#not gonna take it for granted no sir

[miraluking-respectfully]

man while i'm on my felix kick it fucking sucks that they keep not knowing what the FUCK to do with this character when he's actually very strongly characterized. i went off about this last night but like, underutilized aspect of felix: he's like, a really good leader?? and i'm not talking an uber-inspiring protagonist-type leader like the PC; i'm talking an extremely functional organizer of people that you especially need in a military context. it's kind of hard to clock at first if you're not paying attention, especially because you're introduced to him while he's desperately trying to stave off a mutiny; but considering he's on a shithole iceball with a group of restless 18-to-25-year-old recruits who, as far as they're concerned, are trying to kill an immortal enemy, the fact that only one of them winds up ultimately raising a hand against him is impressive. he boosts morale, he makes good tactical calls on his own while not being too proud to take assistance, he metes out swift discipline without being needlessly punitive. and when the squad splits up, people keep in touch with him!!!

like, felix is extremely good at his job, and that aspect of him kind of deepens the tragedy of his permanent stagnation in rank when you compare him to other soldier comps like Rusk or even early-game Jorgan. i'm not a fan of fictional or real militaries but this character's skillset as an officer has been a repeatedly underutilized resource narratively & it makes me want to eat glass

[tojipie]

ma’am you mentioned slipping a guard a wad of cash for a quick closet fuck in your story so like…how often did prison toji have to bribe the guards? 😅

prison boyfriend toji series linked here <3

content: semi-public, intimidation, mentions of incarceration, facials

custodial wing at 11:30

that’s what he’d whispered to you before you parted during your day visit, hand reaching under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes into the curve of your spine.

you didn’t need to ask questions knowing how often the two of you pulled this off. if the state wouldn’t grant you two conjugal visits on account of you not being married.. then you’d just have to make your own. 

getting started wasn’t a challenge in the slightest knowing entry-level guards melted like putty once a little stipend was involved. money was everything in this system, and toji had left you a lot of money.

once every two months was the deal. frequent enough that you’d both get your fill of each other outside supervised visits, but not so often as to draw suspicion. 

naturally, you make a beeline to your destination as soon visiting hours come to a close, mumbling something about needing the bathroom to a clearly peeved officer at the front desk. 

toji comes into view just at the end of the hall, facing away from you. you realize his body is obstructing another person as you you near, bits of their conversation floating in and out. 

“you really should be in your cell fushiguro...”

“just wait till’ she gets here before you do something stupid.. christ.”

you pause just beside toji, peering over at the navy blue-clad stranger in front of you. 

“where’s..” you trail off, eyes flitting between the two men. great, your regular officer wasn’t on duty today. a fucking warning might have been nice. 

the new guard is probably half your boyfriend’s size—and age, not a firm bone in his body by the looks of it. if he did, you figure toji would already be in solitary for sneaking out of his cell. your shoulders relax at the realization. at least this guy wasn’t a threat. 

the inmate shoots you a knowing smile, sly as ever despite the high-stakes situation. you quickly move to rustle through your pockets at the sight of his outstretched palm, placing a wad of cash in his hand.

“why don’t we give our pal a little gift, hm?” toji coos, holding the money up between two fingers and shaking it like a dog treat. “wanna give me an hour with my girl?”

the guard frowns, looking around cautiously.

“we’re not really supposed to take bribes…”

the fake smile on toji’s face falters. “fuck does that mean?” he says in disbelief.

“well honestly, it means that i’m going to have to report this.” the younger man says, reaching for his walkie-talkie to alert the rest of the security team. 

“are you stupid?” toji seethes. sizing the smaller man up. regret instantly washes over the the guard’s face, eyes blowing impossibly wide as he’s backed up against the wall.

“no sir— I mean— i’m sorry!” a tattooed fist slams against the concrete, dangerously close to his face. 

“i could kill you right now. could snap your neck and keep you in that closet over there,” he whispers, jutting his thumb behind him. you know there’s no real intent behind his words, toji simply wasn’t that cruel. 

the paralyzed guard cowers at the threat, taking the two of you by surprise as a wet spot grows on the front of his pants. gross.

“you gonna piss your pants every time a real man speaks to you? huh?” he barks, laughing at the younger man’s misfortune. 

“no no no please,” the guard babbles, motioning toward the closet. “i’ll keep watch i promise, i— i don’t even need the money i’m sorry.”

“good cause you weren’t getting it,” toji sneers, pocketing the cash before picking you up bridal style. 

“that was mean,” you whisper, oddly impressed at the inmate’s intimidation skills.

“yeah? you like when i’m mean?” he mutters jokingly, hands already squeezing the curve of your ass from where his palms are holding your body up. the contact makes you shudder, sending bolts of electricity right to your core.

you loved seeing him like this, as sick as it was. possessive, short-tempered, commanding. it all made your knees weak. 

you find yourself propped up against the door of the closet moments later, held up by his hands as he wastes no time, leaning in to mouth at the curve of your neck. 

the way he maneuvers you without so much as a sigh only stokes the flames deep in your core. toji’s strength was something to behold, an absolute marvel.

the closet is dim, lit by a pull-string bulb older than the two of you combined. you’re so close that you don’t know where your body ends and his starts, making it seem like there’s not enough air for the both of you. 

you reach down with one hand, keeping the other on his shoulder for balance. deft fingers work up the scratchy fabric of his brown uniform, exposing his abs with a hum.

fuck, he was getting bigger, muscles chiseling deeper and deeper as each day went by. the barest hint of black ink peeks just under the hem of his shirt, grabbing your attention for just a moment.

“lift it up angel,” he rasps, mouth still working at the thin skin of your collarbones. purple blood vessels bloom under his lips, the trail of hickeys growing larger by the minute.

the inmate helps you strip his upper half, lips detaching from your body with a sly smile.

“toji, oh my god,” you gasp, running a careful hand over the barely healed tattoo. 

“didn’t want you to see till’ it was finished,” he explains, grinding the hard length of his cock against your clothed core. 

toji hadn’t taken his shirt off the last two times you’d snuck off together, opting fuck you through three orgasms with his pants around his knees, showing off the barest hint of his happy trail. 

you figured it was for the sake of saving time, a precautionary measure in case your situation was compromised. naturally, there was a much deeper reason behind it.

delicate swirled letters brand your name across his ribs, etched into tanned skin amid a background of black and grey mist. the skin around the edge is still pink and delicate. blushed by the spike of a needle over, and over, and over.

god.. how did he even get this done? and so well at that? the things he manages to achieve even while serving time never fail to blow you away.

you hadn’t even realized he’d stopped grinding into you, his palm just barely cradling your face.

“you okay?” he says it so gently, like you’ll break. 

“it’s perfect,” you tell him, basking in the shy smile he gives you. scarred lips finally meet yours, setting you down on the floor of the closet to shimmy your skirt down. toji pulls away with an audible hum, tapping the inside of your calf to get you to open your legs wider.

the inmate wastes no time, hooking a thumb under the fabric covering your heat, and pulling your panties to the side. you feel his hulking body drop to a knee in the dim light, running thick hands up the soft skin of your calves before pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. 

“beautiful,” he whispers, though the stars that dance across your vision keep you wondering if he’s talking about you, or your pussy. 

and then your thoughts come to a screeching halt as a warm, dexterous tongue licks up the length of your slit. the noise he makes is obscene, desperate, groaning low in his chest as he tastes you for the first time in months. 

you nearly forgot how good it feels to be taken like this, struggling to maintain your balance as toji laps at your hole, two hands settling on your knees should they decide to buckle. 

“tastes so fucking good,” 

he says it directly into your heat, shooting vibrations straight into your core. warm velvet sneaks up to lap at your sensitive bud, tracing hot, wet circles in the spot that matters most.

you peek down just enough to see him free his cock from his boxers. two fingers swipe through your heat, using your slick to ease the slide of his hand along his shaft. 

it’s filthy, the way he’s always been so readily able to shift how he acts around you. cold, unforgiving hands turning into warm fingers that bring you nothing but pleasure. 

you’re the only one who sees him like this— who will ever see him like this. on his knees in the back of a cramped closet, making love to your cunt like a man starved. 

the feeling of your approaching high rips you from your thoughts, hands tangling into his mess of raven hair.

“gonna cum,” you whine, pushing at his forehead to get his face away from your clit. the tiniest bit of relief floods your core as he pulls away, his mouth and chin dripping with slick. 

“turn around.”

you haven’t even fully pressed yourself against the door before the blunt head of his cock is sliding into your entrance, filling you to the brim in one fluid motion.

toji takes a second to palm at the flesh of your ass, humming in appreciation as you adjust to his size.

“please,” you groan, “please just fuck me toji, please.”

the inmate pauses, slipping a hand under the hem of your shirt to play with your tits.

“should i?” he whispers, groaning as you clench down on his length.

frustrated, you push your hips back into his shaft, swallowing him over and over while harsh pants ring out behind you. large hands squeeze around your waist to stall your movements, giving him space to rut into you like you need.

the feeling is seismic, explosive. sending you right over the edge and into the abyss as black streaks over your vision. you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this good before, taking deep, thorough gulps of air as you’re humped and rutted into against the fragile wood of the closet door.

large fingers wrap around your wrist and pin your arm behind you as you reach down to toy with yourself.

“like this,” he tells you. the implications clear as day.

cum on his cock or don’t cum at all. 

and cum you do, shuddering as you flood yourself between your legs. his pace doesn’t let up for a single second, bucking up into that special spot over and over.

“knees,” he commands, tone as urgent as ever. “fuck, get on your knees.”

you don’t have to be told twice, sinking to the floor to face him as he pulls out of you.

“open baby, open up for me.” the noise his hand makes while her jerks himself off is absolutely debilitating.

you tiredly rest your cheek just under the jut of his hip bone, pressing soft kisses under the far edge of his tattoo. the aftershocks of your high leave you breathless as thick spurts of seed cover the left half of your face. 

toji takes you by the face and holds you in front of him, fingers squishing your lips into a pout as he paints your face with the last of his load.

“there we go, there we go, eat it for me,” he pants from above you, chest heaving from the force of his orgasm. you gather as much as you can with your tongue, letting him thumb the rest into your mouth.

“beautiful,” he says, letting you clean off his fingers with your tongue. and this time you’re sure that he’s talking about you, his girl. his everything.

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[killerpancakeburger]

I'm the powder, you’re the fuse

SUMMARY: Soap finds out that his girlfriend is a skilled mercenary. And that he likes it... a lot.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader

TAGS: Established relationship, Badass!Reader, Smitten!Soap.

WARNINGS: Canon violence, misogynistic comments/insults, mention of: blood, death, kidnapping/hostage taking, torture, weapons, suggestive content (Soap is Horny), military inaccuracies, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

A/N: yes I am still writing the civilian fic with Ghost and Soap... but then I had this idea and thought I could finish it ""quickly"". Written on mobile so if there are mistakes feel free to tell me!!

Soap let out a yawn big enough to dislocate his jaw, staring at his captain with mild resentment.

“This couldn’t hae waited til after breakfast, sir?”

“‘Fraid It could not, John. Actually in just a few minutes you'll be barking at me to know why we haven't gotten a move on already.”

Johnny looked back at his superior with perplexity, before glancing over at his teammates around the table, hoping for a scrap of information. Ghost remained imperturbable while Gaz shrugged.

“We received this video thirty minutes ago. Addressed to a certain Sergeant MacTavish.”

His captain turned on the projector and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall behind him. It was his teammates’ turn to glance at him questioningly, and to him to shrug with ignorance.

The Scottish soldier rubbed his face in an attempt to get rid of his lasting drowsiness as the video projected on the white screen facing them was starting.

A group of armed men in balaclavas were occupying a room. The one in the front spouted the classic ransom demand in exchange for a hostage. Nothing worth being summoned at the crack of dawn for.

Then the spokesman moved aside, revealing their detainee, bound to a chair and gagged, shooting daggers at her captors, and Soap almost knocked over the table with how brutally he stood up. Carried away by white-hot fury, he slammed his hands on the table.

“Fuckin’ - what the fuck is this!? When did this happen? Where are those fucking bastards? I -”

Rage had roughened his usually smooth voice, granting it a gravelly pitch, turning his shout into a growl.

“Control yourself, Sergeant”, interrupted Price, “It's not over yet.”

On the screen, the same man as before grabbed your hair, ignoring your murderous glare, forcing you to look at the camera, and coaxed you with disdain before taking off your gag:

“Come on doll, gonna have to beg real pretty for your man to get him to rescue you.”

The second your mouth was freed, you snarled at him, baring your teeth like you were about to bite.

“I'm gonna rip your throat out with my bare hands, you f-”

“Fuck, someone muzzle that rabid bitch”, swore your agressor, your belligerence clearly having thrown a wrench in his plans.

Soap could not help the flare of pride soaring in his chest at the view of your defiance and your grit.

After receiving their orders, the team left the room to prepare themselves for the assault. 

“A friend of yours?” asked Gaz, while Ghost questioned “Ya know her?”

“That's mah girl”, admitted the Scotsman, a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away. The cat was out of the bag. For your own sake, you had been a well-kept secret, but it was blatant that it didn’t protect you.

“Been together for a year. Never meant to drag her into this, though.”

“She sounds like a bloody riot, mate.” teased Garrick.

“She doesn't seem fazed to be taken hostage. Mainly pissed.” pointed out Ghost, wary.

“She's fearless.” admitted Soap with an enamored little smile. “Doesn't mean we don’t have to get her out of this though.”

His expression shifted from fondness to cold determination.

“‘F course.”

“We've got your back.”

“Gaz? You copy?” called Ghost over coms.

The afornamed was tasked with overwatch. His response arrived, marked by hesitation.

“...  I don't think she needs our help, guys.”

“The fuck s’that supposed to mean?” grumbled the Lieutenant.

“It'd be better if you'd see for yourselves. Third window on the right, second floor.”

Ghost took out a pair of binoculars and pointed them at the given position.

“Fooking hell…”

The expletive was mumbled with a mix of surprise and… awe?

“What? What! Lemme see L.T.!” pleaded Soap.

Ghost quickly passed him the tool, eager to make him shut up. The sergeant hastened to shove them against his face. His gaze took in the sight in front of him and he let out an appreciative whistle.

“Steamin’ jesus…”

He drank in the view that was your bloody display of fierce skill and deadly efficiency. You staggered between the enemies with fluidity, making them seem like clumsy amateurs. Slicing a throat there, shooting a head here, he watched with fascination as you used a dead attacker as a human shield.

“I think I'm hard.”

“TMI,  Soap.” 

Gaz coupled his comment with a gagging noise.

“Can ye blame me! Mah lass is oot there bein’ a bonafide badass ‘n’ that's the hottest shit a've ever seen.”

“M not blaming you for being a horny bastard, I'm blaming you for not keeping it to yourself.”

“If you two are done bickering, we could go pick her up.” groaned Ghost.

Letting Garrick past, he grabbed Soap by the shoulder as he was walking by him.

“You knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That you were going out with a killer.”

“Nae, but it turned out to be a good thing, didn’t it? Cannae imagine how badly this would have ended with a civilian. The wounds, the trauma…”

Ghost let out one of his grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.”

Positioning themselves near that final entrance, Soap nodded in response to Ghost's hand signal, waiting for him to break the door down. They were still on their gard in case some of the assailants survived.

In the ensuing silence, your voice reached his ears through the wall he was propped against.

“Come on doll”, you taunted, imitating your captor's scornful tone from earlier, sickly sweet then venomous. “Tell me who you work for and I won't gouge out your remaining eye.”

Johnny gulped. Eavesdropping on this definitely did not help with the… situation in his pants.

The racket produced by Ghost dealing with the door had the merit to make him focus once again. 

His body moving automatically, his training taking over, Soap charged into the room, pointing his rifle at the only person left standing there. Like a reflection of himself, you were aiming your own firearm at him. Your eyebrows were frowned in concentration, your eyes glinting with cold determination. Then recognition dawned on your face, and you heaved a sigh of relief, lowering your weapon.

“It's you! You scared the shit out of me.”

Relief flooded through him at the sight of you, bruised, battered, and blood-spattered, but alive. He tossed his gun aside as you put down yours, ready to embrace you, but Ghost's voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Back off, Soap.”

An order. Johnny stared at him in shock.

“What the hell, L.T.?”, he hissed in his direction.

You docilely raised your hands in the air as the masked man lined up the end of his gun's barrel with your head.

“Worst rescue party ever”, you mumbled to yourself.

“Sorry, Johnny”, grumbled Skullface, not sounding sorry in the slightest, never taking his eyes off you. “But do your usual conquests take down a dozen armed men on their own?”

Illustrating his words, he gestured with his rifle to the ground littered with corpses. The man you had started to interrogate - the only one left alive - whined in pain.

“So what's your deal? Ya a mole? Shagging Johnny for intel?”

“Ghost!” Soap gasped, offended for himself as much as for you. “M not some clueless newbie!”

You made a face at the question. You understood where he was coming from, hell you’d do the same if the roles were reversed, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed sharing details of your sordid past, especially with a stranger. The less people knew about it, the better.

“I used to be a mercenary for a family who did organized crime. Been clean for years though.”

“Oh yeah? They let you leave just like that?”

“The boss’ daughter had a soft spot for me.”

The lieutenant stared at you for a few more seconds, as if judging the veracity of your statements through sight alone, before lowering his weapon.

A resounding “Bonnie!” rang out. Next thing you knew, your boyfriend's muscular arms closed around you, causing you to yelp, pain running through you at the overeager contact. Soap cursed and apologized profusely.

“Bloody hell, a'm sorry, didnae mean tae hurt ye. Are ye alright? Show me where it hurts. If those bastards leid a hand on ye, I swear-”

There was something both flattering and arousing with how the more Soap lost his cool, the more pronounced his accent became, and the rougher his voice sounded. You placed a finger across his mouth to put an end to his verbal onslaught, an endeared smile on your own.

“At ease, soldier. I'm OK, just some bruised ribs and a busted eyebrow.” you summarized while pointing to the trickle of dried blood on the side of your face.

He leaned his forehead against yours, a gesture that felt terribly intimate, an adoring grin adorning his lips.

“Cannae believe ye wiped out those sorry fuckers all on yer own. Fuck, that's hot.” he confessed in a subdued tone.

You threw your head back in laughter, only to wince when your sore ribs manifested themselves.

“Never heard that one before. Could get used to it, though.”

