#jesus CHRIST i hate these fucking streaming services

[sagechan]

HBOMAX REMOVED BEN 10: ALIEN FORCE AND BEN 10: ULTIMATE ALIEN AND BEN 10: OMNIVERSE I'M GONNA STORM THEIR HEADQUARTERS I'M GONNA RIOT I'M GONNA MAIM BITE TEAR RIP KILL WHAT THE FUCK

[ladyshinga]

I LOATHE the way streaming service leadership views their own audience. I saw an article just now about how "disappointing" the viewership numbers were for a new Netflix series. My stupidly reasonable ass assumed it'd be one that's been out at LEAST a couple months. Nope. TWO. DAYS. IT'S BEEN TWO FUCKING DAYS. A holiday day, no less, the one the US makes THE biggest gd deal about! People have been traveling! Spending time with people! They're GODDAMN BUSY

EVEN IF IT WASN'T A HOLIDAY, IT'S BEEN TWO. *DAYS*.

Jesus christ I hate these people. Your damn viewership is made up of human beings with lives and schedules and work and family and other hobbies. Stop expecting them to master the art of time and space so they can pause reality and make time for your fucking TV show in the ridiculously short amount of allotted time you think they need

[absurdthirst]

The Valentine's Dom {Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: Dom/Sub dynamics, use of safe words, bondage, gagging, oral (male and female receiving), flogging, pussy slapping, derogatory language, semi-public sex, mentions of anal, sex toys

Comments: Professor Tovar hates anything modern, especially technology. Making you insult him at every turn when he scoffs at your modern methods to teach. Archaic and stuck in his ways, you are surprised to find a different side to he medieval professor at the Valentine's dance your college throws every year.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

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.

"Jesus Christ, Tovar. Get some coffee, will ya?" William shakes his head at his colleague/friend. 

Pero grumbles, pouring out the sludge that the university calls 'coffee'. He huffs and looks down at the pink cup in his hand. His own had gone missing, maybe buried under a pile of papers he has to grade, and he just grabbed the first one his fingers touched, not knowing it's yours. You are a professor of Mythology. In the history department alongside Pero and William who both teach East Asian and European histories respectively. Pero always had an interest in Eastern Asia, visiting China many times during his college years to learn more about the culture and the history. After serving in the Spanish military, he spent years researching and writing papers on his findings in Asia, earning him respect and admiration from the historical community, until he eventually found his place teaching in NYU. 

"Your accent grates on me this early in the morning." Tovar retorts back to William, leaning against the counter in the break room.

“Everything grates on you this early in the morning.” William teases, smirking at the dark glare that Tovar throws him. “I don’t know how you were in the military and didn’t get in trouble for your horrible morning attitude. Or just your attitude.” Tovar has a very prevalent reputation of being a grouch. So much so that he was routinely bet against as the first professor to drop a kid from his class. The stern man not tolerating a lot of the bullshit some college students believe they can get away with. “Have you looked over the new grading system?” Will asks, changing the subject and hopefully not earning another growled threat of bodily harm.

“Don’t fucking mention that bullshit. Why does everything have to go through a computer nowadays? What happened to good old pen and paper? We teach history. They didn’t have this - this technology in their day and yet we are subjected to it because it’s standard practice. It’s ridiculous.” Tovar growls, taking another sip of the coffee before he pulls the mug away and scowls at it, “who does this mug belong to?” He asks, not recognizing the cute little green alien character on it. “What is a Grogu?” He asks William.

What is a Grogu? You snort when you walk into the breakroom, giving the Spaniard a withering glare. “He’s a cute little baby from The Mandalorian.” You tell him, annoyed that he’s stolen your coffee mug. Tovar just stares at you and you try again. “That show on Disney Plus? It’s everywhere? The Star Wars show?”

“I have heard of Star Wars but Disney Plus? What is that?” He asks, mystified. 

You chuckle, “it’s a streaming service. Like Netflix.” 

Pero shakes his head, “I don’t like streaming services. Too complicated. Too many subscriptions and then you can never find anything to watch. I have cable. Just cable. You press the channel button, the volume button and on and off. It’s simple. None of this streaming bullshit.” He says, displaying his disdain for technology once again.

William chuckles, used to his friends rants about technology and there was just no use for all of it . “Yeah but you still have the internet, don’t you?” He teases, making the other man scowl at him viciously. Aware of why he was ribbing him and unwilling to talk about that around you. 

“Shut up amigo, before you wear my coffee.” He growls, making you shake your head. 

“Jesus, Tovar. You are such a dinosaur.” You huff. “I think you would rather live in the times you teach about.”

"What's so wrong about that? They survived or they died. There was no coddling like they do now, these kids are soft. They whine if their internet goes out. No gumption. The internet has made people soft and I use it only when I absolutely must. Those times...they were survival of the fittest." 

William snorts, "until you die of syphilis...oh wait...you'd actually have to get laid to get that." William jokes and Tovar narrows his eyes at him. 

“Shut up, pendejo." 

You press your lips together, smirking at William’s barb. “Perhaps if you weren’t such a grumpy ass, maybe one of your students would want to sleep with you?” You offer, grinning at him. “You know, for extra credit?” You’ve heard the comments about the hot but scary professor. Tovar scowls at you like you suggested running through the dean’s office naked. “Or not.” You shrug. “Can I have my coffee mug back?”

Pero huffs, downing the rest of his coffee,  “let me wash it out for you first, hermosa.” He says and takes the mug over to the sink, grabbing the dish soap to wash the rim of the mug and the inside, making sure it’s pristine and dry when he hands it back to you. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” He says, “I have to get to class.” He murmurs, ignoring the way his stomach twists when your fingers brush his when you take the coffee cup back from him.

You frown slightly when he calls you beautiful. “You’re welcome.” You offer after he’s already turned back around to move away. Tovar is barely ever civil, having called your class ‘meaningless drivel’ several times. Instead of asking if he’s feeling okay, you simply move over to the coffee pot. “Ready for the new semester?” You ask, more William than Pero because you know he won’t answer you anyway.

William nods, "yeah. Too many fucking drop outs to file. Guess no one likes European history?" He snorts and Pero smirks, "maybe if you stopped doing an entire semester on the potato famine, amigo." 

William huffs, "the fucking British crown led to-" 

"Okay, okay." You get in between them, knowing Garin will stand there all day if you let him rant about his Irish history. 

"I should get in there. I want to be early. Intimidation is the best way to filter them out early." Pero says seriously, knowing that some students take his class thinking it's an easy A.

You snort. “You could always have fun with your class, Tovar.” You suggest. “It’s about teaching them things they wouldn’t get from letting their class course sit idle on their computers.” You know very well that Tovar doesn’t do online books. He’s very hands-on and has even had to provide the books for his class because they are no longer published. “You know, a power point would go a long way.”

"Absolutely not. I have the whiteboard and the textbooks. I don't need anything else. Maybe the projector at times but nothing else." He is adamant. If he uses technology, then his students will simply be on their laptops fucking around and not listening to him. "fun won't get them into their chosen career, will it? I am simply teaching them life skills."

You roll your eyes, not subscribing to that mentality at all. “That’s fine.” You huff, taking a sip of your coffee now that you’ve doctored to your liking. “Most of the kids who drop out of your class pick up mine.”

“Good for you. Taking my leftovers.” He chuckles, “I only teach the ones who want to learn. I’m not here to babysit.” He scoffs and crosses his arms, “you might enjoy babysitting but that’s not for me.”

You huff, rolling your eyes at his mentality. “I enjoy teaching people about mythology, it’s not babysitting. The kids in my class are just as challenged as yours.”

“Well, you give them online tests and quizzes, señorita. Do you not suspect they are cheating?” He raises his eyebrows when you don’t respond. “Exactly. There’s no cheating in my class. It’s old school. Just how I like it.”

You roll your eyes again and sigh. “Whatever, Tovar. Go live in your cave and I’ll run my class how I see fit.” You snark, sending William a grin. “Enjoy your first day of class, gentleman.”

Pero watches you go, pleased he won this round with you. You’re always trying to mock his old fashioned ways but he won’t let you win. He knows his class is hard but it prepares his students for their future careers. “You’re gonna end up together. You know that, right?” William teases Pero who wrinkles his nose. 

“She’s the last woman I’d want. She’s too…opinionated.” He lies slightly, knowing you are gorgeous and smart but you clash with him too much and he won’t be the one to give in in this feud you have going on.

You huff to yourself as you walk down the hall to your lecture hall. Why you let Pero goad you, you’ll never understand. The man reeks of superiority complexes and caveman antics. Obviously not someone you should even consider a friend, let alone speak to outside your role as a colleague. “Fuck him.” You hiss to yourself as you shake your head. He’s not going to make you change the way you run your class, just like it will be a cold day in hell when he changes his own ways.

When the students filter in for his class, Pero stands tall and grabs the chalk, starting to write down the notes for today's lesson. He knows that a lot of his students think he’s old fashioned, even down to his loafers and blazers but he doesn’t care. He likes things a certain way and that won’t change.

Your first day goes exceedingly well. Every class, you have the students fill out a little questionnaire online about them. It’s just highlights that might be helpful if they need some additional help with your course load. The syllabus is acknowledged by all students and you’ve directed them to the site where all your lectures are uploaded so no one had to spend time copying down notes instead of engaging. You want them to think, to question. Humming happily, you watch the last class of the day file out of your room.

****

A month into the semester and Tovar is already exhausted. His hand aches from writing for hours every day on the whiteboard and then grading. He’s burning the candle as he sits there after hours, grading his latest test. His glasses are perched on his nose and he rubs his cheek while he takes a break. “Mierda.” He grunts, standing up and deciding to get a coffee from the break room.

Office hours have run over, making it a long day for you. It’s the longest of the week, but everything is going well, several of your students coming to you to make sure they were on track. Sighing to yourself, you carry your coffee mug to the break room to wash out for tomorrow. You frown when you hear someone moving around, most of the staff having gone home for the night. “Tovar? What are you doing here?” You ask, walking in to find the Spaniard fighting with the coffee machine.

“Busy grading papers. Trying to figure out that new damn system they have forced us into. They won't accept my handwritten grades anymore. Told me I have to join the 21st century.” He scoffs, knowing that he might be antiquated but at least he isn’t stuck in his phone all day, looking at mindless shit. “Why are you here so late?” He asks, turning back to the coffee machine and failing to handle it. “Pendejo.” He growls at the machine, knowing he’s missing a step with the new machine. Why can’t they stick to the pot of coffee that goes stale after a few hours? Now it’s a Keurig with pods and he’s confused.

You snicker and decide to show him some pity. “Let me.” You nudge him out of the way and open the top of the coffee maker to pop a pod on. “Look, it's easy.” His coffee mug on the tray, you close the lid and press a button to start his coffee. “My office hours ran over late tonight.” You admit as you turn back towards him with a smug grin on your face, proud that you could work the coffee maker for him. “Was just coming to clean my coffee cup and go home.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He insists, knowing it’s dark outside and no one is really around. He might not agree with your teaching methods but he wants you to be safe. 

“Oh, you don’t -” You shake your head but he cuts you off.

“I do.” He grabs his coffee, “go get your things and I’ll put my coffee on my desk. I’ll meet you at the door. It’s freezing out there so you’d better not have parked too far away.” He half jokes with you, walking off before you can argue to get his coat and set his coffee down.

Huffing to yourself about his completely gruff, yet sweet gesture, you quickly clean your coffee mug and go back to your office to grab your coat and bag. Halfway expecting him not to be in the hallway when you come out and lock your door.

Tovar pulls his coat closer around his form, readying himself for the bitter cold. Keys in hand, he opens the door for you and lets you guide him to your car. 

“It’s close.” You promise and he grunts when you walk him clear across the parking lot. 

“You and I have a different interpretation of close, hermosa.” He snorts, breath visible in the cold.

“And no one asked you to walk me out.” You retort, irritated that he could manage to make a sweet gesture seem like a chore. Your car keys are out and you click the key to open the doors, the car already turned on and warming up for the past five minutes. Although you still wonder why he calls you hermosa. “Why do you call me that?” You ask, looking over at him as he rounds his shoulders for warmth. “Hermosa. You didn’t last year.”

Pero narrows his eyes, trying to remember if he called you that or not. “I, uh, you know what it means?” He asks, trying to keep his face as impassive as possible. 

“Yes. It means beautiful.” You respond coolly and Pero wants to curse himself but he remains calm. 

“Well, would you rather me call you fea?” He retorts, a little harshly. Why couldn’t you accept the compliment and let it go? You’re always pushing him.

You stiffen, any chance of civil conversation lost. As if you had one with Tovar. “Sure.” You snarl, snatching your door open and shoving your bag into the passenger seat. “Have a good night, cabrón.” You climb into the car and slam the door, the idea of offering to drive him back across the parking lot vanishing under the fact the man is as bristly as a pissed off porcupine.

Pero sighs, knowing you’re pissed at him but it’s better this way. He’s damaged goods and there’s no way you’d like what he’s capable of, what he likes. He knows you’re a strong, independent woman. You would not be able to handle his…peculiarities. He shivers, making his way back across the parking lot to go back in and finish his grading. His coffee is cold and he curses it but he can’t go back and get another one. He didn’t pay attention when you showed him how to use the machine. He was too busy watching you.

Even though you spent far too much time irritated than you should have the night before, you come into work ready to just ignore the temperamental Spaniard. Tired of dealing with his surliness, you vow to just not speak to him unless you have to during staff meetings. “Morning.” You murmur to William, purposefully not looking at where Pero is pouring over his grade book.

Tovar knows you’re annoyed with him. He even had Garin show him how to use the damn coffee machine so he didn’t have to ask you again. You would’ve made fun of him and his jaw would’ve ticked. You are cocky sometimes, smart as a whip but your occasional arrogance grates on him. “Morning.” William greets you, glancing between you and his friend. “You ready for the upcoming Valentine's dance?” William asks you, knowing you tend to be on the committee for the sweetheart dance that occurs every year. It can get rowdy so all staff are asked to attend.

You huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you set up your own coffee cup. “Oh absolutely, what’s not to love? Watching horny college kids grind on each other and get shit house drunk. Or having them hit on me in horrible fashion.” You shake your head. “One kid last year told me that I needed to spank him and he’d let me dominate him.” That one had made you giggle. “Someone has mommy issues and I will not be the one to exercise them for him.”

William guffaws and Pero snorts in amusement at you dominating anyone. You might be arrogant but when it comes to it, he knows you’re all talk. “Well, the good news is that Tovar here is chaperoning too.” William announces and you and Pero both say “what?” 

William smirks, “didn’t I tell you I put your name on the list?” 

Pero growls at the mischievous look on his friend’s face. “Pendejo.” He growls out his warning.

Your jaw rocks slightly as you fix your coffee with sugar and creamer. “Too bad you are not chaperoning, William.” You murmur, taking a sip and sighing at the perfect taste. “I’m sure the girls would rather moon over you than be glared at like being young is a crime.” You cut your eyes over to Tovar but you don’t say anything to him. “I would have shared my liquor with you.”

Pero rolls his eyes, focusing back on his grades, “it’s not smart to drink in that situation, hermosa. Especially around those stupid college boys. You know they all jerk off over you in their dorm rooms. You should be careful.” He warns you, having heard the comments and he hates the fact that he wanted to shut their mouths.

You grit your teeth, wanting to snap at him that you aren’t the idiot that he thinks you are. You never drink during the fucking party. “Thanks Daddy, I’ll keep that in mind.” You keep your voice sugary sweet before you turn on your heels and march out of the break room.

Fuck, Pero’s cock twitches and he is glad to be sitting down as you stride out of the room. His eyes focus on your ass as you storm out of the room. “She needs to be put in her place.” Pero grumbles and William grins, knowing that his friend doesn’t mean that in the way it sounds. 

“Sure thing, man. You need to just tell her what you want.” William says, grabbing his coffee and making his way to his office. Pero rolls his eyes at his friend, knowing he’s messing with him. He should go and take his name off of the chaperone list but he won’t. He knows he needs to go and look out for you.

All week you’ve been giving Tovar the silent treatment, not that the man cared or even noticed. He was too busy being flustered by the new grading system that they put in place. Which you secretly snickered about since you’ve had no problem putting it in use, finding the system easy to use. Now though, you can’t avoid him. The dance is about to start and you look around at all the students starting to pour into the space. Your own dress is a little flirty, a red wrap number that made you feel slightly better about being single for yet another year. The black lingerie underneath was for yourself since you had no one to show it to. Tovar walks up to you and you can’t resist holding out your insulated cup to him. “Vodka?” You offer, knowing damn well that it’s water.

Pero knows you better than that. You look like a heartbreaker in that red dress and he knows half the boys in this room will be jerking off thinking about you later…himself included if he’s being completely honest. William is glaringly absent tonight, taking his wife on a date. “I can’t let the General down.” William joked with Pero, using the playfully nickname for his wife. 

“You look beautiful.” Pero says, wanting to give you a compliment.

You blink at him for a few seconds, sure that you’ve misheard him. Pulling back the cup, you bite your lip, flustered by the compliment. “Thanks….” You murmur. “You look, uh, good too.” You offer, seeing what all the girls are talking about. His dark slacks and maroon shirt look good, fitted to his broad frame and he’s slicked his hair back. The scar over his left eye makes him seem even more dangerous now.

Pero tries to not react, just shoves his hands in his pockets while you stand there, watching the young adults grind sloppily against each other while hip hop music plays out. “They call this shit music?” Pero scoffs, turning to look at you again. “You got a date after this?” He asks, wondering if the black lace he spots under the wrap dress is for someone he doesn’t know about.

“If eating pizza on my couch while watching a shitty romcom by myself counts as a date.” You joke, before you turn the question around. “How about you? You look like you’re going out on the prowl after this. Does the grumpy, foreboding professor have a date?”

Tovar smirks, shaking his head. “Why? Would you be jealous if I did?” He teases, pleased that you don’t have a date. He rocks on his feet, trying to get with the beat but it’s nothing like the easy listening radio he has on in his car. 70s and 80s tunes to enjoy and actually hear the lyrics unlike this nonsense. The club music is what makes him feel ancient.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff playfully. “Why would I be jealous? You hate me, that’s clear.” It hurts because you’ve never actually done anything to him beyond trade barbs, but that was life. “If you have a date, maybe you can get laid and not be such a cabrón tomorrow.” One kid stumbles nearby, capturing your attention as you try to determine if the guy is already plastered, but it seems like it’s more that he’s clumsy than anything so you relax. Taking a sip of water, you watch all the kids having fun, starting to move your hip slightly to the beat.

"I never said I hated you." Pero huffs, not turning to look at you as he watches the kids grinding and getting way too close but it's college so he doesn't give a fuck. "I don't hate you." He adds, turning to look you in the eye. "I find you...complicated."

“Complicated….” You raise a brow and wonder why he thinks you’re more complicated than any other woman or person on the planet. “Sorry for being complicated.” You feel oddly judged and for some reason it hurts. Why you care what Tovar thinks of you, you don’t know. “I am just trying to navigate a world that is still severely male dominated and not be walked over professionally.”

“You are incredible at your job. You allow silly things to distract you. Like the emotions of the students. You’re there to teach, not to nurture. This isn’t kindergarten, they are old enough to manage their feelings. You are smart, strong…sexy.” Pero reveals, turning his gaze back to the crowd, “it’s frustrating to see you not reach your full potential because you hold yourself back. You could be the head of the department in a couple of years. You have the potential. You need to stop dating those fools that upset you and focus on yourself, on what’s important to you. Or find a partner who helps you get where you need to go.” He finishes his speech, knowing this is possibly the most he’s ever said to you but he means every word. You are incredible and it frustrates him how you don’t focus and reach your potential. You allow yourself to be distracted. He’s overheard you telling the women about your failed dates, how lackluster they were in and out of bed.

Your jaw drops, shocked to have heard an almost impassioned speech from the man who used grunting as a form of communication. “It’s easy for you to say ‘find a partner’.” You snort. “I’ve yet to find a man who can be dominant and yet also agree that my life shouldn’t revolve around him. That every night I shouldn’t be kneeling on the floor waiting for him with his dinner ready.” You had a need to be taken care of, to submit, but never found a man worthy of it. “And don’t tell me to try the BDSM clubs around here, all of them think it’s some 50 Shades roleplay.”

Pero’s eyes widen, eyebrows raising at the words that just came out of your mouth. You’re submissive. Something he wouldn’t have guessed considering how strong willed you are. “Yeah? You’re looking for a modern dom?” Pero leans closer so he can whisper in your ear. “Someone who treats you as an equal outside of the bedroom and someone who treats you like the needy little whore you are in the bedroom?” He knows you could slap him but he’s willing to take the chance.

His words send a shiver through your entire body, making your cunt clench deliciously as you imagine Pero growling orders at you, at just that pitch. You inhale softly, turning to look at him. Your lips are inches away from his but you can’t kiss him, he’s your co-worker. “Too bad there’s nothing modern about you, Tovar.” You whisper back. “I think you would have been good at it.”

Pero smirks, seeing the way your pupils dilate, “just because I’m not a fan of technology and the social bullshit that brings doesn’t mean I’m a man who expects a woman to run around after me. I don’t want a housewife, I want a partner. I want someone who lets me own them in the bedroom but stands beside me in the classroom. I don’t want a mouse, I want a woman who knows what she wants and understands me. Don’t judge me by my teaching methods, hermosa.”

It’s true that you have judged him by his teaching methods, sure that he is just as archaic as they are. “So don’t judge me for being tech savvy. Just because I use our new grading system and am perceived to be a strong woman doesn’t mean I don’t want to be spanked until I cry and then have my clit rubbed while being told I’m a good girl.”

Pero’s nostrils flare and he stares at you, eyes darkening as he imagines how sweet your cries would be. The mercy you’d beg for when he spanks you. The way you’d moan his name when he finally gives you what you want. “If you want that, I can provide that. All you need to do is be waiting at my office door after the party is over. If I stand here any longer, I’m going to drag you off to my classroom and fuck you on my desk and I’m sure neither of us want to jeopardise our careers for our baser instincts. I’ll be on the other side of the room. If you’re not outside my office after, I’ll understand and have no hard feelings. If you are there, I’ll take you to my house, tie you to my bed and edge you until you’re begging to cum. Then I’ll make you cum until you beg me to stop.” He promises, whispering in your ear and letting his breath wash over your cheek before he pulls back and strides across the room, discreetly adjusting his semi.

Fuck. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and your clit is throbbing as you think about what he just said to you. Imagining how good it would feel to finally have a man take control and let you submit like you need to. You hastily take a sip of your water, amazed how he looks so unaffected by what he just proposed. He looks bored, or angry. Biting your lip, you look at your watch, a few hours left for the party and you already wish they were over.

Pero stands on the other side of the room, sipping his water and he keeps an eye on the college kids who are basically dry humping at this point. He snorts and glances around until he sees a senior walk over to you, holding his hand out. Pero clenches his jaw, eager to see what your reaction is.

You hesitate before you take Brian’s hand. He’s one of your students who has finally started to socially interact, the kid had never wanted to go to any dances when he was younger. Slowly coming out of his shell in your classes, you know you can’t turn him down for a dance. “Surprised to see you aren’t here with Tara.” You murmur as the two of you move out to the dance floor.

Pero just watches for now, holding back, but he’s clenching his jaw and his fists, hating how this kid gets to hold you. He makes it about half way through the song before he’s striding across the dance floor, dodging the grinding kids until he’s tapping on the shoulder of Brian. “Can I cut in?” He asks gruffly.

Brian instantly drops your hand, eyes wide at the sight of the fiercely stern medieval studies professor. Brian had admitted that while he made it through his class, Tovar terrified him. “A-sure, p-pro-professor.” Brian stutters and you give him an encouraging smile. 

“Go ask Tara to dance, you two are always talking about each other.” You confide with a wink.

