#but as it stands i fuckin hope everyone involved gets fucked over

[gooopy]

I think part of why everyone is finding glee in the sub thing is because we are desensitized to death and tragedy and all that shit at this point. Like man, im hearing about people dying slow agonizing deaths over months because they cant afford basic medical supplies. People kill themselves because a funeral is cheaper and more painless than living in this hellscape. I know im watching in delight, because its their own damn fault. It is fucked up and sadistic and i know that but considering the fact that any one of those people in that sub could have changed thousands of lives for a fraction of that price by searching 'gofundme'? And instead they walk into the fuckin iron lung? Im gonna laugh. It is immoral and i am a bad person but god i hope they ate eachother in there. I hope they arent afforded a fast painless death (they were, im sure) but i can barely feel empathy for people i care about with how wrung out and exhausted i am, so uh. This is my way of saying 'i am sorry if you expected a moral take but brother i feel like i am in the stands of a gladiator fight cheerin for blood so you may want to unfollow'. Anyways vote now:

#rant #vent #cw suicide #cw death #oceangate #submarine #cw cannibalism #sorry i dont know how to tag this #but yeha no. tldr i dont got the empathy left to give a shit #i hope they ate eachother bro #no matter what i hope it serves as a lesson #also agaon cannot emphasize enough i know this is immensly fucked up ill bring it up w my therapist #but as it stands i fuckin hope everyone involved gets fucked over #you see the kid whos stepdad is on that sub? #he went to a blink182 concert and said 'its what my family wants' #also their mourning will be so much easier than ours would be #ours as a collective for 'not rich enough' #days off work. lengthy funeral. condolences and gifts and top notch care #bodies reconstructed to be full of life (if theres any left) #if i died yknow what i want my family to do? #cheapest option. cardboard box and cremate me #and were lucky. others wouldnt even get that #sorry im rambling but god damn #on the surface im delighted deeper down im just mad at capitalism #i hope an orca vomits up a leg or maybe an expensive watch or some shit

[livingemkayde]

ch iii. diced

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter three of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. phone sex?? yeah…phone sex. graphic depictions of male and female masturbation. dom!joel makes a reappearance. too much tension for one story. love triangle forming formed. mild allusions to physical fighting but only verbal fighting with the brothers LOL. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake). reader in her girl boss era (not sexually tho lol). 

a/n: ooooooooo i love you guys and im glad youre liking the story. im really happy with the way this chapter came out. WIG. please enjoy!!

summary: tensions run high at a family dinner at the miller's house. tommy drops you off at home, but its joel who ends up being the one talking to you until you fall asleep.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“Fighting at the table. Thought you were a gentleman,” you chuckle, nervously.  That right? Your breath hitches.  “Yeah.” Not anymore? “Not too sure anymore.”  ‘M sure I can convince you.  “You can try.”

You like cooking.

You like the meticulous steps involved in following a recipe.

You like how when it’s done, you can share it with the people you love. 

You stand at the kitchen counter, dicing an onion. Joel’s silent words ring in your mind as you stare down at the small little squares. 

You find your cheeks reddening more with each tick of the minute hand. The boys will be home later from their long day with the electrician. You asked one of Sarah’s teammates to drop her off at the house since your car was out of commission. 

The hours pass by, the chicken gets golden brown in the heat of the oven, salad gets tossed, potatoes get mashed. 

The Millers file in, Sarah first — she slumps down on the couch as you try to get her to wash up and put on a fresh set of clothes before setting up camp in front of the TV. 

She grumbles, but ultimately gives in, too tired to complain. You send her back to the couch after she’s done with a bowl of grapes and a cookie. 

Tommy is next, surprisingly sans his brother at his side.

“Hey…” you greet him with confusion laced in your tone. 

“Hey,” he gives you a hug, like always, and shuffles into the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything about Joel which seems weird. 

“Smells fuckin’ amazing ‘n here,” Tommy grumbles to himself, giving you a teasing squeeze on your hip while you pass to check on the chicken. 

He sits down at the table, his hand rubbing over his forehead. 

“Where’s Joel?” you inquire. Trying to keep your tone from sounding too interested. 

“Dunno, dropped me off and said he needed to check on something,” he grovels. 

You nod your head. 

Strange. 

“How was your day?” he asks, you just shrug.

“Tire’s fuck. ‘S alright though.”

He nods, his head comes back to his hands.

“Long day?” you ask, looking at him sympathetically. 

“Yeah,” he groans, standing to sneak a taste at the potatoes with a small spoon in hand. 

“Hey! Wait—” you attempt to stop his tricks, but he just laughs when you try to bat his hand away. 

“Electrican was a fuckin’ dick ‘n the drywall shipment is late so…” he huffs out, leaning back against the kitchen counter. You settle against the other counter, across the kitchen — the two of you facing each other. 

“‘M sorry,” you say and try to smile. These things happen with the brothers. The day's work seeping into dinner. You usually try to cheer up Tommy before he sits down with Sarah, but Joel is a different story. “Can you do anything about the guy?” 

“Not really, he’s supposed to be the best,” he shrugs. You stalk over near him, moving to stir the potatoes again, but he plays with the tail ends of your apron, and surprisingly, pulls you into a hug. 

You know it’s what he needs right now. A hug from a friend, and when the front door opens, you 

hope everyone in the room understands it's nothing more than that. 

Joel stands in the entryway. You can see him out of the corner of your eye. You can also see him hesitate in shrugging off his boots and flannel, taking in the scene unfolding before his eyes. 

Tommy Miller slumped against the counter with you in his arms. 

You pull away quickly. 

“Hey Joel,” you say, your hand coming to rub the back of your neck. 

“You makin’ dinner?” He asks, nodding his head at your greeting. You figure he’s pissed off about the day too, and seeing you with Tommy first thing when he opens the door certainly can’t help. 

“Yeah, just some chicken,” you say to him as he moves to kiss Sarah’s head and makes his way towards you and Tommy. 

“It’ll be ready soon,” you follow up with, he gives you a grunt in response, opening the fridge to get a beer. 

Joel passes you, and just when you think he’s too pissed to save it, he gives you a look. The one that leaves you breathless, the same look he always does — but only for a fleeting second with Tommy still close to your side. 

He leans down to your ear in passing, putting a steady hand on your low back that sends chills up your spine and whispers in a husky voice — 

“Thanks for cookin’ darlin’.” 

Jesus. 

You try to hide your flush but a smile falls on your face — Tommy notices. You know he notices, he’s not stupid. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged breath. 

You can’t think of anything besides, get the attention off you. 

“Sarah?” you call from the kitchen, you see her eyes peek out from over the couch. 

“Help me set the table, will you, doll?” 

“Sure,” she calls back. 

You move to grab the napkins and cutlery, but Tommy’s hands stop your movements. You look up to him at your side, he smiles at you. 

“Let me help,” he says, taking the cloth out of your hand. 

“Oh — okay. Thanks,” you say, brushing your hands off, setting up Sarah’s utensils instead. 

You shrug off your apron. Joel watches you the whole time while leaning against the sink. When you meet his eye, he just raises his eyebrows at you, taking another sip of his beer. 

You pull the chicken out of the oven, setting everything on the table. 

“Come get it, guys,” you say, pulling out Sarah’s chair. She sits by Tommy, he ruffles her hair — her giggling echoing through the kitchen like always.

You sit across from them, Joel at the head of the small table. It's funny. Most days you have dinner at the house, it doesn’t feel as formal as this. Tommy and Joel sit on the couch sometimes, watching whatever is on the TV, you help Sarah with her food at the table. 

But most days you have takeout or leftovers — not a meal you cooked. 

“How was soccer today?” you ask Sarah as she spoons mashed potatoes into her mouth. 

“It was so fun, Katie even got us matching bracelets,” she says, holding out her wrist, a clunky beaded bracelet hangs off it. 

“Very cool,” you admire the colorful charms, the brothers pretend to be interested. 

“Sorry I couldn’t pick you up, my tire popped,” you say to her. She gives you a confused look. 

“How does that even happen?” 

“You’re telling me, kid,” you smile at her, shaking your head. She laughs back.

“Speakin’ of that,” Joel cuts in, “Went by the shop to get a tire but they were closed. I'll take you tomorrow.”

“Oh — thanks, Joel,” you say, sipping on some water to hide your blush. 

Tommy grumbles from across the table.

“What was that?” you ask, he looks at you, then Joel, a certain uneasiness falls over the table. 

Some silence. He keeps looking at Joel with an emotion you can’t place.

“Told Joel I would take you,” he says after some time. 

Fuck. 

You sneak a glance at Joel. He looks at Tommy with a stiff stare. The room feels tense, other than Sarah picking at her salad. 

“Oh — it’s,” you nervously chuckle. “It’s okay. Actually I can probably —” 

“I gave her the tow,” Joel cuts you off. But he’s not talking to you, he’s talking to Tommy. 

You watch the wordless scene unfolding in front of you in awe. Your brows push together in a silent plea to stop. But the boys don’t look at you. They don’t break from looking at each other. 

“She called me,” Tommy says, the dinner in front of them abandoned. 

“You didn't go.” 

Fuck. 

“It's really not a problem, I can—” 

“I’ll help you change it,” Tommy cuts you off, glancing in your direction, then back to Joel. 

“I can change a tire,” Joel snaps, his voice raising slightly. 

You give them both a look, hoping to shut them up, but they don’t even glance your way. 

“Once your car is fixed can you take me to the library again after soccer?” Sarah says over the silence. 

You look back at her and try to make it seem like everything is okay. 

“Of course!” you say, cringing at your nervous intonation, but she giggles and thanks you nonetheless. 

“I know how to change a tire, but thanks for the offer,” you say, a nervous laugh breezing through your words. “Tommy, it’s okay that you couldn’t come —” 

You’re cut off again. It seems like you’re not really in this conversation. And they’re not really arguing about the tire. 

“I couldn’t go because you fucked it with the electrician,” Tommy bites back. 

“Tommy,” you say in a stern voice, looking at Sarah, and back to Tommy, a scowl across your face. But he doesn’t look back. 

It looks like Sarah is almost done with dinner anyways, her eyes trained towards the TV in the living room. 

“You done kiddo?” you whisper to her. She snaps out of it and nods, you tell her to put her plates in the sink and slip her another cookie. 

“Go pick out a book to read before bed.” 

She leaves. The tension doesn’t. 

“‘N why was the electrician mad?” Joel bites back when you join the table again. 

“Jesus,” Tommy says, he pulls back from their staring first, running a rough hand through his hair. 

“No, why was he mad?” Joel scowls. “Was it because you forgot to confirm for the drywall?” 

“Joel,” you say, confused why he’s still letting this go on. Of course, he doesn’t look at you. 

Tommy just scoffs, avoiding everyone’s gaze while staring down at the floor. You see his shoulders puffing. 

A few more moments of unbearably tense silence. You don’t want to step in, this is obviously some stupid argument and you have no idea what you could possibly say to make it better. You’re partially scared, and halfway pissed because they’re fighting and cursing in front of Sarah — ruining the meal you spent the afternoon making. 

“‘S what I thought,” Joel announces to the table. 

Your eyes widen more if that’s possible. 

Oh, fuck. 

Tommy slams his fist on the table, standing, Joel gets to his feet too. You stand, moving around the table before any blows are actually thrown, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“What the hell are you guys doing?” you say, your voice is a little hushed because of Sarah. 

“I dunno,” Joel whispers, still looking at Tommy. “What are we doin’.” It's a question, but it doesn’t sound like one.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“You guys will figure it out with the electrician,” you say, hesitant, you’re not sure if that will make the situation any better, but you’re trying your best. 

“And I can take care of my own tire,” you let out a breathless laugh, trying to diffuse the tension.

Joel looks over to you at that, and his brows slightly unfurrow. 

You look at Tommy, but he looks furious. 

“Guys,” you say, looking between them, pleading with your voice. 

The clock continues counting — seemingly without the three of you — suspended, or maybe frozen in time. It feels like hours, you all stand there. You can see Joel’s hand ball into a first. Even when the chicken goes cold, and the drinks get lukewarm, they stand. You’re beginning to worry nothing you can say will fix this. Their competitive nature has always been apparent, but this is something different. Like they’re talking to each other without words, and you won’t ever be able to understand their unspoken language. 

“I’m gonna head out,” Tommy finally says, breaking first. You let out a sign, stepping back, holding a hand to your forehead. 

“Thanks for cooking. I — do you need a ride?” Tommy says, grabbing his coat. 

Fuck. It never stops, does it?

You look over at Joel for a split second when Tommy looks down to get his shoes. 

Go. 

He says with his eyes. 

You wonder how many infinite laters can be braced on his silent eyes before it all spills out and buries you alive. 

But he says it. 

Later. 

You nod, still a bit shaken up by the stalemate.  

“Okay. Let me just clean up,” you say, grabbing at some dishes. 

“I got it,” Joel cuts in, taking the dishes from your hands, nodding his head towards Tommy. 

 You mumble a quiet thanks and follow Tommy out the door. 

It's silent when you get in the car, and when you pull out onto the street. You pick at the skin on your fingernails, a nervous sweat breaks out in your palms. Tommy is tense beside you. His knuckles on the steering wheel show white. 

“I —” he huffs out a breath, already nearing your house. “‘M sorry.” 

He sounds actually genuine. And you know he’s had a shit day. 

“What was all that, Tommy?” you ask in a quiet voice. 

“I don't know.” He shakes his head, rearing your house, and pulling up, putting the car in park. 

“Work and then I —” he laughs a bit. “I fuckin’ told Joel I would take you so, I don't even know what he was —” he drops his head. 

“I don't know. I'm sorry.” 

You feel a bit bad. 

“I appreciate the offers but I can do things on my own, T. You know that,” you say, bracing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“I know. I — I just wanted to help,” he grovels. 

“I know,” you echo, giving him a smile. 

He smiles back. 

“Haven't seen Joel that worked up in a while,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Work’s getting to him, maybe. Just like it's getting to you,” you tease, poking his shoulder. You're a bit breathless from his brainless comment about Joel. 

“Maybe. I dunno —” he huffs. “Anyways. Let me make it up to you.” 

You raise your brows at his words. 

“We'll take you out on friday? Bar?” 

Your eyes widen. 

As in — you and Joel in a bar again. Together. 

And Tommy.

“Oh, um —” your phone buzzes in your hand, Joel’s name pops up and you try to hide it quickly. “Okay. Sure.” 

“Drinks on me,” he winks, you pull off your seatbelt, giving him a fake appreciative look. 

“$1 beers, wow thank you so much, Tommy,” you say, putting a hand to your chest. 

“Shut up, you're lucky I offered,” he teases as you hop out of the truck. 

“See you,” you wave. 

“Get some sleep, babe.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Goodnight,” you say back, closing the car door and walking inside.

Your heart picks up at the thought of going back to the bar you and Joel first met. You know the brothers frequent the place. To say you were nervous was an understatement. And Joel definitely doesn’t know about Tommy’s plans yet. 

You haul yourself upstairs to your bedroom, you’re slipping on a big t-shirt from your dresser, and washing up when you hear your phone buzzing from your bed.  

Your phone buzzes again, you pull it out from under your pillow, it's Joel. 

But he's calling you. 

You freeze with the phone in your hand. 

Fuck. 

Joel has never called you. Even when he gave you his number at the bar it was him asking for you to call him. His name flashing on your screen makes you squirm. 

Joel M.

It’s the same from all those weeks ago. You never bothered to change it to his full last name — you remember when he put it in your phone and all his touches prior. You remember everything about that night. 

You don't want it to go to voicemail so you take a deep breath, and answer the call. You put the phone up to your ear hesitantly, your breath a bit shaky. 

“Hello?” 

Where are you? 

No preamble. No greeting. 

“I’m home. I just got home,” you say, breathless. 

‘Preciate you cookin’. 

“Sure,” you breathe out, you’re a bit confused why he’s calling you just to say thanks. 

He stays silent for a while. 

‘M sorry. ‘Bout dinner. 

Your long sigh crosses the line. 

“Fighting at the table. Thought you were a gentleman,” you chuckle, nervously. 

That right?

Your breath hitches. 

“Yeah.”

Not anymore?

“Not too sure anymore.” 

‘M sure I can convince you. 

“You can try.”

You can hear his silken breath echo through the call. The static pierces through the ringing in your ears. You settle on your bed, laying on your back as you desperately try to imagine what he’s doing right now. The white ceiling above you maps out his face.

He clears his throat like he’s scared of continuing down that road. 

Get home okay?

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you. 

“Yes, Tommy is capable of things, you know.”

He doesn’t respond. You try to lighten the mood. 

“Said you guys are gonna take me out on Friday,” he grunts. “Make it up to me or something.” 

Is that what you want?

“Could be fun.” 

Could be.

“I haven’t been out in a while.” 

Yeah?

“Mhm. You guys are a full time job.”

When was the last time you went out?

You freeze. He knows the last time. You both know the last time you went out to the bar downtown. You’re sure of that fact, and that he hears your breath get heavy through the phone. 

You think about being indirect. Beating around the bush. Teasing. Say something snarky like you know the last time but it’s getting a bit old, and there’s no hiding things now. 

“When I met you,” you settle for. You hear his own breath through the line. 

He stays silent, obviously a bit shocked by your sudden bluntness. You try to keep it lighthearted, even though the notion is anything but. 

“Might have to go shopping if we’re goin’ out,” you laugh. 

Nah, could just wear the skirt from last time.

Jesus. 

“You remember?” you gulp. 

‘Course I do. 

 You try to laugh, but it comes out strangled. 

“Didn’t know you thought about me so much, Miller.”

I always think about you.

Jesus, fuck. 

So much for being light hearted. 

Maybe this is the later he kept telling you, but it doesn’t feel like it. To you, later, meant hey, let's talk about whatever this is, later and not, let's flirt with each other over the phone, later. You keep trying to picture him. There’s no way he’s sitting in the living room or in the kitchen with you on the phone like this. Right? 

Your fingers find the soft cotton hidden under your too-big shirt. You play with the hem of your underwear absentmindedly. 

You hear him shuffling a bit. 

“Where are you?” 

My bedroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Sittin’ down.

“Where?” 

Jesus. 

“What?” 

What are you tryin’ to get at?

“I just wanna know what you’re doing.”

I’m — 

He hesitates for the first time all night. 

I’m on my bed. What are you doin’?

“I’m laying in bed.”

He sucks in a breath. 

“That all you’re doin’?”

There it is. The point of no return, the final tipping point, the flood gates opening, and never, ever shutting again — at least for tonight. For now, at this moment — whatever happens after this is up in the air. But you don’t think about that right now. All you can think about is how the drawl in his voice somehow compels you to sneak past the hem of your underwear.  

“Maybe. Why’d you call me?” 

Wanted to apologize. 

“That’s it?”

Maybe. 

He echoes your previous statement. You smile. The rising heat between your legs comes to a breaking point. So you bite the bullet. 

“Joel,” you say, his breaths are a bit husky. You know he can hear the small whimper in your voice. 

What do you need, angel?

“Can I? Please?”

Yes, fuck — yes. Askin’ so nicely f’me.

You let out a puff of air through stiff lips. Your fingers find your swollen clit, sinking down towards your entrance to collect the growing wetness there. You strangle out moans and something sounding like Joel’s name. 

You’re about to push two fingers inside yourself, when his voice cuts through the phone. 

Only one. 

It’s like he can read your mind. 

“Joel —” you whisper, a plea, but he cuts you off. 

C’mon be good for me, baby. 

You grovel, and your cheeks heat at how easily you comply, not really putting up any fight. You can’t. Not when he sounds like that, close to your ear, his words of praise pushing you closer to the edge as you sink your middle finger inside and gasp at the intrusion. 

Feel good? 

You can hear him shuffling, a small groan sounds from the other side of the line. You know what he’s doing, and it pushes you even further, maybe even becoming more bold. 

“Joel — need more,” you whine. You can hear him working himself. Your finger does nothing to stretch yourself out. Not when you think about the night at the bar, and how the sweet sting of his cock made you see stars. 

One more — slow. 

You groan as you slip another finger inside. The wetness from your entrance ruins your underwear, and threatens to spill out onto your bedding as well. 

You whine nonsense to him. You’re worked up, have been too distracted the last few weeks to touch yourself or seek anyone out. You didn’t even want to knowing you would see Joel the next day. He was enough to keep you going. But you’re just a woman. And you have needs. 

Feel good, baby? Tell me how it feels.

You pump your wrist faster, your orgasm nearing. You desperately rut against the palm of your hand, your shirt riding up. His words from the other side of the line spur you on further. 

“‘S good, Joel. Feels so — good.” 

Fuck, say my name again.

Your eyes open slightly at that, the plea mirroring when he had you up against the wall in the bar. His name. He always wants you to say his name. 

“Joel —” you whine. “Wish it was you.” 

I know, baby, I know. 

 “Please.” 

You know we can’t. 

“God — fuck,” you whimper to him. The mixture of your own fingers crooking just right inside you threatens to push you into a white hot orgasm. You don’t know where the next thing you say comes from. Or if you’d ever let another guy do this with you. But it feels right in the moment. And the sound of him working himself faster tells you he’s close too. 

“Can I cum? Please?” you whisper. 

You swear you can hear his hand stutter. The groan he lets out at your words is closer to a growl. 

Jesus, fuck — such an angel. You know that right?

“Joel,” you continue, too blissed out to acknowledge his praise. It shoots right down to the spot you keep working on instead. 

Not yet — know you’ll be a good girl and wait f’me. 

You do, wait for him. Your fingers slow down a fraction, staving you off your fast approaching orgasm. You can hear him work himself, the thought of him finishing into his palm makes it that much harder for you to hold off. 

Fuck baby — goddamn — 

“Joel, please?” you whine when he starts to calm down his breathing. You’re teetering right on the edge. The only thing keeping you from falling is the thought of his praise. 

Alright — fuck — let me hear you, baby.

You come hard around your fingers, biting into your lip hard in favor of screaming. Your back arches off the bed, the phone threatens to slip from your hand, you can barely hear Joel’s praise in the back of your head. It’s almost like he’s really here, whispering into your neck while you climax. 

You expect your post orgasmic haze to send you into a spiral about a certain brother and the fact that technically you just got off on the phone with your boss. But it doesn’t, you fall back into the mattress, spent. Joel’s words ring through your ears, whispering praises. 

He tells you to get some rest. 

You do. 

_

chapter iv. tacit

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @jasminedragoon @rainbowcosmicchaos @akah565

@going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @dizzyforyou @defnotashifter @missgurrl @pedropascalissofine @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @purplemechanics @suzmagine @skysmiller @untamedheart81 @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @hellaradd @josephine1837 @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @noisynightmarepoetry @tsunamistorm123

@awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @violinchick @rhoorl @yoongjennie88 @lawh0re

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller self insert #the last of us #joel fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal as joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dom!joel #dom!joel miller #tommy miller #chaser

[ghostsbimbo]

Labour - Simon Ghost Riley x OC

A/N: This is extremely short because it's actually a story - specifically flash fiction unit - for my Creative Writing class. I haven't even done anything with this OC that much tbh. I just decided to write fanfic for this thing. Painfully obvious that it's inspired by Labour by Paris Paloma. Word count: 752. Angst to Fluff. Limited on word count for what it is [ could only go up to 750 ] so it's not the best.

Maisie let out a soft huff, closing her eyes. She flexed her fingers before gripping the edge of the sink, taking a deep breath as she tried to relax. She knew something like this was going to happen. It always did when he returned from deployment. She turned around, looking up at him as she did. The 6’4” man in the skull mask should’ve scared her, should’ve made her tremble in fear especially with all his tactical gear and being covered in head to toe, but after working with him for years and dating for only three with a child, she wasn’t phased by his persona anymore. She was quite sick of it really - how he hid behind the tough guy exterior and more walls than a castle to keep people out. 

She wanted out of the relationship. She should’ve listened to everyone’s warnings prior to getting in a relationship. She should’ve listened to her brother when he told her it was a bad idea to get involved, but here she was years later, retired from being a medic for the task force and living in Manchester. She dried her hands with the kitchen rag before shoving past him, even though she knew he’d just grab at her, stopping her from leaving his presence. 

As if she called it, his gloved hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. 

“Don’t leave when I’m talking to you.” He demanded, looking down at his smaller partner. She quickly tore herself from his grip. She couldn’t believe the audacity he had, but considering he was used to people bending to his every whim and being afraid of his size, she understood why. “Don’t be an asshole every time you come home from deployments or whatever fuckin else the task force has you do now.” She stated bluntly, glaring up at him as she did so. Simon immediately rolled his eyes, removing his mask, his eyes being covered in the god forsaken eyeblack he always wore under his mask. He tossed his mask onto the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Maybe if you weren’t so lazy while I was gone I wouldn’t be.” Simon stated bluntly. Maisie immediately looked up at him, and he was sure if looks would kill, he’d most likely be dead in that moment. It was safe for him to assume he fucked up. 

“Lazy? I’m Lazy?” Maisie questioned, before chuckling darkly. “I’m raising our daughter, Simon, and with that, every time you come home, you get to come home to a spotless house, hot meal, and whatever fuckin’ else!” She yelled. “You come home to me, ready to bandage you up and wait on you hand and foot, but god forbid I don’t wanna have sex with you as soon as you get home though.” She walked past him, hoping he wouldn’t follow. Of course, the thud of the man’s boots are quick to follow after her. God she was thankful her daughter was at a friend’s house. 

“Honestly, I’m your therapist, maid, a baby factory even though I can’t get pregnant, nurse, servant..You name it Simon Riley and all those roles are filled by me, including taking on a fatherly role for our daughter because you’re never here like you promised you be.” Maisie stated, venom dripping from each word.  She couldn’t hold it in anymore, she had been keeping it bottled up with the exception of her weekly therapy appointments. Thankfully, her therapist was a saint who helped her build up this courage to talk back to him. 

Simon just glared at her. He wasn’t used to her snapping at him, or really standing up for herself against him. Usually, she was pliant. He easily molded her into what he wanted in a spouse, despite the fact that he was barely home to even benefit from all the work he put into making her what he wanted. Sure, they didn’t start out that way, but the little ideas in his head had fully bloomed to turn him into an even shittier man than he already was, and it was too late to change that - he knew he’ll probably just get more shitty anyways. 

Simon let out a soft huff, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t one to express his emotions much, but this certainly made him realize he had to stop being emotionally constipated all the time. “Let's talk about this, yeah?” He questioned.

“Fine” Maisie agreed, knowing she would regret this.

#rat writes #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #cod mwiii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod mw2 x oc #simon riley #simon “ghost” riley #lieutenant simon “ghost” riley

[absurdthirst]

The Bodyguard: My Protector {Dave York x F!Popstar!Reader}

Rating: Explict

Word Count: 18.5K

Warnings: Enemies to lovers? Teasing, angst, creepy photographers, controlling behavior, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, obsessed fans, stalking, violence, mentions of blood/blood broken bones, death, mentions of marking

Comment: As a pop star, you are being kept in the dark about the threats that surround you. Your security being led by Dave York, one of the best in the business. Driving you crazy as he restricts your freedom and still makes you burn for him.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

A/N: The mood board below is not meant to indicate the race or ethnicity of the reader. Mood board by @pedropascalsx

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

‘You speak to me. Through every word you sing. ‘Take my heart and cherish it forever, I’ve never known true love until you’. I know you wrote that for me. Baby, you know I would never do anything to hurt you. You are my world, my soul. I don’t understand why you didn’t see me last time, maybe your people were rushing you by too quickly? I screamed your name and told you it was me, but you just need to tell your people to let me in backstage. I can just wait for you there.’ 

“Jesus.” Dave slaps the copy of the rambling, startlingly concerning, letter down and sighs as he leans forward and reaches for the scotch bottle that he had hoped he wouldn’t need. “This 'Martin' sound fucking insane.” He snorts to himself. Resnick, his right hand man, was on his way downtown with the original copy, to take it to a lab that was willing to run an analysis on it. Dave York didn’t gain a reputation as one of the best bodyguards in the business by cutting corners or being sloppy. Now he’s protecting, you - one of the newest and hottest performers - and his gut feeling is that this person is fucking dangerous.

He’s doing it again, you think to yourself as you roll your eyes. The rest of the team are being let in on some secret he has clearly made them agree to keep from you. His eyes dart towards you a few times before he passes something to Resnick, and you have to fight the urge to stomp your feet, charge over there and find out what it is. He’s keeping something big from you and you’re not going to stand for it much longer.

“You keep your fucking eyes out.” His tone brokers zero room for error. “No one without a picture ID pass gets by you.” That had been one of the first new rules that he had implemented on your tour. There were pictures on every badge around everyone’s neck or they don’t get near you. He’s seen too much to risk it. “And you keep your fuckin’ mouths shut around her.” His job is to worry, your job is to get up on the stage and perform.

‘Asshole.’ You mouthed as you watched him order everyone around. Your father had insisted on hiring him about a year ago after an incident involving a ‘fan’ climbing over your  gate and somehow going undetected. Thankfully you were out of town visiting family, but seeing the security footage of him sleeping in your bed made you physically sick. After that day your father took control and hired Dave York. Signing every contract Dave produced without even discussing how much and how impacted your freedom would end up being.

You hated him. He was rude, demanding, controlling and the thing that made everything 100x worse? He was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. The competence and effortless way he captivated a whole room was mesmerising to watch. 

