#miami i fuckin love you

[jegulusofwesper]

i am so normal about him

falls asleep to lando’s win on repeat

[ratatatastic]

"Who's idea was it to put the cone on your head for the parade? Was that all you?" "Zach Eisenberg [Director, Executive Operations]—I think is his name—he takes care of us a lot at Amerant Bank Arena. I don't know his exact role with the team but he's just kind-of always around, and helps us out. He's friends with Brooks [Koepka.] I think he helps Brooks when he comes to the games. Anyways he found a pylon or I think I might have told him—I was pretty drunk at the time but I think I told him to go get a py—'if you could find a pylon, find one!' 'Cuz they sprung that speech on me, kind-of, last second, you know, five minutes before I was supposed to go up there. I'm like, 'What the fuck am I gonna say?' So I had him go grab the pylon and I grabbed it on the side of the stage right before I was gonna do my speech. And luckily all the clips are of that, you know, me telling him to go fuck himself... 'cuz the rest of my speech was terrible. There's really nothing to it! And I'm so happy that, you know, all the clips are only of that so!" "Yeah, we didn't know you said anything else! I thought that was the entire speech!" "That's all that matters!" "Exactly, exactly! I got away with it there!"

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

i love finding out they basically told ekky he was gonna have to do a whole speech 5 minutes before he was up while hes been drenched from rainwater and alcohol for like the past 6 hours absolutely pissed out of his mind like yeah no wonder his speech basically culminated to THANK YOU SOUTH FLORIDA AND ALSO GIVE IT UP FOR MY D PARTNER WOOOOO yeah that tracks

"But what golf tournament* were you at shortly after that? Somebody was dressed like a cone? Was that Lomberg who was dressed in like a costume? A cone costume?" "He came—Brooks came up to you—" "No, that was his buddy, that was his buddy. He was actually a Sunrise police officer. I actually saw him last night at the Zach Bryan concert! But yeah, no, that's one of his buddies. No, he was completely put to bed the day after. Right? Like he texted me—I personally didn't care, like, how many people at a hockey game are calling me a cone and telling Barkov he's got no hands like it's—you know, that's hockey. That's sports, right? So I didn't give a shit but—yeah, no, it was all in good fun. And then I got a way to get him back! It's perfect!" "But when you did see the first video of him in the box—and I remember watching that, I'm like, 'this motherfucker is rolling esctasy!' His eyes were fuckin' gigantic, he's like, 'Aaargghh.' Like, 'I can't take him, he's calling me a cone! I can't—' But that is kind-of odd that a professional athlete is gonna call you a cone and he's like a fan of yours...it's just—it was really bizarre!" "Goofy!" "Yeah..." "And his eyes were black which, you know..." "What does that mean?" "I just know what that means... and he was fucked up, you know..." "Yeah, yeah! He was definitely fucked up and he agreed that he was fucked up. And he apologised so I didn't care, obviously. And then when I was at that golf event I should've thrown a beer at his backswing or something—at the LIV event when he was actually competing? I should've fucked with him but I couldn't do it... I couldn't—I couldn't find the courage to throw something at him..." "So did he reach out to you like that night? And say, 'Hey, dude... I was just joking, you know...'" "'I took some pills and...'"

*2023 LIV Golf Team Championship (Miami) held from Oct. 20-22 in Doral

[and i suppose more context here lombo and koepka are friends and he even showed up to his cupday when he went golfing in parkland and not to mention that lombo facilitated koepka apologising to ekky so its why the whole cone costume came to be really]

theres a lot more context about this incident and the ensuing storm after it so for archival sakes here are articles about it (x)(x)(x)(x)(x) because its quite a saga but its water under the bridge and there's only so much tabloid-esque coverage thats been reignited after the ekky speech i can take about an athlete who's dumb enough to insult another guy while hes drunk off as his ass in a fucking public setting

but anyways i think its really funny that i said to myself wow thats an oddly petty thing to admit to you know the whole wanting to throw a beer at his backswing ekky... for such a good vibes sweet man who like the only thing youve particularly said about the cone novella is "we'll never be buddies" to which you quickly retracted and then went "holding ill will against somebody and pulling negativity in your body is never a good thing"

and then i remembered who he attended the liv event with and it all made sense

behind every aqua whos being a little mean there is a much worse much more evil looming presence who is encouraging them down this dark path (a gem but especially a june gem)

truly a tale as old as time

[lavaa-baby]

You were nevaaaaa the fart 😂🤭🩷🤍🐍

[idesofrevolution]

The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

[strawberrysainz]

romanticism. charles leclerc

“ being charles leclerc’s assistant was a piece of work. you loved him though. ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning — crude language, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, semi-mature scenes.

word count: 2.8k

“Do you want a biscuit?” He pointed to the box of red, racing-themed biscuits, mouth already full with one. “Please don’t tell anyone.” He added as an afterthought, and you snorted to yourself, setting down a notebook to take a gingerbread man decorated as him.

The instagram handle for the baker was loud and proud on the box, and you took a photo of the little Charles, making a note to post it later.

Qualifying hadn’t gone very well for Charles, hence the angry biscuit-eating. He’d ended up third, but an incident in the famous tunnel of the Principality had cost him three more places. His white suit was blinding in the tiny room, and his frustrated little huffs as he flung things this way and that made you slightly on edge.

You had been scrambling to catch up with him this season; you had been dealing with a family crisis until Miami, leaving Charles with some guy as his assistant for the past races. You had thought he was decent at first, but Charles was a precise guy; if he was relying on you to keep it together at work for him, then you’d better fucking do it the way he wanted. Even you didn’t mess with Charles on a race weekend. He was so nervous or upset or he was the happiest guy in the world - it didn’t matter, you just had to be consistent, comforting and take things as they went.

You swore he could’ve kissed you when you arrived on Monday.

But here you were on Saturday, still uneasy; Monaco had always freaked you out - you didn’t believe in the curse because Charles scorned it, but a part of you had anticipated that a stroke of bad luck would always have its way here. It was nine in the evening, and the crowds were still insane. You were prepared to walk back to your apartment at this point, even if it would take you about an hour with the blocked off roads. You handed Charles his clean clothes to change into after his shower, and you were about to go home for the night -

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

You tilted your head. You knew Charles’ new girlfriend had arrived this morning, surely he’d do something with her?

He must’ve seen the look on your face, and his unsureness- the way he couldn’t believe what he were saying- made you embarrassed.

“No, it’s alright. Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll struggle to get back to mine anyway.” You said abruptly. “Must I make you an Instagram post while you’re in the shower?”

He nodded, unlocking his phone. You immediately went into Google Drive to get some pictures as he left, when a message from Alexandra came in.

You blanched; usually, bar your forgetfulness, you put the phone on the do not disturb function so that you didn’t see what he was getting sent- but the full stops and seriousness made you guiltily keep a finger on the notification.

You’re being ridiculous. I can’t give up my job to come cheer you on. I know it’s Monaco but I thought I made it clear. I can’t make it after all, C. My job is equally as important as yours. You’ll be fine.

You inhaled sharply; she was pissed. You thought she was reasonable, but you knew how much it meant to him to have people here; he struggled in Monaco, and even if he didn’t admit it he was so anxious to please.

I’m sure she’ll have a little fuckin hug and a kiss for you. I’m not a cheerleader, that’s her job, Charles. Watch her under the podium instead. Or maybe not after all- I saw you got P6

Talk tomorrow

Your eyes widened. Was she talking about you?

You were being too nosy. You selected the pictures and put them together, locking his phone on the caption section so he’d write what he’d like. As you opened the door to leave, he was there, his eyes meeting yours; and he must’ve known that you knew something because he lowered his gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said quietly, patting his arm. “Sleep well.”

There was a desperation in his tone when he asked you again to supper.

Well, how the fuck could you say no? He was clearly desperate.

“I’ll invite Joris and Lorenzo, and Arthur.” He said quickly, and you sighed; “The usual?” It was a little tapas restaurant 15 minutes away.

You closed the door then, confused, and walked away, opening your phone to call Joris for a lift.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You were in the front seat surrounded by the familiar smell of Joris’ car; you two had become good friends- always together, waiting, working because of Charles.

You were busy typing about the gingerbread man when Joris asked you about the lack of Alex (Charles had probably been talking about her first Grand Prix together with him).

You paused. “They seem to be having some sort of rift. Not sure. Ask him.” You said shortly; you tried to stay out of his love life as much as you could. You’d liked his previous girlfriend to an extent, but the final events leading up to their breakup made it awkward for you to say goodbye. You tried desperately to be professional but at that point you were a really close friend of Charles’.

Joris nodded. You two did enjoy a paddock gossip now and again, but when it involved Charles alone you really weren’t into it.

You ended up taking longer to get to the restaurant because you made him stop at your house - you weren’t going to turn up in Ferrari gear - and showered, put new clothes on and sprinted back to his car in the drizzle.

Walking through the restaurant to your table in the corner, Joris was busy chattering on about the home GP content he was busy with; you were fiddling with your hair, your bracelets, your clothes, irritated to be there. Trying to be normal around Charles in non-work situations like he didn’t fucking employ you always stressed you out.

Not to mention he was being so awkward as of late.

You slid into the bench next to Lorenzo, giving him a warm pat on the arm as Joris sat on your other side. Charles was smiling at the sight of you - you greeted Arthur, and then him, and you were presented with some iced tea (no one drank next to Charles on a Saturday before the race).

You were lost in the conversation between Arthur and Charles (Arthur hadn’t done so well in F2 today either) when Lorenzo caught your attention.

“How are you?” You adored the way he spoke French; it was low and comfortable, in the kind of way that reminded you of a warm hug.

“Alright.” You said, giggling, and he nodded seriously. He knew about your stress - he’d never raced as intensely as his two brothers - and you’d always found him a comfort.

He was busy telling you about something - a trip with his girlfriend - when you heard the distress in Charles’ tone and turned to him. He was staring at the paella in front of him.

Joris was silent; Arthur just looked lost.

“What’s wrong?” You said quietly, and you noticed a few stubborn tears in his eyes that he was dying not to let fall.

“I’m just not feeling good about the race.” His tone was terribly melancholic, and you felt a bit frozen. “I- Cha-“

Lorenzo was stiff; you blinked.

Charles sat up straight. “It’s okay. Sorry.” His tone indicated no more talking about it, and Joris launched into a conversation about something, Arthur hurriedly joining in. You made eye contact with him sternly; we were talking about this later.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

Supper had come and gone, the bill had been paid, and you found yourself alone in Charles’ car at 10:53 pm on the way back to your apartment.

“Please come in.” You had said to him, after he refused to go home immediately to sleep; promising a cup of tea before he got home.

You had dropped your keys by the front door and entered, your cat greeting the two of you. “What’s wrong?” You said, starting the kettle with a tenderness in your tone you could never replicate with anyone else.

