcoming, so you stay as long as you like. We’ll end up calling you family.”

That tightens your smile slightly – not having the best associations with family in general can make the idea of even brand-new ties very intimidating. “Thanks,” you murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice.

Steve turns and takes another sip of his beer, wondering again what makes that smile tighten like that. Instead of asking he nods towards the table. “Mrs. Maisy’s catering has the best gator tail and shrimp this side of New Orleans,” he offers.

You laugh before you can stop yourself, obviously thinking he’s joking, but he the expression on his face reads amusement-laced-seriousness. “I’ve never had gator,” you admit, finding his eyes are completely set on you. “Guess I’m gonna have to try it.”

He sends you a wink, happy to have someone not giving him the ‘poor Steve’ speech. Nodding towards the table, he chuckles. “How about now? She’ll run out if we aren’t careful.”

“Sure. Let’s give it a go.” Though you don’t have the faintest idea why he chose to talk to you or why he’s being so nice, you have to admit that you enjoy being around him. It’s probably relieving to have someone who isn’t hounding him for gossip about his divorce or trying to set him up like you’re sure the older ladies are doing, and that makes you the perfect person to be around. You’re brand new – no need for gossip and definitely no desire to talk about marriages. And besides which…something as silly as a wink should not be that sexy. So you’re not about to turn down his company.

Having you with him keeps people from come up and giving him sympathetic speeches about keeping his chin up or he will find someone new, so he keeps you close. Selfish? Maybe. But he likes the way you laugh and he honestly thinks you could use a friend too. “But I have to warn you, watch out for the punch, the menfolk always spike it.” He leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Menfolk, huh?” His breath on your neck makes you shiver a little, as ridiculous as it is, and you find that the way he grins at you when you tease him makes you giddy the way you haven’t felt in years. It’s unnerving and exciting and you don’t know whether to run or beg for more. “Yankee girls don’t grow up on moonshine so maybe I should stay away.”

“All depends on how good of a time you wanna have.” He jokes and his hand rests on your back as he guides you to the tables laden with food.

You really did promise yourself you weren’t going to get involved with another man. Not so soon after everything. This new beginning was supposed to be about you and you alone. Now here you are swooning at the slightest touch like a schoolgirl. “Don’t tempt me.” Is the teasing reply you decide on, half-hoping he’ll leave it at that and half-wondering if he might not.

Steve chuckles and for a moment, he wishes he had a fraction of the charm his old partner had. Javi would have had no problem flirting, but it’s been a long time since he’s done this, he feels a bit wooden. He’s not exactly looking for a relationship, but flirting with a pretty woman always makes a man feel good. “Don’t you know the devil’s in the bayou?” He asks with another wink.

“I’ve heard.” Why does he have to be so fuckin cute? It’s not what you asked for, or what you were looking for, and it’s definitely not what you said you wanted, but here you are practically melting into his side as he stands a touch closer to you waiting for two bowls to be filled with food than he had been standing just a second before. “Guess I must secretly like it, or I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“There’s a magic here.” Steve admits as he looks around at the overgrown oaks that hang heavy with moss. “My mama always said that Chinquapin soothed the soul.”

“Your mama might be right.” You both thank the girl handing out plates and bowls, taking your food away from the chaos just as soon as you get it. There’s a different white-cloth covered table under a different tree open, and this time there are even chairs to sit in. “Connecticut doesn’t really have magic. I think that’s why I left.” Though why you’re talking about it is beyond you. He’s lived a fuller life in the last two years than you have in all of your own, there’s no way you could be interesting enough to keep his attention.

“Maybe it’s just different.” He counters, titling his head as he watches you get set up to eat. He wants to see your reaction to that first bite.

“Maybe.” Very, very different. So different that it stopped affecting you right around the time you hit double digits. When the shiny lens of wonder started to rub off of how you saw the world. Realizing that he’s watching you makes you more than a tiny bit self-conscious, but you know why. The food. So you give him as genuine a smile as you can and fill up a fork full of heavily spiced stewed alligator and shrimp smothered in equally spicy gravy. Cajun food in a nutshell, and actually you’ve found that you love it. “Cheers,” You grin, holding up your fork before taking that big bite all at once – spice and vinegar and something deeply smoky mixed with garlic and onion and…tomato, maybe? Whatever it is, your eyes have practically rolled back in your head as you hum your approval. The alligator tastes more like pork that you would have expected and it’s surprisingly tasty. “Holy shit,” you groan when you’re done with that first bite. “That’s fucking amazing, you weren’t kidding.”

Steve feels his stomach twist at your groan, it’s innocently sexy and that is something he hasn’t thought in a long time. The truth was that Connie left him long before those divorce papers. It was his fault, he changed in Colombia, and now he was trying to find the man he was. He chuckles and takes his own bite. “Isn’t it?” He shakes his head. “When I was eating the best fucking arepas you could ever imagine, I was dreaming of this.”

"Growing up the closest we got to gourmet was a really good hot dog," you joke, leaning to the side a little in your seat instinctively to be closer to him. The chair shifts under you as a matter of course, closing some of the polite distance without you really realizing it. It's just – it's comfortable and giving you a feeling of being warm all the way through that the bayou weather never could. "I mean, Connecticut is a place where they give you pizza with clams on it or a steamed hamburger and call it comfort food. Give me barbecue and real soul food over that any day of the week."

“Steamed hamburgers?” Steve’s eyes widen in horror. “That’s a fuckin’ crime. Has to be.” He’s offended by the mere thought of something like that existing, much less being something people eat.

"It should be, but they exist. And people are even proud of 'em." And right now, eating something as flavorful as you are in the middle of a gorgeous afternoon, that just seems silly. Mystic may have been pretty, but the only thing your little hometown had that Louisiana doesn't is autumn leaves – while Louisiana has so very much more. It's like a whole new world for you to explore, which was part of the reason that you came here in the first place. "This is so much better," you hum, motioning to your almost empty bowl.

“Ate more than you thought you would, didntcha?” He teases, his own spoon eagerly scrapping the bowl for the last mouthful. “Now we gotta talk about the beignets.”

"You're gonna have to roll me back to Mrs. Robeline's Boarding House if you keep feeding me." The soft groan you aim at him is half-hearted though, because you already know you love beignets. They were the very first thing you sought out to eat when you got to New Orleans and they're a happy memory because of it.

“You’re livin’ there?” He lifts a brow in surprise. “She still make everyone be in by eight o’clock and no male visitors beyond the parlor?”

"It was what I could find on short notice." You shrug a little, sitting back in your chair now that your bowl is all but licked clean. "It's not so bad. At least the place is clean, and I have my own bathroom. That's more than some of the other places could offer."

“I’ll keep an eye out for places that you can have to yourself.” Steve promises and looks around the yard again. The dance floor that’s been set up and there are couples starting to drift onto it. He doesn’t want to watch cutting the cake or try to catch that damn garter. “You wanna get out of here?” He asks suddenly. “Get away from all this?”

If you knew what reason he had for being so nice to you - what possible motivation he could have or what he wants from you - you might be wary of the question. As it stands, it’s seems like you’re just the two loneliest people at the wedding and neither of you wants to be here. The idea of escape rolls through you like freedom and relief, and you set your now empty beer bottle back on the table and nod. “I—yeah. Everybody’s really nice, but weddings aren’t my thing.”

“Good.” Steve immediately sets his bottle down and stands. “My truck shouldn’t be blocked in. We can sneak over there and get out of here. Did you drive?”

“I don’t have a car,” you admit quietly, knowing that walking the length of the town every day to get from the boarding house to Miss Truvy’s salon was going to get old very fast. You didn’t exactly have a choice, though.

He doesn’t comment on it, knowing that you wouldn’t appreciate it. He can tell you are here ‘starting over’. The only difference between the two of you is that his family is here to help and you are apparently alone. Instead of making you feel bad, he shoots you a grin. “How about I show you all the best spots in Chinquapin?”

“Do you think Miss Truvy will be upset if I sneak off with saying goodbye?” The last thing you want to do is upset your boss - especially when she drove the two of you here and you’re wearing her borrowed dress. But good god you are dying to be anywhere but here. Especially with him.

“Nah.” He shakes his head with certainty. “Miss Truvy won’t mind at all. But I’ll leave a note on her car if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Today was my first day,” you explain, shrugging apologetically. “She’s so nice, and I don’t want to upset her at all.”

“Note it is.” Steve agrees easily. He would agree to near about anything right now to get away from that wedding party. All he can think about is his own now botched marriage and he’s tired of it all.

It’s like a stealth escape out of a caper movie, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s exaggerating any of it to amuse you or if he’s just gone into impressive government agent mode. Either way he’s sweeping up across two yards within seconds of setting the note under Miss Truvy’s husband’s truck windshield wiper, leading to the two of you snickering wildly when you can hear his mother start to look for him right before you reach his truck.

"Shit." Steve's eyes widen and he hurriedly opens your door to let you hop up into the passenger seat. "We need to leave now or I'll be roped into talking about God knows what with Great Aunt Sally."

"Go, go, go!" The whispered hiss comes with giggles, and you're throwing on your seatbelt as he hustles around the hood of the truck to hop behind the wheel as quickly as possible.

The engine roars to life with a quick turn of the key and Steve quickly throws it into reverse, acting like he's about to start chasing sicarios as he screeches out of the driveway. Your laughter is worth the bit of silly and his own heart is lighter for it.

"So where to?" You ask, as he peels off down the road in the opposite direction of the wedding. The area doesn't exactly have a lot of tourist attractions, but he grew up here. He'll know the hidden gems for what they're really worth.

"How 'bout I show you exactly where to go to get good food, good liquor and the best damn swimming hole in all of Evangaline Parish?" Steve asks, lifting a brow in your direction. He hadn't really thought this through beyond leaving the wedding, but you are new to the area, so he figures giving you the tour is the proper thing to do.

"Sounds good to me." The streets pass by easily, and with your windows rolled down the mid-afternoon hubbub of downtown is a dim soundtrack for the occasional joke or tease in the cab of his truck. You get along easily - effortlessly - and something about it makes you both annoyed with yourself for the obvious way your guard is starting to come down and infinitely more relaxed than you have felt in years because of it.

"So, besides your normal desserts, Ida's makes the best damn milkshake you've ever tasted in your life. And her pecan pie is to die for." He nods as he sees the shop in the distance. "Wanna get some for the tour?"

"If we were just wandering, I'd say we should pick up a flask of bourbon and have grown up milkshakes." Alcoholic milkshakes were a treat that an old landlady has introduced you to years and years ago, and you absolutely loved the combination of creamy sweetness with the cut of smoky liquor running through it.

"That sounds like a plan." He quickly agrees and slows the truck down so he pull into an empty parking spot in front of the small shop. "The bourbon will be better coming from 'ol Jackson's near the river."

“Ol Jackson’s it is.” You agree easily. Downtown is exactly the kind of quaint you have come to expect from the Deep South, with old store fronts and almost-as-old men sitting out front of some of them smoking and cavorting. Ida’s is a neat little building painted white and decorated with a pretty blue-and-yellow painted sign above the entrance. Everything about it is tidy, even the trade of laughing old me with a pair of ladies still in their Sunday best sipping sweet tea and happily chattering over slices of Cajun cake.

Steve waits until you join him on the sidewalk for you before he guides you into the store. "Now are you a chocolate kind of girl or vanilla?" He asks, as if its the most important question in the world.

"Depends on what it is." The pastry cases are full of every goodie you can possibly think of, and the big machines behind the counters that spin milkshakes are happily buzzing. With only a small ice cream case in one corner, you figure this is definitely a quality over quantity situation and that sounds like heaven. "Usually vanilla. Nothing is quite as good as vanilla and cinnamon together, though."

"So you should choose number four." He tells you seriously, pointing to the menu hanging above the milkshake station. "It's vanilla with a slice of cinnamon crumb cake mixed in. Everything is homemade, by the way."