You laced your fingers behind his neck, nonchalantly leaning against him, not fighting back an impish smile. Soap's hands grabbed your hips in response. Your roguish expression must have gotten the better of his restraint, because one breath later, he was hungrily pressing his mouth against yours. You replied in kind, swiftly deciding you did not care for his colleagues’ presence, and he moaned in appreciation.

After a minute or two, you broke the kiss against your will, remembering an issue that needed to be solved. You smiled, amused by the vision that was Soap chasing your lips blindly, then pouting when you refused him.

“So you guys are gonna take care of the bodies, right…? I can deal with one or two, but this is a bit much.”

The last soldier, the one you didn’t hear from yet, a pretty man with dark skin that Soap would later introduce as Gaz, assured you that they would handle it.

Transferring your attention back to Johnny, you noticed a trace of guilt in those ocean eyes of his, as he was staring at you.

“Something wrong?”

“Ye not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you frowned.

“It's mah fault if those bastards took ye.”

“Oh, Johnny…” you sighed wistfully, cupping his face. “I knew what the risks were when I chose to date a soldier. Plus, there will always be a chance that my past catches up to me. I was pretty fucking mad when I got a hood shoved on my head and my arms twisted behind my back before getting hauled away in the middle of the fucking night, but not at you.”

Once they gathered all the intel they needed and dragged away the only survivor, the team and you left the building. Your testimony was required for the mission report, so you accompanied them without protest, longing for the care that would be provided by their medical facility.

As you were walking to their vehicule, hand in hand with Soap, you noted how he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His cerulean eyes kept greedily roaming all over you, like you were a vision so dream-like it was making him doubt your reality, like you would vanish the second he stopped contemplating you.

“Yer one badass lass, y'know that? ‘M so proud o’ ye. Proud tae be yers.”

A/N: Ghost's "grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.” " is based on my grandma 💀

[vktrsnclr]

TEACHER'S PET (R18+)

MINORS GTFO

pairing: miguel o'hara x f reader

summary: you're a college freshman in biochemistry and miguel is your professor in biochemical engineering, a major subject that you're about to fail.

warning: I'm a feminist and I'm concerned.

word count: 1.9k+

contents: humiliation, degradation, age gap, height difference, fingering, oral sex, p in v, hair pulling, public groping.

MASTERLIST

It's your first year in college studying biochemistry, the exam results for the first semester's finals are supposed to be distributed today.

Your professor in biochemical engineering, Mr. O'hara discusses the grading system for the second semester but you're losing out of focus. You're staring at his thick voluptuous thighs, thick veiny hands and imagined how he would choke you with it.

You took a gulp at the thought of it. He then started the distribution of the report cards. Your stare followed him as he sat on the table, individually calling out your names and distributing the cards.

"Parker, good job. Reyes, do better next time. Stacy, impressive. Stark..... dios mio." His voice was hoarse. The way he says your last name followed by a spanish term you don't understand sounded like a moan but truly, a term of disappointment.

"Ms. Stark... Are you seriously daydreaming right now?" He asks with a stern voice.

"Oh um, no sir. W-What is it?" Your classmates tried to hold their laugh, you can hear them giggling.

"Get your ass over here." He orders. You stood and walked up to him, hands behind your back, signing 'fuck you' to all of your classmates.

"What are we gonna do with this?" He points at your grade in bio-engineering which is his subject and a major too. You looked at it by bending your torso down, slightly bowing cause you have an eyesight of a dying man. Your cleavage flashes in front of him unintentionally. He tries to look away and focus your report card.

"2.0 (C/73-76%). This is bad." Everyone in your school knows that you're a daughter of a billionaire genius and this is what you got.

Deep inside, you know that the reason you failed is because you've been partying too hard. Just like your father, you're a party animal.

"What can I do?" You asked worriedly.

"Meet me at my office at 6. Class dismissed." He stood up, towering over you at 6'9 ft. He walked out of the room with your classmates.

Your friend, Gwen Stacy clinged on your arm on the way to the cafeteria. You sat with her and his boyfriend, Peter Parker. You can't really understand what they're saying cause your mind is split between your daddy getting disappointed and your disappointed professor being such a daddy.

Four hours later, it's time to go home but you still have to go to Mr. O'Hara regarding your first semester results. You walked into an empty faculty, the other teachers already went home. You walked by Miguel's office window and saw him looking at his watch with what seems to be an irritated brow. You proceeded to walk inside his office, it's smells good and is neatly organized.

"Good evening Mr. Ohara."

"Miss Stark. You're 10 minutes late. Seems like you're not being very committed to your studies." He clenched his jaw and his pair of brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry I was j-"

"Was just expecting 'daddy' to fix it with his money?" He stood up and mocks, pertaining to your father offering a grant to your school.

"No... sir, I just ran into my friends." You opposed, looking down at the floor.

"Are they gone?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Sit down." He sighs.

In a heartbeat, you sat down in a reclining chair right next to the table. He walks up to you, taking his crotch inches away from your face.

"Good girl." He takes your chin to look up at him. The view made your heart race and your cunt twitch.

"You think I'm not aware of your lustful eyes, hermosa?" He looks directly into your eyes with his hands still on your chin. Your eyes gawks and your face slowly turns red, not knowing what to say.

"Mr- Sir, I uh, I'm here for extra credits." You stuttered.

"Uh huh, what else?" He leans down, not breaking an eye contact.

"Uhhh... um m-my dad can pay you!" You blurted out of nowhere. You didn't know what to say since your mind is occupated by dirty thoughts but now you just seemed like a brat.

"Daddy's money hmm?"

"I'm your daddy here." He whispered roughly onto your ear, his hands shifted from your chin into your neck, gently gripping under your jaws.

"Daddy?" You spoke weakly.

"That's right, bitch." He replied with smirk.

You kind of expected this as a cliché porn category but you had no idea that you're gonna experience this in real life.

"You want credits? You little slut?" He cups the side of your cheeks and leans back to watch your face near his pants again.

"Yes! Yes, I want it." You nodded in agreement.

"Then earn it." He grabs a fistful of your hair and rubs it softly in his black pants with a huge bulge on it. You can smell his essence leaking from the fabric. This is all you ever dreamed of since the first day of school, you didn't think it would happen but it DID. All of your fantasies, clothed in black, sliding across your face.

You unbuttoned his pants in a hurry, dropping his undergarments down then finally busting his dick in front of you.

"Good girl." He slapped your face and you loved it. You proceeded to wet your lips to seduce him. He gripped on your hair tighter as you lick the tip of his 8-inch fat cock.

"Fuck." He groans, his voice deep and hoarse. You licked his length, wetting it together with his pre-cum leaking from the tip then swirled your tongue in its head while jerking him off.

"Holy shit you're good." The corner of his lip curling upwards.

He started throat fucking you, his head thrown back, moaning in pleasure. His cock reached your throat but you continued to take it until your eyes water. Miguel likes the way you look, internally choked by his massive cock.

He drags you up and makes you open your mouth as you spread your tongue that still has his pre-cum.

"Swallow." He ordered and you followed. You showed him an empty tongue to prove it.

"I'm gonna fucking destroy you." He places his hand on your chin to squeeze your face and starts kissing you roughly, like you've taken something from him. This is exactly how you want it. It's wet, sloppy and aggressive.

His kisses trailed down on your neck, you let him take off your clothes, even tear it up. He threw your designer clothes in the air like it was nothing. You would let this man do anything to you.

He began to roam his hands all over your body, from pumping your breasts down to your vagina, already dripping. He circles his middle finger on your clit sensually.

"You want this?" Miguel asks between the kisses.

"Uh huh." Your mouth can't form a proper word but a moan. He slaps you again, wanting you to say it clearly.

"You want this, you whore?!" He dips his hand on your hole, teasing you.

"Yes daddy, do it!" A high pitch pornographic whine came out of your mouth.

He then crooks his head onto your neck, leaving marks as he rams his finger up in your hole, sounds of wet squelching, moans and ass slaps filled the corners of his office. He reaches for the back of your clit inside your tight cunt and it drove you crazy. Your eyes roll at the back of your head. Unlike your other sexual partners, Miguel knows all about human anatomy.

"I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you." He takes your hands from his cock to your back, pulls his belt out of his pants and then ties your wrists.

"Yes please, I've been dreaming of this." You replied while he bends you over on the desk.

"Oh I bet you do you fucking slut." Miguel teases the tip of his cock on your clit, both wet from foreplay.

"Please fuck... fuck me."

Without any reply, Miguel rams his long and fat dick inside you, filling your walls with euphoria.

You groaned in pain after he put his full length in.

"Daddy it hurts."

"Nah, you can take it cariño." He reassures then pins your head on the desk while thrusting deep on your leaking hole.

"You... You've been spending a lot of time with that Parker boy huh? You like him?" He asks curiously, grabbing your hair.

"No, please he's with Gwen." You explained.

"You guys fuckin? Huh?" He ignores your answer while pounding at your pussy, making you scream in pain and pleasure.

"No daddy, Pleaaase.... I only want you. I want youuu." He grabs your tits from the back, holding it for support as his pace goes slower, making it comfortable for you.

"That's my girl. Now I'm gonna make you mine." His last words before sucking the skin off of your neck, leaving love marks that is visible to everyone.

"Ironman's daughter, pumping on my dick with her drenched punani. What's he gonna do? Save you?" He laughs devilishly. At this point you didn't care about your reputation. Your body wants him, even your cunt pulses everytime you peak behind your back to see him using you.

"You're my daddy, please fuckin destroy me." You surrendered. Miguel removes his belt on your wrists and puts it back as he pins it over your head in missionary position. Now, he can see your face while he fucks you, your lips smeared in red lipstick, smiling psychotically. Becoming undone by the stroke of his dick, his hands playing with your nipples and the other holding your wrists.

Your smile made him excited. His thrusts go faster and faster as you scream his name. "Mr. O'hara I'm cumming." You whined. It made him chuckle, you using honorifics despite your pussy currently being destroyed. He bit his lips, carried you by the hips, using you as his fucktoy. He pumps his dick in your tight little hole in a doggy position. Your feet doesn't even touch the floor because of your height difference. You simply just hang in the air with your pussy continously getting pounded.

"Shit shit shit I'm cumming." He whimpers.

"Cum inside daddy." It's the first time you had sex without protection and now you want him to cum inside you.

"That's right, princesa."

He continued plunging his sword into your uterus ramming even harder, seconds later, he busts his load. Your pussy's leaking with his thick cum all the way to your thighs. He lets go of your hips and places you on the table, back arched, pussy flowing.

He puts your panties back without cleaning your pussy, only the sides and the extra cum dripped on your legs and thighs.

"You did great, mija" He kisses your forehead.

"I did?"

"Yes you did." He smiles softly, saying it like he's a proud mentor.

After that encounter, he kept you as his pet, your friends noticed the hickeys on your neck every now and then and your alibi is always getting burnt by the hair curler. Flash Thompson even joked that the hair curler you're talking about is Mr. O'Hara.

Even if you denied it and threatened him with a lawsuit, It's obvious. Your lustful stares in the classroom, the special treatment you get in class above all the other students.

At times when the corridor is empty, he would grope your ass, spank it and squeeze it until you reach the classroom, walking in together at the same time. Your friends would always ignore the same smell coming out of you and Mr. O'hara. Fucking in every empty room, any chance that you get. You've certainly become the teacher's pet.

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ~ 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 1.3k

genres/tropes: romance, dealer!chris, sturniolo au, slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers

teaser: here

pt. one: here / pt. two: here

warnings: drug usage, alcohol consumption, guns mentioned and used (non-sexual context), smut, mature themes and topics

notes from bambi: this is a multi-part series, and updates will be sporadic.

Christopher's POV:

Nicolas called me for the fourth time in a row. Picking up with a sigh, I barely managed to get three words out before he began his royal tirade. “You handed four thousand dollars to a perfect stranger, Christopher. How does that fucking constitute ‘laying low’? She’s going to tell every single person she knows, and where will that leave us?”

“Death row, probably,” I deadpanned, nosing through a bowl of sweets with my finger. “Do you like dark chocolate?”

“I may seriously kill you and hang your body parts off the ‘HOLLYWOOD’ sign. Why do I have to find out these things from the finance department asking me if “we were sure we wanted to make that kind of deposit”? The device in your hand is incredibly useful for all sorts of almost-instantaneous communication across any distance, and I’ll have you know-”

“We should order a pizza for the office tomorrow. You think they’re pepperoni people?”

He answered after a long-suffering sigh. “Of course they’re peperoni people, Christopher.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Nicolas,” I hummed, grateful for more than just his crowd-sourced opinions.

“I’m taking an Advil and several melatonin,” he snarled at me. “Goodnight.”

A black sedan slowed to a stop at the curb outside as my eldest brother so graciously hung up on me. A quick glance at my phone revealed both the time (3:22am) and an email containing this week’s shipping manifest–Matthew can give it a once-over on the way.

Returning the doorman’s nod, I stepped out of the hotel lobby, through a warm, moon-filled breeze, and into the backseat of the unassuming vehicle.

“Did you get the-”

“Yes,” I said, handing my device to Matthew, who lounged in the seat opposite mine. 

“...Hong Kong is in error,” he murmured. I nodded absentmindedly, letting him work through the tables. Matthew had his methods and so far, he’d never once led us astray. The minutes passed in silence as Los Angeles melted around us, cars and shadowed palm trees and people drifting by at 45+ miles an hour.

“Why were you at the hotel?” he asked after a while.

“Met someone,” I replied evenly.

“You gonna meet her again?”

“Unlikely.”

“If you get herpes because you can’t keep it in your pants,” Matthew said, never once looking up from the manifest, “I will point and laugh.”

Our driver chuckled up front.

“What is this, amateur hour?” I snarked.

“How was she, sir?” our driver asked with a glance in the rearview mirror.

My thoughts settled on the woman from the night before, and the evening we’d shared.

“Oh, Owen, faster, faster!” she squealed, jutting her ass into my pelvis. I regretted giving her my middle name in the name of safety and secrecy–who the fuck can seriously scream ‘Owen’ during sex? Then I remembered I was having sex, which usually is a two-person affair, and I should probably focus, but I shouldn’t have worried–she was done. I waited politely for her body to finish twitching before I lowered myself onto the mattress. “That was so…oh god…” she panted.

“Thank you,” I said, granting her a half-smile. 

“You mind if I shower?”

“Go right ahead.”

As the water wished down the drain, muffled through the bathroom door, I stared at the ceiling. What was wrong with me? Normally I enjoyed sex quite a bit–the animal nature of it, base human desires brought to the surface, expression of self and pleasure through the movement of the body–but it seemed I’d outgrown such things. Outgrown may not have been the right word. I felt confused and exhausted.

As I drifted asleep, I wondered briefly about the bottle girl from the nightclub. I hoped Miss Cassie made it home alright.

“A gentleman never tells,” I replied. 

Matthew handed my phone back to me. “We’ll need to call Lee tomorrow about the reports issue but otherwise we’re good for this week. Not a lot of product coming in anyway, most is export and that’s on Nicolas.”

I glanced at him, mouth tilted. “You worry about you. I’ll worry about Nicolas.”

The car slowed to a halt in front of the estate, and I stepped out with a sigh. “Thank you sir,” I said to the driver, who nodded back at me.

“We’ll be just a minute.”

Matthew followed me up the drive to the front steps. “Why’d you pay that girl so much?”

“Hm?”

“The girl from last night, Callie? Camryn? Cornucopia?”

“Cassandra,” I chuckled. “And I haven’t paid her yet.”

Matthew closed the heavy oak door behind us. “That’s not what Nicolas said.”

Word sure travels fast around here, I thought with a scowl. “Would you two please quit gossipping? It’s annoying.”

“You can be annoyed, I just want to know what warranted four thousand dollars.” Matthew took a cigarette from his pocket, fishing around for his lighter. “That’s a hell of a bathroom blowjob.”

Music thumped through the ornate–and frankly ostentatious–house. Wonder why nobody’s downstairs. “It wasn’t a blowjob. We just talked, you dickhead.”

Matthew snorted and lit his cigarette. “Whatever you say, Christopher.”

A man rounded the nearest corner, his eyes a dull red and his nose powdery white. “Heyyy, pretty boy,” he slurred.

“Dennis Johnson?” Matthew asked conversationally, letting his cigarette hang from his lips and dropping a hand into his coat pocket.

“Thas’ me, alright…Who’s askin’?”

Matthew whipped out his pistol and shot the man where he stood, watching him fall to a heap on the now-blood-spattered marble floor.

“So messy,” I sighed, retrieving my own handgun and making my way up the stairs. “Let’s make this quick please, I’d rather not bother our brothers-in-blue.”

“Really?” my brother said with a wry, blood-freckled smile. “Simple favor for the local sheriff, huh?”

I returned his grin. “Something like that. Let’s light the place.”

Cassandra's POV:

“-a violent shooting earlier this morning, estimated to have occurred between three and four a.m. raises questions in the minds of many-” The newswoman droned on as I ate my cereal, curled tightly underneath my mom’s blanket. 

“Cass, honey?”

“Yes ma’am,” I called.

“Can I come in?”

Putting my bowl down on the nightstand, I clicked the tv off. “Sure.”

My mom fit the worrying mother trope to a T, so her concern about my job at the nightclub shocked me very little. Still, I let her sit on my bed and ramble–something about it soothed her, I think. 

“-and I just worry because, you know, there’s a lot that goes on in those kinds of establishments, and I-”

“I know, Mom,” I said. I put my hand on her arm and took a deep breath. “But…I got a massive tip last night.”

She tilted her head questioningly. “How much?”

“A little over four thousand dollars, Mom.”

She choked and clutched her chest. “What the heck?”

I broke out into a laugh. “Mom!” She never used such language!

“What…How…”

I told her everything–Christopher, the drink, the bathroom–and after a long moment of quiet, she nodded. “You keep yourself safe, Cassandra.”

“I will Mom. But hey! We don’t need to worry about bills this month!”

She tutted and shook her head as she tucked her blanket underneath my toes. “You should save it, baby. Invest in something, let it grow.”

“Or,” I replied, taking another bite of my soggy cereal, “We can go get our nails done and afford name-brand groceries.”

My mom smiled from the doorway. “Put it in the bank and we can talk about it later, okay?”

Giving her my best salute, I drank the rest of my breakfast-dinner amalgamation meal and slid underneath my covers and her blanket. The one-bedroom apartment we shared didn’t boast much in the way of comfort, but we got by. The money from Christopher was genuinely life-changing, and I wanted to find a way to let him know. Would he even care though? You know how those rich people behave…money is nothing to them. I refused to believe in a world where four thousand dollars wasn’t a lot to a person and did my best to catch some sleep. 