Charles was just sighing, complaining, choking with emotion as he spoke of his fears - dear God, he was struggling - you poured milk and sugar, biting a lip, and eventually it became too much that you brought him in for a tight hug in the light of your kitchen, a song playing in the corner.

You pulled away, and to your surprise he was looking into your eyes softly, a gentleness in his expression that freaked you out. You felt your body soften as his hand met your hip, and you knew, despite yourself, you could never refuse him.

“Cha…” you murmured, gaze on his lips. Holy shit, this was so wrong.

He let out a little sigh that had you going insane, and you turned around to fetch the tea, overwhelmed; this was the only way you could prevent whatever what was happening, not happen.

He murmured your name again, and you turned around slowly, guiltily watching his beautiful face, certain feelings you’d suffocated return just like that.

His hand met your arm, gentle pressure prompting you to put the tea down. You gasped quietly as his hand on your hip brought you together, eyes wide and wanting.

He met your lips with his, and it was like a wildfire that burned, bright and haunting, kissing you everywhere, his touch burning, thigh in between your legs, arms and hands touching you everywhere, you were gasping and he was moaning, the desire in the air thick, scary, and his facial hair tickled you in a delicious way that made you shiver, eyes lidded, dark, and suddenly he was moving to take his shirt off and you stepped back, terrified, lonely.

“Charles, you have a girlfriend.” You said lowly, hair messy. You noticed your lipstick all over his lips and face.

He looked scared of himself. “Fuck. I have to go. I need to sleep.”

“And talk to Alex.” You said, scaring yourself with the heaviness of your tone, and he was gathering his things, tea forgotten.

When he left, you waved him out, mouth wobbling, and you burst into tears after closing the door, clutching your mouth, your sobs shaking you, sinking down to the floor.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You’d agreed to lift Joris the previous night, so you were glad to ditch seeing Charles until you really had to - an hour later, you walked into his driver’s room; he was doing some exercises with Andrea while the social media intern videoed him. You stayed out of sight of the camera, leaning against the wall, trying to distract yourself from the previous night’s events.

You were wearing more makeup than usual to hide your puffy eyes from the tears last night, determined to act as if nothing had happened. You really hated that Charles had cheated on his girlfriend with you; you could put it down to him being vulnerable, but you were at fault as much as he was.

When everyone had left, Charles was left on the couch staring sheepishly at you. You crossed your arms, an invisible ocean separating you two, you two continents.

“I told Alex.” He said calmly.

“And?”

“She said she can’t be with me if I’m not being faithful and she’s not there all the time. We’ve only been together three months. She’s not into it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was my fault. I made a move when I wasn’t meant to. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

From the way he was moaning yesterday, you weren’t sure if that was true.

“Okay.” You snort, moving to open the door. “Driver’s parade in 20 minutes. I’ll see you later?”

He nodded, waving a goodbye as you left.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

P6, like he started.

It was consistent, Joris had joked in your ear as you shook your head, trying not to laugh. He’d had a pretty good race, the team hadn’t fucked up, it was just the way it went.

He had been busy with press and much more before he ended up back with Andrea where you and Joris had been waiting for about three hours (you were also a bit drunk; you’d had too many glasses of champagne from Paddock Club).

“Hi!” You giggled, high-fiving him. “Good job.” Joris also cackled, and Charles shot you a glare. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” You said firmly, shaking your head. “I am very sober.” You said, and Joris nodded seriously. “We had a little bit of champagne.”

Andrea gestures to the bottle that was on the table beside you. “What’s that?”

“For Cha! A well done.” You beamed, and presented it to him. Charles couldn’t help but laugh. “I am going to have to drive you two back in her car, no? Put my bicycle in the back.”

You and Joris were squealing with laughter at the idea, and the two standing before you were laughing at you.

“Come, you fucking idiots.”

“No! You can’t insult me, you kiiiiissssed me,” you giggled, and Joris didn’t catch it, but Andrea did, shooting Charles a glare, who if looks could kill, would’ve shot you dead. He looked so pissed.

“Come,” he snapped, and Andrea said that he’d take Joris.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

He pulled up to your apartment. “Come in.” You said, and Charles scoffed. “Not for a long time now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You looked so vulnerable, rain falling on your head as you peered down at him. “Are you taking my car? I’ll come fetch it tomorrow.” You said softly. “Thanks for taking me. I’m sorry, I was stupid. I needed to relax for one fucking minute this week.”

Charles’ eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to say something before he closed it, nodding curtly, and drove away.

You couldn’t differentiate the raindrops from your tears, forcefully wiping them away.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You knocked on his door at midday the next afternoon, wanting to thank him before flying to Spain. You hated the energy he’d given you since you’d kissed; it was wildly different and you loathed it.

He answered a minute or so later, glasses on and a scruffy jumper, eyes tired. “Hi,” you were out of breath all of a sudden; he was so terribly attractive.

He looked surprised to see you. “I came to say thank you. And get my keys.”

“Come in. Do you want coffee?” He said instead, and you felt a bit of déjà vu from two nights before, hauntingly familiar.

You loved his apartment. The red and white was a colour scheme you adored, and you sat on the sofa while he made you a coffee, one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk just how you liked.

“I want to say sorry for how weird I was this week. I just hate the Grand Prix in Monaco, you know?” You said hurriedly, and he set down the coffee, sitting down next to you. He laughed. “I know. I know.” It had been this way since 2021- when you had started working for him- and he kept having shit races here.

He held out his hand. You squeezed it. “Let’s move on from it.”

He smirked. “Am I such a bad kisser?”

Your jaw dropped, throwing your head back laughing. “Cha!”

He was dead serious. “Why do you want to move on?”

“I work for you?” You said, disbelievingly, and his mouth twitched. “Charles, come on.”

He picked up the mug and took a sip.

You quite literally wanted to die.

He set it down again, looking seriously at you. “I don’t regret the kiss, if you want to know.”

You stare at him. “It literally broke you and your girlfriend up.”

“I like you.” He shrugged. “More than her. More than I thought.”

You laugh, bringing the coffee to your lips. “And when I saw your lipstick on my face…” he trailed off, blushing, “Fuck.”

You swear you were as red as a mother fucking tomato at this point.

“Slow down.” You retorted, trying not to spit the coffee out.

“Kiss me.”

You stare at him again. Was he fucking delusional?

“What?” You hiss.

He rolls his eyes and kisses you.

You’re pulled onto his lap, breath gone, kissing him as hard as you can. Your head is thrown back as he goes for your neck, and the sounds he’s making make you moan.

“You’re really hot with glasses on,” you tell him, and he falters, giggling, before carrying on.

This time you let him take his shirt off, matching him.

You fall back onto the couch. Those eyes on yours, the eyes of your beautiful boy.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

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lorenzotl Padel boyssss

user i wish I had your job girl

carlossainz55 Please give me a shirt @charles_leclerc

maisonde.monaco ❤️‍🔥💋

user So glad to see you back in the paddock again!!

thanks for reading bestie ❤️‍🔥

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[stvolanis]

Hello! I love your writing!

Could I ask for a Tony shot where he is being intimate with the reader and it's her first time and he is very sweet and gentle? Would love to see that side of him. Ty!❤️

Hi anon! Thank you sm for this request, i love writing about Tony<3

Soft Lovin’

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Tony Montana x Virgin!Reader

WARNINGS: foul language, harassment in the workplace, killing (not graphic), Tony is kind of manipulative? Idk how to explain it I’m sorry😭

NSFW WARNINGS: Virgin!Reader, soft Dom!Tony, making out, groping, fingering, heavy praise, cream pie, oral (f receiving), light overstimulation, possessive Tony

sorry if I missed anything! This also isn’t proofread

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

It was a long, fast night at one of the hottest casinos/clubs in Miami, Florida.

You’d just started working as a bartender, just barely turning 21 and in need of a paying job. A friend of yours, Angelina recommended it to you. She said it was a easy way to make money. Just smile, make the drinks, and serve them. But you wish she would’ve told you about the following stares of all of the men in the room.

They followed you everywhere you went, all over your body, shamelessly roaming. It felt as though they’d pounce at any second they could. It was a policy that the men here couldn’t touch you unless you verbally consented to it, but you don’t think they really cared about that rule all that much.

An arm snaked around your waist, and you froze in horror as a man, with breath that smelled of pure tequila, whispered in your ear. “Y-you shhouldd come home wi-with me!” He slurred as his friends chuckled behind him. You felt tears like your eyes as you shoved him away from you. “What the hell is your problem?!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t take that well.

His brows furrowed with clear distaste. “Woooah, baby, no needdd to be a bitch.” He growled out, his breath smelled gawd awful and it made your stomach churn. His arm felt grimy when it was wrapped around you, and now that you look at him, he looked like a crackhead.

His face had scabs all over it, along with scratches that you could tell were from him clawing at his own skin. He had teeth missing, and the ones he had left were different shades of yellow, brown and black. His skin was greasy, as was his overgrown mullet that looked damn near matted on the top. He was thin as twigs, and you could visibly see his bones anywhere you looked over him.

He was the most revolting creature you’d ever seen. He was a dirty, smelly man, and now you felt all dirty and smelly.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” You bit out. Suddenly, the man reached out and grabbed your arm in a painful grip that was sure to bruise, and you yelped out as you tried to push him away from you. “Stop fightingg against me y-you whore!” He choked out.

You’re waterline formed fresh tears that began to spill over, then all the sudden, you were ripped away from him and into the arms of another, more warm person.

You peered up at the man slightly; he was short, but still taller than you were. His hair was a dark brown, a chocolate color and short. It was kinda messy, and you wanted to run your fingers through it to try to fix it. You took notice of the scar that ran along his eye. It was beautiful. Something that was surely a painful experience, yet it looked so pretty on him.

He was ruggedly handsome. A little rough around the edges, sure, but he was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. His hands were thick and calloused, and on his fingers laid beautiful rings that were probably worth more than your life.

You thought that he was foreign, and when he spoke, it seemed you must’ve been right. “Fuck are ya’ doin, huh, man?” He huffed out to the crack head bothering you. “You fuckin’ with a lady jus’ tryna’ do her job? Eh?” He growled out as he lightly pushed you aside, going chest to chest with the other man who was slightly taller than him.

“Woah, Tony, i-I don’t want no trouble, man!” He replied, his hands flying up in surrender as he almost tripped over his own two feet walking backwards, trying to create distance between him and the short, angry man. “Turn around and don’t look over here.” He told you, sparing you a glance.

You did as told, as he seemed to be your savior, but you couldn’t ignore the loud, blaring sound of a gun shot ringing through the air.

You covered your ears and flinched as you let out a yelp. The ringing in your ears hurt, and your breathing became uneven as you felt hands gently remove your hands from your ears. “You’re alright, baby.” Tony muttered softly in your ear.