"This place is heaven," you grin, breathing in the smell of fresh cakes and pastries. If the fact that you have smiled more this afternoon than you have in the last nine months is a factor, your cheeks will be sore for hours, but you can't bring yourself to care. It's a miracle to feel this free again.

"That what you want?" He asks, waiting for your nod before he walks up to the counter. "See me? I'm gonna go with the chocolate with the devil’s food cake mixed in." He tells with a grin. "It's sinful."

"So much for pecan pie." Amused that you both abandoned the classic in favor of comfort choices, you nudge him a little with your arm. "But I have a feeling I'm gonna be coming here any time I have a few dollars to spare."

"It's addictive." He agrees as Ida comes out of the back, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Steven Murphy!" She grins, giving him a motherly scold. "I'd heard you were coming back. When did you get in?"

"Today." That makes her chuckle, no doubt amused with the fact that he had been in town for less than twenty-four hours and he was already darkening her doorway.

"Well, what can I get for you hun?" She asks, turning to smile at you with a curious gleam to her eyes. You aren't the former Mrs. Steve Murphy, she had recognized her from the few visits they had made to Chinquapin as a couple years ago, but you were obviously with Steve for this visit and she doesn't recall seeing you around town.

Steve orders for both of you and makes a face when you try to offer him a few dollars from your purse, and you roll your eyes good naturedly. You didn't figure he would let you pay, but offering is the least you could do. If you closed your eyes and dreamed, you could pretend this was a date. Casual and comfortable, two people who have found each other and grown fond of each other and kept each other company through the ups and downs of life. Which would be a hell of a lot more romantic than your last relationship. Your marriage.

The sounds of the milkshake being made are comforting, a sound of his childhood. He looks around and tries to see what it would look like through a newcomer’s eyes. "The sandwiches are good here too." He promises you. "Especially the Thanksgiving special."

"You are gonna have to roll me back home." You laugh, looking up at him beside you. "I guess we'll have to come back another time." The we is slightly presumptuous, but you want him to be enjoying this as much as you are.

Steve grins and wonders if it was a slip of the tongue or a soft hint that you would like that. The idea that it was a hint makes him shift to stand a little straighter. "We can do that." He turns when Ida sets the milkshakes on the counter and reaches out for them. "Thank you ma'am." He nods towards the woman who has seen him in her shop since he was in diapers.

"Anything for my new favourite deputy." She grins, nodding at the much taller, much younger man. Gossip moves fast in their little town and everybody who knew Steve Murphy was coming home also knew what he would be up to when he got here. There were whispers about his wife, and it seemed like they were true after all. Shame.

Steve can feel the question in your eyes as the two of you exit the shop. He sighs and gives a small shrug of his shoulders as he hands you the vanilla milkshake. "I was working for the feds for awhile, but that's done so I came home." He explains. "Being a sheriff's deputy will keep me from going insane with boredom."

"I—" You hesitate again, but decide to just shrug it off. You would rather not start this friendship - or whatever it is - out on a lie. "I know who you are," you tell him finally, as you both climb back into his truck. "I've seen you; I mean. On TV and in the papers. I just...didn't know you were from here until I met your sister this morning."

"Oh." He chuckles and shakes his head. "I guess there's no escaping it when it was in the papers, huh?" He asks with a roll of his eyes. "At least it was just my career on display."

"What you did made a lot of people's lives safer again. Better. It's nothing to shrug off, Steve." He turns over the engine and pulls out into the empty street again, going through the automatic motions like he could drive the entire town in his sleep. He probably could. "People all over the world are better off now than they were when that monster was alive. And that is thanks to you."

He could tell you that the number of kilos of cocaine entering the U.S. hasn't slowed down. In fact, more cocaine is coming in than before. He doesn't though. The tone of your voice makes him think that it's something personal for you. "Who was it?" He asks softly, expecting that you lost someone to drugs.

"Um..." You swallow, eyes drifting away from him to stare out the windshield. "My husband. Ex-husband. He's in prison, thank god. Just...please...Miss Truvy doesn't know. I didn't know if she would hire someone with a past."

His brow wings up, both surprised that you have a husband in prison and that you think that he would tell someone else's story. He shakes his head. "Not my place to say a word." He hums. "Besides, your ex-husband isn't you."

“He was a bastard, and I never should have married him.” That, at least, is the dead honest truth. But at least you’re free of him now, which is more than you thought you would ever live to say. Huffing slightly at yourself, you watch the road go by out the front window for a moment. “Anyway. Liquor store and swimming hole, right?”

"Right." He can tell you want to change the subject, so he does just that. Making a left at the only stoplight in town and humming at the sight of the magnolia tree blooming in front of the small city hall.

The drive is now transformed to an awkward silence, and you wish you had never said a fucking thing. It’s too late for that, obviously, but it has been so nice until now. The sight of the liquor store is almost a blessing at this point, as you severely hope that a little relaxation will make things less weird again.

Putting the truck in park, Steve turns to you. "Don't worry about it." He comments softly. "Hell, everyone in town is talking about how my wife divorced me on the heels of catching Escobar, so your issues won't even be a blip on the radar."

“We were just the two worst people to invite to a wedding, weren’t we?” It’s almost comical in a way. Or it would be if you both weren’t so obviously hurt by your former spouses.

Steve barks out a laugh, throwing his head back in relief that you aren't upset and nods quickly. "Yes, we were." He agrees easily and jerks his head towards the liquor store. "Come on, let's go get that bourbon you want."

Hopping out of the car right after him, you snort and shake your head. “You can’t tell me you don’t want a stiff drink after blush and bashful.” You roll your eyes, thinking of the huge deal Shelby had made over her wedding colours being two barely distinguishable shades of pink.

"I don't know what the fuck those colors are." He admits with another laugh and strides to the door to open it for you. "The colors for my wedding were...." He chuckles. "Fuck, I don't even know. Some kind of green and blue."

“Pink and pink, Steve. They were pink and pink.” It’s good to laugh with him, the feeling of comfort rolling back through you. “I barely even had a wedding. Just the courthouse with some flowers from the grocery store and a low country boil for dinner.” Unbelievably, though, that last bit does make you smile. “At least the food was good.”

"Only reason we did a wedding was because my mama would have killed us." Steve admits with a chuckle. "Wouldn't have minded the courthouse."

“I don’t think I would have minded if he had just asked.” Inside the liquor store is cram-jam full from floor to ceiling with every kind of bottle you can imagine and two men playing cards who pay you and Steve no mind. “I should have seen the warning sign from miles away.”

"Easy to ignore." Steve admits, knowing that he had ignored the warning signs that Connie was unhappy.

“It’s done with now.” And good riddance. Cocaine had turned a careless man into a monster, and you survived it. That’s all that matters now. “I just— I’m sorry you had to go through your own. You seem like a very sweet guy.”

"I'm not." He promises, his jaw clenching slightly in self-reflection. "I've got my own demons, but I'm trying." He had witnessed the darkness in him, it almost threatened to ruin his career until Javi went to bat for him. He just needed to make sure that darkness was caged.

“That’s all you can do, really.” The back wall is covered in whiskey and bourbon bottles, all different labels and few that you recognize. “We don’t have to…” you hesitate, glancing over at him. “If it’s not going to be good for you, we can skip it.” Whatever his demons are, they’re his and he doesn’t owe you an explanation. But you also don’t want to push him toward them accidentally.

"Nahhhhh." He shoots you a smirk and shrugs. "You aren't snorting coke in front of a DEA agent." He jokes.

“Former DEA agent.” Trying for a cheery smile, you shrug again. “I’ll never touch that shit. It turns people into shadows and monsters. Booze just makes me giggly and a little cuddly. And I can rein that in, ya know? Cocaine just…it’s unstoppable.”

"It's good to steer clear of that shit." He shakes his head. "Never understand why people want to snort shit up their noses that's made with gasoline."

“I guess it just depends on how badly you’re hurting, and how badly you want to stop hurting.” Plucking a small bottle of Statesman Reserve from the shelf, you hold it up for him to inspect. “It’s on me, but it will have to go home with you if we don’t finish it. No male guests past the parlor and no liquor of premises,” you recite the boarding house rules mockingly.

Steve snorts and shoots you a grin. "I'll save it for the next time, how about that? That way we can always have boozy milkshakes."

“You’re teasing me, but you’re going to love it.” That grin is going to make you more flustered than you’ve been in a long time, you can’t help it.

"Oh, I don't doubt it." He takes the bottle from you and turns it around to look at the label. "Statesman, huh? Don't think I've heard of this."

“Bourbon of choice for ‘Bama sorority girls.” You laugh, entirely at your own expense, and nod at the bottle - and maybe the memories, too. “It’s good, I promise.”

"Well hell, gotta try it." He draws and looks around. "Anything else you want a nip of?"

“I’m easy.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them and you chuckle. “I mean— you know what I mean.”

"Suuuuuuure." His wink is pure teasing and he loves the way you fluster slightly and look around the shop again. "That's exactly what you meant." He doesn't know why it seems so easy with you, but it does.

Rolling your eyes heavily is purely for dramatic effect, and you pluck the bottle out of his hands with a laugh. “C’mon, Steve, the milkshakes are waiting.”

"Yeah, yeah." He doesn't protest when you pay for the bourbon, even though he wants to. It's just ingrained in him that the man pays but he knows a lot of women don't think that way anymore.

******

The swimming hole, apparently, is barely two more minutes away. Steve steers the truck down to the bottom of a hill and around a vacant lot until the road runs out, and then the two of you get out and walk until a thin wall of trees gives way to a sizeable little pond hidden away from prying eyes. It's stunning - an absolutely gorgeous sight that literally takes your breath away when he steps aside to show you the view. "It's beautiful..."

"Good news is that there're rarely gators in here." He informs you. "It's something about the mineral content in the water or some such thing." He gives a small shrug. "Never really paid attention to the way, just happy I wasn't going to get rolled when I went swimmin'."

"Their loss." It's a gorgeous spot and you feel just a little spoiled that he chose to share it with you. "And more fun for us."

Steve sits down on a pile of rocks near the water and pulls the lid off his milkshake. "Ready to booze it up?" He asks playfully as he tilts it back to drink some to make room for the bourbon.

"Yes, please." Kicking off your heels lets you drop down onto the rocks beside him much more easily, and you're careful not to spill a single drop on your borrowed dress as you take the first sips of your milkshake. The creamy, spicy, floral, sticky sweet drink is as cooling as it is delicious, and you giggle happily at the first taste. "Oh god, Ida's never gonna get me out of that place. This is amazing."

"Swear if I didn't leave for college and the DEA I would have lived in that shop." He agrees as he takes another sip and then sets it down to open the bottle of bourbon to add to it.

"I don't blame you." He pours indiscriminately, filling each drink to the tip top of their cups while you dip your toes in the water. "If I had grown up here, I might never have left."

He snorts, chuckling softly. "Maybe, but I needed to leave." He tells you as he mixes the alcohol into the milkshake.

"Everyone has a different journey." The smoky richness of Statesmen Reserve has flavour tones that compliment your vanilla and cinnamon milkshake perfectly, and once again you're moaning softly over your food. "Sorry," you laugh, shooting him a grin. "I'm not one of those salad-and-water-only girls living on fad diets. I love food."

"I don't mind that a bit." He promises. "I don't think I've ever really paid attention, but my ex would easily out eat me on a good day." He laughs.

Your eyes widen for a second, obviously mishearing him and catching 'eat me out' instead of 'out eat me'. "Oh...uh..." You clear your throat, finally figuring out that you heard him wrong and feeling like a flustered moron with a one-track mind. "Cool. That's...that's good."

He doesn't know why your voice changes for a moment, making him turn to look at you curiously for a second before he shrugs it off. "Do you want to try mine?" He asks, offering you the chocolate extravaganza he had chosen.