City lights pulsed slowly through my threadbare curtains as sirens echoed through the streets and cars honked. Planes flew overhead, carrying hundreds of people to thousands of places, and the subway hummed far below. I finally fell asleep, though I couldn’t help but wonder if that money really meant nothing to Christopher.

notes from bambi: pls let me know if you guys like this concept! mwah

taglist: @pinksturniolo @st7rnioioss @cindylcuwho @slutsformatt @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt 

[leigh-kay]

Phone Calls || Ethan Landry

warnings// overused gf phonecall smut plot, you all mad at me for cutting it short probably, she touches herself and he watches lol, ethan being a menace, degradation <3

She was alone when the phone rang, watching her favorite show. She was biting into a piece of the watermelon she'd grabbed in the kitchen when it startled her into dropping it.

"Hello?" she huffed, picking up the piece from her comforter.

"Hello y/n," the rasp was unmistakable to her ears.

Reagrdless, her eyes rolled, "Turn that stupid thing off. You made me drop my watermelon you jerk."

He sighed on the other end of the line, cutting the voice changer, "You know I thought it'd be funny-"

"To call me using your serial killer persona voice? Ha. I find it hilarious."

"You said it was hot when I showed up covered in blood ," she could hear his pout.

Switching to speaker phone, she sat the phone on the pillow beside her, "It was. Hell even the voice effect is... something. But your voice is my favorite."

She continued to eat her fruit, smiling at the sound of his silence at the end of the line.

He never knew how to take compliments. His flustered behavior gave her an idea. Why not push his limits?

"You sound pretty all the time but I love when you whisper in my ear. Or when you get all grumpy and assertive and sound all... aggressive."

He can tell what she's up to, and it has the opposite effect she'd imagined. Rather than turn bashful, he cuts straight to the very tone she'd talked about.

"Is that so, baby?"

"Mhm," she smiles, though he can't see her.

"Now that I think about it... you do fall apart so easily with just a few words," he's tempting with his words, "dont you pretty?"

The fruit is moved to her bed side table as she readjusts in her sheets, "The words you choose to say play a part too you know."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Heat floods her body as she thinks of all the different things he says. When she's on top of him. When she's pinned beneath him. How he begs when he's in her mouth.

"When you call me yours."

"And don't forget it. What else?"

She can feel her panties as they catch the heat pouring out of her.

"How you say my name when you.." she trails off, eyes shut.

"When I what baby?"

A sigh rushes out of her, "when you're inside of me."

"You just love when I fuck you, don't you?"

Her fingers trail to the line of her shorts, inching them down, "You know I do."

He could hear the slight whine in her voice, "Are you touching yourself?"

She gave no answer as her fingers run through her slit.

"Answer me slut."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yes mr. psycho killer," she snorted.

"Don't roll your eyes at me baby," his voice was less angry and more teasing, "now you're gonna do what I say, yeah?"

She'd come to the conclusion that he was watching her. Which also led her to believe that if she did as she was told, he'd fuck her the way she really wanted. Deal.

"Yes sir," she smiled, eyes wandering to the window at the far side of the room. She imagined he'd be sitting there, up in the tree beside it, watching her.

"Good. Now, play with that pretty pussy just like I would hm?"

She didn't need to be told twice. Slow circles across her clit made bumps break on her skin. She could feel her temperature rising as she grew needier with the teasing touches she granted herself.

"Look at you, teasing yourself just like I would. I bet you wish it was me though," she could hear the pride in his voice and while it annoyed her, orgasms trumped annoyance any day.

She took a breath, "Ethan please."

"Please what baby?"

"Just come in and touch me," she tried to keep her composure, "I'll do anything."

"Make yourself come and we'll talk about me touching you."

She groaned in frustration, "feels so much better when its you though!"

He laughed in a breath, "I know it does. But i want to watch you."

She knew he'd get what he wanted. He always did with that smile and those stupid fucking brown eyes of his. Disagreements were nonexistent the moment he made her look at him and shes pissed at the fact just picturing him is enough to make her more agreeable.

Regardless, her fingers slip into her cunt as she mumbles his name, dragging through her in a quick speed.

"Faster, angel," he demands.

"Please," she moans, "keep talking baby, please"

"God you're a whore. Touching yourself to my voice?"

Fucking hell.

Her eyes squeeze shut as he continues, "Such a pretty whore though hm? My pretty whore."

She nodded, curling her fingers in just the right way to make her whine.

"Sound so needy too, can't fucking wait to touch you honey."

She curses as she falls apart, crying his name and within seconds her closet door is thrown open.

A scream fills her room as he steps into the light.

"Fuck you!" she huffs, shooting daggers into the man ten feet away.

"You knew I was watching," he grins, making his eay towards her before crawling ontop of her.

"You know you say my name so pretty when you come?" he teases.

She finds her eyes rolling again as she glares up at him, "You said you'd fuck me if I listened."

He laughs, fingers stroking the column of her neck as he takes her lips on his own. She was perfect for him. So needy and so fucking mean. He loved it. He loved her.

Her fingers find home in his hair as she wraps her legs around his waist, dragging him closer into her.

The hand beside her head is supporting him as his free hand locks on her waist, holding her to the mattress beneath them.

As she gives a particularly sharp tug to his hair, he gasps into the kiss, hand rushing to her throat. As he sinks his fingertips into the flesh of her neck, she grins into the kiss hes pressing to her lips, "Harder."

He fights the laugh in his throat as she stares up at him, "You're in no place to make demands."

Before she can utter another word, he's squeezing tighter and letting his mouth cover the space across her chest, enjoying the way her body reacts to every move he makes. The way her back arched and her hips would roll against nothing gave him a pride he'd never had before her. She gave him a lot of things he'd never had before.

"I think," he began to drag his hand over her still dripping pussy, "I want a taste."

Her body shivered at the contact as he got between her legs. She could feel that she was insanely wet, but his commentary on it made her body burn with embarassment.

"You get so wet for me," he grinned, pressing his lips along the insides of her thighs.

Her hands attach to his shoulders as his mouth connects with her clit, tongue immediately rolling over it in slow motions. As her hips rose from the bed, his hands locked around her waist, forcing them down.

Her head fell back as his fingers slipped inside of her. She knew she was in for a long fucking night.

[sosa2imagines]

Broken Hearts. Part 14

Warnings- Fluff, mean town people. Lee being Lee.

You made a crucial mistake by locking eyes with Lee Bodecker.

As he stepped out of his car, he was instantly captivated by your appearance. The combination of your light blue overalls and a white crop top, coupled with the way you bit your lip before speaking, left him practically smitten.

Bodecker was utterly captivated, and his attraction was evident in his wide-eyed gaze. He was practically swooning, his thoughts consumed by you.

“Sir, these guys had a misunderstanding, they were mistaking our friend to be some killer and attacked us. We just tried to defend and the locals are not even listening to us!!!”

“Don't worry mam.” Lee says in a serious tone

“Y/n” You introduced yourself to Bodecker, your name sounding sweet to his ears.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Ari's lips, noticing how you remained kind and courteous, avoiding the formal titles like “ma'am” or “miss.”

You preferred to be addressed by your name alone, just as you consistently showed concern for him and willingly shared the burden of taking on the goons.

Bodecker surveyed the scene, his gaze flickering from you to Ari before resting on the defeated men sprawled on the ground.

He prodded one of them with the toe of his shoe, issuing a warning. “Well, next time I catch you messing around, no amount of weed-smoking is gonna save your sorry asses!” he growled.

He then turned his attention to Peter, his gaze intense and commanding. “You!” Bodecker began, his voice stern.

The local townsfolk's anger flared once again, and one of them spoke up, their voice laced with accusation. “Lee, arrest him! He killed Father Teagardin and your sister and her husband!!!” the man shouted.

Soon, the entire crowd joined in, their voices clamouring in unison, urging Bodecker to arrest Peter.

“Sir that's not whoever the killer is, they just look alike. Peter is innocent and I can prove his identity, please believe us.” you plead.

Lee, still captivated by you, found himself in a dilemma amidst the townsfolk's demands. Clearing his throat, he addressed the crowd.

“People, we believe in proper justice,” he declared. “I'll take the boy with me. If he cannot prove his identity, I'll arrest him and ensure he is punished.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices echoing through the air as they showed their support for Lee.

Meanwhile, Peter appeared on the verge of fainting, struggling to process the chaos unfolding around him.

Ari, however, had a brilliant idea. Grabbing hold of Peter, he quickly maneuvered them towards Lee's car. “Hey, Sheriff!” Ari called out. “If you don't mind, can you drive us to the motel? Our car is there. Can we tag along?”

You stepped forward, standing directly in front of Lee. “Sir,” you addressed him with a firm yet pleading tone.

“Lee...” he introduces himself to you.

You looked directly into Lee's eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips as you initiated the conversation. “Lee,” you began, your voice steady and firm. “That's a nice name...” you continued. “Can you please drop us? We can show you the proof.”

Lee was clearly smitten, and it didn't surprise you in the least. He quickly agreed, even stuttering slightly as he offered to drive you to your destination.

With a sly grin, he ushered you into the passenger seat, granting him a perfect view of your exposed skin.

Even as Lee started the engine of his cruiser, several people lingering nearby continued to stare intently. Ari urged the sheriff to pick up the pace, but Lee seemed in no hurry, taking his time with the journey.

Finally, having had enough, you seized control of the situation. You commanded Lee to stop the car.

As he began to protest, you firmly gripped his hand and guided him into the backseat, settling him between you and Peter.

A quick glance backward confirmed, that some of the locals were still within sight, prompting you to shout at Ari to accelerate.

Lee's unease was evident as he protested, his voice laced with tension. “This is against the law!” he exclaimed. “You cannot kidnap me!”

Ari, who was watching him through the rearview mirror, couldn't help but smirk at Lee's discomfort. “We are not kidnapping you, Lee...” Ari calmly explained. “You were driving too slow, and I don't trust those people. They won't hesitate to kill us.”

You spoke patiently, “Lee, you're smart,” you began. “If Peter was the killer, why would he risk entering the town? You know deep down that he's innocent. He's working so hard and also studying at MIT simultaneously.”

Lee's eyes widened in surprise at the mention of MIT. Turning to Peter, he asked, “Hey kid, you study at MIT?”

Peter responded nervously, stuttering slightly, “Yes, Lee...I mean, Mr. Bodecker, sir.”

Lee was visibly puzzled, his expression marked by bewilderment. “This is wrong...” he mumbled. “People are depending on me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “Lee,” you said firmly, “just tell them that we proved Peter is innocent. You can deal with them.”

Lee furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why will I do that now?” he repeated, skepticism evident in his voice.

Ari couldn't help but let out a chuckle, his tone cheeky. “What's your price, Sheriff?”

Lee's eyes widened, and he instinctively licked his lips in response. If you didn't know any better, you could swear it was one of the sexiest things you had ever seen. But really, it was no match for Lloyd, who was in a league of his own. Still, there was something undeniably cute about Lee's shy demeanor.

“A full bag” Lee replies. “Done, anything else?” Ari asks him. “No...” “Good” Ari smiles.

“God, Lee,” Ari continued with a smirk, “you're adorable. I could seriously kiss you right now.”

Ari's cheeky remark caught you off guard and caused Lee to choke on air. His reaction was so adorable that you couldn't help but laugh.

With a sly grin, you teased him, repeating Ari’s words. “God Lee, you're so cute. Even I would like to kiss you.”

Lee's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he awkwardly shifted in his seat, accidentally revealing a glimpse of his hard bulge to Peter.

“Promise?” “What?” you ask him with a smile. “The bag and?” he looks at Peter then back at you.  “Oh…” you realize he was serious about the kiss, so you ask him, “Me or Ari or both?”

He turns red again and is silent the entire ride.

Something about Lee, was both endearing and somewhat innocent. Though the man was full of desires, there was something that made, you and Ari believe that Lee might be a good guy.

As you arrived at the motel, Peter quickly scurried out of the car and slipped into Ari's vehicle. You instructed him to wait inside, and Ari promptly grabbed a bag from the trunk before handing it to Lee.

You didn't question how the bag had been prepared. Spending time with both Lloyd and Nick had taught you the importance of being prepared. They had always emphasized the need for being ready for various situations.

Lee accepted the bag, his gaze lingering on you and Ari.

You exchanged a knowing look, and you made the first move, playfully kissing Lee's lips. He was so lost in the kiss that he didn't even realize when you had stopped.

Ari then took his turn, leaning in and kissing Lee with a fervor that was different from your soft touch. His kiss was hard and intense, causing Lee to visibly shiver.

After the intense exchange, Ari smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at Lee before grabbing your hand and walking toward the car.

Lee stood there, still reeling from the shock, as he discreetly rearranged his pants. You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Take care, Lee.”

Ari followed suit, moving closer and adding a playful wink alongside your words. “She's right, you know,” he whispered, winking again before both of you continued toward the car.

Ari turned the car around and came to a stop near Lee, who was still standing there, a bit flustered. Ari rolled down the window, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I'll see you soon, Sheriff,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “And if Y/n doesn't mind, we both will come to visit you soon, except Peter, of course.”

Peter, blissfully unaware of the underlying meaning, looked back and forth between you and Ari, his expression one of confusion.

You leaned slightly over Ari to confirm, “Yes, I don't mind at all. I would love to tag along to visit you.”

Lee raised his pinky towards Ari, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “Promise?” he asked. Ari grabbed Lee's pinky with his own, sealing the promise.

Then, Lee turned towards you, extending his pinky in anticipation. You mirrored his gesture, linking your pinky with his.

Ari retrieved his phone and exchanged numbers with Lee, waving goodbye as Lee made his way back to his cruiser.

As the three of you journeyed home, you said with a hint of shyness, “I'll miss him.” Ari chuckled softly, agreeing, “Me too.”

Peter, ever the observant one, chimed in with his own remark, “I won't mind missing him or this town!”

His words caused you and Ari to burst into laughter.

Part 13- Part 15

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah

[tilebytiles]

settle for a draw - a.t.

summary: you didn't expect to meet a cowboy. you didn't expect to fall in love with him, either. word count: 5.5k warnings: age gap (reader is 20, alex is 25) a/n: im not the only one who sees tbhc alex as a cowboy ..... right </3

You shouldn't have been so surprised to see the figure approaching your parents' farm, riding his trusty steed and kicking up dust as he approached. You lived on a farm, for crying out loud. You knew the rural life was one a lot of people chose; the countryside was beautiful, for one, but it also offered the perfect chance to get away from it all. None of that stopped you from practically gaping as who you could only assume to be a cowboy approached the front gates.

Okay, maybe you were stereotyping by calling him a cowboy, but he certainly looked the part. One hand was firmly clamped down on his hat, preventing it from being swept away by the wind, and the other clutched the reins, guiding his horse forward with practiced ease. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned and muscled forearms, and the undone buttons of his shirt offered you a sliver of his chest, the gold chain around his neck jostling with each movement.

You were content to stare (ogle), but your father came up beside you on the front porch and clicked his tongue. "Should go see what he wants," he said.

You looked over at him. "Me?" He nodded. "But you said-"

"Y/N, if he tries anything with you while I'm standin' right here, I'm gonna rip him a new one and make sure he sees God."

Your father had a funny way of showing how much he loved you.

You descended the steps and hitched your skirts up, rushing over to the front gate right as the dashing stranger slowed his horse to a stop, gently petting its mane. He looked down at you and tipped his hat politely. "How do you do?" His voice was smooth like velvet and deep, reaching the sort of vocal depths that made your stomach tingle.

"I'm fine, thank you," you said softly, lifting a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. "Can I ask what you're doing here?"

"Ah ..." He released the reins to dip his hand into the bag attached to the saddle, pulling out a rolled-up sheet of paper and handing it to you over the gate. You unfurled it and observed the printed colors, taking note of the hastily scribbled markings, presumably by his hand. It was a map. As you looked over it, he said, "Been travelin' for a few days and decided it was best to take a rest. I'm low on supplies, and I wanted t' see if you could help me out any."

You looked back up at him. Your family had never housed anyone outside of your relatives before, but you didn't see why you couldn't accommodate this gentleman. Granted, you'd only spoken to him for ... a minute, max, but he seemed nice enough. Plus, there was a spare bedroom in your house, and your mother was always guilty of making too much food ... You undid the latches and pulled the gate open, producing a thunderous creak. You really needed to oil the hinges soon. The stranger smiled at you, taking the map when you offered it back to him, and stuffed it back into his satchel before swinging one of his legs over and sliding off his horse. He was taller than you, but not by too much. You led him to the front porch, where your father still stood, and asked, "Papa, can he stay for a few days?"

Your father eyed the supposed cowboy for a few long, long moments before finally sighing and nodding. "You better stay away from my daughter," he said, pointing his finger rather threateningly at the man.

The man was at least smart enough to nod quickly. "Of course, sir. I wouldn't ever think o' trying anythin' with her."

Your father slowly nodded in approval before turning to head back into the house, presumably to update your mother on the situation. You watched the door shut, then gestured for the man to follow as you led him around to the back of the house, where the stables were situated. If he was content to remain in silence as you opened one of the stall doors so he could lead his horse inside, you had other plans. "What's your name?"

He glanced at you for a second as he led his horse into the stall, releasing its reins once it was inside. "Alex."

"Alex ... ?"

"Turner."

"That's a funny last name."

He cocked an eyebrow, following you as you picked up a nearby bucket to fill the trough in the stall with water from the pump behind your house. "Well, what's yours?"

"L/N." You dropped the bucket into the grass and began working the pump, your brows scrunching together with exertion.

He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the movement. "I could argue that's no better than mine."

"I never said it was."

"You got a first name, miss L/N?"

"Y/N." Once the bucket was adequately filled, you lifted it up (trying to ignore the way your arms already wanted to give out) and hauled it back to the stall Alex's horse was in. "How come you're going to the mountains?"

He watched as you poured the water into the trough - it only filled it up about halfway. Silently, he gestured for the bucket, and you hesitated before handing it to him. He headed for the water pump, but you remained by the stall, leaning against the wooden beam that reached up to the stable ceiling. "I got some friends up there," he said, speaking louder so you could hear him. "Plan to stay a week or two with 'em, then head back home."

"It'll take you a couple more days to get there."

"I know. That's why I'm restin' for a few days."