You found yourself riling him up on purpose on a few occasions just so you could secretly watch the way the material of his shirt would get all taunt across his strong shoulders and back. But most of all you wanted to hear the way his voice got raspier and raspier as he got angrier. The sound of his voice going straight to your core as dampening your panties as he cursed out your bratty behaviour.

Dave looks around the room, his eyes meeting every one of his team and he finally nods. “Okay.” He grunts, motioning them to leave. “Get the fuck out of here and do your jobs.” Every single man on his team had been carefully vetted by him and he only took the best. Men who wouldn’t hesitate to kill if necessary and die when warranted. Some scoffed at the idea of dying for some pop star princess, and they had quickly gotten their pink slip.

“How am I getting to my photoshoot this afternoon?” you asked your PR manager who was furiously tapping on her phone screen, “I’m happy to drive myself.”

Dave walks up to you and the vapid woman who runs your PR. He swears that woman would sell your fucking soul for a good headline. He hears the end of your comment about driving yourself and chuckles. “Funny, princess.” He tells you dryly. “You’re not driving yourself anywhere. I’m taking you.” He doesn’t know what it is exactly, but you aren’t going anywhere without him.

You turn to face him and scoff, “No. You are not. I am fully capable of driving myself and I am not a princess.” The urge to storm away grows stronger but the look on his face tells you that he wouldn’t let you if you tried.

“Oh so US Magazine didn’t call you ‘this summer’s bonafide pop Princess’?” Dave taunts, rolling his eyes at how fucking immature you can be at times. He’s never had a grown ass woman so willing to fight him on *everything*. “You are capable of driving yourself, doesn’t mean you’re going to.”

“Didn’t realize you were such an avid reader of trashy magazines, Dave, you should have said! I would have signed a copy especially for you.” You counter back to his mocking. “I don’t need you to drive me, so I will be driving myself.”

Dave’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “Not today, princess.” He growls, his voice low enough to have most cautious men stepping back, but you aren’t a man and you aren’t cautious.

“You’ll have to take me kicking and screaming,” you grit out from behind your teeth. Your lack of freedom since Dave's takeover has started to really piss you off. If it isn’t him that’s always a stone's throw away it’s one of his goons and you’re tired of being treated like you're incapable of looking after yourself.

“I’m a grown woman, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Obviously you do.” Dave snorts, stepping closer to you and sending you a withering glare that would make most men cower. “Otherwise daddy wouldn’t have hired me.” It’s better that you hated him than started playing fast and loose with your safety. As much as he wants to drag you over his knee and spank your ass until you can’t sit down, he cares about your well-being. “Just…let me drive you. It’s my job.” He’s noticed you’re all woman, but he can’t think about that now.

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth, “But I have to make a few stops on the way.” You hate the way your stomach twists at the way he’s looking at you. If you weren’t 100% convinced it was hatred you might have considered it was a hunger burning in those dark eyes. “And by the way my Daddy doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“No?” He quirks a brow up and gives a low chuckle, knowing your father controls everything to do with your life, including your career. “Too bad, although what you really need, I doubt your daddy would be up for giving you. He's too…soft to do it.”

You raise a brow to match the expression splashed across his face and take a small step forward until you’re toe to toe and ask him, “And what is it that I really need, Mr York?”

“A firm hand.” Dave smirks. “Applied liberally and quickly to the bottom of your spoiled ass.” He could get fired for talking to you this way, but you won’t. Your father wouldn’t allow it because he knows that Dave is needed, even if he keeps you in the dark on why.

“I’ll make sure to tell my next hook-up to pay special attention to that area just for you,” you reply with a sugary sweet smile. “We have to leave in an hour.”

Dave huffs, watching you turn and flounce off, trying to pretend that you didn’t get under his skin. You sleep with such pretty boys. None of them are even remotely capable of being able to protect you beyond making sure you don’t drop your purse. He huffs to himself, turning around and striding out towards the garage. He needs to make sure your SUV is ready for your little errands.

With less than an hour to get ready and get out of the door you bounced off to your bedroom and locked the door behind you. Resisting the urge to take care of the pulsing in your little bundle of nerves that had been steadily growing since he felt the need to involve himself in your discussion.

Instead you had a very quick shower, throwing on a quick outfit that was cheap and worn enough to not worry about it getting ruined in hair and make up and grabbed your purse before making your way back downstairs and towards the front door.

Dave is waiting for you when you come downstairs, on his phone and scrolling through the different emails that he has already sent to the lab about the letters. Another letter fired off to your publicity to screen all your mail and any more from that person should be brought to his attention immediately. Your popularity is growing and with it, the number of security threats.

“Let’s go,” you simply murmur at him as you push past the door and make your way towards the waiting car.

You slide into the passenger seat and immediately go to plug your phone into the aux cord.

Dave shakes his head, huffing under his breath. No matter how many fucking times he tells you, you refuse to sit in the back unless you are arriving at an event.

“Any requests?” you ask with a grin, knowing full well that he’s pissed at you for sitting in the front. Also remember I wanted to stop off somewhere first, I have a craving for a milkshake.”

“Yeah…” Dave shuts his door and grabs his seatbelt. “Move to the back and buckle your fucking seatbelt.” He knows you won’t, so he is already starting the engine.

“Temper temper, Mr. York,” you reply as you switch on a random playlist. You look at the window and watch as your house gets smaller and smaller as he makes his way towards the studio. “I have no idea what magazine this is for.” You admit and you start pulling at your sleeve.

“They didn’t tell you?” He asks, not even taking his eyes off the road. “Figures. Do you want Baskin Robbins or Cold Stone?” He asks, acknowledging your desire for a milkshake. “Or McDonalds?” He doesn’t tell anyone about your craving for the fast food milkshake even if he knows Arby’s is better.

“Nope. I just get told where to go and when to be there.” You reply with a shrug, “Anywhere closest with a drive-thru, please. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He doesn’t turn towards you, just scanning the road for the closest restaurant that has milkshakes before he finds one about a quarter of the mile up the road.

“Weren’t you like a Marine or something? Why would you want to waste your time doing this?”

“Would you rather I just killed people?” He asks, tossing you a glance as he pulls into the parking lot to circle around and enter the drive through. “It’s not wasting time protecting someone. Just traded my country for a person and use the skills they taught me.” He smirks. “Plus the pay is better.”

“Ohh please,” you scoff back, “You hate this job. You hate me. You’re keeping god knows what from me!”

“I don’t hate the job, or you.” Dave pulls the car up to the window and turns towards you expectantly. “Chocolate or strawberry?” He demands, wanting to know what flavor you are craving.

You scoff again, “Sure, you don’t. Strawberry.”

Dave turns back towards the window. Once the person behind the speaker finishes their greeting, Dave orders your strawberry milkshake. Pulling forward when directed and instead of using the credit card he’s supposed to use for any purchases for you, he slips his own to the bored teenager at the payment window. It’s something he’s done when you just want a bit of junk, knowing your dad would object to you eating like crap when you are on tour. He doesn’t see Dave’s personal credit card bill and you’ve never noticed, so it’s his little secret.

“Thank you,” you say as he passes you your drink and you immediately take a large sip. The moan that leaves your lips is sinful as you indulge yourself in the sweet treat.

“You’re welcome, princess.” He pulls off from the window and moves to the exit. “What other errands do you need to run?” He demands, still unsure why you think he hates his job. He’s gruff, doesn’t take shit, but he’s never taken anything out on you. He’s just….rigid in his methods.

“You want a sip?” you offer, slightly annoyed he never orders anything for himself. You move the cup in front of his mouth and place the straw on his lips. A smile curling up on yours as await his reaction. “No other errands today. Just this goddamn photoshoot.”

Instead of pushing it away, Dave wraps his lips around the straw and sucks. Groaning at the sweet taste of the strawberry milkshake bursting on his tongue, he takes another gulp before leaning his head back. “Photo shoot, got it.”

“Taste good?” You ask as your thighs clench together at the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “Yeah! Get ready to sit around and be bored out of your mind for three hours.”

“Tastes good.” Dave can’t say that he particularly cares for the photo shoots, a lot of the shit is just pretentious bullshit to him, but he does like seeing you in the little outfits. “I have plenty of emails to go through to keep me busy.” He tells you as he starts to drive towards the studio where the shoot is taking place.

“Mhmm,” you hum back at his tone. Clearly ignoring your attempts to flirt or at least make the atmosphere a little less… boring. “Sounds like you've got it all figured out.”

You spend the rest of the journey in silence, occasionally sipping on your milkshake and tapping on your thigh. The studio is in a surprisingly residential part of LA, tucked away somewhere quiet and away from the flashes from the herds of paparazzi that swarm the busier parts of the city.

He orders you to wait and you roll your eyes as he rounds the car to open the door. He ushers you into the studio and immediately starts asking a million questions about how can or can’t access the studio and ensuring that no one without a keycard or pass will be able to get in.

You offer the receptionist a small smile and mouth ‘sorry’ as he continues to whittle off all of his demands. Never before had someone been so thorough… Even he seems to be a little over the top today, you think to yourself as you stand quietly next to him.

Dave is moderately satisfied when his questions have been answered but he’s not thrilled at the security for this place. Instead of working on those emails like he had claimed, his head is going to be on a swivel. Finally, he turns back towards you and motions you over. “We’re ready.”

“Hair and makeup?” you ask the receptionist and she dutifully points you in the direction. You glance over and Dave and he nods his head as you make your way down the hall. “I wonder what the hell I'll be wearing in this one.” You say with a smirk.

“Maybe they will actually put some damn clothes on you.” He grunts, appalled at how little clothes they wanted you to perform in. You were a fucking singer, not a stripper.

“Doubtful,” you say with a shrug as you make your way to the makeup chair. A hoard of people immediately emerging towards you with thousands of dollars worth of makeup that’ll make you look almost unrecognizable when they’re done. “Enjoy your emails.” You shoot back at him over your shoulder.

He huffs, slowly following you but keeping his eyes out for any potential issues. You don’t seem happy with this photo shoot, and if he needs to, he will tell them that you are leaving. You are a pain in his ass, but you deserve consideration. It should have been your choice to be here to begin with.

The interview is brief, she sits and asks the questions whilst you’re poked and prodded in hair and make up. Dave had set a few more ground rules than usual and banned them from asking ANY questions about your personal life and the interviewer is clearly pissed at the lack of artistic freedom she’s left to work with and after about twenty minutes of generic questions she pretty much gives up and announces that the majority of the interview will be focusing on the new album rather than gossip.

You roll your eyes as you're presented with your first outfit of the shoot, it shows more than you’re comfortable with but you don’t have the energy to argue. So you pull on the almost see through body con and make your way into the studio.

The photographer wastes no time walking up to you and grabbing at your waist, pulling you in for an uncomfortable hug.

Dave always tries to hang around the edges of the photo shoot. Keeping a cup of ridiculously expensive - yet somehow horrible tasting - coffee in his hands in order to keep from looking like a hulking thug. He is there to be intimidating, yes, but it does no good to make people try to skitter away and hide. He frowns when the photographer’s fingers dig into your waist and he takes a step forward. His job is to protect you from unwanted threats and fans, but he has no problem telling a self important prick to get his fucking hands off you. “Okay.” He snaps. “Take the damn pictures. We don’t have all day.”

You spend the next ten minutes being contorted and molded into the most uncomfortable positions known to man. Your eyes seek Dave as the photographer makes a comment that makes you shudder and your stomach twist, before sending you off for your second outfit change. 

“Jesus,” you murmur as you look at the two piece swimsuit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was supposed to be ironic, the set decorated like it was the middle of winter and you’re parading around in summer gear.

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath before putting on the swimsuit and covering it with a robe and making your way back out to the studio.

Desperate to keep away from his judging glare you kept Dave out of your line of sight and dropped the robe with a grimace and exhale that screamed, ‘I don’t want to do this.’ The material had barely hit the floor before the creepy photographer was making a beeline straight over to you.

Dropping the coffee into the trash, Dave can see how uncomfortable you are. His face twisting into a deeper scowl as he charges forward and reaches you right as the twerp reaches you and grips the waistband of your outfit to yank the hips holes higher to show off more of you and damn near exposes your fucking cunt. “You’re done.” He spits, grabbing the man’s hand and twisting it around so that the fucker is helpless to move any way but where Dave directs him - which is away from you. “This is fucking done.” He growls again, ignoring the shouts and curses from the photographer and the people rushing over. “Go get dressed, princess.”

You nod your head at Dave and almost run back to the dressing room, unable to hide from the sound of Dave and the photographer yelling at each other.

You pull off the swimsuit and quickly dress back into your casual clothes before stepping out the door and calling Dave’s name. You know you’re about to be in for a world of hurt when your PR team and your parents hear that you didn’t complete the shoot, but you push down those worries and start making your way to the exit.

“- I don’t give a rat’s ass who the fuck you think you are.” Dave shouts, not backing down from the prima Donna in front of him. “You don’t fucking touch her. The shit you were making her do was boarderline sexual harassment and you aren’t going to do shit about it. Otherwise the local PD might get a tip about the fucking pound of coke you gave in here.”

You stand by the desk in reception waiting for him to come to you. “Dave,” you yell back towards the studio before deciding to go wait by the car.  The air feels thick and you’re not ready for the fall out that’s to come.

The photographer jerks back and Dave smirks a very pleased smile. One that says he’s gotten his point across. “Use what you’ve got, or fuck off. And don’t worry, I’ll tell her people myself.” He turns around and strides off, rushing towards the door to find you.

The sound of the studio door slamming makes you jump, you turn around to see Dave making his way over to you. “I’m so fucked,” you say as you pull on the door handle seconds after he unlocks it with his key fob, “My dad is going to be so pissed. He worked for months to get me a photoshoot with him.”

“He is a fucking coked up pervert.” Dave snarls, snatching the door from your hands and watching as you climb into the seat. “I’ll take the heat, don’t worry, princess.”

“Good luck with that,” you sigh, “Thank you though. I’ve learned to accept that kind of behavior and it was nice to have someone on my side for a change.”

"No one will touch you like that while I'm working to protect you." Dave promises darkly. "Fucker is lucky I didn't break his arm."

"Yeah?" you ask with a slight smirk, "You'd really protect me, huh?"

Dave rolls his eyes and turns to look at you when he goes to shut the door. "It's what I'm paid to do, princess." He reminds you, shutting the door and walking around the SUV.

You watch him as he rounds the car, before opening the door. "Is it too late to run another errand? I'm sure there's some dry cleaning we can pick up somewhere before dealing with this." 

He snorts and tosses you a smug smirk. "Someone's not ready to face daddy?" He asks mockingly before he starts the car. He doesn't answer you, but he pulls out of the parking lot and turns the opposite way from your house.

"Nope," you say putting extra emphasis behind the 'P' "You wanna go eat?"

Dave chuckles and looks back at the road after glancing at you. "It won't be five stars, Princess, but l'll take you to eat the best fucking food you've ever had in your life.”

"Sounds good." You say with a smile before looking over at him, he seems the most relaxed he has all day and you wonder if it's because you're not at his throat for once.

It's not an incredibly far drive, but Dave pulls off the main boulevard and enters a gated community, slowing at the wrought iron fencing and pressing a button on the little pad inside the SUV to allow the gate to swing open silently. Nodding to the man in the guard shack as he drives through and down the street.

You raise an eyebrow as you take in the rows and rows of houses with meticulously kept lawns, "Where are you taking me, Mr. York?"

"Oh it's Mister York now." He snorts. "Told you, I'm taking you to have the best damn food you've ever had in your life." He reminds you. "At my house."

"Something tells me you like being called things that assert your authority." you giggle, "Do you cook? Or do you have a secret wife you've never mentioned?"

He rolls his eyes again and drums his fingers on the steering wheel, reconsidering this entire thing. It was stupid to bring you to his house. "You think I have a wife?"

"I don't know," you say with a shrug, " know three things about you. Your name, your job and I learned today that you like strawberry milkshakes."

Dave grunts and pulls up to another gated driveway and presses the next button on the panel. "Now you know where I live."

You hum in content. His house is beautiful, the lawn is meticulous and clearly he takes pride in every aspect of maintaining his home. "It's a beautiful house.”

"It's secure." Despite the fact that Dave took pride in maintaining the type of home he had always dreamed of when he was a boy, the security was the most important thing. It takes some doing to get to him. The car pulls up into the garage and he cuts the engine after closing the door behind it. "Let's go inside."

You climb out of his car and follow him into his house. It's just as meticulous inside and as it is outside. "You have a beautiful home Dave. What's for lunch?"

"French onion soup and grilled cheese sandwiches." It doesn't sound fancy but he learned it from the girl he had been sleeping with when he was in France and he would never eat it a different way. The soup was already made, he had done that last night and it would be quick and easy to reheat it and make the sandwiches. 

"That sounds incredible," you say as you take a seat, "Never pegged you as a cook." You look around the room and note that lack of personal touches, no photos, nothing to indicate a wife or kids. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"When would I have time for a girlfriend?" He asks, striding over to the fridge to start pulling out the necessary ingredients. "I'm with you, and when I'm not with you, I'm reading reports that says I need to spend more time with you"

You hum in response, "Does that bother you?" You ask as he hands you a glass of water. "You must get... frustrated."

"I get frustrated when you are mouthy and obstinate. Not caring about your own safety." Dave grunts, removing his jacket and showcasing the double pistols under each arm from the holsters he wears.

"Fuck," you say out loud. "Is that really necessary?" You try to ignore the way your clit begs for some attention at the sight of his broad shoulders stretching the material of his shirt.

"What? You want perverts grabbing you and trying to kiss you?" He asks, lifting a brow. He knows you don't know about the stalker so he keeps it generalized. "Rooting through your trash can for your used tampons?"

"I don't think anyone's rooting through my garbage." you say with a shocked giggle. "I appreciate that you care... about the job that is.”

"That's because I had them change the procedures." It's shocking how much was being kept from you, but that was his job as well.

"What procedures?" You ask before taking a sip of water. And taking another glance around the room. 

Dave sighs slightly. "All your...intimate trash is either taken off property and disposed of, or incinerated. Personnel are monitored to make sure that they aren't taking items and selling them."

"Oh." You take another small sip of your water, your throat feeling extremely dry all of a sudden and then you raise an eyebrow, "What else are you keeping from me?"

"Do you really want to know all the details of your tour, princess?" He asks sarcastically as he spoons soup into bowls and shakes his head. "No, you don't." He answers for you.

"No wonder my Dad wanted to hire you," you murmur under your breath, "Two peas in a goddamn pod." You're pissed but you can't ignore the way your stomach growls at the smell of the soup, you can't remember the last time you had a meal that wasn't green and crunchy.

"I'm more dangerous than your father." Dave tells you simply as he slices a loaf of sourdough so he can make the sandwiches.

You scoff loudly and roll your eyes at him, "Right."

"Think what you want, princess." He huffs. "I doubt your father has a body count."

"A body count?" You ask with a confused look in your eyes, "What's yours?"

Dave turns around and levels a bland look at you. "I've killed more men than you'd want to know, princess."

"When you were in the military?" You ask. Surprising yourself at how calm you are after his shocking admission.

"Before I started protecting wealthy celebrities." He chuckles. "Pays better."

"Mhmm," you hum back, "Can't imagine protecting 'spoiled princesses' gives you the same thrill though." Your fingertip coats around the rim of your water glass as you watch him finish up the grilled cheese sandwiches. "Tell me something else about you."

Dave snorts and rolls his eyes. "Less people shooting at me." He offers dryly. "Well, you know I've killed people, I cook, what else do you want to know?" He tilts his head curiously. 

You giggle at him. The serious expression paired with the adorable head tilt makes your insides heat up, "I don't know. What do you like to do when you're not working?"

"I don't have much free time." He's with you nearly twenty hours out of the day and only had a few days off a month. "A lot of the time is spent in bed."

"Oh," you mumble. You know you're pushing it, and you know he's likely to completely ignore your question or scold you for being so invasive but the question slips out before you have time to stop it, "Not just sleeping I suppose?"

Dave snorts and shakes his head. "When would I have time to find someone to fuck, princess? I can't just pick someone out like you can." He growls, unhappy with the lackluster choices in men you've paraded through your bedroom. Discreetly, of course, so daddy wouldn't find out.

Your laugh loudly at that, "Like it would take much. I can't imagine you're short of offers," you hate the twang of jealousy that you feel at the thought of anyone throwing themselves at him. "You probably walk into a bar and before you can sit there are multiple women begging you to take them home.”

"I don't go to bars." Dave knows what you're trying to ask, but he just keeps on avoiding telling you what you want to know. Enjoying the increasing look of frustration on your lips.

"Okay, so you use hook up apps?" You ask. Intent on not letting this go.

"Hell no," Dave snorts, shaking his head. "I don't fucking use those things, they invite trouble."

"Bullshit," you snort, "You're telling me you're not inviting a new lucky lady into your bed every night?"

"Why?" Dave smirks at you in the most condescending way possible. "Is the princess jealous?" He laughs, shaking his head. 

"Curious. Not jealous," you say ignoring the heat rising in your cheeks. "So, you're what celibate?"

"Not celibate." Dave turns back to his sandwiches and flips them over in the pan. "I do alright when I want to.

"Anyone I know?" You ask, unable to hide the jealousy in your voice.

"Miranda makes it easy enough to get together when we need to release a little steam." Dave shrugs and doesn't even look over at you. He knows your face will be a sight but he wants to see what you say about him fucking your tour assistant. She was a beautiful woman and knew that it was just sex, so it worked.

You're pretty sure he saw the exact moment your heart stopped. "Miranda?" you croak out. "Wow. I guess you do make an attractive couple.”

"Couple." Dave scoffs. "No, we aren't a couple. We just fuck. Scratch each other's itches."

"Why her?"

"Convenience." Dave looks over at you and notes how you look like you're going to cry. "She wanted to cum and so did I, so it works when we want it to."

"So what? If someone wants to cum you'll provide that service as well? Or is it just my assistants that you feel the need to fuck?" Jealousy drips from every word spilling from your mouth.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Dave asks mockingly. "Someone's feeling neglected?" He knows you have a weird attraction to him despite hating his guts.

"Nope," you spit back completely unconvincingly, "Just interesting to find out what I'm paying you both to do."

Dave chuckles. "We fuck off the clock, princess. I don't steal time from you." It's laughable since he's not an hourly employee.

"Whatever," you mumble with a shrug. Annoyed with yourself for being so affected by this. He's made it clear that he doesn't have any desire to fuck you and you chide yourself for letting it bother you so much.

Dave snorts and just hums as he pulls the sandwiches off the heat and starts to plate them up. The last thing to do is melt the cheese on the soup and it will be done.

You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, ignoring the list of missed calls from your Dad and your PR team. You scroll through your unread messages and your fingers linger over an unopened text chain from a guy who you were briefly seeing, Chad, and you consider asking him if he's free to hook up later than afternoon. 

Needing to blow off some steam and try to rid yourself of the jealousy that has made itself home in the pit of your stomach. You're pulled out of your thoughts by Dave calling your name.

"Come eat." Dave slides the plate and bowl in front of the stool at the island.

"Smells good," you say before digging in. "Oh wow," you say with a moan after taking a large bite, "This is phenomenal."

Dave smirks slightly and stands across from you. "Of course it is." He murmurs, even though your praise makes his heart quicken.

"Holy fuck," you moan as you taste the soup. You're so used to eating the same thing pretty much everyday that you have to internally remind yourself to slow down. "This might be the most delicious thing I've ever had in my mouth."

Dave smirks and doesn't say what he is thinking. He can offer you something better, but he just hums and nods as he dips his sandwich in his soup. 

You stir your soup a few times before looking up at him. "Why not me?" you ask before dropping your spoon, "Why don't you want to fuck me?"

That makes him pause for a moment, staring at you and waiting for you to laugh. When you don't, he tilts his head and instead of answering you, he asks his own question. "Why would you want me to fuck you? I'm an asshole."

"Wasn't it you who recently said that all the guys I fuck are assholes?" you reply with a smirk. "You don't find me attractive?"

Dave grunts, knowing this is getting into dangerous territory. If you know how sexy he finds you, you will try to manipulate him, so his answer is just a shrug of his shoulders. "You wear too much fucking makeup."

"I can take it off," you say, looking directly in his eyes. "I can take anything you want off."

"Are you that desperate for a good fucking, princess?" Dave taunts. "You'd be a good girl and so anything I'd say so l'd fuck you?"

You feel conflicted. Your clit pulses with need from his words, but he's clearly mocking you. "You're a fucking asshole, Dave." The urge to get up and storm away from the table grows steadier but you refuse to give. Instead your eyes burn into his as you await whatever taunt he has next.

"I am a fucking asshole." Dave's grin is smug and cocksure as he leans in closer. "But obviously you like an asshole and I'm a bigger one than any of the little pussies you fuck." He shakes his head. "You let fucking losers touch you."

"Go fuck yourself," you spit back at him. Hating the way your body betrays you and despite his words being cruel they make you drip with arousal. "You know what... I'm pretty sure I heard Miranda talking about some limp dicked asshole she fucked once, I wonder who that could have been." You lie, wanting to piss him off in return.

Emotion slides off his face and his eyes flash with anger before they go carefully blank. You're trying to rile him up and you’re doing a good job. "Good thing she begs for my cock every chance she gets." He sneers. "Believe me, you'd feel my dick for days.

"I'm sure she does," you say with a roll of your eyes, knowing how much it pisses him off when you do so. You scoff loudly at him, "Is that what you tell yourself after you give whatever poor soul that finds its way into your bed a shitty orgasm?"

Dave growls for a second before he shakes his head. He knows you are trying to taunt him and it's working. "Keep it up, princess." He warns, jaw rocking in anger.

The growl he makes goes straight to your throbbing pussy, and despite the look on his face that tells you he's not playing with you, you can't help but throw out another jab, "How old are you now, Mr. York? Are you able to keep it up?"

It's the desire to shut your smart mouth that makes him snap. Coming around the island before you can react and grabbing your arms. "You want to find out, princess? I'll make that voice of yours raspy and hoarse for your next show."

"Fuck," you moan as he presses you up against the table. "Yes... Fuck, yes. Show me." you half whimper half plead as his body boxes you in.

This should be the point where he pulls back. Rejects the idea as impossible and takes you back to your people to rail about him being ridiculous and overbearing. But he doesn't.

Not when he sees the naked need in your eyes. Instead, Dave crushes his mouth against yours in a kiss designed to punish both of you.

The kiss is almost bruising, his hand twists around your hair as the other one possessively digs into your waist. He swallows every moan that you let slip into his mouth as his tongue battles yours from dominance. It's too much but not enough at once. You've never been kissed like this before and the only thought you're able to pull together is that you never want it to end.

He likes that you are still fighting him. Even if it's the stroke of your tongue against his. Demanding more of him, and pushing him. Growling into your mouth, Dave slides his hand around your hip and plunges it inside your stupid sweats that you are wearing and into your panties to find you hot and already wet.

You whimper into his mouth as he slides a finger into your slit, seemingly avoiding your bundle of nerves on purpose. "Fuck me," you murmur against his lips before reaching up to start undoing the buttons of his shirt.

His chuckle is dirty, leaning in and nipping the skin behind your ear to make you shiver as he slides his finger back to tease your entrance. "Maybe I can keep it up." He huffs in your ear right before he sinks his finger into your tight cunt.

You almost scream his name as one of his thick fingers pushes inside of you. "Fuck," you manage choke out as he curls it up inside of you. You're pretty sure it must be hurting him with how deep your fingernails dig into his arms, desperately grabbing onto him as your legs threaten to give way beneath you.

He chuckles and hums his approval for how vividly you react to him. "You want to go into the bedroom, princess? Stretch out on my bed and let me have you?"

"Yes, please," you mumble as your face nuzzles into his chest. "Ne-need you to fuck me."

He gives a dirty chuckle and pulls his finger out of you, enjoying the way you whine and your hips chase his hand. He doesn't guide you to the bedroom, instead he scoops you up and tosses you over his shoulder like a heathen claiming his prize.

You yelp at the man as he manhandles you, taking the stairs with ease before laying you down on his large plush bed. Something tells you that you should wait for him to give your permission to speak in here, so you look up at him all wide eyed and patiently, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.

"Why don't you put those stage moves to use? Strip for me." Dave growls, wishing you didn't have that fucking makeup on, but he's not going to make you wash it off right now.

"You want a show, Sir?" you tease, as you move to kneel on the bed. You slowly reach for the bottom of your shirt and inch it up slowly.

"You gonna tease me, or strip off so I can fuck you?" You've already started unbuttoning his shirt so Dave finishes it, shrugging out of the jacket and shucking the shoulder holster for his guns.

"Both," you reply petulantly before pulling your shirt the rest of the way off, and sliding off your bottoms. "I want you to taste me.

"Fucking brat." Dave growls, shaking his head as he peels off his shirt. Always trying to dictate things. "Taste you." He sneers. "You mean lick your cunt? Eat your pussy? Tongue fuck you?"

"Aw, have I struck a nerve? Does Daddy not like being told what to do?" You ask with an exaggerated pout, "Yes, Dave. I want you to lick my pussy."

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. "Bet none of those pussies actually made you cum, did they?" He challenges.

"All of this talk, Dave," you tut, "Yet you're doing nothing to prove you're any better."

"I’ll gag you." He threatens, even as he's kicking off his shoes and reaching for his belt.

"Bullshit," you counter back, "You wanna see if you make me scream your name too badly for that." You remove your bra and slowly remove your panties, making extra effort to bare yourself to him. Before laying back and spreading your legs for him. "Hurry. Up.” 