"Sure." Yeah...because wrapping your lips around anything of his right now isn't setting your brain off into wildly inappropriate places. You trade him for your drink because sharing is caring, and hum happily at the deeply unctuous chocolatey flavour. "You can't go wrong with ice cream and booze."

"I'm learning." Steve licks his lips are a bit of your milkshake gets into his mustache. "It might change the way I get drunk." He jokes, watching your eyes close in pleasure while you tip back his cup.

"Drinking should be fun." You contend, handing him back his cup a second later. "Doing it on your own and moping when the bottle is empty is not fun."

"Done plenty of that." He lifts the milkshake up in toast. "Especially when...well, there was plenty of reasons to drink alone towards the end."

"To new beginnings, then." Holding your cup up to his, you offer him what you hope is a smile as warm and encouraging as you feel in this moment. "For both of us."

"To new beginnings." Steve grins and touches his paper cup to yours as if it’s the finest china and takes a sip of his milkshake.

As the sun starts to go down, lightning bugs and chirping crickets become the backdrop for your little getaway. It's a Saturday night in a usually quiet town where you have intentionally abandoned the place where all of your neighbors are congregating, and the temperature is slowly dropping along with the sun. It leaves the sky streaked with pinks and oranges and purples in a way that could easily be characterized as romantic if you let yourself think about it that way.

He might have poured too much bourbon in the cups, his entire body warming up pleasantly and he relaxes for the first time since he arrived in the States. His divorce is literally days old, the ink barely dry on the judge's signature and yet, right now, he feels like he's on a date. He looks out at the water and grins, standing up and stripping off his suit jacket. "Wanna go for a swim?" He asks as he kicks off his shoes.

Your eyes flick up to him from where they had been focused on your drink, sucking every last bit of delicious alcoholic creaminess up through the wide straw. He has already tossed his jacket and tie down and is toeing off his shoes, starting to unbutton the sleeves of his shirt at the same time. Pure mischief is painted across his handsome face and the familiar buzzing of Statesman in your system makes you bold. Sure it’s the same kind of boldness that got you into a bit of trouble back in college, but it was always fun trouble. “You wanna skinny dip?” The question makes you giggle a little, and even without an answer you already know you’re going to do it. When was the last time you felt so fucking free? Years, at least.

He had meant to keep his briefs on, allowing you to stay in your bra and panties for modesty, but since you are bringing it up? Hell yeah. He chuckles and unzips his pants. "If you want I'll close my eyes and turn around." He teases.

What he doesn't realize is that the underwear you have on will be so sheer if you jump in wearing it that you might as well be naked, and that skinny dipping was a favourite bit of mischief back when you used to get into mischief more often. "Just gotta be careful with Miss Truvy's dress," you mumble, not finding the clasp or zipper buried deep in the dusty pink coloured velvet.

"Do you need some help?" He wouldn't be a gentleman if he didn't offer, turning towards you while he's in just the white briefs he had worn under his suit. This was the wildest thing he had done in a while that didn't involve guns or criminals and he was actually enjoying it.

"I found the tie." There was a decorative cord at the back of your neck that had confused your tipsy brain because you didn't wear a necklace!, and you had to giggle at yourself. "Can't find the zipper."

Steve approaches gently, knowing that he doesn't want to seem too eager to get you out of your clothes. That wouldn't be very proper. Instead, he studies the dress from the back, an expect from helping Connie with hers. "It's on the side, sweetheart." He hums, reaching for the tiny little zipper for the dress.

"Oh." That earns a more animated giggle and you huff at yourself playfully, even as you raise your arm automatically for him to help. "That explains it."

"Never understood why they would put the zippers in the most inconvenient places." He murmurs, his breath washing over the back of your neck. "Then I realized it was to make taking off the dress more fun."

"You having fun, Steve?" You are. You definitely are. There's something giddy in the air tonight that you can't deny and it's only half to do with the man whose large hands are carefully peeling you out of a borrowed dress.

"Bourbon, a pretty girl and my favorite swimming hole?" He hums, his voice teasing and playful. "I'm having a lot of fun." Especially if you are. He's not a dummy. He knows you are attracted to him. He's not big headed about it, but plenty of women hit on him while he was with Connie, but he hadn't done anything about it. Now, that wedding band was just a suntan mark on his hand.

"I am, too." A shy smile creeps across your face as the dress comes down your shoulders, fairly confident that Steve is getting an eyeful of the lace bra you have on underneath. Now he sees why it wouldn't be worth it to keep anything on in the water. It isn't arrogance to think that he might reciprocate your attraction, but you're also not expecting him to act on it in any way. Not when he's so recently divorced and everything. "Go on and jump in," you encourage, nudging him slightly. "I'll be in, in a second."

He takes that as a hint that you want a touch of privacy while you strip down and he's going to oblige you. Doesn't mean he has to be shy. Instead, Steve pulls his briefs down right there, stepping around you and striding towards the swimming hole while he gains momentum and does exactly what you tell him to, he jumps in with a loud 'Wahooo' before he hits the water.

"Fuck..." Barely audible under your breath, you shake your head a little in amusement at the way your heartrate spiked at him passing - completely naked - in front of you for just a split second on his way to the water. At least he doesn't have the world's biggest dick or anything. You think to yourself, dropping your bra and panties beside your dress and anchoring them with a small rock so the wind doesn't take them away as you turn to slip into the water. That would just make the ache slowly building between your legs even worse.

Steve sputters slightly as he comes back to the surface, laughing and swiping his hair back as he flicks the water out of his eyes but he doesn't open them. "You in?" He calls out, turning towards the shore and kicking his legs to stay afloat.

"Yeah, I'm in." You had opted to climb down the rocks and jump from a much lower height, not making as much of a ruckus when you did. Now you're only a few feet away. The water is warm and laps at your skin gently, making the whole idea as relaxing as it is fun.

He grins and opens his eyes, looking around before he spots you. "Fun, isn't it?" He chuckles.

"Thanks for showing me." With the sun fully set the water is nearly opaque, but that doesn't keep you from feeling the water churn as he lazily kicks next to you or finding his bright blue eyes in the moonlight.

His grin makes only half his mouth move, nodding slightly as he treads a little closer to you. "My pleasure." He hums. "It’s not every day you get to go skinny dipping with a pretty girl."

"I'll have to try it sometime." Teasing him is too easy, and the warmth of having him come closer in the water is overwhelming in the very best way. "Find myself a pretty girl and bring her out here to see what it feels like.”

Steve chuckles, lifting at brow at the thought. "Can I come too?" He asks, teasing you right back.

"I mean, I guess." You huff dramatically, as though he has made a life-or-death request. He's closer to you without feeling like he's prowling and you swear your skin will light on fire if he ever reaches out and touches you like this. "It's gonna be harder to find a girl who likes both of us, but we could do it."

"Hmmm." He snickers softly and edges slightly closer. The entire conversation has made something decide that it wants to make an appearance. Steve Murphy is a grower. "I could always just watch." He concedes, circling around you slowly to where he is behind you, just in case he bumps into you. Better to have his erection press against your ass or thigh than your belly since he doesn't know how you are feeling right now.

The second he can't see your face, your eyes close and your face screws up in momentary concentration as you try to will your body to calm the fuck down. The man is barely divorced - he doesn't need the new girl in town jumping him hours after meeting. Although, he wouldn't be flirting or skinny dipping with you unless he wanted to be, the voice in the back of your head reasons. "But that's not as much—" Your eyes pop open a second later when you're certain you felt him touch your hip - but his hands are both on the surface of the water and he can't be that close to you and – Oh shit...that was definitely...apparently he does have the world's biggest dick after all. "Not as much fun," you finish, swallowing thickly.

"No, it wouldn't be." He can agree to that, in this hypothetical fantasy of yours. "So guess we better start looking huh?" He is enjoying the way that you seem to be breathing harder, obviously turned on as well.

Looking over your shoulder brings you eye level with him in the water, and you would be clenching your fists at your sides if you weren't using them to stay afloat right now. "I guess so." You murmur, finding him watching you with a pleased smile tucked up in the corner of his mouth.

"Ooooorrrr." Steve draws out, deciding to breach the chasm between the two of you and use one arm to grab your hip and steer you back into his chest. "I can keep the pretty girl I have right here to myself." He huffs into your ear. "I'm liking that option."

"Shit." You practically whimper at the strength of the act, not dominating in any way but somehow still making you feel as light as a feather in his arms. With your back to his chest and his hand spanning more of your hip and belly that you thought one hand ever possibly could, you tip your head back to rest on his shoulder. "I—I didn't, I mean—" Breathe, you idiot. "This wasn't a scheme or anything. Just so you know."

"Hmmmm, I know." He brushes his lips against your ear before he kisses your neck. "I was the one who suggested this." He reminds you with a grin. "Although there was a little scheming on my part. Or maybe hoping's a better word."

"Hoping, huh?" Squirming slightly against him just ends up - unintentionally, you swear - grinding your ass against his hard length. That feeling right there is the last crack in your resolve, and you twist around to wrap both arms around his shoulders as you face him. "Jesus, Steve. You're gonna kill me."

He huffs, even as he grins. "What does that mean?" He asks teasingly. He doesn't think you are talking about him literally killing you, but he wasn’t boastful.

"It means I thought you were hot seeing you on TV, but apparently the real you is even sexier," you admit, right before crushing your lips to his without any further hesitation.

It's been a long time since Steve has kissed anyone else, but in the ranking of kisses - it’s up there. Your lips are soft and yet your kiss is determined. You kiss him like you want him and that is something that turns him on. His tongue slides into your mouth quickly when you open for him, and he loves the way you moan into his mouth.

He tastes like chocolate and whiskey and something you can't put your finger on, and the way he drags you against him with one arm only encourages you to wrap one leg around his waist in an effort to get as close as possible while still staying afloat. There is no way in the world that you could have predicted how good this moment would feel, but now that it's here you would happily live in it forever.

Steve hums into your kiss, enjoying how easily the two of you seem to slide together so naturally. Deepening the kiss and closing his eyes, he feels his body respond to the feeling of your heated core pressed against his cock.

"Fuck." At a certain point you just have to come up for air, as much as you wish you didn't. The way your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest is better than anything you've felt in years and even better is the feeling of his hard length slipping against your folds.

"If we need to stop—" Steve stops to kiss along your jaw. "Let me know." He doesn't want to push; this is the first day you've met after all. You might not be ready or willing to go any farther than this, and he's okay with that.

"Do you want to stop?" The sincerity in his voice is genuine, you can tell that much, but it brings out the concern in your own as you find his eyes in the dark again. You didn't exactly talk about this possibility, or anything near it, and you don't want to push him. But you will be honest. "'Cause I don't, but we both have to want...whatever this is."

He laughs at the ridiculousness of you believing he wants to stop. “Does this feel like I want to stop?” He asks, grinding against you slowly.

It earns him a whimper from your lips and your eyes flutter shut of their own accord. "Just trying to be considerate," you mumble, clinging to him a little tighter. Your hips are already rolling slow circles along with his. "I-I'm safe. On the pill, I mean."

“I— it’s been a long time.” Steven admits breathlessly, thinking about the last time he was with Connie. “I—I’ve been tested. I’m clean.”

“Then…” Nipping at his neck, you grin at the glancing thought that it wouldn’t take much effort at all to leave a mark in his skin. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t have some fun.”

“Yeah?” He grins as he pulls back to search your eyes, making sure there’s no hesitation on your part.

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, nodding and reveling in the way he looks both delighted and maybe a little surprised. Like he can’t believe you want him. “Absolutely.”

He starts to guide you towards the rocks, wanting to have you close to them. It’s hard to fuck in open water and he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself.

With the moon out and the lightning bugs and the soft noises of the valley at night, it almost feels like a fairy tale. A very adult one, obviously, as the two of you return to hungrily kissing the life out of each other as quickly as possible, but there’s no mistaking the element of romance even as your back presses against the edge of the watering hole. Rocks will keep you steady, giving him something to hold on to, and you lift your other leg up around his hip easily now that you have a little leverage, too.