You immediately noticed how much faster he was than you at filling the bucket up. You wanted to be surprised, but you knew you couldn't - he was a skilled rider, and if he was a cowboy, he likely had multiple horses. He knew what he was doing, and his muscular arms hinted at years of practiced motions such as these. He lifted the full bucket with ease, too, as if it was little more than a bundle of feathers. You wondered if he was showing off, only holding it with one hand while you'd needed two. "What's your horse's name?"

He stepped past you to pour the water into the trough. "Lizzie."

You eyed the horse for a few moments. Yeah, she looked like a Lizzie. "She's pretty."

He smiled at that - a small smile, but one nonetheless. "D'ya wanna pet her?"

You blinked. "Can I?"

He set the bucket down outside the stall and pushed the stall door shut, nodding at you as he did so. "She won' bite, if that's what you're worried about."

You stepped up to the stall door and slowly reached your hand out, letting your fingers brush against the top of her nose. In response to your fleeting caress, Lizzie leaned her head forward, her eyes fluttering shut - a silent encouragement. You gave her a more confident pat on her head, then ran your hand along her mane, marveling at how smooth the hairs were. She truly was a stunning horse.

Beside you, Alex was still smiling; you could see it in your periphery. You turned your head to look at him while still offering Lizzie affection. "What?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, 's just always nice t' see people interactin' with her. She's a real attention seeker, y'know. Don't be too nice t' her, or she'll never leave you alone."

That made you laugh. "Is that how you ended up with her?"

He nodded, reaching his own hand out to scratch under Lizzie's chin. "Found her near my farm a few years back. Poor girl was shiverin' to death - looked like she hadn't eaten in a while, either. I gave her some food an' before I knew it, she wouldn't stop nuzzlin' me, demandin' attention. I didn't see the harm in bringin' in one more horse."

"How many do you have?"

"Countin' her, five."

Five? Your family only had two. Maybe your cowboy theory wasn't so far off. Speaking of ... "Are you a cowboy?"

Amusement immediately engraved itself into his features. He opened his mouth to answer, but right as he did, your mother's voice sounded from the back door of your home. "Y/N!" she called. "Time for dinner! Bring your friend, too!"

Beside you, Alex snorted. "I'm your friend, am I?"

You just rolled your eyes and motioned for him to follow as you left the stables.

As soon as you stepped past the threshold of the back door, the smell of herbs filled your nostrils, urging you into the kitchen to find the source. Your mother had just finished plating and was setting a pot down on the stove when you appeared in the doorway, Alex in tow. She looked over at the both of you and smiled. “C’mon, sit down,” she urged, gesturing towards the dining table. You were both quick to acquiesce - you were hungry, and Alex was starving.

Your father appeared and sat across from Alex, your mother sitting across from you. You picked up your cutlery and began to cut into the chicken breast on your plate; the sounds of forks and knives clinking against plates, along with glasses being set down on the table, filled the room. Your mother’s cooking was divine, as always, and you were content to sit in silence and devour everything on your plate. Your father, however, had other plans, and after wiping the crumbs from his mouth, said, “I saw John’s boy in town today.”

Your ears perked up. “Julian?”

He nodded. “Spoke to him some, too. John’s lookin’ to sell one of his horses. I was thinkin’ to pay him a visit tomorrow.”

Your mother, not wanting Alex to feel left out, asked him, “How many horses do you have?”

“Five, ma’am,” Alex said.

“What’s your name, anyway, boy?” your father asked. You wanted to kick him under the table for the way he said it.

“Alex Turner, sir. My farm’s ‘bout a three-day trip from here.”

“Three days? What the hell are you doin’ out here?”

“Goin’ to the mountains, sir, to stay with some friends o’ mine.”

Your father simply nodded and stuffed a forkful of roasted potatoes into his mouth. You looked over at Alex and asked, "Do you think you could help me with some chores after dinner?"

"Now, Y/N," your mother said, "Alex is probably tired from all the ridin' he's done."

"No, ma'am, it's no problem." Alex smiled softly at you, the kind of smile that made your stomach feel light. "I'll help you."

You returned his smile. "Thank you."

After dinner, you helped your mother clear the table, get the leftovers into containers that went into the fridge, and wash the dishes. Once you were finished in the kitchen, you headed out into the back with Alex in tow. "We have to make sure everything's locked up," you explained as you walked, "and set the traps for the night."

"Gotcha." You were surprised when he didn't question what the traps were for, but you quickly reminded yourself he had a farm of his own; he probably set traps, too.

While you set about making sure the stables, barn, henhouse, and pens were all locked, Alex worked on the traps. Somehow, he knew exactly what to do without you telling him, and as you passed him on your way to the henhouse, your brows furrowed. "How do you know how to set them?"

He looked up at you from where he was sat in the grass. "I have these traps on my farm. They're the cheapest an' the most convenient."

"Oh." Now you felt a bit silly for asking.

Once you were both finished, you made your way back inside, making sure to lock the back door behind you. While you'd helped your mother in the kitchen, she'd told you she'd already made up one of the guest bedrooms for Alex to stay in, so you led him upstairs and down the hall, stopping in front of the last room on the right. "My room's right across the hall," you said, looking up at him, "so if you need anything, just let me know."

"Okay." He smiled at you. "Thanks, Y/N. Have a good night."

"You too, Alex." You watched as he stepped into the bedroom and flashed you one last smile before shutting the door.

•••••

By the time morning came in the form of rays of light filtering through the window and incessant bird calls from nearby trees, you had forgotten Alex was staying for a few days, not just last night. In fact, you’d nearly forgotten about Alex entirely, resulting in you letting out a yelp when the door to guest bedroom across the hall creaked open to reveal a human figure. A ghost? No one had stayed in that bedroom since your relatives came for the holidays. Your house was haunted, you needed to tell your parents -

“Y/N?” The sound of Alex’s voice was like a lighthouse in the storm, clearing the dark clouds that obscured your vision. No ghost - just the man you thought was a cowboy. You made a note to ask him about that again later.

“Oh …” You cleared your throat, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the doorway of your own room. “Hey.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you and leaned against his doorway, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He still wasn’t dressed, you noticed. He was like you and ate before getting ready for the day. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You stared at him, opening your mouth to respond and closing it again when you had nothing to say. Finally, you looked away and mumbled, “I forgot you were here.”

He barked out a laugh at that. “Did you now? Guess I scared ya, huh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

You didn't say a word and quickly headed for the stairs.

You saw your mother setting plates on the dining table, but your father was nowhere to be found. Confused, you asked, “Where’s papa?”

“He went to go talk to John ‘bout his horse, remember?”

Oh. No, you didn’t remember.

Breakfast went by quickly, with neither you nor Alex saying much. Once you were done eating, you went back upstairs to get dressed, then headed outside to tend to your morning chores. Your first stop - the henhouse.

You set down the wicker basket you’d brought with you on the ground and hauled the sack of chicken feed up into your arms, grunting with the effort. You did an awkward little waddle around the yard, scattering feed as you went. Once you were satisfied with the coverage, you set the sack back down by the henhouse, then picked your wicker basket back up. You undid the locking mechanism and opened the henhouse doors, immediately greeted with a cacophony of clucks. “Good morning to you, too,” you hummed, watching as the hens headed down the wooden ramp in a single file line.

As you poked your head inside, examining their nests, you heard a voice behind you. “Any luck today?” Alex.

You straightened up and deposited the few eggs you’d found into the basket. “Just a few,” you said, looking up at him. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged, watching as one of the hens pecked at his boot. “I was gonna see if ya wanted t’ take Lizzie for a ride once you were done.”

You smiled at him. “I’d love to.”

His gaze snapped up to meet yours, and he returned your smile. “D’you need any help?”

“Actually, yeah …”

With Alex’s help, you were able to get the rest of your chores done with ease. Having someone help you made it all go by much faster, and you were already dreading the day he’d have to leave. Maybe you would need to remind your father of the idea he’d had of hiring a farm hand.

You stood and watched as he opened the stall door, stepping inside to get the saddle and reins back onto Lizzie. “Is she the feisty type?”

He snorted. “Hell no. She’s a real sweetheart.”

You stepped aside so he could lead Lizzie out of the stall and followed behind him as he took her out of the stables. The two of you (three, technically) headed for the forest behind your house; it was your idea to take the unofficial path you’d trekked with your horse a number of times before. You came to a stop outside the tree line, and Alex held his hand out to you. You knew you didn’t need help getting onto Lizzie’s back, and you knew Alex probably knew that too, but you took his hand anyway, hauling yourself up onto the horse and clutching the front of her saddle to steady yourself. Alex hopped on behind you, his chest almost touching your back as he reached around you to grab the reins. You knew the close contact couldn’t be helped, but that didn’t stop you from blushing at the proximity.

He tapped the side of his boot against Lizzie’s side, urging her into an idle trot as he directed her into the forest. The scene was like something out of a fantasy novel: a couple of downed trees lined the path, covered in overgrown moss; you could make out the occasional cluster of mushrooms; and sunlight filtered down through the trees branches overhead, casting the path you were navigating in an otherworldly glow. You were half expecting fairies to start whizzing by. Behind you, Alex let out a low whistle. “This sure is pretty.”

You nodded. “I like coming out here when I can with my horse.”

“And what’s ‘er name?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you mumbled.

That only piqued his curiosity. “Embarrassin’? How could it be embarrassin’?”

You sucked in a breath before quickly muttering, “Twilightsparkle.”

“Sorry?” His knee bumped against the back of your thigh; whether intentionally or not, you didn’t know. “You’re gonna have t’ repeat that one for me.”

“Twilight Sparkle.”

Silence followed.

And then, in possibly the most mortifying outcome, he guffawed. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“I got her when I was a child,” you said defensively. “I wasn’t exactly a name aficionado.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he chuckled. “Ain’t that one of the … oh, what’s that show-“

“My Little Pony,” you mumbled.

You could feel him nodding behind you. “Yeah, My Little Pony. You liked it when you were young, then?”

You nodded. Suddenly, you thought it wouldn’t be so bad if a giant hole opened up in the ground and swallowed you. “Twilight Sparkle was my favorite character, so when my parents got me my own horse, it felt fitting. I call her Twilight for short.”

“Just Twilight is less embarrassin’ than throwin’ the sparkle on.”

“You don’t have to keep rubbing it in, you know.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled again. “Definitely not the worst thing you coulda named ‘er, though.”

You rose an eyebrow and looked at him over your shoulder. “There are worse things?”

“Lot worse.”

“Like what?”

He grew silent, his expression turning to one of contemplation as he mulled it over. “One o’ my friends in the mountains is like you - got a horse when he was a kid. He named ‘im, uh … what’s the full thing …” Another few seconds of silent thought, and then he smiled. “Armageddon the Destroyer. The Third. Dunno where the first two came from.”

It took every last bit of restraint you had to not burst into giggles. “Armageddon the Destroyer the Third?”

He nodded. “He’s still got that damn horse, too. Likes to just call him Destroyer now.”

“Which friend of yours is this?”

“Matt Helders. If ya ever get to meet ‘im, don’t tell him I told you all this. He’ll throw me off the nearest mountain.”

You didn’t think you ever would meet him, but you made a mental note to keep this story to yourself if you did.

The three of you (it was only fair to count Lizzie, you thought) continued down the path, falling into a tranquil silence. You pet Lizzie’s mane and occasionally scratched behind her ears, eliciting a sound that you assumed was her way of showing appreciation.

Abruptly, you asked, “Are you a cowboy?”

There was a pause. “You asked that yesterday.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t get to answer.”

“Hm …” He sighed. “I certainly look the part, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess technically, yeah, although, er, I don’t really go around callin’ myself one.”

That was fair, you supposed. “So is it, like, a generational thing?”

“Yeah. My dad was one, his dad was one, so on and so forth … the farm life’s the only thing I’ve ever known.”

“Do you like it?”

“Like it?” He snorted. “I wouldn’t trade it for a damn thing.”

You were going to be sad to see Alex go.

•••••

“I’m taking a bath,” you called down the stairs.

There was a beat of silence, then your mother called back, “Okay!”

It was the night before Alex would be leaving. He’d been an incredibly helpful guest; he’d always helped with chores without having to be asked, and your father thought him especially helpful because he kept you out of his hair whenever you got bored. You’d been taken out on Lizzie a number of times, told dozens of stories from Alex’s childhood and adulthood, and he’d even played songs for you on the acoustic guitar your father owned but never used. For the first time in years, probably, it’d gone a day without collecting dust.

You shut the door to the bathroom and stepped over to the tub, making sure to plug the drain before turning the faucet on and watching as the water began to rain down. As you waited, your thoughts drifted back to Alex - not just the stories he’d shared or the skill with which he’d played your father’s guitar, but the way he made you feel. You didn’t really like it; for one, you weren’t used to feeling that way about people, but you also knew nothing could ever come out of it. He was going off to the mountains to see his friends, and after that, you’d probably never see him again. He was always destined to just be a blip in your world. Plus, you felt incredibly silly for feeling anything at all, considering it’d only been a few days. Maybe you just needed to talk to people more often …

Once the tub was filled, you turned the faucet off and stripped out of your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. You stepped into the tub and sank down into the warm water, letting out a sigh of relief; it was an instant balm to your aching bones. You closed your eyes, content to think of literally anything, but your brain kept wandering back to Alex. His perfect eyes, his perfect smile, his perfect beard and perfect chest and perfect arms and perfect legs and perfect ass that you had unashamedly stared at once. Okay, maybe you were ashamed now, but at the time, you'd had to pinch your arm just to get yourself to stop staring like an idiot. You were hopeless.

You had seen him shirtless once. On one of the days where there was too much work and it was too hot to do it all. You were convinced you were going to explode when you saw him, chest and abs bared and sweating in the summer heat. He was probably used to being shirtless in weather like that, but that didn't mean you were prepared to see it. When he'd seen you gawking like a fool, he'd apologized and offered to put his shirt back on, but you'd told him it was okay and that he didn't have to under the guise of not wanting him to overheat. Deep down, though, you wanted to be able to ogle him, just for a little longer.

Were you only physically attracted to him? That thought haunted you like an unseen phantom as you worked shampoo into your wet hair. Of course he was attractive - he had the perfect body, in your eyes - but was that the only reason he appealed to you? You didn't think it was; you knew it would be a lot easier to get over his absence if that was just the case.

He would be gone tomorrow morning.

That became your mantra for the rest of your bath, and you kept repeating it to yourself as you dried off, emptied the tub, and got dressed for bed. He would be gone tomorrow morning. You left the bathroom and headed down the hall, stepping into your room. He would be gone tomorrow morning. You shut your door and let yourself succumb to the warmth and comfort of your bed, making sure to turn your bedside lamp off before drifting off to sleep. He would be gone tomorrow morning.

“Hey. Y/N. Wake up.”

“Huh?” You forced your eyes open and stared up at the partially illuminated figure that hovered above you. "Alex?" you mumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanna show you somethin'," he whispered.

"It's late. Can't you show me in the morning?"

"Nope." He shook his head for emphasis. "Gotta show ya now."

You felt like a parent arguing with their child.

You forced yourself out of bed and slipped your shoes on at his request before following him out of your room and downstairs. You were expecting to go out the front door, but he led you through the back, making sure to be extra quiet to avoid waking your parents until you were both outside. You were both still in your pajamas, and you were still trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes. You followed him into the forest behind your house, confusion settling across your features when he suddenly deviated from your usual path and led you to a different part of the forest. What the hell was he doing?

Eventually, he stopped, and you nearly crashed into him. "We're here."

"You dragged me outside in the middle of the night for-" The words died out in your throat as you realized what you were seeing.

You'd never gone this deep into the forest before, so you had no idea a scene like this even existed. The trees opened up in a wide circle, revealing a little pond surrounded by different stones. The grass was soft as it brushed against your ankles, and flowers were scattered all across the ground, practically beaming up at you. You felt like you'd stepped into some pocket dimension.

"Come on." Alex nudged you and stepped further into the clearing, and it was at that moment that you became aware of the blanket tucked under his left arm.

Your brows furrowed. "What's the blanket for?"

You watched as he laid it out in the grass, making sure it was neat and straight and there weren't any rocks hiding under it for your body to find before straightening up and smiling softly at you. "Stargazin'."

Oh. You weren't annoyed at him for waking you up anymore.

You walked over and sat down on the blanket, removing your shoes and setting them off to the side before stretching yourself out. You stared up at the sky, mystified by the sheer number of stars you could see. "It's so pretty," you breathed.

"I was hopin' you'd like it."

You turned your head to look at him as he laid beside you. "Did you find this just for me?"

He nodded, his smile turning a bit sheepish. "I'd sorta stumbled on it the other day when I was out here. I've been meanin' to show it to you."

"Thank you, Alex."

"Ah, don't mention it." He turned his head to look up at the stars, and you stared at him for a beat too long before doing the same.

Silence consumed the both of you, broken by the occasional chirp or drone of some nearby insect. You didn't know what possessed you to shatter the silence and say anything, but after a few minutes, you quietly confessed, "I don't want you to go."

It took a couple of seconds for Alex to respond. "Why not?"

"I don't know." You crumpled up the fabric of your shirt between your fingers. "The last few days have been really nice, and I don't really want all this to end."

"I can't say I'm particularly fond o' goin', either," he mumbled, letting out a sigh afterwards. "I'd like to see my friends, of course, but ... y'know."

"Yeah."

Another minute passed, and then he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as his elbow dug into the blanket. "Y/N, can I ask you somethin'?"

"You just did, technically," you said, looking up at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, smartass. You know what I mean."

"Go ahead."

"Have you ever ..." He trailed off, his expression growing pensive as he searched for the right words. "You ever left home before?"

You blinked in surprise. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting him to ask, but it wasn't that. "Uh ... no. Why?"

He shrugged, as if to brush it off and act nonchalant, but you could tell he was hiding something. "Just thought I'd ask."

"You're a bad liar, Alex."

"Why would I be lyin'?"

"I don't know. Why are you lying?"

He sighed. "I guess ... I dunno. It'd be nice if I could bring ya with me. I think you'd like my friends."

Oh. There was that fluttering sensation in your stomach. "You want me to go with you?"

"It'd be nice if you could," he corrected. "Way too late for that to get worked out. Plus, your parents might kill me. Or your dad would. Your mom's a real sweetheart."

"She does hate killing bugs," you mused. You thought on what he'd just said. "Why would you want me to go with you?"

He looked off at the pond, growing silent as he tried to figure out how to say whatever was on his mind. You waited patiently, and eventually, your patience paid off. "I think I'm growin' attached to you."