Pero grunts when the kid scurries off, no doubt gathering his balls to ask the girl to dance, and he reaches for your hand to pull you closer to him. He knows people are watching but he doesn’t care, his need for you overtaking his logic. “Did you enjoy the dance with the boy, hermosa?”

“It was fun.” You end up immediately breathless over the way he pulls you close with zero hesitation. “He’s a good boy.” You bite your lip and look into Pero’s dark eyes. “Were you jealous of my dancing with him?”

Pero scoffs, “no. I wasn’t jealous. I know that kid can’t give you what you want, what you need, querida. I simply wanted to touch you.” He says with a smirk, suddenly aware of how much you want him when you shiver slightly under his grip. “You’re a needy little one, aren’t you?” Pero says as he leans in closer, not touching your lips or face since it’s still professional but he’s closer than just colleagues.

“Fuck.” You practically whimper the curse, drawn in by the sheer possessiveness in his tone. Licking your lips, you look down at his for a brief second, considering kissing him but you’re sure he wouldn’t want that. “I am.” You confess softly. “It’s been a long time since…”

Pero chuckles, “since someone treated you right and made you cum?” He guesses, “don’t worry.” He reaches up with his free hand to gently grip your chin, “you’ll be satisfied come morning with me. You won’t leave my bed until you are able to walk.”

“Please…” you beg softly, unsure of what kind of title Pero prefers when he is in control. His hand is warm and large, you had never realized how Fucking big his hands are and you want them on your body. “Whatever you want.”

“Better get your things and meet me outside then.” He smirks and lets go of your chin, interested to see how you react and what you do. He is already half hard, glad he didn’t wear tight trousers as he steps away from you when the song ends. “Meet me outside.” He demands, forcing himself to not drag you out of the damn gym now.”

You nod breathless and whine slightly when you realize that you hate his hand moving away from you. How he’s already tapped into your neediness is amazing and you are looking forward to seeing what he can do when you are alone. “Let me- let me get my purse.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs, glancing around and acting like nothing happened when he steps back to go grab his coat from the check. He is ready to show you what he has, what he can do. He wants you to be wrecked.

You’re eager as you collect your purse and your own coat, knowing that you might not know what to expect with Pero. Will he want you to drive to his house or leave your car here? The weekend is completely open and you wonder if this is just a one time thing. A Valentine’s Day fling of sorts

Pero waits patiently by the doors, ignoring the looks from passing students and he inhales sharply when he sees you coming towards him. You want him. It’s clear in the haphazard way you put on your coat. “You ready?” He asks, voice lowering as he glances at the retreating student.

“Do you want me to follow you?” You ask quietly, biting your lip as you look at the students and then back at him. You’re nervous and excited. Anticipation racing through you happily and making your skin tingle. You always thought Pero was attractive, but now that you know he’s a dom? You’re dripping.

“Yes. Follow me.” He orders, walking to the door to open it and the cold makes him shiver as he guides you out into the parking lot and to your car. His hand cups your jaw and he rubs your lower lip with his thumb. “I’ll see you at my place.” He says, gesturing to his car.

This is insane. You are following Pero to his house so he can fuck you. It’s not like you have ever been there; or even kissed the man. Still, you climb into your car and follow him as you both leave the campus and start towards an older, residential section of the college town.

Pero is eager, gripping the steering wheel tight as he makes his way to his house, watching you in the rear view mirror to make sure he doesn’t lose you. He is eager, cock hardening in his pants as he imagines you spread out on his bed, tied to his headboard. Tonight has not gone how he expected, he expected to be heading home alone but he’s so ready to make you moan his name. When he pulls into his driveway and parks in his garage, he gets out of the car to wait for you, giving you a moment.

Climbing out of your car, you have come up with a few things to talk about. First being your safe words and hard limits. This is basically his audition, you told yourself about a thousand times. It will be disappointing if he’s the same as all the others, but you will just tell him that you’re not interested in a repeat performance.

Pero guides you inside, taking your coat and purse and leaving them by the front door. “Come sit.” He orders, gesturing to his sofa after he hangs up his own coat. “You want something to drink? Water? Tea?” He offers, a little nervous but nerves always help him in this situation. He knows this is an audition for both you and him and he wants to go over his rules.

“Water would be nice, thank you.” You murmur softly, looking around his house curiously. Pero never invited anyone over, William being the only one who had been inside. It’s surprisingly clean and tidy, with the exception of a study which was obviously used to grade papers and work at home. “Thank you.” Pero hands you the drink and you take a sip of it before you look at him. “I guess we need to talk about rules and expectations?”

He nods, sitting down beside but not super close to give you space if you want to leave. He rubs his hands together, gathering his thoughts. He never speaks without thinking first. “Hermosa-” He says your name, “I am not a traditional Dom. I know that the real world is equal and I would never expect you to be my submissive in public. This is purely for our private pleasure. I don’t believe that women should be submissive in their daily lives. You’re a strong, independent woman and I don’t not wish to change it. However, in my home, in our private time, I want - if you want me - I want you to be pleasured and give pleasure. Be punished for bad behavior and accept that punishment within limits. I am a strict dom, I expect complete obedience unless we use the safe words and of course within your limits. I expect you to submit to me, submit your body to me. Take what I give.” He finishes his speech, knowing you’ll want to respond.

It sounds so perfect the way that he describes it. It’s what you want but a lot of men or dominants want total control. At least the ones you’ve found. You nod. “I use ‘Arina’ for my safe word.” You smile at the use of the Greek goddess of peace in your bedroom activities. It was quite fitting in your mind. “And I don’t like fisting, or any type of ‘waste play’.” You had one man who thought that your hard limits didn’t matter and he could do whatever he wanted. That relationship died quickly.

Pero nods, “then those are my limits too. Let me show you what I like to use and you can decline what you don’t want.” He says, standing up to take your hand and he guides you to his bedroom. He has a special drawer full of his toys and he gently lays them on the dresser. They are all sanitized and ready to go. “Tell me what you don’t want and it goes back in the drawer.” He offers, wanting you both to be on the same page.

You look over the toys, surprised that he had such a variety of things. Especially since he’s a man who hates technology. Your fingers brush over the plug and you raise a brow at him, but he just looks back at you and waits. “Everything looks good.” You admit. “But it’s been awhile since I’ve had a plug in.”

Pero is pleased that you liked all of his toys. He steps back from you, keeping his dark eyes on yours. “I’m going to prepare. Strip down and kneel on my bed, head down. You will only address me as sir from this moment on. Safe word is ‘Arina’ and you are to use it whenever you want. I will stop immediately. Do you understand?” He asks. 

“Yes sir.” You reply and he hums in contentment. 

“I’ll be back.” He strides out of his bedroom, heading to his study so he can strip down to his pants, shoes off and shirt off. Mentally preparing himself for treating you how you want to be treated. This isn’t romantic. It’s not loving. This is what you both need.

The tremble in your fingers as you unzip your dress has nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with anticipation. You want this, you need it with almost pathetic desperation. The mindless fuzziness that you get when you give yourself over to someone else and having your choices taken away. Peeling your dress off, you wish you had asked if you were to leave your lingerie on, but smirk to yourself as you decide to keep it on. Sliding out of your heels and kneeling on the bed wearing the black lace. It will be fun to see how he reacts.

Pero rolls his shoulders, preparing himself, and he walks to his bedroom, opening the door. Fuck, he curses internally, seeing the lace on display on your body. His hackles go up a little, wondering who you wore this for, wanting to ask you, but he likes silence. Silence builds anticipation. He grabs the knife he keeps on the side, flicking it open, and he slowly walks over to the bed. He doesn’t say a word as his hand trails along your shoulder and he grips the band between the cups of your bra, pulling it away from your body so he can cut it off with ease. Your shoulders tense but you don’t say your safe word and he drags the knife through the lace, removing it from your body.

Your teeth clench together, keeping the gasp in that you want to make. He just ruined hundreds of dollars worth of lace but it was sexy. Making your cunt clench as he cuts the panties from your body and tosses the ruined material to the floor. Your head stays down, although your breathing has picked up, shivering slightly.

Pero senses how your breath picks up, and he smirks, tossing the lace aside and he steps back so he can admire your body. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful tits. Groomed thatch of curls above your cunt. “Who did you wear this for?” He asks and you remain silent, knowing he hasn’t told you you can talk. “You can speak.” He gives you permission, folding the knife and walking over to the dresser to grab the flogger.

“Myself, sir.” You keep your head down but your voice is steady. “I wanted to feel good.” You had every intention of using your toys and masturbating but things have turned out much better. Pero tuts, and you don’t think that he believes you.

“It deserved to be seen and appreciated but you’ve been naughty. Not telling anyone about what a dirty little girl you are. So I had to do it. And you need to be punished.” He sets the flogger down on the edge of the bed and grabs you, loving fast to drape you over his lap when he sits on the edge of the bed. “Now, you’re going to count. If you stop counting, we start again. Fifteen flogs for being so fucking dirty and hiding it. Remember your safe word, hermosa, and use it if you need to. I won’t be soft.” He wants, grabbing the flogger and bringing it down on your ass cheek.

That first bite of the flogger makes you cry out, eyes watering. “One!” You gasp out, sucking in a deep breath and feeling the pain radiate. 

���One what?” Pero growls and you immediately try again. 

“One, sir.” You amend, hoping that is what he wants.

Pero lets your insolence go, deciding to be kind seeing as this is your first night together. He rubs the skin for a second before he brings the flogger back down.

“Two, sir.” You gasp and he smirks, loving how wrecked you are already. 

“Thirteen more to go.”

It wrecks you. Hit after hit with the flogger. You can tell that while his strikes are sharp, he doesn’t increase intensity like some do, nor does he pull back. Each strike is precisely measured and your skin feels like it’s on fire. Stinging welts raise and you whimper when his hand slides over them. “E-eight, sir!” You know that you have tears sliding down your cheeks, but you don’t try to brush them away. They are for Pero’s pleasure to see after he’s done.

You struggle when he gets to twelve, he can tell by the way you yelp but you don’t give your safe word. He even gives you some extra time between flogs, rubbing the skin. “Fuck. Fif-fifteen, si-sir.” You choke out and he sets the flogger down, grabbing your chin to turn your face towards him so he can admire your tears. “That’s what you get for dancing with that kid. You’re mine. My little whore.” He slaps your sore cheeks with his free hand and you cry out. “You loved this didn’t you?” He teases, sliding his hand between your thighs to find your soaking cunt. “Oh yes. You loved it. Dripping like the slut you are. You want me to touch you?” He asks, teasingly rubbing your folds but not sliding between them.

“Please sir, please.” You sob, your cunt aching already and you want to squirm down on his fingers, force him to touch you but you know that would just delay any relief. His touch, his teasing is making you crave more. “Please touch me, sir.”

He chuckles at your sobs, knowing you seem desperate for him to touch you. His fingers trail along your inner thighs, brushing your folds but never dipping in. He finally smacks your cunt with the palm of his hand, loving how wet it is when he pulls it back. “Lay down on the bed. I don’t want you to move an inch.” He orders, grabbing your hips and sliding you off of his lap to deposit you on the bed. He stands up, reaching for the silk ties with a smirk, his cock aching in his pants but he desperately wants you to walk away from here satisfied and aching for more.

Your chest heaves when you see the silk scarves. You had imagined rope, but this is even better. Biting your lip as you try to obey him, the urge to lift your hands to the headboard nearly makes you move, but you want to be good. Desperate for him to touch you, or better yet, fuck you. You still haven’t even seen his cock but you felt his length against your stomach when he had you over his lap.

Pero works fast, securing the silk to his headboard, opening the slats on the headboard he had made himself. Wanting something custom that didn’t look like what it was used for. He smirks and shuffles to straddle you, still in his slacks. “Arms up, hermosa.” He orders, working fast to secure you to his headboard and when you’re secure, he hums in appreciation. “Do you want me to touch you?” He asks, questioning you while he straddles your thighs.

“Yes sir.” You nod your head quickly, nearly breathless as you pull against the restraints. They are secure but not so tight you are uncomfortable. “I would like you to use me, sir. However you need, whatever you want, sir.” Having a dom that doesn’t allow you to say anything wouldn’t be fun either so you had said a little more than yes or no. How he reacts will tell you how strict he is.

He likes what you say, the look in your eyes has him throbbing so he reaches down to unbutton his pants, pulling his aching cock out. “I want to see what that smart little mouth can do.” He murmurs, shuffling closer until he’s straddling your chest. “Suck.” He demands, looking down at you while he grips his cock, pulling back the foreskin to expose the leaking head.

Shit, he’s uncut. Your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock and you know there’s no way he’s not going to make you gag. He’s thick and the dribble of precum makes you stick out your tongue like the eager little whore that you are so he can fuck your mouth.

The way you stick your tongue out has him chuckling deeply and he grants you mercy, shifting closer so you can wrap your lips around him. You flick your tongue over the tip and he hisses at how hot and wet your mouth is when you wrap your lips around him, eyes wide and innocent despite you being anything but. He rocks his hips, pushing deeper until he hits the back of your throat, only half way in your mouth.

You groan around him, loving how he fills your mouth. He doesn’t push too deep but he starts rocking his hips so he moves against your tongue. The salty burst of him makes your cunt clench and you try to open your throat even more so you can let him push past your gag reflex.

“Tranquillo.” He murmurs, watching tears spring to your eyes and he wants you to be able to take him down your throat but you can’t push yourself. He gently rocks into your mouth, wanting you to take him like a whore but this sexual relationship is built on mutual trust. He can’t push you too hard, he has to accommodate what you can and can’t do.

You appreciate the fact that he’s not pushing too much too fast. It’s been a long time since you’ve tried to train yourself to deepthroat. You moan softly around him, hoping that the vibration feels good against the head of his cock.

“Mierda.” Tovar grunts, reaching up to grab the edge of the headboard to balance himself so he can push his cock a little deeper. You choke around him but he murmurs, “relax. Take my cock. Be a good girl.” His whispers make you breathe harshly through your nose and he hums in delight when you take him a couple of inches deeper. “You’re doing so well, hermosa.”

Your praise kink makes you preen, eagerly wanting to make him happy. Wanting to give him exactly what he wants. For long minutes, he continues to pump his cock into your mouth at the same methodical attention to detail that he had flogged you, making sure he doesn’t overwhelm you. You appreciate it since your hands aren’t free to signal him or push him away.

He is close to cumming but he doesn’t want to cum down your throat, not tonight. He pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva keeping you connected until it breaks. “Did so good. You want me to touch you?” He asks, shifting off of you to kneel between your thighs, pushing them apart and back so he can get a good look at your cunt. It’s dripping, a wet spot on the sheets below that makes his cock twitch. “Answer me.” He demands, slapping your thigh.

Your cry is sharp but you immediately nod. “Yes sir.” You gasp out. “Please touch me, sir. I need it.” Your thighs press together slightly, needing some friction but Pero’s body is keeping you from moving too much. “Please touch me, sir.” You beg, not caring that you sound pathetic.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Pero trails off, shifting to kneel between your legs. He pushes them back until your knees are in your chest, pressing them back enough for him to access your cunt and he spits on it, loving the way his saliva slides through your folds. With a hum, he leans in and pushes his tongue deep, loving the tangy taste of you as he widens his jaw to get as much of you as possible into his mouth.

You cry out his name, tugging on your restraints and you regret having him tie you to the bed for the first time. His hair was made for pulling and you want to feel the strands wrapped around your fingers. “Fuck!” You shudder as he flicks his tongue over your throbbing clit. “P-sir!” You almost said his name, but catch yourself while trying to twist yourself so you can see him.

He catches your mistake but he lets it slide. Tonight is an audition, if you want to see him again, he will punish you next time you do it. He sucks your clit into his mouth, fingers digging into your thighs and shifting to slide under your ass, tilting your hips so he can slide his tongue deep inside of you. Pressing his nose against your clit, he hums into your cunt, loving how you sound, how you taste.

It’s raw in the way that he seems to have you. The rasp of his tongue seems to just have the perfect rough edge to it in order to make you want to rock your hips up. You don't, though, you are supposed to let him do what he wants. “So good, sir. So fucking good.” You whine, closing your eyes and letting your nails dig into your palms slightly to ground you.

He can tell you’re close so he pulls back, loving the whine that escapes your lips. He reacts quickly, reaching up to grip your jaw, “are you complaining?” He growls at you, wondering what you’re whining about when he’s the one in charge.

The mewl you make is pathetic and you shake your head, denying that you are complaining. “No sir.” You whisper, wanting to be good for him. It’s hard when it’s been so long since you’ve cum from anything other than your own toys or fingers. It’s harder to let go this time since it has been so long but you want to be good for him.

“Good. Open your mouth.” Pero orders and you comply. He spits into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself from him without kissing you, and he keeps his grip tight on your jaw. “Swallow like a good girl.” He demands, watching as you follow his order. “Good.” He lets go of your jaw, sliding his hand down your body to squeeze your breast and he pinches your nipple, loving the way you gasp. “You’re so desperate to cum. I bet I could make you cum just by doing this.” He slaps your tit, chuckling at your gasp, then he pinches your nipple again.

Moaning softly, your eyes close, giving yourself over to him. Not wanting to see what he does next. Needing to just experience it. It’s obvious Pero isn’t going to let you cum anytime soon, so you arch up when he slaps your tit again. “Fuck!” You gasp, enjoying the sharp sting of it and then the tug on your nipple that follows. Every since one them shooting straight to your cunt to make you burn even hotter.

God, you’re fucking perfect. Pliable and obedient. Sexy and so fucking needy. He can tell you’re holding yourself back. He chuckles and kisses your chest until he is taking your nipple into his mouth. He has to stretch you out for his cock so he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt while he bites down on your nipple.

“Fuck, oh fuck.” You whimper, overwhelmed by the stretch of his fingers and his teeth on your breasts. Loving how your walls immediately clench down on h and tries to suck them in deeper. “Yes, so good. Fuck so good.” You pant breathlessly.

He presses his thumb to your clit, pushing a third finger inside of you to stretch you. He pumps them, curling them until you squeal his name. He smirks against your breast in victory, biting down on your other nipple after he kissed across your sternum. “Cum for me, cum and show me what a needy little slut you are. Want you to soak my fingers.” He orders, shifting so he can look at you, thumb rubbing your clit.

Your body immediately responds to the gruff order, stiffening as your cunt locks down around his fingers with a cry of sublime pleasure. The hot squelch of your cum gushes around his fingers as he pumps them into your spasming hole.

Pero works you through it then when you slump against the mattress, he withdraws his fingers and brings them to your mouth. “Taste yourself. Taste how delicious you are.” He orders, pushing his fingers into your mouth before you can decline.

You moan around his fingers, licking them clean over everything. Keeping your tongue twirling around the digits until he is pulling them free from your mouth. “Thank you, sir.” You murmur softly, looking up at him through hazy, satisfied eyes.

Pero hums in contentment at the easy way you react to him, instinctually following his lead. He doesn't have to explain everything, you just know. He shuffles off of the bed, cock still hard, and he walks over to the nightstand to grab a condom. He pushes his pants down, leaving him bare, and he rips the packet to roll the rubber down his cock. Kneeling on the bed, he reaches up to untie your hands from the frame. "Hands and knees. Now."

You move a little sluggishly, the bliss from your orgasm still making your limbs heavy but you turn over. Pushing up to your hands and trying to rock your ass out towards him. Of course Pero would like to fuck you from behind, it’s probably his preferred position. One of control and power. You don’t look over your shoulder because he didn’t give you permission.

Pero caresses your ass, skin still raised from the flogger and he can’t help but slap the skin again, making you cry out. He shifts, reaching down to grip his cock and he pushes into you in one thrust, knowing he’s worked you open enough. Leaning over you, he kisses along your shoulder before he bites down, loving how you whimper.

“Ohhhh fuck,” your head drops between your shoulder blades, gasping as he stretches you out. “You’re so big, sir.” You moan, your walls contracting around him as he holds still inside you.

“Mierda.” He grunts, knowing he could easily blow his load here and now but he won’t. He wants to savor this. You are perfect around him. “You’re so tight, hermosa. Fuck, so good for me. Taking all of it.” He grunts, pushing deeper inside of you as you open up for him, stretching around him and he looks down at your pussy lips. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You want to say his name, but you don’t. Your fingers twist in the sheets under you as you barely resist rocking back. “So good, sir. You feel so big inside me.” You moan, eyes closing at the way he throbs in your cunt. “Please, please move, sir.” You beg Pero, needing him to fuck you stupid. You want to ache like he promised you that you would. 

Pero grabs your hips, fingers digging in, and he starts to fuck you. Hard. He gives no mercy, hammering into you and he nudges your knee with his, spreading you open even more. When you whine and reach back towards him, he grabs your wrists, bringing them together in his hand to both keep you still and control you. “You like this?” He asks and you don’t answer him. “Fucking answer me. You like this?” He repeats with a growl.

“Y-y-yes s-sir!” You squeal, unable to stay upright and falling onto your face as he continues to pound into you. All you can do is take and moan, making your noises muffled slightly by the covers but you love it. You will feel him tomorrow, and probably the day after that. He feels like he’s in your guts and you wish you could see what he looks like as he thrusts into you.

His jaw is clenched, sweat glistening on his forehead as he thrusts into you. He’s not gentle, you don’t want him to be. His free hand squeezes your tits, pinching your nipple and he looks down at you taking his cock again to see your puckered hole clenching. “Fuck.” He groans, leaning down to let his spit drip onto it, pressing his thumb against the skin.

You choke out a sound of surprise but you don’t clench up. Knowing that he is in charge. Instead, you let out a filthy moan as he presses a little harder and rubs, not enough to breach you, but you are panting. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

“I’ll fuck you here another time.” He promises, rubbing the skin while his cock pushes deeper, his grip still tight on your wrists as he controls your body. He shifts his thumb to your clit, wanting you to cum, and his wrist turns over once he slides it down your torso so he can rub your bundle of nerves.

You almost choke out that there might not be another time, but you know you are lying to yourself. This is too good and you will put up with his archaic antics if it means that he fucks you like this when you need. Moaning in agreement, you feel your body start to tense up again, getting really to cum. “Sir-“

“Beg for it.” He can tell your close and he wants to hear your sweet cries, your pleas for mercy. Beg me to cum.” He says with each thrust inside of you, his fingers on your clit are unrelenting.

“Please, please, I need to cum.” You sob, his demand unleashing the torrent of babbling. “You’re too good, it’s- it’s too good, I want to cum.” You gasp out, hands flexing as he holds your writers. “Please sir, please please please let me cum, please.”

Usually, he’d pull out and make you writhe but tonight, he wants you to want him, to want to be in his bed again. He’s tortured you enough so he presses his thumb harder against your clit. “Cum for me. Cum for me, hermosa. Cum for me now.” He demands and you cry out, clamping down on his cock. He loves it and within a dozen thrusts, he’s pushing deep and spilling into the condom, your name on his lips as he bends over your body, trapping your hands between you.

You go boneless beneath him, moaning softly as your body relaxes and you try to catch your breath. Even though your entire body is relaxed, now your mind is starting to spin. Wondering if he was pleased and if he wanted you in his bed again. Wondering how this would play out at work, if he had been serious about being able to keep it separate. “It was good.” You mumble quietly.

Pero hums, kissing your shoulder, and he reaches down to grab the base of the condom, slowly pulling out of you. He’s quick to tie it off and toss it in the trash can he keeps in the corner, grabbing his boxers to pull them on, and he walks over to the bed. “It was excellent.” He tells you, “I’m gonna get you some toast and some water and you’re gonna lay here as long as you need to, if you wanna nap, you can nap. I have papers to finish grading.” He tells you, grabbing the cream he keeps in the drawer to rub onto your ass and he grabs the wet wipes to clean you up. “Are your wrists sore?” He asks, pulling the silks out of the slates so he can put them away. You shake your head and he adjusts you to lay you down on his pillows, covering you with the blanket. “I’ll be back.” He promises, walking out of the bedroom and j to the kitchen.