His hands move into less appropriate places and he squeezes your ass. “You gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, pulling away from your mouth to start kissing down your chest.

“Was thinkin’ I might.” You groan softly, chuckling interrupted by a gasp when the tip of his tongue flicks one of your nipples experimentally. “As long as you actually know how to use that cock and don’t just parade it around.”

He chuckles and looks up at you, a hank of his wet hair falling over one eye. “Only one way for you to find out.” He coos before he wraps his lips around the nipple and tugs on it.

Thankfully you manage to remember that there are rocks behind you about half a second before you throw your head back in pleasure, the keening sound that escapes your lips being plenty loud enough to make up for it as you thread your fingers through his wet hair and encourage him to explore. If you could manage it you would have your eager fingers wrapped around his cock to find out exactly what kind of pressure and how fast or slow he likes it stroked, but like this it’s much more fun to grind your hips down and listen to him moan against your tits like he’s trying to suck your wildly beating heart out directly through your chest.

It’s been a long time since he’s made out with anyone in this swimming hole, not that you’re exactly ‘making out’. It’s gone beyond that as he suckles and bites on your breast while he pulls your hips down on his cock. He’s fucking aching already and it’s not like you’ve been teasing him for long, maybe it’s because he knows how reserved you had been just hours ago.

If the thought of doing something so intimate in such a public place ever would have bothered you, it isn’t even crossing your mind now. Messing around - fully naked - on town property is probably something he would be arresting teens for when he puts that deputy’s uniform on, but right now it’s glorious. Right now it’s only the whine of his name from your lips and the rolling insistence of your hips in the moonlight, and you can’t remember the last time anything felt so good.

Steve chuckles and switches over to your other breast. “Impatient.” He chides, grinning at the enthusiasm you are displaying for him. “So you don’t want to wait anymore?” He asks after he flicks his tongue over your nipple. “You want it now?”

The idea that there could be anything besides sex makes you pause, and there’s a flash of confusion on your face that you can’t hide. A three-year marriage to a man who saw you first and foremost as a means to provide pleasure for himself has clearly warped your expectations. “Want to make you feel good,” is what you go with when you get your mind back, hoping desperately that he didn’t notice anything.

He grunts, picking up on the momentary confusion and he doesn't want to make it a big deal - but he does want to make sure that you know that he operates different from whoever the selfish asshole you were married to was. "You know what I want?" He asks, moving you closer to the rocks. "I want to lick your pussy." He groans. "It's been a long time since I've been able to eat a woman out, will you let me?"

“You want to—?” The way desire has made his eyes nearly black is obvious even in the moonlight, and you can think of a single reason in the world he would lie about wanting it, so you nod and shift back against the rocks, hoping you can lift yourself up on them reasonably easily. “Whatever you want, handsome.”

He wonders when the last time a man had you like this. That he knelt down before you and buried his face in your glistening sex just for the pleasure of knowing that he made you cry out. You seem surprised that he would want to taste you. Connie had loved his penchant for oral, and his eagerness had made it to where her own want for reciprocation hadn't waned until things had gotten beyond salvaging between them. Shaking that thought off, his ex didn't belong in this moment, he hums and watching you lift your pussy above the waterline, and he slides between your legs as they spread wide.

You almost lose your balance as soon as you find it, but his broad shoulders and strong grip keep you steady, holding you up on the edge of the rock that you have perched yourself on just above the water line. There is nothing tentative in the way Steve moves and yet none of it is demanding, and it's an intoxicating combination that all comes down to want. He wants you, and he's going to have you, and you know without a doubt that you're going to enjoy every second of it.

He’s not as quick to just dive right in, there’s something in your surprise that makes him go slower. Not that he isn’t determined, instead he starts at your knees, kissing both and working higher, brushing your sensitive inner flesh with his mustache as he scatters kisses over your skin. Giving you time to anticipate and to cry off if you want.

He's slow and almost reverent, taking his time mapping every inch of your skin in the warmth and moonlight. The impulse to thread your fingers through that mass of wet hair is definitely there but you resist, balancing yourself carefully and letting him do whatever it is he's going to do since you're already sure that it will have you in a whimpering state of pure indulgence in no time. At least, everything else has so far, so why not this too?

He hovers over you when he reaches the juncture of your thighs. Looking up at you as if waiting for some kind of challenge, he flashes you a wink before he lowers his mouth to your cunt.

"Holy shit!" Your head drops back almost instantly, eyes shutting as you grip the rock beneath you even more desperately. There is no question about it, once he's started - Steve Murphy eats pussy with passion. There is no hesitation in his movements, only hunger, and you swear he must have a tongue as long as his cock for the incredible way he's devouring you as you try not to cry out in the warm night.

God, it’s been so long since he’s had this. His hands grip your thighs, urging you to use his shoulders as a prop and allow him more access. Groaning as he licks through your folds and discovers your flavor, the way you like to be eaten.

Even if you could lay back like this - give him all the access to every inch of you that you could - you wouldn't. Maybe it's selfish, but you want to be able to watch. When your eyes flutter open again he is completely absorbed in you and it might be the most intoxicating thing you have ever experienced in your entire life.

Steve's eyes flutter closed in pleasure as he pushes his tongue inside you. Moaning at how your walls seems to curl around his tongue and pulse with your excitement. His fingers dig into your flesh and he tugs you closer as he leans in, eager for more, inhaling your scent as he tries to drown himself in your sex.

The movement is inelegant, as dragging you closer to him makes you jolt and shriek slightly in halted pleasure and one of your hands digs into his hair to keep you steady. When he groans at the sudden, sharp sensation of having his hair pulled you echo the noise almost immediately, giving the strands another light tug of encouragement and angling your hips forward to fully surrender to anything and everything he has to give you.

He feels the moment your entire body sags and he chuckles into your folds. Flicking his tongue over your clit and swirling it around before he pulls it into his mouth to suck on as you start to grind down against him. Wondering if you even realize you are doing it.

It's heaven. Absolute bliss like you haven't experienced in years. Maybe longer, although that thought is so far off in your head that you can barely grasp it. The only thing in your mind right now is pleasure and how he is working you up until your thighs are shaking on either side of his head and you wonder if he has any clue what kind of wanton, desperate noises you're making because your legs must be clamped down so hard on his ears that the world around him is muffled.

There is something exquisite about a woman clenching her legs closed around his head. It makes his cock throb and his mouth even more eager as the pressure against his skull increases as every second ticks by. He is living right here, in this moment and it's most he has felt like himself in years.

The balance of too much, not enough, and just perfect tips when he nips at your soaking wet lips and gently drags his teeth along your throbbing clit making nearly scream his name as you fly apart from every possible seam. This orgasm is having you, not the other way around, and you are just hanging on for dear life and trying not to moan too loudly so you don't get caught.

It's like a damn bursting and he is caught in the onslaught. Groaning as he tries to keep up with the rush of your pleasure that floods his mouth, filling it and making him pull you even closer. Eager to drink you down and have you push at his head in an attempt to get him to stop.

Feeling completely boneless makes it slightly difficult to gain that all-essential control over your own movements again and you swear that it takes you a solid thirty seconds to remember to breathe after your body has stopped shaking above him. Only after that do you giggle softly, deep and throaty, and groan his name into the humid air. “Fuck, Steve…” You smooth his hair back from where your fingers were digging into his scalp. “Oh my god.”

He chuckles as he pulls away and looks up at your face, hazy and soft with pleasure. "Good?" He asks, wanting to hear the praise. He's not above asking for it, especially with a new partner.

“Amazing.” Hell, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he’s easily the best pussy eater you’ve ever been with. It’s not a hard competition against the two other men that came before. The others had refused, saying it was gross or they disliked the taste.

"Mmmmh." Steve smirks and yet he slides his fingers over your hips so he can seek out your wetness. Wanting to feel it another way. "Now you want to see how we fit together?" He asks, biting his lip as he slowly circles your entrance and almost presses into you, stopping just shy of breeching your walls.

“Hell yes.” You can’t help but giggle at your own enthusiasm, all self-consciousness washed away in the sea of cum he eagerly lapped from your cunt. “Help me back in the water, handsome.”

He chuckles and lets your brace your hands on his shoulders while you slide into the water. Not missing the chance to capture your nipple in his mouth again as you wrap your legs around his waist. Sex in water is amazing and he loves how easily he can manipulate and move you as he wants.

“Goddamn.” Even with just the tip of his cock nudging your entrance - like an echo of his fingers a moment ago - you can already feel how much he’s going to stretch you. “Feels like you’re going to split me in half.”

"Bet you say that to everyone." He teases, pulling away from your breast and reaching to capture your chin between his fingers and pressing a kiss to your lips. "You ready?"

“Wouldn’t say it unless it was true,” you promise him, squirming a little as you try to roll your hips down to take him a little deeper. The men before him had been nowhere near as well endowed, so you’re both excited and a little nervous. “Ready, baby.”

The moment the head of his cock slips inside you, he's glad he's got his feet planted on the rocks underneath the water. Groaning against your lips while he slowly starts to pull you down onto his length, impaling you inch by tortuously fabulous inch as you steal his breath.

It was an exaggeration when you said it. A minor one, you thought, but an exaggeration nonetheless. But with every second that ticks by as you sink down on his cock, you're starting to believe that you might feel him in your throat by the time he bottoms out. Wrapping both of your arms around his shoulders lets you hold him as close as possible as he starts to move, whimpering against his lips with every forward stroke. If he does split you in half, it will be the most amazing way to go in the whole world.

The water sloshes around both of you and Steve reaches out to hold onto the rock at your back. Keeping himself steady as he works himself in and out of you. “Fuck.” He pants, ducking his head down to nip at your throat and kiss it after.

"Fuck – oh fuck – you feel so fucking good." The words just tumble from your lips between kisses, desperate to feel as much of him all at once as you possibly can.

Steve has to agree, you feel amazing around him. He grunts and his teeth find your bottom lip and bites down on it while he gives a particularly rough thrust after he feels your walls relax around him.

The rocks biting into your back could leave permanent scars and you would wear them of badges of honour to memorialize tonight. As unbelievable as it is, he seems to fit you perfectly - stretching and filling you but never pushing past pure pleasure or approaching pain. Even the rougher strokes, that energetic and needy rhythm he finds that has you crying out and moaning with every thrust, seems to be the perfect balance for the two of you. You nip him back, lower lip and neck and earlobe all perfect places for your teeth to sink into and he seems to love it.

“Fuck.” He hisses, closing his eyes and his mouth going slack at the way you are biting and nipping him. He loves it. Arm tightening around you, he moans your name quietly, right into your ear, feeling his cock twitch deep inside your snug walls.

It's music. The best song in the world. And right in this moment you know that you'll do whatever you can to hear your name from his lips over and over again. The revelation that he likes to be a little rougher spurs you on entirely, though, and without even thinking about it you find yourself sucking a deep mark at the base of his neck that will be there at least a few days - hidden under his deputy's uniform like a dirty little secret. Which, you suppose, it is.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Steve moans into the air, not giving a flying fuck who might be around and hear. He wouldn’t stop if the sheriff himself rolls up right now. His stomach clenches at the suction of your mouth on his skin and he turns the two of you around, bracing himself against the rock and starts moving you onto top of him, gritting his teeth as he manages to slip a little deeper.

"Oh my god." Clinging to him that much more securely as you move on him, it becomes an unrecognizable rhythm that matters only to your bodies. The whole world has dissolved around you, but you are climbing nearer to your peak with every passing moment.

“You gonna cum?” Steve asks, hissing slightly when your walls start to flutter around him. Nearly stunting his thrusts, but he just pulls you down harder and rucks his hips up more to work through it.

“S-so fucking close.” And when was the last time you actually came with a lover at all, let alone twice?