He had been eyeing you all night, and truthfully, he was no better than any of the men here when it came to the staring. But, the thing that separated him from them, was that he would never come onto a woman who didn’t want him.

You were a small, dainty little thing. He had no idea what you were doing in a place as filthy as this. Even when he was watching her from afar, he could see her little body trembling. The way her hands would tighten when she passed by men. The snarls women sent her. She flinched at every little thing.

When he had grabbed you from away from that man, your scent flooded his senses. You smelled of lily’s and vanilla, and a hint of whisky. He was sure the whiskey part came from when he’d seen you spill it all over yourself earlier on accident after nearly tripping over your own two feet. He thought it was cute, though.

You reminded him of a deer. So pretty, and fragile. Curious or everything you shouldn’t be. Flinching at the littlest things. Even when he faintly heard you speak earlier, your voice was so soft spoken and sounded like velvet on his ears.

His little Bambi.

So when he was ‘casually’ at the bar ordering a drink and he noticed that man harassing you, obviously he’d see this as his chance to come and swoop you off of your feet. He had this all planned out, you falling into his arms right where he wanted you.

And now as he stood behind you, your back to his chest in ragged breaths with lingering gun smoke in the air and the sound of people screaming and running, he knew he had you where he wanted you.

“You’re alright, Bambi.” He muttered sweetly into your ear. Your head whipped around, and he felt his heart thud in his chest as you met face to face with him. Your eyes glimmered under the club lights, but the tears in them made your doe eyes all the more beautiful to him.

“W-what..what did you do? What happened?” You asked, your trembling voice barely above a whisper. Almost as if you were afraid that if you talked to loud, something else would happen. “Nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it. All that matters is that your safe now.” He replied.

“I-I need to go.” You muttered as you pushed yourself away from him. You were slipping away from him, and he didn’t like the idea of that very much. This resulted in him grabbing your hand softly. “I—let me make sure you get home safe, yeah? C’mon.” He told you.

You hesitated for a moment. A strange, foreign man who just killed someone for harassing you wants to make sure you get home safe. Sounds promising. “Okay.” You sighed as you walked out of the front door and out into the parking lot, the man following closely behind.

He led you to his car, opening the door for you to make sure you got in properly before getting in himself. “can you at least tell me what your name is?” You huffed out as you put on your seatbelt. He chuckled as he glanced at you, starting the vehicle. “Antonio Montana.” He told you after a moment. “But people jus’ call me Tony.” He added.

He had a dorky kind of smile when he said it, and it made a smile of your own form. “I’m—“ you started, but you didn’t get the chance to finish. “I know who you are, baby.” He said.

Your face bloomed red. “You’re not from here, are you?” You suddenly asked. He smiled. “I’m from Cuba.” He said. It made sense now, his accent was thick, and it made your legs squeeze together, which he didn’t fail to notice. “Oh.” Was all you said with a nod of understanding.

“Whddya doin’ in that place, anyway?” He asked. You sighed as you pushed your hair back from your face. “Needed the money. A friend said it would be easy.” You frowned. Tony clicked his tongue. “Need new friends.” He said with a chuckle.

“I—will you be my friend, Tony?” You asked. You didn’t really know why you asked, but he saved you tonight; and it would be nice to have more friends. “No.” He said, and your mouth hung agape. Guess not then.

“Wha—why?” You stuttered out with furrowed brows as your body shifted to better look at him. He inhaled sharply before his eyes pierced into yours. “Can’t be friends with someone I wanna fuck, baby.” He said, his voice deep. It sounded like he was restraining himself from saying more.

Your mouth hung open and your cheeks reddened. “I’ve—I don’t—“ you stuttered, embarrassment consuming you. The car halted sharply at large gates as his head snapped to you. “You’re a virgin.” He said, matter of factly.

You nodded as you broke eye contact with him. You heard him whisper a breathless ‘fuck’, but it slipped passed your mind as the large gates opened, and as you drove forward, a large mansion revealed itself.

You were lower-middle class, just barely scraping by. Never in your life did you ever think that a random foreign man who just so happened to be one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen would kill someone for you, tell you he wants to have sex with you, and then proceed to take you to his mansion.

“Holy shit.” You muttered. You were gawking like a peasant, but you didn’t care. The closer you got to the house, the bigger it got. It was unnecessarily big, but the men stationed outside with guns didn’t go unnoticed to your prying eyes.

“What in the hell do you do, Tony?” You asked as he stopped the car in front of the house. He stepped out and opened your door for you, his hand gently holding yours to stable you. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He said.

And you weren’t gonna question him any further than that.

He lead you into his large home, and you were struck. Everything was red with hints of gold, and straight forward stood a large globe with the words ‘the world is yours’ on it. He led you up the stairs with a gentle hand to your back, directing you where to go.

You turned left and he stopped you at a large white door. “You can stay in here, take a shower n shit, I’ll be the next room over.” He said as he waved his hand around to the door next to yours. “Okay, thank you, Tony.” You smiled, to which he returned before walking to his room.

You entered the room, and surprisingly, it was different shades of purple. The walls were a dark purple with gold trim, and it looked beautiful. There was a large bed with lilac and dark purple bedding that had flowers engraved on it with lace trims. There was another door across the room, and when you opened it, it revealed a large bathroom with a gold trimmed tub that was built into the ground—almost like a jacuzzi.

It was glorious, you’d never seen a bathroom of all places look this extravagant.

You stripped from your clothes that clung to your body as your turned on the water, switching it to warm. As you stepped in, it felt warm against your skin; just what you needed after the bullshit you encountered today.

Suddenly, the door opened, making you gasp and cover yourself with your hands. In walked Tony with a knowing smirk on his face. “Sorry, baby, forgot to mention we share a bathroom.” He chucked out as he began to undress himself. “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked as you eyed him.

His body was toned and fit. Hair covered his chest and arms thick, and the gold chain that hung on his neck made you gulp. You couldn’t control yourself as your eyes looked further down, and your mouth slightly hung agape as you took in the sight before you.

His v-line was deep and his happy trail made your thighs squeeze together. He was uncut, his pink tip barely peeking through his skin. He was girthy, very girthy. The length was intimidating, and you felt like his cock was staring at you.

You absentmindedly shook your head. Your mind was spinning, and you were unsure if the feelings you felt were feelings you should have about a man you’d just met. He chuckled to himself at your reaction as he lowered himself into the tub across from you.

And for some reason, you felt yourself move your arms away from your body to stop hiding yourself from him. Tony felt himself get hard under the water from the sight of you before him.

Your body glistened with water, and the soft ripples of your skin made his jaw clench—but what really got him, was your perky nipples just barely peeking through the water. Hard, and he wished to know just how sensitive they were. Your neck was beautiful, bare. He wanted to wrap his hands around it and ruin your life, but he knew he couldn’t; not yet, at least.

“C’mere, Bambi.” He said. You hesitated for a second before making a move towards him. He gently grabbed your arm and positioned you onto his lap. You could feel his cock beneath you, hard and prominent. It rested against your cunt that clenched around nothing. “Tony..” you whispered breathlessly.

“You gon’ let me make you feel good, baby? Hm?” He muttered against your lips. The way you shook your head unbelievably fast was embarrassing, but god, did it turn the man on.

His lips met yours in a heated kiss. His lips were rough and just a little chapped against yours, but you didn’t care. His tongue prodded against your mouth, and your tongues tangled together. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, and everything about the interaction you were having right now was sloppy.

It was a mess, the way the mix of your saliva stringed onto the both of your tongues when you pulled away, just to dive right back in and continue. Your lips were swollen and red, puffy from Tony sinking his teeth down onto them in his haste of kissing.

His hands roamed your body, from groping your sensitive breasts to down your waist before resting on your plump ass. “Not gon’ fuck you here.” He said, breathlessly against your lips as he pulled the both of you up and into his bedroom.

He laid you softly onto the bed, moving your wet hair from your face. He stared at your for a moment. “Stay here. With me.” He demanded. “I’ll take care of you.” He said as his fingers traveled down, prodding at your entrance.

“Yes, anything, just please—“ you whimpered out as he slowly entered a finger into your sopping cunt. “Shh, I know.” He said as his finger began to enter you at a steady pace.

“More, please!” You told him. He clicked his tongue. “So needy. Gotta make sure you’re ready to take my cock, Bambi. Don’ wanna hurtcha.” He cooed out, holding your free hand in his, squeezing reassuringly.

You bit down onto your lip as he added in a second finger, beginning to speed up his pace. “You ever touch yourself? Hm?” He asked breathlessly as he watched the way you squeezed down onto his fingers. You nodded your head. “Cant make myself cum.” You whimpered out, your face blooming red.

He laughed mockingly. “Que hermosa.” He said. You didn’t know what that meant, but it made your stomach clench in an unfamiliar way. “Tony! I feel weird!” You gasped out, attempting to shove his hands away.

“S’okay, baby, just let go.” He said as he kissed down your stomach to your pussy that seemed to be talking to him everytime his fingers fucked into you. He sucked your throbbing bud into his mouth harshly, and the feeling in your stomach snapped as you released your juices all over his face with a loud moan.

He shook his head against your pussy, your clit still in his mouth, and you damn near screamed. He released your aching bud with a smug smile. He lifted himself up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he lined himself to your entrance.

“Wait—Tony-“ you muttered, and he halted his movements. “What’s wrong, Bambi?” He asked softly. You bit down onto your lip. “M’scared.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled. Not a mean, cocky smile; but a sweet one. “S’okay, I’ll be gentle.” He said as he kissed your forehead, down to your cute little nose, then both of your cheeks, all the way down to your chin before he finally planted a kiss to your soft lips. You felt your heart literally explode.

His tip entered you slowly, before you knew it he was half way in and the stretch was painful. You both hissed, but for different reasons. You were tight around his cock, clamping down on him with a force, nearly making it hard to move. Meanwhile, it felt like he was tearing you apart on his cock.

Your nails dug into his back as you clung onto him, your little sniffles and whimpers not going unnoticed to Tony as he kissed your shoulder. “Doin’ so good, baby. Takin’ my cock good.” He said through clenched teeth.

He was finally all the way in you, and Tony wanted to move badly, but he refrained in fear of hurting you. Tears rolled down your face, and Tony kissed them away while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“Y-you can move.” You whispered, and Tony wasted no time in slowly pulling out before gently entering you again. The pain was quickly replaced with a pleasure you’d never felt before. “Oh my god—“ you gasped out as he entered you again, a little more harsh this time.

He filled you to the hilt, and you felt as though his tip was hitting your cervix as he rutted in you. “Amazing fuckin’ pussy, shit.” He groaned out as he began pounding into you.

Your moans grew uncontrollably and your breast bounced with every thrust his hips delivered to you and you felt like you were on cloud nine. You were so full, and you couldn’t get enough of his cock.