"Keep it up and you'll not even cum." He growls. "I'll fuck your throat and blow my load all over that pretty face of yours.”

"Doubt I'll cum anyway." You know you shouldn't keep pushing him, but you can't help yourself. "Sounds like that's not the first time you've thought about doing that, Dave. Would you want me to eat it or just lay there covered in your cum?"

"Eat it." Dave grunts, pushing his pants and boxers down in one swoop. "If you were just wearing it, I'd want to take a picture of it. And that can't happen."

"Oh wow," you gasp at the sight of him, and you don't need to look at his face to know he's wearing the smuggest smile right now. "I'd let you take a photo." You admit quietly whilst biting down on your bottom lip. 

"Never let anyone take a picture of you like that, princess." He growls as he stalks over to the bed. "Not even me.”

"I wouldn't let anyone else, but I'm just saying that I'd trust you. Are you going to touch me now?"

"Brat." He kneels on the bed and slaps your inner thigh before grabbing your ankle to drag you closer to him, instead of lowering himself to the bed, he is pulling your legs up over his shoulder to bring your cunt to his mouth.

Your hands scramble to find purchase on the bed as he lifts your hips up towards him, "Dave," you moan as he breath coats your inner thigh, "Please." The second his tongue licks a wide stripe through your folds, you start to lose it, chanting his name over and over and he dives into you like a man dying of thirst.

There's never a civilized way to eat pussy and Dave doesn't even try to pretend there is. His sole goal is to make you eat your words and make sure you never forget when he touched you. Sucking your clit into his mouth while he reaches down and slaps one of your tits.

"Don't stop," you plead as he does something magical to your clit, you whimper at the sharp stinging on your breast but you want to beg him to do it more. You brokenly sob out a pitiful 'please' as he brings you closer to your high. 

Dave doesn't acknowledge you beyond a grunt. Doubling down on the flicks of his tongue and watching you. This can only happen once and he isn't going to deny himself seeing you shatter for him.

"I’ve wanted this so bad," you croak out before everything goes black. Pleasure ripping through your body as his arm tightens around you to keep you still, his tongue continuing its delicious assault on your bundle of nerves as you're reduced to a whimpering mess.

Your choked cry of pleasure is loud, ringing out and he groans against your clit. Slowing his tongue down and working you through the buckling of your hips with the most profound sense of smug pride that he could have. Watching your face as it rapidly cycles through expressions as you cum.

Slowly everything starts coming back into focus, your thighs still shaking from the way he just completely shattered with your earth. "Oh, that was... wow." You say with a giggle. 

"Thought you said I wouldn't make you cum?" Dave huffs with a smirk on his face.

You want to hit him back with a witty retort but it dies on your tongue, instead you push yourself up when he drops your hips and smash your lips to his. Moaning at the taste of you still clinging to his lips.

It's a little too easy to wrap his arms around you and kiss you. Letting you set the tone of this one as he holds you. Dave grunts and he cups the back of your head and pushes his tongue into your mouth just like he had to your cunt.

You moan into his mouth and sink your fingernails into his shoulder blades pulling him closer to you. His cock throbs against your stomach as you bite down on his bottom lip.

"Fuck me," you whisper against his lips, trying to ignore the way your heart is fluttering in your chest. The way you're unable to stop looking into his eyes already tells you that you're fucked, but you ignore that feeling and concentrate on just feeling him. 

Humming, Dave pulls away from you. Watching you for a moment before he nods and pushes you back down onto the bed. Climbing over you to straddle your waist and he looks down at you with his cock pressing against your stomach. "Beg me." He orders, smirking at you. "I want to hear you beg me to fuck you."

It's unbelievable to you how quickly you're at his mercy, the urge to please him outweighing the urge to challenge him and so with absolutely no fight you're like putty in his hands. "Please, Dave," you whisper, staring up at him through your fluttering lashes, "Please fuck me. Fuck. You can do whatever you want to me, be as rough as you need. Use me however you want. Please. Please fuck me. I need to feel you. I.... I need you. Please."

Reaching down, Dave squeezes your breast before he starts to circle your nipple with his finger. Flicking it over the peaked tip and making you moan. "You look good like this, princess." He shuffles back and pulls your thighs out from under him to wrap around his waist.

The noises he so easily plucks from you fill the room, as you continue to be entirely at his mercy. "Yeah?" you ask, keening at his praise, "You like me spread out naked in your bed, huh, Mr. York?"

"What do you think?" He takes his cock and grips it tightly while he slides it through your folds, teasing you with it. Making sure he presses against your clit as he wets himself with your cum.

"I hope so," you reply as he makes you hiss. Your clit is still pulsing and a little overstimulated from your orgasm. "You gonna make me beg some more or are you going to push that big fat cock inside my pussy, sir?"

Dave chuckles at the quick way you try to push him to fuck you. Debating on drawing it out, he decides against it. Instead, he lines up and rather than sinking in slowly, he snaps his hips forward and splits you open in the space of a heartbeat.

The scream of pleasure that falls from your lips as he fills you to the hilt is sinful. It's overwhelming, the thickness of him is something you've never experienced. Even the few toys you've experimented with haven't been as girthy as his cock, and it takes a few moments for your pussy to adjust to the size of him. You whimper as he grits something about how 'he knows it's a lot to take,' as you involuntarily clench down around him. You give him the signal to start moving after pressing your lips to his collarbone.

He grunts as he pulls his hips back, feeling the way your walls drag against his cock and you are possibly the tightest cunt he's ever fucked. He knows he hurt you, his cock is thick, but you're squirming under him and wanting more. "Such a little whore." He chuckles darkly, looking down and watching your lips spread wide as he moves. "Want me to wreck you? Make it hard to sit down, princess?"

You simply nod your head, unable to form a coherent sentence as he continues to stretch you out. You feel completely overwhelmed by him but in the best possible way. "Please, Dave," you beg as he notches against something incredible inside of you.

It makes him grin when he sits up so he can push your legs back. Change the angle even more plus it gives him the distance to keep from kissing you the entire time. Your fingers dig into his arms and he hums. "Hang on."

You feel a little disappointed that his lips are no longer hovering over yours, but the feeling is fleeting as it's replaced by something extraordinary. The angle of his cock rubbing up something inside of you that you weren't aware existed.

Every thrust pushes you further into the mattress, pushing you up the bed as he snaps his hips forward with a single determined goal, making you scream his name.

The room is filled with the sound of your moans and whimpers, "Please," you mumble over and over, not sure what you're pleading for but being unable to stop. You've never cum without clitoral stimulation before now, but the way his cock drags against nirvana inside of you has you threatening to fall over that cliff at any moment.

He grunts, shifting. his hips and he reaches down between the two of you. Rubbing your clit goes against what he wants to do, but he's overheard you talking enough that he knows it's what you need. "Fuck- fuck you keep squeezing me." He pants out, his thumb rubbing hard circles around your bundle of nerves. "You're gonna soak me. You know you wanna."

The added addition of his thumb on your pulsing clit makes you shiver with anticipation, your orgasm is already teetering and you know you're about to be thrown over the edge. "Kiss me," you plead and he simply shakes head no and increases the pace of his thrusts, his thumb doubling down on its efforts as you start to come undone beneath him. Your pussy clamps down around him hard and you scream his name as you cum, flooding his cock and soaking him as he demanded.

You have gotten to him. He's broken his own self imposed rules of never getting too close to the client. He was supposed to care about your safety, your well being. Not give a shit about your orgasms, or the way you look when you cum. He bares his teeth and takes it out on you. Speeding up and making sure that his thrusts are punching the head of his cock against the spongy cervix deep inside your cunt as he tries to fuck away the realization that he's in too deep.

He pounds relentlessly into you, chasing his own orgasm as he mindlessly starts to build another up for you. Every drag of his cock makes your legs tremble more and more. You never want him to stop and you want to feel him buried deep inside of you whenever he needs relief. "Fill me up," you plead as your third orgasm washes over you. It takes you both by surprise as you clamp down hard around his throbbing cock. As he continues to thrust into you the realization that he may have ruined all other men for you hits you like a tonne of bricks.

"Can't." Dave growls out, twitching at the idea of filling you up and the next swing of his hips nearly makes him cum, but he can't risk getting you pregnant. He would ruin you and he can't do that. "You- it's too- too risky."

"IUD," you whine in response, "Wanna feel all of you."

That does it for Dave, the sound of need rumbling in his chest as he flattens himself over your body and drills his cock as deep as he can work himself. Watching you as he starts to pump you full of his cum with a groan of your name.

"Holy shit," you pant as he fills you up, "That was... you're incredible." You giggle. He stills inside of you and you think you'd be content to stay here in this moment forever. You want to ask him to kiss you again but you don't, instead you just look up at him and bask in the afterglow. "No one has ever made me cum before," you admit with another giggle. "I thought I'd just have to rely on my vibrator forever."

He throbs inside you for another moment before he chuckles and starts to pull out of you. "Then you have been fucking the wrong boys." He groans at the sight of his cum leaking out of your cunt, taken by it. Wanting to push it back into your cunt and keep it there with his fingers until he realizes that he can't do this again. Shuffling back and standing, he runs his hand through his hair. "Use the bathroom or whatever you need, I'll get ready to take you back."

"Oh, okay," you reply, feeling your face fall at how quickly he moves away from you. You push yourself up off the bed and scramble around looking for your clothes. You pick up your sweatpants, bra and t-shirt and make your way into the bathroom. Once in the bathroom you clean yourself up and start to get dressed. Realizing that you left your panties somewhere in his room but deciding not to bother him as he clearly wants you out of his house. So you pull on your sweatpants, bra and t-shirt and make your way downstairs to find him. Forgetting about your discarded panties in the process.

Downstairs, Dave sighs, redressed in some clothes from the dryer and mentally trying to put back up the barriers between you and him. He needed to be objective, not emotional and he had realized while he was fucking you that you've gotten under his skin. You are his client, not his girlfriend.

"Hey," you mumble as you enter the kitchen and see him standing there waiting for you. "Did I do something wrong?" you ask before slipping on your shoes. He barely glances over at you as you do so.

"No." Dave continues to clean up the kitchen and load the dishwasher. "Are you ready, princess?" He asks, closing the door to the machine and turning around to look over at you. "We need to get you back."

"Yeah," you say quietly, "I'm ready." You pick your phone up from his kitchen table and follow him out to the car. Climbing into the passenger seat and waiting for his incoming speech about how it's safer for you to be in the back but it doesn't come. He doesn't glance over in your direction, he simply switches on the ignition and waits for you to click on your seatbelt and starts to drive away. 

The drive back is quiet. He doesn't look over at you but he feels your eyes on him every few seconds. Refusing to start a conversation with you when you clearly want to. It's better this way, especially since this cannot happen again.

Your fingernails dig into the meat of your arm as you glance over at him, unable to stop yourself from trying to gauge what he's thinking. His demeanor is stiff and you can feel tension flooding the air but you can't bring yourself to say anything to diffuse it. Deciding that you'll wait to see if he speaks first.

Once he has pulled up, Dave puts the SUV in park and cuts the engine. Getting out of the driver's side, he walks around the car to open your door, staying silent as he waits for you to start pitching a fit or yelling at him.

"Thanks," you murmur with a fleeting but polite smile before walking past him. The second you open that door you know you're in for a world of hurt so you take a large inhale before twisting the doorknob.

"Where the hell have you been?" Your father booms at you before both of your feet are in the door. 

"Avoiding this," you say with a small gesture of your hand, "I'm not going to argue with you. And before you mention it... that photographer was a fucking creep." You walk past your father and your tutting PR manager and up the stairs.Listening to the cruel taunts your father bellows at you and leaving Dave to deal with the fall out. 

"Before you say anything, the asshole you chose to photograph her was pawing her." Dave growls, scowling at your father. "It was disgusting."

You close the door behind you. You don't want to deal with this right now, you just want to get into your comfiest pajamas, so you do just that. Before climbing into bed and thinking about today, thinking about how his lips felt as he crashed them against yours. Since the drive home your pussy has started to ache from the way he fucked into you. You close your eyes and focus on the way you can still feel him.

"Do you know how long it took me to land that photographer?" Your father demands, puffing up his chest and looking at Dave in annoyance. As if the man thought he could actually intimidate Dave."Who fucking cares?" Dave hisses. "The contract you signed states that I have complete control over your daughter's safety and that includes killing any sessions or events that I see fit." He reminds him. "I think her being assaulted by a fucking man who couldn't keep his fucking hands to himself posed a threat to her safety. Or would you rather there be a story about how her manager and father wouldn't protect her from sexual assault because the photographer was popular?" Dave wasn't above leaking a story for you, another clue that he was too involved with you. 

You can hear Dave's voice echoing through the house. His words are muffled but you're confident that he's standing his ground and sticking up for you. Lack of sleep and the events of today catches up on you and you let yourself drift off into a comfortable nap.

Dave watches as your father turns around a strides off, unhappy with his decision but there wasn't a hell of a lot he could do about it. Not if he wanted to keep Dave protecting you and he knows he can't change your security. Not with the threats that he has been keeping from you. 

Instead of going to his office, he climbs the stairs to see what you are doing. Opening the door to your bedroom, he finds you asleep sprawled over your bed and he huffs. Smirking with pride at wearing you out, he walks over and picks up your throw blanket and covers you up. Watching you sleep for a moment before turning around and walking out. He can't have another lapse in judgment, not when your safety was in jeopardy. 

*

It's been three days. Three days since the disastrous photoshoot and three days since Dave. You weren't sure what to expect from him afterwards, not that you were expecting anything, but the way he's clearly avoiding and ignoring you makes your heart drop. You've seen him a handful of times, using finding an excuse to dip out of the room or watching him start a conversation with someone else. You sent him three texts and all three have gone unanswered. This morning you walked into your living room and he glanced over at you before making his way across the room to Miranda and your stylist Luna. All three of them then disappear from the room as you stand there awkwardly.

"Before she uses anything, you verify where it comes from." Dave has gotten more letters and the results from the lab have him on edge. There have been traces of poisons on the paper but they can't tell if it was from the sender or something that had been contaminated in transit. There was even something off about the postal marks. That was still being investigated.

"Every bottle of water, every coke. If it doesn't come from us, she doesn't get it." He glances between the two of them. "Luna....you need to make sure that no one has access to your supplies."

Eventually the three of them emerge from the room and Luna gestured for you to follow her upstairs. You were briefly appearing on some tv show via video link and she was there to get you all glammed up.

Dave doesn't watch you as you climb the stairs but he does grab ahold of Miranda's arm when she moves to follow. Holding her back until everyone is out of earshot. "Hey." He frowns slightly. "Tonight. Get a drink with me?" He asks, watching as the pretty woman breaks into a happy smile. She wouldn't if she knew that he is planning on telling her that he's not sleeping with her anymore. "What do you say?"

You make a deal to ask Luna to go light with the makeup. No smoky eye or bold lip today. Wanting to keep it light and natural. She works her magic with your hair and uses minimal makeup, only enhancing your natural beauty and glow. Just as she's finishing up your door swings open and Miranda comes bouncing in.

"Hey babe," she greets you with, before turning all her attention to Luna, "You remember that guy I told you about, the one I've been kind of seeing for a little while? He asked me out tonight." She gushes with a wide smile plastered across her face.

"That's great," Luna gushes back before going off on some excited rant about how she should wear some off the shoulder dress that some magazine had lent to you, because they'd never notice that it went missing for just one night.

You feel tears spring up in your eyes, acid rain threatening to spill down your cheeks and you bite down onto your lower lip to avoid them breaking free. Luna and Miranda are too busy excitedly chatting about her upcoming date to notice how quiet you are.

You slink out of the makeup chair and pull the outfit set out for you from the hanger and make your way into the bathroom to get changed. "Fuck him," you mutter to yourself as you look in the mirror, he'd only touched you once but you were hooked. Never in your life had you felt more comfortable, safer and more alive than you did in those moments that he made you his and you hate yourself for losing yourself in him so quickly.

Dave strides back to the office and closes the door. He's tried to stay away from you, afraid that he will reveal too much. This has gotten complicated and if there's one thing he knows is that complicated gets messy. Pretending to ignore your hurt eyes has given him problems and he's picking up his phone. "Resnick." He greets the other man as soon as he picks up. "Need you to watch the princess tonight." He grunts, looking down at his calendar. "Need to take care of something and she's gonna be here all night. Easy work."

The interview goes by smoothly, the late night host asking you a few questions about your upcoming tour and your plans for once it's finished. He teases you about your plans for a much needed break after it's finished and he reminds you that the last time you said that you'd dropped a surprise album.

It's early evening once you'd recorded your segment for the show airing later that night. You have a few texts from friends saying they're meeting up at a bar tonight and how you should come.

After realizing that Dave will be too occupied on his date, you text back one of your friends for the address of the bar and say you'll swing by after escaping your babysitters. You see the rack of loaned dresses still untouched from earlier and run your fingers across a few of them, settling on a short black backless number and tucking it under your arms before heading back upstairs.

Dave represses a sigh when he sees that Miranda has obviously taken pains with her appearance tonight. He recognizes the dress as one that had been brought in to loan to you, but he doesn't know if you might not have encouraged her to take it. You knew that he was fucking your assistant and you might not care. Instead of frowning, he reaches for her and gives a tight smile. "I thought we could go to a bar." He offers, the real reasoning is that it would be public enough to prevent a scene, something Dave despises.

Once the coast is clear and you're happy that Resnick is too busy to notice you slipping out, you grab your keys from the drawer and make your way to your car. Slipping into the drivers seat for the first time in ages and punching the address to the bar into your GPS. Once out of your driveway, you switch on a playlist and drum your fingers against your steering wheel, singing along loudly as you navigate your way through the LA traffic.

Blissfully unaware of the car that's been trailing behind you since you left your gated community.

Almost 25 minutes later you're pulling up to the bar your friends are in and searching for a spot in the parking lot out the back.

You groan a little when you notice the only available spot is the furthest one from the bar. You pull in and switch the ignition off, taking a few minutes to look in the mirror and fix your hair.

You grab your phone and purse before stepping out of your car and locking the door, taking a few steps forward and almost crashing into a person emerging from the back of your car.

You start to apologize but he just stands there, staring at you with a smile splashed across your face that fills you with unease.

"Did you get my flowers?" He asks, taking a step towards you, "I'm a little upset that you haven't been writing back to me, but I know that you've been busy, sweetheart."

Your heart starts to slam in your chest as he takes another step towards you, you scan the parking lot for signs of another person but you're all alone with him.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" He asks with a frown, "It's me. It's Martin. I know you've been reading my letters. I hand deliver them to your mailbox everyday."

“I’m so glad that you invited me out." Miranda reaches out and touches Dave's arms, squirming on her high top seat at one of the last remaining tables in the bar. "I didn't think we would ever do this." The sex has been fantastic but it's only sex and she doesn't try to push for more since Dave isn't the type of man who is pushed around 

"Yeah." Dave's head is on a swivel, glancing around the bar as they both wait for the drinks that had been ordered. Frowning slightly at the rowdy group of people in the back corner. 

You remember the one thing Dave warned you to do if you ever found yourself in a situation like this. 'Do NOT panic. Try to remain level headed.' You take a small inhale and plaster a fake smile on your face, "Of course, Martin. Hi. How are you? The flowers, oh, they were beautiful. Thank you. What are you doing here?"

He tuts and takes another step towards you, "I saw you leaving, sweetheart, wanted to see where you were going to in such a hurry. It's been so long since you left your house without that guy," he snarls and you realize he's talking about Dave. "It's been so hard to get close to you.”

A shiver runs through you as his words bounce off your goose-pimpled skin. "He's not here now," though he says with a creepy smile.

"We should go inside," you say as he continues to inch closer to you, "We should get a drink."

You don't want to go anywhere with him but you figure the second you're in the bar your friends will spot you and you can signal for some help but he just shakes his head "Oh, sweetheart, it's so loud in there. We have so much to talk about. So much to do.”

You breathe out a shaky exhale before an anxiety shiver rips through you. "Just a quick drink and maybe afterwards we can grab a bite," you suggest. Trying to remain calm as he starts to box you in.

"I don't think so," he says before shaking his head, "We've been waiting so long to be together, angel, why would we waste our time with those losers in the bar. Don't think I don't know who's in there. I've seen their pathetic instagram stories... They're not your friends, they're using you... can't you see that?" He rants.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, but you don't look down at it. Instead you attempt to unlock the screen with your passcode. Keeping your eyes focused on Martin as not to draw attention to what you're doing. Your phone lightly vibrates a few times, letting you know that your attempt to unlock your phone had failed. You take another deep breath as he continues his unhinged rant and you enter it again. This time correctly.

Without looking down you tap the bottom left hand of your screen and pull up your call list, pressing one of the names at the bottom of the list knowing that Dave number occupies the majority of the list. 

His drink is wrong. How they could fuck up a whiskey on the rocks and give him a tequila and water, he will never understand but that isn't important. His hand curls around the drink and he leans forward as Miranda sips her. "Listen, there's a reason that I invited you out tonight..." He starts, huffing when the phone in his breast pocket starts to vibrate. 

"Of course." Her lashes flutter and Miranda looks positively smug. "You wanted to get laid again. Don't worry, you're getting lucky."

Dave ignores that and lets go of the drink to pull his phone out. Seeing your face pop up, he frowns, wondering why you are calling him. "Princess? What are -"

"-you got all my letters. What did you think?" Dave's eyes widen when he hears a voice that doesn't belong to you, sounding like it's several feet away and he can hear the background noise. Obviously not in the house.

His face snaps into a fierce scowl and the chair screeches against the hardwood floors as he stands. He can't shout to get your attention, you might just have the phone in a pocket. Instead he's placing you on speaker phone and immediately starts to pull up the tracking app he put on your phone as he looks at Miranda. "Call Resnick now." He orders her harshly. "Ask him where the fuck your boss is and why he isn't with her."

Your eyes continue to dart around the parking lot, searching for any sign of life as it becomes clear that you're not making it into the bar. You pray Dave has picked up the phone but you're unable to sneak a glance, terrified that Martin will notice and take your phone off of you so instead you ask him another question, something to placate him and keep him from trying anything. "Oh the flowers," you gasp, "Gosh, Martin, you are so thoughtful. How did you know they're my favorite?" You ask. Making an effort to emphasize his name.

"You told me, silly," he says with a laugh that makes you skin crawl, "On Fallon. You said that tulips were your favorite. I know a hint when I see one. Let's get out of here, sweetheart. We don't want the paparazzi getting sniff of you being in the area. I don't want you photographed dressed like that."

"Fuck...fuck...fuck!" Dave rages as he hears the comment about leaving. If it's Martin and he gets you into a car, Dave might never see you again. "Stall him, princess." He hisses, cursing the app for taking so goddamn long to pull up your location. Fucking cell service is shit downtown.

"Why don't you get in your car and I'll follow behind?" You suggest. Not wanting him to get in your car and definitely not wanting to get in his. "I don't wanna leave my car in the lot."

"Don't be stupid, sweetheart." Martin hisses, "We will take my car. The last thing I want to do is get stuck in some god awful LA traffic because you got turned around trying to follow me somewhere."

"I have GPS, I'll just punch in your address and if I lose you it's fine, I can just follow the navigation system.”

Come on Dave, you think to yourself, praying he's on the other end of the phone and/or coming to your rescue.

"But really I think we should go inside and get that drink before we go anywhere," you say again, desperate to hold off for as long as possible. But you see the impatience in his eyes, you see the way his eyes go dark as he realizes that you're stalling for something. For someone.

"I'm not an idiot, sweetheart," he snaps at you, "And neither are you. He will arrive any minute and take you away from me if we don't leave now and I know you don't want that. I hear the words you're singing to me in your songs and I can't bear to spend another night being kept away from you."

"Fucking finally." Dave growls, moving towards the door when he sees the dot pop up on the map. His eyes widen when he realizes that you are right here. In the parking lot. You are right in the fucking parking lot of the same goddamn bar he is in. He doesn't bother to say anything to Miranda, just shoving past people and running out the door as he listens to the increasingly agitated Martin start to scream at you.

Your stomach twists as you listen to the delusional words he's now screaming at you, occasionally quoting some of your own lyrics at you in between the unhinged ranting.

"Martin," you plead as he boxes you up against your car door, "We're friends, right?" you try to calm him down by saying but the sudden burst of rage that flashes in his eyes tells you that you've really fucked up.

You squeeze your eyes shut after his hand comes out and strikes you across your cheek. It's only after the immediate throbbing from the slap that you realize that you're crying. Tears streaming down your face as you attempt to placate him. You squeeze your eyes shut again and you let the one word that you've wanted to scream for the past ten minutes fall from your lips, "Dave."

The phone in Dave's hand falls to the ground but he doesn't even bother to pause. Too busy running towards the parking lot and he hears a sharp cry. Eyes narrowed as he spots you, a man pulling his hand back and Dave hisses.

"You fucking bitch! You're mine! You're mine, you're mine! You belong to me!" You cry out again when he brings his hand down, slapping you across the face as he screams at you.

Pushing his body to move faster, fury floods Dave’s veins and makes him scream out a yell as he barrels towards the attacker who is trying to hurt you. 

You whimper as you feel his hot breath coating your face as he moves closer and closer, screaming louder as he does so. You prepare yourself for another strike as he repeats over and over than you're his property, keeping your eyes squeezed shut the entire time.

Lowering his shoulder, Dave slams into the assailant like a freight train. Driving him to the ground and away from you in a burst of rage that has him immediately hammering his fist into Martin's sides as he pushes up off of him to get a better angle to beat the motherfucker to death.

It's over as quickly as it started. The sound of someone crashing into another, followed by a sharp cracking noise as a fist slams into a jaw. Shattering the bones at immediate contact. Your eyes briefly flicker open and close again at the sight of Dave. 

Safe. You think to yourself as you crumble to the concrete ground. The ringing in your eyes drowning out the sound of each blow Dave delivers to your attacker. You don't hear the sharp squeal of a car tire as Resnick, Ari and Kovak pull up in the parking lot. You don't hear Dave screaming in fury at them as they pull him away from Martin. You don't hear Miranda calling your name as she drops down to your side and gently caresses your throbbing cheek.

Dave's focus narrows to just the target. The ten inch by five inch oval that comprises Martin's face. Bloody now that he has hit him multiple times but he just keeps whaling on him, again and again and again despite the other man not fighting back. The image of your terrified eyes and the welts on your cheek that he had gotten a brief, split second glance are all he can imagine as he tries to inflict as much pain on your attacker as possible. Screaming and fighting when hands drag him away from his target. Lunging for him again and scrambling to shake off his team in his bloodlust to get back to the man who had dared to touch you.

You feel unfamiliar hands on you and you shudder before everything comes back into focus. Miranda. She's kneeling in front of you, your face resting in her hands as she checks out the painful welt throbbing on your cheek. 

It takes Dave well over a minute but he finally calms down enough that the team lets go of him. Jerking his shoulders free of their hold, Dave spit towards the prone man, "fucker." He hisses before he turns and rushes the few steps towards you and drops to his knees in front of where you are sprawled on the ground beside your car. "Move." He orders Miranda roughly, needing to see you are okay himself. 

"She's fine," you hear Miranda shoot back at him, still holding your face in her hands.

"Move." His voice is harder, more forceful and his own bloody fists push her hands out of his way. He wants to make sure of that himself and even then he will have a private doctor come and check you out.

"Dave," you mumble as he inches towards you, "I didn't... ! didn't listen to you. And I'm so sorry. All of this is my fault."

"Shhhhh shhhhhh it's okay. " He will yell at you later, when you aren't in shock. But for now, his hands are slow and gentle as he reaches for you. "You're okay. He's not going to hurt you."

"He's not going to hurt anyone." Resnick huffs, coming over to stand in front of you and Dave. "He's dead."

"Oh God," you squeak out, "He's dead because of me."

"He's dead because of himself." Dave tells you sternly, his dark eyes focused on you. He was the one who had killed Martin, and he would do it again. "He chose his own fate. He could have walked away. He died because he didn't."

You nod a few times just to acknowledge that you heard what he said, before a new stream of tears start to flood your cheeks, "I need to get out of here."

Dave can't leave. He’s killed a man. He will have to wait for the police so he looks up at Resnick. "Resnick is going to take you home." He tells you, starting to draw you up to your feet. "But don't shower. Don't do anything. The police will come and they will need to see you exactly as you are."

"Okay," you murmur, looking up at Dave. "Don't be long, please."

"I won't." He breaks, seeing the fear and sadness on your face. Leaning in and pressing his lips to your forehead briefly before he turns you over to his teammate and watches him escort you away to the waiting car.

You climb into the back of the car, knowing it'll give Dave a little peace. Resnick speeds out of the parking lot and towards your home. The journey passes in a blink of an eye and before you know it he's rounding the car and helping you out, leading you into the living room and onto the sofa. Before disappearing into the kitchen to grab you a bottle of water.

When the cops arrive, Dave answers their questions as succinctly as possible. The bar's cameras on the parking lot confirmed Dave's version of events and the team had scans of the threatening letters in the vehicle. It takes an hour to get the body loaded up and the crime scene photographed.

Dave tells them to follow him to your house so they can collect evidence from you and get your statement.

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur. The cops ask you a million questions, some over and over again as you're forced to replay the evening over and over. You feel drained, your face is throbbing and your hands haven't stopped shaking for hours.