“Good.” Steve grunts, the water slapping in the small space between you and his head falls forward to rest on your collar bone while he barrels you both towards an orgasm. “Need to feel it baby.” Moving together, it doesn't take long for the two of you to find yourselves on the precipice. Your walls bear down on him with so much force that you swear you nearly black out near the end, sobbing his name into the night as the floodgates open once more. “Shit.” Steve hisses, body tensing and he’s powerless to hold out when you are coming apart in his arms. Dragging you closer and crashing his lips to yours while he gives into his own need. Pouring himself into you in molten waves that make him gasp and pray to the heavens that he’s not dreaming this.

"Fuck." Your head falls forward, forehead resting on his shoulder as you giggle softly in his arms and plant a chaste kiss on top of the mark you left in his skin that is already starting to bruise. "That was— fuck."

“Much better than the wedding reception.” He pants in agreement and chuckles. His own eyes close and he sighs softly, relaxing against the rock and just letting the moment linger between the two of you.

"Hell yes." There isn't a moment's doubt about it in your mind, and you let yourself rest against his chest comfortably without untangling your legs from his waist. You have no desire to leave his arms yet.

The sounds of the surrounding land starts to bleed through. The sounds of cicadas and frogs start to make a music that had soothed Steve throughout his childhood. It's like reality intrudes on both of you all at once, and your head pops up with dismay painted across your features. "Aw shit," you groan, not at all in the same way you were just groaning for him a few minutes ago. "It's...it's dark. There's no way I didn't miss curfew at the boarding house."

Steve snorts and chuckles at the fact that you did just miss curfew, for reasons that would make the old lady’s hair go even whiter than it already is. “Sounds like you’re disappointed to have stayed.” He teases, enjoying the fact that you are still on his cock.

"No." You shake your head and nuzzle into his neck a little bit more. "Just worried Mrs. Robeline will have my things out in the yard when I get back tomorrow. I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

“She won’t.” Steve assures you, reaching up and stroking your back above the water line. “I’ll give her call when we get back to the house. Tell her it was my fault for letting the time get away from me.”

"Do you have every lady in town wrapped around your little finger?" It wouldn't surprise you in the least if he did, considering you definitely see yourself there right about now.

“Nah.” He drawls, giving you an only slightly cocky smirk. “But considerin’ she knows I’m gonna be a sheriff’s deputy, I think she’ll let you slide.”

"It will be a lecture over breakfast instead." The thought makes you giggle, that post coital bliss coursing through your veins making it seem silly rather than the serious misstep it might otherwise be. "And I'll be hounded with questions about our intentions that she has no right to demand answers to." A deep, and deeply satisfied, sigh passes your lips as you pull back to look at him again. "Small towns are all the same."

“I’ll tell her that you’re sleepin’ in Tater’s room.” He chuckles and leans in to kiss you again as his softening cock slips out of you. “She’ll be quiet as a church mouse then.”

"Genius." You hum against his lips and groan slightly in protest when the two of you come untangled from each other. "But you're gonna have to button that uniform all the way up...I left you a little souvenir that I hope you'll like."

“I felt it.” He reaches up and rubs his neck with a grin. “It seems like a fair trade to me.”

"I'll climb out the window in the morning so your parents don't catch us," you tease. Separating in the cooling water makes you pout, but you'll have to climb out and dry off to get dressed eventually.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “I think my parents have figured out I’m not a virgin anymore.” That ship sailed long ago, but he has never brought a woman home beyond Connie.

“I was thinking of preserving us from prying question,” you tell him honestly as the two of you lift yourselves out of the water. “But if you think they won’t mind?” You shrug. “Well, you know your folks better than me.”

"After tonight?" He tosses you a grin and hands you the panties you were wearing as he scoops up some clothes. "I'm sure everyone is going to be sleeping in come the morning." He predicts, knowing how sometimes the after parties last longer than the real receptions. Especially if they break out the 'shine.

Thanks for making the day more fun.” It’s a silly sentiment, but you fluster slightly trying to dry off before you can put on your borrowed dress again.

“I think I should be thanking you.” Steve chuckles and pulls his briefs on. “Not sure if this was quite the town welcome you were expecting.”

“Not at all.” The very idea of it makes you grin as you finally pull your dress over your head. “But I doubt it’s what you expected for a homecoming, too.”

“So much better.” He huffs, rolling his eyes as he imagines all the questions he dodged.

“We should get out of here.” Nodding toward where his truck is parked, you easily lean into his side when he lifts his arm to offer you a spot. “Somebody’s sure to have heard us.”

“Half the parish.” He teases, feeling lighter and happier than he has in a long time. It’s not just the sex, it’s getting out of his own head, and he appreciates it. Turning his head, he kisses your temple affectionately as if you had received thousands of kisses from him. “We’ll go crawl in a bed and I know I’ll sleep good tonight.”

“I will, too.” With your heels dangling from your fingers, you keep in line with his strides and climb into his truck when he opens the door for you. It’s comforting to know this was more than just a quick fuck for him - even if it doesn’t turn out to be more than one night, he is still kind enough to give you a place to sleep instead of just dropping you off at the boarding house and telling you good luck. Or worse, stranding you at the swimming hole.

******

The ride back from the swimming hole is quiet, but not in an awkward sense. The radio hums, turned down to a low volume, and provides a backdrop for the occasional creak of the truck over pot holes and ruts as Steve drives slowly with the windows down. The summer night cools down, air blowing across his damp skin and through his hair, making him relax even more.

His house is quiet when you arrive but the party is still raging next door. The only sign of life at the Murphy home is his father asleep in the La-Z-Boy in the living room, and you stifle a laugh at the sight. Your own father would be exactly the same way.

Noticing your grin, Steve leans in close. “Don’t knock it until you try it. Those chairs are comfortable.”

“I was just thinking that my dad would be in exactly the same position,” you whisper, letting him lead you through the house. His overlarge hand around yours is warm and comforting and you don’t want to let go for anything.

"I think once you have kids, it becomes a universal right of passage to fall asleep in a chair at any point, any time.” He jokes, remembering how Connie would come home and Olivia would be passed out on his shoulder, and he was right there with her.

That makes you pause, and you look back at him curiously. “D—do you? Have kids? I…never thought to ask.”

"I did – do, I guess." He sighs. "We adopted a little girl in Colombia. Escobar's sicarios had killed her mother." He explains, not willing to talk about Connie's struggle with fertility. "My ex demanded sole custody and I wasn't in a place to fight it."

“I’m so sorry.” Squeezing his hand gently, you end up pulling him into a hug after a moment that he returns easily. “I’m sorry you don’t get to see your daughter. That can’t be easy.”

Steve sighs and tucks his head into your neck for a moment, savoring the feeling of someone caring. Someone who was not obligated to. "It's for the best. I wasn't— it was rough in Colombia." He knows he made mistakes as well; it wasn't just Connie deciding she wanted a divorce. He had changed and some of those changes weren't pretty. "I will wait until she's older and see if Connie will change her mind."

“If you ever want to talk about it…” you let the sentence trail off, softly stroking his back as he holds onto you. “No pressure. But I’m a pretty good listener.”

"Thanks." He pulls back and gives you a small smile. "Let’s get upstairs before Dad wakes himself up snoring."

******

His old double bed looks like it will barely fit the two of you when you gently shut his bedroom door behind you, but you offer him a grin. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle.”

"It'll be a tight fit, but we don't have to worry about falling off." He jokes, one side of the bed shoved up against the wall. "Hopefully you don't roll?"

"I'm pretty much a rock." Taking off the dress once more is much easier, and you hang it carefully on the back of his desk chair to keep it from wrinkling too badly. "Once I'm out, I don't move again until morning."

He chuckles quietly and strips out of his own clothes, more careless with them than you are. Although he does have the luxury of having something else to wear tomorrow. "Do you mind taking the inside of the bed?" He doesn't want to make it a thing, but he would prefer to sleep next to the door.

"Don't want to be stuck between a rock and a hard place?" You can't resist the joke, and grin at him as you climb under the covers to shimmy across the mattress.

He snorts and shakes his head. "Habit." He admits, blushing slightly. "Closest to the door..." Closest to the danger is the unspoken part.

"Doesn't make a bit of difference to me." Settled in with your head on one of his pillows, you pat the space next to you softly. "Just as long as you're joining me."

He snorts and nods. "Of course." He huffs playfully. "It's my bed after all." He lifts the covers and slides in beside you, settling on his side and wondering if he can put his arms around you.

Noting his obvious hesitation, you nestle yourself right into his chest and put one arm around his waist to draw him close. After what happened an hour ago? You're not inclined to be shy about something as innocent as sleeping. "It's gonna be a long night if you don't want to cuddle."

With that invitation, Steve melts into you and presses himself up against you with his leg sliding between yours.

"Hmmm," you sigh in utter contentment and lay your head on his chest, letting him draw you in as closely as he pleases. "G'night, Steve."

"G'night gorgeous." He breathes out softly, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep peacefully. There's no mistaking it, as the two of you snuggle tightly into each others' arms: this really might be the best second chance you ever could have gotten.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom

Steve Tags: @pedropascalsx @ithinkwehitametaphor @justafleshwoundbaby @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook

#Boyd Holbrook #Boyd Holbrook fanfic #Steve Murphy #Steve Murphy x reader #Steve Murphy x you #Steve Murphy x female reader #Narcos #Steel Magnolias Au #tw divorce #I just love Steve a lot #And want to give him all the nice things

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milla-frenchy · 9 months

Text

3k2 | Steve Murphy x fem reader x Javier Peña Summary: two DEA agents come to your apartment to extract information from you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dark. Noncon/dubcon Degradation, dacryphilia, threesome, oral (f/m), whiskey bottle, choking, spitting, slapping, pussy slapping, spanking, unprotected piv, light rimming, creampies. No age specified a/n: @toxicanonymity this is for you 🖤 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for everything 💕🫶 The title is from some lyrics of Tear you apart by She wants revenge

ao3 | masterlist

You were used to being afraid during your work. Sometimes, you were afraid in the streets of Bogota, on your way home. But you had never been afraid at home. It was your sanctuary, a safe place, where what you had to do with your clients didn’t interfere.

When you opened your door and removed the key from the lock, you were just thinking about the evening you were going to spend, in peace, even though it was already late at night. Until you saw a silhouette of a man, sitting at your dining room table. In fear, you screamed and turned towards the door, thinking of escaping. But the door closed before you reached it, and a second figure, previously hidden behind the open door, appeared. You stopped in your tracks, transfixed, wondering what was happening.

The second man turned on the light. He was blond, with a mustache. A leather jacket and jeans. His gun was sticking out of the front of his pants, and you recognized him. A DEA agent, who sometimes hung out near the brothel where you worked. You've heard his name before, Murphy. Steve, as far as you remembered. And now you had little doubt about the identity of the other man, as they were always together when you saw them. Javier Peña. You turned towards him anyway, and his piercing black gaze was fixed on you. You saw his tongue press against his upper lip as he looked you over from head to toe. They had fucked some of the girls at the brothel before, but never you.

Your mind was racing. Two DEA agents who broke into your apartment. You didn't use, you didn't have anything at home that could get you in trouble with the DEA. So whatever they were looking for, it was in vain.

“What are you doing at my place?” you dared to ask, putting on a confident voice.

Steve tilted his head to the side and smiled, before coming to sit across from his coworker, and putting his feet on the table.

“Uh, excuse me? What the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“We want information, cariño. You give it to us, and we leave. Simple as that,” Peña said.

“I don’t do drugs. I don’t know who gave you my name, but your source is crap.”

Peña turned to Murphy and they smiled at each other.

“She’s cute”, Steve said.

“Get the fuck out of here now,” you barked, before walking towards the door. You didn't have time to realize what was happening before one of them stood up, grabbed one of your arms with one hand, and your throat with the other. He pushed you against the wall and whispered in your ear “you ain’t going anywhere, baby.”

Eyes wide, you said “what the fuck?”, and looked up at Steve’s face, inches from yours. What scared you the most wasn't his hands on you. It was his eyes. They were icy and unempathetic, and you felt your hairs stand up.