He was completely pussy drunk and the both of you couldn’t even form coherent words. Your gummy walls were warm and sucked him in so nicely. He never wanted to leave, and he was dreading the moment he was going to have to pull out of you. Your cunt felt like it was made for him, molding perfectly just to suit him and only him.

He was going to make sure he was the only person you were ever going to fuck again. He was going to ruin you for any other man, and make sure the whole world knew that you were gonna be his woman and his alone. He was the king, and he needed his queen. And when he seen you in that lousy club, he knew you were the one.

Nice, beautiful, soft and obedient.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, along with both of your moans, and your pleading. “Love this fuckin’ pussy, s’all mine, yeah?” He said as his forehead rested against yours.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he slammed into you harder. “Ffuckkk, yes, yes, Tony, all yours!” You slurred out. He chuckled. “My good girl.” He moaned out as his hips drilled into yours at an inhumane pace.

“M’a good girl. M’your good girl.” You babbled out, not even realizing what you were saying as you nodded your head feverishly. “Gonna fill this pussy. Make you mine.” He groaned out as his thrusts became sloppy.

You felt yourself cum again, releasing your juices once again all over his lower abdomen. The way you were moaning and twitching under him, overstimulated, triggered his own release as he spurred his cum into your sloppy pussy; painting your walls white. But he didn’t stop, and his cock continued to fuck into you.

Your cunt was milking him and he wasn’t complaining. You were an uncontrollable, moaning mess under him. Your pussy was sensitive and sore by the time he finally pulled out of you, his body thumping next to you as you both laid breathlessly.

His arms pulled you into him, and being in his arms, legs tangling together, made you feel like all of this was so right. So perfect. He was so perfect.

You’d never be able to get enough of him after this, and Tony knew he was done for. The both of you craved each other more than anything you’d ever craved.

You fell asleep in his arms that night, the last thing you felt was Tony press a kiss to your temple and the world around you went dim.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

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[yellowbrokenblue]

Right Person. Wrong Time

harry styles angst

summary: Harry’s fame puts you in danger, and he can’t let himself be the reason you get hurt

word count: 1.1k

— — —

Harry was half way through a residency as Madison Square Garden. The whole world loved him. He’d been crowned the new king of pop.

You’d left the show half way through to grab some food, and ended up wandering to take in the pretty lights of the city.

He’d barely spoken to you this morning, leaving the hotel room barely uttering a goodbye. He didn’t tell you his plans for after the show or what time he’d be back at. The past few days he’d been distant. It was unlike him considering how close you’d been for the past few months.

Apart from rehearsals and performing you’d been practically inseparable since you started dating, but now it sort of felt like he was slipping away.

He got back to the hotel room after midnight, you had reruns of an old sitcom from your childhood playing on the TV while you had been waiting for him.

“You’re late tonight.” You smile at him as he comes through the door.

“Yeah.” He says gruffly.

“You okay?” You ask, “You’re usually in a more talkative mood.”

“Been a long day.” He shrugged.

“Yeah I get it. I just feel like we haven’t spent much time together recently.”

“Yeah, because I’m working.” He snapped, “I’ve had a show like every day.”

“No, I know that-”

“Well clearly not.”

“I was just trying to be nice, no need to go all moody on me.” You roll your eyes.

“You just don’t understand what it’s like for me.”

“I don’t understand?” You scoffed, “Harry I’ve given up everything for you. I cancelled the lease on my apartment, I quit my job, I left my fiancée. Just so I could come with you on this damn tour.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do any of that.” He said angrily, “You done all of that on your own, don’t fucking blame that on me.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“Then stop being a fuckin’ brat.”

You shook your head, not believing what was happening right now.

“I told you that this wasn’t going to work out, right from the beginning. I told you we should’ve just left it in Miami, but you wanted to keep it going.”

“We both wanted to keep it going, you were just too much of a coward to commit yourself to it. You can’t commit, Harry, to anything.”

He slammed his fist against the wall, knuckles turning red with the force he hit the plasterboard. His face was red with anger. With a combination of his drunken state and the heat of this argument, this was one of the worst tempers you’d ever seen from him.

“I commit. I commit every single day. To this job, this life.”

“But you can’t commit to me?” You shout, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m just asking for a little respect here.”

“This just isn’t working out.” He said.

You’d tried to stay strong throughout this, but as soon as those words left his lips you couldn’t help but to start crying. Tears flowed down your cheeks and sobs escaped your mouth.

Harry just stood and watched.

He stood emotionless, watching you break down in front of him, every emotion you were feeling was caused by him and he looked as if he didn’t care.

“I think you should go back to Miami. Coming on the rest of the tour isn’t a good idea.”

You felt sick. You felt like you were going to vomit everywhere. A mixture of different thoughts flooded your brain.

Where would you go? You had no apartment.

How would you get a flight? You had no money.

Harry had made a promise to you that he’d take care of you while he was on the road, and now he’s here breaking that promise in a million different ways.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You should’ve listened to me before. This wouldn’t be happening right now.”

“So what went wrong, huh? You bored of me? You found someone else? Or has the alcohol just made you honest for the first time since I’ve known you.”

“God, I’ve not found someone else. There is no one else can’t you fucking see that?”

“Then why are you doing this? Why are you hurting me for no reason.” It was hard to breathe through the crying. It had already been a long day, but coming home to this had made it so much worse, “You’re standing there watching me get myself into such a state and you look like you couldn’t care less.“

“There’s always a reason.” He shouts, “Always a fucking reason.”

“Then you need to tell me. Help me understand why you’re just giving up on this. On us.”

Your heart was beating out your chest. This man, in the few months you had been together, had become your whole life. And now you were loosing him for what seemed like forever.

“If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”

“Nothings going to happen, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Those photographers yesterday were just the start. Ever since people found out about us, your whole safety has been jeopardised. I will not let anything happen to you because of me.”

“Harry-”

“No.” He interrupts, “You wanted an explanation so let me talk.”

“As long as you’re with me you’re not safe. People will stalk you and invade on your privacy for as long as I’m in the public eye. This isn’t the life either of us want for you.”

“I don’t give a shit about all of that, I just want you.”

“I can’t let you give up all your privacy just for me. That’s not fair.”

“This should be my decision, Harry.” You argue.

He shakes his head.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of putting on the whole asshole act.”

“I needed you to listen. I still need you to listen.”

“I am listening.”

“Well you’re not hearing me properly then. We need to be over. We can’t keep this,” He gestures between you both, “up, because it means you’re not safe.”

“Then up the security, get me a bodyguard.”

He shakes his head, and for the first time since this conversation began you could see sadness in his eyes.

“You and I both know that you don’t want a bodyguard following you around for the rest of your life.”

He reaches for your hand, placing his lips against the back of it softly.

“I’ll sort out a flight and somewhere for you to stay, don’t worry about that. This isn’t what I want to happen, it’s what needs to happen. And if somehow, somewhere in the future we’re brought back together then we will be. Just… Not right now.”

Deep down you knew he was right. The insane photographer trying to get in your cab the other night was a step too far, and no doubt something like that could happen again on a bigger more dangerous scale.

But you didn’t want to loose him.

Right person. Wrong time.

[ghostofaboy]

Finally and Final

Pairing: Javier Peña/Steve Murphy Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 2444

Warnings: Hand job, period typical homophobia, infidelity

Summary: At first, Javi believes Steve is angry with him, but it turns out it's something else entirely.

Note: This has not been beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. My first time writing Stavier, but I fucking love them as a pairing. This was a request from Anonymous as part of my 100 Follower Celebration.

It was clear Steve was still mad at him. Only the week before, he'd shoved Javi up against the wall in the embassy, hissing accusations in his face before storming off. Javi hadn’t done what Steve accused him of, of course he hadn’t, but he did need Steve to be onboard with what came next in the fight with Escobar. 

But in that moment, instead of defending himself, all Javi had been able to think about was Steve's breath on his face, how warm his hands were and how hard Steve had made him. Heading home, Javi had jacked off to the thought in the shower, covering the tiles in his come before climbing into bed and pushing the deviant thoughts of his partner out of his mind.

Now Escobar was out of his bullshit prison and the hunt was back on, that should have been good news. Except, Steve’s wife Connie had also returned to Miami, leaving Steve a drunken mess. He’d been damn lucky Messina hadn’t sent him home then and there. Javi had vouched for him, explained the situation, and that seemed to be good enough for their new boss. Javi had thought it would also be good enough to win Steven over. But apparently not.

Now Steve was glaring at him as they went over tedious reports filled with nothing that was remotely helpful to their goals for finding Escobar once more. As he looked up from his desk, Javi could see those blue eyes were analyzing him, watching his every movement, taking in every detail.

“What?” Javi finally snapped, prompting a smirk from Steve. “You’ve been staring at me all fucking day.”

“No law against it.” Steve’s drawl sounded thicker than usual and as he glanced to the other agent’s left, Javi spotted an empty whiskey glass sitting on Steve’s desk.

“Damn it Murphy.” Javi ran a hand down his face, dropping his voice to a whisper. “You’re drunk? Here? Are you serious?”

“I’m not fuckin’ drunk.” Steve scowled.

“Then quit fucking staring at me.” Javi frowned. “Or else people’ll think you’re sweet on me.”

It had been a throwaway line. A joke meant to break the tension. Something that Javi had said to Steve a thousand times before and gotten a “fuck you” or a laugh from. But as the words left his mouth, Javi watched in fascination as Steve’s face flushed, his eyes trained on Javi’s lips and a flicker of embarrassment danced across his handsome face.

“Fuck this.” Steve muttered, pushing himself up from his desk abruptly and striding out of the office space. “I need a break.”

Javi just sat there watching Steve’s ass as he left, the realization of the moment hitting him and twisting inside him uncomfortably. Sure, he’d been lusting after Steve since the blond had landed in Bogotá, but Steve was married. And up until very recently happily married. Lusting after someone he knew he couldn’t have was one thing, Javi was used to it whenever he met a handsome man. But the slither of possibility that Steve’s eyes had offered him just then was something Javi hadn’t had to deal with before, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

#####

Steve hadn’t returned to his desk by the time the sky went dark outside and the men of the Search Bloc were chatting about calling it a day. Glancing around as they filled out, Javi knew he had to go find Steve, but quietly without drawing attention. Grabbing his gun, jacket and pack of cigarettes, Javi set out to start checking all the places the blond could have slipped off to.

It had taken a surprisingly short amount of time to find Steve. After checking the cafeteria, bunks and bathrooms, Javi had remembered something Steve had said about an unsecured outbuilding on the every edge of the school grounds where Search Bloc, and themselves, were now based. It was filled with old boxes of files, the original contents of which were far too water damaged to make sense of. Whatever it had originally been used for, Javi had no idea, but as he quietly made his way over to the boarded up structure, sure enough there was a small light inside.