Dave walks over to you about another hour of questions and breaks in. "That's enough." He tells them. "She's given you her statement, you can collect her clothes but we are done." He insists. "Any other questions should be directed through the legal team. She's been through enough tonight." 

It seems like eternity for them to leave. Even after Dave tries to hurry them up. Eventually you're ushered up the stairs by somebody as Dave answers the last few questions. Someone stands outside your bathroom as you pop your clothing into an evidence bag and pass it out to them through a slight crack in the door. Immediately closing it back up again and slipping into a much too hot shower. And letting the tears you'd been holding back fall freely.

Once the police have left, Dave sighs and locks the door and sets the alarm. He's sent everyone home and even had a short conversation with Miranda. It hadn't been pretty, but she hadn't really put up a fight after learning that Dave had killed Matin. Apparently the idea of a deadly man was more appealing than the reality. Trudging up the stairs, he opens the door to your bedroom and hears the shower going in your bathroom. You've held yourself together with nothing more than sheer determination and even though his hands are bruised and cut, bones obviously broken, Dave doesn't hesitate to start stripping outside of your bathroom and once he's naked he opens the bathroom door to join you.

You don't hear or see the bathroom door open. Your skin is sore from the way you've scrubbed it raw. Trying to remove every trace of this evening from your skin.

Opening the shower door, Dave steps into the shower and his heart aches when he sees you curled up on the bench. "Shit, come here, princess." He moves over to you quickly and scoops you up into his arms, taking your place on the bench and holding you in his lap.

You're not sure how long he holds you for, his voice gently soothing you as you sob brokenly into his neck. You feel him gently wash the conditioner out of your hair before lifting you up and out of the shower.

"It's okay." Dave murmurs, grateful that he's able to carry you instead of insisting that you need to walk on your own. The only time he lets you stand is as he dries you off. Gently rubbing the towel down your body and wrapping your hair for you. Picking you up again to carry you through to the bedroom and tuck you into bed.

"Stay with me?" You ask as he tucks you comfortably into your bed. "Please." You feel a twinge of guilt for asking, knowing that he had gone on a date with another woman a few hours before, ignoring the feeling that he doesn't want you.

“I’m not going anywhere." Dave promises, rounding the bed and climbing in beside you before he plasters himself to your back and wraps his arms around you to drag you closer to him. "I fucked up." He whispers into your hair. "I'm so sorry, princess. I didn't protect you."

"I ruined your date," you murmur into the pillow, placing your hand on top of his, "I got jealous and I fucked everything up." Tears spill out onto your pillow as you start to sob again.

It's news to Dave that the reason you were there was because you were jealous. He pulls you to him and turns you around so you are facing him. He doesn't care that both of you are naked, he's trying to comfort you. "You didn't ruin anything." He promises you, rubbing your back as you collapse against his chest to cry. "It's- it doesn't matter. Miranda knows now that I was ending our arrangement."

"I'm so sorry, Dave," you sob into his chest, wrapping your arms even tighter around him. "Promise me you won't leave, even once I've fallen asleep?"

"I'm going to be here, princess." Dave tightens his hold on you, just shy of squeezing the air out of your lungs. "I'm gonna be right here, I promise." He doesn't know how to soothe you, just rubs circles on your back and holds you tight, letting you sob out all your fear and anger and disappointment. 

Sleep comes quicker than you anticipated. The warmth of his skin seeping into yours as he holds you plush against him. You wake as the early morning light breaks through the crack in your curtains and beams down directly on your face. His gentle snores vibrate in your ear as you press a kiss to his shoulder. He kept his word. He didn't leave in the middle of the night as you feared. He looks peaceful, his usually tense shoulders slack and his brow not burrowed for a change. You slightly shift up and press a kiss on his lips, before nudging your nose against his.

"Hmmm." Dave frowns slightly and his hand slides up your back. "You're awake?" He mumbles sleepily, opening an eye and looking at you. He had anticipated that you would sleep for a lot longer but you look better. Your eyes have bags but you don't look like you are about to cry again.

"Mhmm-hmm," you hum across his lips before pressing another kiss down on them, "Your voice is sexier when you've just woken up.” Exhaustion still lingers in every bone in your body, your face still throbbing from the blows it took the night before but you feel safe. His arms still protectively caging you in from any harm and it makes your heart flutter.

He lets out a slightly rusty laugh, sliding his hand up and down your back protectively. "Because I haven't woken up enough to be an asshole yet."

You giggle back before pressing a third kiss to his mouth, still remaining cautious about the situation you're in but not wanting to ignore your need to touch him. "Dave," you quietly moan as you wrap your legs around his waist. 

"What do you need, princess?" Dave rasps out, his eyes opening again and focusing on you.

"You."

His cock twitches and his fingers dig into your hips. "How do you need me?" He growls out.

"However you want," you croak as he pushes the head of his already hard cock through your folds, "Just need to feel you."

You are sprawled on top of him and he shifts his hips, starting to fill you up as he pulls you down onto his cock. "This what you need? You need to sit on my cock?"

"Fuck, yes," you moan as you sink down onto him. He feels even bigger than last time from his angle, "I want to ride you, Mr. York." 

There's a moment where he watches you close your eyes and smirk. He slaps your thigh and pushes you down harder onto his cock. "Then ride me, Princess. Show me how needy you are for my cock."

"Yes, sir," you tease as you start to rock your hips. He's a lot more vocal in the morning and it makes you keen down around him. You find your rhythm after a few moments and slowly increase your pace, bouncing up and down on his cock as his fingertips dig into your hips, hard enough to leave little circular bruises.

"Good girl." He grunts, his hips starting to shift up to meet your pace. Making you bounce harder on his cock and enjoying the way that you clench around him.

  You grind down on him slowly after his praise, his words making your neglected clit pulse with need. You pull him into a fleeting but bruising kiss before you increase your pace again, dragging one of his hands up to one of your tits. "I want you to fill me up," you whisper as your hand grips the bottom of his chin, "Fill me up and then eat your cum out of my cunt, Dave."

He groans, grabbing your tits harshly and rocking his hips to flip you over. Losing control at the neediness in your tone. He leans in and bites down on your shoulder. "Hold onto the bed." He orders harshly.

You grip onto the bed ready to take what he's about to give you, you clench down around him as his teeth sink into you. "Make this tight little pussy soak that fat cock."

He already knows that your next concerts are going to be canceled. He's not going to allow you to perform until at least a week goes by. So he doesn't hesitate to bite you again a few inches over. Giving you a hard thrust of his hips as he slides back so he can put your legs on his shoulders.

"Marking me up?" You giggle before a particularly hard thrust knocks the wind out of you. His cock slamming against that spot inside of you that only he had managed to find and the room is echoing with a lust filled scream of his name. The position your in allowing him to fuck you even deeper than before and he continues to rut into you.

He doesn't give a fuck who hears, although there's no one in the fucking house. He would have gotten an alert on his phone. He knows it won't stay that way for long so he makes sure that his hips snap forward with a determination to make you shatter for him, watching you closely every time he rocks forward.

With every sharp snap of his hips you're being pushed closer and closer to that delicious edge and you know he can feel just how close you are. Your pussy flutters around his throbbing cock, sucking him back in every time he moves back. "Gonna cum," you garble incoherently as you start to fall apart beneath him.

Instead of slowing down, he rocking his hips faster. Hissing and grunting curses as he fucks you frantically. Loving how tight you get and how your legs go tight, just making him lean into you harder.

"Oh, fuck, Dave," you choke out as he fucks you harder and harder throughout your orgasm, ripping it from you with ease as you soak the sheets with your arousal. You clamp down on him hard as your body convulses with pleasure, every little sound that you're desperate to unleash getting trapped in your throat as the whole world goes black. And all you can feel is him.

He sees the moment where everything fades away. Where all you can do is feel nothing but pleasure. Groaning, he pushes deep one last time, reaching up and wrapping his hand around your throat, not to squeeze, instead he tilts your head up to press his mouth to yours as he pours himself into you.

“That may have been the best way I’ve ever woken up in my life,” you say honestly but with a giggle. Nudging your nose against his. “Thank you for staying.”

Dave gives himself another moment, kissing you again before he closes his eyes and starts to pull out of you gently, his fingers let go of your throat and caresses the skin softly as he opens his eyes and looks down at you. “I quit.” He announces, staring at the swelling on your cheek from where Martin had hit you. It’s gone down, but he can still see it. “I didn’t do my job, I didn’t protect you.” He shifts off of you and onto his back.

“Oh,” you utter, feeling the happiness that you’d been floating on fleeing your body and being replaced with hurt, “No. You can’t fucking… no. What is this? You regret this again? Just like you did last time? No. I won’t touch you again but you can’t quit.” You feel your eyes burn as tears spring into them, threatening to stain your already bruised cheeks. “I don’t want to feel unsafe.”

“I can’t do my job.” Dave hisses, hating the fact that he is making you cry. You have to see that he’s doing this for you. Sitting up, he cups your cheek, hating how it’s still swollen. “I did this. It’s because I had to have some clarity. To stop things with Miranda. I wasn’t with you. I should have been. But I wasn’t. Because I couldn’t keep sleeping with her when I wanted you.” He growls angrily.

“Bullshit,” you snarl back, pushing his hand from your face. “You want me? So the solution to that is to just leave me? Make it make fucking sense, Dave.”

“I-“ Dave’s breath shudders. “I was afraid.” He confesses softly. “Afraid I couldn’t get to you, afraid he would hurt you.” He closes his eyes. “I failed you, princess. Why would you want me here? You got hurt and it’s all my fault.”

  “Can you stop pretending like I’m not a grown woman?” You say with a scoff, “I made the decision to go out last night. Am I pissed that you didn’t warn me about him? Yes. I’m fucking furious. But you didn’t fail me. But if you walk out on me right now, you will fail me, Dave.”

“You would have frozen.” Dave argues. “Every fan that comes up, you would wonder if that’s him. Every time the doorbell rang. You would have become a wreck. It’s my job to protect you from that. To let you do your job and keep the monsters in the shadows.”

“And now you don’t want to do that job?”

“Why would you want me to keep doing the job I failed at?” Dave frowns, shaking his head. “You should scream at me, kick me out, tell me you hate me.”

“You didnt fail, Dave,” you scream back at him, “If you want to go, just fucking go, just don’t pretend it’s because of the job.”

Dave hisses, grabbing your arms and the only way he stops himself from yelling at you is by doing what he really wants to do. Kiss you. He kisses you roughly, every fucking fear and emotion he had last night pours into the kiss. Hard and unyielding until it isn’t. Until the softness breaks through and the other emotions show.

You attempt to fight him off for a few moments, your efforts futile and not convincing to either of you. Before giving in and sinking into his arms, letting his kiss consume you both emotionally and physically. “Please don’t go.” You whisper as he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m not.” Dave admits, shaken by the depths of his feelings for you. “I’m not going anywhere.” He looks into your eyes and sighs. “I could never leave you, princess. Never.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you murmur against his chest, terrified that he’s a flight risk. “Just please don’t push me away.”

“Princess, I love you.” He murmurs quietly. “I killed a man for touching you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes search his for any sort of sign that he’s not telling the truth, but the way they soften as the way he holds you tells you that he’s being honest. Your mouth crashes against his as his grip around you tightens, your kiss is possessive and messy and filled with hope. 

“I want to release a statement, tell the world what happened and then I want to take a much needed break. No touring right now.” Obviously some details will be left out but you want a brief statement out there. Something that’ll explain to your fans what happened, but keep the darkest side of how it ended hidden.

“Then that’s what you’ll do, princess.” Dave nods, knowing your label and your father will be furious, but he doesn’t give a shit. Your safety and well being is too important.

“Thank you for always being on my side. Even when you’re being an asshole.” You mumble into his neck.

He snorts and rubs your back gently, turning his head and kissing your hair. “I’ll always be on your side, Princess.” He promises softly. “That’s why I’m your bodyguard.”

**

Eventually, you had to get up and dress. Your entire team was going to descend on your house in a fury of questions and concerns. He had held them off for as long as he could but barely an hour after you had put on a pair of leggings and a sweater and Dave had put on his gym clothes, your father walked into the house, calling your name. “She’s in the kitchen!” Dave has you seated at the bar, drinking a coffee while he makes you breakfast.

“Hi,” you offer meekly to your father, whose face is twisted with fury. There is no concern for your well-being, no checking that you’re okay or asking about the night before. He just screams at you. Furious that you’d already posted a video on your social media account and gave as much detail as you could in regards to the night before and offered full refunds to everyone who had bought a ticket to the tour you had now indefinitely postponed. 

“What do you have to say about all of this?” He bellows at Dave after finishing his expletive filled rant and Dave just shrugs and makes a comment about it being your life before squeezing your shoulder gently.

After many failed attempts to placate him and explain what had happened the night before you simply shrug, and tell him to leave.

Dave is the one that herds him out the door, not even listening to the man as he screams that he hired Dave and he will sue him for breach of contract. He obviously didn’t read the contract, he can’t. Only you could fire him. When the door is closed, Dave shakes his head and turns around the walk back over to you, giving you what looks like a much needed hug. “It’s okay.” He promises again. “He can’t make you tour.”

“I know,” you murmur against his chest, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “Dave, he’s in control of all my finances. I need to figure so much out today.”

“So call in your business people.” Dave murmurs into your hair. “I can call in a lawyer I know. Have him look over everything.”

“I don’t know who to call,” you admit, feeling yourself get all heated from embarrassment, “I just got called into sign shit.”

Dave has participated in this, feeling guilty about it now. “He will treat you right. Get it all figured out.” He promises.

You take a step back from him and awkwardly giggle, “Guess you were right about me being a princess,” you try to joke to hide your embarrassment.

“You were concentrating on your music.” Dave argues. “Letting others take care of the details. I did it too.” He won’t deny that. “Now, you just need to decide how hands on you want to be.”

“Yeah,” you half heartedly agree with a shrug, “But mostly it just seemed easier to let other people deal with it.”

“So you still let other people deal with it.” Dave tells you. “Just have them answer to you.”

“Like you do?” You say with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk, “Clearly, I’m great at keeping you in line.”

Snorting, Dave shoots you an unamused look. “Just try it, Princess.” He warns darkly. “I’ll do exactly what I wanted to do the first time you pitched a fit.” He pauses for a second. “Throw you over my knee and spank you until you are crying.”

“Oh yeah?” You challenge him. “I think you’d do whatever I told you to do. No argument.”

“Not if it compromises your safety.” Dave will stand firm on that. Loving you will not make him just give in to you to make you happy.

You take a step forward and whisper in his ear, “So you’re telling me that if I said really nicely that you’re to wrap those thick fingers around my throat and rail me as hard as you can… you wouldn’t? Because you’re all for safety?”

“Shut up.” Dave hisses, narrowing his eyes at you as he pulls back. “You know what I meant, princess.” He growls. “Keep it up and won’t get my cock at all until I decide you can have it.”

“We both know that I’ll be getting it exactly when I want it, sweet boy.” You know you should be focusing on your never ending list of chores but teasing Dave is too much fun.

Dave doesn’t answer, instead he draws his hand back and slaps your ass harshly. “Go eat.” He demands. “I’ll start making calls.”

“Fine,” you mumble, knowing that he’ll want to get the ball rolling and that the ache in your pussy will have to wait. “I’ll eat and then deal with myself after.” You shout back to him as he makes his way to his office.

“No you won’t!” Dave shouts back, smirking to himself as he shakes his head. You are going to continue to be a pain in his ass, but he’s not quite as annoyed by it now.

You giggle as you take a bite of the eggs he cooked you. “Oh yes, I will,” you say to yourself as you think about the way his cock feels as it drags across heaven inside of you.

**

It had been a rough three weeks. Your father had dug his heels in and made everything as difficult as he possibly could. But Dave had kept his word, the lawyer he had put you in touch with had worked tirelessly and for the first time in your life, you were in charge of your future.

Your team had agreed that you were due a break, and agreed to let you take a few months to recharge. The minute it was final Dave had pulled out his phone and booked two one way tickets to St Lucia and found a private villa on the beach that had a chef come in three times a day to prepare your meals. He paid for everything, packed both of your bags and kept everything a total secret until you were pulling up to the private jet that would be flying you to paradise.

For the past three days that had been in heaven and he’d taken you more times than you could possibly count.

The first time on the flight with his fingers, then his mouth and finally with his cock.

“See Princess? Relaxed.” He groans, slowly rocking his hips up as you grind down on his length. Sitting outside in the warm sun, the breeze trailing over your skin, you look like a fucking goddess riding him on the surprisingly sturdy lounger by the infinity pool that overlooks the ocean. No boats were allowed in this private cove and you had free reign to do whatever you want. “Just like I promised you.”

“So relaxed,” you moan as you keep the pace slow. Loving the way he completely fills you up. Your walls hugging his cock as his thumb draws slow circles on your clit. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

He chuckles, hearing those words every time he fucks you. You’ve become addicted to him being inside you and he’s not complaining. Dave’s other hand comes up and squeezes your tit. “Even more relaxed when you cum.” He coos. “Lay out in the sun and nap after?”

“Oh God, yes,” you say as you press a kiss to his lips. “As long as I get to lay on you.” You slightly increase your speed, wanting your high to come quicker. Needing to feel the warmth of his cum coating your walls.

“You’re like a leech.” He jokes, squeezing your breast again and pinching your nipple. He knows as soon as you cum, you’re going to collapse against his chest and fall asleep with his cock still inside you. It’s become your favorite way to sleep since that second night he had spent in your bed. 

“And you love it,” you say with a giggle, knowing that he loves the way it feels when you giggle on his cock. “Make me cum, Mr York.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dave grunts as he leans in and nips your bottom lip. “Have to follow the princess’s order.” He lets go of your breast to grab your hip and braces his feet on the lounger slats to thrust up into you harder.

“Yes you do,” you giggle back. Your mouth captures his as he fucks up into you. You bite down on his bottom lip before licking your way into his mouth. He swallows every moan you unleash as you wrap your arms around him tighter, “I’m gonna cum,” you garble as he starts to lose restraint fucking you harder and harder as you come undone on his cock.

Watching you peak has become his favorite view. Watching your mouth open and your entire body spasm in pleasure while you cry out is what sends him over the edge himself. Letting you burrow your way deeper into his heart as he cums, filling you up with his cum until it’s pushing out with every shallow thrust to slide back down his shaft and pool in the curly hairs in his groin.

His lips press against yours as you come down from your high, and his hand rubs comforting circles into your back. The world comes back into focus and absolutely everything becomes clear, his dark eyes find yours before you rest your forehead against his. “I love you, Dave. I love you so much.”

It’s the first time you’ve said those words to him and he sighs softly, reaching up and cupping your cheek. “I love you too, Princess.” It’s only the second time he’s said the words, but he’s shown you how he feels everyday since that morning. “That’s why I’ll always protect you.”

“My protector,” you say against his lips. “Now, I think you promised me a nap.” You nuzzle your face against his neck and snuggle up to him. His softening cock still inside of you as you feel his protective arms wrap around you.

"That's right, princess." Dave rubs your back gently and leans back against the lounger as he brings you with him. Knowing that you will be asleep in minutes. "You sleep." He urges you softly. "I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you again." He promises, looking around even though he knows the two of you are completely alone. He's still your bodyguard after all.

#pedro pascal #dave york x you #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york equalizer 2 #dave york imagine #bodyguard au #reader insert

[mlmxreader]

New Kitchen | John Soap MacTavish x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "One day. That's all I wanted, one day of fucking peace and quiet" soap x m!reader, ft. the 141 and Shenanigans ™

summary: maybe it was a mistake to invite everybody over to help you and your boyfriend get the kitchen done.

tws: swearing

Everyone has come over to yours and Soap's home for the day, including Farah and Alex, as you had needed help getting your kitchen sorted; with the boiler busted, and the heating no longer working, you had decided that it was time to actually get your kitchen up and running and redecorated. But things had been put on pause for after you and Farah had had Dhuhr prayer, as nobody wanted to interrupt such a sacred moment for either of you; as soon as the prayer mats were put away upstairs so that they were safe and sound and would not get covered in dust once the work began, everyone cracked on with their little jobs.

Price focused on making new cupboard doors and fitting new hinges and handles, with help from Gaz. Farah and Ghost teamed up to fit the new doors and to also move around the various cupboards so that they were how you and Soap had wanted. König carried out all the broken pieces and tossed them into the skip outside, happily humming along to the songs playing in his earbuds. Alejandro and Rodolfo were in charge of cleaning up as the processes went on. Alex was in charge of making tea and coffee. Laswell was fitting the new boiler. But you and Soap had the worst jobs: the plumbing and the electric.

"One day. That's all I wanted, one day of fucking peace and quiet," you laughed softly. "And now we're fucking up our kitchen."

Soap shrugged as he looked at you, holding the pipe steady while you unfastened it. He wasn't allowed to do anything more, as the last time he had tried to do any plumbing, he had nearly broken his neck with the sink. "It was your idea, dafty."

You nodded, licking your lips ad you hummed softly. "Yeah, yeah, I know... I did say we should just bang it out, didn't I?"

"Aye, you did," he nodded. "But it's not too bad - just think, in a few weeks, we'll be sortin' our nikkah."

You spared a look at him, and grinned. "Don't fuck it up, Soap, please."

"Askin' him not to fuck up is like tellin' Alejandro not to play that fuckin' Lady Gaga song," Ghost grumbled, earning a glare from Alejandro.

"Am no gonna fuck it up," Soap huffed. "Or at least, I'm gonna try not to."

Ghost and Alejandro started to argue, prompting Rodolfo to get involved and to stand up for his comrade, which then cause Price to get involved to try and put a stop to it, only for Laswell to eventually shout and get them all to shut up for a moment; as he was only in charge of tea and coffee, Alex had gotten the speaker from upstairs - careful to avoid the prayer mats even though he didn't have a speck of dust on him - and brought it to the kitchen. He connected his phone to it, and when 'When the Seasons Change' by Five Finger Death Punch started to play, you dropped your spanner, and slapped Soap on the shoulder.

"Our song."

He listened for a moment, then nodded as he grinned; he got up, pulling you up with him as he hooked his arms around your neck and started to gently sway you from side to side with the tune. Burying his face against your neck, Soap hummed along quietly, closing his eyes and grinning when you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist. For a moment, there was actually a little bit of peace and quiet, as except for König, who had been too distracted by the music playing in his earphones and kept on doing his job, everyone had stopped to watch you and Soap for a moment.

Despite their teasing, they really were happy for you, and had every intention of being there to see you and Soap have your nikkah ceremony; Price even made sure that everybody had something decent to wear, as he wasn't about to allow Ghost to show up in jeans and a shirt. He only hoped that you had had some sort of influence over what Soap was going to wear, as he didn't trust him to make that kind of decision and make a decent choice. Still, though, as everyone paused for a moment to watch you and Soap dance by the disconnected pipe, they couldn't help but to smile.

You were nearly too perfect for one another. Balanced, as all good things had to be, but whenever you were this close to him, this close to the rare domestic nature of being home together, you couldn't help but to silently thank Allah that you had joined up to the RAF; if you hadn't, you would have never met Soap, and after so long together, you weren't sure if you could imagine life without him.

The song faded out, and as you looked into Soap's eyes, you didn't even try and fight back the grin. "I love you, you daft bastard."

"I know," he hummed, leaning into your touch when you ran your hand through his hair. "I love ya, too."

"Get back to work," Ghost huffed. "We ain't got all day, and the footie's on at nine."

"Good for you," you bit back with a soft laugh. "But I have Maghrib at five."

"Yeah," Soap nodded. "We need you out by five. Prayer can't be interrupted, and (y/n) doesn't like it when he's not on time."

The others nodded, offering assurances that most of the work would be done well before that, as Laswell was almost done fitting the new boiler, and Price and Gaz had nearly finished all the cupboards, which meant that Farah and Ghost were nearly done, too, and with Alejandro and Rodolfo and König keeping things tidy, cleaning wasn't going to be an issue as it was. Thankfully, because there were more than one of you working on the kitchen, a two week job became just a few hours in the day; you and Soap only had to move the pipe to connect it to where you had put the sink, which was easy enough, and he was more than keen on showing off.

"We get it, baby," you laughed. "You're so big and strong and-"

"There's a child present," Gaz waved. "Please stop."

There were a few laughs, but you didn't take your eyes off of Soap, especially not when he purposefully flashed you his stomach by grabbing the hem of his shirt and wiping his forehead with it; he knew what he was doing when he held it for a few seconds too long, and shot you a shit-eating grin when he realised it had worked.

"You were sayin'?"

"Nothing," you grumbled, shaking your head. "Just that you're so big, and so strong."

Soap wouldn't drop his grin as he set the pipe down and allowed you to sit beside him as you worked on fixing it back up; but he soon moved behind you, purposefully angling his body so that he could ghost his lips against the back of your neck, his hands holding the pipe steadily, right beside your own. You were trapped, but you didn't want to move.

"You are such a dick, MacTavish."

"And you love it."

You knew, then, that until five o'clock, it was going to be a long damn day, and your focus was going to falter if Soap kept acting the way he did; but at least, there was some fun to be had.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #john mactavish x you #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish imagine #soap imagine #soap x you #soap x reader #soap #call of duty fic #call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty #cod x you #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod

[gegewrites]

mr.whites daughter Chapter 5- back at home

Your pov

I woke up in a bed, my jacket was on the pillow next to me and I could hear a TV. I knew I wasn't at my apartment, or really where I was for that fact. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at my fingers, no mascara. The sun was shining gold into the yellow room, meaning it's been a few hours, at least more then three or even five hours.  I put my head in my hands as it felt like I just woke up from a rave. Then things started clicking.

I was in jesses apartment.

I was drugged.

"Fuckin A." I whispered.

"Hey." I heard a girl say, I looked over my shoulder and saw a girl with black hair and bangs standing in the door way,"I took of your mascara, hope that was okay, it's I know how annoying it is to wake up with it after it's wet."

"Ya, no, thanks."  I Rolled my neck and cracked each side and  grabbed my boots and put them on.

"I don't think you should leave (y/n)."

"I'm sorry who are you?" I stood up grabbing my jacket.

"I'm Jane, live next door." She rested on the door frame.

"Oh ya, your we're over the other night when I came by." I put my jacket on checking that I had my cellphone, my wallet and keys were in my car, which I think badger got?

"Ya." She nodded.

"I'm gonna-"

"Jesses worried about you, you know that right?" Look she seemed nice but I didn't want this right now.

"What time is it?" I asked trying to divert the conversation.

"7." She said and I nodded,"he's worried (y/n)."

"I bet he is." I scoffed.

"No he really is. He sat there waiting for you to wake up for two hours." She crossed her arms,"look, I've been we're you are, I'm 18 months sober."

"I was a year and I fucked that up." I let out a slight chuckle.

"Doesn't mean you can't go back."

"I quit with the NA shit a while ago." I walked towards her,"I gotta go."

"I saw the marks on your arm."

"Not my problem." I shook my head.

"Jesse is crazy over you."

"He's dating you now isn't he?" I raised my brow.

"Doesn't change how he feels about you." She shook her head and I slipped past her,"he calls you his soulmate, his best friend." She grabbed my shoulder and I winced.

"He also called me a worthless junkie whore that people like to pass around." I turned to face her, she was a bit taller then me and I heard the front door open,"I personally couldn't care less, because that's exactly what I am and he showed me that. If you'll excuse me, I have to get a ride to my apartment."

"Good thing ur dads outside right now then huh?" I heard Jesse say behind me. I turned around and he was leaning on the door, I could see my dad in perfect view from where I was,"I called him, I told him."

"Fuck you jesse." I walked towards him,"Fuck you."

"You'll thank me later, you know it."  I simply shook my head at him. I walked past him, bumping into him with my shoulder.

I walked down the stairs as my dad walked towards me. I tried to walk past him but he hugged me before I could dodge him. I bit my lip as I stood still in his grasp, I wanted to cry. I really Fuckin did.

"Get clean yo!" Jesse yelled,"please!"

I heard his door close and I grabbed onto my dad and broke down.

"I want you to come home." He whispered as i hugged him back,"your mom is worried sick."

I pushed him off.

"You told mom?!" I backed away from him.

"I had to, she was right there listening to the voice mail Jesse left, it was after everyone left." He held onto my shoulder,"I'm your father, I'm not gonna let you do this to urself."

"I swear to god." I shook my head,"if hank find out-"

"We arent going to let that happen. We've already agreed on it, we don't want his DEA shit getting involved. This is a household secret, your brother doesn't even know yet." I wiped my face if the tears,"I went to your apartment and I threw it all away."

"You're telling me, my mother, knows I'm smoking meth?"

"Your mother knows your snorting Coke and you were drugged. I answered the phone before Jesse could mention meth. So no she doesn't know about that...but I know about the herion. Get in the car, we're getting you clothes , and you're coming home." I nodded, giving up. I looked back to jesses apartment and saw him through the window, Jane behind him. He nodded and I shook my head and nudged my dad off and walked around to the passenger side of the car and got in.

Next morning-

I woke up the next morning on the couch. Feeling a hand on my shoulder and fingers running through my hair.

"Sweetheart?" I heard my mom,"hey."

"Hi." I whispered wrapping my arm under the pillow.

"I got you some coffee."  I opened my eyes and sat up, she was dressed for work, had to be early,"I have to go to work, but it dad is gonna be home and so is junior if he doesn't go to Louis's."

"Okay." I rubbed my face and she pulled me into a hug and I hugged her back.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?  I don't think Ted will mind me stepping out for a bit."