“Come on, Steve. Be nice. Don’t scare her,” Javi sneered.

Steve smiled, in a too carnal way to reassure you, and released you before going to lean against the table. You rubbed your wrist and your mind was racing at 100 miles per hour trying to understand what they were doing there, what they wanted from you.

Javi got up and approached you, and even though you wanted to step back towards the wall, you didn't want to feed them with your fear. So you didn’t move.

“So, cariño. Like I said, we need information. About your side activities with Escobar guys.”

Fuck, how do they know? you thought.

“I don’t know-”

You didn't have time to finish your sentence, when Javi slapped you. You put your hand to your cheek, and this time you no longer held back the fear that twisted your stomach.

“Don’t offend me, cariño. You’re starting to piss me off.”

You lowered your head, heart racing.

“If I tell you about it, I’m dead”, you murmured.

“Well… if you don’t tell us, you’re dead too,” Steve replied with a smirk.

“Yeah? Well you can shoot me then, let’s get it over with.” A surge of courage, or stupidity, pushed you to answer them before you had time to think about it.

Javi slapped you again, with the back of his hand, and your head spun. You heard Steve say “wooooooo”, giggling, as if Javi's attitude announced the start of a good time.

“Stop it, please,” you begged. You looked at them, your eyes now full of tears, and Javi told you, “oh baby… if I were you, I’d dry those tears. It turns Steve on.”

“W…what?”

“Well… I have no doubt you’ll tell us what we wanna know. But I have doubts about the state of you, when we leave.”

You heard Steve laugh again. Javi moved closer to you, his face inches from yours. He smelled of cigarettes and cologne. You had the feeling that you could never forget this scent.

“Tell us about Blackie.”

You shook your head.

"No?" Javi said. “Mmmm ok. El León? La Quica?”

You lowered your head even more.

"No? Tell us about Gacha, then.”

You took a step back, and Steve said, “Well, well. Seems like someone knows that asshole”.

“Please”, you begged. “He’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, well… That’s the problem with dealing with bad guys. Lucky for you, we’re good guys.”

“What do you wanna know”, you murmured.

“How does this bastard fuck? I’m curious,” Steve asked, and Javi chuckled before stepping aside to let Steve approach.

“You know what, baby? I think we should compare. We should fuck you too, and you’ll tell us who’s doing it better, between him and us.”

Tears came to your eyes again, and Steve added, “Oh, baby. You should have listened to my partner. Tears turn me on.”

He pressed himself against you, his bulge against your pussy, covered only by your panties and a short dress. And damn, he was hard.

“Ok baby, I’ll tell you what. We’re gonna fuck you, and you’ll tell us what we wanna know. If you’re a good girl, we will try not to damage you too much. What do you think about that?"

Without waiting for your answer, he turned to Javi, and said, “That seems like a reasonable offer, right?”

“Shit, yeah. Couldn’t be nicer.” He took off his leather jacket and placed it on the back of the chair, as if what was happening right now was the most natural thing in the world.

Steve turned to you again and saw your eyes lost in the void. A tear running down your cheek. Taking your chin in his hand, he turned your face to the side, before licking away your tear.

“Delicious”, he smirked. “I wonder if your pussy tastes as good.”

He readjusted the bulge in his jeans.

“Ok baby, all this seduction was nice, but we gotta get our dicks wet. How do you wanna fuck this one, Javi?”

“Wanna bang her a little on the table. Wanna see if her pussy’s worth it. Tight enough to feel something when I fuck it, with all the cocks she took, you know?”

“Ok baby, you heard the agent? Go bend over, and spread those legs.”

You tried to get out of his grip, but of course he was too strong for you. He grabbed your forearms and pulled you towards the table, before pushing you forward against it. Javi positioned himself behind you and kicked one of your legs apart before pulling your dress up to your waist. He held your chest pressed against the table with one hand, while with the other he unzipped his jeans and took out his cock. He brushed it against your folds after tearing your panties.

“She wet?”, Steve asked.

“Not yet. She will be. Come on cariño, imagine I’m one of your clients. But instead of getting paid, you stay alive. And you get a good fuck by two fat cocks.”

He rubbed the head of his cock along your folds, and you could feel it was long and thick.

“Come on cariño, don’t wanna tear you apart.” He leaned into you, his torso pressed against your back, and grabbed your hair in his fist. “Don’t play shy, tonight you’ll gladly bounce on our cocks, I promise.” He was still sliding his cock against you, gently, and you felt your body react. And somehow, you were grateful for it.

“That’s it, soak me. This pussy wanna get fucked. And you know it”, he said in your ear, as he now pressed his cock at your entrance, pushing it in slightly. Steve walked over to the table and looked at you, your cheek pressed against the wood.

“That’s it, baby, be a good girl”, he said.

Javi thrusted in slowly, spreading your walls.

“Oh fuck, she’s tight”, he growled.

Steve caressed your cheek, and mocked “oh baby… No more tears for me? The slut’s starting to enjoy this, Javi.” He readjusted himself again.

“Of course she does. What’s better than a big cock in a tight pussy?”

He was fucking you slowly, giving your pussy time to get used to his size, his fist still clenching your hair. You heard him breathing loudly against your ear and you couldn’t help but get turned on by the way he was fucking you. He was good at it. Much better than most of your clients. And for the moment, you didn't even think about Gacha anymore, and what they expected from you.

He pulled out of you slowly, and said “ok, your turn Steve. Taste that cunt, man.”

Steve grabbed your arm and turned you around, your ass on the edge of the table.

“Lie still, baby.”

He spread your legs and told Javi “fuck, look at that. The whore’s drippin’.”

He knelt down and dove between your thighs, spreading your folds with his hands, his tongue lapping from your hole to your clit.

“Spread them more for me, baby. Put your feet on the table.”

You were turned on, and you did as he said, not even trying to fight anymore. His tongue now buried in your pussy, you heard him moan and you guessed from the friction of his shoulder against you that he was jerking off. You tried to stop yourself from grabbing his head in your hands to press him against you, not realizing that you were undulating your hips to the rhythm of his tongue.

“She’s fucking moaning... Come on cariño, moan on my cock now”, Javi urged you, pressing his cock against your lips. You opened them without thinking, letting him sink into your mouth. You felt your taste on him, mixed with his precum, and fuck, that was good.

Steve's tongue left your hole and moved up to your clit, placing his lips around it and circling around with the tip of his tongue. He released his cock and pushed two fingers into your pussy. You were so wet that he immediately added a third, making you groan against Javi’s cock.

“Make her come”, he said. “Wanna fuck that cunt again.”

When you came on Steve's tongue, Javi pushed himself all the way down your throat and held you against him until your moans stopped, making you choke on it, praising you with some “there it is, look at that… cuming on your tongue and choking on my cock.” You caught your breath with relief when he pulled out. Just before getting up, Steve slapped your pussy, making you jump, and spat on your clit, running his thumb over it one last time. The overstimulation made you shiver.

Javi settled himself between your thighs, and he rested his cock against your folds, his balls against the groove of your ass.

“You’re soaked. You get off like that when Gacha’s fucking you?”

He slid his shaft against your folds, waiting for your response. Seeing that you didn't answer, he slapped your clit, making you gasp.

“No! Fuck… No I don’t.”

“Tell me, cariño, why is that? He got a small dick?”

You sighed, and replied “yeah.”

“Mmm, I was sure of it. You got to have a small dick to need to compensate with a fucking bazooka.” He sank in one go, hitting the bottom, and you said “oh god!”. His hands tight on your thighs, he fucked you quickly, not giving you time to get used to it. Steve came over and asked if you had any whiskey.

“What?”

“Whiskey??”

“The fuck…. in the kitchen cabinet.”

He brought the bottle back and took a sip from the neck before spilling some on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of Javi’s hips. This made him laugh, and Javi leaned down to lick your alcohol covered tits, buried deep in your pussy, before fucking you again. You had difficulty resisting the urge to slide your fingers through his brown curls.

“Give me that bottle, Steve. And maybe we should handcuff her.”

“Nah… I like it when they fight a little.”

Javi snickered as he grabbed the bottle, and again you felt fear grip you. Why would they handcuff you? He took a sip too, before pulling out of you. “I think we can make this cheap whiskey taste better,” he said, then pressed the bottle against your entrance.

“No! No, wait!!!”

"Shut up. If you can take my cock, you can take it. For your safety I’ll be gentle.” You heard Steve laugh, as Javi pushed it in, while rotating your clit under his thumb.

“No, please, stop it!”

You didn't see the slap coming. Just heard the thud, and felt your cheek burn.

“Shut up,” he said, “Don’t make us repeat it.”

Just after slapping you, Steve grabbed your wrists in his hands, and positioned himself behind your head, on the other side of the table, facing Javi.

“Fuck her with it, Javi, I’ve got her.”

Javi slid the bottle further, continuing to stroke your clit with his thumb.

“Come on, cariño. Squeeze that bottle, cum on it. I know you can do it.”

You had encountered perverted clients before, but never to the point where they wanted to fuck you with a bottle. Despite the worry that he might hurt you, you forced yourself to relax, to make it easier. His thumb was helping you, too.

“Open your mouth, baby”, asked Steve.

You opened, and he spit in it. “Good girl,” he said, stroking your chin as you swallowed his saliva.

“How is she takin’ it?”

“Like a pro,” Javi laughed, and added, “well, she is, right?”

He tilted the bottle to pour some whiskey into your pussy, before removing it and sticking his tongue in your core, drinking the mixture of alcohol and wetness. The taste on his tongue was driving him crazy.

“Oh my god…Fuck”, you stammered. He kept licking, thirsty, starved, going down to your ass, where the whiskey had spilled.

Then he slid back the bottle in you, his thumb back on your clit, and you felt a new orgasm coming, already built by his tongue. You didn’t even try to hold it back, letting Javi’s thumb work your clit until you came all over the bottle.

“Fuck, look at that Steve! The whore is filling the bottle!”

He removed the bottle and took a sip, then passed it to Steve. He licked it before placing the bottle against his lips and drinking from it too.

“Way cheaper, thanks, baby,” he added, patting your cheek.

The degradation made you blush.

“Okay, remember I told you that soon you’d be bouncing on our cocks? Couch, now.” Javi grabbed your arm and led you to the couch where he sat down.

“Ride me. Wanna fill that pussy.”

You straddled him and took his cock in your hand, before gently impaling yourself on it.

“Oh fuck,” you said.

“Stop whining. Bounce on it now,” he said, and spanked you.

Your hands placed on his shoulders for support, you sank onto his cock, helped by his hands gripping your buttocks with each movement, then let you fall on his dick. Each time, he hit the bottom, and the pleasure mixed with the pain of his cock sinking too far.

Steve walked over, cock in his hand, and said, “time to fuck that mouth, baby.”

You slowed down the pace on Javi's cock so you could take Steve in your mouth, undulating your hips against Javi, and rubbing your clit against him.

Steve slid his cock into your mouth. It was slightly thicker than Javi’s, and your lips were barely able to take him in. You looked up at him as you let him set his pace. His icy gaze hadn't completely disappeared, and you told yourself that this man would be capable of destroying you while smiling, if he decided.

“Fuck, what a sight,” Javi said. “You’re pretty, cariño. I can't believe you let a guy like Gacha fuck you. Such a waste."

Your clit was still rubbing against Javi, and you came the third time, squeezing his cock with each spasm, your mouth full of Steve’s shaft.

“Fuck… this cunt’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard… ah fuck!!” he spilled his cum in you, while your walls were still contracting. You had barely finished cumming when Steve pulled out of your mouth and grabbed your arm, dragging you to the table and bending you over it.

“Now, be good and take it”, he said, thrusting in immediately, in a slow powerful push, hands digging into your hips.

“Oh fuck you’re right, she’s so tight. You often get fucked by two guys?”

“No.. No I don’t.”