Laying in bed, you wonder if you should go. He is taking care of you, but he has every intention of leaving you here and going to work on his papers. It’s not exactly the aftercare you had been expecting but this isn’t like you are in a relationship. Sliding to the edge of the bed, you realize that you don’t have any underwear or a bra since he cut them off of you. Huffing to yourself, you stand, wincing at the flare of pain and shuffle to the bathroom so you can pee.

Pero knows he should pull you close and wrap around you, tell you how good you were, but he can’t do that again. Last time he let his heart get involved, it got stomped on and he doesn’t have time to nurse wounded feelings. He’s too busy with his work and writing his dissertation. He works in making you toast and turns just as you walk into his kitchen, wincing a little. “You, uh, wanna eat before you leave?” He asks softly, setting the plate down on the table.

“Thanks.” You don’t sit down, your ass still too tender for the hard wooden chair right now. Instead, you give him a smile and pick up the toast to eat it quickly. The sooner you can leave, the better for him apparently. Your dress covers you until you get home, so that’s all that matters and you can shower and decompress on your couch after. “I’ll be quick.”

Pero nods, “take your time. I, uh, I would like to do this again if you want to.” He says, a little nervous that you won’t want him again. Maybe he wasn’t rough enough or maybe he was too rough. He’s anxious and his Dom nature slips aside to reveal the insecure side of him ever since his ex had claimed he wasn’t enough.

“I would.” You admit quietly. “I just don’t want to bother you. So let me know.” He seems hesitant and you wonder if he’s just being polite. “If not, no hard feelings, okay?” It would probably be humiliating, because he knows what type of things you like. He’s been inside you. You swallow another bite of the toast, reaching for the water to take a sip. He’s not said anything and you don’t want to look at him in case he’s unhappy with you. 

“No hard feelings? Did you - did you not enjoy yourself?” He frowns, leaning against the counter and wondering if he’s done something wrong. This is no longer Dom/sub stuff. This is between you and Pero. “I’d love to see you again but…if I was too much…I understand.” He says, a little briskly, feeling like he did satisfy you.

You shake your head, taking another bite of your toast. “It wasn’t too much.” You murmur softly. “It was perfect. It just seems like I didn’t please you.” You finally look up at him. “Since it- you know, I don’t know.” You blow out a sigh. “You just seem eager to get me out of your house. I know this is just- physical, but I just thought….” You shake your head again. “No, you’re right. I should go. It’s better to just keep it strictly, um, dom/sub dynamic outside of work.”

Pero frowns, walking over to you to grip your chin. “It feels like what?” He asks, wanting to know exactly what you’re thinking. He’s confused and he wonders why you’re pushing him away. He thought you had a good time tonight. He doesn’t understand why you want to leave so suddenly. “Do you…tell me what you think, hermosa.” He demands, wanting to know what you want.

You feel almost reassured by the pressure of his fingers gripping your chin and the slightly stern edge to his tone. “I had just thought that this would be us getting to know each other better.” You admit quietly. “Beyond the bedroom. But it’s okay.” You try to nod as if you aren’t having your face cradled. “I understand. This is just how you are.”

“Oh.” Pero frowns, shifting to sit down and he lets go of your chin. “I- I didn’t know if you wanted more or just the sex. Im sorry hermosa. I- I want to know more about you, I do.” He promises, knowing you might get tired of him but he wants to take the risk.

“It’s okay.” You shrug slightly. “If you don’t, that’s okay. Like you said, I should just focus on my work and use this as a release.” He had made it clear he thinks you are too emotional.

Pero feels awkward now and he knows that if he sits there, making conversation, it won’t be authentic. With a sigh, he stands up and takes your empty plate, “did you enjoy tonight?”

“I did, thank you.” Your time is obviously up, and you wonder if he’s always been this way. Instead of asking, you turn to start walking towards your purse. “I think I will go home and soak in a bath because you did it right.” You praise him. “Have a good night Pero.”

He nods, following you towards the front door and he opens it when you get your purse. “Drive safe.” He murmurs, “call me when you get home.” He demands, reaching for your arm, “I don’t text so call me. Let me know you’re safe.”

You snort, not commenting but thinking that it’s very Pero to not text. Instead, you nod and walk out to your car. Pero doesn’t close the door, he stands in the doorway and watches as you get in your car and back out of his driveway. You don’t live terribly far away, only about ten minutes and you can’t wait to soak in that bath.

Pero shuts his door and walks into his bedroom to change the top sheet, wanting to keep everything clean and tidy. When his cell doesn’t ring, he frowns and decides to call you. “Hello?” You answer and he grunts, “you didn’t call me to tell me you got home safe.”

“Sorry.” You don’t really think it’s a big deal, you are an adult. If you had left the party and driven home, you wouldn’t have called him. “I got home and got in the bath and got caught up reading.” You are out of the bath now, dressed for bed and honestly ready to sleep. “But I’m home and I’ll see you on Monday.” 

Pero isn’t happy with your answer, partly wishing you had stayed with him so he could’ve run you a bath but you’ve made it clear where you stand. “Okay. I, uh, I’ll see you Monday. Goodnight, hermosa.” He murmurs, hanging up the phone and shoving it on his desk as he runs his fingers through his hair. It’s obvious you want sex and only sex, and he doesn’t disagree with that. It’s less complicated, especially considering your roles. He tries to continue grading his papers but fails, deciding to get into bed himself.

Your weekend passes too quickly. Checking some of your lessons for the coming week only takes an hour or so, but then you are still engrossed in your book and laundry, cleaning your place, meal prepping for the week. You had halfway anticipated Pero calling you again, but your phone stayed silent. So you did what you needed to, replayed that night with your wand pressed to your clit.

When Pero comes into work on Monday morning, he struggles to figure out the coffee machine but gets there in the end, sipping the hot brew as you come in to get your own coffee. William looks between you, sensing something is different but he can’t tell. “Morning.” Pero finally breaks the silence, looking over at you, ignoring the way William raises his eyebrows.

“Good morning.” You decided that you weren’t going to try to flirt or be coy with Pero. He wouldn’t appreciate that sort of thing. “William, you missed a nice dance for the kids.” You shift your eyes over to his friend. “Hopefully you treated Mae Lin to a good night out?”

William nods, “of course. We are working on baby number two.” The Irishman blushes a little and Pero is pleased for his friend. He knows that William and Mae Lin have something special. You prepare your coffee and Pero is pleased that you are okay, you seem to have recovered from his flogging. “Did you enjoy the dance?” William teases. 

Pero rolls his eyes, “if you enjoy those horny bastards grinding on each other like it’s mating season.”

The fact that he didn’t even enjoy dancing with you or taking you home annoys you. Will, by all accounts, is Pero’s best friend and he is pretending like it didn’t happen. You snort and turn around from the coffee bar with a roll of your own eyes. “Yes, Tovar is much more suited for an eleventh century brothel.” You snort. “Pay a few coins to take care of his needs and then leave to continue selling his sword.” You’ve always thought Pero would have been a mercenary if he had lived in those times, he’s talked about their struggles enough and you had even teased him about the full armor he has that is a replica of the time. LARPING is apparently not something Pero Tovar does, although you had enjoyed teasing him about it. “Don’t expect him to admit to enjoying anything that isn’t torturing his students or reminiscing about the ‘good ole days’.” Pushing away from the counter, you stride towards the door, annoyed with yourself for caring. “I need to get ready for my first class.”

Pero watches you go with a little longing in his eyes, he didn’t want to disrespect you by talking about you in front of William. He doesn’t want to have the other professors overhear and gossip about you. He stands up, without a word, and strides out of the break room and down the hall to your office. 

“Bye then, arsehole!” William shouts from the break room but Pero ignores him, quickly moving to open your office door. 

“You’re mad at me.” He declares as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him.

“Nope.” You pop the p of your answer and don’t bother looking up at him. Staring at your computer screen and checking your emails. “I am getting ready for my class, like you should be doing.” This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? You are a little hurt, but you’ll get over that. You and Pero weren’t friends before you let him fuck you, so it stands to reason that he wouldn’t let you become more friendly after.

He huffs, placing his hands on his hips, “I didn’t think you’d want me to tell William what we did this weekend while other people were listening. Even us dancing together would be off brand for us. I- I can’t stop thinking about how you looked, how you felt, how you tasted. I want you again. I want you in my bed again.” He reveals, “I don’t want to forget that it happened because I want to do it again.”

That makes you look up at him, jaw dropped because of the sheer emotion in his voice. It’s impassioned. “You didn’t call.” You murmur softly, admittedly hurt that he hadn’t reached out at all. “So I thought you changed your mind.”

Pero sighs, “I didn’t call because I didn’t think - I wanted you to recover. I wasn’t easy on you and I didn’t think you could take more than one session. Let me fuck you again. I want this to be…I want to continue doing this.”

You lean back in your chair and watch him for a moment. You aren’t in the dom and sub roles right now and Pero shifts uneasily, like he’s uncomfortable. “Okay.” You decide after a moment. “Tonight? Or do you want to leave it for the weekends?”

“Now.” Pero demands, reaching over to flick the lock of your office door. “I want you now. Stand up, take your panties off under that dress and place your hands on the desk.” He demands, working on his belt buckle to pull it through the loops. He is half hard just seeing you sitting there, remembering how you were in his bed when he was inside of you.

The fact that he wants you now makes your cunt clench. It’s not exactly the dynamic that you had at his house, but it’s still forceful and it makes you stand up and quickly pull your skirt up so you can strip down your panties and kick them off. Watching him as you place your hands on the desk and wait to see what he’s going to do.

He grabs his belt, looping it in his hands and he steps closer to you. “Safe word.” He murmurs and you say it clearly, making him hum. “If you want me to stop, slam your hand on the desk twice.” He says, “open your mouth.” You follow his order and he places the leather strap in your mouth, working to secure it around your head, the rest of the leather hanging down your neck. “I need you to be quiet.” He says, reaching for the metal ruler you keep on your desk. He grabs it and brings it to your cheek, slapping you gently with it. “Be a good girl for me.” He murmurs, “then you can go teach your little class.” He slides the ruler down your chest, brushing your nipples with the edge.

You shudder, both from the edge of the ruler catching on your breast through the bra and your shirt, and the sexiness of the entire situation. You aren’t going to be able to sit in your office and think of anything else from now on. Moaning quietly against the leather, you close your eyes and breath through your nose. Already starting to drip, you push your ass out slightly to entice him.

He trails the ruler down your stomach, glad your skirt is pushed up, and you keep your hands on the desk. “Don’t move. Do not make a sound.” He growls into your ear, bringing the ruler down to your cunt, pushing it between your folds until the cold metal touches your clit.

Inhaling sharply, it’s so hard to not move as he does what he wants to you. Making your walls flutter and your stomach curl in pleasure as he rubs the metal against your clit, warming the metal up with your hot cunt. You try to steady your breathing, but it hard when all you want to do is beg him to fuck you.

He rubs your clit with the metal ruler, pulling it away and you whine around the leather, but he doesn’t make you wait because he brings the ruler down on your clit, slapping it with the metal.

Your small cry is muffled by the leather between your teeth, making sure no one walking past the office knows what’s happening in here. It makes you even wetter to know that he would do these types of things outside the comfort and safety of his own space. “Fuck.” You pant, words inaudible and look over at him, loving the dark lust swirling in his eyes.

He slaps your clit again, loving how you moan against the leather, and he sets the ruler down on the desk. “Stay there.” He demands, working on unbuttoning his pants to pull his hard cock out. He reaches for his wallet, pulling out the condom he keeps in there and he tosses the wallet onto his desk, the condom wrapper falling to the floor, and he rolls it down quickly. “Fuck. You’re dripping. You like this, don’t you? Being my little whore at school.” He murmurs, nipping the skin behind your ear as he grips his cock. He kicks your ankle, spreading your legs wider, and he pushes inside of you in one thrust, knowing you don’t have a lot of time.

Your back arches in pleasure and pain from the intrusion. Having him spear up into you forcefully takes your breath away and you gasp behind the belt. That beautiful ache returns almost instantly and you are pushing back against him desperately. He’s right, you do love this happening right here, love the thrill of being in your office. In public.

He loves how reactive you are but he needs you to cum quickly so he pushes you forward, pressing you against your desk, onto your papers. “Hands stay on the desk.” He orders, thrusting into you. It’s rough and it’s dirty, your moans muffled and he grabs the ruler again, pushing it between you to rub your clit. “So needy for my cock, you’ll even take it in your office. Such a good little whore for me.” He coos into your ear, slapping your clit with the ruler again.

You whine, clenching around him and rolling your eyes back when he slaps your clit again. It’s feeding into all your needs right now and every thrust strikes against that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. The desk is sturdy enough that it doesn’t move but the container of pens and markers shake and jolt on the surface and the slap of his thoughts against yours becomes audaciously loud.

He fucks you hard and fast, needing you to fall apart around him before you’re late to your first class. He slaps your clit again, “cum for me, hermosa. Cum on my cock like a good girl.” He orders, pushing deep inside of you.

It doesn’t take long to obey him. Five hard thrusts later, you are stiffening up. Your cunt locking down around him and there’s a very serious concern that you might ruin his pants with the flood of cum that gushes out of you. Your cry against the wet leather is louder than before but you don’t care, riding out your high before you slump against the desk and pant.

Pero tosses the ruler down on the desk, grabbing your hips to keep you still as he works you through your orgasm and heads into his own. “Mierda, mi puta. I- fuck. Me voy-” He cuts himself off with a grunt as he buries his cock deep and fills the condom. Your name a groan on his lips.

You know there won’t be any aftercare this time, not where you are. You whine when he’s pulling out of you after a few seconds and you push yourself up. Watching him remove the condom and tie it off as you reach back to unbuckle his belt from around your head. Now you need to straighten your appearance to get ready for your class.

Pero takes the belt, admiring your teeth marks, and he quickly tucks himself away and puts the belt back on. “I want to see you tonight at my place.” He murmurs, stepping towards you to grip your chin, “I want you to be in my bed again.”

You hum quietly, looking into his eyes and you want to ask if it’s just for another session but you don’t. You nod. “Okay. I’ll come to your house after my last class.” You agree, certain that he would send you home after.

Pero leans in to kiss your forehead before he steps away from you, adjusting his shirt and tie before making his way to his office to get what he needs for his first class. Tonight, he wants to treat you properly, show you how good he can be. This is purely sex but for some reason, the lines are already blurring. His dislike for your modern ways ebbing away and he finds himself liking you more and more.

You giggle slightly to yourself as you finish getting ready for your class. You had gone to the Valentine’s dance for your college because you were bored and there was nothing else to do. Now you are walking into your class with a sore cunt, a dom, and a date for him to make you cum again. Maybe Pero isn’t so bad after all.

[new-berry]

I’ll put the ask game stuff in one, with a side of WIP but you can skip if not your deal :)

Reading: The address book,

Fun fact, I mostly read non fiction (and kids books uggg so many fucking dinosaurs). Bonus I-am-a-wanker fun fact, I read poetry almost every day because poetry’s important and I hate about 70 percent of them. Poetry is subjective! Etc etc. I also argue with the news. I judge myself.

Watching: nothing! Going through a stage of not watching TV. We have four streaming services.

Fixated on: why I keep booking things for when I should be in my Jim-jams time. Winter festival, World Cup, star gazing trip (this is a belated birthday present for a family member) and finding somewhere to see the stars for Matariki. I have to keep my filthy atheist thoughts to myself when we have to offer food to the stars. It’s the start of the New Year (sort of? Let’s not get into the reintroduction of indigenous culture that may be… May we live in interesting times. )

Tall or short? So short!

Fat or thin? BMI says I’m just over the line for overweight. I don’t know, middle?

Single or in a relationship? In a relationship.

Student or worker: worker, do not recommend.

Fave colour: pink. All the fucking pink. Aggressively pink.

Fave flower: the one I don’t have to grow

Fave food: chocolate. I will not lie.

WIP

England under 21’s Morgan gibbs-white, Anthony Gordon, Taylor Harwood-Bellis (so far, still judging myself)

“What the fuck?” Taylor glares at the two players in front of him who…do not spring apart like he thought they would.

Taylor frowns and says a bit louder “the fuck are you doing?” Anthony lifts his hand off Morgan’s thigh and gives him the finger. Morgan is sitting on the side of the pool Anthony’s head between his legs. He leans back on his hands slightly and pants out “piss off Tay, you’re spoiling the mood.”

Enzo/ Julian sort of prequel to enzo/ Joao? Might make it one long fic?

“Enzo, Enzo my man.” De Paul with his eyes crinkled up at the corners, smile stretching all the way across his face.

He’s steering you to the side, the grounds oven baked.

“You rooming with Julián?” His voice is casual, too causal you feel the hair on the back of you neck rise. Your skin prickles.

Ben / Martin I do not recall writing this? I recall talking about writing this.

Ben has to know he’s there. Would have heard the front door slam. Would have heard Martin walk down the hallway.

He’s not even posed just having another glass and how much fucking water is he going to drink? Jesus Christ. Martin walks up behind him kicking his shoes off, taking his t-shirt off, all of them landing someone to the side. Slides right into the space behind Ben, grinding into him wrapping his arms around Ben’s waist.

He’s a little sticky with sun screen, the weird mix of coco butter and science that makes Martin feel like he can smell chlorine or the beach.

[comicalwenger]

jesus fucking Christ i HATE being at my parents house what the fuck streaming service is this game on

[angryschnauzer]

No i In Team

Summary: Having been dumped, you find yourself standing in the mud and rain as a bootcamp instructor yells at you. Finally you snap, telling him your mind before storming off. Later when he appears at your room to see if you are ok, he makes sure you are fully over your ex, proving that some men are a lot better than others.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader (no race or body type mentioned) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Sand Castle - Movie

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough sex, vaginal sex, doggy style, cowgirl, inappropriate use of a mini sombrero. 

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You will then get an alert every time i post something.

My masterlist got too large for tumblr, so now you can check out my AO3 on THIS LINK to find my previous stories.

No I In Team

This was it. This was the worst decision you had ever made. In fact, the worst collection of the worst decisions. Ever. In the history of decision making. 

The rain continued to pour. Any sane person would not be standing in the middle of an assault course in this weather. They certainly wouldn’t be joining in on a ‘team building get-away’ when you had in fact already quit the company and it just finished your notice period. And they really wouldn’t have come when their ex was parading his new girlfriend around and they were on the same team as you. 

Okay, so the last bit wasn’t in your control; your ex had in fact dumped you - via text - whilst you were in the cab there. Which honestly was a bit of a surprise seeing as you were meant to be sharing a room, and you had splashed out on one of the luxury rooms in the hotel where the corporate events were held at. He was a little surprised - which proved how much of a dumbass he really was - when you refused to let him and his new girlfriend take your room, and you stay in the smaller and cheaper one she had paid for. It was simple, you had paid, they could fuck off.

The other girlfriend, now that was a surprise. You didn’t want to hate her, she seemed very sweet but there were definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic going on with her. Your weasel of an ex had cited a number of reasons for the break up, all laying blame on you, but really you had known it was coming and were quite relieved in a way… he was now someone else's problem.

However, because of being blindsided by the break up, you had continued on autopilot and now found yourself soaked to your skin, and the enormous brute that ran the bootcamp was doing his best to yell at every single person to ‘encourage’ them. Jesus christ you weren’t built for climbing up ropes and flinging yourself over 10ft walls, and with each passing obstacle you were falling further and further behind.

“COME ON! GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER THAT ROPE NET!”

Rolling your eyes you let out a huff and slid-ran through the three inch deep mud, starting to climb the net that led up to a rope ladder you were expected to climb across as it was suspended over a pool of muddy water. You looked into the distance, your ‘team mates’ having well and truly left you behind, and as you reached the bottom of the net you looked up at it, taking in how muddy and slippery it was where 11 other people had already climbed up it;

“ARE YOU AFRAID OF A NET? PULL YOURSELF UP AND STOP FUCKING AROUND IN THE MUD”

The ‘Captain’ yelled at you from six feet away. Jesus you were fed up with him. The guy looked like he lived, breathed, and slept military. At the start of the course he had introduced himself as Captain Syverson, but everyone was to refer to him as Captain. His fatigues and t-shirt were plastered to his skin, his beard soggy as puffs of steam came from his mouth as he continued to yell at you. 

You turned to him, watching as he took a single stride and was just a foot from you, taking a deep breath to yell again before you pushed your hand up and pressed a single finger to his mouth;

“No”

He stopped, unable to hide his surprise as his eyebrows shot up before you pulled your finger away.

“Get your ass up that net, NOW!”

Crossing your arms you repeated yourself;

“No. I will not”

“THERE IS NO I IN TEAM!”

“No. There isn’t. But there is an i in Vibrator”

“W-what?”

“Vibrator. Dildo too. And i quit”

“You can’t quit”

“Unless you are going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me across that net and ladder, i quit. I am going to go back to my expensive hotel room, stopping at the bar to buy a bottle of the hardest liquor they have, have a hot bath, and give myself something a man has never been able to”

“What’s that?”

“An orgasm”

You turned on your heel and started towards the hotel building in the distance, leaving the Captain speechless in the rain. When you were halfway across the lawns you could hear him yelling at the rest of the team, but you couldn’t give a fuck, you’d had enough.

-

The bath was amazing. You’d spent a good hour if not two in it letting the spa jets send streams of bubbles over your body, and had in fact given yourself the first of many orgasms you had planned for your evening. You had been disappointed when you’d discovered that the bar wouldn’t sell bottles of alcohol, but the bartender had quietly told you that if you ordered the corporate entertainment tray over room service they were obliged to send up a selection of miniatures with mixers and nibbles.

You were still standing in your towel when you heard a knock at the door, puzzled to be interrupted as you had the Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the handle. Approaching the peephole you looked through, surprised to see who was on the other side. Opening the door a few inches you looked out, and saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, now wearing dry clothes that accentuated how he was 101% muscle, from the kingfisher blue sweater that made his eyes even brighter, to the dark denim that clung to his muscled thighs, a smirk played across his face when he saw what you were wearing;

“Hi”

“Captain?”

He shifted and held out a bottle of Tequila;

“The bar doesn’t sell liquor by the bottle”

He motioned for you to take it, and as you did so you swung the door open a little more, seeing him look you up and down, his eyes growing a little darker as he licked his lips;

“I thought about what you said…”

“Which part”

“About what words the letter i are in” you didn’t realise but he had shifted a little closer, his toes now over the threshold of the room; “Cos’ i thought of another word that has the letter i in”

You cocked your head to the side, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, already gauging the reason his thickly muscled man was at your hotel room door with a smile and alcohol;

“Dick has got an i in”

“You’re absolutely right” you pulled the cork from the bottle of Tequila, taking a sip and grinning at the captain as you fiddled with the little hat that hung from the neck of the bottle, taking a step back as he slowly crept further into the room. A flash of lightning from the bad weather outside illuminated the room, and yet the air between your bodies almost sparked from the energy you were giving off.

“But my favourite letter is U”

“Ok… i’m waiting for the punchline…”

“Because that’s in the word Tongue, and i would very much like my tongue to be in u”

Closing the gap between you, you pressed two fingertips to his chest, the soft blue sweater he now wore warm to the touch;

“That…” you paused, walking your fingers up his chest with each word: “Was the best pick up line i’ve ever heard, Captain”

Pushing the door shut behind him, his slid his hand into the split of your towel, his warm palm resting on your hip before pulling you flush with his chest;

“You can call me Sy”

-

He had lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, the towel trapped between your bodies but now unraveled as it dragged along the floor, your naked back and ass cooling in the air of the room, but soon warmed by two large hands as they roamed over your skin. His kiss was rough, his tongue licking into your mouth as his beard tickled your face. 