"Mom, don't jeopardize your job for me please." I muttered.

"I will jeopardize anything and everything for you." SHe pulled away to look at me,"I mean it."

"I know." I nodded and she kissed my forehead. She stood up and gave me a goodbye as she walked out. I laid back down and my phone rang, I could already feel the withdrawals. A familiar feeling of a slight shaking and a rising  headache. I sluggishly opened my phone and put it to my ear.

"How you feelin?" I heard Jesse, his freshly woken up voice ringing into my ear.

"I just woke up."

"Makes two of us."

"Your girl over?" I forced myself to sit up.

"No, um...ya."

"Cause of me?" I grabbed the cup of coffee and I heard a saw ring out through the house confused as to where it was coming from.

"Nah, when you called something happened with her dad and shit, and then a conversation about why she acted like she didn't know me and shit when you can and after so she left." I nodded and hummed,"is that a saw?"

"I don't even know." I took a sip of coffee.

"You need anything?"

"No, I'll be fine." I shook my head.

"Yo if you need anythin, well not just anythin, I can bring it to ya on the DL. Make sure I don't see-" I cut him off.

"My mom knows I was dating you, cats out of the bag. I'll call you later."

"Aight, call you later." With that I hung up and got off the couch, swaying slightly. I walked past the kitchen and to where the noise was coming from. The utility closet.

"What are you doing?" I bent down slightly. The saw stopped and my dads head popped out of the hole in the floor.

"We have rot." He stated.

"Fuckin great." I muttered and I went to walk out and he spoke.

"How you feelin?"

"Be better if I was at my quiet apartment, alone." I looked down the hole.

"Can't know you won't use if you're there." I rubbed my face dragging my hand to my neck.

"Can I take a shower?"

"Yeah." He nodded  and I walked away, the saw rang through my ears once more and I groaned in annoyance.

After my shower, I got dressed in the bathroom, they had my bags in holly's nursery. I walked out of the bathroom and saw my brother leaning on the wall.

"It's free now." I said and he smiled.

"You okay?" He asked and I nodded.

"I'm fine. I heard you got took 3 shots of tequila the other day." I smiled, as I walked down the hall. He followed behind me.

"Ya." He laughed,"got sick right after."

"That happens, don't worry about it." I shook my head  and made it back to the couch.

"What-what happened yesterday?" He sat down in the chair, moving his crusted to lean on the arm of it.

"I made a mistake."  I stated,"and ya."

"Oh." He nodded,"mom and dad we-were worried."

"I bet they were." I looked at him,"you going to Louiss?"

"Ya later." He nodded and I smiled.

"Have long have you guys been friends again?"

"A few years." He smiled.

We ended up watching TV. I fell Asleep at some point during the show. I was woken up by my phone ringing so I answered it.

"Combos been shot." I heard Jesse.

"What?"

"He's dead. Was fuckin shot. I can't reach your dad for shit  right now." I could hear his voice shaking. I got up off the couch.

"Dad!" I yelled walking back to the utility closet quickly,"dad! He ain't here man."

"We'll where do you think he is?!" He yelled.

"Jesus Christ don't yell. I don't know, I'll try calling him." I hung up and walked out of the utility closet and got to his contact, as I dialed it, I felt that wave of dizziness hit me like a freight truck from behind. I rushed into the bathroom.

I opened my eyes, facing the bathtub. I went to sit up and laid back down as my Body felt like snd ice cube, sending a dizzing chill down my spine. I felt my forearm was wet so I opened my eyes and saw blood. A small pool around it. My eyes drifted to the toilet above me and I saw red on it as well. I hit the toilet when I passed out, right on my gash, opening it again. I just laid on the floor and groaned swallowing hard and breathing deeply. My body shakes and I felt like I was sweating. My body first and i let out a whimper. I hugged my knees into my chest.

I felt myself zone back into unconsciousness and then back in.

"(y/n)?" Someone shook me,"sweetheart wake up, come on."

"Mmm." I groaned as the shaking continued.

"Honey you're bleeding." It was my mom,"Walter!"

"Coming!" I heard my dad yell.

"Leave me alone." I whispered.

"Im not doing that." I felt a towel rub against my arm, and then my arm was lifted.

"(y/n)?" I heard my dad speak.

"Should we call 9/11? We should." My moms panicked voice rang into my ears, and I groaned.

"No no, it's fine, it just the withdrawal." I felt a pair of hands grab under my waist and pull me up. I leaned against my fathers frame and felt a towel wipe my cheek and around my temple.

"She Could be concussed."

"No." I shook my head,"don't call."

"(y/n)." My mom whispered.

"I'll get her to the couch." My dad answered. I felt him stand up and I held onto him the best I could as he made me stand up. My legs felt weak as he walked me out of the bathroom,"you got it."

I few seconds later I hit the couch, curling into myself as I felt a blanket cover me.

The next day I was sitting in sauls office. Jesse was smoking a cigarette and tapping the ash into the justice scale on the table by the door.

"So who's this? We haven't met." Saul looked at me.

"I'm only here because one of our guys, for shot and killed." I shrugged.

"So who are you?" He put his mug in the table.

"I'm (y/n)." I crossed my arms, leaning back into the sofa.

"Alright then."

"Look, one of our guys, combo got murdered for selling at the wrong corner." Jesse said.

"The one you put him on." My dad said.

"You're the one who said to expand!" Jesse argued and I rolled my eyes.

"Woah woah, do I look like Muary povich to you guys? Here's your problem, you guys can't peddle meth for shit." Saul and and I laughed.

"They can't."

"And you can?" Saul asked and I scoffed.

"I can sell a pound for 65 grand in a night, I can peddle." I nodded.

"Here's what you guys need, you need a bigger distributor." Saul said and my dad shook his head.

"No, no we're not messing with another distributor." I glanced at my dad.

"Not some speed freak, you need an honest to God buisness man, someone who's been doing this for 20 years, and hasn't been caught. Only deals on bulk and ships almost everywhere." Saul pointed at us,"I'll make some calls, and you guys will go and meet him."

"Can they just do it?" I pointed to my dad and Jesse.

"Ya, I don't see why not, unless they're gonna say something stupid." Saul shrugged and I stood up.

"Good, then I'm leaving." I walked past my dad and around sauls chair.

"You're leaving?" Jesse asked.

"Yes I'm leaving, you two can keep me in the loop." I grabbed my keys off the table.

"Do you really wanna work with them?" Saul asked and cocked my head at him.

"Yes, and They'll keep me in the loop for the time being, cause if they don't, I'll be holding a gun to each of their heads." I smiled,"and maybe to yours."

"You're the muscle arent you?" Saul grinned.

"What?" I raised my brow at him.

"For a hefty bruise and cut right there." He pointed to his temple.

"I passed out and slammed my head on a toilet, I got pistol whipped by Tuco Salamanca."

"Cause you fought back huh? Makes you the muscle." He crossed his arms.

"I'm leaving, I'll you see at home." I spoke to my dad as I opened the door and walked out.

#jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #Jesse pinkman smut #breaking bad #breaking bad smut #breaking bad fanfiction

[mycomori]

today at work was good, opened w my coworker r and they didn’t seem to be mad at me about yesterday and i didn’t get yelled at. also found out our manager’s wife is pregnant so that’s cool! had a good day right up until the end of my shift where i clocked out and went to get a jug of water to bring home. only to accidentally knock a glass bottle of soemthing sparkling off the bottom shelf. it shattered everywhere and there were two people standing behind me. i immediately spun around like “are you okay?” and the first thing i see is blood like so much fucking blood i guess a flying piece of glass slashed her bare calf and the cit was so deep it was as bad of not worse than the worst self harm i’ve ever doen to muself and that was an accident. and i’m immediately like oh my god and drop my bag on the floor and run totnhe back room and start frantically grabbing things from the first aid kot. by the time i got bakc she was bleeding onto the floor and i dragged a chair for her because standing was making it bleed even worse and we had to elevate her leg on the middle of the fuckin grocery store isle. once i got store managers aware and involved o basically just flitted around finding things that could be helpful from the first aid kit (we quickly realized the disinfectant and large bandaids i had grabbed first weren’t gonna cut it so i ended up digging uo cause pads gauze wrap and a compression wrap). after that i left becaus si don’t wnat to crowd her and i had to go and everyone else was already on it but like she’s gonna need stitches and i feel so fucking bad iwas dissociating already bu the time i got done gathering medical supplies for her i guess i looked visible mh uoset cause my one coworker the manager of another department stopped me and asked what happened and i told him nd he comforted me that it was jjst an accident hur fuck man i feel so fucking bad like there’s literally nothing i could have done tk stop it but i’m the one that knocked the bottle over and now she’s got this terribly deep cut on her leg at looks so much worse than i remeber even my worst self harm gashes to be and i jsut say in the parking lot dissociating for a while trying to forge myself to focus enough to change my shoes and fucjing drive home. and the whole time i’m liek why couldn’t it have been me i can handle this shit yknow like iv got hundreds of scars i could have dealt w that injury on myself alone if i’d had to (tho not ideal) like why did it have to be someone else i hope she’s okay o feel so fucking bad bro

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #078

What was the name of the first friend you ever made? Brianna. What is your dream honeymoon destination? Alaska. I want to see the Northern Lights with my partner. How many followers do you have on Instagram? Uh I just checked and actually both my main photography one and roadkill photos one have 86. What TV show will you always recommend anyone should watch? Extraordinary Attorney Woo, absolutely. That show touches me SO deeply; I'm very very sympathetic to those that suffer with autism (hell, *I* might), and I think it does a good job at expressing how important it is to treat everyone equally and open your mind to how others just exist differently but also just the same as everyone else. I hope that makes sense. It's just a very emotional and well-written show that highlights beauty in the individual. If you won one million dollars and HAD to spend it, what would you spend it on? So it sounds like charity isn't an option? In that case, I'd get a new place for Mom and me, a new car, figure out what debt I'm in to handle that... those are the important ones I can think of. I'd have to think further and more carefully on the less-important things and I don't feel like doing that rn for a hypothetical.

How many people have seen you completely naked in the last five years? Ummmm... I honestly want to say just one, my mom. Have you ever dated/been “involved” with someone of another race? If so, did your parents know? If not, would you ever? I dated Juan for literally a day, and he's Hispanic. Mom knew, but I don't think Dad did. He probably thought SOMETHING was going on though, because we used to hang out kinda regularly and pretty much since we met he was very open about liking me. Do you watch Criminal Minds? No. What’s the most depressing movie you’ve ever seen? The Boy in the Striped Pajamas tears my fucking heart open. I only ever watched it in school a few times, and each time I very easily cried at the end. Which TV shows do you own on DVD? I own seasons 1-4 of Meerkat Manor. I do plan on getting the fifth whenever it's released like that. Who is the first person who broke your heart? My dad, honestly. Do you know anyone who has fought in a war? Girt's dad was in Desert Storm, I know. I think my Mom's... grandpa was also in a war? Someone on her side has been. Who is the last person you cut out of your life? Mini, again. She shared transphobic shit (among other stuff...) on Insta and I was like nope, bye, for good this fuckin time. I can't stay in contact with her and pretend I'm standing for the rights so I firmly believe in. Name ONE good memory about your last ex? There was one night the first time I visited her where we just chilled in the room I was staying in listening to music and talking about the most random and pointless shit. I felt really bonded with her that night. Have you ever been shot? No, thankfully. Let's keep it that way, please. What has damaged you? More than anything, just poor mental health, but also broken promises, betrayal, losing people (I handle loss SO fucking poorly), growing up with parents that never stopped fighting, witnessing alcoholism, witnessing my sister be abused, and I guess in some ways you really could say love. Loving too hard is a real fucking thing. What kind of trees do you have in your yard? I actually don't know what they are. What do you feel guilty about? Jesus Christ... I'm tempted to skip this because I feel guilt over so much. How I treated Jason, how I talked to my dad before we made up, not having a job nor going to school, not exercising like I should, neglecting/not further exploring my talents, never being able to remember shit, not having stronger relationships with my siblings, not being as proactive with helping around the house, neglecting my physical health, and honestly for just... not being a friend to myself, at all. I want to stop here, this is upsetting me. Do you have commitment issues? That's something I've never struggled with. What is the coolest thing you can do? Uhhhh... idk. When did you last feel overwhelmed? I felt overwhelmed in the BEST fuckin way possible a couple days back; the Silent Hill franchise has been no less than totally revived with like, an hour-long (I think longer?) announcement of MULTIPLE upcoming game installments and a new movie! The first thing to be shared was the trailer for the FUCKING REMAKE of Silent Hill 2, my favorite game in the entire fucking universe, and I literally cried and shook for SO LONG, like I WANTED to faint. I am ECSTATIC and so fucking hyped to see how everything develops!! Do you have anything from past relationships? Yeah. Who was your most serious relationship? Jason, but Girt is getting pretty damn close as far as seriousness goes. I'm older and more matured now and this relationship is DEFINITELY healthier. When was the last time you cried? At the Silent Hill 2 trailer I mentioned a couple questions ago. My excitement is just so, so fucking beyond words. It actually LOOKS GOOD, which is super encouraging because a very large portion of the fanbase actually hasn't wanted a remake. I was on the fence about it, but I am SO into it now having seen the preview!! Do you ever feel left out? When? Yeah, I guess... I sometimes get jealous of Ashley and Nicole's relationship, thinking about it. They're pretty close and definitely talk with each other more and meanwhile I'm just over here in the corner uncomfortably twiddling my thumbs because I don't know how to engage with them. How useful do you feel to others? I feel COMPLETELY useless. Is there a loaded gun in your house? Do you have access to it? No, that wouldn't be legal with my mental health and history. I don't even WANT access to one. [TW: SELF-HARM] Have you ever inflicted pain on yourself? How? Yes, because I used to cut myself, usually with weird things like paperclips and thumbtacks. I never wanted to bleed out, just distract from the emotional pain. I also remember an occasion where I was just banging my fist against my bed's headboard to focus again on physical discomfort versus what I had going on mentally... Jason had to literally grab and hold me to make me stop. Do you like gore? Usually, anyway. Do you write poetry? Are you any good? Occasionally, and I guess I'm okay... I've actually been teetering on the brink of trying to write two poems and it's kinda a goal of mine to maybe publish a poetry book or something. Do you think dragonflies are cool? I do. What’s a game that you play often? I play some World of Warcraft pretty much daily. Do you like fudge? I fucking LOVE fudge, like that's one of my favorite treats in the world. Best movie soundtrack ever: I honestly feel like I gotta go with either Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron or Tarzan. Phil Collins is just a fucking legend. What was your favorite Disney movie as a kid? It was The Lion King and still is. I also very thoroughly enjoy the sequel and did as a kid as well. When’s the last time you were at a playground? A few years back when I was taking photographs for someone's family. Have you ever been to an apple orchard? No, but I would absolutely love to. Were there any cartoons your parents didn’t let you watch as a kid? Ummmm I don't know about not LETTING us, but I do know my mom really didn't like Cow and Chicken as well as Catdog. The former I didn't like/didn't watch anyway, but damn did I love Catdog. Do you need to clean your room? Sigh, yes. My mom dusted for me one day so a lot of plushies and knick-knacks had to be moved around and I just... haven't put them back. I'm going to before Girt's family comes here next weekend, though. I need to at least look like I have my shit together. I am heavily considering redecorating my room to something more minimalistic so it's easier for me to keep up with keeping it tidy and not a dusty disaster... No one ever really changes. They just get better at hiding their flaws. True or false? That is absolutely false. Do you drink milk? I do, but I wish I could change to something non-dairy... because the dairy industry is appalling. I am just so motherfucking picky. Could you handle motherhood? No. I can almost GUARANFUCKINGTEE I would end up killing myself or surrendering the kid because I just couldn't handle it, and that would haunt me to the end of my days. Would you rather have a bulldog puppy or a husky puppy? I don't want another dog period, but I think I would have to go with a husky; I don't support the breeding of animals that can't fucking breathe, so although I think bulldogs are ADORABLE, I couldn't stomach buying one. I guess however if it was purely an adoption/rescue case, I would definitely pick the bulldog. Huskies are SO fucking stunning, but I know I'd be bad at keeping up with grooming them as much as they require. Pancakes, or waffles? Eh, I go back and forth. Both are great. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Uh, yeah? Who doesn't? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? They really are, actually. I just wouldn't enjoy them/literally couldn't now because of all the walking... but they offer some pretty cool and unique stuff. I had the BEST fudge one time when Colleen, her husband, and I all went on a random daytrip to the beach. When it rains does it leave a lake in your front yard? No, but holy shit that was the story of my childhood home. The whole area handled rain very, VERY badly, like the ditches 'round that area pretty much constantly have water and there's even this one spot where if there's a sudden downpour? One road is absolutely horribly flooded. It's a joke there. What color is your music device? Hot pink. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No? I always thought it was really nice for someone to even WANT my signature. Where is one place that you’d never be caught dead in? Strip club, to name one. Apple Jacks; yay or nay? Holy shit, I forgot about those, but big yay. They're great. What is the last cartoon that you have watched? Uhhhh... it woulda been something at Ashley's place yesterday with the kids. I feel like it was Spidey and His Amazing Friends (something like that), though I wasn't paying much attention to it. Have you ever been to a nursing home? I know I have at least once, to see the woman my mom used to take care of literally the day before she died... It was one of the most fucking heartbreaking things I've ever seen. I literally started crying in the room while trying so hard to hide it from Katherine. She was basically a corpse already. I literally cannot put it into words, what I felt looking at someone who was alive but also so, SO dead, and I barely even knew this woman... Who do you know that watches the most sports? Uh, either my dad or sister's husband, probably? Do/did you get into trouble a lot at school? Not at all, really; I was super well-behaved. I only ever got into trouble for having too many morning tardies, which were always my fault because I never wanted to get outta bed... Do you usually initiate hugs? Yes actually, I love hugs. Do you say “I love you” to your best friends? I am VERY much for telling your friends that; I sure do. If you could meet one famous person, who would it be? Markiplier. Do you hate it when people look over your shoulder? YES YES YES YES YES. Even if I have nothing to hide, I DO NOT like people doing this. Like I will literally stop what I'm doing. Who was the last person you offended? Probably Mom... she woke me up mid-nightmare this morning and I just totally screamed "WHAT?!" at her while still asleep. I felt like total fucking shit. Like I was THANKFUL she woke me up, because the nightmare involved getting in a fight with Jason, and I DO NOT want to know where it would've gone. I apologized to her and she said she understood that it "wasn't me," but still. I feel like shit. What is one thing you never want to lose? My pursuit to be artistic is one. Do you have a Wii? Yeah. Did you honestly listen to Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really listen to him before or after he died. I mean he has some songs that are nice, but his music isn't something I chase. Do you ever have so much energy that it’s annoying? ... No? I honestly wish????? I have practically no energy. What is the most significant health issue you have been dealing with lately? I mean, probably my weight. I'm really struggling to get the protein I need to get these shots to do their job with burning the bad stuff, so my weight isn't moving much. I HAVE lost water weight though/have pretty much succeeded in incorporating a MUCH healthier amount of water in my life, but I'm still just frustrated. It's like nothing I do works. What was the name of the first guy/girl you dated? Aaron. What is something you love that you can’t get where you live? Uh, I'm real uncertain here; the only thing I can think of immediately is Hot Topic, which is a minimum hour drive to reach one. What quotes from TV or film do you use regularly (if any)? I don't think any, really. What are weird sites you can’t stop going on? Uh, none that are "weird," I think. What was your worst “Oh shit! Why did I say/do that?!” with a kid? I think just cursing on accident. I put sincere effort into not doing it around kiddos because they generally just don't understand when "bad" words just aren't appropriate in many social situations. What’s your biggest “I need to get a life” moment to date? Oh, fucking easy. Jason literally told me the most dedicated and ambitious he ever saw me was during my ~three-day intense camping of one of the rarest mounts in WoW, called the Time-Lost Proto-drake. I scheduled my sleeping/waking schedule to sync the minimum spawn times of it and the rare it shares a spawn chance with. It was extremely difficult to do but I sure did get that mount two days after my birthday. Him saying that still haunts me to this day, since I STILL kinda take his word as pure fact, and hearing him think I never tried harder for something than I did in a stupid game is fucking excruciating and I'm going to stop talking about it now. What stories are an absolute must read for your children/possible future children? IF I had kids, um... to be totally honest I've forgotten the plots of most children's books, but I remember I really liked Chrysanthemum and its message of meeting uniqueness with acceptance and even adoration. I'd have to ask Mom what some of her favorites were to read to me and my sisters and brother, and which ones had the most important messages. What are some of your favorite monologues? My #1 is FUCKING EASY: the passionate rant of what the world becomes by the villain to the player of Amnesia: The Machine For Pigs leading up to the final scene. I get absolutely covered in goosebumps every. Single. Time. I sometimes even shiver. It is BEAUTIFULLY written and just heartbreaking and haunting in how true it is. Do you actually think it’s gross to talk about body functions? Usually no, especially if they're very normal, pretty much everyday things. HOWEVER, I do believe sometimes it's just better to not share, like over food or if you're around queasy people, etc. Would you rather sleep alone or next to your SO? Next to him, though at the same time I worry severely that I'm going to have a nightmare with him there and lash out in my sleep... When you go out to breakfast, what do you order? If we're talking sit-down restaurants, I tend to favor pancakes or waffles with sausage (or sometimes bacon) and scrambled eggs. Have you ever worked at the same place as your best friend? No. Is there anything hanging on your bathroom walls? No. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever seen in person? So I wasn't sure which was bigger, elephant or orca, and a quick Google search isn't giving me a super clear answer, but it does say orcas are generally heavier, so I'd say an orca because I went to a Shamu show as a kid at SeaWorld... which I would never, EVER set a single toe into ever again. Would you give mouth to mouth to your dog to save its life? Absolutely. What’s the best burger EVER? Gotta be real man, Wendy's Baconator is fucking perfection. Did you ever show up late for an important event? I don't THINK so.

#survey #surveys #random questions #random surveys

[jeyramarie]

don’t touch my girl- Fezco x Reader (Part 2)

summary: fezco gets a new roommate and you don’t love the idea

wc: 2,949 

warning: guns, drugs use/description, cursing, almost smut (there will be in the future), cal jacobs 🤡

a/n: here it is!! as people requested. i hope everyone enjoys it, i’m feeling a bit anxious about it since the first part did so well sooo hopefully y’all like this one just as much 🥲 feedback is appreaciated, lmk if you wanna be tagged and see y’all next week, happy reading 🦋

part 1~

You stayed with Fezco that night. He wanted you close, having the slight fear that Nate was fine and was going to come back for him. You helped him with his knuckles and basically questioned him the whole night about why he would do such a thing. Why do it in front of so many people? Why risk it that much? But instead of a full constructed answer, he answered with: 

“Ion wanna get you involved, ma.” 

“Involved in what?” 

“Stop askin’ so many questions, babe. I ain’t gonna answer shit.” He replied and stood up from the couch, walking towards the bathroom to get in the shower. 

“I’m sorry, Fez!” You shouted before slumming against the couch again, sighing in defeat. 

You stopped asking questions and a few days after that Custer, Faye’s boyfriend, called asking Fezco for help. Apparently, the bitch pushed the motel manager over the railing from the second floor and of course, the cops were after her. And Custer’s brilliant idea? To send Faye, a junkie, to a drug dealer’s house. Saying that you were pissed was an understatement. You were furious. 

You couldn't believe that someone could be so stupid but yet, there you were. Sitting next to Fez in the car, on your way to pick up Faye behind a dumpster. You both pulled up in an alleyway and the headlights shone brightly which made it easy to find the blonde peeking her head out of a corner. She bolted towards the car, getting in the backseat before Fez drove off as you turned around in your seat to look at her. Her nose was bloody and it ran down to her lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Faye said with a defensive attitude causing you to raise your eyebrows and turn back around. 

“The only reason that I went so crazy is because the motel manager kept saying such mean things.” She continued, trying to explain. 

“I honestly don’t give a fuck.” Fez said, never taking his eyes off the road. 

You all made it back home and Faye sat down on the little stairs that led to the living room while you walked past her to go to the kitchen. You grabbed a paper towel and handed it to her so she could clean up before going back to do the dishes. Fezco finished emptying his pockets and walked in Faye’s direction. 

“Yo, don’t touch nothin’ “He said walked past her. 

“Don’t talk to Ash.” 

“Okay.” she muttered. 

“And don’t go in my fuckin’ room, all right? That’s private for me and my girl.” Fez sat at the dining room chair, going back to the sandwich you made him for dinner. 

“I promise.” Faye replied looking up to see you in the kitchen. 

“Want some of my sandwich?” Fez offered, feeling nothing but pity for the girl. 

“Okay.” She stood up and walked up to the dining room area before sitting next to him. 

“I can make you one if you’d like.” You said from the kitchen. You didn’t see this, but Fezco was mouthing ‘say yes, they’re fuckin’ amazing’ to the blonde which caused her to slightly chuckle. 

“Um.. yeah, I’d love one!” Faye shouted back. 

Ash didn’t talk to Fez after seeing Faye in the house. He was that pissed. You attempted to be the mediator but it went to shit when Astray slammed his bedroom door. Everything you all say for breakfast, Ash would stand up and leave whenever Faye sat down. Like that particular morning. 

You gave the boys some cereal and as they ate you made yourself some coffee. After a moment, Faye walked out with the shortest skirt you’ve ever seen, an open vest and her bralette underneath. You looked at her for a second and went back to what you were doing but the shock was too much. 

Faye was bending down with the fridge door wide open to grab a Coca Cola can which made her ass peek out from the back. You looked towards the boys to see Ash looking at her in annoyance and slight disgust before turning his eyes back to Fez, giving him a death stare. She closed the fridge and walked towards the dining room which made Ash get up and leave. 

“Good morning!” She said, opening the sofa can with her foot on the table. 

“Morning.” Fez muttered and continued eating his cereal. He finished his bowl and stood up, going to the kitchen. 

“Thanks, ma.” He muttered and pecked your forehead. 

“You’re welcome. Now… who's gonna tell her to stop wearing that?” You whispered and turned off the faucet before turning around as you crossed your arms over his chest. 

“Wearing what?” 

“Did you not see that skirt?” You questioned. 

“The only ass I have my eyes on is yours, ma. Don’t worry ‘bout anything.” He whispered as he walked closer to you.

“She’s been looking at you funny…wearing sexy outfits and shit… it’s annoying as fuck, it doesn’t feel good from my point of view.” You looked at him with a slight frown before you hit the inside of your cheek. 

“She just gon be here for a bit longer, I promise.” Fezco said and pecked your lips before moving away to his room to get showered. 

That night, he invited you and Faye to go over to the convenience store with him. So you wouldn’t have to stay alone with her for so long. You decided to go, suddenly feeling trapped in the house. 

The store was empty at the moment and you were leaning against the register counter talking to Fez as Faye sat at a corner looking everywhere. Ash was behind the fridges, working on the drugs and the money as usual. You were looking at the ground, chuckling at some Fez said when a customer walked in. 

“Lexi Howard.” Fezco called out with a smile. 

“Hi.” She smiled back before waving at you. 

“How you doin’?” 

“I’m good, um…” Lexi began as she walked to stand in front of the red head but stopped when she saw Faye. 

“Hi, I’m Faye.” The blonde said and smiled. 

“I’m Lexi, um.. weren’t you guys..” She said pointing at you and Fez, referring to your relationship. 

“Yeah, yeah, we together. She’s just statin’ with me for a bit, but, but she’s cool, though.” He replied, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“What brings you out here anyway?” 

“Oh, I just came to get a, a drink.” Lexi smiled and turned, walking towards the last fridge. 

“Okay, well, we got plenty of those. Um…do you need help finding anything?” 

“No, I'm okay.” Lexi replied with her arms over chest as she continued to stare at the fridge. 

“Um…Lex, that’s the malt liquor.” You said softly as you stood up straight. 

“Yeah, I know.” She muttered and looked to the side, watching Cal Jacobs walk in. You could tell she was nervous. Lexi’s body language changed and her face radiated fear along with uneasiness. 

“Good evening.” Cal said, causing you to look at him, as well as Fezco. 

“Hello.” You smiled and almost immediately frowned when you saw an odd shape in the pocket of his jacket. 

It looked like a gun. Of course, you didn’t want to risk it so you acted like you were reaching for something next to Fez which made you end up next to him. So, in case anything went south, you were covering him. Cal walked down the side of the store, walking in front of Faye, who followed him with his eyes. 

“What’s up, man?” Fezco muttered, following him with his eyes as well. He turned to Lexi scared and then turned to look at Ash in between the shelves of the fridge. The teen looked at Cal and as well as in there, you could feel the tension in the store. 

“You got any spearmint gum?” He asked, looking at you. 

“I’m not sure, the gum’s over there.” You replied, pointing behind you with your thumb. Cal walked slowly past you, looking down at you which made you reach back to grab Fezco’s leg. As he got closer, Lexi walked away to the back of the store, trying to get away from him. 

“This your store?” He asked, grabbing the gum packet before walking to the back of the store where Lexi was hiding. 

“It’s a family business.” Fezco replied, grabbing your hand that was on his thigh. 

“Do your parents own it?” 

“You usually ask this many questions, man?” 

He appeared back in front of you, with a bag of chips in hand. Your eyes drifted to the side a bit, sneaking a look at Lexi to see that she was unharmed but still looking down in fear. 

“Just you.” Cal said, looking at Fezco. 