“That’s… fuck… a fuckin’… shame.”

He cut off each word with a movement of his hips where he thrusted into you ever harder.

“There’s nothing better than the feeling of a pussy already filled with cum.” He grunted every time he hit the bottom, and you were barely able to keep yourself on the table. Each thrust threw you forward, and each time he gripped harder to thrust deeper in your pussy.

You had difficulty standing on your legs, the feeling of being reduced to a doll was amplified by your weak legs, like cotton.

He forced you to turn your head to the side to look at him and said “look at me, baby. You look at me when I’m ruining your cunt.”

You tried to hold on to the edge of the table to control the movements as much as possible but he didn't give you any respite, pounding your pussy incessantly.

“Gonna fill you too…Shit. Gonna fill that fuckin’ slut cunt.”

He grunted, and thrusted in one last time, freezing deep inside your pussy, and you felt warm trickles of cum lining your walls. You finally relaxed against the table, waiting for him to finish cumming, releasing the pressure of your fingers on the wood.

He pulled out, spanked you and chuckled. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took another sip before passing it to Javi who had moved closer to the table. He then handed it to you, saying, “drink, cariño.”

“You’re fuckin’ twisted....”

You drank, and they laughed.

“Okay, baby. It was fun. Now tell us about Gacha. Give us all the info. Unless you want a second round? We didn’t fuck you with our guns, yet,” Steve said, grabbing his revolver.

His icy gaze was back.

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

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

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aurorawritestoescape · 1 year

Text

Masterlist

All fics are explicit! minors dni!🔞

Series / Collections

BAD BLOOD - step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help

*****

KISS KISS BANG BANG - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (bank robbers AU)

Summary: Joel and you live a life full of risk, thrill and danger. Every day can be your last, so you savour every kiss and enjoy each other to the fullest. Can you survive this journey to your dreams?

*****

PERFECT STRANGERS - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: What would you do if you met a perfect stranger? Someone who understands what you've hidden deep inside your soul. The attraction is instant. It's perfect. What if you don't want to be strangers anymore?

*****

HEATWAVE collection - Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: They are horny. They are filthy. They are in love.

It’s a collection of one-shots following the same couple. Every story can be read alone.

One Shots

Hot shower -pre-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader pwp

Strawberries and cream- no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG

Sweet remedy - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG

A Villain’s Monologue - serial killer!Joel Miller x f!reader dark fic

The Helping Hand - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader somno

Keep On Your Mean Side - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (written with @milla-frenchy) dark fic

Birthday Surprise - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller mfm

Jacket -no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader fluff

The Burglary - burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dddne, non-con

Flasher - flasher!Joel Miller x f!reader exhibitionism

Flower - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader dead dove, dark fic

Bad Girl - Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dubcon

Morning Bliss - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader smut, fluff

Cockwarming Joel - blurb

Feed Me - Joel x f!reader pwp

His - dark!Joel x f!reader x dark!Tommy x m!OCs DDDNE NON CON

Always and Forever - post outbreak Joel x f!reader angst

Ribbon - Joel x f!reader pwp

Good Girl - Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

American Beauty -best friend’s dad Joel x f!reader part 2 Please, Sir

Take Me smut, angst

Swallow blurb, smut

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York mfm

Pt 1 Table for three Pt 2 Who’s your daddy? drabble Get a Taste

I know better than to call you mine fluff, smut

Heatwave pwp

Sweet Cherry virginity loss

In His Arms QZ Joel

✨Hot for You - drabble

✨Fill Me Up

✨Going Down - Joel x reader, Frankie Morales x reader

The Party - dark!Lucien Flores x f!reader non con

The Beast Within- dark!Ezra x f!reader dark fic

One shots

The Visit semi-public

Surveillance voyeurism

Drabble based on a gif

Shaving Javi drabble

Steam

Series

The Hounds of Hell - Javi x f!reader x Steve written with @milla-frenchy

Summary: you meet two DEA agents in a bar. You drink too much and they offer to take you home.

Watching You - Dave York x f!reader voyeurism

After Watching you - drabble

Flat line - dark!Dave York x f!reader dark, noncon

Table for three - Dave x reader x Joel mfm

The Devil in Me - devil!Dieter Bravo x actress! reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

Other Pedro characters

Addicted - Max Phillips x f!reader smut, angst

Destinies Intertwined - General Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucilla mff

The Hoodie - Frankie Morales x reader blurb

Going Down - Frankie x f!reader, Joel x f!reader

Non Pedro characters

Sunset - boyfriend Billy (Skeleton Twins) x f!reader Boyd Holbrook character, smut

AO3 /not all fics are there

Fanart

Joel Miller pencil drawing

I saved her the last of us 2 edit

Pedro Pascal lockscreens 1 | 2 | 3

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strawberrysunsets · 9 months

Text

The Empty World (Ch. 10)

Donald Pierce x fReader

Status: Ongoing

Summary: Pierce and the Reavers are sent to capture a mutant with mysterious abilities. This chapter: The mutant sets out on their first assignment for Transigen, amid mounting tension with the Reavers.

Warnings: Swearing, injuries, mention of cannon death, mention of cannon torture, mention of cannon suicide, manipulation.

Angst, slow burn, enemies to lovers

Author's Note: Hiiiii yes tis I another six months later lol hope you enjoy💓

It was late when you woke the next day. The alarm clock by your bed flashed red digits– 3:00pm – and you only had a moment to float in the thoughtless peace of waking before a knot of anxiety settled in your stomach.

While last night’s encounter with Pierce was still fresh in your mind – a little thrill of revulsion dancing through you at the thought – it wasn’t the cause for your nerves. Nor was it the constant worry over whether Laura and the other mutants were safe. No; the adrenaline mounting in your system as you stumbled to the bathroom to brush your teeth was solely a result of the fact that after a week of waiting, and briefing, and training your injured shoulder back into shape, the day of your assignment had finally arrived.

You washed your face, drying it with a hand towel before dressing in the uniform you’d laid out the day before.

You hadn’t lasted long in high school before taking to the road, but you remembered the feeling of walking into a room to take a test you knew you weren’t prepared for. This was something like that. Except you were surrounded by literal enemies, here – not just the disapproving gazes of teachers – and the stakes of this test were life and death. If you failed this assignment, would Transigen even bother keeping to your deal? Or would they decide you were of more use to them chained to a table in a lab than out in the field?

…and if you succeeded? You’d tried not to think about it. But how many lives might suffer the consequences of Zenith Lab’s scientist falling into Transigen’s hands?

You found yourself gripping the edge of the table by your window, your knuckles turning white as you stared emptily out at the view before you. The empty lot, where last night, you'd confronted Pierce. You turned away, massaging your temples. It was an exercise in futility, trying to predict the possible outcomes of your actions. For now, only one thing was certain: as long as you worked for Transigen, Laura and the others were safe. Or as safe as you could make them. And they'd been through enough. You squeezed your eyes shut against the barrage of horrible images your mind threatened to dredge up from Gabriela's video. You had to focus.

Your mission was simple.

The target was Zenith Lab’s complex, a skyscraper in the downtown core of Mexico City with a security system designed specifically to keep intruders like Transigen’s agents out. So, for the Reavers to gain entry to the building, that security system had to be disabled. There was only one issue: the security hub lay on the high rise’s twenty-seventh floor, and no aircraft could deploy an air team to reach it without being detected by the lab’s scanners. Something smaller, though–say, a winged mutant–wouldn’t trip those sensors. There was a reason Clark, the security coordinator, had had you memorizing floor plans for a week.

It would be up to you to take out the security mainframe, allowing the Reavers access to the building.

Seeing as I’m carrying this whole damn plan on my shoulders, you thought, sifting through the equipment you’d acquired from the recon manager– you’d think this job would at least come with dental. But no; just the slim promise of freedom for Laura and the other mutants, and an even slimmer paycheck.

You pulled on the bullet proof vest and slotted the taser into its holster at your hip–silently glad they’d only given you nonlethal means of disarming the guards–then examined the final item in your kit. It was an armpiece, meant to be worn like a cuff around your bicep. Upon turning it over, the only identifying information you could find were a barcode and manufacturer’s label, and you scrutinized it for a moment before putting it on.

A tracker? To make sure you stayed on course? It seemed superfluous, since you weren’t going anywhere with Transigen’s threat looming over Laura and the others. And since Clark had said you’d be out of radio contact until you’d disabled the mainframe to avoid detection, it couldn’t be a transmitter of any sort. What, then?

You mulled over the question as you made your way through the lab’s stark hallways, even as you mentally reviewed the stages of tonight’s plan. Fly to Zenith Labs. Break in through the roof door, which would be locked but unguarded, then take out whatever skeleton staff were on the nightshift at the security hub. Finally, meet Pierce and his Reavers as they executed the rest of the plan, and get the hell out of dodge.

Simple, if not exactly easy.

The rest of the late day passed in the same gray blur as all your days at Transigen, different only because of your mounting anxiety.

Nightfall found you in the lobby as a Reaver named ‘Kills’ dispersed earpieces to Reavers who waited impatiently by the door or cracked jokes in groups along the walls. There were less than a dozen in total; all the same rough, macho-sadist types who seemed drawn to the Reaver corps like moths to a flame. You stood out amongst them like a sore thumb, even as you tried to make yourself invisible. It would've been hard enough to keep a low profile as the only non leather-wearing, gun-toting one among them, let alone the only woman, mutant, and goddamn avian. As it was, you tried to look as cold and disinterested as possible in order to repulse their attention. Pierce hadn’t yet appeared, and it was with a mixture of dread and anticipation that you thought of running into him tonight.

Finally the Reavers began moving towards the lab’s doors, and you followed them out, the night air quickly snapping everything into hyperfocus.

It was a warm, humid night, and the sounds of the city felt alien to you after days in the quiet sterility of the lab. It felt like ages since you’d last walked a city’s streets, and been a part of that noise. Some part of you wondered if you ever would again.

Three black trucks were parked in a line down the lab’s drive, and the Reavers were moving around them and climbing inside. Someone directed you towards one, and you climbed inside, pulling your wings in tight to avoid brushing the doors.

There were five Reavers already inside the truck, and all glanced up as you entered, save the man typing away on a laptop. Their faces were cold and dispassionate, but beneath that mask, you recognized a plethora of emotions. Disgust. Hatred. Malicious interest. Once again, your instincts told you to run –that this was a tiger’s cage, and you were a fool for stepping into it.

But these assholes aren’t hunting me anymore, you thought to yourself, forcefully. They already won. I’m here by choice.

The truck’s door slid shut behind you, and you set your jaw. Go figures the actual mission would be the least of your problems tonight. These men seemed primed for a fight, and you could feel their sights quickly settling on you.

“You can sit down here, doll,” a man with a thick bullet-proof vest and an abundance of side holsters said, grinning as he nodded to his lap. “C’mon over.”

You glared at him, and lowered yourself into the nearest empty seat. “I’d rather not catch whatever brain-eating disease you have,” you snapped back, “thanks.”

“Damned if we gotta work with a fucking mutey,” one of the other men muttered, clicking his gun into its holster emphatically.

“Hey, she’s on our side, now!” Another laughed. He had stubbled cheeks and a purple bandana tied around his neck. “Gonna help us take out her own kind, just like that albino traitor,” he taunted lazily. “Ain’t that right, girl?”

A hot flush of anger overtook you, along with a sudden sense of claustrophobia at the van’s tight quarters. They don’t get to fucking mention Caliban. For a moment there was a loud buzzing in your ears, and a tide of memories and pain threatened to overwhelm you. Then you shoved the thoughts of Caliban back behind their wall , and turned on the Reavers.

“We’re not hunting mutants tonight, piss-brain,” you shot back at the man with the bandana. “Did you miss the briefing? I know reading comprehension is above your paygrade, but it’s a fucking scientist you’re after.”