You hadn’t even realised he’d gotten to the bed until he had pulled away and sat down, pulling you down with him so you were straddling his waist;

“Ride my face, let me give you what you need” he growled, his hands on your ass pushing you up his body.

You’d quickly scrambled to set the bottle onto the nightstand before straddling his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as his massive hands cupped your ass. He pulled you down until you were literally seated on his face, his thick beard brushing against your thighs and ass, his tongue burying itself between your slick folds, teasing you open. 

Winding one hand through his short brown hair, the soft chocolate curls caressed your fingers as your other hand rested against the headboard of the bed to steady yourself, his eagerness already rapidly pushing you towards an orgasm, your body still buzzing from the one you’d given yourself in the bath. 

“Oh fuck… Sy, Jesus Christ your tongue…”

You’d never met a man with a tongue so wide and juicy, the thick muscle pulsing within your cunt as his nose teased your clit, and soon you were shaking above him, attempting to push up on your legs from the intensity of it, only for his strong grip to tighten on your ass and pull you back down onto his face.

“Ride my tongue Darlin’” you heard his muffled voice, and as you looked down you saw his face was flushed but his eyes held nothing but mischief.

Tossing your head back you let yourself go, calling out his name as you unashamedly rode his tongue to an intense orgasm, flooding his face with your juices. 

Limp and pliable, you felt him lifting you before setting you down on the bed, his lips finding your neck and shoulders as he pressed kisses to your skin. The storm raged outside the window, rain lashing against the glass and making you feel even more enclosed in as Sy’s body covered your own. Finally enough of your senses returned that you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a fierce kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. When he finally broke away from your lips he started to kiss down your body, only for you to tug at his soft blue sweater, wanting the knitwear gone;

“Okay ok Darlin’...”

“Want to see you… feel you…” you were lust drunk now, a fire in the pit of your belly where you wanted nothing more than this beast of a man to split you open and fuck you raw.

He let out a low belly laugh, pushing off you and standing, a grin on his face as he saw you watching him as he stripped for you.

With his sweater tossed aside, he toed his boots off as his hands made quick work of his jeans, revealing a pair of tight black boxer briefs that were obscenely bulging at the front. Clenching your thighs together did little to satisfy the arousal, and as he tucked his thumbs under the elastic of his underwear you bit your lip as he teased you, pulling the elastic down to reveal the thick bush of hair and a tantalizing peek at the thick root of his shaft. Inch by inch he lowered his underwear until they dropped to the floor, and your mouth was agape as you took his size in all his glory;

“Wow, you really do have the equipment for the BDE you give off...” He paused and looked at you, cocking an eyebrow as you started to explain; “It means big…”

“I know what it means” he smirked, hooking his finger at you and watching as you crawled over the bed until your face was level with his rapidly hardening dick; “Why don’t you show me how good that mouth of yours is?”

Wrapping your hands around his hot flesh you could feel him growing harder and thicker under your touch, leaning your head forwards until you could take him into your mouth, tasting him on your tongue as he grunted above you;

“That’s it Darlin’, get me nice and wet, gonna have this buried in you sooner or later, the harder you get me the more dick you get inside you”

He rested his hand on the back of your head, guiding you to take him deeper but without being pushy about it. When his tip nudged at the back of your throat you fought back the feeling, looking up with watery eyes as his own bored into your soul as his dick tried to do the same to the back of your skull.

Holding you deep he finally with a gasp pulled himself out of your mouth with a string of curses, stroking your hair as you coughed and sucked in precious oxygen;

“Fuck, that mouth of yours is a thing of wonder Darlin’... but i want to get into that sweet cunt of yours… how do you need it?”

“N-need it?”

He gently pushed you onto your back, crawling over you until he was poised and ready to go;

“Yeah, need it. You’ve just broken up with some limp dick, how do you need me to fuck you?”

“W-what are the options?”

“You want slow and gentle, or you want me to fuck you like a beast and toss you around like a rag-doll”

“Beast mode please”

With a low growl he grinned as he surged forward and caught your lips with his own, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he took complete control. You felt him gripping his dick as he swiped it through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your wetness before he pulled away and grasped you by the hips as he knelt on the bed, pulling you up his thighs before thrusting his fat girth into you with one swift movement.

“HOLY FUCK!”

“That’s it Darlin, take my dick all the way. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget about anyone else that has ever disappointed you”

Gritting his teeth he moved your body like you were a rag-doll, pulling you onto his hardness as you could do little but to go limp and let your mind get flooded by the pleasure he was giving your body thanks to the best sex you’d ever had. Gripping at the sheets you felt an orgasm start to building within you;

“Sy… keep doing that… i’m gonna cum…”

With a smile and a grunt he did exactly as you asked, keeping his pace fast and steady as you lost control around him, your back arching as your legs shook and you came hard. You were trembling from the force of the aftershocks as he slowed down and finally stilled, letting you relax onto the duvet as he covered your body with his, pressing openmouthed kisses to your chest, murmuring against the soft flesh;

“These titties are spectacular”

He moved a little and you felt that he was still hard, a smirk back on his face;

“Oh i’m not done yet Darlin’, that was just an intermission”

He pulled out of you and you found yourself being flipped over, your ass pulled up as he filled you from behind this time, his thickness splitting your walls open and his massive hands found their way to your breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as he pile drove into you from behind;

“Feel so fucking good Darlin, love the way your cunt feels around my dick, wanna feel you cum again before i shoot my load in ya’, then you can have a breather before round two”

Your eyes went wide; this was still only round one? Fuck, Sy was an utter beast and as he tilted his hips and his dick hit just the right spot, your eyes rolled back in their sockets and your jaw hung open, the pleasure running through your veins turning your brain to jelly and all you could comprehend was Sy fucking the living daylights out of you. 

Starting to tremble, your sighs became squeaks which became screams of his name as you started to cum and it kept going, your body squeezing him tighter than a vice before he finally came with a beastly roar, shooting ropes of his creamy seed and coating velvet walls. 

The pair of you slumped down onto the bed, your bodies still joined as he pressed kisses to the back of your neck. Finally he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss of his warmth and weight on top of you, instinctively rolling and curling up against his side as you rested your head on his chest, the song of his heartbeat strong and steady beneath your ear;

“Fuck… that was amazing”

He gently stroked one hand over your back;

“You can say that again Darlin’. Your pussy is like heaven… never had a cunt grip me so tight and be able to take me balls deep before...”

You smiled and let your eyes rest for a moment, before you felt him shift and the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle disturbed your post orgasmic bliss. Looking up you saw him oof the cork out of his mouth before bringing the bottle of tequila to his lips and taking a large mouthful. Holding the bottle to you he grinned as you sat up and took it, following suit and still wincing at the burn as the expensive liquid slid down your throat. 

Just at that moment there was a massive crack of thunder outside and an immediate flash of light, before the electricity fizzled out, plunging you into darkness. You weren’t afraid of the dark but the suddenness of it made you squeal, Sy pulling you close;

“Shhh its ok Darlin’, this place gets its power knocked out all the time cos’ its up on the hill here. That’s why there’s candles in every room”

He deftly slid out of your grasp and you heard him fumbling around on the floor before he illuminated the room with his phone, and you watched as his silhouette made its way across the room and you heard the click of a lighter. Moments later the room had a pale glow from the candles that had sat on the side table, and as he carried one back to bed you saw that he was still hard;

“How are you…”

“Still up? Oh Darlin’ i can go eight or nine rounds before i droop”

“Eight or… nine…”

He flopped down onto the bed beside where you sat, his hands behind his head and a wide smile on his face;

“So, what do ya’ wanna do next?”

You laughed softly  before taking another sip of tequila, toying with the little hat that was attached to it before a sudden urge overtook your senses. With a look of amusement on his face Sy watched as you took the hat from the bottle and softly tied it to his dick, the hat standing proud on his tip;

“A perfect fit” he remarked, but before either of you could say anything else a knock at the door interrupted you.

“Babe?” a quiet voice came from the other side of the door; “You in there?”

Your heart sank;

“Its my ex… I’m gonna go tell him to fuck off…”

Sy caught your arm gently, a grin on his face;

“Let me”

What happened next was something you could only have dreamt of, and as you pulled a pillow in front of you to hide your nakedness, Sy basked in his own naked glory as he strode to the door and pulled it open;

“Yes?”

Your ex stood in the hallway outside your room, his bags at his feet;

“What are you…?”

“I’m busy keeping my girl happy. What’re you doing here?”

“I got dumped…”

“Well champ, that sounds like a you problem…”

Without another word Sy stepped back and shut the door, making sure to flip the security lock extra hard so that your ex could hear it from the hallway. Striding back to the bed you couldn’t help but to laugh;

“I can’t believe you answered the door completely naked, hard, and with a mini sombrero on your dick!”

Climbing onto the bed he lay on his back, his hands behind his head as he grinned at you, wriggling his hips so his hard dick swayed to and fro with the hat still attached;

“Oh i think it made the moment all that more memorable Darlin’”

“He’ll certainly remember it, that’s for sure”

You carefully took the little adornment off of Sy, tossing it aside as you straddled his hips and grasped his hot shaft, helping to find your waiting entrance before sinking down onto him. 

The feeling of taking him inch by inch was almost overwhelming; thick and gnarled, his fat dick stretched you in every direction, and you were thankful for the added lubrication of his cum already dripping out of you.

As you started to ride him you could feel your body already deceiving you and climbing towards a rapid orgasm, and you found yourself cupping your breasts and twisting your nipples to distract yourself and let it last just a little longer. However when Sy’s massive hands rested on your hips and he started to thrust up into you, it was the beginning of the end. The final straw was when he slid one hand to your front, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing quick circles firmly against the engorged bud did it send you over the edge and you were coming again, back arched and head thrown back as your bodies moved as one in the candlelight.

-

Sy fucked you until the storm cleared and the candles fizzled out, just the moonlight illuminating your room when you both crawled under the duvet and fell asleep, sweaty bodies cooling in the night, sated from your energetic lovemaking.

Come morning and you were woken up by a series of featherlight kisses to your naked back and shoulders. For the briefest moment panic set in, but then you remembered your bed companion from the night before;

“Mmm Mornin’ Darlin’” he drawled, his voice low and coarse from sleep.

Turning you smiled at him before his lips caught yours for a gentle kiss. What followed was the best oral you’d ever received, followed by a steamy session of shower sex where for the first time in your life you’d felt confident that your partner was strong enough to not let you slip and injure yourself. 

The following room service breakfast had been thoroughly enjoyable where the two of you had talked and laughed, swapped numbers and both made it clear you’d like to see the other again. Sy had even driven you back to the train station, where you’d attracted the odd few stares as he’d kissed you with tongues and teeth before giving your ass a squeeze. 

-

Two weeks later.

Sy fiddled with the zippered pocket on his fatigues as he waited nervously outside the meeting room at the corporate offices. After what had seemed like an amazing night with you, he’d arrived at work on Monday to discover one of his boot camp cadets had made a formal complaint about his ‘lewd behaviour’. He knew it wasn’t you, but it had distracted him from the string of text’s you’d shared in the following days. He was thankful that you’d told him not to apologise, having started your new job and that was full on from the word go.

The door to the meeting room opened and his name was called, standing he smoothed his shirt down and nodded before entering the room. This was probably the most nervous he’d been since leaving the army; at least there if you fucked up you got a court marshall, now he was a civilian if he lost his job it meant he couldn’t pay his bills.

-

You were attempting to get a file out of the huge stack that sat on your desk without knocking your coffee over when your office door opened and a friendly face peered around the corner;

“Hey, you ready for the disciplinary hearing?”

“The what?... Oh, right… let me find the file…”

“Did you read it?”

Shaking your head you grinned at the manager of offsite contractors;

“Don’t worry, i’ve skimmed it. You guys brought me in to sort through this mess my predecessor left behind, I just wasn’t expecting it to be this much of a mess…”

Grabbing your coffee and the file with that day's date on, you followed your colleague through the building, attempting to scan over the complaint, frowning when you saw that the printer been running out of toner and had omitted the two parties names. Nevermind, you could always write those in.

Chewing on your pen as you shut the meeting room door, you quickly took a seat at the end of the table, looking up and only then your eyes going wide. On one side sat your ex, and someone that looked like a low rate lawyer judging by the cheap suit and even cheaper briefcase. On the other side sat Sy - Captain Syverson - whose eyes were as big as saucers and you saw the slightest hint of a smile start to tug at the corner of his mouth before he restored his poker face.

The manager introduced himself and then you;

“This is our new Human Resources manager, she’ll be overseeing this meeting”

Taking one last look at your report you took a sip of your drink before standing, keeping your face neutral;

“So, your client alleges that our employee acted in a lewd manner whilst on a team building exercise two weeks ago?”

“That is right Miss, you see…”

“And that your client wishes to pursue a lawsuit based on ‘emotional distress’ and that our employee caused the breakdown of his relationship”

“Yes Miss, Its like this you see…”

Cutting the lawyer off again, you looked pointedly at your ex;

“So, did you or did you not actually end the relationship with your partner, before even meeting Captain Syverson? Actually there’s no need to answer, i have a transcript of the text messages here…” you looked down at your your file, although you knew the texts by heart; “And i quote “I’ve found someone new, someone prettier than you, she’s better in bed too”

You looked up at your ex who was now sinking down into his chair;

“And by lewd behaviour, did you or did you not approach your ex’s bedroom at the hotel in the middle of the night, and continue to knock on her bedroom door whilst there was a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door?”

The lawyer attempted to talk, but yet again you cut him off;

“So therefore, you had no emotional or romantic relationship with the person whose room it was, and therefore as fully consenting adults, our employee and your ex, were perfectly within their rights to start a romantic relationship, were they not?” you took a deep breath; “And, as you have a history of making civil lawsuits against companies that you have deemed you ‘wrong’, this frivolous attempt at extortion has now been recorded, and will be submitted to the authorities”

You lifted your phone before setting it back down onto the table. You hadn’t been recording, but it was enough for your ex’s lawyer to stand and leave the room quickly, your ex scurrying close behind. Leaning to the manager you cleared your throat;

“You might want to make sure security escorts them completely offsite”

“Absolutely. Can i leave you debrief Syverson?”

“Leave it with me”

You shut the door behind him as he left, and felt the warmth of Sy’s body behind you;

“This is a very unexpected, but oh so pleasant surprise”

Turning in his arms you were thankful that there were no internal windows to this meeting room, kissing him deeply before the giant bear of a man pulled away and smiled softly at you;

“I need to buy you dinner for what you did… you’re fucking badass”

“How did you not know what the meeting was about?”

“They just told me it was ‘lewd behaviour’. I’d been wracking my mind for the last week to figure out what i may have said or done… yeah i yell at people for a living, but i’m never lewd…”

Placing your palm on his cheek you smiled at him;

“Dinner sounds good by the way”

“Come over to my place tonight, i’ll cook you dinner”

“Will there be dessert?”

Sy licked his lips, his gaze travelling down your body and back up again;

“There definitely will be for me… i’m sure i’ve got some cookies you can have too Darlin”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life After Snowpiercer: End of the Line

Summery- Matts Alive! Curtis is given a choice, learns the truth about the kids, You are attacked, and also still alive! Some non con implied, but all mild. 

Word Count- 5806

Chapter 4 / Masterlist 

Curtis just shook his head in disbelief at the man before him, certainly grown up from the eleven year old boy he knew, but somethings never change. His eyes, Your eyes looking back at him, but they held a bit of coldness in them that yours didnt. “H-ow? What is going on. They TOOK you Matt.”Although Curtis always assured you to hold out hope Matt was alive, he knew the likelihood was not good, but he could have hope to keep you from feeling hopeless. Then after you had healed, accepted that it was a possibility, you still had the nightmares, crying in the dark for your brother, Curtis waking to your sobs and cradling you in close to protect you... of course he couldnt let you suffer like that. But here Matt was, alive.

“Yea, Wilford saved me Curtis from a life of shit. You all did this to yourselves back there. Always plotting and scheming to take control of what isnt fucken yours.” Matt looked his nose down at Curtis, glancing away at Claude and smiling fondly at her. “She knew that I wasnt like that, did you sweetheart?” He caressed the womans face and leaned down to peck her lips. “Nams still alive out there, can you watch over him and his daughter till were finished in here.” She complied with a soft nod, leaving the three men alone.

Wilford cleared his throat. “Oh trust me Curtis, Matt took a while to understand what the truth was. But he came around, didnt you son?” Smiling almost loving at Matt. “He understands what the train needs from him, and Im an old man now, I wont be here forever. You and Matt working together, well this train is my legacy and will continue on forever. With some help of course.” He moved to open a cupboard and Timmy crawled out, Curtis eyes widening at this next shock. Timmy to was alive! The boy just ignored Curtis though and proceeded to go up the stairs, and enter in a car.

“Timmy? What are you doing, get back here?!” Curtis called to the boy, but he merely buckled himself in and whoosh, he was gone. Curtis turned to look at Wilford and Matt “Where the fuck did he go?!”

“Into the engine of course, it builds up crud, and kids like Timmy, they clear it out, also run some of the gears that need help. Reason we need all those kids from the tail end is although the train is self sustaining, the parts wear out. Many have gone extinct, and we have no way to replace them anymore. We ran out of metal for workers to mold. So we need someone who can fit into tight spaces. Gotta be about 4 or 5, you tail enders are always so scrawny. When they outsize, we replace them.”

Jesus fucking christ... how many kids have they taken over the years? At least over 2 dozen. Oh Curtis.... He could hear your sorrow now, it broke your voice, picture the tears streaming down your face as you mourned for all those babies you all lost in the tale end. Curtis growled out “What happens once they age out?”

Matt rolled his shoulders nonchalant like “Well if someone here wants one, they can just take them as there own, or if no one else can use them in there service, we execute them. Originally we were just gonna bring them back, but hell over crowding has started becoming an issue. You all really need to learn more creative fucking methods. What was the term you used the other day Wilford? ‘Like a bunch of god damn rabbits back there?” He chuckled at his attempt of wit.

What the fuck did they do to you Matt?!

They have no idea, thought Curtis, all the people they broke taking the children. The parents weve found that died because it broke there heart, shattered there will to live. How many women in the tail end lived in FEAR, not at the dangers of child birth, but that they might lose there children and can not stop it. How many times you confessed to him that you just couldnt get pregnant, it was just to dangerous to bring a life into all this, although he knew that you want nothing more then to be a mom one day. They had no idea they caused all that pain.

Curtis, they fully know. They just dont care. Your voice flat, the truth.

Wilford shook his head, chuckling “Now now, we need them more now then ever. As I said before, the front end and tail end work together. We provide them with shelter, food and safety, they provide us with necessary replacement train parts and the occasional entertainment of cleaning up the excess baggage the train carries. Already were running smoother then before thanks to The Great Curtis Revolution.” That fucker is was still trying to make that a thing, Curtis could already see you rolling your eyes.

Matt cheerfully turned back towards Curtis. “And I heard that Y/N will be coming  up to the front, since you two seem to be an item now. I say Curtis you will have more options now then just her if you want. Im sure after all this time your getting bored of her. Although I cant say Im surprised about you two, she always followed you since she met you like a little whimpering puppy. How is she anyways? I haven't thought about her in a while till Wilford brought you up. I suspect shes well.”

Curtis brows came together in anger at the mans words, at everything. That was his sister and he talked about her as if she was just a item Curtis happened to have possession of. “You havent thought about her? Your fucken kidding right? That woman constantly thinks about you, every damn day. Everything she does for others in the tail end is in your memory Matt. Even after all these years she has nightmares about how she couldnt save you, She thinks you will hate her because she cant get to you. And you havent thought about her this whole time?!” Curtis started laughing, shaking his head at all of it. Anger just making him snap at this point. “I cant believe im having this conversation with you of all people Matt. Fuck my life, they brainwashed you man. Everything about this.” Curtis waved his hand around and looked back at Matt, the laughter having died, now it was just cold facts he was raging out. “All this, its maybe more messed up then us starving and eating people, we were just trying to survive. You all think your some kind of gods for supposedly saving us and were a fucking game, you cant see why its so fucked up though, can you?!.”

Matt looked appalled over the outburst and Wilford spoke up “God Curtis your so over dramatic, cant you loosen up? Your acting like the fate of the world rests on you. Trust me, you have no control over that, and sounds like a good thing. I doubt you could handle that pressure. Look at you, so tightly wound.” Wilford made a motion like he had gone stiff, shaking.

Matt snorted in anger at the situation. “You act like you all werent happy for me, that it was my fault I earned my place by Wilfords side.” he basically spat out this next line. “That I should even care about what happened to either of you. That I deserved to be in that same shit hole as you? Wilford you really cant be serious about having Curtis be our Minister. He still lives in the old world view, has yet to embrace new world values. We are FUCKING GODS Curtis, make no mistake. Our word is the law on this train. People like my sister, all this for the people bullshit yall preached back there all the time, have no real place here. You both will get it soon enough.”

This was the final straw, Curtis couldnt, he just couldnt deal with the vile they were spewing, the lives they themselves sacrificed to try to kill him, and it was all a game to them, let alone the friends Curtis dragged into danger to get him here. With a twist, he tackled Wilford first, he had a pistol in his robes, it made sense. His right hand reared back and he caught the man unaware. When Curtis fist impacted, Wilfords head snapped back with a gush of blood exploding from his mouth and nose, those iced blue eyes rolled back and yes, it was that easy to just knock his senses askew.

Matt on the other hand had the upper hand, and he tried locking Curtis arms to his side, but a quick whip with his head backwards cracked against Mats face, and he howled out in anger and pain, releasing his hold against Curtis and cupping his face. “Your Fucker! You son of a bitch, I will kill you!” he screamed out. Clearly Matt forgot anything he learned in the tail end, cause he didnt even prepare for Curtis kick of his heavy treaded boots, hitting squarely in the chest and threw him back into the kitchenette.

Reaching wildly, Matt was able to grasp hold of a butcher knife from a black, slashing it so completely out of sync, that as Curtis ascended on him, he ducked backwards quickly when it wildly arched to him and his hand grabbed Mats wrist, twisting and crushing it in his single hand as he drew in close to the man, his hand grabbing his other hand to keep him from hitting him. “I would like to see you try, I came up here expecting alot more then over privileged cum stains like yourselves. Your finished.” He twisted Matts wrist further till he heard a snap, the knife clashing to the metal floor. Matt howled, not one of those cries out of pain, no this was a howl that almost sounded animalistic, he wrung his hand out of Curtis grasp and cradled it to his chest. Wasting no more time, Curtis ended up bashing his head into the overhead cupboards till he felt him go limp, releasing him to the floor. “Y/N, your brothers a fucking dick...” he muttered to himself.

One last issue to really take care of, Claude, she was out there guarding Yona and Nam. He heard her voice from outside of the gate, and going up behind it, he waited till he could see her yellow arm stretch beyond the gate, gun pointing inwards “Mat? answer me hon” and at that moment, Curtis pushed the door as hard as possible, crushing her into the door frame. She yelped out in pain and Curtis reached around to fist his hand in her hair and drag her into the room, kicking at her hand until it knocked the gun out. “Yona get in here now.” Claude hissed as she twisted and turned to get loose from Curtis and he gave her a vigorous shake to stun her, her hands trying to tug his loose from her scalp. “Your dead buddy, wait till Matt finds out you even touched me with your filthy paws.”

“I dont think hes doing much for a while sweetheart” Curtis promised her when Yona appeared in the room, wrinkling her nose at the scene before her. “We thought they would have killed you Curtis” She said softly while Nam followed along behind, sluggish. His face was pale and the rag he had pressed in his chest was soaked, still dripping big heavy drops of blood, gravity making a steady drip drip drip echo softly in this metal dungeon. “Not yet, they had other ideas apparently. Yona, can you sense where Timmy is? He went into the engine and we got to pull him out.” She had displayed hints of Clairvoyance throughout there journey, and she nodded, turning away to start searching. Claude chose this moment to start up again, smacking Curtis right in his gut and groin causing him to cuss out and tighten his grip in her hair to keep from releasing her.