“She tell you who I am?” He asked, nodding his head towards Lexi. His eyes drifted to you, looking at you up and down which caused you to shift in your spot. Now you know why Nate always made you feel uncomfortable. His father was the same way. 

“Nah, man.” Fezco replied. 

“Are you a cop?” Faye asked. 

“No.” He turned to her and placed his hand back in his pocket. The shape of the gun came into view again, causing you to stand up straighter, attempting to cover up Fez a bit more. Ash was seeing this so he grabbed the cereal box and reached his hand inside to grab the gun, getting it ready to shoot. Cal’s hand moved out of the pocket to reveal a 20 dollar bill, which he slid next to you, under the register. 

“Just a concerned father.” He muttered before turning around to walk back to his car. Fez stood up and walked out, watching him drive away as the lights began to flicker over him. 

You walked towards the back to find Lexi but saw her run out to her bike. You followed but she paddled fast, getting far away from the store. 

“Lexi!” You shouted but she kept biking away. 

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself and turned around walking back inside. 

“Where’s Lexi?” Fezco asked, walking inside. 

“She probably went home, I don’t know but she’s long gone by now.” You sighed, leaning against the register. 

“Don’t stand in front of me like that.” Fezco said harshly. 

“Why not? I was just protecting yo-”

“Don’t ever stand in front of me like that… If he had a gun he would’ve shot you and that’s the last thing I wanna see. We clear?” He asked, raising his voice. You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest before walking to stand next to Faye. You didn’t talk to Fezco for the rest of the night. 

Around midnight, he closed up the store so it was time to go home. The car ride was quiet and you kept looking out the window as you fidgeted with your fingers. When you arrived at the house, Ash went straight to his bedroom and Faye went directly to the couch as Fezco emptied his pockets at the front door. You went to the kitchen, looking for some water as you replayed the store scene in your head. 

Fezco changed the temperature on the thermostat and walked into the living room with a shotgun. He walked across the room and closed the curtains as Faye exhaled a cloud of smoke from her blunt. You placed the empty glass in the sink and walked out of the kitchen. 

“Night.” You muttered and walked towards the bedroom without looking at Fezco. You got into the shower and after into your pjs before getting comfortable in bed. 

You must’ve been really tired cause you fell asleep waiting for your boyfriend cause a loud clutter woke you up. You lifted your head from the pillow to see Fezco peacefully sleeping next to you. His eyes fluttered open, immediately looking at you to check if you were okay. You rubbed your eyes as you got out of bed and opened the door to see a dark hallway. 

Fezco came from behind you, gun in hand as he slowly checked every room. All that was left was the bathroom so you tiptoed towards it and slowly opened the door to see Faye. She was laying on the floor, in front of the toilet with a needle in her thigh. 

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Faye whispered. 

“Fez!” You called out before walking to stand next to her. He walked in a few seconds later and just stared in shock. 

“I fell.” She whispered again. 

“Come on, kid. Let’s get you to bed.” Fez muttered and placed his gun on top of the toilet as you kneeled next to her, carefully taking out the needle. You threw it in the sink, getting it out from everyone’s reach before helping Fez pick her up to get her in the shower. You stayed with her while the redhead looked for clean clothes to put her in. After a few minutes, Fez carried her back to the couch, pulling the knitted blanket over her as you threw away the drug residue left on the coffee table. 

“Is it true you killed Mouse?” Faye whispered, causing you to whip your head to look at her. 

“Go to sleep.” Fezco replied before walking towards you to tap your shoulder. You looked up and he nodded his head towards the hallway. You stood up and cleaned your hands off on your pj shorts before grabbing Fezco’s extended hand. 

“You should call Custer tomorrow. See what’s gonna happen with her.” You whispered, walking into the bedroom. 

“Yeah, for real, I can’t let her havin’ an OD ‘ere.” He muttered, getting into bed. You hummed, walking over to your side of your bed but stopped seeing the redhead’s back towards you. 

“Are you mad at me?” You asked, making him turn on his back to look at you. 

“I ain’t mad.” 

“Look, I know it bothered you… what I did at the store but I’m not gonna apologize for wanting to protect you.” You said, shaking your head as you looked at the ground. 

“It was obvious that he had a gun and-”

“He was gonna shoot you if he decided to whip that shit out.” Fez spoke, cutting you off. 

“So?”

“So? So?!” He raised his voice. 

“Yeah, why does it matter?!” You raised your voice as well. 

“Why?! Fuck, Y/n. You don’t understand, you don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?!” 

“That if somethin’ happened to you I would die ‘cause I can’t fuckin’ live without you!” Fezco shouted, sitting up on the bed with his back against the headboard. He sighed and rubbed his shaved head as you carefully got into bed, crawling towards him. You swung your leg over his lap and cupped his cheeks, pulling his head upward to look into his blue orbs. 

“I can’t live without you either and that’s why I stepped in front of you. I’ll cover you…as many times as I need.” You whispered.

Fezco lifted his hands from your thighs and cupped your face as your hands lowered to his chest. He pulled you in and connected your lips together. They moved in perfect sync as your hands moved lower to the hem of his white t-shirt, lifting it slightly. You pulled back from the kiss and lifted his shirt over his head before going back to cup his cheeks. 

The kiss continued, getting heated by the second as Fezco’s hand traveled under your shirt, touching your whole back. You pulled away once again and took your shirt off, giving him a clear view of your tits. Your nipples hardened almost immediately as you leaned in again to continue the kiss. Your hands traveled down his torso to the strings of his pajama pants to untie it before burying your hand inside to notice that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. 

Fez grabbed your waist and turned you around so you were underneath him as his lips traveled down your neck. You began to whimper, feeling his beard scratch your skin as he continued to create hickeys over your skin. His lips trailed down chest and engulfed them around one of your nipples, sucking on it slightly. You bit your lip to contain your moan as Fezco pulled down your pajama shorts along with your underwear. 

“I wanna hear you, ma. Let me ‘ear you.” Fez muttered causing you to whimper as your hands ran over his shaved head. He kept kissing lower and lower until finally reaching your navel where he gave you a peck before parting from you. His lips reconnected to yours in a soft loving kiss. Your nails went down his back and onto his lower back to begin pushing down his pants. His ass was exposed, giving you the chance to lightly squeeze it, knowing it would annoy him. 

“Ey, yo, what is that?” Fezco asked in surprise as you laughed, pushing your head back while your hands went up to his shoulders. 

“I had to.” You laughed hysterically as he began to laugh too, burying his head in your neck. 

“Why you gotta grab it like that?” 

“You have a really nice ass, Fezzy.” You laughed as one of your hands went to the top of his head and the other to the back of his neck. Fezco lifted his head and looked at you as you chuckled with a wide smile. He couldn’t help but admire you for a second. 

“I love you.” He muttered as you looked into his eyes with a small grin. 

“I love you too.” You whispered, tracing your fingers down his beard. 

fezco taglist: @hansakind​ @idkimjusthereliving​ @romanogersendgame​ @black-fairy3​ @bracefacelaiiiaa​ @sorceresss​ @mrsjubelova @damn-i-woke-up​ @rafecameronswhore​ @mandowhatnow​ @illumi3​ @suqarszn @joonieshoney​ @hnslchw​ @stylesyourmine​

#fezco x reader #fezco x y/n #fezco x you #fezco angst #fezco fluff #fezco smut #fezco euphoria #fezco fic #fezco imagine

[transtalk]

“Here’s some stuff I’ve learned in my ~12 years since I started transitioning”

*Posted with permission from a Redditor who chooses to remain anonymous.  I am over 10yrs into my transition and agree with most of these points.  Thought this was a great share to help our younger transmen.

I’m 26 and I started transitioning at 14. I recently passed my 10yrs on T recently and I figured I’d pass on some random knowledge I’ve accumulated in my experience.

Physical stuff:

-Be prepared to outgrow any clothes you buy in the first 5ish years on T. You might think you’re in the clear after a couple years, you’re not. That includes shoes.

-Looking at your father and brothers for an idea of what you might look like on T isn’t always accurate. My dad and brother don’t have much body hair, I’m a damn werewolf. On the other hand, they have full heads or hair. My hair has decided to migrate from my head to, well, everywhere else.

-Mature hairlines are a thing, doesn’t necessarily mean receding. My dad has the former, I have the latter.

-Not all hair follicles grow at the same time. Your beard after not shaving for 2 weeks is not the same as your beard after not shaving 2 months and then trimming it to that same length. Ive had a thick, full beard since I was 20. I had to shave for a neck surgery and for the first month I was back to my patchy teenage beard. Right now, wearing a mask is a great opportunity if you want to try growing it out without looking ridiculous.

-Still train all of your body if you’re trying to get a more masculine physique. You may worry about having a bigger butt or thighs but trust me, it’s still important. Also, it’s not all about shoulders, chest, and arms. The lats and traps are often overlooked.

-Penises sit lower than you think and are smaller than you think. Take that into account when packing. I haven’t been in the market for many years but I pray that there are more options now that aren’t 5+”.

-If you get a hysto, hold a pillow over your belly when you cough. Trust me.

-If you have surgery in general, you’re probably going to be thirsty when you wake up. Go slow when they finally let you have water. I’ve puked on a few nurses… sorry guys.

-If you have bottom surgery with urethral lengthening, you might have extra drops of pee that get stuck. The way your urethra is situated has a different angle so more pee gets trapped in there. Press up on the gooch to get it out. Some cis guys have to do it too, it’s called the taint tap.

-Athletic fit pants are great for big booty bros.

Social/emotional stuff:

-It can be hard to see it sometimes, but plenty of cis guys have the same features you’re dysphoric about. Baby face? I’ve got male coworkers older than me that look like teenagers. Wide hips? Some dudes are bottom heavy. Short? If you pay attention, there’s short guys everywhere. The average guy doesn’t look like Channing Tatum.

-There’s a thin line between dysphoria and dysmorphia. What you see in the mirror could be totally different from what people see when they look at you.

-It’s fine to pee in the stall. Standing or sitting. Nobody gives a fuck. Even after phallo I pretty much exclusively pee in stalls. Less splashback, privacy, and pee time is me time.

-There’s another step to transitioning you might not realize: becoming confident in yourself as a man. It’s easier said than done and it can be a pretty long process. You are a manly fuckin man (or a feminine man, but you’re still a Fuckin man) and you are no less of a man than any other. You will be much happier once you can say that to yourself and truly believe it.

-You don’t owe anything to the trans community. There’s no denying there can be negativity. If it’s taking a toll on your mental health or causing more dysphoria, it’s ok to step back. You’re not obligated to involve yourself just because others in the community have helped you. You owe yourself happiness. It took me way to long to learn that. I pop in online once or twice a year in places like this sub where it typically is a civil environment but I limit it to that.

-Along the same lines, it’s ok to be stealth. You are more than your gender and it’s ok if you don’t want others to define you by that. Again, you don’t owe anybody anything. You can support the trans community without disclosing. Vote in support of trans rights, call people out on their bigotry, donate to charities, etc. And unfortunate as it is, your voice is sometimes more heard as an ally than as a trans person.

-Even if you finished the required therapy to get hormones/surgery it’s good to stick with it if you can. I know it’s not possible financially or time wise for everyone, but if you can, you should. All of your struggles don’t magically disappear when you medically transition. It’s good to have a professional help you process everything. I honestly think most people in general can benefit a lot from therapy.

-You could still have some dysphoria even when you have fully transitioned (whatever you define that as for yourself). Many don’t but it’s not a guarantee. I’m sorry to break that to anyone who is just starting their transition but it’s important to realize. If you recognize it, you can learn to cope. I still feel some dysphoria occasionally about the things I cant change. Mainly that I can’t be the biological father to my children. I have to remember that it’s not genetics that makes a father, it’s love and care.

My experience obviously isn’t going to be the same as everyone else’s but I hope this can help someone a little bit.

#trans #transgender #transsexual #ftm #female-to-male #f2m #gender #gender identity #advice #reddit #helpful #transmen #transman #repost #transition #phallo #hormones #testosterone #t #stealth #dysphoria #surgery

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter One / Americano

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Working a dull December morning shift, you meet a seemingly disgraced DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña.

Warnings: Language, talk of death and canon-typical Narcos violence

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: YOU GUYS i am so excited to share this story with you all!! i fuckin love Javi and coffee so this features my two favorite things! big thanks as always to my beta readers for helping me out- especially with chapter 2 (which i was stuck on for 3 weeks lol). I hope you guys enjoy! this story has some twists I don’t think y’all are gonna see coming ;) I’m planning to update this fic once a week! I just wanted to get chapter one out there :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Americano: espresso and hot water; has a similar taste to a brewed coffee, but still darker and more caffeinated thanks to the espresso. 

Work is blissfully slow on weekdays, allowing you to putz along at your own speed. Today, however, is boring as hell. You’d had approximately seven customers since the morning rush, meaning about seven drinks to make. There weren’t even tables to clean, no customers having sat in the cozy coffeeshop. You and your coworker had joked around, swept and mopped, and cleaned the espresso machines twice each. 

At this point, with nothing else to do, you sipped your third peppermint mocha while perched atop two stacked milk crates, leafing through your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a common occurrence when evening rolled around, but rarely so early in the day. Since you were the one on barista duty, Mandy kept watch for customers and allowed you to relax with your book. It was routine for the two of you. She mindlessly fusses with the product wall and the coffee grinder, cleaning everything for the third time.

The door opens and you pop up from your makeshift chair excitedly. The weather is blustery and cold, with heavy snowflakes starting to fall outside the large windows, and the man who enters is pulling his jacket tight around himself. He looks up and you quickly dodge behind the espresso machines before you can make eye contact. It’s instinctual, and you’re unsure why until your brain reminds you of the man’s face. He’s handsome, even though you got maybe a second’s look at him. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, eyes an even darker shade to complement his tanned skin. 

You bite your lip and grab a large ceramic mug, bringing it to the espresso machine. No one would be crazy enough to order a cold drink in this weather. Mandy takes his order and a few seconds later, his receipt pops up through the printer at your end of the shop:

Ticket 114 - 12/3/93

Name: Javier

LG-Redeye

!memo: darkroast

Javier. The name suits the man, you think to yourself and smile as you begin prepping the espresso for his drink. As you walk to Mandy’s station to fill the mug with drip coffee, she smiles and nudges your side. “Isn’t he cute?” She murmurs. You look at the printed ticket then at the coffee warmers: there’s no dark roast. 

“Very,” you giggle a little and fill the mug with light instead. He’s seated in the corner. “I call dibs,” you tease, and Mandy shakes his head. She’s married, but she knows your type, and it’s exactly the man sitting there, staring at a newspaper.

“Yeah, okay,” she shakes her head but smiles at you. “No wedding ring either. I think you should bring his drink to him instead of calling out the order.”

Staring down at the filling mug, you shake your head. “We’ll see,” you chuckle softly and return down to your end of the bar, pouring the two shots of espresso. “Javier?” You call in your barista voice, and the man lifts his head and walks to the bar.

“That’s me,” he says, a small begrudging smile on his face.

“Hi,” you chuckle and hold up the mug. “We’re out of dark roast right now, so I had to use light. Could I put some flavoring or cream or sugar in there for you?” You offer. “Otherwise, I can most definitely make you something else. An americano maybe?”

He pauses for a second. “Yeah, an americano would be great,” he nods. “What kind of flavors… are there?” he asks. 

“Oh, we have a ton,” you say enthusiastically, grabbing the syrup rack and pulling it your way. “Any of these. Hazelnut, vanilla, raspberry,” you smile, rattling off the flavors, “otherwise we also have caramel and any flavor of chocolate.”

Javier raises an eyebrow as he looks at the small display. “Never been somewhere with so many options. Could I do dark chocolate and cream?” He asks, and you nod.

“Of course,” you tell him, dumping the previous mug and grabbing another. “I’ll have that right up for you. You can head back to where you were sitting,” you inform him.

He shakes his head. “I can wait here. Save us both a trip.”

You nod. “Sure,” you say with a smile, prepping more espresso. “The redeye and americano are pretty different in caffeine though, the americano is going to have more since there’s more espresso.”

“I just need as much caffeine as I can get. Tough day ahead,” he nods. 

“I’ve been told bartenders and baristas are wonderful ears to listen,” you offer, a sweet smile on your face.

His guard has fallen like a wrecking ball through a house of cards at the way you smile. “Well, I’m with the DEA.” It feels strange, openly admitting that around here. Colombians weren’t exactly welcoming to American agents, but it felt like citizens around here saw them as some kind of superhero. 

Your eyes light. “Shouldn’t it be a fantastic day for you then?” you ask. “I mean, it’s all over the news. Escobar. Do you know the guys in the photo?” You ask with excitement in your voice.

He nods. Escobar was killed yesterday, and it’s all over the news, including the paper back at his table. “Yeah. The blonde guy in the red shirt is actually my work partner. It’s a tough day because I didn’t get to be there when it happened. I’ve been down in Colombia for years now, and they catch Escobar two days after I leave.”

The smile on your face turns to a frown. “That’s… awful,” you nod, eyes full of sadness for him. “I’m so sorry. At least it must be nice to be home?” you ask, tilting your head slightly and pouring the espresso shots into the mug.

He shakes his head. “D.C. isn’t home. I’m from Texas,” he admits, and the way he speaks finally registers as a slightly slowed speech pattern from the area. “I’m happy for Steve though. The blonde one, my partner. He deserves it. We’ve been down there for… Jesus,” he sighs and looks at the ceiling as he counts the years, “well, a while now. Couple of years. I fucked up, bad. Honestly, I think I’m up here to get fired.” 

You frown slightly as you pump the chocolate into the hot espresso and water, swirling it around with a spoon. “You worked on Escobar for years?” you ask, and Javier nods. “Well, then I personally doubt you’d be getting fired. You guys just caught him, everyone must be in a good mood. I guess it depends on how bad you fucked up,” you shrug as you tap the spoon into the sink and bend down to grab the cream.

“I… do you know who Los Pepes are?” he asks. You shake your head as you stand, pouring some cream into the steaming drink. “Well, they’re a radical group who did some crazy shit to try to weaken Escobar, and I got involved with them. I have a meeting today with the review board.”

You finally make eye contact with him, wincing for him. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great,” you admit with a chuckle, putting the cream back in the little refrigerator beneath you. 

“It’s not.”

“It’s not necessarily why you got called up here,” you shrug and grab a saucer, putting the mug on top of it and on the bar for him to take.

“Well, I don’t know, I suppose,” he agrees and takes the drink from you.

You shrug. “Best of luck, Javier,” you tell him with a genuine smile of encouragement.

He nods, looking at your name tag attached to your apron. He murmurs your name before looking back up at your face and into your eyes. “Thank you.” He takes his drink and returns to his table, and you sigh and return to your makeshift chair in the corner. 

Mandy pulls up two crates next to you, sitting down across from you with gleaming eyes. “Did it go well? You two talked for a while,” she asks, raising her eyebrows and encouraging you to tell her more.

“A little, but just… how I would with anyone, I guess,” you shrug as you sip your mocha for a moment, drinking the last of the warm coffee. “Not like I got his number or anything.”

“He’s sitting down to drink his coffee. Go offer him a refill when he’s done.”

“That would require me to stare at him, Mandy, and I think he’d notice that,” you shake your head as you stand to make yourself a new drink. 

She stands with you, pushing the crates out of the way. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I’ll signal to you when he’s done or getting low on coffee, and you can bring him a refill. How does that sound?” she asks you.

You nod with a sigh. “Since you’re apparently not going to let this go, fine. I will.” 

Mandy claps her hands together excitedly. “Yay!” She sings. “Oh, will you make me a drink while you’re at it? I’ll have a-”

“Skim hazelnut latte with no foam and light whip,” you recite before she can finish her order.

“You’re a babe,” she sings and heads over to clean the tables that haven’t even been touched since she wiped them an hour ago. 

You make her drink and set it aside, then work on your own, fourth coffee. The peppermint and the coffee swirl together deliciously in the air, fitting the weather and the time of year. It’s December, and the snow outside and the warm feeling from the man across the coffee shop contrast in your heart. You sneak glances at him a couple of times, biting your lip to hold back a smile as you admire the handsome face peeking above the newspaper he reads. 

About ten minutes later, you look up from cleaning the machines to see Mandy tucked behind a wall where he can’t see her. She’s frantically waving at you, pointing towards Javier once she catches your attention. Go, she mouths excitedly, beaming at you. 

You wipe your hands on your apron and walk to where she stands. “Fine, I will, but you’re making the drinks if anyone else comes in.”

“Oh no, how will I handle it?” She asks in a deadpan, eyeing the shop that’s empty except for the two of you and Javier. “Go,” she says, giving you a light shove and giggling.

You shake your head but walk over, placing a hand lightly on the table. “Coffee’s looking low. Could I get you a refill?” you offer.

Javier looks up at you, and you feel like turning to jelly as you look into his big brown eyes, filled with confusion but also admiration. He furrows his brow, creating small creases between his eyebrows. “Uh… sure. How much is it?” he asks, reaching for his wallet and setting down the newspaper.

You put a hand on his arm, giving a gentle smile. “You need it. It’s on the shop,” you tell him.

“No, seriously, what, like $5?” he asks, but you put a hand over his. 

“No, Javier,” you chuckle lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Another americano with chocolate and cream?” you ask.

“Uh… make me whatever you like best. And bring one for yourself too.” He says, well, really asks, nodding to the empty chair across from him. “It’s not too busy to talk, is it?”

You swallow hard before you break into a grin. “No, not at all. Uh… do you like peppermint?” you ask. 

“Peppermint is good,” he says, giving you a small smile.

“Perfect,” you smile softly at him, picking up his empty mug and saucer. “We have a peppermint mocha, it’s seasonal. It’s my favorite, I’ll be right back with them,” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip as you turn and walk back to the bar. 

You’re hidden behind the espresso machines as you finally grin and giggle, and Mandy rushes to your side. “Oh my God,” she laughs happily. “He’s so hot. What were you guys talking about?”

“He asked me to sit with him,” you giggle excitedly, preparing four espresso shots. 

She nearly squeals with excitement, grabbing your arm closest to her. You scoop some chocolate chips and pour milk into a pitcher, putting it under the steam wand. “Holy shit. What has he told you so far? What’s his story?”

“Well, he said he’s a DEA agent. He’s on leave from work right now, but the guy in the red shirt in that picture of Escobar after they killed him? That’s his partner,” you tell her, letting the excitement speed your words up. “He’s been in Colombia for a couple of years working on it. Isn’t that cool?” You laugh. 

“So cool,” she nods in agreement. “And he’s so fucking cute. Girl, you need to get your ass back there before I steal him myself.”

You laugh as you pour the shots and then the steamed milk into the mugs. “I’m trying, but you holding onto one of my arms is holding me back, love,” you tease her and she breaks away. You top both mugs with a perfectly peaked whipped cream layer, then sprinkle candy cane pieces and chocolate chips on top. “Wish me luck,” you practically sing as you walk back with a mug for each of you.

Javier’s holding back a grin himself as you make the drinks. He can see your head bobbing along behind the bar, the other woman chatting with you. He’s more transfixed than you than he should allow himself to be, but all fears fade as he sees you approaching with a grin and two large, whipped cream-topped drinks.

You set the drink down in front of him and he smiles at you. “Wow. This…” he looks down at it and smiles a little. “Well, it looks sweet.”

“I have a sweet tooth,” you admit with a soft laugh and sit down, taking a sip and sighing softly. “It tastes like winter. I love it.” He nods and takes a sip too. It’s sweet, but not as bad as he expected. “I added extra espresso to yours,” you tell him, a shy smile on your face. 

“A woman after my own heart,” he chuckles and sets it down, licking the foam off of his mustache. 

You smile a little wider at that and hold back a laugh. “Did you want to talk about the meeting?” you ask him, tilting your head, your expression softening.

Javier’s already falling, and he curses himself as he looks at you. Not a thought except him. He’s already thinking of a sly way to get your number. “No, not really. I just spilled basically my entire life story to you.”

“Then you’ve had a very short and boring life. That was hardly anything. I’ve had customers come in and cry over divorces or lost family members; the whole job situation was mild,” you chuckle and admit, tracing the rim of the mug with your fingertips and staring down at the steaming drink.

“Really? You seem like a therapist and a barista in one,” he teases lightly.

“Well, I did just graduate with a Masters in psychology,” you shrug. “I just graduated with it from Georgetown. That’s why I’m here,” you tell him and look up. “Working here part-time while I decide what I want to do.”

“No shit. I did my undergrad in psych and sociology,” Javier says with a small smile, making your smile grow too. “Texas A&M though. Nothing as prestigious as Georgetown.”

“A&M isn’t anything to sneeze at,” you chuckle as you look over at him. His eyes are deep-set, deeper than they probably normally are. They’re bloodshot and hold bags beneath them. After a breath, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “You look tired. I don’t know you normally, I understand. Maybe you shouldn’t finish this,” you tell him with a concerned smile, scooting his mug towards you. “Too much caffeine.”

“No, I need it, please,” he says, tugging it back and sipping at it again. “Just… until after this meeting. Then I’ll know what my future holds, then I can rest.”

“What time is it at?”

“5:00.”

There’s a beat of silence. “I don’t have any plans tonight,” you say gently, looking at him with a question in your eyes. “Would you like to get dinner? Talk things out, once you know what your future holds?” You offer, a soft smile and hopeful eyes. “I already know enough about you. This could be practice therapy for me,” you tease softly.

Javier thinks for a second, though he knows what the answer will be. At least pretends to think, surprised that you could hear all he had said about Los Pepes and working in Colombia and that you still offered. “I’d like that,” he nods, his voice soft when he looks at you. “I don’t know the area well. You’ll have to tell me where.”

“Do you have a car up here?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. “I can pick you up,” you offer. “Where are you staying?”

He grabs a napkin and pats his pockets for a pen. You hand him the paint pen tucked on your apron and he quickly thanks you before writing down the address to the hotel. You take the napkin and the pen and grab another napkin. “And this…” you say and write down your phone number, sliding it to him, “is where you’ll call me when you’re ready for me to come get you. Okay?” You ask.

Your voice is so soothing, Javier thinks. More than sleep or reassurance or even a hit of Escobar’s private stash or really anything could be to him right now, it’s a comfort. You must be a miracle, he thinks, some kind of blessing for something he isn’t quite sure of, but he must have done something right in the eyes of the Almighty to be here, right now, talking with you. “You know, I was raised Catholic,” he tells you and leans in a little. “I don’t know that I am anymore. But still… I think you might be an angel in disguise.”

Biting your lip, you giggle and look down. “I don’t know about that,” you chuckle as you look up at him again. “Just… right place, right time, maybe. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you ask him, placing your hand over his and standing.

Javier nods as he looks up at you. “How should I dress?” he asks and tilts his head. His eyes are so expressive, you notice and smile a bit. They betray exactly what he’s thinking.

“Um… what you’re wearing now would be fine. A button down and jeans would work,” you tell him with a nod, patting his hand and picking up your mug. “I’ll see you then. Good luck,” you tell him with a sweet smile and retreat to the back. Javier can’t say anything in return, just sips his peppermint mocha.

Three minutes later, you return with a muffin. “Eat this. You can’t have all that caffeine and no food.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and looks down at it. You’re gone when he looks back up, and he breaks off a piece. What a weird day. It’s only about to get weirder.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​ @linnie0119​​

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #javier peña x you #caffeine rush

[darylsgirl]

Mac's Girl

Request 1: Do you write for any Norman characters? If so can you do one with mac from red canyon please? Request 2: Hey sweetie! Could I possibly request a Mac fic? Like he's angry and aggressive and just needs a release and finds the sweetest most innocent virgin and just goes to town roughly on her? Love ya stories BTW!

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long with this! I decided to pretty much write the full Red Canyon film out as it just felt right! As always let me know what you thought! If you want adding to my tag list let me know!

Hope y'all having a great day :)

Love Jen <3

Warnings: Ok so just like the film Please don't read this if the movie triggered you in any way. Mentions of rape/Non-con, Blood, Rough sex, Virginity being taken, Knife play, Murder, Lots of swearing, Smut

Master List

After a long few days drive, a lot of wrong turns and a stop by a cop, you had finally made it, The property your friend and her brother were trying to sell, It was the whole reason you had all come out here was to help them with the business side of the sale, Wanting to make the most of it the group had decided to turn it into a road trip to Utah and while you were there you were all going to go riding in the canyon’s over summer.

Once you had arrived at the siblings Devon & Regina’s property, Your boyfriend Tom, Devon & Samir their friend all stood outside laughing with a beer leaving the women you Regina & Terra to take all the bags in and get the place ready to stay in….Chivalry is definitely dead you thought rolling your eyes.

When everything was set up, The three of you had managed to wrangle up a meagre dinner. Shouting the boys inside you all tucked in before heading to bed. Tom stumbling drunkenly and more than likely drugged up behind you, Pulling your body to his chest slurring his words.

“Finally Alone Y/N, Bout time we sealed the deal here”

Wanting to gag as you felt the revulsion sweeping through your stomach.

“Go to sleep Tom” You hissed through your teeth, pulling your body away from his. You weren’t going to let your first time be with him in the state he was in, In this disgusting place. It wasn’t like you wanted anything romantic, Just not this. The first time you had sex you should at least feel something other than sick at the prospect.

“Frigid bitch” He murmured before rolling away from you, His snores following soon after.