Sitting on a chair that looked like it was a stiff breeze away from collapsing was Steve, thumbing through a very beat up looking magazine. At his feet an old lantern was giving off a soft warm glow, although how wise it was to have that in a room filled with paper, Javi wasn’t sure. Approaching the slightly ajar door, Javi coughed lightly, prompting Steve to quickly roll up the magazine and raise his head to meet his partner’s gaze before dropping it back down slowly.

“What are you doing out here, Murphy?” Javi slipped inside before leaning against the door frame. The whole room smelt of damp, musty paper and sweat.

“Just thinkin’.” Steve offered a lopsided smile, still not meeting Javi’s eyes. “You were lookin’ for me?”

“Course I was.” Javi took a step forward to crouch in front of Steve, trying to get him to look at Javi. “Was worried about you.”

“Yeah?” Steve let out a mirthless laugh. “I’m ok. I just needed…” Steve trailed off, shrugging and running his thumb over the worn magazine.

“Look, about before-”

“Forget it.” Steve shook his head. “Look, get outta here, man. You’ve got better things to do than babysit my sorry ass.”

“True.” Javi gave a small laugh. “But I don’t want to just leave you here like… this. You wanna go grab a drink?”

Steve just shook his head. “Not really in a social mood.”

“Fair enough.” Javi nodded, letting silence fill the space. Not moving from his position in front of Steve, Javi found his eyes being drawn to the rolled up magazine that the other man was still clutching. 

Steve had rolled it up as soon as Javi had come in, not letting the other man get a look at what it was. Small pieces of the faded cover peeked out from between Steve’s fingers, and Javi knew immediately what kind of magazine it was. He had plenty of them at home and the more he looked, the more skin he could see, then a nipple. Yeah, he had plenty of these at his apartment.

Looking over Steve slyly, Javi started to take in the details he’d missed when he’d first entered the small building. Steve’s flushed cheeks, the crumpled up pieces of paper he’d used to clean up with, and the most obvious, the not quite zipped up fly of his jeans.

“You, er, you want me to leave you for some more quality alone time?” Javi chuckled, motioning to the magazine in Steve’s hand, watching as the other man’s face grew redder.

“It’s not like that.” Steve’s eyes shot up. “I mean, I just found it and-”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” Javi held his hands up in mock surrender. “You know how many of those I’ve got at my place? Which one is it, maybe I’ve got it?”

Steve didn’t answer, his hands curling tighter around the magazine, as his eyes studied Javi’s face. At first, Javi was confused. Sure, Steve was married, but every guy jacks off, right? So what if he’d found a dirty magazine and spanked one out. But then, achingly slowly, it started to dawn on Javi why Steve was reacting like this. The beads of sweat on his temple, his large dark pupils as he watched Javi lick his bottom lip, the twitch under his jeans that not even the thick denim could hide.

“Like I said,” Javi swallowed hard, locking eyes with Steve, “maybe I’ve got that one.”

Steve nodded, understanding Javi’s meaning, and slowly loosened his grip on the magazine. Gradually, it unfurled in Steve’s trembling hand, letting Javi get a better glimpse at the oiled up ass cheeks on the man on the cover. Huh, he did have that one at home, Javi thought as he pushed down an amused chuckle. 

“You got a favorite in there?” Javi growled out, locking his eyes with Steve’s again as he reached for the zipper of the other man’s jeans. “I like the one near the end. The one dressed like a cowboy.” Tugging the denim open, Javi carefully pulled out Steve’s hardening cock. “I like his ass. You?”

“Yeah.” Steven nodded, licking his lips and shifting his hips to help Javi free his dick. “Yeah, he’s… he’s hot. Nice thick… fuck… nice cock.”

“Yeah.” Javi began to slowly pump Steve, pulling a gasp from the blond. “You know, I used to watch the guys my dad would hire. There was one, when I was about 16, he’d get changed in the barn. He knew I watched.”

“You ever… fuck… you ever do anythin’ with him?” Steve moaned out, bucking his hip slightly as Javi stroked his cock steadily. 

“First cock I ever sucked.” Javi chuckled, reaching out with his other hand to clumsily free his own trapped erection. “You ever done anything like this before?”

“No.” Steve’s voice was little more than a whisper as his eyes drifted down to Javi’s thick cock. “Fuck, can we… I mean… shit…”

“Not here.” Javi continued to pump both cocks, gently thumbing over Steve’s head to collect the precum that was beginning to flow. “But another time, somewhere more private. Sure. We can have some fun.”

“Fuck.” A small smile creeped across Steve’s lips as he let his head drop back, exposing his neck, while Javi began to pick up the pace.

The strokes had been slow at first as Javi tested how much Steve would let him do. So each stroke had been tender and leisurely, his fingers sliding down Steve’s shaft pulling quiet gasps and moans from the other man. But now Javi needed to come, he needed to watch Steve come. The spell might break any second, someone could come find them, anything could happen that could mean this might be the only chance Javi got. 

Javi’s pumps became more rhythmic, quicker, as he stroked himself and Steve in time. Another time, if he got another shot at this, he’d want to bring their erections together, to touch them, and let the friction of the other's shaft add to the heat. But for now Javi settled for this as his skin prickled with arousal. The coiling tension inside him building with each motion as his whole body throbbed with need.

Steve’s eyes were fixed on Javi’s hands, watching as his thick fingers skirted over hot flesh and pulsing veins coated in their own arousal. His plush lips were slightly parted, flushed as pink as his cheeks, and Javi longed to plunder Steve’s mouth. The only thing stopping him was the thought that actually might be too intimate just yet. A hand job was one thing, a kiss was another. An act more sensual than sexual. Javi didn’t want to rush Steve, he wanted to savor everything he could get.

They were both breathing heavier now, the burning fire inside them desperate to explode, so Javi increased the pace again. It was time for them to finish. And so Javi began to quicken his hand until the stroke turned into frenzied jerks that had Steve clasping a hand over his mouth and Javi biting down on his bottom lip. If anyone were to come in now, he wouldn’t be able to stop, wouldn’t be able to hide what they were doing together. So Javi pushed on, frantically pulling him and Steve to the edge.

Steve came first with a muffled cry. The thick white ropes flying from his cock, coating Javi’s hand and hitting his forearm. The hot release cooling on his skin as Steve trembled in his seat. Javi had only just let go of Steve’s dick and let himself fall back slightly to give the other man a good view before he too came. Letting his head drop back, Javi pinched his eyes shut and growled out a curse as he painted the floor of the room with his seed. 

For a moment, the world melted away as Javi allowed himself to dissolve into the pleasure of the moment. His thighs shook as his whole body vibrated with his orgasm, and all Javi could do was ride the brief high. Finally, as it ebbed away, Javi opened his eyes to find Steve slumped in the chair gazing at him.

“Fuck.” Javi panted out, looking around the space for something to clean himself up with. Grabbing some crumpled paper and roughly wiping his arm and hands, Javi turned back to Steve.

The other man seemed in a daze, watching Javi without really seeing, his soft cock still hanging from his open jeans. Tucking himself away, Javi watched as Steve seemed to slowly come back to reality once Javi’s dick was out of view. In a flash, Steve redressed and ran a shaking hand down his flushed, glistening face.

“I… um… shit.” Steve frowned up at Javi. 

Opening his mouth to answer, Javi jumped as voices began to drift in through the still ajar door. The two voices, both speaking Spanish, were still a way off, but the effect on Steve was immediate. Leaping up out of the chair, Steve rushed over to the door and peered out.

“Relax.” Javi tried to soothe him, taking in the scene in the area. Come spattered the floor, alongside gay porn, and the scent of sex hung in the air. “Come on, as soon as they pass we’ll leave. Get somewhere more… well… more private.”

Still staring out the door, Steve just nodded. Then after a few moments waved Javi over for the two of them to leave. Walking briskly across the campus, Javi could see Search Bloc officers jogging in the distance, others were walking and chatting while he and Steve made a beeline for the bunk room and straight to their sparse room. If only they knew of what the two gringos had just done in that outbuilding.

Once safely inside, Javi slumped down onto the thin mattress of his bed, while Steve shakily lit a cigarette before offering the pack to Javi. As they sat smoking in silence, Javi had a sinking feeling that this was never going to be mentioned again by Steve. Once the sun came up, it would be as though he never happened as far as Steve was concerned. He’d go back to trying to fix things with Connie, and Javi would have to return to his hookers. And the worst part was, Javi was almost sure he could live with that.

[melis-writes]

Blood Money (Tony Montana x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut) Chapter 3 – An Eye For An Eye.

Chapter 2 / Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami." / “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

Tony's fiery gaze burned into the back of your mind but your name etched on his heart from the very moment he knew who you were. Keeping you on his mind like prayer, Tony wastes no time in attempting to squeeze himself out of every interrogation at the Cuban migrant camp he and Manny are detained in. Like a power move claiming he knows you, Tony's beckoning you to meet him once more in your hometown with bold claims striking the attention of your father–one of the most notorious, wealthy businessmen of Miami–with one claim being that of love.

[WARNINGS]: None!

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Oh my goodness, a LONG time coming and the chapter update is finally here at last!! 😭💀 I'm thrilled to update this fic again and share it with the Tony girlies! Battling writer's block and life getting super busy was a chore but I. AM. BACK and writing! And yet I must break everyone's heart again by saying this update of Blood Money officially marks my temporary hiatus of Al fics outside of The Godfather universe. 💔 I will now solely be working on my Godfather fanfics until I'm finished so I have ample time and opportunity to write more consistently and update fics even more often than I ever have. I'm definitely not abandoning this fic and I will finish it someday soon! For now, let's dive back into Tony and Celeste's story!! 🥺🤞🏻

With a taste for success and dollar bills, Tony Montana’s drug empire grew in vast wealth, power and influence by your side as the kingpin’s lover. From sharing an intimate history in Cuba, you and Manny Ribera were the only ones to believe and support Tony from rags to riches. Embroiled in the same lifestyle and sharing enemies, you and Tony come to build your empire and world together with the threat of it collapsing from the inside. As partnership turns to betrayal and thrill to danger, you find yourself in-between ultimatums and sacrifices for the man you love.

'I'm always in the right, man. Always am.' The shit-eating grin over Tony's face spreads equal amounts of tension and frustration throughout the interrogation room; keeping the officers on edge for word back from your family knowing Tony could potentially be a protected individual under the Navarro family while thinking at the very same time that Tony could be bullshitting everyone just to waste their time.

Tony sits all too comfortably in front of the officers with his arms crossed, all the more amused watching them huff quietly to themselves and glower back at Tony every few minutes.

"So--" Tony attempts to start a lively conversation on his behalf.

"You shut the fuck up, Montana," the first cop points his finger at Tony. "Don't say a fuckin' word."

"We're not playing with you," the second cop scowls. 

"Alright, man. Alright," Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely, "sheesh. I keep quiet when people talk on the phone, like Mama taught me, okay?"