“Fucken bitch” he hissed and having had enough of her, he knocked her upside the head, her screaming the whole time till she to went silent as her partners, she to was simply dropped to the floor with a thump. Still trying to catch his air once again, the ache going dull easy to ignore. Dont underestimate them Curtis a familiar whispered voice came to him, taking quick glances at the other two. He went to check Wilford, collecting his pistol still in his robe, and hobbled over to where Claude lost hers near the door. Handing one off to Nam, he spoke softly to him, to keep Yona from breaking concentration. “Are you okay?”

“Yea im fine.” The man grunted in his language, loosely translated by the box hanging off his neck. Just then he coughed and spat a wad of blood. It was clear he wasnt fine, just from the way he was wheezing, Curtis guessed at this point his lungs were filling with fluid. He had heard it before with others in the tail end. No one here was trained to drain it either, sure now that anyone who could was probably dead. He gave Nam a knowing look and the man cast a downwards glance. “Dont tell Yona, not yet.”

It was then Yona sprawled to the floor, clawing to pry up a tile “Curtis, hes here! Hes right under the tile.” her fingers scrambled against the smooth tile, and Curtis grabbed the abandoned butcher knife, wedging the tip into a crack, pushing till it popped open. What they opened was unlike anything Curtis had seen before. The small boy was squatting among the gears, digging his hands into chunks of oily gunk and digging it out, flinching every now and then when a piece of metal gear would cut shallowly into him, his arms were covered in bloody shallow knicks. Robotic like motions, he plunged his hand into the gunk and scooped out a handful. “Timmy! Timmy look up!” The little boy looked up, but it wasnt like he was seeing Curtis, more like through him. Curtis whats wrong with him? “Timmy you gotta get out of there, can you go back out?” I dont know Baby, I dont know what they done to him.

The boy just ignored him, his sightless gaze going back to the task at hand, and it was then Wilford made his presence known with a heavy groan, pushing himself up to a sit, swiping at his face. “Maybe I made a mistake with you Curtis... “ His gaze bleary as he sought out Curtis and Yona kneeling over the hole. “You just dont get what were doing here, cant see the bigger picture.” He moved to get up and Nam came between them, wheezing worst then before but ready to defend them. They were running out of time and Curtis knew it. A glance at his hand was the resolve he needed. I mean, it was the sacrifice he originally was going to make in a sense anyways. And into the gears his arm shot, stopping everything in its tracks, almost immediantly the gears all locked up, the train shuddered and wobbled unsteady.

Nam was blocking Wilford from ascending, but was struggling, surprise the gun had no fucking bullets in it, Yona reached in the gaps and stretched to reach for Timmy, who still seemed oblivious to what was going on above them. “Please Timmy, take my hand.” She turned her head to the side and stretched further, facing Matt whom now was starting to groan as well, Yona started to panic “Curtis, fuck hes waking up!” Panting through the pain of his arm getting crushed in the gears, he glanced to see Matt roll to his back, covering his face with a series of curses. Curtis, get my baby out of there, please! This time it was Tonyas voice yelling at him to save her child. Pushing Yona back with his free hand, he shot it into the one slot Timmy might fit through and grasped the boys skinny arm, hauling him up and pushing him to Yona who wrapped him up in her arms and started to pull back.

Matts foot connected squarely with Cutis jaw, wrenching his arm out of the gears, half skinning it in the process, his whole body flinging backwards. The enraged man landed on Curtis, trying to choke him out with his single hand, his broke wrist still cradling against his chest. Even with both short the use of an arm, Curtis was able to overpower him, pushing him to sprawl backwards. In there scuffle, the gun Curtis had tucked away in his jacket fell out and in both of there lunge to retrieve it, they scuffled it across the floor to land in the open hole. Matts eyes widened a bit “Oh shit!” It took a second for Curtis to understand what the issue was, yes that gun was loaded and it was currently twisting into the gears, making the entire train shudder, then a ping ping ping!

The pressure had set off the bullets in the weapon, and all around them steam shot out of the pipes. Everyone stopped what they were doing, looking around with fear at the reaction, and there was another mighty shudder. “Its gonna go off the tracks, good job fuckers!” Wilford hissed out in a panicked rage. Another shudder and the nose of the train must have hit something, an ice block on the tracks Baby your voice sounding scared in his confused mind, cause it jerked upwards, loosing traction on the track, without the wheels working in tandem to keep the forward momentum. It scrambled everyone, slamming them to the left side, Curtis skidded on his backside, crashing into Matt, who slammed into the kitchenette cabinets. The kids they went flying backwards towards the half opened gate, falling into the car just behind, Wilford and Nam entangled together smashed into the bolted down kitchen table. Claude, she screamed in fear at just waking up to everyone being whipped around spinning backwards across the floor. The engine started to tip to its side. The side of the Engine suddenly was ripped away with a screech of metal and sparks, having hit cliff side rocks. Wilford and Nam got sucked out of the giant hole, and thats when Curtis went black, something falling and smashing him in the skull.

During this time, in the tail end, James was dragging you back down the aisle, your body bouncing against random bunks and junk scattered around from where they had torn everything apart. Finally he tossed you to sprawl on the ground and fell on your stomach, bouncing enough to knock the air out of you. “I thought we already talked about this hunny, just be a good girl and spread them. Not that I dont like it when you all fight a bit.” Thinking he had subdued you, he pulled back to hike up your coat and shirts to what he claimed as his prize. .

Taking a chance you twist and shoot a foot out to hit him in his chest to topple backwards and start to crawl away, but a large hand encircled your ankle and jerk you to fall on your belly with a omph! Panicked, your hands shoot out under a bunk to see if theres anything to hold onto. Your hand closes around a small shard, fitting in the palm. You snatch it as he keeps dragging you back, flipping you to your back with a smirk.

Calm down Y/N, wait for the right opportunity. Of course it was Curtis calm voice, the one he used when he was bringing you back from a panic attack. You take a deep breath, and change tactics on James, stopping trying to fight, you hold up a hand in surrender. “Please, I give! What do you want?” James hand fisted in your mess of hair, tipping your head back till your throat was exposed. Dragging his tongue over you, you fight back a wave of bile burning your throat at the feeling of the man all over you. “well what do you think sweetheart, I want your sweet pussy gripping the best dick you ever had and begging for more.” God how the fuck do you not gag at that. Concentrate Baby. Praise how good he is. you shudder in the mans grip as he starts to palm a bruised breast, twisting it painfully like before. Do I really have to Curtis?

Trust me Babygirl

“You made me feel so damn good last time, and I was so ungrateful.” trying to make your voice husky with false lust and looking up at him wide eyed. Reaching up you cup James face and bite your lip, giving it your all. “But how about this time you let me make you feel good? A thank you.” Leaning up your brush your lips against his, really putting your all into drawing him into the kiss. Fucker fell for it, and he got caught up in what you were doing with your tongue, where your hands were running all over him, palming his crotch through his pants. “Biggest ive ever had” Cant believe Im saying this. God I hate you bastards. You were fighting everything in you to not start crying in disgust. Finally when he was panting against your lips, you push him hard enough to make him roll, his hands grasping your hips to have you follow, and now.... now you fucking dick head, I have you right where I want you, you think triumphant when you straddle his stomach.

That you do baby, you know what to do next. Curtis hissed in your mind. Dont hesitate, hard and quick.

Arching up, you smile so sweetly at James looking up at you hazily. “God I knew you were a good fuck, but this is even better then I thought it could be.Tell me im the best, better then whatever his name was.” Tracing his chest, and winking at him to respond. “Oh baby, Curtis was nothing like you.” And with a quick twist of your wrist, you shove that shard of metal in his eye, pressing down hard and quick with your palm as you could. You literally felt it pop, and the warmth of blood shoot against your palm. “Hes every fucking thing a man should be!” Smashing your hand against the next vulnerable part of him, his nose, he bucks in pain underneath you, shooting you off. Tumbling, you scramble up and start running towards the back as James is screeching, dodging the unsuspecting hands of other guards reaching out of the bunks they were laying in, some of them following James choices and there captives started to fight back in the confusion you caused. “GET THAT WHORE!” James screeching, his hand covering his eye as he struggled up, red gore oozing between his fingers.

You were looking for anyplace to hide when thrown off your feet violently.

It wasnt another person, the train started rattling on its tracks and screeching, fishtailing back and forth. One violent turn and you were flung into the bars of a bunk, screaming out as pain blossomed white hot through your spine, tumbling now. Bottom was above you, crashing onto what should have been the roof of the train, items pelting you, bouncing off and crushing you. Your cries of shock and pain turning ragged when it all rolled once more, going right side up, the kids and other survivors going through a similar experience, whipping around and around as it kept rolling and bouncing. The back end of the train had gone off the side of a cliff and falling into a valley under the tracks. everyone whipped around and around, till it crashed to a stand still.

Groaning you push up under a bunch of random debris, and try to focus. Leaning over and puking from the dizziness, you push away from the mess and look around at other passengers and guards pushing themselves out of the mess, somewhere bright light was streaming in. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, you have to figure out how to get one of there guns before they take control again. Pushing up, you stumble around people, some of them eerily still, twisted bodies and blank stares. Not all survived. Relief flooded you as you saw more and more kids scrambling to your side. “Quick, find anything we can use as a weapon.” urging them with a hushed voice, they scattered to fulfill your request. Coming across a dead guard, your quick to strip him off anything valuables. Shouldering a rifle over your shoulder, more children and some of the women came back, fight in the adults eyes, most of the kids holding something they could use.

“Hey, Yall get yer asses back here!” some fucker drawled heavy accented, and a look over your shoulder saw that they had rejoined ranks. “Quick, get out that hole!” You urge your group, scrambling back the opposite way where the light was, bullets whizzed at you, ducking just in time, it clipped a woman next to you, fuck it was the woman who helped you before, Sara. Sara cried out grabbing her shoulder. Grabbing her waist, you tug her to follow along and aim the automatic rifle in your hand, just randomly shooting behind you as she climbed up to fall out of the hole with a yelp. No one followed you as you to scrambled out, maybe for once luck was on your side, there seemed to be alot less of them then there was of you survivors.

Crashing rather ungracefully over the edge of the train car, you land in the snow, and blinded you try looking around, drawing in for the first time in 18 years, fresh air. It burned your lungs,the intense cold and just that it was so god damn clean. Looking around your surrounded by cliffs, and as your eyes go into focus you can see where you all went over the edge, snow still rolling down, and scattered around you was a few more cars, above one hung precariously over the edge. Fuck, how did you all survive that? “Y/N, what do we do?” What do you do? What would Curtis do? You all had never discussed being on the outside. “We have to get away from here, they will be coming out any second after us.” Everyone shivered around you, wrapping arms around themselves. The entire group surrounding you wouldnt make it for long without shelter and heat.  

“Curtis” You voice was soft, he missed that.

“Hey baby” He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

“Curtis” You looked lost to him, confused.

“Im right here Babes” He held out an hand to reach for you.

“CURTIS” Why wouldnt you take his hand?

”Babygirl, whats wrong?” Striding over to reach for You, his brows coming together in confusion.

“CURTIS!” Fear and Panic etched all over you

He sat straight up with a gasp, Yona falling back from where she had been leaning over him, her face a look of fear and shock, tears tracking down her face. “What the fuck happened?!” Curtis cussed as he wildly looked around, Timmy was rocking on his heels next to Curtis, and he reached over to touch the boy, make sure he was real. “Yona... wheres Nam?” The girl shook her head, and straightened from where he knocked her over.

“Wilford and Dad are not here. That guy and girl are, over there.” She pointed among the mess. “But they wont wake up, I checked.” Curtis moved to get up, wincing. There was something broken, just ribs hopefully. He wouldnt be taking deep breaths anytime soon. And then his gaze went to his mangled hand, Okay this is more serious. Wincing as he pulled his sleeve over it to protect it, it had at least clotted enough to stop bleeding but had no idea what the real damage was yet on it. Timmy just stayed rocking nearby, Curtis debating what to do, the boy had obviously been traumatized by what had happened. But at this point, there was more pressing matters. “Yona, grab that butcher knife” Somehow they still had it.

Going to a panel, Curtis inspected it and with the knife, they managed to pry it off, and tossing the panel to the side. Ahhh, bingo, Curtis tested the wires and finding them not live wires, he started to pull and yank them out. “Cut these, a good three feet at least” He stretched it out, and Yona started slicing back and forth. Right now his first worry was Matt and Claude coming around before they could be tied up. He probably should just kill them after everything, but Curtis was just done with death. At least for now, and if You ever found out he had killed your brother, He simply couldnt. Claude, well we will see what ends up happening with that bitch. You snigger. Curtis had to hide a bit of a laugh, apparently his imagination made you a bit dark.

Yona, well he would be royally screwed without the girl, she was nimble and quick with her knots, the two of them dragging the still unconscious duo to a wall, tying them tight and far apart so they couldnt help one another, Curtis finally sighed in relief. At least for now he didnt have to worry about them at the moment. Yona again came to the rescue,having found coats in the other car, wrapping her and Timmy up.

“Theres a way out in the other car Curtis, a few are outside, just... standing around. I think they are high still.” Her own eyes bleary, it occurred to Curtis she to was coming down from the kronoles and alcohol she consumed on the trudge to the front. His voice soft “Are you okay yourself?” She twitched a bit and nodded. “Just after effects, nothing I havent felt before.” Curtis didnt like it, but he had to trust her, completely out of options. Yona took Timmys hand and together the three of them worked there way out of the Engine, and the next car, well it wasnt much better off then theres was, completely flipped over, several dead. Curtis was still questioning how they even made it out. What about the tail end? You? The anxiety of not knowing.... A deep breath was drawn in, and made him instantly regret that, fuck my ribs.

Popping his head out, rubbing at his face, he took it in. Oh God your voice echoes, and before him, stretched across the blinding whiteness of where you all ended up, was just destruction, chaos, and more death. Twisted metal cars, split open to spill out its contents to scatter across the snow, it seemed like the end wasnt to bad off the further he looked down the line, but shouldnt there be more?

Wheres the rest of the train Curtis?

Were going to go find out Y/N, Im not leaving you out there alone.

Nearby there was a small group of people, most of them were hiding in heavy fur coats, and watching them for a moment, Curtis pegged Yona to be right. These fuckers are high as a god damn kite. There were a few though, that looked more put together, and Curtis recognized one of them, his eyes narrowing. Right now he didnt have any of the typical gear on, but it was one of the men who would bring there protein bars. Wonder how many you I got to deal with? Curtis sighed, fuck he was so tired suddenly. “TImmy climb on my back” He ordered and squatted enough for the boy to wrap his arms around his neck. Going to the edge, he deemed it safe enough and jumped down, stifling a groan at the jolt in his ribs. His hand, god that was just a steady throb.

Yona inched to the edge, her feet coming over the edge, and she slid off as much as possible till she landed on Curtis shoulder, his arm wrapping around her thighs to keep her from tipping over and easing down for her to get off. As he straightened the men whom he dared guessed were some of the guards came over, they were scuffed, but not bad off as Curtis nearly was, and he braced himself for the typical aggression he knew from them, but they all held up there hands in a peace sign.

“Seriously man, were not going to do anything.” Curtis took a step back from them anyways, keeping the kids behind him. Yona peaked around him warily, studying them.

“Curtis right? weve heard of you. Listen, we have to look for survivors, this group over here is kind of useless right now, and these cars might have people trapped.” One started, another picked up.

“Front, Back.... it makes no difference now, Theres probably not enough left to make it count.”

“Right... suddenly im supposed to believe you all have a good conscious?” Curtis sure as hell wasnt going to trust them, 18 years of entrapment will do that to a man. Yona tugged on his jacket, and he spared her a look.

“Good, they will help us.” He nodded encouragment, and his gut twisted. The girl hadnt been wrong yet, but his mistrust and instinct was still was over riding that. He trusted another, and betrayed everything he believed in.

Curtis she hasnt been wrong yet, shes special.

Alright Alright, he thought, holding out his uninjured hand, he growled out. “truce for now... we wont give you any trouble. Were making our way towards the back to check on our people.” One of the guards winced.

“The back? We were coming over a bridge when the train derailled. Honestly the fact any of this is still here is shocking. Im sure the back end came off the rest of the train and went over the cliff side. A fall like that in a hunk of metal.” The man shrugged in a im sorry motion “The chances are not great anyone in those cars would survive such a fall. The tail end, its gone. Any survivors will be making there way up this way.” He looked over his shoulder and sure enough, people were slowly coming in groups. “Slim, the chances are slim, but... maybe...”

Slim, the chances were slim, but... maybe... it was all Curtis heard after he said those words. 

@what-is-your-plan-today​ @curtisbbq​ @jtargaryen18​ @p8tn0lish​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​

[baka-monarch]

Butch also is like “Christianity cures autism” “being shy is selfish” “you can’t hate my shows if you don’t animate” the whole shit with Oasis (his streaming service that’s Christian but didn’t say it was Christian until after it reached its goal and never did anything with the money so he basically stole money and ran), never paid an artist, $200 commissions, a lot of which are traced. Honestly I can go on and on about how shitty the self proclaimed “creator of your childhood” is

Jesus fucking christ....

Yeah, I didn't know, nobody was talking about it, and just yelling "HATE!!!!!!!" and I was scared to stop supporting him because I wasn't sure what had happened, but yeah th at is really fucking bad!

Especially since:

I'm bi, poly, and nb

I have autism

I grew up on his shows and used th endor escapism, but just because I had liked it doesn't mean that o th E people shouldn't hate it, weather th ey can animate it not. I mean hell, I can barely draw coherently!

Yeah, he ca go die in a fucking hole.

[spookyold-saintjm]

Care - Part 2

[gif: @starsfleets]

Javier Peña x female reader

| Part 1 | | Part 3 |

Warnings: language, sexual references

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: The day after your conversation with Javier, things are bit tense between you in the office.

a/n: So I decided to make this one a short series! Probably only another couple chapters, but I’ve been dying to write a little Javi again so here we are. If you’d like to be tagged in future updates don’t be afraid to ask! Much love. x

———

“You look fresh back from a trip to hell.”

Jesus, you had just walked into the room. Your hair was at least somewhat disheveled, your shirt probably wasn’t tucked in all the way, and your head was slightly tilted downward both because you wanted to avoid drawing attention to the dark circles under your bloodshot eyes, and because the lights in this building were so damn bright and jarring. Who the hell thought this lighting was a good idea? Could you get them fired? Fuck them. And fuck Steve, too.

You stopped in front of his desk, as he stared at you with furrowed brows despite the twitch of a smirk threatening to break across his face. Apparently, it was quite obvious that you’d had a rough night.

You rested your hands flat against his desk, your head drooping all the way downward before slowly rolling it back up so that you could meet his eyes and reply flatly, “Shit, Murphy. You could charm the pants off damn near anybody with talk like that.”

From behind you, you heard Javier snort at your words as he sifted through files at his own desk. Your muscles tensed at the sound, but you pretended as if you hadn’t heard him.

Steve only blinked back at you, his smile almost widening as he rolled his pen between his fingers. “What brings you in here?”

“I’m out of smokes.”

He let out a small sigh before reaching for the drawer in his desk to pull out the carton of cigarettes he kept there. You held out your hand as he dropped one of them into your palm, then mumbled a low thanks as you reached for your lighter in your shirt pocket.

“Glad to be of service,” Steve replied, looking back down to his paperwork. “I thought you were supposed to be sitting in on a meeting downstairs?”

“I’m headed there next,” You replied, sitting on the corner of Steve’s desk while you lit the cigarette between your lips. 

You couldn’t help it; your eyes flicked across the room to where Javier sat as you took the first long drag, but you didn’t bother to actually acknowledge him beyond letting your eyes lock for the seconds that you released the smoke from your lungs in a slow exhale. “I wouldn’t dare skip out on a date with Coronel Carrillo.”  

Javier had opened his mouth to speak, but his jaw suddenly clamped shut. You then turned your gaze as if you’d never seen him sitting there at all.

Steve had looked up long enough to catch this silent exchange between the two of you before he replied. “Yeah, well, try not to linger too long so that the three of us can finish going over these tapes when you’re done.”

“No promises.” You kept your voice even as you joked. You stood from where you’d been perched at the edge of Steve’s desk, and slightly raised the hand that held the cigarette between your fingers in an appreciative gesture. “Thanks for your contribution.”

Steve shrugged. “Any time.”

As soon as you were out of the office and out of sight, Steve’s head jerked over toward where Javier sat, stone-silent, staring hard at his desk with a pen in his hand but having yet to write a single word.

“You gotta be kidding me, Javi.”

Javier didn’t look up. “About what?”

“Don’t start that shit.” Steve sighed. He jerked his head toward the door you’d walked out of just moments before. “How long has that been going on?”

Javi was shuffling through files in his desk drawer; whether he was actually working or just trying to look busy could have been up to anyone’s best guess. “There’s nothing going on.”

Steve sighed and dropped his head into his hands with an exhausted chuckle as Javi only further confirmed his suspicions. “Jesus Christ, Peña.” Even for Javi, getting involved with someone in the office, someone in such close contact almost ever hour of every work day…it was risky. If not just flat-out stupid.

Steve lifted his head, looking back over to his partner. “You know how much trouble you could get in if somebody finds out you two are—“ Steve raised his eyebrows, lifted his hands in the beginning formations of a gesture most definitely not embassy-appropriate, but Javier cut him off with the loud thunk of him slamming his desk drawer closed.

“I said it’s nothing, Murphy.” Javi stood, gathering together various papers on his desk into a single stack in his hands, forcing him to keep his head down. “It was a one-time thing.” A pause. “You saw it yourself. She didn’t say a single word to me.”  

“Nah, you’re reading it all wrong.” Steve leaned back into his chair and crossed his hands together behind his head. “I saw how she looked at you. And we both heard what she said. How she said it?” Javi’s eyes flashed up at Steve, almost as if he were considering but decided against it, as he continued. “She’s tryna rile you up, bud. Win the argument.”

“We didn’t—“ But instead of finishing he sentence, Javi gave up with a short sigh as he put out his cigarette into the ash tray on his table before picking up the papers again, tapping them on his desk a couple times to straighten the edges. “Whatever, man. I don’t have time for your love doctor shit.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose, a lazy, amused grin splitting across his face. “Love, huh?”

Javier was half-tempted to throw the papers at his partner’s head as he stepped over to the door with them. “I’m taking these down the hall,” he grumbled as he swung open the door. “And going to ask for a fucking transfer while I’m at it.”

Steve only chuckled in reply as he dropped his feet back to the floor and leaned over his desk again to continue his work.

Javier was never known for being the best liar.

—

Shortly after your meeting, you were staring blankly at the coffee maker in the break room nearest your office, watching the thin stream of near-black miracle liquid pour into the empty glass pot, waiting for the familiar, safe smell of it to fill the small room. You had one hand rested on the countertop, the other pushing back stray strands of your hair before rubbing small circles in your temple with your index and middle fingers.

You felt a bit better on the whole, but the meeting had been…a lot. The situation with Escobar’s empire wasn’t getting any better, and his cunning relentlessness and the chaos it caused trickled down all the way through both this chain of command and through every facet of the Colombian government’s oppositional forces; one lead’s trail ending at nothing and another coming unraveled with more and more innocent people dead in the streets.

Not only that, but there was also the fact that your mind kept going back to the way Javier’s eyes had tried to silently plead with you in the split-second you’d looked at him while in he and Murphy’s office just a couple hours earlier. For what, you weren’t sure. And you didn’t particularly care to know. But that didn’t mean you’d be able to stop thinking about it, about him, any time soon.

“y/n.” As if he could read your thoughts from down the hall, his baritone voice floated through the room from behind you.