You stared at him. "What?"

He looked down at you. "I said it in English."

You wanted to slap him. "What do you mean, you're-"

"I like ya, Y/N. As in, I think you're cute, and maybe I wanna kiss ya."

If you were going to explode when you saw him shirtless, you were sure you were about to turn into a nuclear bomb.

"Oh," you managed.

He rose an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that it?"

"Well, I mean-" You sat up and turned your head to look at him. "I don't think ... I'd mind it if you kissed me," you mumbled.

He stared at you, his eyes widening minutely before going back to their original size. Now it was his turn to say, "Oh." He cleared his throat and sat up fully, looking down at the blanket you were sat on. He eventually looked back up at you. "So ... can I-"

You cut him off by crashing your lips against his.

It took him no time at all to react. His hand went to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as your mouths slotted together perfectly. You didn't want this moment to end, but too soon was he pulling away to stare down at you. "Christ," he breathed. He dipped his head down to kiss you again, and again, and again. The onslaught of pecks made you giggle. Your blood was practically singing in your veins.

When he finally stopped kissing you, you smiled up at him. "I didn't realize cowboys were such softies."

He scowled, although you could tell there was no real malice behind it. "What, am I supposed to act all mean an' tough around a cute girl?"

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Call me cute again, and I'll get a big head.

"You'd still look cute if your head was the size of the moon," he hummed, leaning in to kiss you one last time.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed yourself closer to him, listening to his heart as it thrummed against his ribcage. "The next time you go to visit your friends, you should take me with you," you mumbled.

He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head and murmured, "It's a deal, sweetheart."

"And I promise I won't bring up Armageddon the Destroyer the Third in front of Matt."

He let out a breathless chuckle and pinched your side, making you yelp. "If you do, I'm leavin' you up there to deal with him."

tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay

[casualbystander98]

Kink Education Time - Etiquette

Alright, everyone, I'm gonna peel back the curtain a little bit and talk about some things I think you should know. I've been involved in kink for a very large part of my life, and, in that time, I've seen a marked decrease in people who know what proper "etiquette" is for kinksters. If that applies to you, it's not your fault. When I learned about kink, I was taught by long-time veteran kinksters who imparted this information to me. Learning about kink through a book, or a tiktoker, or some article doesn't give you the same education, and you can't be blamed for that. Even if you do think you already know this, maybe give it a read anyway? A good kinkster should always be willing to learn.

Part 1 - Titles

So, this is something I'm personally very lenient on. However, many, MANY kink veterans take massive offense to having people assume titles (such as "daddy", or "master", or even "sir" depending on the dominant). This doesn't just apply to dominants, of course; calling a random submissive "slut" or "toy" is, generally, unwelcome without a prior established dynamic.

A good rule of thumb when you're thinking about using a title on someone is simple: ASK. And, if they say no for WHATEVER reason, respect that. There is a concept in kink spaces of a "consent violation", and using a title on someone without asking counts as one. I will discuss those in a later part. For me, personally, I do not mind people using titles on me, other than the title "dad", which I've covered before.

Part 2 - Bratting and Dynamic Styles

Any d/s (dominant/submissive) dynamic involves, at its core, an exchange of power. No dominant has power over a submissive that the submissive didn't grant the dominant. Always remember that given power is LOANED, not permanently gifted, and any submissive can choose to take their power back at any time if they feel that they are not being treated well in their dynamic.

Bratting, therefore, is where a submissive temporarily steals some power back in such a way that the dominant will be enticed to punish them. At its simplest, bratting is a vehicle to deliver pain to a masochist. In my experience, bratting has become one of the most common submission styles in recent years. I believe that that is due to the fact that it's easier to give power to someone when you know that you can take some of it back on occasion. However, there are strict rules you need to follow to brat in a healthy way, especially online.

First, not every dominant wants a brat. That's not a moral failing on their part, or them not being able to "handle" a brat. Some people just don't have much interest in having to fight their submissive to get them to follow orders on a regular basis, and that's entirely valid. Respect when a dominant does not want to have a dynamic with a brat, and, likewise, if you're a brat and that's the kind of dynamic you want, do not attempt to engage in a dynamic with someone who doesn't want a brat. Every dynamic needs to be balanced, and both sides need to want the same "style" of a dynamic.

Second, bratting is not bratting if you do not follow through. In a physical dynamic, if a submissive acts bratty, a dominant can (if the dynamic allows) simply spank or paddle or otherwise punish their submissive for their misbehaving. In any long-distance or online-only dynamic, this is impossible. Think about it. At the absolute most, all an online dominant can do is video call you and look stern and disapproving. They can't do anything to force a stop to any bratty behavior without you holding up your end. The only ethical way to be a brat in an online dynamic is to follow these three rules:

1. Do not brat to someone who doesn't want a brat dynamic.

2. If you're given orders to follow, and you want to brat by not following the orders, you must give your dominant an easy way to find out that you didn't follow them. Or, better yet, tell them yourself that you didn't follow them.

3. If you're given a punishment, you MUST follow through with it. End of story.

Brats brat because they want to be punished. If you don't want to be punished, if you just want to "poke the bear", you don't want to be a brat. You want to be a pain in the ass. That's going to be pretty universally unwelcome. Also, as before, if you're unsure if someone wants to engage in bratting with you: ASK. Pushing someone into a dynamic style that they're uncomfortable with is, again, a consent violation.

Part 3 - Consent Violations

Kink is sometimes messy, when it comes to consent. The rules are far more complex. Everyone wants to think that they'd never do something without someone else's consent, but mistakes happen, and many folks don't realize just how easy it is to violate consent.

However, just because you did something without consent does not make you a rapist. This is INCREDIBLY important. Mistakes happen in kink, and it doesn't make the person who made the mistake an irredeemable abuser. Consent violations ARE NOT sexual assault, although sexual assault is an extreme kind of consent violation. All a consent violation is is just that: a time that you did something without someone's consent.

It is absolutely vital to have room for the concept of consent violations in kink. We need to be able to hold each other accountable without hurling weighty accusations around. No one is saying that we should call instances of rape or sexual abuse "consent violations" to reduce their impact or their weight. However, using the term "consent violation" allows you to 1) enforce your boundaries and limits, and 2) inform others that someone did not respect your boundaries and limits. Consent violation as a concept is a fantastic safety tool for any kinkster. Embrace it.

That's all I have for today. Thanks for allowing me to get up on a soap box. I may make another post like this in the future, if I feel that it's needed. Stay safe, everyone.

[kaliforniahigh]

Be my baby, I'll look after you.

Noah x reader with needle phobia.

TW: mentions of hospitals, needles, blood and medications.

WC: 1.2k

Noah cradled you in his arms as you cried on his bed. The room was pitch dark and the curtains were drawn. Your migraine has been giving you a hard time ever since the beginning of the week. With today being Wednesday, you couldn't take it anymore and finally broke down.

Your medicine wasn't helping and neither was the cold cap that Noah kept in the refrigerator for you, to be used in moments like this. You were frustrated because nothing seems to be working for you.

Granted, your crying wasn't helping either, but you couldn't care less at this point. Your head already felt like it was going to explode.

"Sweetheart, you haven't eaten anything all day, maybe you're hungry and it's making your headache worse?" Noah tried to reason with you, even though he knew when you were like this, chances are you're going to throw up anything you tried to eat.

"I don't want to eat, I'm afraid I'm going to throw up" you told him in a small voice.

"Oh baby, but maybe that could make you feel better?" you shook your head, not understanding how throwing up could possibly make you feel better.

He laid there with you in his arms, feeling his heart break every time a sob racked through you and every time you cradled your head to try and make the pain go away. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Baby, we're gonna have to go to the hospital" as soon as he said these words, your grip on him tightened and you shook your head vigorously. He already knew this was going to be another battle completely.

"I don't want to go there, you remember what happened last time, I don't want that to happen again". And of course he remembered, how could he forget?

You went to have your medication administered. Noah asked you if you wanted him to go with you, but you refused, you actually thought you could do this yourself.

10 minutes later, a nurse went to get him in the waiting room and he found you sitting on a recliner, tears streaming down your face, your arms already purple from the prodding. He really had to control himself so as not to give the nurses a dirty look. He knew that most likely it wasn't their fault.

He crouched down next to you. "What happened, sweetheart?"

"They poked me 4 times with the needle! And every single time my vein blew and there was blood all over my arms" you cried out, trying to dry your tears with your hands, but they were flowing rapidly. "I want to go home, I don't wanna be here anymore. Please take me home".

And honestly, how could he deny you? He just wanted to get you in his car, take you home, give you a shower and then cuddle you until you felt better.

"Do you feel ok to stand up?" he asked you and you nodded. "Ok then, baby. Let's get you home".

He helped you get up from the recliner and you instantly clung to his side.

"Sir, her medication has not been administered. By taking her home, she'll be refusing treatment."

"That is ok, ma'am. I'll be taking care of her at home"

After that day, he knew you took several steps back in your journey to try and overcome your fear of needles. But, unfortunately, at some point, you would have to go back to the hospital, and he really couldn't see you suffer like this anymore.

"How about this, I take you to the hospital and I don't let you out of my sight, and if something you don't like happens, I'll take you home immediately".

You thought about his words, and you knew he meant them. You also couldn't bear the pain in your head anymore. And you knew if you just laid there it was never going to go away.

"Ok, you can take me, but it has to be a different hospital this time" you looked at him, but he was already getting up from the bed.

"That's a deal. I'll help you put on some comfy clothes and then I'll drive us".

The ride to the hospital was mostly quiet. You worn a sleep mask so the light wouldn't bother your eyes so much.

Part of you hoped the doctor would just give you some oral medication, but you already knew that wasn't happening. Noah answered some questions on your behalf, and you even heard him explaining about your needle phobia, but you couldn't understand much due to your foggy mental state.

He prescribed you an IV and the nurse led you and Noah to a treatment room. As you laid down on the hospital bed and saw the nurse preparing the medication along with the needle that was about to pierce your skin, you paled and began to hyperventilate. You looked at Noah as if to say "please help me, I don't think I can do this".

Noah, who always paid close attention to your reactions, noticed immediately that you would soon have a panic attack, and he had to do something about it before it got worse.

He called out for the nurse, who turned around and looked at both of you with kind eyes. "The doctor mentioned that intranasal sedation could be an option for her since she has needle phobia. I was wondering if we could try that before you try to put in the IV?"

"Yes, of course. Is that something you would be interested in, honey?" She asked, turning to you. Sensing your apprehension, she explained to you that intranasal sedation involved spraying in your nose a small dose of sedative, that would make you relax and just a tiny bit groggy. But, would also make the situation less traumatic and painful for you.

You looked at Noah, trying to gauge his opinion, but he just nodded, communicating with you that this could be a good option.

As the sedative did it's job, your head instantly felt lighter, your hands unclenched and your body relaxed. You heard Noah say something along the lines of "you're doing so well and I'm so proud of you", but you just concentrated on the feeling of walking on cloud nine. You really couldn't remember the last time you were so at ease inside a hospital.

When you turned your head to the side, Noah was looking at you with so much adoration you felt at a loss for words. He was slowly stroking your hair and slightly massaging your scalp. The stress and exhaustion from the week finally caught up to you and you drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Meanwhile, Noah felt at ease watching you being at ease. Witnesseing you struggling and crying every time he had to take you to the hospital absolutely broke his heart. He hated watching the love of his life suffer and he ultimately felt helpless.

He was glad that today he could help you somehow. And he knew he would do it every time, he would protect and defend you every time if it meant making life easier for you.

[justanofficeworker]

TW: This Fic contains kidnapping, dub con, NSFW scenes, Stockholm syndrome among other things. Please do not read if these themes upset or disturb you. That being said, welcome and enjoy the ride.

A/n: Thank you for waiting for this chapter, after like 2 weeks of writers block and not knowing how to pull story beats together its done. I'm gonna start chapter 3 next Monday and hopefully release it before Friday. As always thank you for your support and drop a follow if you like my work.

Chapter 2- The date

You could hear what sounded like rattling metal as you ended your call with Simon. ‘Probably the dog he had mentioned at the store’ you thought to yourself as you began to frantically sift through your closet. It was a simple coffee date, no need to get dolled up. Maybe just a cute top and some jeans. “Yeah this should work “ you say aloud as you lay out your outfit for tomorrow.It had been so long since you went on an actual date.  Sure you had the occasional hook up and to be truthful a lot of them, were not up to snuff. But this coffee date was something to actively look forward to. Simon was polite and patient from what you could tell. He had suggested somewhere highly public and not tried to get you to his place immediately . Maybe all your waiting had finally paid off and you had found an actual nice guy. “Let's just hope he’s not some kind of serial killer” you mused to your house plant as you passed it on the way out your bedroom and to your now cooling bath. Now all you had to do was relax and let tomorrow come. 

Simon pov

Simon was late. Johnny had decided he needed to be a brat as soon as Simon made his way to the front door. Pulling at Simon's belt , murmuring ‘just’ a quickie, fer good luck and’ a clear head’ he had murmured. That quickie ended up being more of a half hour event, with Johnny whining for him to ‘go harder, please sir, wanna feel you while you catch our bird’. Granted Simon did have a clear head as he walked through the door to the small-ish coffee shop you’d agreed to meet him in. Panning his vision across the small space yielded a sight that could make an angel fall. There you sat, eyes wet , idly stirring what looked like a chocolate flavored coffee topped with pink sprinkles. God you looked so dejected , like everything that could go wrong in the world had all happened just before Simon had walked in. Slowly, Simon made his way towards you internally cursing Johnny for being so persuasive in his efforts to hop on his dick and spin. 

“Ello lil bird, I'm sorry to be so late,” Simon remarked as he stopped , right behind Beanie’s chair.

The brown skinned woman sat up quickly , blinking away un-shed tears. “Oh shit, Simon, heeeey. I figured  you wouldn't show” She greeted , turning in her seat. Simon felt lower than low, seeing the wetness in her eyes gather and release a single tear that she quickly wiped away.

“God you must think I'm well and truly an ass' ' Simon retorted with a sad crow “my dog decided he wanted to make a mess right as I was leavin my house. If I had known it would take so long to clean, I would have just left" Simon's eyebrow furrowed at that last remark, sudden anger foreign.

“May i?” he gestured to the chair opposite you. 

Nodding you avert your eyes to look at the door , suddenly thinking about whether or not you should just make a run for it. “ you know normally if someone is this late to a date i leave” you quip , hoping to hide your nerves.

“Yeah? Well I'm honored that you decided to stay. I hate to admit it but you've been on my mind since yesterday. I’ve gotta tell ya I'm curious, who are you , where you've been , what you want and how i can factor into those plans. You are mesmerizing "Simon finished , in awe of you all but glow under his complements. a feeling shoots up your spine as you feel you face heat at the confession.No one had ever said something so deep to you and been genuine . Most of the time guys would say ‘deep’ shit to try to charm their way into your bed. Maybe it was because Simon was hot and made you feel butterflies in very inappropriate areas or maybe his vulnerability was something you craved , you weren't sure yet. You did know that you were going to keep Simon in your life for as long as he would let you cling. Plus he had a dog and everyone loves dogs.

“That's a lofty ask Simon , maybe I'll tell you who i am on this date and for each date I'll answer one of you questions. But you gotta answer them too” you bargain. Simon seems pleased that you want to know him just as much as he wants to know you.

“ Well then Simon, my name is Y/n L/n, most people call me Beanie. I’m 27 and i work from home as a freelance book editor. My favorite desert is flan and house plant tending is my hobby." Beanie formally introduces herself , much like one would do in front of class at the beginning of a school semester.You look at Simon expectantly. 

“ oh um ,’ he starts “My name is Simon Riley, Simon is fine, I'm 37 and I'm a retired military vet. Not by choice mind you, ended up with a bad injury and got discharged with a couple of my men. Now i just garden and take care of an old geezer of a dog.”

You and Simon talked for another hour before the cashier announced the shop would be closing early due to some sort of electrical issue. Simon took this as the perfect time to draw your date to a close and promising that he would text you later. You agreed that it was a good idea to end here and make plans for a later meeting.

_____________________________________________

Your second date, a week later , ended up being your idea. A quiet afternoon at a local park for a picnic.

“Well Simon, your next question of where I’ve been” you said propping yourself up on your elbows. “I’ve been to the states, Canada, the Caribbean. Ive got family there , but we don’t talk much. And finally London. I ended up staying and applying for a citizenship after my work visa ran out and i gotta say, i like it here.” You finish with a giggle. You’d been looking forward to this date all week.

Simon was so open and honest, telling at length about his injury and it felt to basically repurpose his life after being discharged. You couldn’t imagine having to reboot how you went about your life so abruptly. He was so strong for that. Handsome, kind and thoughtful, Simon had even gotten you a bouquet of peonies, your favorite flower. You weren't entirely sure how he knew, but it was thoughtful none the less.

Simon looked deep in thought before he responded “ originally born an’ raised in Manchester, though during my military career I've seen all corners of the world , but I’m much more content with the more rural areas of London”. Simon looked off into the distance, surveying the park goers when he caught sight of a black and brown blurred bee lining straight for you.

One second you were turning your head to see what Simon was looking for and the next you were in his lap as a very hyper doberman barreled right through the spot you had been sitting in. A very frantic dog walker yelling an apology as he dashed passed, leash in hand. A giggle tumbled out of your mouth as you watched the pair until they were out of sight. It was only then that you realized , you were suddenly very close to your date.

Your eyes met his and it was kind of like fate. Like the stars had aligned and pushed your two souls into each other's orbit , willing you to meet. Your eyes connect and Simon leans closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Till his lips are just barely ghosting over yours. 'screw this waitin shit' you think as you surge forward, closing the distance and sharing a searing kiss. His lips tasted like the strawberries you had brought and the champagne Simon surprised you with when you had met at his car. It was like everything clicked together and the world stopped for a brief second. Sadly you both had to breath at some point and you pulled away.

"Oh wow" you sighed, almost giddy with the lack of oxygen. "I've never been one to kiss on the second date, but that felt"

"right?" Simon finished your sentence for you. " to be honest I've never felt as comfortable as i do with you." he reveled , holding you close.

You stayed like that for a while, sun beginning to set and the park lights flickering on. Soon it was time for you to leave. You folded and packed away your picnic basket and made your way back to Simon's car. he had insisted that he take you home, the drive to your building was comfortably silent , the radio playing some new love song by an obscure boy band. It didn't occur to you that you hadn't given him your address, too love struck for the thought to register.