Letting out another shaky sigh of irritation, the officers exchange a glance amongst one another, knowing well enough that if they've bothered the Navarro family for no good reason, it'll result in a guaranteed suspension without pay and likely following up with getting fired. 

Then again, there's always the possibility that it could be Tony finding himself in hot water with the Navarros due to his cockiness and stupidity, and if that means having Tony out of the refugee camp and no longer able to be a nuisance, then it'll be both a best case scenario and a relief for the officers involved. Still, it's all too much to consider at once.

"Tell the supervisor," the first cop mumbles, "he needs to know what's going on."

"Will do," the other sighs, taking a seat back at his desk to grab out his notepad.

Ignoring Tony outright, the first cop moves his stool over to the telephone by the desk and sits next to it before beginning to dial the Navarro family reception line.

'By heart?' Tony's eyes flicker with interest, noticing how the officer has your family's number memorized by heart—rendering him surprised and amused at the same time. 

'So they know her,' Tony thinks to himself. 'She not a nobody. She a somebody. I got her name on the line for me. Just for me.' 

This means more to Tony than you can already know, even if all you'll ever do is show up to spit on his face and blame him for wasting your time. The satisfaction alone is everything for him.

Both officers continue to ignore Tony and avoid making any sort of eye contact with him; murmuring ushered words to one another and pressing through more numbers on the telephone as it rings.

Only mere moments after does Tony notice how tense the officer on the telephone gets by the way his muscles jerk up in response to the telephone being answered by a monotone-voiced, middle-aged man speaking out.

"Navarro residence."

The very individual answering the phone would be your father's advisor and right-hand man, Gabriel.

"Cuban Detention Center, Officer Frank speaking," the cop says politely, clearing his throat. "May we please speak to Mr. Navarro?"

There's a short pause on the other end of the line. "Do you have a request or appointment booked in advance?"

"No," Officer Frank answers quietly. "Um, ahem—this is in relation to immigration and detention. There's a gentleman here claiming he was requested by name from a potential--" Frank scowls over at Tony. "Sponsor." 

Gabriel's tone of voice grows considerably agitated. "I trust you have a good reason for wishing to bother Mr. Navarro. You will not hear it from me."

"Greatly appreciated," Officer Frank awkwardly replies as Gabriel begins to transfer the call to your father's personal telephone.

Fully aware of the telephone conversation ongoing with Gabriel, your father—Darren Navarro--is two stories up in his penthouse—still in his Versace morning robe, smoking a Cuban cigar.

His first words to Officer Frank once the line transfer is, "You better have a good reason for reaching my personal number, Frank."

"Oh yes sir, o-of course," Frank stammers. "I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to interrupt your day, but this is urgent."

"So you say so," your father is unmoved by the sudden sense of urgency. "I suppose it is coming from the immigration and refugee department. I've sponsored nobody, so what is all of this?"

Officer Frank's skin drains of color as he nervously exchanges a glance with his colleague, glumly shaking his head. "Um, sir, there was a mention of your daughter's name by a Cuban migrant."

Your father raises a brow, leaning back on his velvet chaise. Your last trip to Cuba and mentions of "Tony Montana" and "Manny Ribera" easily come to Darren's mind. 

"Interesting," Darren muses. "And what is this individual's name?"

"Tony Montana," Tony speaks up loud and clear, grinning. "And with my best friend, Manny Ribera."

"Shut the fuck up!" The second cop hisses, almost jumping out from behind his desk to hit Tony.

Darren's all very well aware Tony is in the same room and must know who he is by now, having heard everything. 

"Uh huh," your father chuckles. "I see."

"Sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," Frank scoffs, swallowing hard.

"Stop your whining," Darren rolls his eyes. "I heard the man loud and clear. This is no request for me but for my daughter then."

"The migrant claims to know Celeste Navarro personally, sir." Frank clears his throat.

"Yes, he does. That much is true," your father nods.

"May we speak to Celeste, sir?"

"No need," Darren brushes off the request, glancing towards his bedroom door. "Celeste will soon be on her way to greet both gentlemen personally.

"This man--" Frank begins, but is abruptly cut off and corrected by your father.

"Men," your father clarifies, refusing to exclude Manny. "There are two of them after all, so Celeste will see both. She knows both of them, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Darren blows out the smoke from his cigar around him, resting his cigar between his fingers as he admires the afternoon light glistening over his gold rings and jewelry. "Treat these men well. I'm aware of the reputation your detention center has and its demands. 'Gentle' is not in your vocabulary so be respectful. These are friends of the Navarro family and I expect them to be treated as such."

"Yes, sir..." Mortified, the officers stare in shock at a smirking Tony before your father hangs up on them.

~

Giving a drawn-out sigh, you roll your eyes in annoyance at the back cover of the gossip magazine you’ve been reading; already questioning why you bother with the tabloids just to entertain you.

Flipping back to the front cover of a bikini model on Miami beach, you rest your chin over your fist, wearing a flowing, pastel pink satin nightgown—laying on your stomach and dangling your feet, attempting to beat boredom.

Frank Sinatra’s “All By Myself” plays softly on your white and gold decorated record player, a compliment to the similar colors lavishly decorated over your bedroom.

Practically the size of a house’s first floor, your bedroom itself spans 1,500 square feet and is fit for a princess, covered in various shades of pink with a glimmering diamond chandelier above you.

The very king-size bed you lounge upon is adorned with a bubble-gum pink cashmere and quilt duvet and six silk encased pillows, a polar bear throw in the center of your bedroom upon the marble floors striking attention to the wall fixtures and architecture of the bedroom taking inspiration from the Palace of Versailles.

You furrow your brows in annoyance at the magazine in your hands, only to have your thought suddenly interrupted by the sound of your father knocking on your door.

You peek up in interest, brushing a curtain of your hair back. “Come in.”

“Hi, darling,” your father enters your room with a warm smile—holding a glass of iced rum in one hand and concealing something in his fist with the other. “Didn’t think I’d be giving you good news so quick, eh?”

Chuckling, your father opens his fist and lightly tosses your car keys over to you.

Reaching your arm out, you snatch the car keys mid-air—staring at your father in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami,” your father says with a laugh. “Immigration services at the Cuban refugee camp called me just earlier.”

“Huh,” you blink, rubbing your temple as your memory recollects, hitting you all at once.

“I never say goodbye either. I say you’re gonna remember these faces—my face.”

‘Tony Montana.’ Your face flushes red as you clear your throat, glancing up at your father. “They called you?”

“Mhmm,” your father nods, taking a small sip from his drink. “Quick to it, I’ll give them that. I don’t think that Tony of yours has been there for very long from the sounds of it. They wanted to reach you, actually.”

“Makes sense of course,” you slide aside your magazine, sitting up in bed. “Great…”

“What do you think?” Your father raises a brow.

“I’m not thinking of anything,” you give your head a shake.

“No? You sure you don’t owe this Tony and his friend a favor or two?”

“I don’t owe anyone anything,” you roll your eyes out of frustration. “But for Tony,” you clutch your car keys, “if he wants to see me, I’ll go see him. I’ll see him, but I don’t know what I can do for him.”

“Is this really someone worth wriggling out of months worth of paperwork and getting into the front of the line? ‘Cause I’ll let you decide that,” your father shrugs. 

Getting off of your bed, you eye your purse from across the bedroom. “I think I’ve already made my decision.”

“I’m sure you made the right one,” your father turns back on his heel.

“Is Tony waiting for me right now?” You head over to your walk-in closet.

“He is,” your father confirms, placing his hand over your doorknob to close the door behind him. “And I think you’re the only person he wants to see right now.”

~

‘Tony Montana…’ You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against your car’s headrest. ‘Again and so soon.’ With great effort, you push aside the fluttering feeling in your heart every time Tony’s name and face cross your mind; clearing your throat and putting your Armani sunglasses on.

Starting up your Mercedes-Benz 380SL Convertible and pulling out of your estate’s parking lot carefully, you focus on nothing but getting directly to immigration services—able to collect your thoughts.

Letting the warm summer breeze flow through your hair as you step on the gas, determined to know just why Tony’s got your name mixed up with the law.

You may not have taken the rugged, cocky stranger very seriously back in Cuba but you’d be lying to yourself right now if you said you weren’t a little intimidated by Tony’s timing.

‘Didn’t think my name would cross your lips so soon either… Full of surprises.’ 

Tony knows he can sit and wait in the interrogation room for an eternity to come so as long as it’s promised you’ll show up—riding off on the idea of seeing you again like a lingering high.

Driving through the streets of Miami, you tap your French tip manicure against your steering wheel patiently through every red light.

Your eyes flicker over beach-bound tourists making their way over the crosswalks, noting the impatient drivers on the other side of the intersection honking at each other and tossing cigarettes out the window; the scent of body odor and beer not far from the beach itself.

Giving your head a shake, you scrunch your nose in disgust and drive off—not far from reaching the secluded immigration center from downtown.

You arrive a little over ten minutes later, driving into the clearance section with the rest of the other drivers waiting their turn to speak with an officer at the booth and be admitted. 

Resting your arm on the windowpane of your car, you peek your head out of the window just enough for your face to be seen, and just as you expected, you’re recognized by an officer at a booth opposite from you almost instantaneously. 

‘Uh huh.’ Noticing the officer blocking the path of the upcoming car who was next in line, you slowly drive up as he gestures for you to follow.

“How is that fucking fair?!” You hear a honk and shout of irritation from the other driver, simply ignoring him and continuing to cautiously drive up.

“Blow it out your ass, buddy,” the officer rolls his eyes.

Parking your car, you glance up at the officer who only gives you a brief nod and lets you through without a single word; just one of the many perks of being the daughter of one of Miami’s most notorious businessmen.

“Alright,” you mutter under your breath as you approach the guarded parking lot, seeing another officer heading directly your way. ‘Let’s see what this is really all about.’

Taking off your sunglasses, you make eye contact with the officer who furrows his brows at you in confusion; more than likely wondering how you got in so quickly and just who you are to be taking priority over anyone else.

“And who might you be?” The officer asks smugly.

“I think you know who I am,” you reply back coyly. “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

~

As smug and prideful as he can be, Tony slouches in his seat with his arms crossed and completely relaxed as if he’s the one arranging the interrogation rather than being interrogated. 

As apparent as the officers make it seem to Tony how thoroughly pissed, exhausted, and anxious they are dealing with him, Tony reflects it with his nonchalant attitude on purpose.

“You think you’re taking some sort of vacation, Montana?” Officer Frank scowls.

 “Sure, man,” Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely. “I think my vacation is on the way.”

Ignoring the immigration officer who escorts you inside the facility as some mock bodyguard, you make your way towards the entrance of the interrogation offices where the officer gestured you to, making note of the maximum-security gates and barbed wire high walls.