“What do you want?” You asked, unmoving.

Javi took a couple steps further into the room, leaning against the wall as he pushed a hand back through his dark hair. He waited for you to eventually turn around, your coffee cup now waiting in your hand to be filled as you stared back at him expectantly.

He sighed before meeting your eyes earnestly. “I wanted to…apologize.” He swallowed quickly, watching you blink at him as he spoke. “I should have minded my own business last night.”

“Yeah. You should’ve,” you replied simply, though you let your expression soften somewhat. “I’m a grown-ass woman, Javier. If I make a stupid decision, the consequences are on me.”

Javi slightly cocked his head at the undertone of admission about your actions the night before. God knows he was just as guilty of the same things, and far worse for that matter, but…

“I just don’t want you getting hurt.” He said, his voice coming out quieter than he’d meant for it to. He looked down to the floor, collecting a thought before he lifted his head again. “I don’t…I don’t make a lot of friends these days.” A slight shrug tugged his shoulders upward, though his dark eyes were filled with intent sincerity as he looked to you. “I’d like to keep the ones that I do have.”

You allowed the stiffness in your shoulders to lessen as you sighed. Dammit, you hated how easy it was to forgive him. It was always like this.

And yet, you could see the sincerity in his face, his lips pressed tightly together and the focus in his brow, and you’d caught the almost nervous curling of his hand that wasn’t jammed into his pocket into a fist as his side when he’d spoken. 

He really did mean it. Of course he did, and you were glad to know someone who truly did care about your safety in a place like this, at a time like this. You just wished you could figure out what else it was that hung in the air between you as he waited for you to answer him with an anxious humming in his chest.

“Fine.” You nodded once before you turned back around to reach for the now-filled coffee pot. Javier’s presence lingered behind you, and you considered your next words with a grimace as you poured the steaming-hot liquid in your cup. “He was shit in bed anyways.”

Javier snorted a laugh, relief flooding him at your forgiveness as he pushed himself off the wall and walked over to stand by you, placing his hand on the counter next to yours as he looked over to you. His hand was close, almost too close to yours, and he’d quickly slid a few inches backward.

“You busy tomorrow night?” he asked. It was an innocent question, truly, nothing beyond a friendly invitation. “It’s been a while since we just…talked.”

You hoped he didn’t notice the slight falter in your grip as you put the coffee pot back in its place and turned to look at him again.

He was right. It had been a while. But the last time you’d “talked,” the night had soon shifted to the both of you becoming a mess of wandering hands and mouths and tangled limbs before you were even able to unlock the door to your apartment.

You could sense his acknowledgement of that reflected in the way he slightly pulled back from where you stood as you leaned back onto the counter and took a sip of your coffee, not wanting to appear overbearing. But you could also see his intention to make up for his intrusion the night before flickering behind his eyes.

You wanted to hate yourself for it, but you only shook your head, a weak smile crossing over your face once you pulled your coffee cup away from your lips.

“Not at all.”

| Part 3 |

[thelonely]

MAJOR ep. 28 spoilers

(find it on ao3 here)

Mama has been to more than her fair share of funerals.

Well, if you can call them all funerals. Her line of work didn’t do kindly by folks looking for a traditional burial. All too often, she’d had to scoop up ashes post-battle and spread them, collect bones and dig holes for them, lose sight of a coworker mid-fight and never catch hide nor hair of them again. There were too many anomalies to be explained, too many questions raised. Seeing those names slowly sink on the “Missing Persons” list and knowing still hurt, after all these years.

And hell, some folks in the past didn’t want to go through the ceremonial bullshit; they just wanted some dirt over their remains and a salute, before sinking off into that eternal sleep. Fair enough.

Mama’s definition of a “funeral” wasn’t always clean enough to entail the hearse, coffin, and grave plot. It was the exception, rather than the norm.

Which is why she’s surprised that Ned Chicane, of all people, wanted—and got—a traditional funeral. Let alone a crowded one.

(Maybe it was for the theatrics of it. Scratch that, it was definitely for the theatrics of it.)

Ned Chicane, once again, brought the town together—they had watched him go down the first time, and they were here to watch him go down for good. They owed him that much.

Duck and Aubrey and Mama and Barclay, Jake and Leo and Kirby and Sheriff Owens, Agent Stern and Hollis and Kevin and Eugene. People who loved him, people who dealt with him, people who hated him. People who disagreed with him, people who were inspired by him, people who thought he was a scam and disgrace. In this little ski town where everyone knows everybody, it does not go unnoticed that two particular people are missing. But, considering the circumstances, no one can blame them.

The residents of Kepler hover by the graveside as a priest says a few words; Ned didn’t strike anyone as a particularly religious man, but the sentiment is nice, regardless.

Duck gets up and chokes out a speech—it’s hard to tell if it’s due to the occasion, or just public speaking nerves. But he gets through it nonetheless, talking about the mysterious man that one day emerged as the owner of the once-dinky Cryptonomica, and how he wasn’t an open man but he was an amicable one. A brave one.

And because Ned had no one else that was willing to speak, the speeches end and the crowd breaks briefly before burial.

The Amnesty Lodge group gathers, talking idly with flowers and programs in their hands. It’s probably the first time that Mama has seen Duck not in the ranger uniform—but of course, he’s still wearing the hat. Barclay has trimmed his beard close, and Jake is in dark hues instead of neon ones.

Aubrey is also not her usual self. That much is obvious to anyone with any degree of familiarity with her.

The normally chatty magician is quiet; she stands eerily still, hands curled in her black dress as she listens to everyone chat. Her weight is subtly shifted to her good leg—she refused to use crutches at the service.

Mama is used to strange situations: to magic and monsters and violence. But nothing ever feels quite as strange, quite as wrong, as a funeral.

“I wish I had some… some, I don’t know, some cryptid keychains I could drop in, instead of these flowers.” Duck raises his bouquet accordingly: pink carnations. “I mean. Twenty-two years, and I never saw a damn flower in his place, not once. Did he even like flowers?”

“If he did, I sure doubt he would’ve told us—or if he did tell us, whether we would’ve believed him,” Mama replies. “Damn near everything that came out of that man’s mouth sounded like a lie. I don’t think dropping flowers will be an egregious sin against him.”

“I thought about maybe bringing some Nerf darts. I guess that wouldn’t go over too well, though, huh—”

Suddenly, Jake nudges Aubrey’s arm. “Hey, look.”

His pointed finger gets the group’s attention; they all turn to look at the item of interest: the grave marker, a couple yards away. They hover for a moment, scouring the letters. Eyebrows lower, foreheads wrinkle. Aubrey averts her eyes.

“Well, this sure solves that mystery, don’t it,” Mama finally says.

The marker reads: Edmund Kelly Chicane.

“I found it on some legal documents around the Cryptonomica,” Kirby pipes in from behind them, noticing their stares. His black suit fits baggy around the legs and tight around the belly, and it feels alien to see him without an RC Cola in hand. “Seemed more official, to put the full name on it.”

Mama nods and Kirby turns back to whatever discussion he was already having. The group is quiet for a beat. Then:

“...Just feels wrong,” Duck mumbles, removing his hat and shifting it from one hand to the other. “Having his full name out here, well, it’s like—like seeing the guy naked. Jesus Christ. Let the man have some privacy, he freakin’ beefed it.”

Mama stares for another moment, then: “I think I’m partial to ‘Ned Fuckin’ Chicane.’”

That earns a small laugh from the group—from everyone except for Aubrey. Mama looks at her with barely concealed concern, but Aubrey doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, but really: this all feels wrong. The flowers, the name—hachi machi,” Duck says again with a note of disgust. “This ain’t Ned’s style.”

“I’m not exactly sure what else we’re supposed to do?” Barclay says. “He’d at least like the high turnout, if that’s any comfort.”

But Duck is barely listening. He pivots, looking at the scene around them: the townsfolk, the marker, the rows of chairs, the grave itself, the program in his hands—

And then he gets an idea.

He slides a pen out of his front pocket, flips the program over, and jots something down in loose letters. Clicks the pen closed and stares at his handiwork for a moment. Rips off that last page.

Aubrey, standing to his right, merely looks up at him with the question in her eyes. Duck, catching her stare, turns the paper towards her.

It reads: Fucking.

The park ranger shrugs. “This felt like something he’d appreciate more than just some stinkin’ flowers.”

And with that, he strides towards the grave, gives one final look at the coffin within, and drops the piece of paper. He glances up at their group. He mouths the name: Ned Fucking Chicane. And then he walks back.

This action does not go unnoticed. As Duck makes his way back to their group, other attendees peer into the grave—some laugh, some look appalled, some smile nostalgically.

“Duck,” Barclay says, his voice verging on giddy. “Where did you come up with that?”

The park ranger doesn’t seem to share the same excitement for the act. As he gets closer, he slaps a hand to his face, head bowed.

“What did I just fuckin’ do,” he moans under his breath. “I go to a man’s damn funeral and drop curse words on his grave? Have I gone bonkers? Why didn’t any of you stop me?”

“Duck—” Mama interjects.

“Fuckin’ hell, guys, I might as well have just shouted a big ol’ cuss in the middle of his final rites—”

“Duck, stop. No, look,” Mama says, planting a firm hand on his shoulder and giving him a small shake. “Look.”

Pens have emerged from pockets and purses, and the residents of Kepler are scribbling on their own programs. They write, and then they line up.

Everyone contributes something.

Boss, Bastard, Conspiracy. Danger, Superstar, Entrepreneur. Black Diamond, Flamboyant, Brave. Fuckin’, Effin’, Fucking.

The coffin is almost entirely concealed by paper. Middle name after middle name tumbles down into the hole, and it takes a good twenty minutes for the stream to taper out.

Aubrey watches her friends and neighbors drop their pieces in. And yet, she can’t bring herself to join. She just doesn’t know what to write.

(After everything… what could she write?)

She still hasn’t written anything by the time that they’re told to gather around for the end of the ceremony. Feels a swell of panic when the first shovel breaks the ground and tosses earth onto the pile.

Dirt cascades into the plot and the town watches silently as his titles are buried—until the only name that remains is the one on the gravemarker.

And then the service is over. People hover by the filled plot, saying final goodbyes to each other, exchanging hugs and words. It’s a flurry of movement for all but Aubrey.

Instead, Aubrey thinks.

She thinks as she says goodbye to the other attendees, telling her that they’ll see her soon. Barclay says he’ll have some soup at home. Duck says he’ll pop into the Lodge sometime tonight.

She thinks as the bulk of the town shuffles away, quiet conversation bubbling between them:

Remember when Ned crashed that stupid drone into a tree and the national parks office got flooded with calls of Mothman sightings for three whole days? Remember when he had the live studio audience of kids for Saturday Night Dead, and how he scared them senseless by dressing up in a yeti costume and jumping them? Remember when he went on Google Reviews and made the Cryptonomica the most upvoted place in Kepler—. And then they’re too far away to hear.

She’s almost alone: just her, Mama, and a heavy silence remain. And finally, Aubrey writes something down.

She walks on numb legs to the grave, coming to a slow halt beside it. With a slight wince, she bends over and slots her paper into the freshly turned dirt. She rises and gives it one final glance.

Mama calls from a few yards away, eyes shining with sympathy; Aubrey nods and rejoins her.

“You ready?” Mama asks, her big hand spanning Aubrey’s entire back.

“Yeah. I… I’m ready.”

They slowly move away, towards the trees. Neither of them look back.

A lone piece of paper flutters in a soft wind, unread.

The sun sinks and the stars twinkle into existence overhead, clear and cold. They shine brilliantly, beautifully over the headstone, and while the man beneath them is gone, this final middle name is not.

Written in careful, cursive letters:

Friend.

[deepdaleducks]

Spark (Slow Burn 4/Fire Series) - Dele

make sure you’ve read Slow Burn, Flicker and Embers before you read this (or don’t i don’t think it matters here)

-Three years ago-

The room was bustling with people. Everyone dressed in long dress and black suit and ties. Knifes and forks clinking against fine china as everyone dines on their food, light conversation coming from every corner of the room. Your colleagues surround you, everyone abiding by your bosses “no work talk” rule. Stories of childhoods and friends are passed around the table, laughter echoing over the noise of the room. When the meal is finished, your boss thanks everyone for coming to the event, rattling off about how important it is for the company to show its charitable side, not only at functions such as this, but all year round. Everyone lifts their glasses in a toast, and you drain what’s left of your wine. Your phone vibrates in your clutch and you reach to check the text; a reply to the mirror selfie of your outfit you’d sent earlier.

              Tom: Looking good, babe! Have a good night x

You type back a quick thank you, wishing him a good weekend. Your best friend from work leans over, spying on your phone.

“Is that Tom, hmm?” She asks as you slip your phone back into your purse. “How’s that going?”

“It’s going okay yeah, nothing too serious yet, but he’s nice,” You reply, mind drifting onto thoughts of the guy you’d been seeing. A month of dating and things had been going well. The two of you had met through a mutual friend and had hit it off really well. You worked in similar industries and had similar interests. Your only disagreements being over the fact that he was an Arsenal fan, and although you didn’t follow football much anymore, your dad had raised you to hate Arsenal. You gossip with your colleague about your love lives, discussing your best and worst dates, every comparison coming back to Tom.

Once the plates had been cleared, people began to move around the room, squeezing in between tables and chairs. The people on your table, mainly your colleagues and their guests began to disperse around the room to greet old friends and network with other attendees. Bidding a quick goodbye, talk to you later to the few remaining people at your table, you stand at head towards the bar in search of a new drink. Your heels now aching under your feet, you’re thankful when you arrive at the bar and have a support to lean on to alleviate some of the pressure from the balls of your feet. The space is cramped, a large group of guys congregating next to you loudly discussing their training sessions this week and how their next game should go. Footballers. There were always footballers at events like these; their team sponsoring the event to show they were “giving back to the community”.

You haven’t even had a chance to order when it happens. In a split second, he’s turning around, two pints of beer in his hands, and bumping into you. Beer flowing out of the glasses and down your dress. Black fabric now covered in liquid, you step back in shock.

“Jesus Christ watch where you’re going,” You yell, grabbing at the cloth that’s immediately being held out in front of you. You begin dabbing at your dress, attempting to soak up some of the moisture, a whole spiel of apologies coming from the figure stood opposite you.

“Shit. Fuck. I am so sorry.” He says, his tone panicked. His hands move about in any attempt to help, but you bat him away. All chances of solving the mess already out of the window, you throw the cloth back on the bar, shaking your head in annoyance. “Is there anything I can do to fix this?” He asks, causing you to look up at him, taking in his perfectly clean suit and tie, eyes looking at you apologetically.

“It’s, ah. It’s fine.” You breathe, “I’m going to go try wash this out in the bathroom.” You say, turning away from the bar and stalking down the corridor, frustration and annoyance flowing through your veins. You hear footsteps following you, dress shoes on wooden tiles. A series of hold on, wait a minutes echoing behind you. Rather than turn back, you push through the door to ladies’ room and lean against the sinks, taking a breath to calm yourself. Dabbing at your dress with a wet cloth, you consider your options. The idea of spending the rest of the night in a beer coated dress seems unpleasant, so you settle for calling it an early night and heading home on the tube, the three glasses of wine you’d consumed making your brain feel a little hazy, far too hazy too drive. Having come straight from work, you had your clothes from earlier in the day in your car parked across the street, so you make a mental note to run across and change back into them before heading for a train home. Pushing back through the door of the bathroom, you almost run into a familiar figure once more.

“Did you sort it?” He asks, stopping you in your tracks on your journey back to your car. You shake your head, noticing his expression sadden.

“No, it’s pretty unsalvageable…” You trail off, “I’m just gonna head back to my car and then go home.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ruined your night. Where’s your car?”

“In the multi-story across the street. Not all of us can afford the valet service.” You joke, trying to crack a smile.

“Excuse me?” He questions, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re a footballer, right? Those guys you were with at the bar, you were all discussing your training and the game next week.” You say, happy to have stumped him a little.

“Oh right, yeah… At least let me walk you back to your car, I can’t have you going in a multi-story car park alone at this time of night,” He pleads, eyes showing a desperation to make this up to you. You smile lightly in agreement, too tired to argue. The two of you walk together side by side, not bothering to make conversation. When you exit the building, the air is a lot colder than it was earlier causing you to shiver slightly and combined with the alcohol in your body, the motion makes you stumble a little; your heels giving way under your feet.

“You sure you’re safe to drive like that?” He asks teasing, an arm reaching out to help steady you and dropping immediately once you’ve regained your balance.

“I’m not. I’m getting the tube.” He looks confused at your response, so you continue not allowing him to ask any more questions. “I have clothes in my car, so I’m going to change and then I’m going to get the tube home.” He just nods, taking in your rambling. You reach your car and grab your clothes out of the boot – jeans and a white t-shirt from a dress down Friday, with an old pair of converse that you always keep in your car. He stands there quietly, only attempting to protest when head into the sketchy bathroom of the parking garage to change. And he’s still there when you return, standing by your car, waiting. Waiting whilst your put the dress out on the backseat, ready to be taken to the dry cleaners in the morning. Waiting whilst you grab your purse and lock up your car. And then he follows you when you head towards the exit in search of the tube, silent all the while.  

“Okay so where’s the tube station?” He asks as you descend into the street.

“It’s just down the road,” You say factually, turning to look at him quickly. “You don’t have to come with me, I can do it alone.”

“Look, it’s the least I could do, given the hell I caused.” He jokes slightly in attempt to get you to warm up to him. Once again, rather than protest or agree, you just smile and nod ever so slightly.

The city is still alive, neon lights hanging from the buildings and traffic flying past in a constant stream. Together, you push your way through the small crowds on the street towards the tube station, no attempts to make conversation of the bustle of the crowds.

“Dele.” He yells over the noise of a bus passing by.

“What?” You question, turning to look at him.

“My name. Dele. That’s my name.”

“Oh,” is all you say, before introducing yourself in return, swivelling on your feet to continue your journey.

“Do you wanna maybe go for a drink?” He proposes, walking slightly faster to catch up with you. You hesitate in your response, mind questioning if this was a sensible decision. He speaks again before you can think any further, “It’s not even that late, and I kinda turned your night to shit, so I kinda owe you.” He smiles. “Just one drink, it’s on me.” Before your mind can even begin to object, you’re nodding slowly in confirmation, following him into a pub off the street.

He buys as promised, a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. It’s awkward and silent at first until he asks about your job and why you were attending the gala. A conversation begins to form naturally, him sharing what he knows of your industry, and you discussing your brief knowledge of football. He tells you about his childhood and how he got into playing, how much of a dream it is to play for Spurs.

“You’re a spurs player?” You ask, and he nods and grins like a child in response. “My dad would have loved you…”

“He’s a fan?” He says proudly.

“He was, yeah.” His eyes deepen slightly at your use of the past tense, but you continue anyway. “My mum was born in Manchester, so she’s United for life. I was kinda raised on a dual allegiance though. But I haven’t really followed the football in a while…”

“Was?” He asks, ignoring the latter half of your sentence. His word stops your heart for a minute, the panic of this conversation getting way too serious way too quickly.

“He, um, he passed away a few years ago…” You trail off, “it’s why I don’t really follow football anymore. It was always something we did together, yknow.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this anymore, if you don’t want.” He mutters, apologetically and you smile at him weakly in response. The people at the pool table next to you finish their game so you eye up the free table. Desperate to get your mind on to something other than its current thought track, you suggest playing a game, causing him to give you a competitive smirk.

The game goes by quickly, him breaking and instantly potting a ball, gaining himself a healthy lead. You catch up easily and it comes down to both of you having a single ball left on the table. You line up your shot, taking a breath to steady your hand. Years of practice in your local pub back home paying off when you hit the white at the perfect angle and power to pot your ball and position it perfectly for your final shot. Aligning your queue ready to hit the black, you smirk at him in victory and he looks at you in disbelief. The ball rolls easily into the hole, white sitting just on the edge of the pocket, and you grin at him in triumph.

“I can’t believe you made a comeback like that.” He says in shock, half joking, half amazed.

“I worked in a really small country pub for a few years and we hardly had any customers, so I got to spent most my time playing pool,” You reply, matter-of-factly. “And I’m like really competitive, so I usually win,”

“Being competitive doesn’t mean you just instantly win. It means that you just brag when you do or get annoyed when you don’t.” He states.

“No, I’m serious. I win at like everything, I just do.”

“Care to prove it?” His lips smirk at you as he asks, pointing towards the all-night arcade across the street. Electricity runs through the air between you as you stand on opposite sides of the table. It’s on, is all you say in response, finishing your drink quickly and following him across the street.

You beat him at air hockey and a shoot ‘em up game, but he wins on the basketball machine and table football, a ‘it’s what I do for a living, babe, I was bound to win’ thrown in when he does so. Upon noticing the “mini golf this way sign” you grab his hand in excitement, dragging him in the direction of the arrows, insisting that you were about to thrash him. You wind your way through the arcade machines, grinning like a child. You face only falling when you notice the lack of lighting in the room and a no entry barrier across the door way.

“I can’t believe it’s closed” You say in annoyance. His thumb rubs your hand in comfort and you suddenly become aware that your fingers were still laced together.

“Well maybe I’ll just have to take you another time?” He poses, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah maybe, but who says there will be another time?” You mirror his actions.

“Promise there will be.” Is all he responds before he pulls you closer and dips his head slowly. He breath ghosts your lips before they connect slightly. Your brain instantly sober as you push away, uttering a no, I can’t do this. His hand drops yours, leaving your palm cold and empty.

“What? You got a boyfriend or something?” He says, no bitterness in his voice, only a hint of surprise.

“No boyfriend.” You reply, causing him to look at you confusingly. “I’m sort of seeing someone. It’s still new and there’s no real labels on it yet. But I don’t do the two people at once thing and I don’t wanna be that girl.” You spiel out quickly, hardly pausing to take a breath.

“Oh,” He responds, his eyes disappointed and low.

“But we can be friends, though? I mean you did just promise to take me mini golfing, and you’re one for one on keeping your promises, so you wouldn’t wanna ruin that now, would you?” You say lightly, attempting to regain the happy atmosphere you had established earlier.

He takes your number, insisting that he is a man of his word, also calling you a taxi to take you home, rather than allowing you to take the tube alone. You walk out into the street together, his suit jacket now slung around your shoulders to protect you from the cold night air. He opens the door to the taxi, bidding you a final farewell with a “see you at mini golf.”

  Instead, he invites you to the cinema the next Wednesday and brunch the following Sunday. You never even make it to mini golf, a date with your boyfriend getting in the way of the plans you had originally made. He takes the cancellation lightly, saying he’s proud of you for “locking down a man with such a good jaw” but you know it’s a joke, based on something he’d previously overheard your friend saying on the phone. Despite the failed plans and your new relationship, your friendship manages to grow, brunch on Sunday mornings becoming a tradition, Wednesday night movies after work at his house an integral part of your weekly schedule. He reignites your love for football, getting you tickets to his games and even offering to provide one for Tom, which he declines due to his loyalty to Arsenal. You give him advice on his love life, offering to set him up on dates with girls from your work, and you’re happy for him when he says he’s met someone. And you’re happy for him when he calls you at 9:59 on a Sunday morning, cancelling your 10am brunch date because he’s tied up. And even though you eat alone, you’re happy for him.

  They’re six weeks in when you finally meet her, in the stands at one of his games, Spurs shirt on your back, Gucci on hers. It’s Eric’s girlfriend who introduces you, the two of them having already met on a double date. It’s awkward and tense and you feel oddly second class. Her lips spend most their time pursed together, hands holding her phone and fingers scrolling through Instagram, your hands in the air, yelling about an incorrectly called foul. He scores a second goal in the 82nd minute, securing spurs the 4-0 win, yourself and Eric’s girlfriend jumping of your seats in celebration. Afterwards, he greets you in the tunnel, running into your arms and spinning your round like a little child, a rambling a chorus of “did you my goals? How insane was that second one though?”