The drive wasn't long and soon you were parked outside of your home, Simon slipping out to open your door and walk you up the stairs. "I had a nice time, thank you for the picnic" you say to to Simon suddenly shy as Simon crowded you against the door.He leaned down, close to your ear and said " for our next date , I'll take you somewhere real fancy, wear something pretty for me , ok?" he voice soft and velvety. Planting a quick kiss on your cheek he stepped back and winked. You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, face hot. "yeeah, yep. c-call me when you get home k!' you stammer as you unlock your door and slip inside under Simon's watchful eyes.

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

Simon signed as he watched your door slide shut. Your date was a success and soon, so very soon you would be home with him and johnny. You had felt so soft in his arms and now that he had had a taste of you , there was no substitute. he just had to get you home, without damaging you too much. He had the whole drive home to finalize his thoughts.

Pulling up the gravel drive way , he could see johnny lazing on the front porch, face tight in concentration as he sketched on a drawing pad, near manic in he fervor.

"ech-em" Simon cleared his throat, jolting johnny out of his thoughts, "Jesus, ye big bastard. Did ya need to scare me half to death?" he admonished as he set aside his art supplies. Simon chuckled a the Scot's crassness, "And here i was ready to tell you how my date went with our bird and all i get is yelled at. Maybe I should' Simon trails off as johnny all but bum-rushes him, shouting obscenities as he forcefully pulls Simon towards their front door and into the living room , where he promptly shoves Simon down onto the couch and straddles his lap with an expectant look. " now, tell me everything" johnny pushes , blue eyes wide an waiting.

Simon lets out a warm laugh as his hands run up and down the fat of johnny's ass and thighs, gripping and groping every now and then. "There's my eager puppy. You wanna know all there is to know about our precious bird, dont'cha?" Simon pulling his lover close so he can whisper into his ear. “Her favorite fruit is strawberries, want to taste?” He teases as johnny rears back and smashes his lips with Simon’s. Johnny can only whine as Simon's tongue slip's past his lips.

They had much to 'discuss'.

[l1tw1ck]

It's the prev moon knight anon and let me tell you. If you write sub ftm steven grant office sex. I will literally explode. I love the way you write him and I need it to tattoo into my brain.

New Boss (3)?!

bottom!ftm steven x top!masc!boss reader

☆ AFAB Language Used ☆

:3c [Part One]

CW: Semi-Public Sex, Praise, Riding, Creampie

Steven walks into your office looking desperate. He locks the door behind him and hurries over to you, quickly climbing onto your lap before you can even process what's happening.

“It's too much, sir-” He whines. “Please..”

You smile softly. “You did so well today.” You take your phone and turn off the vibrator that was previously buzzing in his cunt. He wore it all day like you asked. “Do you want your reward now?” You ask, running your hands up his body. He nods rapidly. You make quick work of his clothes, completely stripping him down to nothing. Steven fishes out your hard cock, only unzipping your fly and pulling your underwear down rather than taking your pants off entirely. There's just something about you in your work clothes that drives him crazy.

He sinks himself down onto your length, his cunt greedily enveloping your cock. Steven wraps his arms around your neck and starts to ride you. He doesn't hold back his moans at all. The whole office knows he's yours, why hide it? He soon loses himself to the pleasure, the feeling of your cock rubbing his sensitive walls makes him unable to think. His body's basically on autopilot as he bounces, he usually gets sloppier and needs your help when he gets close to an orgasm but right now, he's moving faster than normal. You expected him to be too overstimulated to even ride you.

“Gonna- gonna come, sir~!” He cries out, rubbing his clit. “Yes- yes!” He throws his head back and orgasms. He slows down and starts gyrating his hips, moving sinfully on your cock. In the span of a few days, Steven transformed from a slightly perverted virgin to a complete whore.

“Aren't you tired?” You ask.

Steven shakes his head. “Wanna make you come too.”

“Well I’m not going to if you tease me like this, baby.”

Steven pulls himself off you and turns around, sinking right back down onto you. He holds onto the desk and starts moving. His ass looks heavenly as he rides you. You could come in seconds. “Fuck, just like that, Steven.” You spank his ass, mesmerized by the sight before you. He moans, moving faster to please you.

Just a few minutes later you grace Steven’s insides with your spend, painting his pussy white.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Yang: Alright, Yang. You got this. It might be early, but you can do this. You're just.... planning for the future. (Takes a deep breath and enters Shade Academy's library where Ghira is reading over reports) Afternoon, Sir.

Ghira: Yang, this is a pleasant surprise. What brings you in? And, again, it's Ghira.

Yang: Right... (clears her throat) Ghira, if I might be blunt?

Ghira: (blinks) Of course. But, what is this all about?

Yang: (blushing and solidifies her resolve) I want to ask Blake to marry me.

Ghira: (blinks silently)

Yang: N-Not now! Obviously, things are still new and... well, we're in a war.... But once everything calms down and we find a new normal, I want to propose.

Ghira: .......And why are you bringing this up to me?

Yang: I... uh... kind of feel like I need to ask for your blessing. I get that the relationship between humans and faunus isn't exactly stellar. But it is getting better, and I want to prove that I mean business when I say I love Blake and would never in my wildest nightmares do anything to hurt her.

Ghira: (arches an eyebrow) This isn't just because I'm the Chieftain of the largest settlement of Faunus in Remnant and you want a badge of approval to hide behind?

Yang: (confused stare) What? That's a thing? Absolutely not! You're her father, for dust's sake! I want to let you know my intentions with your daughter and ask for your blessing! Blake might be the first person I've ever loved, but I'm a woman who knows what she wants. And I want to love her for the rest of our lives and make her happy. And once I'm done here, I'm gonna go do this whole thing with Mrs. B too!

Ghira: (blinks for the fifth time) Then why come to me first?

Yang: .....Honestly, you're the first one I found.

Ghira: (Chuckles softly) Well, I wouldn't worry about my wife. If anything, I'd avoid telling her your intentions because she can't keep a secret. Granted, I don't think that's going to matter.

Yang: What... do you mean?

Ghira: (motions towards the door)

Yang: (glances at the door)

Blake: (standing shell-shocked in the doorway with a tray of tea)

Yang: (awkwardly) H-Hey, Blakey! Uh, how much of that did you hear???

Blake: (glances at Ghira)

Ghira: (nods in approval)

Blake: (practically throws the tray down on a table and nearly tackles Yang to the floor) I love you, and when the time comes. I will absolutely marry you.

Yang: (volume 9 post tackle look and softens as she hugs Blake back) I love you too.

[girlboybug]

You Can Be the Boss

"he has a white corvette like i want it, a fire in his eyes no i saw it, he's bleeding from his brain and his wallet, he's sick and he's taken but honest."

or the one where you're javier's current favorite informant but steve doesn't quite trust you.

what’s playing 🎧 : you can be the boss by lana del rey

pairing : javier pena x reader x steve murphy

word count : 8k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, threesome, soft!dom javi, brat tamer! steve, rough sex, face fucking, blowjobs, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, manhandling, good cop bad cop type beat, sir kink, dash of officer kink, use of cuffs, light slapping, degrading, denied orgasms, sprinkle of edging, unspecified age gap, references to anal but no actual anal, (sorry to my anal enjoyers), bisexual coded javi and steve ;3

a visual, for your viewing pleasure ;)

TRIGGER WARNINGS : dubcon (power imbalance), steve is a big ol meanie ;((, implied of infidelity, (?) if there's anything i missed pls lmk!!

a/n : once again need to state i am not caught up on narcos, my spanish is non-existent, timelines might b wonky, and idk if connie and steve get back together, but in this they're separated lolz, anyways pls enjoy!! <3

his hand feels warm when he rests it over your thigh, curling his fingers over your skin, rubbing his large palm back and forth. “can i get you something to drink?” he asks softly, keeping his words hushed and gentle. 

you stare blankly ahead, nodding. he pats your thigh, rising from the couch before he disappears into his kitchen. 

when he returns, he bends down in front of you, squatting just beneath your eye level, taking your hand in his. your eyes slowly drag down to him, watching as he molds your hand around the glass for you, running his fingers across your knuckles before his touch migrates to your chin, holding it with care. 

“you’re okay.” he promises, and he looks like he means it, but you don’t believe it despite wishing with your entire being that his words were the truth. “javi, if they find out i’ve been telling you all this–” he unclenches your grip around the glass, setting it down on his coffee table and replacing it with his hand. his fingers lace with yours, allowing you to squeeze him instead. 

“they’re not gonna find out. you’re staying with me for now, and i’ll work something out at the embassy, we’ll get you out of here, for good.” he murmurs, his words smooth and calm, caressing around the shell of your ears, trying his best to coax you out of the numb, scared state you’ve dwindled down into. 

“what’s the use of leaving colombia if they’ll just find me in america?” your words tremble from your unsteady lips, and he sighs, leaning in to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. 

he kisses your forehead, trailing down to press his lips down the slope of your nose, stopping just before his lips meet your own. “they won’t find you, you have my word.” he forms his oath to you in a quiet breath, his words falling to your lips. you take them in, trying your best to let them resonate, in hopes that you’ll believe it. 

you tilt your head upwards, just enough to reach the curve of his lips. you press them to yours, leaning in closer towards him, wishing you could just fall into him. 

he’s quick to reciprocate, quick to catch you. he holds your cheeks in his hands, cradling you into him. your lips click and connect, the sound of your lips together, his warmth, the way he feels a part of you in this moment settles your swirling nerves back into a complacent, dormant state. 

you hum a content sigh in his mouth, your shoulders dropping relaxedly when he kisses you deeply, letting you pour yourself into him. he’ll drink your worries, your fears, your anything into him, he’ll take it all from you if you allow him to. 

if javi is anything, he’s consistent. consistent in always being the place you can go to forget about the whirlwind of shit you’re in. granted it’s temporary, but most good things tend to be. 

the door pushes open and you gasp, jerking back from javier, instinctively moving behind him. he rushes to guard you, angling his body in front of yours. his shoulders droop with a sudden irritated deflation, huffing in annoyance while he watches his partner walk in, eyes following his casual movements as if he didn’t just give you an actual heart attack. 

the tall blonde man drops his coat on the table, shutting the door with a push of his heel against the white wood.

he drags a tired hand down his cheek before he turns to eye you two suspiciously, well you suspiciously. “yeah sure why not,” javier shrugs, holding your knees towards him, keeping you still with his hand under your lap. “make yourself at home.” he mutters while steve paces over to your sitting figures. 

you look up at him silently, his glare is fast to land on you. “oh yeah because i’m interrupting something super important here right?” he flicks a brow, scoffing when he loosens his tie. 

“yeah actually,” javier nods, and steve rolls his eyes, his hands falling to his hips, looking down at you like an unbelieving teacher ready to scold his most troublesome students. “alright, what’s she doin’ here then, y’know, besides the shit you usually do with your ‘informants’?” you glare back at him, not understanding why he always seems to have a general distaste for your presence. 

“she just gave me information we couldn’t beat out of someone,” and steve nods, his fingers rubbing at his stubble, tongue in his cheek, nodding with faux assurance. “uh huh. and what would that be?” 

“she knows the route escobar’s gonna be using to his next hide out. she knows who’s accompanying him, she knows the times–steve,” his warmth leaves you when he stands to match his partner’s stature. “she’s got a shit ton of valuable info here, so why don’t you ease up on her?” 

steve purses his lips, turning his gaze on you, and suddenly it feels like a spotlight is burning through your skin. “and how in the hell does pablo escobar’s maid know all this?” 

“walls are thin. i hear them downstairs while i clean the upstairs, sound travels up the pipes in the bathrooms, it’s not impossible to listen in.” your explanations fall on uncaring ears, he’s already shaking his head. 

“i don’t believe her. too convenient, and i doubt his men are that stupid to talk that loudly about their plans in front of the help,” he tilts his head at you, emphasizing when he says the help, and now it’s your turn to stand. 

“fuck you,” you spit, surprising yourself when the words come out. javier moves in between you two when steve stalks towards you with a hard glare and a mouth fired and ready to remind you of your place. 

“hey,” javier calls his attention back, steve’s eyes begrudgingly leaves your’s before he turns them back to his partner. 

“if you trust me, you trust her.” he reminds and steve sighs longly, carding a hand through his hair. “also,” javier eyes over steve’s disheveled figure before looking back at him. “why’re you here?” 

he drops down onto the chair beside the couch, legs spread, head rolled back against the cushion, his hand rubbing over his forehead. “connie. she wants an official separation.” your eyes widen in fake shock, shaking your head and looking away while he talks. “makes sense,” you mutter under your breath, somewhat satiating the hatefulness you want to spew at him. 

“i’m sorry,” javier sighs, juxtaposing your unsympathetic reaction with a concerned one, coming over to press a hand to his shoulder. “we can talk about the routes tomorrow, we still have time. did you wanna…talk about it?” steve shakes his head, and you want to roll your eyes, praying javier sends him back home soon. 

“no, it’s alright jav, just came by to see if you wanted to grab a drink but,” he’s looking at you again. “i see you’re busy.” javier smooths over his mustache, sighing quietly when he glances at you. 

he wouldn’t mind going out with steve to some bar for a few hours, he can see the visible pain on his friend’s face, but your life is higher on his list of priorities, and he can’t get himself to leave you alone. 

“i’m sorry murphy,” javier starts but steve shakes his head, holding a hand up to pause his apologies. “nah don’t be, i’ll get uh, outta your hair.” he gets up to leave and you feel like leaping into the air at your sweet success. 

but javier cuts your joy short, immediately ejecting you from off of cloud nine when he stops steve from leaving. 

he swipes the dust off his watch, checking the time before he looks over to steve. “look, it’s getting kinda late, why don’t you crash on my couch tonight? you can help yourself to the fridge, but i’m sure you’d raid it with or without my permission.” javi’s lip curls in tune with his joke and steve chuckles, easing away from his stress for the moment. 

“yeah,” steve exhales, rubbing his knuckles under his eyebags. “alright,” he agrees. 

javier nods, rustling steve’s shoulders with a grin. “i’ll grab you somethin’ you can sleep in, and y’know where the bathrooms at for when you wanna change.” 

“thanks jav,” he calls out after him when he walks away, and you expel a breath of quiet annoyance, plopping down into the seat in front of steve. 

he eyes you up and down, and you pull your legs together, resting your elbows on your knees, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. 

you hate him, you’ve never been more sure. 

__ 

there’s multiple reasons why steve isn’t particularly fond of you. most reasons are arguably just his own projections. none of them are all that valid or have anything to do with the things you actually are responsible for. 

for one, he doesn’t trust you. but someone else seems to. and to be fair, javi is a smart man who trusts those deserving of it, no disputing that. 

however. 

women are his weak spot, and if he were to get taken advantage of, it’d probably be by one. and he can’t shake the feeling that you’re doing just that. 

maybe the information you give them is real, but then you could also be going off and warning escobar and his sicarios as soon as you get back to them, forever sending him and javier down an endless wild goose chase. 

but then again, you do seem to be honest and genuine — at least your fear is when you stress how they cannot find out that you’re the rat amongst them. 

that seems real. 

and steve knows he shouldn't let that be why he treats you as rudely as he does. he additionally acknowledges the fact that you always smelling so annoyingly good that he can smell you before you even enter the room, is also not a valid reason to dislike you. 

except, this? 

this is a new, more realistic reason to not like you, he thinks. 

you’re fucking loud. 

he can hear your goddamn moaning through the thin wall separating javier’s bedroom and the couch he’s currently laying on. he’s starting to think there’s a chance you weren’t lying about hearing escobar’s plans through the walls while you cleaned. 

he tosses and turns on the couch, trying to use the pillow javier gave him to muffle the sounds but god, it’s like you’re determined to make steve hear you. 

all he can hear is your moans, your whiny mewls for javi, jaaavi, and he can hear his godforsaken partner, who he might request to be changed after this, groan your name, telling you how good you are, how perfect you are, calling you his hermosa — and it’s driving him crazy. in his descent into a sleepless delirium he begins to genuinely wish his hearing would go out, just for the night. 

__

“what do you want?” javier breathed above you, your thighs on either side of his leg. his knee pushing right up against you there, teasing your clit. 

you swallowed hard through heavy breaths, hands coming up to run down his jaw, your fingers brushing along his stubble. “i just wanna forget about what’s going on,” you responded, a sense of pleading under your breath while you spoke. 

he kissed you, trickling his lips down your neck and chest. “puedo distraerte,” he murmured, his hands pulling your sweater over your tummy, replacing the wool with his lips. 

his mouth was hot, and eager to latch over your clothed cunt, his tongue swirling around your clit, pulling a drawn out cry from amidst your bitten lips. 

it’s been 30 minutes? an hour? an eternity? and you two are still at it from when that all started, and steve thinks he’ll die, in fact, he hopes he does. he’s lost connie, his kid, and now his sanity from hearing his partner fuck his 100th ‘informant’ just a wall away from him. 

“oh my god!” you squeal, and nope, that’s it, he can’t do this. 

he rips the blanket off his body, his sock covered feet landing on the carpet, carrying his haggard, exhausted, irritated, body to the bedroom. 

he pushes open the door, cringing when you yell, avoiding looking at you while you grab the sheets to cover yourself. “steve what the fuck?” you shout, and javier huffs, lifting the sheets from off his head, moving away from the place between your thighs. 

“do you fucking need something?” javier grits, and steve folds his arms over his chest, clenching his jaw when he sees your bodies shine with a sheen coat of sweat from the moonlight peeking in. he clears his throat, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with javier. 

“i need you guys to shut the fuck up, that’s what i need. ‘been hearin’ you two all night, i can’t sleep.” he sneers, and javier scoffs, his eyes landing on the bulge steve is sporting behind the borrowed pair of sweats, feeling smug in place of embarrassment. 

“yeah, i’m sure that’s why you can’t sleep.” he tilts his head downward toward his crotch, and steve grows hot, standing up straight when he grinds down on his bottom teeth. 

javier sighs to himself, eyes glancing over steve, then panning to you beside him before he speaks again. “i don’t usually share but, i can make an exception tonight. only ‘cause you’ve got shit goin’ on.” javier shrugs, and both you and steve gape at him 

“what?” you smack javier’s arm, feeling your face get hot at the mere idea of such a suggestion. 

“stop playing around and just kick him out,” you whisper yell, but steve’s way ahead of you, already turning on his heel, wondering if he’ll be able to hail a cab this late at night. 