It felt good to see the man’s gaze darken. “Guess that depends if we find any,” he replied, lip curling in a humorless smile. “Who knows what they’re hiding up there?” He leaned towards you conspiratorially, revealing the line of tattoos that stretched down his neck below the bandana. “Me, I'm hope there’s a few mutts,” his smile grew colder, and his eyes raked over your face in search of a reaction. “It’d be nice to have a little target practice.”

Heat prickled down your spine, and you didn’t break his gaze. You weren’t going to be baited by this asshole.

One of the other men–the bald one–was smiling, too; the same lazy malice written on his face as he watched you. “It has been a while since we got some hunting in,” he agreed. “Heard those kids gave quite the chase. But I’m sure ol’ Wolvey took the cake.”

Your skin flushed hotter before you could get a handle on yourself.

“How many shots did he take before he went down?” The bald man continued, turning to the other quizzically as bandana-man pursed his lips in thought. “Fuck, gotta be two-dozen?” He smiled, turning his gaze back to you as he let out a low whistle.

The tension in the truck was thick as tar, and finally even the man on the laptop looked up, glancing between you and the Reavers.

The buzzing in your mind felt like it was growing louder, like a freight train overtaking you; and all at once, the hot, prickling sensation on your skin resolved itself into something familiar. Something like crackling energy, and an awful golden light lurking just beyond your fingertips.

The blood drained from your face.

“You know ‘bout that, feathers?” The first man was asking, leaning forward as if in earnest. “Naw, she wasn’t there,” the other Reaver replied. “Missed the whole thing! Gotta tell her about it.”

What would happen if your powers returned, here and now? If your Ether flared inside this truck?

You had no idea, but you doubted there’d be any survivors.

And would that be so bad? Some dark part of you whispered, lulling you towards the crackling energy. To end this awful game, and go out with a fucking bang? To take some of these assholes with you?

Some distant, reasonable part of you was shouting for your attention, but far nearer was the forgefire of everything you’d shoved behind a wall in your mind. It was rage, and fear, and months of unprocessed grief–and that dam wasn’t going to hold forever.

Somewhere outside the truck, there were voices, and engines revving–but they seemed far away compared to the dark, taunting eyes of the men before you. One little slip, one burst of energy–and they’d be gone, and you’d be gone from this place.

The stillness of the truck was shattered as the front passenger door swung open, and a familiar figure climbed inside, blond hair tousled from the wind. The man with the bandana leaned back in his seat, breaking eye contact, and the bald man smiled sardonically as he shifted away, too.

“Boys,” Pierce greeted, his gaze roving over the Reavers before settling on you. “Playin’ nicely?”

The heat was high in your cheeks, and the buzzing in your mind still grappled for your attention as you tried to regain control. Now’s not the time to lose it, you told yourself, trying to shove the energy back behind its wall. Not with so much on the line. You couldn’t be so selfish.

You could feel Pierce’s gaze on you, and from the corner of your eye you saw when the man on the computer glanced up, briefly locking eyes with Pierce as they seemed to exchange some sort of information. Pierce sat back in his seat, sighed once through his nose, then swung back out of the truck. You barely registered it when he appeared at your side door, sliding it open and taking hold of your arm as he pulled you back out into the night.

Too surprised to resist, you landed on the sidewalk, and he shoved the door shut behind you, suddenly cutting you off from the scene within.

“What are you doing?” You asked dumbly, slowly returning to yourself as he shepherded you down the walkway. Pierce only snorted, directing you towards one of the other trucks. “C’mon, baby,” he drawled, opening its door and herding you inside. “We're gonna ride recon.”

***

The inside of the recon truck was quiet as it rumbled through the city streets, lights and the occasional bright storefront flashing past outside. The radio played a late-night mexican station and the transceiver crackled with brief messages and replies from the convoy, while the man in the passenger seat watched what appeared to be a live feed from outside Zenith Labs.

They were headed to a drop point, from which you’d get airborn and make your way to the building while the Reavers followed from the ground.

Pierce was listening to the transceiver's chatter, judging by the tilt of his head, and idly adjusting one of the components of his mechanical arm as the driver wove the truck through the midnight streets. The Reaver Commander wore his usual fatigues, black t-shirt, and leather jacket; but now with the addition of a kevlar vest, and holsters on either side of his hips. He was ready for a fight; but then again, he always looked ready for a fight.

Finally, Pierce sighed.

“I spent plenty of time around soldiers,” he said conversationally, shifting back against the truck's netted wall. “After a while, you learn the look of someone who’s about to break.” He met your gaze briefly, knowingly, as he twisted the metal dial that was his forearm in a series of smooth clicks.

You looked away, trying not to think about what had happened with the Reavers in the other truck. How you’d almost lost control. So easily, so quickly–and still, how the energy behind your mind’s wall seemed agitated, like a pot of water on too high heat.

“Seen it happen,” Pierce continued. “Watched ‘em puke up their guts, or run for home…usually at the first fight, or first kill. First time facing bad odds,” he smiled drily. “And I wouldn’t care a whit about you going haywire on us,” he sighed, “except I seen what you can do when you break.”

That day on the overpass. A car wreck, and an explosion of swirling golden Ether.

You winced, and you could feel your usual composure eluding you. You knew that bits of your feelings were getting through; the shame. The anger. Fear. There was no stopping them. You swallowed, taking a deep breath. The least you could do was try to settle your stomach. There was a chance you might lose control and vaporize someone tonight, but you were not going to puke.

Pierce was unfazed, staring at you as he leaned back. “Thing is, baby-" His mouth curved in an unfeeling smile. “-there’s a whole lot of people riding on tonight’s little operation. So I'll thank you not to blow the whole thing sky-high before we even get started.”

“I’m not going to jeopardize your precious little kidnapping mission,” you snapped back. “I’m not going to break.”

There was a beat of silence, and you returned your gaze to the window as you ignored the hollowness of your own words.

In truth, you were relieved beyond measure that he’d pulled you away from the Reavers in that moment. You didn’t know what might have happened if you’d stayed, and didn’t want to consider it. Stupid, perceptive bastard. As it was, you still felt like your control was balancing on a knife’s edge–and the mission which that afternoon had felt impossible now felt like a death sentence. If you wanted to get through this, you couldn’t delve into your feelings. You had to do –not think. Not feel.

“I’m not going to break,” you breathed, repeating it more to yourself than anyone else. Pierce sighed through his nose, not bothering to argue the point, then leaned forward and tugged at one of the straps of your vest, unfastening it.

“Hey–” you jerked away in surprise. His lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes. “Let me help you, sugar. You done it up all wrong.”

Your breathing grew shallow as he leaned forward, his hands working deftly to pull the strap from its loop.

This close, his stature was even more intimidating than usual; your entire world taken up by his tall frame and thick arms. As if sensing your thoughts, Pierce smirked. His face was shadowed in the darkened car, but you could feel it. Asshole.

"Easy, baby. Can't have your gear on wrong, now, can we?"

His arms encircled you as he crossed the straps behind your back, and for a moment the warmth of his biceps pressed into your shoulders, and you could smell the musky, cheap scent of his aftershave. You turned your eyes skyward, ignoring the proximity of his neck and jaw, and tried to keep your thoughts from straying inevitably towards last night. Futilely. Your cheeks reddened.

Then he was before you once more, fastening the straps tightly; his face shadowed, though the flash of the streetlamps illuminated the skull and crossbones inked across his neck. You made a mental note to mention to him how tacky the tattoo was, as soon as you'd regained your focus. Right now, you were too distracted; torn somewhere between the vile, magnetic pull of him, and the unnervingness of his physicality. Even without his robotic arm, he was frighteningly strong-and exactly the wrong kind of person to wield that power.

Still, his proximity calmed a small part of you by some infinitesimal amount. For even after witnessing your near loss of control, Donald Pierce didn’t seem scared of you. And in some way, that helped you feel less scared of yourself. Even if his character tended to counteract that effect.

He finished with the vest, and you took a breath, nerves zinging as he leaned away.

“There you go, sweetheart. All good,” he said, half mocking.

You thought his assessment over, but then his gaze fell to your arm. You’d almost forgotten the armband, but Pierce reached forward to grip your bicep, turning it into his view. His hands were firm; clinical in their assessment, but still the smirk remained.

“No one told you how to put the damn thing on?” He asked, fiddling with something on the armband so that it clicked more firmly into place.

“I didn’t exactly get workplace training,” you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady and unbothered by your racing heart.

The truck was beginning to slow, finally, and you examined the sharp lines of his face in the halflight. “What is that thing, anyway?”

Pierce sat back, finally widening the space between you as he took his radio from the wall, slotting it into his belt.

“Technical,” he replied. “Keeps your gear from emitting frequencies scanners might pick up while you’re on the way in.”

You processed this information, idly straightening your shirt as the van rolled to a stop. Sometimes it was easy to forget that beyond the gun-obsessed, vaping, muscle-shirt wearing exterior, Pierce was smart. You'd worked as a mechanic, and were a dab hand at fixing basic wiring and the like-but Pierce was on another level. He'd designed his own mechanical arm out of advanced robotics, along with the enhancements on other Reavers-and seemed to have a disturbingly good understanding of things like energy signatures and transmissions. Power, in the worst possible hands.

You heard other engines cutting off outside, and Pierce leaned forwards, pulling open the truck's side door as the night wind rushed in. You climbed unsteadily out, wings flaring for balance as you found your footing on the rocky ground.

The place where the trucks had stopped appeared to be a dusty, dead-end road, slightly elevated from the rest of the city by a small hill. It was bordered on one side by a chainlink fence, and on the other by a grassy expanse which led down towards the roofs of some houses.

“Now, you do what you gotta do to hold up your end of the bargain tonight, sugar,” Pierce said, swinging out of the truck after you. “No room for anything else. We’re gonna be right behind you.” He grinned. “In spirit, if not in the flesh.”

The truck stopped across from you was the one from before, and as you watched, the Reavers from within climbed out to lean against the doors or hang from the windows. Purple bandana leaned against its side, while the bald man watched from the open door. His gaze was gloating, but you ignored it. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that they were all watching you-sizing you up; as if waiting for something.

Pierce leaned against the recon truck, his tall frame impossible to ignore at your back; and you realized what they were all waiting for.

You. Of course they were going to watch you take off; for you were a freak, and they had front row seats to the show.

A pang of anxiety shot through you at the thought. You'd always known how much the Reavers hated you; hated all mutants-but it was a different beast to feel it. This was truly what you were to them. An aberration; some strange, depraved mistake that nature made, and on which they had the chance to profit. You didn't feel confidant under their scrutiny, but you sure as hell weren't going to show them how much it rattled you.

Might as well make it worth their while, you thought, jaw clenching. You took a few anticipatory breaths, and bounced on the balls of your feet as you worked up your courage.

Just do. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Take the damn sociopath's advice, and do what you have to do to get through the night.

“Catch you on the other side,” Pierce grinned, wolflike in the darkness.

Without waiting to reply, you took a running start towards the grassy slope. The air was cool on your hot cheeks as you sprinted, leaving all thought behind. The chainlink fence and red roofs of the houses at the bottom of the slope grew nearer, and then your feet left the ground, and the sudden sensation of weightlessness hit you like a wall as your wings fanned out on either side.

They’d chosen a good take-off point. The natural updraft of the hill caught you almost immediately, carrying you effortlessly up and away from the shrinking roofs.

Your newly-healed muscles ached at the exertion, but the ache was dull, dampened by the sudden thrill of flight. It felt like leaving it all behind; like escaping the tethers of your mind, and throwing fear to the wind.

How long had it been, since you really flew ? But you couldn’t think about that now; only the task ahead.

Far below, truck doors slammed as Reavers climbed back inside and the black vans pulled away from the drop point. And high above, you wheeled towards the city; focus honed to a single point of intent as you worked to pick out the dark shape of one specific skyscraper among the rest.

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#fanfic #donald pierce #donald pierce x reader #boyd holbrook #donald pierce x you

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