“Yeah, I’m really glad I taught you how to cartwheel,” You reply, referencing his celebration. You congratulate him like always, and it feels normal until her eyes fall on yours from down the corridor, a sour look on her face. Muttering a quiet “You should go say hello to your girlfriend”, you move onto Eric, who’s wrapped up in his girlfriend’s arms.

  The months go by and your relationships and friendships all grow. Double dates on weekends, attending fancy dinner parties together. Everything going wonderfully. And it’s not until one and a half years into your relationship that you’re coming home early for a week-long business trip and heading straight to your boyfriend’s house in search of comfort. Except what you find isn’t comfort, it’s an unfamiliar car parked in his drive way and your spare key opening his door to a pair of women’s heels in the hallway. It’s two plates abandoned on the table and a “shit that might be my girlfriend” from upstairs.

You stumble out of the door, fingers fumbling for your phone to find the only contact you want right now, dialling immediately. When he picks up you barely let out a breath, words coming out as stream of “TherewassomeoneelsethereIthinkhe’scheatingthereweretwoplatesandapairofheelsand-” before he stops you, asking you to slow down and explain what was going on. He tells you to get your car off the drive and go to the car park down the road, that he’ll meet you there as soon as he can. Behind the wheel your hands shake, tears already falling down your face, but you try you best to compose yourself, slowing lifting your foot off the clutch and reversing out into the street. Pulling into the car park you turn on the radio loudly in an attempt to drown out your thoughts and its not long before a black car is pulling up and he’s bundling out of it. He opens the driver’s side door and pulls you from your seat, immediately folding you into his arms, a series of hushes whispered into your ear.

He drives you back to his place, tears in your eyes making all the street lights a blur. When you get inside, he leads you into the kitchen before running upstairs to get you a pair of sweats to change into. The way he moves around you signifies how much you’ve learned about each other in the many months of your friendship. Giving you your favourite style of sweats and a pair of long socks to keep your feet warm, making a cup of tea just the way you like it, turning on the classical music your mother raised you on to help calm you down. And he knows that you don’t want to talk about it just yet, so he tells you about training and Eric, about the new coaches at the club, anything to get your mind to run onto a different thought track. His heart aches at the sight of your red eyes and teared stained cheeks.

It’s working – his attempt at distracting you - one of his stories almost causing you to crack a smile. But then you spy the dinner table over his shoulder, two plates full of food now gone cold, two glasses of wine, one untouched, one half empty. The scene confuses you. Why would he have two plates of food set out if he wasn’t doing anything? Surely, he hadn’t been doing anything if he was able to come pick you up? Unless –

“Was she here?” You ask before your brain can even tell you to stop. “Is she still here? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your evening.” You ramble, rushing out of your seat at the breakfast bar, scurrying to grab your things in preparation to leave.

“No, it’s okay. I told her I had to cancel.” He pauses as you look at him inquisitively. “She was here, yes. But you called and I told her we’d have to take a rain check. So she left.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say in disbelief. In return he protests that he did have to do that. That you’re his best friend, and the he cares about you. That he wasn’t going to leave you crying in a car park. That he loves you.

And the last thing he says sends your heart into overdrive. You know he doesn’t mean it like that. But hearing him say it causes you to think of a life where things had been different. A life where you had kissed him that first night you met. A life that you stopped from happening because of Tom. Tom the boyfriend you thought you loved, Tom the boyfriend you heard in bed with someone else, Tom the boyfriend who had shattered your heart.

But even after you rejected him, Dele is still here in front of you, your best friend. Taking care of you and picking up your broken pieces to help you put yourself back together. Making cream crackers with butter just in case you manage to eat, putting on your favourite tv show, knowing you.

He carries you up to bed after you fall asleep on the couch, careful not to wake you as he places you in the spare bed, a kiss on your forehead as he bids you goodnight.

When you wake in the morning, he’s left a note on the kitchen counter.

I’ve called your work to say you’re too sick to go in. There’s food in the fridge if you manage to eat anything. You’re welcome to stay here all day – movie marathon later? I hope you’re okay, love. Dele x

His hand writing a scribbled mess, you smile at the note. You make breakfast from the items in his fridge, moving around his house easily and comfortably. The day passes by effortlessly, watching tv in his living room and reading in the sun room, taking up any task possible to distract you from the thought of your inevitable break up. The idea of staying here all day comforts you, knowing that his presence later will put you at ease. And you’re passing through the hallway aimlessly when you see it and it stops you for a minute. Her photo on the sideboard. A reminder that he has a girlfriend, and as much as you wanted to spend all your time clinging to him for comfort, his time was not yours to take. So you force yourself to grab your belongings and drive home, leaving him a simple reply to his note, your phone still off in your bag, untouched from last night.

Going home, gonna go talk to him and say my piece while I know what I want to say. Thanks for everything Dele, will call you this weekend x

  “So did Ruby tell you we ran into each other in the mall this week?”

“Oh yeah, um, she kinda mentioned she’d seen you,” he says from across the table, your regular brunch orders in front of you in your regular restaurant. Avoiding your eye contact, he concentrates on cutting up his avocado on toast.

“What are you not telling me?” you ask, knowing his tells.

“Nothing. Nothing. She said she saw you and that you still looked like crap from your break up.” His eyes meet yours to see you in shock. “Sorry.” Pause. “And then you know we got on to talking about it…”

“And?” you pry further.

“And then, I don’t know. We sort of got in an argument about it. I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want to make you feel bad.” He confesses, shifting his eyes again to avoid looking at you.

“Why would you be arguing about me?” You ask, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“She thinks we’re spending too much time together. Maybe she’s jealous, I don’t know. But I explained to her that I’m just helping you out, because you know, you were cheated on and you’re going through a break up. You need people, and I’m your person.” He stops for a second. “I told her she has nothing to worry about. It’s not like you’re in love with me or anything…” He trails off without a light chuckle.

“Yeah. Right. Exactly. But if she has a problem with it, we don’t have to spend as much time together,” your tone is low and sadden. “I like spending time with you and I’m really thankful for all you’ve done lately, but I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship. I don’t want to do anything that could make you sad.”

  And so you don’t see him for a few weeks, ignoring his calls and replying to his texts in short, blunt sentences. Forcing yourself to spend all your time with your friends, cocktails after work and shopping trips on Sundays. You even miss Sunday brunch three weeks in a row, throwing out a casual excuse in apology, causing your heart to ache at the thought of purposefully pushing him away. From what you see on Instagram, it appears that his relationship is doing better than ever, and you’re happy for him. The distances seems to be good for the both of you, your heart now slowly feeling from your break up, work going better than ever.  That is until he turns up on your door step at 3am one night, eyes red from crying. You let him in without questioning it, knowing something seriously up for him to come here like this, unannounced. He walks himself into the kitchen, head hanging low.

“We got in another fight. About you. Which is so fucking dumb because you’ve been ignoring me for weeks.” He rants, quickly. You try to interject but he continues. “And I come home in a bad mood and she’s also in a pissy mood and she goes ‘well why don’t you go talk to your wife about it’” He mimics in a high-pitched voice.

“Your wife?” You question, asking him to confirm what you were assuming.

“You. She means you.” He pauses to look at you, stopping his head from whirling round the kitchen as he paces. “And I so I said that I haven’t even seen you in ages, she asks why I’m so upset about it so then yet again, we end up having the same stupid fight that we always end up having.”

You take in his words slowly. Brain wracked with thoughts of why was he here? How did the fighting lead him to your door step? If you were in his position, the first place you’d drive after having an argument over a third party would not be directly to that third party’s house.

“Why are you- Why are you here?” You mumble, forcing yourself to get the words out. Forcing yourself to confront what was happening. Forcing yourself to stop everything that could happen.

“I just.” He pauses to breathe, steadying himself. “I just need to know so I can go home and be with her and not having all these thoughts that she keeps putting in my mind.”

“Need to know what?”

“I just need you to look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not in love with me.” Eyes pleading, he makes no attempt to move closer to you. His words form a canyon between the two of you across the kitchen.

“I’m not.” You reply, quietly, hand brushing your hair away from your face so your eyes can look into his fully. “I’m not in love with you.” You lie.

Author’s Note - okay so I switched it up a little and this is basically a prequel showing some snippets from the night they met and as their relationship develops. Idk if you guys are gonna like this so let me know if you did. We’ll be back to our regular scheduled programming very soon, hoping to get SB5 to you within the weekend if I dont put off uni work too much. I didn’t proof read so if you notice and errors/inconsistencies please let me know im lazy and go blind to my own mistakes LOVE YOU ALL THANKS FOR READING X

[thedesperatehousehusband]

The Super Bowel

So I had committed to blogging at least once a month and here it is February 8th and this is my first post of year. But, y’all, 2021 has been like a shot out of a cannon. Motherfuckers, January was SOMETHING.ELSE. But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m going to talk about the big deal of February.

THE SUPER BOWL. Or in this instance the Super Bowel (Movement).

The game was a turd. There’s nothing left to say about it. Tom Brady is such a douche nozzle. I cannot deal with him and his mouth kissing monkey business. I was so hoping Patrick Mahomes could pull it off. Because I love Patrick Mahomes. As well as Travis Kelce. He is delish.

Let’s talk pre-game musical stuff. H.E.R did a good job. Subdued until she tore it up on her guitar. I really like her (aka H.E.R.) Now I don’t want to call anyone’s baby ugly but that national anthem was not good. Eric Church and Jasmine Sullivan really lost their way. They lost the melody pretty early on and never got it back. And, let’s be real, it’s a really recognizable melody.

Shifting gears to the halftime show, oof. I give credit to the Weeknd for singing live. We can say that much. He sang live. Unfortunately he did not sing live well or good or even mediocre. Ooooof. I really like the Weeknd and think his songs are great but he is very clearly incredibly enhanced and autotuned. I said very quickly that JLo had nothing to worry about if she was concerned. Her show remains the best in years. And I will NEVER, EVER understand the controversy surrounding that show. People are lunatics.

OK. Let’s talk advertisements. One caveat. We quit watching the game in the 4th quarter because it was so awful so we missed some commercials. My gut tells me that there weren’t amazing spots at the 2:00 minute warning but if I omit your favorite that’s why. Here we go:

·       Old, the new M. Night Shyamalan movie. This looks quite interesting. And it will be available ONLY IN THEATERS so mask up, fuckers.

·       M&Ms. There was Dan Levy, there was mention of “Karen”, there was mansplaining. It was clever and I appreciated it for the cleverness. Who doesn’t like M&Ms?

·       Paramount+ Streaming. Snooki, Christine Baranski, Bryce DeChambeau, some level of animated programming, that judge from All Rise, Cedric the Entertainer, Star Trek: Discovery. Jesus. H. Christ. They crammed it all in there and then some. They promoted this shit FIVE times. They’re going to make this service happen or someone will be killed.

·       The Falcon & the Winter Soldier on Disney+. I’m here for it. I’m into it. Bring it on.

·       Doordash. Combing Sesame Street and Daveed Diggs is a wonderful idea. In my opinion, this was the best spot of the Super Bowl. An appropriate nod to the situation that most restaurants are facing with relevant tie ins to their actual business.

·       The Equalizer. Here comes the Queen. This got four promos. If this fails, someone will lose their job at CBS.

·       Doritos 3D. With Matthew McConaughey in 2D. It was pretty fun for about 10 seconds but it lasted much longer than that. Then it got weird. #flatmatthew. C’mon, part of looking at Matthew is seeing him in 3D.

·       GM Engines? I don’t know what it was truly for? Carbon neutral cars? Engines? That’s the sad thing. The good thing it was really funny. Will Ferrell. You just can’t go wrong. Then you throw in Kenan Thompson and Awkwafina and you basically have gold. But I still don’t know what the hell the spot was for.

·       Pringles and astronauts. I didn’t get it.

·       Bud Light. Legends and then also Post Malone. Silly.

·       Chipotle. For Real. So stupid and heavy handed. No one needs that kind of message from fast casual burritos.

·       Clarice. CBS wants this to happen but not as much as they want The Equalizer to happen. Who is the actress impersonating Jodie Foster?

·       Mountain Dew with John Cena. I don’t know what the flavor was. I don’t what the spot was about. I don’t care. Mountain Dew is diabetes in a bottle.

·       Which plays nicely into Dexcom. Now that’s how you use a celebrity. Nick Jonas is a Type 1 diabetic. He’s credible. He’s appropriately aspirational. Smart.

·       Indeed. This had something to do with jobs. Getting a job? Job postings? I don’t know. It was too much and I hated it.

·       State Farm. Oooh. This was funny. “Stand ins don’t talk”. That’s what Jake said to Drake. Paul Rudd as Patrick Mahomes? Yes, please. More of this. I love that Drake was even willing to do this. I suppose he got a million bucks. That’ll do it.

·       Bud Light Seltzer Lemonade. Lemon of the year. Making lemons with lemonade. Or lemonade seltzer. How can there be that many hard seltzers?

·       Scot’s Lawn Care. It was bad.

·       Skechers with Tony Romo. Enough said. Tony Romo, while looking real good, is just kind of grating.

·       WeatherTech. My goodness. This was intense. It was a Benetton ad for all-weather car mats. We get it. Diversity.

·       Rocket Mortgage. This was very close to my favorite. Both executions were very funny. You don’t want to be “pretty sure” about your mortgage. Tracy Morgan was the right person for this. It wasn’t smarmy at all. It could have been. It was just the right tone and the other actors were very funny.

·       Oatly. Wow, no cow. Wow, hot mess.

·       Toyota with Jessica Long. Now THAT’S how you do an Olympic spot. Love, love, love.

·       eTrade. You are NOT the best around despite the throwback soundtrack. Terrible.

·       Hellmann’s with Amy Schumer. This was very clever. Use up the stuff in your fridge by sprucing it up with mayo.

·       TurboTax. So awful.

·       Mercari. What is this? I still don’t know and I even Googled it. I’m unclear. I think it’s an online market of some kind. But for what? Angel dust? Pastries? Tires? It could be anything.

·       Tide. It’s dirtier than it looks but also with Jason Alexander. That tween doesn’t know who Jason Alexander is, does he? I dunno. It was fine.

·       Dr. Squatch. What the fuck is this brand or product?

·       Vroom.com. Why?

·       Jimmy John’s. Does Jimmy John’s have Super Bowl money and enough to pay for Brad Garrett? I guess they think they do.

·       T Mobile with Blake Shelton, Gwen Stefani and Adam Levine. This was likely a little meta and you have to understand the history to think it’s funny but I enjoyed it. There was also a LOT of mention of 5G or similar during this particular Super Bowl.

·       Because the next spot was AT&T Fiber with Frodo and a bunch of LOTR superfans. Meh.

·       Fiverr. What in the ever loving fuck?

·       Coming 2 America. Yaaaas. I’m here for this movie.

·       Cheeto’s with Shaggy, Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher. We get it. Cheeto’s make your fingers orange. I’m over it.

·       Squarespace. Working 5 to 9. I don’t get it. Were you working 9 to 5 and then a side hustle from 5 to 9. Areyou working 5:00 AM to 9:0 PM?

·       Cadillac Lyriq. I wanted to like this but it just got so stupid.

·       Anheuser-Busch. This was overwrought.

·       Jeep. But THIS was really overwrought. I’m in the minority on this one. I think lots of people were very moved by this. I thought it was too much and, dammit, if I’m going to watch Bruce for 60 seconds, he had best to sing.

·       Michelob Ultra Organic Seltzer. I can’t with all these fucking seltzers.

·       Klarna. What in the ever loving fuck is this product or service? I still don’t know.

·       Bass Pro Shop/Cabela’s. Calm down.

·       Robinhood. What is this company? What do they sell? Terrible.

·       Alexa as Michael B. Jordan. The joke ran out of steam. This would be better as a :30 as opposed to a :60.

·       Guaranteed Rate Mortgage. Believe you will or some shit? Whatever.

Hey, at least there was a Super Bowl. That’s the win. May Tom Brady get quinoa stuck in his colon and be unable to poop it out next year. That’s my fervent hope.

[led123123]

wow.. my computer finally went to sleep.. for once.. I just had such a big sleep.. damn.. now I’m not gonna go to sleep late.. I had terrible nightmare god.. 

I had a nightmare.. that.. someone stabbed my throat with pencil..

jesus christ..

https://youtu.be/z8VpsOIIer4

https://images.app.goo.gl/X9XY4zTwLSC2bCub8

“СТРЕЙ ОСОЗНАЛ, ЧТО ЕМУ УЖЕ ПОРА НА ПЕНСИЮI “

https://youtu.be/VrjgaYv8UCQ

https://www.reddit.com/r/apexlegends/comments/f1cvo7/data_on_sniper_bullet_velocities/

wait.. so.. sentinel.. is like.. it really is a lot faster than longbor??

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=ipad+dumpster&page&utm_source=opensearch

https://images.app.goo.gl/Ubg45vDDmnk2H5c19

https://www.youtube.com/c/FortuneFinders/videos

I think it was maybe this channel..

I got.. a spot on my lip.. god.. this is so bad.. to have a spot inside mouth.. god..

it’s so annoying I wanted to bite it off.. 

because it’s so close to my front teeth.. that I though about biting it off.. 

it’s so painful.. to get a spot on lip inside mouth.. near front teeth.. god.. 

https://youtu.be/U8-NzkcO75Q?t=1450

am hitting np with blademail and million armor..

https://youtu.be/U8-NzkcO75Q?t=1672

https://youtu.be/DMqMHvEYSL4?t=12

https://youtu.be/QxHD0ExCkBo?t=256

https://open.spotify.com/track/6Lr8xVnILGgybhgSLWlT5S?si=YQLA5ck7QmSiXz_tG1g8XQ

https://youtu.be/OxY7zUkQlfs?t=44

https://youtu.be/OxY7zUkQlfs?t=67

https://youtu.be/OxY7zUkQlfs?t=74

https://youtu.be/OxY7zUkQlfs?t=82

https://youtu.be/OxY7zUkQlfs?t=172

https://youtu.be/Tqv8mwvvx4k

https://youtu.be/Tqv8mwvvx4k?t=46

rice was so good to eat today. that’s another successful food prediction. and it was really good to eat. because I was eating biscuits yesterday.. and they are so dry.. so.. I was feeling bad.. my stomach was like feeling.. like.. kinda.. it didn’t feel that good next morning.. I mean.. I wasn’t doing super bad.. but I had to eat this rice and this rice was really good. rice has lot of water

https://youtu.be/1s64AR_-8SY?t=17

https://youtu.be/1s64AR_-8SY?t=45

xD xD

https://youtu.be/1s64AR_-8SY?t=34

“I love this one” 

https://youtu.be/1s64AR_-8SY?t=125

rice was really good to eat after these dry biscuits.

https://youtu.be/IwuqOqgUUjE?t=20

pickup art list??

https://youtu.be/Tqv8mwvvx4k?t=280

https://youtu.be/IwuqOqgUUjE?t=92

https://youtu.be/Tqv8mwvvx4k?t=341

I didn’t feel amazing today morning after eating these biscuits yesterday.. because they were dry and.. they were opened.. and.. I mean.. mostly because they were.. dry.. they were opened for a very long time.. sitting in cupboard opened..

https://youtu.be/IwuqOqgUUjE?t=224

wow she makes me think of yui itsuki

https://youtu.be/IwuqOqgUUjE?t=521

itai.. mean.. there was second word.. meaning.. “wait”.. and.. itai.. I’m confusing “wait” and “hurt” forgetting.. the second word.. itai.. and.. second word was..

https://youtu.be/GEGJi1b4HAE

what the fuck.. I finally found it

https://youtu.be/GEGJi1b4HAE?t=364

just replace the zipper.. so simple. rip this one and put the other one

it’s so easy. and it would have maybe.. you can put a different color zipper. like blue

https://youtu.be/GEGJi1b4HAE?t=409

xD

https://youtu.be/amKY24_Sye8?t=178

https://youtu.be/AVQljhHVcGY?t=22

https://youtu.be/AVQljhHVcGY?t=389

https://youtu.be/1Dzj7CvYhFg

lol.. ex wife.. again

they’re reusing the joke for zylbrad content

https://youtu.be/YHSk1OyVSKw?t=176

damn.. this furniture.. all computer science people have to have.. this.. instagram aesthetic 

https://youtu.be/YHSk1OyVSKw?t=198

https://youtu.be/YHSk1OyVSKw?t=333

her teeth aren’t transparent at all..

like.. normally you see teeth like this

https://images.app.goo.gl/vVhxBwB4NJj8GPfH7

https://images.app.goo.gl/cMsZvaRJa6jYWtzg6

https://images.app.goo.gl/YWGbV6aJ7sfwhiWi6

https://images.app.goo.gl/nqkMGkCZQDAM6YHf9

and her teeth don’t look transparent at all

do you think that she could have.. these.. I mean. veneers??

she.. is.. she was.. the.. like.. model or something like that

my mother doesn’t even let me laugh at all.. when she’s home..

imagine how stupid is this.. 

https://youtu.be/1s64AR_-8SY?t=526

spray and pray. xD

she’s.. kinda.. young to have veneers.. so.. like.. I don’t know

https://youtu.be/w4fVahI_dDk?t=106

her focus is a little not focused.. and.. 1080p isn’t processed yet..

she’s kinda young to have veneers.. but.. models.. do get.. stuff like that I guess maybe??

https://youtu.be/Bw7l_sIw16o

no way really?? her other videos are in 720p too..

https://youtu.be/Bw7l_sIw16o?t=271

I heard this song already

https://youtu.be/Bw7l_sIw16o?t=434

damn.. her videos are really out of focus

https://youtu.be/7jmEZuW7xR0?t=72

why are they so blurry on right side.. did she forget to wipe the lens??

her lens must be blurry.. 

https://youtu.be/b3Wa-g-NhzU

it’s blurry on right side..

https://youtu.be/w4fVahI_dDk?t=121

her lens is so bad

watching blurry videos makes me think that there’s something wrong with my eyesight.. so.. 

https://youtu.be/w4fVahI_dDk?t=165

her lens.. doesn’t focus evenly. it’s like.. out of focus on right side.. maybe it’s not.. put straight in the camera

she’s recording on webcam? webcam maybe.. webcams are usually really bad.. 

I bought one webcam.. and it was so blurry not serviceable at all

https://youtu.be/w4fVahI_dDk?t=198

it would be okay to watch I guess if I knew spanish

https://youtu.be/ffIk6OM_WU0

https://youtu.be/yn_muvEOJ9A

https://youtu.be/yn_muvEOJ9A?t=22

https://youtu.be/yn_muvEOJ9A?t=105

omg you won’t believe.. today’s loot is.. heavy mag.. and backpack again.. 

I.. kinda.. want cake.. damn..

https://youtu.be/cwSoWboSzFg?t=735

https://youtu.be/cwSoWboSzFg?t=709

https://www.twitch.tv/videos/775576118?t=0h1m20s

to be honest this is not that bad

https://www.twitch.tv/videos/776061907

f*ck.. 

subscription is like.. 99.99% of money goes to twitch..

I wish I had twitch prime or something.. because it costs less

nice apples

I though twitch prime is like.. 3.50 or something.. maybe it was discount before..