“m’not kidding. steve, i’m serious,” he calls out, halting steve mid step. he turns back around slowly, facing you both now. 

javier leans down, resting his chin on your neck, holding your arms in his hands. “steve’s handsome baby, don’t you think?” he whispers, his fingers trailing up and down your arms. your breath picks up when you really look over at steve. 

he’s good looking, in fact, that was the first thought you had when you met him, but it all quickly went away when he began being rude to you. 

and despite that, you find yourself giving in, nodding meekly. steve’s chest gets tight when you agree, his cock betraying him and twitching behind his shallow confinements. “steve, she’s pretty isn’t she?” he says temptingly, his voice a deep, rich siren song that pulls both you and steve right into his grasp. 

steve’s jaw wants to lock on itself before he can say something he can’t take back, but it's too late, his logic and reason is slowly depleting from him just like the air in his lungs the more his eyes flicker between you and javier. 

“yeah,” he croaks, and a ghost of a smile graces over your lips when he admits to your attractiveness. “you wanna show him how pretty you are quierda?” he whispers in your ear, and you nod a hypnotized yes, allowing him to hook his fingers under the sheets, slowly pulling it down to reveal your bare chest. 

steve gets weak, his cock throbbing painfully in his boxers, he’s sure you can see it now, but he’d rather you feel it instead. 

he wants to let his hand drift down to his cock, to ease the strain he feels but no, he won’t give in, he won’t seem weak, not in front of you, and definitely not in front of javier. he’d never hear the end of it. 

he closes the door behind him and your heart picks up, clenching the bedspread beneath you when he starts to move in towards you both, eyes pointed at you like a hawk. 

he forces your gaze on him, his finger under your chin, craning your neck upwards. his eyes bounce into yours and you feel small under his hold and stare, struggling to maintain the downward look he’s shooting your way. it lays over you heavily. 

he pushes his thumb between your lips, watching you suck on it, teeth grazing the tip, a semblance of a smirk curling at the corners of your mouth when you stare back up at him. 

steve already feels debilitated and he hasn’t even touched you yet. he doesn’t like that. he refuses to let you have this much control over him. 

he’s going to make sure you stay in your place. 

“alright.” he breathes out, pulling his thumb from you, turning to look at javier. “she listen well?” and you roll your eyes, scoffing quietly when you lean back into your preferred agent of the two. 

“‘course she does,” he says proudly, rubbing your arm affectionately, sending a fluttery feeling to your lower stomach at the praise. 

“think you can listen to me?” he murmurs to you when he leans down to your level, knees dipping into the mattress. you test the waters, eyeing him while he inches in closer, slowly erasing the space between you two breath by breath. 

“what if i don’t feel like it?” you ask, words quiet amidst the air betwixt both your parted mouths. he chuckles something dark under his breath, eyes flickering from your lips back to your eyes. “if you wanna cum tonight i think you’ll listen to me.” 

your breathing pauses in your throat at his statement, and you have no witty response to shoot back. you’re quiet. 

finally, steve thinks, lightly snickering when you respond with nothing. 

javier shifts around, sitting upwards and leaning into steve’s ear. “she likes it when you touch her like this, f’you wanna give her a reason to listen, do this.” he whispers, before moving back down to where you rest in his bed. 

steve watches as javier moves the sheets, exposing your bare lower half. steve exhales sharply when his eyes focus on you, scanning the sight laid out for him. 

you feel shy, your body being feasted on hungrily by the wandering eyes of two men who want nothing more than to devour you. 

javier’s hand makes its way to your thigh, running the palm up and down slowly. “part your legs for me, quierda,” he says softly, and you do as he says, spreading yourself for both of them to see. 

his fingers trace over your clit, running circles over it, keeping the pressure tight, focused, right where you need it to be. your breath picks up, your hand tightens around his wrist, your eyes falling shut at his touch. 

steve stares at the way javier unravels you, taking his time to make you feel good. he knows what he’s doing, and he’s impressed by what he sees. 

he wonders if you’d react the same way if it were his fingers. he wants to find out. 

steve gets closer, he brings his middle finger to your lips, and you take him in with no need for verbal instructions, your tongue swirling around the digit while you push your hips onto javier’s fingers. 

he slips it from out your lips, bringing it down to your cunt. 

he breaches your entrance, dipping into you, and you gasp, eyes opening wide when you feel his finger, long, and thick, traveling into you, joining javier in the ministrations on your cunt. 

you feel spoiled, with javier kissing your neck, whispering about how wet you are, and steve, his face just a single pull of air away from your’s while he curls his finger right where you crave to be touched. 

his lips just barely brush your skin, occasionally gracing over your parted mouth when your head turns side to side from the steadily increasing pleasure that burns your skin. 

you feel too proud to ask for a kiss, instead you try leaning into him, but he moves back just a little when you do. if you want something, you ask for it. 

“steve,” you whisper breathlessly, chest heaving, pebbled nipples poking him through his white t shirt. “what?” he asks, and javier peers over at you two, feeling his cock twitch when he glances down, sight joining the sound of your soaked cunt taking their fingers. 

you swallow away your pride piece by piece, it’s a painful feat but the rising need inside you is starting to override it. 

“kiss me? please?” you hushedly plead with him, praying he obliges. javier sponges kisses across your shoulder while steve eyes you for a moment, visually tracing the curve of your lips, feeling a pair of hands restrain him away from taking your lips into his own. he wants to, but fuck, connie. 

“gonna keep her waiting?” rings through his ears  from javier, and he breaks from his trance, realizing that he’s already in too deep, connie’s gone, and kissing you won’t change that. 

he lurches forward, kissing you hard, almost angrily. you nearly topple backward, but javier’s right there, he’s got you. 

you whimper into his mouth, struggling to keep up with the way he moves against you. your hand strokes the strong arm belonging to javier, the other coming up to cup steve’s jaw. 

his hand, big and strong, comes to your throat, keeping you in your place when he kisses you.  

his teeth ghosts a bite on your bottom lip, his tongue running across it to smooth the tinge of pain away before it travels into your mouth, tasting the hint of something sweet on your tongue. 

he groans in your mouth, the sound pulling a shiver from the depths of your spine. “make him feel good, quierda,” javier whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his mustache tickling your sensitive skin. 

you nod mindlessly, silencing the whine that begs to come out when they shift away from you, withdrawing their hands from between your thighs. 

you lean forward towards steve, fingers hooking under his sweatpants nervously while javier moves behind you, his warm hands panning over the curve of your ass, one of his favorite sights. 

steve stares you down while you tug down the sweats along with the plaid boxers that rest on his hips, his lips curling up at the way your mouth falls when his cock springs up, hard, his flushed pink tip glistening with precum. 

he’s just slightly longer than javier, cock not having as much girth as him but in no way, shape, or form, are either men small. 

this is going to be quite the exploit. 

“gonna stare at it or are you gonna suck it?” he half scoffs, hand traveling behind your neck, and you glare up at him from under your eyelashes, lowering yourself down to him. “just remembered why i don’t like you,” you grumble, your complaining cut short when you feel javier’s tongue back on your clit. 

you whine, pushing back on his face when you sink your mouth down onto steve’s cock. 

he hisses upon immediate contact, your mouth is hot, wet, perfect. 

your moans vibrate around his cock from the way javier’s tasting you, his fingers pushing deep into your fluttering hole. he palms himself, running his thumb over his leaking tip when he peers over and watches the way you take his partner’s dick into your mouth. 

you bob your head, rising up only to sink downward, eyes squeezing shut, trying your best to take as much of him in your mouth as you can but his length is not making it easy on you. 

your tongue runs along the base of him, coming around to swirl over his tip when your lips encase it. he groans, head falling forward, eyes lowering beneath the bush of his brows at you. 

javier can’t take it anymore, your little whimpers eliciting from the flick of his tongue, the way your hole squeezes around nothing, just begging to be filled, and the slick sound coming from your mouth when you suck over steve’s tip is too much, he needs you. 

he rests back on his knees, aligning himself with your entrance before he pushes in, feeling a heavy sense of pride settle into his chest when you let out a drawn out moan of his name. 

you slide your lips off of steve’s cock, replacing it with your hand when you turn over your shoulder to watch him put it in. “javi,” you croon through a tearful moan, eyebrows strung in an earnest curl. 

he runs his thumb across your bottom lip when he’s fully inside you, a look of adoration screwed with pleasure casting over his face. 

but steve’s hand is guiding your attention back to him, javi has enough of it anyways, and he’s pulling your jaw back onto him. 

it’s hard to focus on trying to keep your pace and rhythm on steve’s cock when javier’s fucking you with everything he’s got, his cock nudging deep inside you, filling you out so good it makes your eyes roll back. 

steve almost feels a little jealous, feeling like he deserves the same amount of acknowledgement you give javier. he holds you by the back of your head, making you give him more attention. 

you gag, sliding off his cock, resting on your palms, jerking forward into his hips from javier’s thrusts, struggling to catch your breath. “uh uh,” he shakes his head, pushing you back down. “not gonna let you stop ‘til you suck it right sweetheart,” he mutters, and your face gets hot, ashamed at how his orders make you clamp down around javier’s cock. 

javier groans at the way you’re gripping him, and he leans forward, pushing in even deeper, feeling pride fill him once more when you whine around steve’s cock. 

“don’t be too rough with her,” he grunts, semi opposing his own words, rolling his hips in unbearably deeper, abusing the sensitive spongy spot inside you with the fat head of his cock. 

steve dryly laughs, tilting his head at his partner before glancing down at you working him down your throat, eager to please him, eager to finally earn some praise from him. 

“looks like can handle it. in fact, i think she likes it,” steve proves his point, pushing his hips in deeper, and you gag, but you tighten around javier at the force of action and he exhales humorously, pursing his lips. 

he bends down, kissing your shoulder blade. “quierda, quierda, taking us both so well,” his voice careens around you like the drag of his palm over your skin. 

“s’right, take it,” steve murmurs, his hand just behind your jaw, thumb running across the tears that stream down your cheek. 

your eyes shutter closed, body content with being filled front to back so wholly, the men who occupy you grunting with primal approval. 

javier’s fingers inch over your clit, rubbing the little soaked button as a reward, and you cry around steve’s cock, hands gripping tighter onto the sheets at the stimulation. the way his cock prods into you, paired with the swirl of the pads of his fingers over your clit feels earth shattering. 

steve’s eyes drift over to javier, his broad shoulders adorned in scratches from presumably you, the downward pull of your nails across his skin was probably created moments before he came into the bedroom. his cock twitches inside your mouth at the thought.

javier’s eyebrows are pulled together, eyes narrowed down at your body, hips pulling back only to ram back into you at full force with a certain precision that has you crying around steve’s cock. 

he’s fucking you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do and steve can’t help but watch. 

his thrusts pick up speed inside your mouth, the itch you’re satiating just grows and grows and he can’t stop chasing the relief you provide him. 

javier’s gaze that follows the way you bounce from each thrust he pounds into you shifts into an upward stare back to steve’s intent eyes, and he exhales heavily, jaw clenching tightly. 

the men watch each other, the sound of your moans and gagging mixed with their low and thick grunts and groans is something that will float back into your minds when you all separate, forever haunting you in the wake of silent moments. 

steve finds his eyes landing over javier’s lips, watching the way his tongue darts out and drags across his bottom lip and he swallows back the thick groan that wants to leave. 

he falls forward, his cock pushing in deeper between your lips, his head resting on javier’s shoulder while he grinds into your mouth. 

he inches his hips back, keeping his cock down your throat but still allowing you some leeway to pull off for air while he finds refuge on the broad expanse of javier’s shoulder. 

their shared groans of your name fall into each other’s mouths and you whimper, pushing your ass onto javier, mouth sucking around steve fervently, desperate to please both men. 

steve’s mouth drops open when you suction your lips around the head of his cock, teasing him with the fat stripe of your tongue and he shivers, his teeth baring down against javier’s flesh. 

he winces at the pain, but he likes it, he accepts it, welcomes it. 

“she feel good?” steve drones in a low groan, and javier holds your hips, pulling you all the way down on his cock, making eye contact with steve when your sobs rack around his cock, watching the way his eyes screw shut. “feels amazing, squeezin’ me so good,” he grunts, his hand coming down to lay a hard smack over the fat of your ass. 

you yelp at the rough affection, the little squeaking sound coming out muffled from the activity currently preoccupying your mouth, prompting a cocky breathless chuckle from steve when he leans back, eyes falling over your pretty face. 

“if i knew she could put this mouth to use other than runnin’ it i would’ve had her on her knees sooner,” he relents airlessly, heavy pants leaving past his lips. javier laughs hazily, leaning in, his cock shoving itself deeper inside you while his hips mold over your’s like broken pieces reconnecting.  

his hand wraps around your throat, lips sponged gently to your ear. “i think steve just paid you a compliment, hermosa,” 

you look up at steve, doe eyed with long wet lashes, blinking appreciatively, feeling warm all over when he taps your cheek with his palm, not hard, but not gentle either. you take whatever you can from him. 

steve rolls his head back up to javier, twirling his finger to the side, motioning for the pair to switch. he wants a turn inside you. 

“why don’t you ask me nicely?” he says through a soft gruff breath, leaning in closer to his face, his hips clasping tightly over yours, his cock burying itself so far in your cunt it burrows in your tummy. 

you whine around steve’s cock, his hand coming to the back of your head to pacify you while he scoffs at javier. 

“‘scuse me?” 

“i said, why don’t you ask me. nicely?” javier repeats, his head tilting to the side. 

asshole. 

steve’s jaw hinges forward with irritation, his eyes falling down to where your ass and javier’s hips meet, his chest settling into a deep pit of desire, slowly plucking away his inhibitions of trying to seem like he’s in control. 

“please,” his voice shakes a little, the desperate plea beneath his hushed words. 

javier’s brow flicks up, lips pursing with satisfaction and he pauses inside you, prompting your swollen lips to roll from off steve’s cock, turning into a disappointed pout when you look at him from behind your shoulder. 

“what’s wrong?” you rasp, and steve takes in his bottom lip, his top lip perking in smugness at your voice. 

“are you okay with us…switching?” javier asks, running his hand along your hip softly. the nerves in your tummy tighten like the strings on a corset, sucking you in and stealing your breath at the thought of him fucking you. 

you turn back to look at steve, before you’re swallowing away your pride, nodding in agreement. 

a grin spreads across his face, and he pats your cheek, whistling when he twists his finger in the air once more. “get over here an’ turn around for me,” 

your eyes start to roll at his orders, the action cut short when the loss from javier makes you wince. “yessir officer sir,” you joke dryly through a breath, a part of you not wanting to let on how excited you really were for this. 

steve’s cock twitches at your joking, unaware of how much he really liked that. 

javier lays further into the bed, arm behind his head while he watches you crawl towards him. an excited glint shines for a passing second in his eyes when he watches the way steve stares down your every movement, eyes following each and every little sway your ass makes before him. 

your hands rest on javier’s thighs before they’re slipping off him, panickedly grasping for the mattress when steve’s pushing you into the bed, shoving your face beside javier’s knee and hoisting your ass up for him. 

he breathes out a heavy, content sigh when his palms encase your ass, your glistening cunt just weeping for him. 

it’s steve’s turn to be greeted by your face craned behind your shoulder, cute little features contorted in a curious pleasure, eyebrows pulled together, bitten lips pouted while he cocks his head at you. 

he grabs your wrists, letting your cheek shift and fall to javier’s thigh. 

javier graces his hand behind your neck soothingly, silently making up for his partner’s rough actions. 

steve’s cock grazes against your cunt and you shiver, feeling him press up onto you, his hips flush to your ass while he wrangles your wrists together. “hands behind your back, hermosa.” his mustache tickles at your ear, your lips trembling against the hot skin of javier’s thigh. he taunts you with the pet name, reminding you he’s heard your pathetic mewls and moans you so graciously gave to javi. 

it was his turn to earn some of that graciousness. 

“s’bout time you show me some goddamn respect,” he mutters in your ear, flicking his head up towards javier who’s watching intently, his cock aching at the sight. 

“you got your cuffs?” he asks and your back stiffens. 

uh oh. 

javier’s lips curl evilly and he chuckles below a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “yeah. need ‘em?” he responds knowingly and you crane your neck up at him, eyes peering at him pitifully. 

javier purses his lips at you with faux sympathy, running his thumb across your lips before he’s looking back at steve for confirmation. 

steve nods and javier doesn’t argue. 

he opens the first drawer on the nightstand beside his bed, his hand returning with a pair of silver handcuffs. 

he tosses them to steve and he catches it dutifully, unlatching them before he puts them around your wrists, seconds away from locking the cold metallic constraints tight and in place. 

you’re turning back to look at steve, imploring with him desperately to not use the cuffs on you. “no no please, sir i don’t want the cuffs,” you whimper against the flesh of javier’s thigh, your sounds traveling straight to his cock. 

steve didn’t even have to tell you to keep calling him sir, you barely even realize what you’re saying at this point, it all just feels like babble coming mindlessly from out your bitten lips. 

steve’s throat gets tight at your pleas, the title of respect you’ve given him without even realizing what you’ve said makes his cock throb against your soaked cunt, itching to just push inside you. 

“too bad. you can earn your way outta them.” he offers, running his hand across the curve of your ass before he speaks again. 

“you’re gonna be fuckin’ good for me like you were for him, you hear me?” he orders, the air in his words thick with authority. you nod feebly and he smacks your ass, the sheer force from his hand pushing you further onto javier’s lap. you cry out, the pain vibrating through your flesh. 

before you have time to speak or think or breathe, he shoves himself inside you, no resistance from your needy, drenched hole. he groans when he forces himself in all the way, your cries from his cock floats around in the thick air like music to his ears. 

you lower your mouth down onto javier’s cock, trying to busy your mind away from the intense feeling of being rocked forward endlessly by the fluid motions of steve shoving his cock into you. 

he’s fucking the length of his cock in your little hole, molding your cunt to the extent of it. his cockhead kisses your cervix with each rough thrust he impales you with. 

javier’s head rolls back when your tongue curls around his shaft the way he likes, the tip of it running along a vein of his, his breathing starting to falter all over again. 

it’s harder sucking javier like this, you can’t rely on your hands to please what you can’t reach, your drool dribbles down the base of his cock, the place where your hands would normally be, but javier doesn’t mind, he could almost kiss steve for giving him the gift of watching you struggle and gag around his cock like this, drooling like a fucked out slut. 

steve’s lost in his own physical realm of pleasure where nothing exists except for his cock burrowed in the wet tunnel of your cunt, his cock head ramming into your sweet cervix uncaringly, cruelly. 

he relishes with his head fallen forward at the way your sobs come out muffledly from the sound of his partner’s cock down your throat, because of him. it’s because of his cock you’re crying out like this. 

his blonde hair falls limp with sweat in his eyes, but he doesn’t mind it, his lids fall heavy with blinding pleasure, his hand pressing you down by your lower back, forcing you to arch further on his cock. 

the two men find endless pleasure with you, you’re the gift that keeps on giving, and they will happily keep on taking. 

javier’s head rolls towards you, chin resting low while he stares down your bobbing head that struggles to fully lower down onto him. 

but it’s just so cute the way you struggle, he loves watching you try to be so good for him and take him as far as you can into your mouth. 

you’re definitely his sweetest informant to date. 