The next day had at least been better taking the bikes from the barn feeling your body physically relax riding through the canyons as it always did when you were on a bike, That was until Samir had gotten a wheel stuck in an old tunnel coming off the bike and having to be rescued before the skin could be torn from his face.

Pulling up to the Luna Mesa afterwards so ready to drink the day away, It definitely didn't look like much but as long as the beer was cold you couldn’t of cared less, Once you had gotten your first drinks and sat down a man came over to speak to Devon introducing himself as Walter, The owner of the bar and the man taking care of the property you were staying in.

After the first drink you had started to feel the exhaustion of the day falling over you, Tom gave you a quick peck on the cheek as you both stood, Him going outside to have his cigarette and you excusing yourself to use the restroom.

Patting your chest and face with cold water you tried to wake up, It was going to be a long night. You knew the guys they would want to spend most of the night here drinking, When they were all together they usually drank until dawn, You scoffed thinking about it college boys ugh…

Leaving the toilet you glanced over to the door just as Tom knocked into Samir sending the drinks to the floor. Before you knew it Tom had been thrown into the bar.

“Easy Partner” Tom groaned, not really aware of what was happening.

“Do i look like your fucking partner? As a matter of fact i don't think i fucking know you?” The man growled back angrily.

Devon noticing the commotion rushed over to help. “Hey mac...MAC!.. It’s uh been awhile ….remember me? That’s tom he’s my cousin”

“Man Devon Ashton and his cousin Tommy, I never thought I'd see you again” Mac replied, his attention fully on Devon now getting close enough to be in his face.

Devon continued looking towards Tom and Samir trying to keep his tone light “This is mac he owns the dog”

Terra cutting in "Oh the animal lover” She scoffed.

Mac ignored this turning back to the bar and raising his voice “Reunion like this is cause for a celebration, Let’s have some whiskey”

Noticing your friend Regina, Still next to the table standing looking worried, You made your way over to her, Still listening to the exchange at the bar as it seemed everyone in the place was.

“I’m fine with beer” Devon replied, keeping his voice level.

“You're gonna have whiskey” Mac declared. The look in his eyes leaving no room for argument taking a bottle from under the counter he poured two shots handing one to Devon and one for himself.

Not taking his eyes off Devons whilst they both threw them back, Taking the glass back from Devon he walked back to the bar.

Everything was silent for a moment, Mac drawing something in the spilt salt on the bar that only Walter could see, Their eyes meeting before he swiped it away, Turning to Terra “Where did Devon find a nice girl like you?”

Terra seemingly un-phased by the tension in the room, Giggling she pointed first at Devon’s chest “Fraternity boy - sorority girl” She replied pointing at herself giving him a wide smile

“College huh? Seems like such a big waste of time to me, but your brave though, Coming out here with Regina after what happened”

Regina ran her hand through her hair when the man’s eyes met hers, “I have to pee” She mumbled nervously before running off to the bathroom leaving you alone, Feeling uncomfortable you moved until you were stood partially behind Terra your hand on her arm trying to pull her back a step, Ready to get out of the way if things were to go sour.

The stranger wasn’t deterred by this “I wouldn't be brave like that, I’d be scared...Heard after your parents little accident Someone gave your little sister a ride. Busted her wide open, isn't it nasty Devon?….”

Devon cut him off swinging a punch at him, “Fuck you”

He reacted quickly moving out of the way and pushing Devon’s head down onto the bar, Holding Terra’s arm firmly, You shook your head slightly trying to warn her not to get involved. Your eyes meeting Tom’s now panicked as he stepped forward and was stopped by a few of the man’s friends.

“That’s fuckin sick...Do you like it?” The bartender jumped into action seeming to know that this would only get worse. He hit a baseball bat against the bar top in a warning. Terra brushed you off; she stood between the two trying to separate them.

“Mac You don't wanna do that son” Mac backed off instantly, Raising the bat to his shoulder the bartender continued “Just a precaution. “Let's dance” Terra said to Mac taking his hand and trying to pull him towards the empty space between the bar and the tables

Mac looked her over once before his eyes met yours still as you stood awkwardly to the side, Throwing her hand away. “Nah” He sneered “Her...She's gonna dance with me” Terra gave you a warning glare over his shoulder, ‘Just do it!’ she mouthed with wide eyes.

Gulping you nodded nervously, Mac pushed harshly through the group, grabbing your waist and dragging you backwards, Once near the tables again both his hands finding your ass he pulled your core to his, Your chest hitting him with a thump.

In a move to steady yourself you put your hands up on the top of his arms as he pushed his face into your neck, His firm arms felt incredible in your grasp.

“You feel fuckin good princess” He growled in your ear before licking a line from the base of your neck to your ear. The breath hitching in your throat. “Real fucking good, Too good for him, I’ll be takin ya for maself” You tried to push the blush in your cheeks away, His core still against yours, you could feel his arousal growing. Taking a deep shaky breath a familiar feeling stirring inside you.

The feeling should have been fear, Surely that’s what your meant to feel as a redneck asshole was groping you, rubbing against you like he owned you. But all you could feel was electricity running through your body like you were meant to be his.

Forgetting for a moment that your friends and boyfriend were staring incredulously at you both, As his teeth nipped the pulse point on your neck, your nipples hardening in response and your panties dampening for him.

Looking him over, He was the stereotypical country boy, His hair and beard a little long, The red and white flannel shirt wrapped around his waist, He was a little dirty but the way his muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt, His well defined collar bones poking out at the top. He was fucking hot, There was no way you could deny this was a real man, Not a college boy like you were used to. The dark glint in his eye threatening to turn you into putty in his hands.

His hands had now found the hem of your Jean shorts gripping harshly at your exposed flesh mouth back to your ear “Can he even fuck, Or do you want a real man to show ya” Pulling his face back his eyes fixed on yours, Your mouth dropping open breath heavy, Not able to hide the effect this man was having on you.

It was over too suddenly your boyfriend Tom had now pushed forward grabbing your arm and all but throwing you towards the door.

Mac looked amused at his reaction, “This your man?” Tom answered for you. “Yeah i am, Let’s go Y/N”

Tom pushed you towards the door, still staring warily at Mac, Mac tilted his head with that gorgeous dark look in his eye and a smirk.

“Not for long....I’ll be seeing you Y/N” It almost sounded like a threat but Why were you wishing it was a promise?

Regina had rejoined you all now standing behind her brother, Mac’s eyes glanced over her before falling back on Tom who had his chest pushed out clearly torn between fight or flight. Pushing you again you all made it to the door.

Pulling Tom’s arm gently you all made it back to the van jumping in and heading home in near silence, Just an angry tension running through the car. Looking over at Regina, You could tell something was bothering her, Regina had been your best friend since she had moved to California with her brother, You had been fast friends even going to the same college, that was how you had met Tom.

Tom was a cocky all american jock, The guy that would usually make your eyes roll with his arrogance. You were sure if he had met you a year before he did he wouldn’t have looked at you like he did now. You were well…you. It was only when you got to college that you even started to think that maybe you could be beautiful.

When you left home moving to campus and into Regina’s sorority everything about you had changed, You didn’t want to be the person you were before.

She was dead, The girl who had been overlooked and bullied. Since leaving home the bruises your abusive parents had constantly given you had faded and you were able to step away from the baggy clothes letting the girls change your wardrobe. You were taking care of yourself more, Making an effort with your appearance, determined that college would be the rebirth of you.

No one who had known you before would have recognised you now.

You hadn’t done it for the attention that you now had an abundance of, You had just wanted to feel more like you, More free. Not realising how it would have the opposite effect when all the boys started to hound you. At first you had enjoyed the attention having gone so long being ignored but now you had grown to hate it it seemed like every idiot on campus had made it his mission to take you as a trophy even some of the professors had made more than one inappropriate comment.

It had taken Tom a while to convince you to go out with him, Even enlisting Regina to wear you down until you had said yes.

When you had eventually agreed the date hadn’t been bad, Yeah you guessed he talked a lot about himself and didn’t really seem to interested in learning much about you, But to be honest it was a welcome break, You hated when people asked too many questions, There was too much in your past that you just weren't proud of. Instead you preferred to be quiet and study those around you. You had studied him intensely, He was a very good looking guy who seemed to have a good enough intellect to keep up with you in the very least, You could have done a lot worse, Also it helped that having Tom around seemed to discourage the creepers which was a definite bonus!

When he had asked you to go to Utah with the group for the summer to ride dirt bikes you had gratefully accepted. Excited to be spending the whole summer away from your fucked up family.

You had done a good job at hiding the insane mess you had come from, It was only one night when you had, had a few too many you had opened up to Regina and she opened up to you in return, You knew you couldn’t let her go back with her brothers stuck up girlfriend without you, She would need someone who understood.

Regina never seemed to really recover from the horror’s of her past, The torment always in her eyes. She had never told you who had done those unspeakable things to her, You weren’t sure she even knew herself.

Sidling over to Regina in the car. “You ok sugar?” She flinched as you pulled her from her thoughts, Grumbling something about being fine. You put your hand in hers giving it a small reassuring squeeze as you all went back to your silence.

It was only when you all got home to the house that Tom finally broke the silence. Turning on you and blocking you from entering.

“What the fuck was that about Y/N!”

Sighing you knew it was coming “I was doing what Terra told me to! We needed to calm the situation down or someone was about to get hurt!”

Your eyes meeting his you could see the jealousy in them “Looked like you needed calming down Y/N you liked that hillbilly asshole putting his hands on you eh?”

Terra shoved Tom out of the way “Leave her alone. He would have destroyed you, He would have picked his teeth with your bones you delusional little prick, He would have killed the both of you two” Glaring at Devon and Samir. Putting her hand in yours she dragged you inside “C’mon Y/N we need a drink”

After a lot of arguing you had gone to the bedroom and pretended to be sleeping when you had felt the bed sag at the side of you when Tom had come to bed. Laying awake for most of the night you let your mind wander over how you had felt pressed against his body.

He felt like a man who knew what he wanted and took it and in the haze of that moment you wanted nothing more.

The mood between you and Tom hadn’t changed in the morning, The plan for the day had been to go for a hike as a group but with tensions high between you two and then Devon and Terra the group had split.

Regina, Devon, Samir & You had gone for the hike in the canyons whilst Terra and Tom had decided to go out on the Dirt bikes.

Terra had tried to reassure you with a soft squeeze to the arm before your groups separated. During your hike everyone had stayed relatively silent only making small observations, A few miles in, Samir had to take a break, Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, While Devon ribbed him for smoking, Samir reached over putting his hand on Regina’s leg. Which caused her to freeze up before standing and mumbling that she was heading back to the van to lie down.

Regina took off before you could stop her.

“Just let her go, It’s ok she just needs to be alone” Devon murmured, Devon wandered a little behind her before stopping and watching she was still on the right track from afar. With Devon out of earshot Samir stood walking over to you, Putting his arm around your waist.

You stiffened as his grip brought you closer to him.

“Thought they’d never leave...Gives us time to get to know each other”

“Uhhh Samir, My boyfriend is your best friend….I think we know each other well enough” You gave him an alarmed look before moving away as far as you could his hand still holding your waist.

“What he doesn't know won’t hurt him….He’s told us you know….That you still haven’t put out. Figured you weren’t interested in the pretty boy” He grinned with a chuckle.

Pulling yourself completely away from him “I don’t see how that’s any of your business creep?” You quipped before yelling to Devon that you were going to explore promising you would be back soon and wouldn’t stray too far.

Watching Samir take a resigned seat back in the shade you took off glad for a few moments alone, The hairs on your neck suddenly stand up, Feeling like prey awaiting the predator’s move. Were you being watched?

When you did a quick sweep with your eyes of the area and saw no one you thought it must just be the after effects of him last night, Letting your mind dwell now on the feelings that had overtaken you last night, Immediately heating up. Looking around now more carefully and still seeing that you were alone.

Letting yourself fully explore those thoughts, Seeing a slight indent in the rock, Perfect. It wasn’t a real cave that could have dangers hidden inside but it would at least hide you if one of the group came to look for you.

You may have been a virgin but you weren’t completely innocent, Completely in tune with your own body, Never pushing too far in to keep your hymen intact for the man you would eventually give it to.

Brushing your hand down your body you let it wander into your shorts feeling the dampness spreading through your fingers, Humming contentedly as you started to work on yourself softly pressing your fingers inside slightly before bringing them to your clit spreading your fluids rolling your clit in your fingers.

Your other hand had worked inside your top finding your erect nipple easily tweaking it between your fingers. Imagining you could still feel him pressed against you, Letting out a soft moan biting down on your lip remembering that dark dangerous glare, The need in his eyes. The need for you.

“Oh Mac..” You moaned softly as your imagination ran wild.

“What the fuck did you just say cunt?” Eyes springing open and hands pulling from their previous places you came face to face with him, The man who just thought of him had turned you on so much you just had to take care of it.

Letting the blush rise in your cheeks, Looking away from him. “Shit….I’m so sorry Mac. I didn’t know you were there…” You mumbled.

He rushed forward pressing his whole body against you bouncing your hips off the harsh rock behind you, From the twang of pain still radiating through them you knew it would be bruised tomorrow but feeling him there pressed up on you, You didn’t give it a second thought.

His hand harshly pushed your head upwards to look at him, “Did’ya just say my fuckin name?”

The Dark dangerous look was in his eyes again but there was something else there too that you just couldn’t place. Nodding slightly averting your eyes from him.

“Fuuucckkk…” He groaned, Just as you opened your mouth to apologise again his mouth was on yours, His tongue not waiting for permission just pushing past your lips and exploring your mouth, Momentarily frozen in shock as you felt his teeth smashing into yours, His hand snaking down the front of your shorts groaning into your mouth as he felt your wetness.

Before you knew what you were doing you were pushing your hands into his hair moaning along with him, Your tongue dancing with his greedily. His fingers teasing your clit rubbing in harsh circles.

His lips stopped moving long enough to make a demand of you “Say it again” he growled.

His nails scratching down your length dipping into your heat.

“Oh Mnmm Mac!” You moaned arching your hips towards him, Your lips searching for his, His fingers hitting that sensitive spot inside you making you mewl for him.

“You’re playin with the devil bitch” he breathed out, Moaning at his words feeling the burn inside you grow stronger maybe that was exactly what you needed to do, Your hand reached out brushing the tent now in his overalls.

A deep angry growl rips from him as he pulls away from you, Turning and heading into a small cave to the side. “Wait-” You tried to call after him.

“Y/N? You over here?” Shit! He must have heard them, that's why he fled. Rearranging your clothes quickly and patting your hair down, It was now or never.

Coming from behind the rock face you see Devon looking for you worried.

“Hey I'm here, Sorry I had to get some shade!” You said far too huskily the arousal still in your voice.

“Yeah, Looks it? Let’s get you back, You're looking a little flustered Reggie will kill me if anything happened to ya” Following behind him back to the van you noticed how he pointedly didn’t say Tom, He probably knew there was nothing really there between the two of you.

Back at the van you felt the eyes on you again, Smirking you pulled the water from your bag you poured it over your face and chest. Reggie raised a questioning eyebrow at you once you’d finished.

Shrugging “What it’s too hot!” You snapped at her. Climbing quickly into the van before the boys noticed how your top had gone see through with the water.

As the van starts to pull away you spare a glance in the direction you felt the glare coming from, He was standing in the open now that dark look in his eyes as he watched you leave, Bringing the fingers that had been touching you so incredibly to his mouth licking them clean. His eyes fixed on yours as the van got further away.

Your mind still stuck on Mac as Reggie shook you, “Were here lets get something to eat” Nodding at her you followed into the bar ordering quickly and barely paying attention to the conversation.

“Hey are you ok?” Nodding again “Think I got a bit of sun stroke” You mumbled. Accepting this as an answer Devon paid for your dinner before heading back to the house.

The sight that met you was hilarious, That prick tom and Terra stuck on the roof of the barn with the poor dog Tom had been tormenting on their heels keeping them up there.

“Stop fucking laughing Y/N DO SOMETHING” Tom yelled at you, sighing you leant over your bag grabbing the sandwich you forgot to eat, Putting two fingers into your mouth you let out a loud whistle.

Grabbing the dogs attention instantly “C’mere baby” As he approached you warily a snarl on his mouth. Samir was behind you holding the gun. Glaring at him “You are not shooting that dog!” You growled making him put it down and his hands up in defence.

“Less of that! Sit!" You commanded clicking your fingers and pointing down. Keeping your eyes on the dog “Reggie get me the rope!” Giving the dog the sandwich and turning to Reggie taking the rope from her. The dog snarled slightly again as you slipped it around its neck.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Tom asked, As he started climbing down from the shed. Shrugging your shoulders. “Dog’s like me I guess?” As the dog finished it noticed Tom lunging back towards him. “It’s you he doesn't like” You giggled.

“C’mon sweetheart let’s take you home” You cooed at him tugging the rope enough to get his attention. Walking away ignoring the protests. Mac’s home was only a 10 minute walk away, Once away from the others you noticed the dogs attitude change significantly. Tongue lolling from its mouth playfully playing with a stick he had found on the walk.

As you approached your heart started beating harder seeing him there, Fuck he looked hot the way his overalls hung from his hips, The way his muscles moved as he kicked the dogs pen angrily.

Clearing your throat “Loose something?” Startled Mac span around “Fuck you doin here bitch!” Pointing at the dog happily sat at your feet. Giving him a scratch behind his ear. “This little cutie decided to get loose and trap my boyfriend and friend on top of a barn” You giggled.

Mac rushing to you both he ripped the rope from around the dog's neck “House, Now” he commanded pointing at the shack. Getting in your face he growled “Get the fuck outta here before you regret it bitch”

What the fuck? You thought he would at least be happy to see you. Feeling the anger surge.

“If it weren't for me” Smacking his chest “They would have shot that dog! Could at least say thank you!” Half yelling at him.

“Thank you?” He mused “I’ll show ya fuckin thank you” Lunging forward he grabbed you tight to him, Wrapping a hand in your hair pulling you towards the shack behind him.

His lips met your angrily as you crossed the threshold of the house. Your nose wrinkled as you were met with a smell that you couldn’t quite place, A mixture of rotting food, dust and sweat.

Spinning you he thrust you towards a room “Get in there cunt”

The bedroom wasn’t too bad, It was a mess sure but the smell in here was nothing like the rest of the house, There was a huge hole in the ceiling but the sheets looked clean enough. Sensing your hesitation, Mac grabbed you again, throwing you face first on the bed.

Before you had time to turn over he was on you, hands pulling your loose shorts off, Panties coming down with them, His fingers digging into your side as he went. Flipping you onto your back he moved to your shirt ripping it over your head.

“Mac what are yo-” He cut you off with a harsh backhand to the face. “Shut the fuck up, You think you can just walk around being a fucking tease and not get whats coming to ya?”

“I wasn’t” Backhanded again “Don’t fucking LIE! The water? Playin with ya damn self! You knew i was watching”

Your head was ringing from the hits, As terrified as you should be at this moment you still couldn’t find the fear, The only feeling was the burning in your loins that you hadn’t been able to quell since you had first laid eyes on him.

In the blink of an eye his overalls and boxers had both dropped to the floor leaving him in only his ratty what used to be white tank top. Gripping your knees he forced them apart pushing them down onto the bed. In one swift move he was in you, A scream breaking from your lips as he tore through your hymen as if it wasn’t even there.

As he turned your face to his you let out a whimper, your body fighting against the pain trying to adjust to his huge size.

“You were a virgin?” He asked with a shocked expression stopping his movements, Nodding weakly “Please” You begged. His hand flew to your throat.

Chuckling “Please what? Stop? i aint had a virgin in a long ass time like fuck i'm stopping!”

“Please….More” A small moan breaking through, Between the pain you were feeling from his claiming of you and the pressure around your throat, It was enough to send you spiralling around him.

He laughed fully now “Ain’t ever had a bitch ask for more before…..” His gravelly voice was sending tingles down your spine, His lips met your throat licking a small line down from your pulse to the underside of your breast, Biting down hard, Screaming again you felt as his teeth punctured hard enough to draw blood.

Finally he moved, Drawing almost fully out of you before thrusting until he bottomed out in you again. The scream turned into a strangled moan as he licked the blood from you, Biting down again on your ribs, Drawing blood there too.

When his head reared back your blood dripped down his chin, His eyes glowing with malevolence, his tongue darting out to lick the blood from his lower lip. Fuck it was hot, So fucking hot.

You were panting now at the sight in front of you. Reaching forward you grabbed his tank pulling his lips to yours. The metallic taste on his lips only spurring you on as your tongues fought each other for dominance.

Leaning back he pushed his thighs under yours lifting your hips higher impossibly pushing even deeper into you, He let go then, Thrashing in and out of you his fingers holding on so tightly to your hip bones that they would definitely at the very least be bruised if not ripped open.

“Ahh fuck Mac!” You screamed feeling the burning growing to a new height.

“Cum for me bitch” He growled his pace moving quicker, His incredible length brushing hard against that little rough patch in you. One of his hands now came down on your clit pinching it roughly before rubbing harsh circles around it.

Everything went dark as your orgasm ripped through you, Your body arching upwards as you exploded screaming his name.

He followed straight after a string of profanities falling from his mouth as he collapsed on top of you.

Your entire body was shaking, Sure you’d had orgasms in the past playing with yourself but nothing like this, Everyone said that the first time would be painful and it would suck.

Painful yes, But no one had told you how good the pain would feel.

As the dark spots in your eyesight started to clear he pushed himself from you, His hand cupping your bruised pussy. Slipping a lone finger inside he scooped some of your mixed juices onto it before thrusting it into your mouth.

Moaning around his fingers as your combined bitter tastes enveloped your senses. You felt yourself getting wet again at this. “Fuck little bitch, Yer making me love you” His voice strained eyes wide as you licked his finger clean.

Grabbing a rag to the side of him he threw it over your face. “Clean ya damn self up and get the fuck out, I got places to be”

Shocked you did as he told you but as you moved to pull your panties back on he snatched them from you, “Not these, These are mine” The gleam in his eyes was back as he brought them to his nose breathing in the scent before pushing them into the pocket of the overalls he had just pulled back on. You’d noticed when he had put them on he hadn’t bothered to clean your blood or his cum from himself.

Nodding at him you pulled your shirt and shorts back on the sense of pride you felt knowing he had a part of you with him now, Feeling like part of you was marking him as he had you with the bites.

Shit the bites! You grabbed the rag again lifting your shirt and bra and wiped the blood that was now drying from them making sure it wouldn’t seep through your shirt.

His back was to you now as you were ready to leave, Sighing you tried to touch him, The second your hand touched his shoulder he span pinning you against the nearest wall his hand pulling your hair back so you were looking into his eyes.

“You’re fucking lucky i'm letting ya live, Might just change my mind…….Now get the fuck out of here” He yelled dragging you to the door and thrusting you out of it.

After you had returned home gratefully no one had paid much attention to you once they had noticed Regina was missing, If you thought what had just happened was crazy the night was only getting worse.

Regina had to be rescued from the cave, Mac had been arrested and now Regina had come back screaming in the middle of the night insisting she had seen her old flame Harley dead outside

Rushing out after her Devon grabbed the gun from by the door. Regina led you back to the car “he's inside!” “You sure Regina?” Devon questioned looking at his sister like she was nuts “look! I saw him look!” She pushed him towards the car “at what?”

Tom looked over Devon’s shoulder, chuckling “How many of those pills did you take reg? What’s next, pink flying elephants?” Laughing harder now, “C’mon Y/N we're going to bed” Tom reaches his arm around you trying to pull you away with him making you flinch as his fingers graze the bite on your ribs.

He had turned you both around when Terra spoke up “Guys there's something in the back” As you all moved towards the back Samir opened the boot, The sheriff's body, tumbling out. There was a chorus of “oh shit! “Fucks” as you all took in the shock of finding the dead man.

“What, Dead?” Tom asked jumping backwards, hiding partially behind you, You snorted fucking pussy.

“Yeah that's one dead pink flying elephant” Samir confirmed for him.

“Shouldn't we do something for him?” Terra asked, the fear clear in her eyes.

“What do you wanna do for him? Take him inside and give him a beer? Huh? He's dead!” Tom yelled at her.

Ignoring his outburst she replied “I don't know, cover him up?” Devon lent forward grabbing the sheriff's coat from behind him and covering his face with it.

Regina brought the attention back to her now as she stood away from the group “I saw Harley in there he was in there before!”

Devon sighed “Regina don't!”

“He’s out here! whoever killed him is still out here!” She argued

Taking in her panicked expression Devon “Are you sure you saw Harley? Are you sure you didn't just see the sheriff?”

“It could have been roger rabbit it could have been anybody” Tom cut in. You gave him a swift smack around the back of his head as Devon turned around yelling “Would you shut up!”

As he turned the gun went off, Tom collapsed to the side of you screaming, Jumping into action you followed him down seeing the source of the bleeding, Good it’s only his calf it should be okay. Putting your hands on the wound trying to stem the bleeding.

The guys grabbed him, helping bring him inside while you kept the pressure on.

Once he was back in the cabin on the couch You moved back letting Samir take over. “You fucking shot me you asshole!” Tom seethed at Devon Before hissing at Samir “Careful fuck!”

“You really got me good didn't you, You trigger happy bastard” He spat turning his attention back to Devon. He tried to excuse himself “It's not my fault it went off!” “You shot my fucking leg off” Rolling your eyes at that, Yes he had just been shot but fuck was he dramatic!

Samir asked Terra to call for an ambulance, The fear in her face said it all. No phone.

Trying to keep Regina calm was an impossible feat never mind adding Tom to the mix.

As Terra tries to suggest making a plan the lights go out Sending Regina into a worse panicked state “We're all gonna die in here. I should have never come back here”

“Were all gonna die here? We’re all here because of you” Tom spat at her and grabbed your hand pulling you to him. Terra gave you a sad look “Were all in this together”

“OH fuck together!!, She’s the one who had to go to that cave! Let me fucking tell you something! Sometimes when you look in dark places Reggie, There are real fucking monsters there you understand!” You gave him a filthy look at this pulling your hand from him

“Being a fucking asshole is not gonna help, She's your fucking Cousin! The least you could do is watch your tongue!”

After a few minutes you had all come up with a plan, Devon and Regina we’re going to Mac’s house to try for a phone and Samir was taking one of the Bikes to try and get help. Leaving you, Terra and Tom in the house.

You watched as Terra got close to Tom on the couch. Snorting you grabbed the bottle of Whiskey from the side walking towards your room.

“Y/N where the fuck are you going?” Tom snarled after you.

Stopping in the doorway to your room “If we're all gonna die, Might as well be drunk!”

“We should stay together”

Laughing at him now “I thought you said ‘Fuck together’ Tom? Thought you two would want the time alone anyway. You’ve been fucking her since we’ve been together”

They both stammered trying to cut you off “Don’t even try to deny it, Honestly i don’t give a shit” You took a long pull of the whiskey and slammed the door behind you. Settling into the bed, If this was Mac he wouldn’t kill you would he?

You had been there drinking in silence for around half an hour, Hearing a noise at the open window you moved closer and let out a shriek when Devon grabbed your arm.

“Why is the fucking door locked?” He asked as he pulled himself through the window “Where is Reggie?” You countered.

“She’s at Mac’s, Blacked out, i need your help to bring her back” Making your way back into the living room you watched as Terra broke away from Tom’s side. “We need to talk Y/N” He grumbled looking between you and Devon.

“No we really don’t” Before you could say anymore you were interrupted by a scream outside. Rushing out Reggie collapsed into your arms. Pulling her in behind you, Devon pulling her away arguing in hushed voices.

As the hour ticked on, Devon and Regina whispered to each other Terra and Tom eyeing you worriedly and you drinking, Waiting for Samir or someone to come and help.

When the sound of a truck got closer. You knew exactly who it was. It was like your blood started singing, Your heart pounding in your ears, the bite on your side itching for him.

The lights from the truck flooded the cabin, Looking out you saw him even with the Mask covering his face you knew exactly who it was.

You watched as he pulled something from the bed of his truck. Shit! Scarpering backwards away from the window pushing Reggie with you who had come up behind you to see what was going on. “MOVE” You yelled at her, As the projectile smashed through the window.

Your body was still covering hers as you both turned to look at the pole which had landed only inches from where you had just been, Was he aiming for you? I guess that answers the earlier question, He would definitely kill you. Why in the hell does that still make you so fucking hot for him.

Tom yells out “what the fuck is that? A pole he threw a fucking pole at us?”

Devon leans forward noticing the cloth wrapped around something on the end. Opening it he jumps back realising it’s Samir’s head.

The bile rushing up your throat as you notice a note attached. Devon leant forward, grabbing it before moving away again. “ ‘Shouldn’t have touched what wasn't his’ What the fuck does that mean? What the fuck did he do?” Regina interrupted him. “The tunnel, Grandpa’s tunnel”

Terra’s head flashed upwards “What tunnel? Can we escape?”

Devon got up moving Regina out of the way and hooked his fingers into a grate on the floor pulling it up“It’s a tunnel my grandfather built when they raided the place during prohibition.”

Tom cut him off “It's no time for a history lesson ok! My best friend's head is sitting on the carpet” Terra helped Tom from the couch as Devon dropped into the hole in the floor. Checking it out before giving the all clear.

Tom reached his arm out to you as he approached giving you a soft look. Giving him a small smile, You weren’t really angry, You’d probably even forgive him if you all survived this, Hell you had done the same thing with Mac. If there was one thing you weren’t it was a hypocrite.

Mac. Even just thinking his name made your heart stop. You grimaced, were you crazy? He was outside trying to kill you and your friends but yet you still wanted him.