Giving a small huff of annoyance and adjusting your hair, you approach a narrow hallway inside the next building and set your sunglasses on your head.

“This way, please,” the officer guiding you murmurs and politely steps in front of you.

Unphased and hardly listening, you follow the officer until you both reach an interrogation door marked “11B”.

You maintain your distance from both the officer and the door as the officer leans over and quickly knocks on the door not to ask to come in but to signal his entrance.

A wide, playful grin spreads over Tony’s face as he turns his head back to face the door—absolutely thrilled to see it about to open in front of him.

Fear simmers back into the officers the moment they spot a feminine silhouette behind the tinted glass of the door, instantly remembering now more than ever that their jobs are on the line.

Pushing open the door, the officer guiding you inside steps in first and out of your way—clearing his throat to speak out, “Miss Celeste Navarro is here, sir.”

‘Celeste Navarro…’ Seeing you before him once more, Tony’s pupils widen as a strong surge of attraction hits him—coursing through his veins.

Tony’s muscles tighten and he feels the heat of arousal trickling inside of him as he locks eyes with you, stunned and utterly admiring every inch of your figure.

Attempting to look at you with more humility than defeat or nervousness, the officers are put off by your very presence and can say or do nothing as you cross your arms; expectant and domineering before everyone else.

You’re the only spot of color in the otherwise dull room filled with grey uniforms and sweaty men; dressed in an Armani, pastel pink, cropped tweed blazer, a matching mini skirt, a white chiffon Calvin Klein blouse with a bow at your collar and four-inch glossy nude pumps. 

“There she is, she’s the one,” Tony smirks at you—breaking the momentary silence in the room.

“Ahem,” Officer Frank clears his throat, beginning to sit upright in his seat. “You know this man, miss?”

“Do I?” You raise a brow, unamused. “It feels like I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Yes, baby,” Tony mutters to himself inaudibly. ‘Come to me. You’re here now.’

“Miss Navarro,” the other officer begins to speak up awkwardly, “apologies if this is an intrusive question however this man claims to know you and—”

”And she’s my fiancée, as I was telling you. Okay, man?” Tony interrupts, rolling his eyes. “Can I have some privacy with my fiancée, man?”

‘Fiancee? What the hell is he talking about?’ Struck into shock by Tony’s words, you hold your posture and expression, but you know where Tony’s coming from and just why he’s deciding to play this game with you now.

“Yes, so what?” You snap back, noticing the playful twinkle in Tony’s eyes. “It’s true, he is my fiancée.”

‘Tony… I hope you know what you’re doing. I swear… Now is not the time to put on a show.’ 

The officers stare at each other in utter discomfort, remaining silent. 

“But I don’t recall that being anyone’s business except mine,” you narrow your eyes at them, taking a step forward to Tony.

Tony takes your soft hand in his, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand softly. “See?”

“Well,” Officer Frank swallows hard, “if that’s the case—”

Your eyes snap open in shock as Tony leans up in his seat, suddenly cupping both of your cheeks and immediately pulling you into a crushing, deep kiss.

‘Oh!’ Your lips collide over his and your eyes flutter shut in response, feeling the warmth of his tongue teasing the tip of yours in loving passion without a care—ensnared in the moment of having you as his fiancée with no intentions of letting go. 

[koipepo]

im making a thramsay playlist and id love to hear your suggestions!! your art is lovely and super inspiring 💞 ive been listening a lot to sick by chelsea wolfe and slowbleed by alison's halo, it feels 100% like theon's perspective to me. ava adore by the smashing pumpkins and closer by nine inch nails are ramsay's (i feel like he'd be a complete trent reznor fanboy in a modern setting lmao)

Ramsay being fan of NIN is so apt, i definitely agree and Closer is such thramsay song it's ridiculous. Tbh a lot of NIN songs have atmosphere tones appropriate for thramsay, so it's easy pick. I havent listened to the other songs you mentioned tho!

I love more non-vocal eletrical disquieting music for thramsay, especially from LORN (ohhh how do i fuckin love LORN 🫠) and Blanck Mass.

Here's my messy ass thramsay playlist if you're interested.

If i could pick three top songs from it, they would be:

Weigh Me Down by LORN: for the general vibe and dark lyrics that really encapsulates Theon's POV in thramsay, it hints of resentment brewing but also a sense of giving up to the torture inflicted.

Run by IAMTHEKIDYOUKNOWWHATIMEAN: this one is weird.. disquietingly imbalanced tune that sounds ridiculous at first but now i can't stop listening to it. Perfectly describes the absurdity and horror in thramsay that slowly melts into uneasy familiar tune. Hotline Miami has amazing ost but Run is the one i consistently listen to.

Rhesus Negative by Blanck Mass: this one feels like hunting, hunting in state of frenzy and bloodlust. This one is really good for imagining chase scene! My Outlast AU thramsay owes this song a lot (and also Blanck Mass in gen)

[jegulusofwesper]

check on your mclaren girlies we’ve been crying since lando became race leader

[saintsir4n]

SECOND CHANCE I

where brian challenges carson to race, but more than just respect is at stake. (Originally supposed to be an alt ending but now it’s a 2 fast 2 furious subplot)

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DEATH, VIOLENCE AND MORE

—

“No," Carson backed away from the blonde, who pulled away from his friend Roman.

“Sonny C’mon.”

She snapped, “Don’t call me that. You know what you’ve done. 2 years might’ve gone by but there isn’t a day that I don’t think about what happened. I mean — shit. Jesse’s dead. Half of my family… I don’t even know where they are right now. I had to leave KeKe so she didn’t get caught, Mia was fuckin’ broken by it. I raced outta there so they didn’t get questioned by your friends on the force.”

Her heart clenched when she saw his eyes softening. For months she has avoided him, but she wouldn’t be able to do it for long. Everyone in Miami Beach knew her, well, they knew her by her street name 'Barbie', she won every race she entered, and Suki almost always came second. She lived with the eccentric girl, who reminded her so much of Keelie. Tej was an older brother figure who warned her whenever Brian came about.

“You knew back then I quit," Brian tried, eyes darting from her face to her body.

So much about her had changed, no beaming smile, and there was no pink in sight apart from her car. Her hair was now in long flowing braids and she adorned all black. It suited her but he couldn't help but miss how old style.

“The damage was done. Now you and your old friend are helpin’ the cops out, right?” Her eyes drifted to the attractive dark-skinned man who had been checking her out. He was beautiful in her opinion, but Brian's looks still had her stumbling for words. His hair was shorter, and he seemed more confident, “This is why I told Suki I didn’t wanna see you," she stressed.

She wanted to be anywhere else but near him, cars were all around but most people were too distracted with the incoming race, which she no longer wanted to take part in.

“We run the same circles," Brian huffed, taking a step closer, but she took one back sending shards to his heart.

2 years and he still loved her.

“Oh cut the bullshit. This is a Job for you. But this -- this is my life, Brian.”

“I get it.”

“No, you don’t," Carson scoffed, folding her arms, and looking him up and down. “Besides why are you even talkin' to me? I saw you with that Latin chick.”

He rose a brow, and a grin threatened to break out on his face, “Did you?”

He glanced back at a chuckling Roman, who was hit by a newly arrived Suki.

“Don’t give me that look," Carson groaned, annoyed that he thought she was mad about it.

She was but he didn't need to know.

“What look?" Brian's teasing tone drove her crazy.

She glared, “Like I’m jealous or somethin'.”

“You sound it!" they heard Roman yell, gaining their attention.

Brian gestured for him to stop, “Not now Rome.”

Roman rasied his hands defensively after Carson flipped him off.

“Fuck the both of you," Carson snapped, rapidly shaking her head.

Roman shouted, “What did I do?!”

Suki rolled her eyes at the man before Tej motioned her away.

Brian sighed, “Sonny listen.”

“Stop callin' me that,” Emotions clung to her stern tone. She couldn't bear to see the guy who broke her heart, it was too much, “I don’t want to listen to anythin’ you’ve gotta say. Every time I believed you — everything you said to me was a fuckin’ lie. I bet you were laughin’ at me, probably thinkin' how dumb can she be?”

“I never laughed at you," Brian frowned as she hugged herself.

He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in a tight embrace, lay a kiss on her lips, and take her back to the houseboat he lived in, but she couldn't stomach the thought let alone, the sight of him.

“Even your name was a lie," she whispered to herself, averting glossy eyes, “Just stay away from me," she pleaded, “You know what I used to think? That when I was with you, everythin' was okay. That I felt safe. But now I realise everythin’ you touch turns to shit. So if you don’t mind, move away from my car, or I’ll run you over with it and won’t think twice.”

Brian bowed his head when she walked away and got in her car, ignoring Tej and Suki who thought she would be racing tonight.

Roman came over and patted his shoulders, “How are you gonna deal with Bilkins and Verone whilst tryna get back with her fine ass?”

Brian's head snapped up and shrugged him off, “Watch it."

“It’s not my fault you fucked up. I mean, you could’ve had it all man. Carson's fine, she can drive and everythin’, I’m surprised you could handle all of that,” Roman ceased his teasing when he saw the glare on the blonde's face. “Damn, haven't seen you this loved up since high school. What is she the one or somethin'?”

“I think she is,” Brian said without hesitation, “But you’re gonna help me fix all of this shit.”

“I’m already doin’ that homie.”

a/n:

i can just imagine this happening, brian loves sonny and he wouldn't flirt with monica. roman would love carson and she in time would love him but not now.

[garbinge]

Something Borrowed

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Day 10 from these April Prompts: “Returning something borrowed long ago”

Summary: A familiar face surprises you along with all the emotions that come with seeing him. 

Warnings: Angst. All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. 

Word Count: 4.7k words

Narcos Taglist: @drabbles-mc  @justreblogginfics @narcolini​

Javi questioned himself a multitude of times. First, when he overheard your parents talking about you at the party his father dragged him to, back home. He heard them mention New York and he wasn’t shocked, you had always wanted to get out of Laredo. The second time he found himself questioning his judgment was when he started to sign up for work in New York; conferences, investigations, you name it, if it was in New York, Javi’s name was on the list. When he accepted the invitation to the DEA National Security Press Conference, that was another key moment of him debating his choices. He wasn’t alone in that either. Many of his co-workers had questioned his desire to go to New York City for a conference, it was truthfully the least Javi thing to do, not to mention people usually begged to be switched off of them. It was a lot of paperwork, a lot of media, a lot of questions, likely some protesting, both sides of it, overall it just wasn’t something people looked forward to. Javi had some excuse worked up though, something along the lines of needing a break and not wanting to waste his vacation days. 

Steve saw through it, the moment he got back to the DEA HQ and assignments were debriefed he knew there was something else Javi was up to. 

“The Big Apple, huh?” Steve caught up to Javi with a light jog as they left the debriefing room. 