“fuck,” he breathes out, the crown of his head falling back to his headboard, your suctioning lips sucking the head of his cock too well, that it makes him feel lightheaded. 

his hands, on the edge of callousing, come over the curve of your ass, gripping the fat of it, pulling you apart to sneakily look at your little hole, feeling his cock throb inside you when he imagines the other things he’d like to do to you. 

the things connie would never allow, which is okay, he respected that. 

but you? 

he’s sure you’d do just about anything he or javier asked of you. and he’s willing to bet with enough sweet words from javier and sternness from himself, they could get you right where he wanted you. 

he tilts his head, rolling his hips into you deep and hard, enjoying every little jolt forward you make onto javier’s cock while he thumbs over your hole, wondering if maybe you’d let him have you that way next time. 

fuck. 

will there be a next time? 

he really, really hopes so. 

you shiver when you feel his thumb swipe over that part of yourself, mouth sliding off javier’s cock to catch your breath and shut your eyes at the feeling. 

javier’s cupping your face, a sharp exhale from his nose replacing whatever jumble he was about to say when your tongue flicks over his tip, enveloping him down your throat once more. 

steve’s leaning over your body, his cock traveling in too far inside you, naturally pulling a drawn out cry from around javier’s cock. javier pants, head falling back at the vibrations between his thighs. 

“fuckin’ tight,” steve groans, his forehead resting on your shoulder, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to peer up at javier. 

his brown hair has fallen damp just under his eyebrows, tickling his lashes, his mouth is drawn open, wispy murmurs of your name pouring out like a chant amidst a ritual, holy and sacred. 

“for a whore,” steve adds, and javier chuckles through a breathy moan, the way you clamp down around his cock at his comments is not lost on him. his fingers find your clit, and you tense, your back immediately falling into a deeper arch, desperate to feel more of him. 

you come up for air, needing a break from the soreness trickling along your jaw, your gaze now ascending towards javier, looking up at him with big watery eyes. you instinctively leaning into his warm palm that comes to cradle your face while your stare lingers over him.. “i’m so close,” you whimper and just like that, steve’s fingers withdraw from your clit and instead go back into digging into the plump flesh around your hips. 

javier looks up at steve, joining you in your confused stare. “steve please,” you plead, struggling to look at him through the rough jolts from his hard thrusts. “c’mon,” javier’s honeyed tone calls his attention and steve looks over at him, tilting his head. “i don’t think she’s earned it,” he looks back down at you, brings his lips to your ear and grows smug when you cry out from the way his cock intrudes into you even deeper. “if you wanna cum you better work for it. girl.” 

javier’s cock twitches in your grasp at the way steve talks to you, and you’re just about pulsing around him, eager to prove you deserve to cum, you’re hungry for it. 

your mouth is back on javier, watching the way his eyes screw shut and his brows furrow once more when your tongue drags all around him, trying to also greedily take in as much of steve as you can, pushing onto him, wanting nothing more than to be fully enveloped by him. 

his fingers tease your clit, gracing you with fleeting touches that make your skin prickle over into a fiery heat only for it to be immediately extinguished when he pulls them away. you’re trying your hardest to continue to make javier feel good, and your efforts are definitely not for nothing. his breathing grows more staggered, his thrusts into your mouth lose their pattern, he’s holding you by the back of your neck, forcing himself to lean forward and watch you take his cock down your throat. 

“fuck, fuck, take it, take it yeah, shit,” he pants, fucking your jaw through his orgasm, his hips hitting your chin with every rough piston he makes. you’re squeezing your teary eyes shut, trying to take both him and steve abusing your holes the best way you can. 

he slides his cock out from your lips, gently wiping away your sweaty forehead while you fight to catch your breath. each gasp of air is pulled away from you by the rough impaling by steve’s cock that hits you deep over and over. 

“did so good for me querida,” he whispers to you softly, juxtaposing the way you’re getting fucked by his partner. you just whimper at his praises, wriggling your hands around in your cuffs. javier doesn’t ask steve before he acts, he just grabs the keys and unlocks you, feeling slight guilt when you wince and sigh in relief when you’re finally free from your constraints. 

steve glares at javier and he ignores it, rubbing your wrists soothingly while steve slows his thrusts. 

you almost panic, worried he won’t let you cum at all now, you bring wrists behind your back once more for him, and the purest and most intense form of pride blooms in the depths of his chest at your little actions. he grips your wrists together in one hand, making eye contact with javier while he speeds up his thrusts inside your soaked cunt. 

javier’s spent cock throbs and he swallows hard, his chest rising and falling heavily. “sweet isn’t she?” javier utters, watching the way steve’s hips pull and push into your’s. with a side perk of his lips he shrugs, running his free hand over the curve of your ass. “yeah. when she feels like it.” 

javier chuckles, bringing his fingers to your clit, keeping the pads of his digits still. you look at him, wordlessly pleading with him to override steve’s rules and let you cum. “you make him feel good quierda, an’ i’ll make sure you get what you want.” and with a kiss to your forehead, that’s all you’re left with. 

he drinks in your moans, his lips falling to yours, keeping your face tucked into his palms while steve chases his orgasm inside you. he’s lost in you, you’re all encompassing, the way you’re gripping onto him, your cries for him getting drowned out in javier’s mouth – fuck, you’re too much. 

you break apart from javier’s lips, unable to keep going like this without cumming. after all, you were never the patient type to begin with. “please steve, feel’s so good, i need to cum, please let me, promise m’gonna be so good,” you’re near tears, ready to beg and plead with steve for however long it takes. javier looks at him along with you, his cheek resting on your forehead. “let her,” javier orders instead of suggesting, and steve doesn’t have it in him to argue or deny you any longer. 

his fingers inch over your clit, rubbing the sticky little button in the way you need, and you sob in relief, your cheek falling onto the mattress, letting your body be overtaken by the older man, your fingers intertwining with his while he pounds your orgasm into you. “thank you thank you thank you,” you cry through a series of shaky drawn out moans. you gush around him, panting loudly, losing all the air in the room while you cum. your body feels like it’s going to explode and honestly, it just might. 

steve assaults every single sensitive spot inside your body, his fingers on your clit staying put, your legs in return turning into jello, trembling hard with erratic shakes. 

“bet y’don’t think i’m that bad now huh?” he whispers in your ear, and you shake your head dumbly, resting your head on javier’s lap while steve continues to fuck you through your orgasm. 

he’s getting sloppy, he’s close, he can feel it. “i wanna cum in you, jus’ like this, gonna let me? as a lil’ thanks baby?” he grunts and javier runs his finger across your cheek, lowering his voice towards you. “gonna let him querida?” 

your words barely find you, all you can feel is steve’s cock buried deep in your tummy, words don’t even seem real in this moment. “cum in me,” you manage to murmur, your sore clit tingling at the thought of his cum pouring out of you. 

steve didn’t need to hear anything else, your meek words of permission played on a loop inside his head while he holds on tighter onto your hips, pulling you down on his cock, his hot cum spurting deep inside you. he groans, his head falling back, mindless utterances of how good your fuckin’ pussy feels, dissipates into the thick air. 

he pushes in a few more thrusts until his cock softens, and he tucks himself away into his boxers. he eyes your spent, sweat coated body before he lays down beside you. javier pulls the sheets over your bodies, letting you bury your face into his chest. steve gets stiff, is he overstaying his welcome?

you seem to read his mind, because you’re pulling his arm around your side, keeping him close to you. he smiles to himself, and clasps his front around your back, glancing up at a pleased looking javier. 

javier winks at steve before his attention returns back to you. “you okay querida? feel alright?” he asks gently, and you nod sleepily in his arms, yawning tiredly. “mhm, just really sleepy,” you mumble, and javier shushes you, kissing your hairline. “s’okay, you can rest now.” 

steve kisses your shoulder, surprising himself by the gentleness in his actions. he’s too tired to analyze anything right now, he just lets himself rest beside you. “night murphy.” javier hums and steve chuckles breathlessly. “yeah, night javi.” 

[muaka-safari]

May I ask, did you get around to writing that essay about ga-matoran in Metru Nui and their connection to the Great Temple? Not expecting anything! Just curious!

Oh, I think I wrote a bullet-pointed list on ga-matoran and their connection to the Great Temple, specifically looking at how it affects their concept of gender here, but I never wrote anything long-hand.

If a quick rundown is what you're looking for, follow that link. If you do enjoy long(ish), rambling essays from someone making far too extensive headcanons for fictional worlds, read on.

So. Ga-Metru. The metru of the ga, the metru specifically for the ga, that metru. Now, I could launch straight into the impact of Ga-Metru being Mata Nui-favoured... but this is my essay, so I'm gonna roll this a bit further back and delve into a possible reason of why Ga-Metru is favoured.

Because I have a personal headcanon that Ga-Metru's favoured status was very much a byproduct of the natural resources.

Look at it this way: You need to build a protodermis purification facility on Metru Nui. You've already built the forges and furnaces; now you need to be able to source the building material for these smithies. So you need somewhere with a lot of liquid protodermis readily at hand - somewhere, for example, like Ga-Metru.

And then, because you probably shouldn't put all your important masks in a place full of burny, melty fire, you store your kanohi mask here (instead of Ta-Metru) as the other major building in this budding metru.

So, ta-da, you now have your second major site in Metru Nui, and over time that becomes Ga-Metru, home to the Ga-Matoran. Second-eldest metru, not out of any holy significance, but because it provided an important resource.

Time passes, and your purification/storage facility becomes a place of spiritual importance. I mean, it makes sense. It's an old, vital building, storing items of power, and isn't the hot, noisy space of Ta-Metru, plus the act of purifying carries a kind of holiness to it.

So, the next logical train of thought: if Ga-Metru is home to the temple of your god, then - obviously - god must like this metru best.

Next, next logical train of thought: if Ga-Metru is the favoured metru, then those who live there must be Mata Nui's favoured matorans. Or, at least, they are spiritually closer to Mata Nui, living basically on the doorstep of your connection to him.

By this point, matoran have certainly been granted sentience, and with that comes all the messy irrationality of thinking for yourself. What a lot of religions like to do is recognise those singled out, spiritually, with a title. Father. Reverend. Back in the medieval era, catholic priests were called "Sir" the same way a knight was.

Regardless, the point is: you need a name or a title to recognise that Ga-Matoran are different. And (headcanon going strong here) because Matoran weren't programmed with a sense of gender, they only really have "he/him" for daily use, with "brother" as a title of respect.

So language does what it always does in these circumstances - it adapts. Except, well, the Matoran may not have a concept of gender, but the Great Beings who created them did. So, somewhere in that pesky programming and superfluous data, there's a not-memory of "sister" being an equivalent title to "brother" - they don't understand how it relates to gender, they just know it feels right. And with "sister" comes the pronouns "she/her" so suddenly you have a whole metru with their own special pronouns and titles.

And, ta-da! Matorans have now accidentally ungendered gendered pronouns.

I also think it adds an interesting sense of irony for any (head)canons that Ga-Matorans consider themselves above or better than other Matorans (because then their importance is built on a coincidence, rather than actual Mata Nui favour) but that's for another day - or for other people to take a crack at, if they'd like. (I know I've certainly seen some interesting posts about Ga-Matoran self-importance!)

I personally was just fascinated by the fact that the "female" Matoran are the "holy" Matoran, despite gender being nonexistant, and examining one possible reason for Ga-Metru gaining its favoured reputation. (What can I say? I love clawing my way into the cracks of existing world-building.) Feel free to agree, disagree, whatever, but these are my personal headcanons and I hope people enjoyed reading about them!

[fictarian]

yo yo yoooo ayo gang lemme get amm a hobie brown x gn reader whos like a photographer for the fucking news bullshit and like they are a fan of spider man fam thank uuu

𝐇𝐢𝐦 <𝟑 . ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐏𝐭. 𝟓

ღ You ask and I DELIVER‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️

ღ Thank you guys for 60+ followers, it makes me happy you guys like my shit despite only doing this for 3-5 days 😭

ღ ANYWAYS, here’s a story for my boy @thearabloak06 🙏 Tysm for requesting, I hope you enjoy and I hope this story isn’t ass since it’s my first time in awhile writing a full on fic LMFAO

ღ Paring: Hobie Brown and GN! Reader

ღ Premise: Reader has their own section of the daily newspaper, and they use it to write for the anarchist by the name of ‘Spider-Punk’ while also providing pictures they’ve caught of him in action

ღ Whoopsie daisy I just made this into more of a detective/mystery novel instead of a romance 💀 200-400 likes and i’ll make a part 2 (or even its own series)

ღ Previous part can be found here !

“_____, my office, now!” You let out a heavy sigh as the door to your boss’ office slammed shut after he barked an order, and you could feel the eyes following you as you stood up from your desk and made your way over to the room, tossing your empty coffee cup into the trash before turning the knob and pushing the door open.

“Have a seat” He ordered, but your feet remained glued to the ground. “I’m good standing” You stiffly said, crossing your arms over your chest with narrowed eyes. “You asked for me, sir?” In response, your boss slammed a newspaper onto his desk, pushing it forward so you could get a good look at it— it was the paper for today, and you had a pretty reasonable guess as to why he was so peeved.

“We’ve been over this, _____. I don’t want that spider freak in my newspaper.” He seethed, picking up the newspaper and shoving it in your face, pointing specifically at the section you were assigned to. “You know what this gives us? A bad, bad reputation. We’re already on thin ice as it is, and if you keep this up, my company will get shut down all thanks to your stories!”

Your lips tightened into a thin line, feeling your blood boil at what he was saying. Quite frankly, he could take his worries and shove it up his ass for all you cared. The government was corrupt and violent to the people it’s supposed to protect and serve, and Spider Punk was the only symbol of hope the community had. You admired the infamous anarchist, and you wanted everybody to know about him— the possibly only voice of the people.

So that’s why you used the section of the Daily newspaper granted to you, to spread word of Spider Punk’s actions and his defiance against the government. You wanted the people to know about what was going on, to feel empowered knowing that one of their own was rising up against the injustices against them. And if it costed your job, or even your life, so be it. You weren’t just gonna sit around and act like nothing was happening.

Your boss’ words were only fueling your anger. This wasn’t the first time you two had this conversation, in fact, all of your conversations were about this topic. It took all of your willpower to not punch him in the jaw as you opened your mouth to say “But sir, the newspaper is meant to inform people. And with all the smashed law enforcement cars and protests going on, it would be wise to—“ “I dont’t want to hear it! Keep this up, and you can kiss your place here goodbye!” He yelled in your face, and that was your last straw.

“I don’t have to, ‘cause I quit. You can kiss all of your readers goodbye, ‘cause I know damn well the only reason they read your lousy ass newspaper is because of information I provide!” You snapped, turning on your heel and marching out the door, tuning out the string of curses that followed as you exited the building with smoke practically blowing out of your ears. Ok, maybe you handled that the wrong way. But it was too late to go back now… well, you still had to get your stuff from your desk. ‘Embarrassing’ You thought to yourself, keeping your head held high as you turned back around to enter the building for the last time.

You didn’t stay there long, since you didn’t even have much to begin with. The items that occupied your desk consisted of your notepad, your trusty laptop (it was old enough to be considered a fossil), an uneaten nutter butter, and your camera thats strap wrapped comfortably around your neck while your other belongings were placed inside your satchel. With all your items packed away, you were now walking the streets of London as the reality of the situation set in— you didn’t have a job anymore. No source of money, and no way to have a voice in the community.

‘You’re forgetting to breath’ You told yourself, registering the tightness that was beginning to form in your chest and taking a couple deep breaths to ease the panic. This was fine, you were fine. You could always start a blog of your own, and there were plenty of jobs that needed more employees. ‘But it’s not as easy as it sounds, i’ll need to fill out a application, i’ll need to be interviewed, and—‘ Your thoughts were cut short when you suddenly bumped into someone, and you muttered a quick apology before continuing on. “Oi, you’re that chick that writes fo’ the paper, aren’t you?”

You stop, turning to look back at the person you bumped into. He was quite the looker, if you were being completely honest. The male was tall, and dressed in outfit that screamed ‘punk’. He had well done wicks, and a confident aura surrounded him. “It’s rude to stare, y’know?” “Oh, i’m sorry. I spaced out for a second.” You apologized when he called you out, before adding “My name is _____”. The male nodded his head, his gloved hand tucked away in the pocket of his pants. “‘Obie, ‘Obie Brown” Holy shit, you knew he looked familiar. “Aren’t in a band?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “I play with ‘em occasionally, but I don’t believe in consistency.”

You slowly nodded your head, not bothering to question what he meant by that. “Riiight…” The sound of sirens caught your attention, and you looked over your shoulder to see the blue and red lights of law enforcement cars dancing off the walls of buildings. “I wouldn’t suggest goin that way, luv. There was a bad scrap with a couple fellas lookin for a bad time” Hobie warned you, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. Didn’t he come from that way?

The reporter in you told you that there was something amiss, but you didn’t act on the feeling. Not yet. “Yikes, thanks for the warning. I’ll take a different route to my flat.” You informed him, and he nodded his head before turning his back towards you. “I’ll be seein you ‘round, _____. Maybe come to one of my concerts, yeah?” He suggested as he started to walk away. But you weren’t listening.

You were too busy staring at the prominent red, spike having mask that stuck out of Hobie’s back pocket

“Yeah… i’ll take you up on that offer. Cheers!” You called out to Hobie, waiting a couple seconds before lifting your camera up and putting its viewfinder up to your eye, zooming in on the mask before snapping a picture of it. “Christ…” You muttered to yourself, staring at the screen of your camera in disbelief.

You just found yourself with knowledge that could cost you your life

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