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/CrackyEsteemedPartridgeBrokeBack

clips are not subscription only though

damn. this is the.. she was abusing this sentinel glitch

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/BlightedRelatedTrayAMPEnergy?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/ColdFamousGrouseTebowing?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/IntelligentFantasticOxBrokeBack?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

wow. her hair and outfit here 

wow. really pretty thing she’s wearing

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/RelatedTriangularClamCoolStoryBro?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/BenevolentCleanHerringPoooound?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

lol. I had karate kid clip too

I was playing caustic too in that clip

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/IntelligentModernMouseYee?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

she looks good here too

if she was streaming in 1080p

there would be more details

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/TemperedGentleCheddarSuperVinlin?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

o damn. clutch

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/FunPrettiestHedgehogChefFrank?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/ArbitrarySassySnoodTwitchRaid?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

wish it was 1080p

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/CrispyOddWormFrankerZ?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

lol wtf was that

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/SweetHealthySandwichMoreCowbell?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/JoyousMildFinchJKanStyle?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

I hate this..

https://youtu.be/AM6ZdLnDFAY?t=8

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/CreativeTubularKiwiVoteYea?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

xD

I was once diamond.. but.. first games.. I had platinum players.. but.. later.. I had masters.. and it was too difficult

https://youtu.be/nuQRebVl_LU?t=309

it was the 3rd clip.. I named it “karate kid caustic”

https://www.twitch.tv/saltychikcen/clip/SlipperyTenuousMangoFloof?filter=clips&range=30d&sort=time

https://youtu.be/3FWrpzgZhoI

https://youtu.be/vMCbJB4yNXo

https://youtu.be/3FWrpzgZhoI?t=111

I’m so numb.. because.. I slept a lot.. and.. it’s late.. so I have to go to bed again.. 

[azuresquirrel]

Alright folks, here is my post of liveblog-y thoughts as I watch these new episodes of Steven Universe that are released and yet also not released at the same time (let me have this one more time: CN IS TERRIBLE). So this entire post under the cut is going to be SPOILER CENTRAL, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Yes, this will be me watching every episode as I do not want to spam people’s dashes with posts of Schrodinger’s Episodes.

I can’t believe there are six goddamn episodes put on an “app” to watch on your GODDAMN PHONE instead of 1. Aired or 2. On a streaming/ondemand service. Fuck it, one more time, I HATE CARTOON NETWORK.

Okay, finally let’s get into it.

“Dewey Wins”

Well we seem to be immediately dealing with the aftermath of the Trial/Homeworld/LARS IS A PINK ZOMBIE adventures. In which everyone looks rightfully concerned except for Steven himself who is talking like is was just another fun adventure. THIS BOY IS REPRESSED AF, SOMEONE GET HIM A THERAPIST. (I mean if he’s going to be therapist to every person in Beach City that means that PROFESSIONALLY he also should have a therapist, IT’S JUST COMMON PRACTICE).

CONNIE ADDRESSING THE EMOTIONAL FALLOUT OF THIS???? THANK YOU.

“We’re safe! Everything’s fine!” YEAH THIS IS OFFICIALLY THE MOST CONCERNED FOR STEVEN THAT I HAVE EVER BEEN. THERAPIST. NOW.

SEE, EVEN LION JUDGES YOUR LIFE CHOICES, STEVEN.

I don’t know where the rest of this episode is going, but Steven cheerfully and INSISTENTLY claiming that “it had to be done” (i.e. giving himself up to Homeworld) … it’s coming across as very Rose Quartz. AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY. Thinking that somehow just because they made the “tough choices” that means that it only affects them and not EVERYONE ELSE.

OH NO SADIE. (I mean I do believe that Lars being off on Pink Zombie Space Adventures is ultimately A GOOD THING for both Lars and Sadie but in the short term of it … oh no.)

I’M GLAD THAT SADIE ASKED IF HE TOLD LARS’S PARENTS (and that he apparently intends to do so after telling Sadie).

Aaaaand this episode just got one hundred times more topical.

IF NANEFUA DOES NOT BECOME THE MAYOR, I WILL BE EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTED WITH YOU, SHOW.

I mean yeah, okay, there really isn’t anything Dewey CAN do about homeworld gems but at the same time also, fuck Dewey.

THIS “EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT” IS SOME KIND OF HORRIBLE REBECCA BUNCH-STYLE SPIRAL. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR MOMS AND DAD?????

“Someone posted it on Tube-Tube.” And 12 people is HALF THE TOWN. AMAZING.

“You’re like the son I never had.” “… you have a son.” This episode is VERY self-aware.

YAY, NANEFUA IS MAYOR.

And very transparent lesson for Steven. “That’s probably how Connie feels.” NO SHIT, SHERLOCK.

… WOAH THEN.

Okay, so if I do have a complaint about this episode, it’s that I don’t think paralleling Steven with Dewey was the best way for Steven to realize that he’s been hurting people. But, I’m glad that it showed the mess that Steven arrived back to in the wake of his actions, especially with Sadie and Lars’s parents,

AND THEN IT STUCK THE LANDING.

WHEN CONNIE DIDN’T PICK UP.

Like it will probably be fixed soon but I’M GLAD IT WASN’T OVER AND DONE WITH IN ONE EPISODE. CONNIE IS RIGHT TO STICK TO HER GUNS. CONNIE FOR PRESIDENT.

“Gemcation”

GOOD, I’M GLAD CONNIE IS STILL STICKING TO HER GUNS.

“Are you good?? Are you safe?? Do you still love me??” GREG YOUR SON NEEDS SOME PROFESSIONAL HELP, JESUS CHRIST.

(yes yes, then there would be no show. THIS IS STILL GETTING TO HORRIBLE “CRAZY EX-GIRLFRIEND” LEVELS).

“I still have like, $9 million dollars left.” I’M GLAD THIS SHOW DOESN’T FORGET THINGS.

Steven trying to wash dishes by literally rubbing the bottle of soap against them = DEPRESSION.

Okay so 1. FAMILY VACATION IS A GOOD IDEA but also 2. BY THE AWKWARD “WOOOS” THIS IS DOOMED TO DISASTER.

I don’t know what Amethyst was doing with that egg and I don’t want to know.

GOOD JOB COACHING YOURSELF THROUGH THAT, GARNET. A+.

GREG SENDING AMETHYST TO BE FUN MOM FOR STEVEN. A+.

OMG she’s trying to give him a “Steven speech.” SHE’S TRYING HER BEST.

I WANT TO BE IN A HOT TUB WITH GARNET.

Look Steven, I want you to get help, I really do, because you need it, but I could do without YOUR PISSY ATTITUDE GETTING IN THE WAY OF POSSIBLE MORE BACKSTORY ON PINK DIAMOND K THANKS.

YAY THEY’RE ACTUALLY TALKING ABOUT HOW TO BE PARENTS TO STEVEN. A+++.

Man things have gotten REALLY bad when your solution to emotional disaster is SEND IN PEARL.

Hmmm … I REALLY do not know right now what to make of Pearl saying that she WANTED Steven to see Homeworld someday WITH HER, so I’m going to leave that there and stew on it for a while.

OKAY, I LAUGHED AT ALL THE RONALDO TEXTS, I ADMIT IT.

Gee, these episodes sure would be effective if they were, I don’t know, SPACED OUT A WEEK OR SOMETHING, LIKE A NORMAL SHOW? SO WE COULD REALLY HAVE SOME TIME PASSING AND SUCH?

Hmph. This episode was good but I must admit that I’m a little frustrated that … well yes Steven would care about Connie THE MOST, that’s fine, but his complete nonchalance about Homeworld … I don’t know. As a stalling tactic to delay more information/reveals, trying to sell it as “Steven is more concerned about his friends than Homeworld stuff” is getting REALLY threadbare after that whole DIAMOND TRIAL/PINK ZOMBIE LARS business. Unless the idea is that he’s repressing the fuck out of it, it is REALLY straining my personal disbelief that Steven WOULDN’T care to know any more at this point.

But all the Greg and Gems parenting stuff was GOOD.

“Raising the Barn”

Oh look. The barn is in the title. Fancy that. I wonder what this will be about.

(CAN YOU GUESS THE THING I WAS SPOILED ABOUT AND AM REALLY REALLY UNHAPPY ABOUT????)

I am REALLY loving this whole “Connie is keeping her distance” thing but AGAIN this would be MUCH MORE EFFECTIVE if this were in a WEEKLY format. (this show doesn’t have bad pacing it has A BAD FUCKING NETWORK)

VIDTIME WITH PERIDOT. A+

LAPIS BLUSHING BECAUSE SHE “WORRIED STEVEN LOST HIS PHONE ON HOMEWORLD.” MY … HEART … .

“Tell us about space!” THIS IS WHY PERIDOT AND LAPIS ARE THE BEST. THEY CARE ABOUT WHAT I CARE ABOUT.

YAY, TRAUMA TIME WITH LAPIS. MY FAVORITE!!!!! (that is actually … both sarcastic but ALSO NOT)

“But they’re installations They need the context of the barn!” I FUCKING LOVE ART LESBIAN PERIDOT.

“There’s not need to get so emotional!” THAT’S THE OCEAN CALLING THE LAKE BLUE, LAPIS.

STRONG WATER WITCH DAUGHTER IS STRONG.

Soooo … . Lapis wants to leave. Peridot does not.

… are they going to break up my OTP?

I AM NOT PLEASED WITH THE DIRECTION THIS IS GOING IN.

ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF THAT FUCKING SPOILER I SAW.

Oh no Pumpkin is ~missing~ how very ~inconvenient~

STEVEN’S FACE IS MY FACE DURING ALL OF THIS.

Oh great. There goes my favorite character.

THAT’S NICE.

Like, obviously everything that happened was completely in-character but fuck it, I’m going to be petty as fuck about this. I AM NOT HAPPY THAT LAPIS IS GONE AND THAT SHE LEFT PERIDOT BEHIND. WHO KNOWS WHEN I’LL GET TO SEE MY WATER DAUGHTER AGAIN. THANKS A LOT, SHOW.

(I WAS SPOILED THAT SHE WOULD LEAVE!!! AND I WAS VERY PISSED!!! I’M STILL PISSED HONESTLY!!!!)

I’M GOING TO BE REAL FUCKING PETTY ABOUT THIS FOR A WHILE PROBABLY, SO HEAD’S UP ABOUT THAT.

“Back to the Kindergarden”

So the theme for this season is DEPRESSION.

PERIDOT REPRESENTS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS TURN OF EVENTS.

Still, it’s sweet that Steven let her have the bathroom again.

I DON’T KNOW WHY PERIDOT DEPRESSED = COUNTRY MUSIC, BUT I FIND THAT KIND OF DELIGHTFUL.

THIS IS LITERALLY THE MOST I HAVE RELATED TO PERDIOT EVER.

Awwww, Amethyst is still happy about getting to meet all her sisters up in space. That’s sweet!

“You can make us feel dumb by telling us all the stuff we don’t know!” AMETHYST, YOU ARE A GEM IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD.

“My sector of countryside was perfect. Now it’s somewhere in space.” Even aside my own personal pissiness, re: this turn of events, PERIDOT IS STILL PAINFUL. HELP THE NERD GEM.

THE FLOWER IS A METAPHOR.

Yeah “re-gardening the kindergarden” WON’T have disastrous effects, I’m so sure.

OKAY, THEM PLANTING SUNFLOWERS IS SUPER ADORABLE.

“I’m glad I was able to fix something.” And something terrible happened to the garden in 3 … 2 … 1…

YEP.

Me: “and of course the flower was a horrible corrupted gem.” Perdiot: “OH! OF COURSE!” Aaaaah, I love the nerd gem a lot.

YAY SMOKY QUARTZ!!!!

I am … REALLY tempted to make a moodboard out of Peridot’s expression in this whole episode. For they are MY MOOD.

“Yeah. We got the subtext.” = THIS IS A GOOD EPISODE FOR AMETHYST.

Okay THIS episode I really liked. Good messaging about depression, and lots of delightful Steven + Amethyst + Peridot hangout times.

I’M STILL FUCKIGONEGIHE PISSED ABOUT LAPIS THOUGH.

FUCK IT, I WILL MAKE THAT MOODBOARD RIGHT NOW.

Yes I am fully aware of the fucking lack of self-awareness of making a moodboard of depressed/angry Peridot faces when the episode is supposed to be about moving on, I AM WELL FUCKING AWARE.

“Sadie Killer”

UM

WELL THAT TITLE ISN’T FOREBODING AT ALL

I HOPE THIS IS THE CASE OF “MENACING-SOUNDING TITLE IS ACTUALLY FUN GOOFY EPISODE” BECAUSE FRANKLY I COULD USE SOME FUN GOOFINESS RIGHT ABOUT NOW.

Oh great. Sadie is working herself to death alone in the Big Donut. THAT’S JUST GREAT.

YOU SHOULD BE IN THIS CUTE BAND, SADIE. ENJOY YOUR FREEDOM FROM LARS.

Good, I can use some Cool Kid nonsense right now. YOU KNOW WHO ELSE COULD???? SADIE!!!!

“I just feel like this seafood festival needs to hear something challenging and provocative.” I am very happy about this.

DOO-DOO

BUTT

THE GOVERNMENT

CORRUPTS

THIS IS THE KIND OF HARD-HITTING SOCIAL COMMENTARY WE NEED IN THESE TRYING TIMES (ahhhh thank you Buck for putting a smile on my face in the midst of my LAPIS DEPRESSION-ANGER)

WHAT? KEEP AT YOUR PRACTICE SO SADIE CAN PARTICIPATE. YOU GUYS ARE BUTTS CORRUPTED BY THE GOVERNMENT.

Awwww, they came over to her place to jam with her! I RESCIND THE PREVIOUS ASPERSIONS ABOUT YOU GUYS BEING BUTTS.

Can the rest of this movie just be them watching crappy horror movies with Sadie? IT WOULD PLEASE ME.

CHANNELING YOUR ANGST THROUGH SPOOKY SCARY MUSIC – A+++++++++

THIS IS. MY PRECISE CONTENT.

“First, lose your youth to your boring job.” THIS EPISODE IS REAL.

And it ends with … Sadie quitting her job. Um, okay?

BUT I GOT SPOOKY SCARY SONGS WITH SADIE AND THE COOL KIDS AND THAT IS REALLY ALL I ASK FOR AT THIS POINT.

“Kevin Party”

NOT FUCKING KEVIN. REALLY?

THIS WILL ONLY BE ACCEPTABLE IF CONNIE IS IN IT.

Looks like Lion has been staying with Connie this whole time then? GOOD, SHE DESERVES A GIANT ZOMBIE LION TO BE THERE FOR HER.

Ugh, do we REALLY need Kevin to show up for every Stevonnie episode? DO WE?

YOU JERK, HE BROUGHT YOU POCKY.

LOOKS LIKE CONNIE IS DOING JUST FINE WITH HER CUTE NEW HAIRDO.

There is entirely too much Kevin in this episode for my liking.

BLAH BLAH BLAH, EMOTIONAL TALK, FRIENDS AGAIN, THE IMPORTANT THING IS THEY DITCH THE PARTY WITHOUT TURNING INTO STEVONNIE. BECAUSE FUCK KEVIN.

Okay, final thoughts:

THIS CONNIE-FIGHT/DEPRESSION ARC WOULD’VE WORKED BETTER SPREAD OUT FURTHER, BECAUSE THERE WAS JUST A LOT OF DEPRESSION.

“Dewey Wins” – really good as a follow-up episode to all the space stuff, just didn’t think Dewey was the best conduit for the message

“Gemcation” – I very much enjoyed Greg and the Gems trying to be good parents. NOT buying the whole “Steven doesn’t care about Homeworld” shit though.

“Raising the Barn” – I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

“Back to the Kindergarden” – PERIDOT IS ME. This one might be my favorite because it had a good mix of cute stuff and funny Amethyst lines (I didn’t mention it above but “Can I bring my music?”/”NO.” was a real solid laugh from me) and depression stuff, but also, PERIDOT IS ME.

“Sadie Killer” – I hope that ending means Sadie gets a better job soon and not that she’s just … unemployed. BUT I LIKED SADIE’S ANGST THROUGH SPOOKY MUSIC, THAT WAS GOOD STUFF. The Cool Kids were some much-needed levity during this little arc.

“Kevin Party” – I GREATLY dispute the idea that we needed KEVIN to get Steven and Connie talking again, Jesus Christ.

(okay I know we’re back in the “Beach City funtimes” stuff but … Pearl and Garnet were only in ONE of these episodes? REALLY? ESPECIALLY GARNET. DESPERATELY LACKING GARNET FOR FIVE DAMN EPISODES.)

(ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU KICK OFF MY FAVORITE CHARACTER)

(SHE’S NOW IN THE “WHO KNOWS” VOID OF MY OTHER FAVES, THE ZIRCONS, SO THANKS A BUNCH FOR THAT, SUGAR WOMAN.)

I don’t know these episodes to me felt mostly … fine. The start of the season was SO FUCKING GOOD with the entire Homeworld arc, and I’m not usually so down on the Beach City episodes as most but … geez there was just a LOT of general down-ness and depression in these episodes. I hope the episodes after this have less down-ness, or not have Steven LITERALLY INTERRUPT POSSIBLE BACKSTORY BECAUSE OF HIS BAD MOOD, THANKS.

… I’M STILL SALTY ABOUT LAPIS. DON’T @ ME.

[bandblogging]

I also hate poison

Words: 1750 Warning: Swearing Requested: no Pairing: Josh Dun x reader Sum.: The one where you and Josh had a fight about you apparently not having enough time for him and you decide to take a break

A/N: this is not proof read sorry I really didn’t have time. Gonna do it tomorrow though. —– “I hate you”, your voice echoes through the hallway you were standing in. “How can you not see how much you’re hurting me? Why can’t you be good, seriously fuck you Dun.”, your voice dropped to more of a whisper. “I’m done with this; I can’t take this anymore”, you squeezed past him and went straight to the front door. “You can only hate something if you loved it once”, he stated as you gripped the doorknob. Your grip tightened and you clenched your teeth for a second. “I also hate poison and I have never loved him”, with that you left the apartment. He was right about you loving him, he knew, you knew, most people knew still it infuriated you.

It had been days since you had that argument, you did not even bother picking up the rest of your things from the apartment before you left the town. On the one hand you just didn’t want to see Josh again but on the other maybe your weren’t really ready to give everything up. It felt way to definite to you. When you left you filled your car up and drove eastwards. All you wanted to do was to get away from him from everything you needed to clear your head. You stopped your car at the first hotel you saw after the sun had set, all you had with you was your purse and whatever was in it. You booked the cheapest room they had for a couple of days so that you could figure out what to do next. You were spread out on the bed like a starfish and just stared at the ceiling for a while. Your phone rang, Tyler you knew by the ringtone. It took you a few seconds to get yourself to pick up,a voice inside you told you that if you just waited a little longer he would give up and you wouldn’t have to be confronted. “Y/N”, he sounded worried, great Josh told him. “We need you here, please come to the arena”, he pleaded. “No, I can’t”, you felt like your voice would break if you said more. “Please, it’s not that far. I know you have worked tomorrow but please. Josh is so off and I think he needs you to calm him down”, then realisation hit you. He didn’t know. Josh hadn’t told him. And also fuck work, you had completely forgotten about that.“No….no Ty”, your voice broke and the first teats streamed down your face.“I can’t. I’m not coming.” The next time he spoke is voice had changed it was still full of concern but now it was far more soft than before. “Y/N. What happenend? Are you okay? Please tell me you are okay.”, he nearly tripped over his own words while speaking. You took a deep breath before talking. “I am okay, well kind of. Don’t be concerned I” He interrupted you, “Y/N, Josh…you and Josh. No, no wait what. You and Josh, did you…did you?”, you basically heard it click in his mind as he figured out what had happened. “Yes, I mean I don’t know. I think so. I didn’t mean it. I.”, your sobs echoed through the room, you had lost control over yourself. “Oh hun. No. Don’t cry. Please.”, he tried to calm you down for a little while, it may not have really worked but at least you felt a tiny bit better. Tyler had to eventually go because the show was about to start and you promised him that you would try and sleep or at least calm down.

While you didn’t sleep horribly that night it certainly wasn’t very good either. You were still unsure of what you should do now. You thought about going back and getting all of your stuff but then where would you go and also you didn’t want to risk seeing him. Deep down all you wanted to do was to not have human interaction for a while, just you and you.

Your phone rang a few times since you woke up that morning but you never found the courage to answer it. You had wallowed in sadness and self pity for the whole day. You had sobbed and cried your eyes out, you had screamed into a pillow so many times you thought your voice would be gone. When night rolled by your stomach started to hurt, you hadn’t eaten the whole day but the only thing you could find was an granola bar in your purse, at least it was something. This night was far more torturous that the last, you woke up so many times with tears streaming down your face. You had dreamed of Josh being hurt, of losing him or of you two fighting again. In the end you gave up sleeping at around 4 am, it was easier to to just stay awake. Staring at the wall straight ahead from you you finally made your decision. You were just not yourself without him and you didn’t like that you. You felt like a piece of you was missing. However you also knew that you should not just come back begging on your knees for him to take your back because it was just as much your fault as his, you weren’t that desperate. You must have fallen asleep again since knocks on the door woke you up. You looked at the clock and saw it was half past nine already. The knocks repeated again and you shouted towards the door “I’m coming. Jesus Christ”, you opened the door after you made your way towards it. You expected room-service or someone like that but no there was Tyler. Before you could close the door again he had already slipped beside you and was now in the room with you. “Good to see you”, he said while sitting down. “Hmh. What do you want?”,you said defeated. “Thanks for the friendly hello. I just drove two states to find you. You know find my phone is not that accurate.”, he laughed but what he didn’t know was that that remark actually really stung. You had already felt aweful about potentially making then worry too much about you. “Well I didn’t ask you too”, you snapped back hoping he would realise his mistake. He stood up from his seat and walked over to you. “ I’m sorry”, he hugged you and patted your back.

10 minutes had passed since Tyler came and you had by now told him the whole situation from you view. “He’s an ass sometimes you know. I bet he didn’t mean it like that. He was just frustrated but I guess he did react like an idiot”, he tried to sound all empathetic but you still felt like he was taking Josh’s side. You jumped slightly when there was a knock on the door, this time more gentle. Tyler jumped up, looking back at you and whispering a “I’m sorry ”, before opening the door. As soon as your eyes layed on the two people outside you knew what he meant. Jenna and Josh, one J to much. “No Tyler. You close that door again”, you stood up and made your way towards all three of them. Suddenly you were engulfed in a hug by Jenna while you saw Tyler drag Josh into the room. Jenna let you go again and grabbed Tyler’s hand. “Both of you are miserable and you are gonna talk about it this until there is a real solution”, she sat down in front of the door practically locking all four of you in the room. You sighed and walked back and forth. “You look shit”, you exclaimed towards Josh when you finally looked up. “You aren’t doing much better”, Jenna interrupted from the side. You shot her a glance and then continued. “Fuck you Josh okay. I just wanna say fuck you…”, there was silence in the room for a while. You looked at Josh, his head hand low and he played with his fingers. You knew those words were ridiculous and unnecessary but it made you feel so good for a moment to hit him in such a state. “Now let’s talk about this like adults”, you stopped your pacing around the room to go up to him. When you stopped in front of him you heard Tyler sigh in relief you did not know if it was because you two would talk it out or if it was just because you stopped pacing up and down the same spot. You grabbed Josh’s chin and pulled his face up. “I do so much for you. You might not realise, I try to do my very best to always be there for you and to shape my life around yours. Sometimes that doesn’t work but that doesn’t mean that you have the right to go at me like that.”, he still didn’t look you in the eye and it kind of disappointed you. You wanted to see the defeat in his eyes knowing that you were right. “I don’t want this to be the end. All I want is for you to be more understanding and for you to work things out rather than run away. Because Josh, I want this”, your finger pointed towards you and then him. It took him a minute or two before he finally answered you practically could see his brain work while trying to find the right words. “I want this too”, his lips slammed against yours, it wasn’t as gentle as normal it was as if he was desperate for affection. Affection you were willing to give him. So you kissed back and when you felt those sparks return to your gut you knew you had made the right decision. He pulled away and rested his head against yours. “I want to work this out. I am so deeply sorry. The last few days really showed me what you mean to me and how much you better my life. I want this to work out, us to work out”, this time you you kissed him and you heard a faint cheer in the background.