Helping tom into the hole in the floor Terra went next then Reggie then you. As you had gotten a few feet down the tunnel Reggie gasped “My necklace!” She tried to fight past you “It was my mothers! I need to get it!”

“Ok, Ok! I’ll get it! Just stay quiet!”

Crawling back to the opening you pushed upwards almost getting it when you felt a hand in the back of your hair pulling you out. “Where the fuck did you think you were going bitch?”

Mac pulled you backwards into him as you struggled to get free. You could hear Reggie crying from the Tunnel, Terra trying to calm her down when another voice mixed in with theirs.

“Oh seriously Reggie? who gives a fuck it’s only Y/N Fucking leave her ass. C’MON” Tom yelled. This stopped your fighting what the fuck? Their noises died away, They really had just left you. All the fight left fuck it if he was going to kill you he might as well get on with it.

“Go on, Kill me then!” You spat. As you spoke he let you go, Turning to him you could see the murderous gleam in his eyes.

“You think i’m going to kill you? I’ve only just started with you Y/N” He grinned “Him though….Oh I’m going to enjoy killing him” Grabbing the pole with Samir’s head still impaled on it using his foot to pull the pole free he walked down the hallway listening intently.

“Little rats think they can scurry away” He laughed before thrusting the pole through the floor, Laughing harder when he heard the screams below. Pulling it out and heading further down the hall he stabbed again twice. He noticed you watching him curiously. “What was the note about Mac?” Your voice sounded braver than you felt.

You noticed Samir’s blood still on his hands, arms and splattered across his chest, The sadist smile still on his face as he moved closer to you. Putting his hands around your back and pulling you into him. His lips at your ear.

“I saw him, Yesterday putting his hands on you, On whats fuckin mine” He lowered his lips to your neck biting down hard. An aroused groan rising through your chest. What the hell was this man doing to you. It felt like you were losing all your faculties, All that was left was him. He was all you cared about.

“C’mon time for that later” Pulled you out of the cabin he pushed you into the passenger side of his truck before getting in himself. Driving a short distance he stopped pulling you out with him. You both stayed silent still in a stupor of sorts you followed him blindly not caring what was happening as long as he was there with you.

It didn’t take long for you to stumble across a light in the distance, With the way the light was moving it had to be a fire. Putting his finger to his lips he stalked towards the fire leaving you there. No! He couldn’t just leave you here! Following after him as silently as you could you watched as he crept over the top of the rock shielding the people from view.

His hand going to his belt, You could see the fire glinting in the metal of the huge knife. Creeping closer again you heard the scream as his hand plunged over the rock into someone.

Moving around the edge you saw who. He was wildly plunging the knife in and out of Tom. Blood poured from him as Reggie screamed and ran. The scream seemed to pull you from your trance. Eyes flicking between the direction Reggie had disappeared to and Mac who was now wrists deep inside Tom’s stomach ripping at the guts inside him.

The glee on his face was evident. Looking at you “Look apparently the gutless bastard, Had them after all! My mistake” The evil chuckle was enough to make the choice for you. You'd felt the unnatural stir inside you of approval at his actions. But you couldn't give into that evil, Not now, Not when your friend needed you.

Running after Regina you desperately tried to catch up to her, You had to find her. Stumbling along you ran for what felt like hours. She was gone. The sun had come up now and you were all alone.

You couldn’t stop walking, This was a mistake. She had left you twice now. The only one who hadn’t left you was Mac, Mac you needed to find Mac! You continued on with more determination now. It wasn’t long until you heard them.

“well what do we have here? The lost pussy! did golden boy leave you all alone”

You could see them now, Mac grabbed her face pulling her to him, kissing her before throwing her to the ground. Jealousy raged within you. It should have been you he was kissing!

“I told that little bitch not to come here but you never listen”

“Don’t fucking touch me” Terra yell grabbing a log at the side of her and hitting him around the head with it. Fucking Bitch!

He stumbled for a moment before he was back on her, Throwing her back to the ground kicking her repeatedly in the stomach, Gripping her arm and pulling her back upwards pulling her tight to his chest, Just like he did to you.

Terra tried to hit him again.

“You’re making me love you just like your little friend, that day she was the only one that got it” He threw her back to the floor kicking her knees apart “That kid fucked us all”

She tried to fight him

“I’m sick of this shit! You’ll beg to die” He growled. Diving forward, Ripping her shirt from her body, She fell to the ground as Mac shrugged out of his overalls letting them hit the ground. Terra looked wild as she got back up “Your not gonna do that to me” She screamed running towards him.

You don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t let her. Running at Terra you hit her before she got to Mac, The force of your body hitting hers sent her tumbling off the edge of the Canyon. Almost falling off with her when you felt the arms clasp around your stomach pulling you to Safety. Peaking over the edge you saw Devon holding a screaming Regina with a dead Terra at their feet.

Mac pulled on you and when you didn’t move he tried again harder pulling you almost off your feet. Looking up at him in fear. “For fuck sake” He sighed. Picking up a rock at his feet. He bashed you around the head with it. Everything went black instantly.

When you woke you could hear him pacing nearby, Whispering angrily into a small phone.

“I’ll fuckin take care of it!....Don’t I always!......Fuck sake! You clean up your other fucking sons mess next time, I ain’t cleaning up after Devon no more!” He hung the phone up, throwing it onto a well lit table next to him.

It was then he noticed you were awake. You could see the anger rolling through him in waves. Pulling at your arms you realised they were restrained above your head. Raising your eyes you saw the hook and rope binding you there. Tugging at it as hard as you could. You heard him laugh.

“Ya aint getting outta that. What you wanted to run from me again...Stupid cunt”

“Where am i?” you asked, steadying your voice as much as you could.

“In my cave...Go on scream little bitch no one will hear you!” He pounced on you sitting on your chest with that gleeful look in his eyes again. Pulling the knife from his belt still covered in Tom’s blood.

Everything was coming back to you now, Samir, Tom & Regina all dead. But what about Devon & Regina? Didn’t he just say Devon’s name?

“Where are Devon and Regina? Are they here?” He scoffed, An indignant smile on his face.

“Baby brother? He’s probably balls deep in his little plaything by now. That was the plan. I got to take all you guys out and he got to claim her. Thought you would of been a good cunt to keep around too but you just had to run” Putting the knife to your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you bloody bitch, Make you beg for me to kill you” Running the knife down from your neck to your cleavage pressing just hard enough to cut but not too deep, The bulge in his overalls becoming more pronounced as he watched the blood following the knife.

Letting out a pained gasp you met his eyes. Keeping your stare hard trying not to show the fear that had started bubbling within you. Leaving the knife propped between your breasts his hand snaked inside his overalls pulling out his impressive length. The blood from earlier dried on there now.

“Suck it clean Y/N” He pushed it to your lips, When they didn’t open he grabbed your chin hard. You felt it click with the pressure. “Open it now, Or this” He picked up the knife “will be going in there instead."

Dropping your mouth open you let him slide inside. Balling his hands in your hair you felt the knife slide across your scalp. He thrust until his full length was in your mouth choking slightly as he slipped into your throat.

You thought it would taste worse than it did considering it had been at least a day since he had taken your virginity, Yours and his juices dried and covering him.

Having never given a blow job before you were all teeth. As he pulled backwards he hissed at your teeth dragging on him. “Fucking bite me and ill bite you back bitch!”

Trying to hide your teeth behind your lips you wrapped them tighter around him sucking and running your tongue down the underside as he pulled out fully. Once only the tip remained in your mouth you sucked harder, Swirling your tongue around it, When the first drop of pre-cum landed on your tongue you moaned wildly. Struggling to push your face forward. Wanting to feel him back in your throat again.

“Fuck. Are you enjoying this? Sick bitch” Slamming back into your throat again, The moan was more intense now you could feel the muscles in your throat vibrating around him. Taking the knife and cutting your bonds.

Your arms dropped to the sides exhausted. Pulling you to your knees by your hair he stood in front of you letting the overalls drop off him completely. Not wasting any time You moved forward bracing your hands on his thighs.

Taking him fully back into his mouth now, Feeling the courage rise back in your chest you looked up into his eyes. Wrapping one hand around the base of him and started bobbing as fast as you could.

“Fffuccckkkk!” He groaned. Hands back in your hair guiding you down onto him.

It didn’t take long for his cock to start twitching. Forcing you off him he threw you back down onto the filthy stained mattress. Knife back in hand he started at the top, Pushing the knife between your breasts again facing outwards this time, He cut your shirt and bra from you before moving to your shorts shredding them too.

He laughed, Moving to the pocket in his overalls “Still missing these?” He waved your underwear in front of you, He brought them to his nose for a moment before hanging them over his cock tugging at himself with them.

Not able to stop the groan coming when you saw him bring them back to his nose. Your core tightening at the sight of him almost naked fucking your panties.

“Mac...Please…” You begged just like the first time. “Please what Y/N?” He grinned knowingly at you.

“Fuck me please Mac...I need you…” You moaned breathily.

“You want this huh?” He dropped your panties to the floor and removed his shirt.

Your eyes wide, Mouth hanging open when you got your first sight of him fully naked. “Holy fuck!”

“Nothing Holy happening in here Y/N this the devils work” He winked. Grabbing both of your feet he flipped you onto your stomach. Using your hips now he pulled your ass into the air and thrusting into you in the same movement.

A scream ripping from your throat as he stretched you wide again. He didn’t take a moment to let you get used to it like he did last time. Just pounded away.

“Look at you! You’re dripping for me you fucked up girl, And So fucking tight still. You won’t be by the time i'm fucking through with you” He growled Your walls clenched at his words. Making him hiss at the extra pressure around his cock. Smacking your ass as hard as he could. You screamed again at the initial pain, Once his hand had left you the heat from the hit turned into instant pleasure making you gush more for him. With how wet you had now become it was easier for him to jackhammer into you at incredible speeds.

“You like that do ya, Filthy whore” He smacked you again on the other side. The pain this time makes you moan. “More” You begged.

“Fuck….Always wanting more, I’ll give you more bitch” He pulled you up by your hair so your back was flush against his chest. Pulling your head to the side he bit down hard on your pulse point. You felt the blood again rolling down your chest.

Gasping you saw stars as the pressure in your heat started to unravel for him.

Moaning loudly for him, When he released you, You fell face first back into the mattress as he gripped your hips bucking harder.

“Fuck...Mac...Mmmm” Your walls started clamp again as you felt the dam inside you burst.

“That’s it Y/N Cum for this cock bitch” He wrapped one hand around your throat tight.

Screaming into the mattress. “Mac...OH FUCK MAC!” He followed straight after, Pulsing into you, your walls gripping tighter to him dragging every drop of his hot cream deep into you.

Your legs giving in now, He collapsed on top of you pushing you into the mattress. Groaning in your ear.

“Maybe i won’t kill you. You keep this up and I’ll be keeping you around Y/N” He got off you slowly.

Redressing and throwing a spare overall at you.

“Get dressed we got shit to do”

When you had pulled the zipper up he led you out and back to his van. You looked between him and the open desert.

Gripping your arm. “You run, Not just now but ever fucking run from me again. I’ll gut you just like that spineless piece of shit. Ya understand?”

Nodding “Mac...Where else would i ever want to be, Your just like me... Fucked up...I need you” Leaning over you gave him a deep kiss. Thrusting you back against the hood of the car he took you again.

You knew now what kind of evil he was now, Although you had to give it to him that he treated you a lot better than Devon treated Regina. He trusted you enough to walk around without him instead of keeping you tied to the bed, Eventually even trusting you enough to help him with work.

His thirst for blood never ceased, He always needed to kill but stopped raping when he had you at home to come back to. Even with everything he had done everything you knew he was capable of doing you fell hard for him. All of it was worth it to be Mac’s Girl

Master List

Tag list

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@one-shot-plus-size

@marvelfansworld

@phoenixblack89

@fuseburner

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@delightfullykrispypeach

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#red canyon #redcanyon #red canyon smut #mac red canyon #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #norman reedus characters #smut fanfiction #fanfiction #brutal fanfiction #dark fanfiction #dark fantasy #norman reedus is a god

[maybebanks]

Stronger

JJ Maybank x Reader

JJ was deeply loyal to his friends, still he had no idea why the right group could accept one new member, you. JJ is always sour to you, being a kook and all. But this summer, something changes.

⚠️:hints to violence

“Jesus, Y/n,” JJ mumbled, the words just seemed to fall out of his mouth without his permission. He shuffled in his seat.

At this Y/n felt insecure. JJ usually put her down, with his snarkey remarks that always landed a place under her skin. She didn’t know why. But she was new to the group, and apparently that was all JJ needed to hate her.

Y/n gripped her iPhone, “What now JJ? You gonna comment on my looks? Or is it the sound of my voice that annoys you?” She snapped.

The group surrounded them, they weren’t new to this kind of bickering between Y/n and JJ.

“Quit it guys,” John B ordered.

“I will, when Y/n quits at life,” JJ joked, but said it in a serious tone.

“Oh fuck off, Maybank,” you groaned, not wanting to insult him any more.

“Ooh? Did-did y’all here that? Y/n just talked back to me?” JJ said, faking shocked.

You rolled your eyes.

“JJ, don’t start,” Pope added. He knew you didn’t like to fight back. You usually never insulted JJ back.

“Nah I wanna hear this! Say it again Y/n!” JJ exclaimed, pointing towards you.

You looked away, tensing up.

“Say it to my face Y/n,” JJ continued, in a threatening manner. JJ thought it was slightly playful. And hoped you wouldn’t know the reason why he was actually picking on you.

“Leave me alone JJ,” you muttered, moving closer to John B sitting next to you.

“Y/n, tell me, have you always been this much of a pussy? Or are you just afraid of me?” JJ taunted.

“Watch your mouth, asshole,” you insulted.

“Make me,” he snapped, leaning closer to you. Towering over you.

JJ smirked, “you wanna know what I think? I think you, being a waste of space and all, would be easily forgotten if you just..hm pulled a Scooter Grubbs,”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t deal with you right now,”

“You’re gonna leave?! Expected,” JJ chuckled.

“It’s not worth it,” you muttered, heading out the door.

“JJ why do you have to be such a dumbass?” Pope said, but JJ was just motivated by this. Feeling disappointed that the fight didn’t go as planned.

He followed you outside, you were by the Pogue, grabbing your backpack.

You heard footsteps and immediately perked up, “god, what is wrong with you?” you groaned.

“I was thinking...” he began.

“Look, I don’t give a fuck. So please get out of my way,” you gestured towards him, there was minimal space on the dock.

“Not until you give me what I want,” JJ shrugs.

You gulped, stepping backwards, “JJ, let’s talk tomorrow,”

JJ knew you were intimidated, it wasn’t just his height that scared you.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” JJ scoffed, giving you a dirty look.

“Whatever,” you muttered, trying to walk past him. You were restricted when he grabbed your arm

“Let go of me,” you said, pulling away lightly.

“No. I want you to fight back,” JJ blurted. Still holding you tight.

“I’m not gonna fight you,” you said, pulling away hard enough to be released.

JJ ran a hand through his hair while taking a sharp breath in, then he stepped towards you. Shoving your shoulders with force, not enough to make you fall.

“The fuck!” You shouted, and now triggered and annoyed. But you couldn’t fight him. So you calmed your breathing.

“Fight BACK!” He shouted. He wanted to be insulted. He wanted to be punished.

“I-..what? I can’t!”

“I know you’ve got a mouth on ya! Insult me!” He demanded.

“No. Just let me go. Please,” you continued.

“No!” He screamed, then he stepped forward towards you and in one motion, he grabbed your face with one hand, forcing your eyes up to him.

He studied you, you were frozen, but still remained composed.

“You never fight back, it’s like you think your better than me. Why.” JJ spits.

“Im not gonna fight you-“ you repeated.

“Why?” JJ interrupted.

“Because...your stronger than me,” you shrugged.

JJ backer up, he was slightly confused. He knew you could tell anyone off. But you never tried with JJ. He wanted to know why he was different. He wanted to know why no matter how much of a dick he was to you, you wouldn’t insult him back.

“Stronger than...like physically?” JJ asked.

You look at the wood below you, still standing on the dock.

“Look...I don’t pity you JJ. But when I found out about your Dad, I-“

“Hold up. Who...what the fuck is there to know?” He defended. He was mad someone told you, he was mad that someone he, deep down wanted to impress, knew his biggest insecurity.

“JJ,” you sighed.

“What? Who told you?!” He exclaimed.

“No one...” you lied, not wanting to get John B in trouble.

“Stop fuckin lying,” he said angerly.

“You’re...you’re scaring me,” you croaked out.

“Fine. Then leave,” he stated, he was still clearly angry, you noticed his jaw clenching.

You were afraid that if you moved, he’d snap.

“Just know you’re fucking dead to me,” JJ whispered, but you heard him.

You frowned, but understood that now he probobly wanted you to leave. You walked around 6 feet past him. When you turned around.

He hadn’t moved, he was staring off into the distance.

You watched him for a moment, ruffled his hair a bit, then kicked some rock that was on the dock. You heard him mutter small things like “fuck.”

“Me doing this,” you spoke up, “doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you,”

JJ didn’t turn around to face you yet.

“We don’t deserve that shit,” you admitted.

JJ furrowed his brows, that was enough for him to turn around, “we? We are nothing alike.”

You frowned, but instead, slowly, you pulled at the hem of your t shirt, to reveal purple and blue marks the size of a fist on your torso.

“How the fuck you get those?” He asked, slightly calmer. He wasn’t connecting the dots.

“I should go,” you replied. Turning around and heading past the house.

JJ jogged over to you. You gasped when he touch your shoulder to turn you around.

When you looked at his face, it was softer now.

“Just because I don’t like you, doesn’t mean I can’t beat the shit out of someone for you,” JJ told you.

You noticed he was trying to help, but he couldn’t.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it under control,” you answered, starting to walk away again, he jogged infront of you.

“Was it Rafe? I swear to God I’ll kill him,” JJ muttered.

“Um..fuck..I shouldn’t have told you...just, in the moment...” you started to panic, you hadn’t thought of the consequences in that moment. What reckless JJ would do to protect his friends or anyone labeled in his friend group.

“I’m glad I know,” he answered, nonchalantly.

You felt sick suddenly, you didn’t want JJ to have another reason to hate kooks.

“JJ...wait...these,” you paused to point to your hip, “they’re just from me being clumsy...I fall like all the time-“ you stopped when he starting closing the space between you two.

He didn’t say anything, he just was walking closer. You weren’t intimidated at that moment. You sensed the comfort JJ was offering.

The truth was, you were a kook, who decided to become a pogue. And some of the kooks hated you for it. So, Rafe and Kelce sometimes would pick on you, and when they were high it would escalate. Sometimes even that plug Barry got involved.

You didn’t want tell anyone your problem and JJs was much worse.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

For JJ, he felt less broken. If someone was going through similar pain.

“I should go,” you pushed him by his chest gently. To create some distance.

“Right. You want me to walk you home?” JJ offered, it was weird, kindness coming from him.

“Uh...” you contemplated, JJ placed his hand on your bare shoulder. It was meant to be comforting. But him putting himself up for you, even though he was struggling finally hit you, and your eyes stung, starting to water.

“Just let me walk you home!” Rafe smirked. You were alone with him. Outside the country club, in the dark parking lot.

“Please don’t do this. Not tonight,” you pleaded.

“Why?” He paused to grab your hip, “going surfing what the Pogues? Your such a slut you wanna wear a bikini?” He seethed. His face so close to yours.

“Stop!” You shouted, but that angered him more. Then, he covered your mouth with his rough hand. Sending a powerful punch to your side.

“You know how you end this, Y/n. Just say you’ll do it,” he taunted.

“Never.”

“No. I’ll be fine thanks,” you shook your head. Wiping the tears away quickly.

“Can I at least walk you past the driveway?” He asked. JJ really wanted to apologize for how he’s been treating you. It was his own defense mechanism to hide his feelings for you. But now, he couldn’t apologize, it’s not who he was.

He would make it up to you with his actions.

You sighed, “is really hot today, don’t you think?” You said, making conversation.

JJ nodded, his boots dragging against the gravel as he joined you walking.

The uneasy feeling in your gut remained, even after JJ was talking about the plans for the rest of the summer.

“And what about midsummers? You still going to that?” JJ asked.

You didn’t even notice you stopped walking, until JJ gave you a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You brushed him off. Just shaking your head and not saying anything.

After you both started walking past the driveway you frowned.

“JJ, you should leave. I don’t want you to get hurt,” you blurted.

“Me? Why are you always worried about everyone but yourself?” JJ scoffed.

“Why are you?” You retaliated, “it’s not up for discussion. They have numbers,” you said.

“They? What the hell are you talking about?!” He shouted, now angry.

“JJ. I’m not going to ask you again. Leave,” you demanded.

He didn’t respond because the sound of an approaching engine could be heard from down the road.

When you looked up you recognized it. They were slowing.

Your instinct was to run. But JJ stood still.

“JJ, let’s go! What are you doing?” You asked frantically.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

“No...JJ don’t do this. Let’s run!” You pleaded, tugging at his bicep.

“They hurt you, they hurt me.”

Part ii

#jj maybank #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks #obx netflix #jj imagine jjxreader obx #obx jj #obx jj maybank x you #outerbanks #jj outer banks #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x female reader #outerbanks fanfic #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jjmaybank love #outerbanks angst

[shurisneakers]

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible. 

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees. 

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were. 

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.  

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen. 

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it. 

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.  

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

#sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #mcu fic #sam fic #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #sam wilson series #falcon #falcon x reader #the falcon x reader #hitman!sam wilson #hitman!au #shut in fic #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #sam wilson #the falcon #sam wilson fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam imagine

[unbridgeabledistances]

a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot

okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)

hope y’all enjoy<3

--

Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.

Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.

“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”

Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room’s decor and let out a laugh.

“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”

Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.

“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.

Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.

“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”

Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”

At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.

And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”

Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”

Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.

“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”

Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.

But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.

And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”

Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.

“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…

Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.

Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.

“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”

Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”

And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.

**

Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.

Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.

All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.

Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.

And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.

Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.

“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.

“D’you wanna dance with me?”

Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”

Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.

“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”

Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.

Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.

“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.

Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.

He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.

But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.

Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.

Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.

Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.

And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.

“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”

Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.

“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.

Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”

Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”

Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”

Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.

Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”

Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.

Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It’s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”

It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.

Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.

“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.

Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”

#did i read this before posting it???? nope #this is so silly but was also living RENT FREE in my brain #also this is temporally separated from the last ep lol bc i do not have it in me to write anything heavy this week #drunk happy husbands only !!!! #🙅🏻‍♂️‼️ #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian and mickey #ixm #gallavich fanfiction

[howdoyousleep3]

Miss K! Have you seen ozarkthedog’s edits of silverfox Senator Chris??? Reminded me of silverfox Senator Rogers oh god and I just know he’s gonna treat little itty bitty baby Intern Bucky so right 😍

YES I am finally getting to this, wowza. First, we must quite literally soak in @ozarkthedog​‘s gorgeous edits, let us drool.

W O W. 

Okay, so keeping those in mind here are some Intern Bucky and Silver Fox Senator thoughts...

This Senator Rogers has known he’s wanted Bucky since the interview, fresh eyes and bubbly spirit and sharp tongue, “You’ll bring somethin’ special to this team, kid…”

Mr. Rogers is all direct touches, wandering eyes, slick lips. He is squeezes on the back of Bucky’s neck, hot praise on his ear, proud eyes. The Senator is obvious, so much so that Bucky questions if what he is experiencing is indeed what he thinks it is or if this is the same treatment everyone else receives

It isn’t

One late evening proves just that. A one-on-one meeting, a lingering hand on Bucky’s waist that pulls him in tight between Senator Rogers’ thighs after a few tense seconds

A whispered, “Hear an awful lot’a hissin’ and spittin’ comin’ out of that mouth, Barnes. I’ve been wonderin’ if it’s possible for it to be sweet. God, it’s gotta be sweet sometimes, right? Look at it…” and a swipe of a thumb along his bottom lip is all it takes for Bucky’s insides to crumble and fall apart

He didn’t stand a chance against such an advancement

It was the, “Feisty bratty boys like you love callin’ a man like me ‘Daddy’. Ain’t that right, honey?” that sent him dick-first into this whirlwind secret physical relationship with Senator Rogers

Getting involved with his much older boss is simultaneously the worst and best thing that has ever happened to Bucky. He is both the dumbest but the most well-fucked he will ever be in his life

Bucky earned this scholarship and position, fought for it with his test scores, his grades, his involvement in the community and at school. He has tenacity, shows grit, fights for all things just. But get him on his knees in front of Senator Rogers and that rich and smooth voice, skilled hands, and high expectations, and Bucky is one dumb fuck

Mr. Rogers, Daddy, has rules, has expectations that he will not waiver on, will not soften on. Steve is a hard Daddy, only gives Bucky praise and reward when Bucky deserves it, tells Bucky to do better when he doesn’t. He runs a tight ship, both within this thing they have going and outside of that realm, in his career and office

Bucky’s favorite rule, and the one he has trouble with the most, is eye contact

No matter what Bucky is doing (sucking the Senator off as he continues diligently working at his desk, going sweet settled between those thighs with his mouth full, bouncing in the Senator’s lap and fucking himself on that fat cock) Mr. Rogers always expects Bucky’s eyes to be on him

“Wanna see you lookin’ at me any time I look at you. Daddy wants to see what he does to you, baby. Can you do that for me? Hmm, practice?”

Bucky tucked between the Senator’s legs behind the older man’s desk, putting his mouth to work, lazy and long strokes and suckles just like Mr. Rogers said he wanted. Bucky’s eyelids so very heavy, whimpering each time the Senator clicks his tongue or snaps his finger, pinches Bucky’s ear

Senator Rogers says training Bucky is his “goddamn favorite” because Bucky always wants to fight, is quick to retaliate, wants to snap and bite and throw a fit, “but with Daddy you wouldn’t fuckin’ dare. Know you’re gonna be sweet just for me…”

The Senator training Bucky to properly deepthroat his cock was remarkably memorable, something that Bucky touched himself for weeks and months to come, something that was so very intense

Daddy is big, and Bucky can take big, but Daddy is thick, very much so, toe-curlingly so. Bucky had made the mistake of scoffing, of rolling his eyes and dismissing Daddy’s warnings

He ended up sputtering around a mouthful of cock, drool on his chin, tears in his eyes, Daddy telling him to “hold it, hold it. Whats’a matter, sugar? Thought you said you could take it...” 

Bucky has never wanted to be good for anyone. He prides himself in his confidence, the fight that courses through each and every bone in his body. He’s never met someone that makes him yearn to be good, to be sweet, but Bucky wants to do everything right for Mr. Rogers

There’s nothing better when the Senator purrs, hums, when he curses low under his breath, when Bucky makes him come just like the older man told him to

There’s nothing sweeter when he refers to Bucky as “kitten”, when Bucky gets cockdrunk and his sweet lil’ brain dissolves like cotton candy in a puddle 

“S’a boy, there you go. Just love keepin’ Daddy’s dick wet, don’t you? Look how dumb you are for it. Yeah lemme have you, lemme have all’a you, come on…”

Nothing but the best for Daddy, absolutely nothing less, taps on Bucky’s cheeks, his thighs when he is caught slipping up 

Which happens a lot because Daddy can last so fucking long

This Daddy has stamina, this Daddy fucks for pleasure, prolongs it as long as he can. He has such control over his body that it makes Bucky’s own feel like it’s been put through the ringer after Daddy is done using it 

“Look at that,” Steve tends to say, hands spreading Bucky’s ass cheeks apart, a looker. “That’s a happy boy pussy right there, ain’t it, Buck? All that pretty pink, tight and warm all for me, huh? Yeah, know it is, s’right. This pussy hungry? S’it ready to be fed, is it ready for Daddy to fuck it full?” 

There is absolutely nothing Senator Rogers loves more than seeing the aftermath of their fuck. He never fails to grip Bucky’s chin, to give him a good once-over and a hot kiss, after he pulls himself out of Bucky’s body

Bucky is well-trained, knows to stay where he is once Daddy pulls out, no matter how messy he feels

Daddy’s purrs and sighs and curses as he sits and watches his come drip out of Bucky’s pussy, down his balls, down his thigh, bring Bucky far too much joy

"Fuck, that’s nice. Show me, show Daddy all of it, c’mon. You know what I like to see,” are shamefully Bucky’s favorite moments, where he lays in whatever position he is in and works the Senator’s come from his ass, where Steve rumbles and plays with him, plays with Bucky’s bitty hole and his own come, occasionally dropping his head down and using his mouth to continue to savor and enjoy the remnants of their fuck

This tends to be Bucky’s favorite moment for another reason as well, where he’s rewarded if he’s done a good job. Sometimes Senator Rogers leaves him waiting, leaves him hard, but other times he touches Bucky, hot and heavy, tells him he can come for being so good 

Bucky is to always say thank you as he comes, always squeals it as Daddy milks him for what he’s worth, “thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy...!” 

There’s always a debrief, always skin-on-skin contact, always a discussion of what was acceptable and what can be improved upon. It always leaves Bucky wanting to do better, looking forward to the next time the Senator gets to coach Bucky through a fuck...

Lord have mercy this got away from me. I hope these thoughts suffice! Similar yet a little different than my normal Senator. A little more filthy but more strict, hehe. No projection here, no no...👀 Thank you, nonnie! Also, another thank you to @ozarkthedog! 💕✨💖