“Bullshit assignment, gives me some time off while still getting paid.” Javi mumbled the practically memorized excuse. 

“They put me back in Miami. But maybe I’ll make a request for a transfer, never been to the five boroughs.” Steve treaded carefully trying to read Javi’s reactions. 

Javi’s head practically broke to look at Steve, “I’d think you’d wanna stay in Miami, ain’t that where Connie and Olivia are?” 

“Yea, but like you said its a bullshit assignment. They could come with. Hey, you know,” Steve pointed his finger and bounced his hand up in down with a nod, “we could all stay in the same hotel, grab dinners, explore the city, think that’d be fun.”

Javi began to trip on his words, not sure how he wanted to respond. 

“I’m fuckin’ with you, Jav.” Steve’s smile was ear to ear. “You goin’ to see her?” 

Steve wasn’t in the complete know about you but he knew a few things from some conversations on late nights in the field back in Columbia. He knew you were Javi’s last serious girlfriend, and assumed probably his first as well. He also knew that you broke his heart, which was impossible for Steve to wrap his mind around for a bit, with how Javi swooned his way around women, it was hard to imagine him heartbroken but eventually he realized that was probably why he swooned his way around so many women. If there was one thing Steve knew for sure about you though, it was that Javi was still in love with you. Despite his jokes and incessant way of talking about what the two of you had, he put you on a pedestal, and that was all Steve needed to know he was still down bad for you. 

Javi stopped walking now and locked eyes with Steve, he said nothing, just stared at him. 

“You coulda just booked a flight yourself, avoided all the paperwork and probably every other shitty thing that comes with these press things.” Steve joked. 

“I don’t even know if I’m gonna see her.” Javi picked up his pace again, not wanting to get into this with Steve. 

By the time Steve caught up to Javi they were at the end of the hallway where they would part ways. Steve wasn’t going to push Javi’s buttons anymore, he knew he already had his fair share. 

“Well, whatever happens, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Steve’s grin grew. 

“So come back married with a kid?” Javi’s face was still neutral. 

The joke let Steve know Javi wasn’t going to hold the teasing against him so he nodded and patted his back. “Connie’s always talkin’ about making more friends with kids, you’d be doin’ me a favor.”

Javi smiled at Steve’s sentence and let out a chuckle before putting a cigarette in his mouth. “See ya, Murph.” 

_________

Javi’s leg bounced up and down, his eyes were locked on the clock in the large auditorium. He was in the crowd today rather than on the panel stage. Although he counted his blessings for that, time passed a lot slower when you had to listen to people talk about boring shit all day. The minute the speaker delivered their closing line and dismissed the crowd, Javi was up and moving swiftly. His brain was on autopilot as he moved through the large mass of people, his body slammed into the auditorium doors as he pushed them wide open, keeping his same pace as he reached the second set of doors that would put him out on the street. 

He pushed his way through the even larger crowd outside, the protesters were loud and fearless. The other lucky part of not being on the panel today meant no one would recognize him, he could move through the people without a second thought. 

His feet kept moving, his fingers habitually grabbing a cigarette from the carton in his pocket but he refused to light it. Before he could really realize what he was doing, where he was going, he was standing in front of the bar you worked at. It was full of suits, it was a more upscale place, not a dive bar in the least. The full front of the building was made of glass, only a few decals of the bar logo in the way of fully seeing it but that didn’t matter. Javi clocked you from the moment he looked in. Through the large happy hour crowd of people that not only filled the restaurant but the bar too. You were head in the game, moving from one side of the bar to the other in seconds, shaking drinks, stirring others, filling up drafts of beer all while keying in orders to the computer. 

Javi made his way inside, he nodded off the hostess and pointed to the bar. He was quick to take a seat at one of the bar height tables, a waitress coming by within moments to take his order of whiskey neat. He was still unsure if he was going to say anything to you, he felt speechless when he saw you, it had been years since the last time you two shared the same space let alone saw each other. 

Javi downed the whiskey the moment it was delivered to his table, the liquid courage he needed to make his way up to the bar. He didn’t rush or push through the crowd of people, in fact there was a moment where he paused in the midst of everyone when he heard your voice call out to one of the other bartenders. There was a second of doubt that went through his head, the thought to turn around but but before he knew it, his arms were resting against the counter, empty glass bouncing up and down in his hand. 

You threw the towel over your shoulder and scooped ice into the shaker right in front of Javi. His presence was still unknown to you, your mind was usually one track as you worked. It was one of your favorite things about being a bartender here, there was no room to think, to let your mind take over, you were focused on one task and jumping to the next in seconds. When you did have a second to think, it was generally spent on other people’s problems. 

Your eyes glanced up at the bar, a habit you had to keep everyone served and happy. The empty glass that was bouncing slightly up and down caught your attention immediately.

“Whiskey?” You asked, still not making eye contact with him as you reached to grab the glass from his hands.  

“Neat.” 

His voice made you stop dead. Every thought you had pushed away, left no room for over the last few years rushed to your brain. It was like his voice released a flood of emotions and things you haven’t felt in years. 

You glanced up, his eyes caught yours immediately. He looked different and exactly the same simultaneously. His brown eyes were heavy on you and his stare was deep, he looked good, looked older, but you felt like you were both kids again staring at each other in the backseat of your friends car to go do something stupid. His hair was a bit longer, especially in the back, there were tufts of hair that you couldn’t help thinking about pulling in bed. He had a fully-grown mustache, which was new to you. The last time you saw him it was shorter, you remember that clearly because you’d tease him about it pricking you every time he kissed you. 

“Hey.” His voice was deep and raspy. 

“I’m taking my 15!” You called out immediately, not caring to hear what anyone’s response would be. Your hand pointed towards the back exit sign as you nodded towards it. Javi’s head shook in agreeance and walked over to the exit first, making his way into the side alley. 

You joined him shortly after, he was perched up against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground until you opened the door. Once you walked out he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You stood next to him, only difference being you weren’t relaxed enough to lean against the wall like him. Reaching to your back pocket you pulled out a carton of cigarettes, bringing the box to your mouth and taking one with your mouth. You offered over the carton to him and he simply shook his head while lifting his hand in denial. 

“I quit.” 

Your head snapped towards him at that. In all your years of knowing him he smoked, you never knew him not to. 

“It’s been a week.” He responded to your reaction. 

You let out a laugh, you didn’t mean to but it just came out. Of course it was only a week of him not smoking. Putting your cigarette back in the box, you leaned back against the wall. His face frowned at your action. 

“I’m not gonna be a nicotine tease.” You shrugged looking up at him as he smirked. 

There was silence, the only noise being the busy New York streets and the sound of your heart pumping fast in your ears. 

“What the are you doin’ here, Jav?” 

“I got sent up here for a conference. I heard your parents mention you were here in New York, figured I’d try my luck.” 

You nodded, folding your arms across your chest. 

“You seem,” you searched for the right word but were coming up short. 

“Yea,” He agreed with you even though you didn’t actually say anything. 

“I don’t know what to do or say here, Javi.” Your head shook. 

“Me either.” His shoulders raised and fell in a shrug. 

“Look, I got,” your arm raised to get a look at your watch, “I got 7 more minutes until I have to go back to the craziness inside. I don’t know what the fuck to say but I do know 7 minutes isn’t going to be long enough to figure it out and say it, so why don’t we do this.” You kicked off the wall and faced him. “What’s your night lookin’ like?” 

“Wide open.” He was staring at you again with that broody face. 

“I get off at 9, I can set you up at a table, send over food, give you a kids menu so you can do the mazes and crossword puzzles to pass the time.” You gave a half smile at that before continuing, “or you can explore the city and meet me here at 9, up to you.” 

“Crayons too.” Javi said only seconds after you finished speaking. “I want the menu and crayons.” 

You let out a chuckle and made your way to the door to open it for him, waving your hand to shuffle him back inside. 

The hours passed by quick for you, you were busy but for the first time in a long time, you let your mind go everywhere it needed to as you worked. Knowing you were going to have to talk with Javi and say things that you had buried deep down was intimidating and despite your hesitancy to let yourself feel things lately, you weren’t going to go into it with nothing prepared. 

On the other side, time was probably moving slow for Javi. He wasn’t in the thick of things, he had eaten, had another drink, and gotten to the back side of the kids menu as the time passed for him. He was staring at the tic tac toe board when you approached the table, bag thrown over your shoulder and sweatshirt unzipped but covering your arms. You picked up a crayon and placed an O in one of the open spots since he had already filled some in. He looked up at you and quickly looked back down to fill another space with an X. It ultimately put you both at a road block, no matter where either of you put the next letter it’d result in you both losing. 

“No fun playing by yourself.” You placed the crayon down on the table and stared at him. 

“It’s actually kind of challenging playing solo.” 

It was small talk but it stuck with you. The fact that he had clearly done this before, it made you realize he was lonely. You weren’t completely in the dark about where Javi was all these years. He had told you about the opportunity in Colombia shortly before everything fell apart between you two and even though you assumed he’d still go, you had it confirmed by his father a few months later. 

You remembered that day so clearly, you had heard on the news about The Palace of Justice seize in Colombia. You didn’t know the logistics of where Javi was going to be, that the DEA would be set up at the embassy, in your head it was likely Javi was at the Supreme Court. You were out of breath and you were holding back tears as you pounded on the front door. To put it frankly, you were a wreck. Chucho answered the door seemingly quite annoyed but immediately softened when he saw you. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, I just, I saw the news the shootout in Colombia, I don’t even know if Javi’s there but they’re saying hundreds of government officials are dead and if Javi did go, I’m not sure if they’d be classifying him as an agent or a government official and–”

Chucho cut you off and placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s fine. I just got off the phone with him like an hour ago. He works at the embassy, was nowhere near the Palace.” He spoke monotone but his words soothed you in a way you didn’t believe was possible.

That felt like a lifetime ago, and yet seeing Javi stand tall next you as you walked the city streets back to your apartment, made all of that come crashing back down on you along with a million other emotions and thoughts. 

“I never said sorry,” You broke the silence, “when everything happened.” You added like he needed the clarification. 

“You don’t–” Javi started to talk but you cut him off. 

“No, I do.” Your arms crossed as a way to keep yourself warm from the breeze. 

“Thanks.” Javi answered knowing arguing with you wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “I’m sorry too, for just leaving.” 

“I don’t think I really gave you any other choice.” You were right, you didn’t. “You’re different now, Jav.” Your voice changed, it was now a whisper almost like it was hard for you to admit. 

“Different? How?” He curiously asked. 

“You seem,” The gears in your mind turned to search for the right word to describe it. The Javi you knew was soft, he was in love, he was sweet. The Javi in front of you still had some of those traits, selfishly you hoped he saved them for you, but you could see the new traits overpowering them. He was cold, standoffish, short, you could tell he’d seen some things, you could also tell that he hadn’t settled down despite him practically begging you to after he dropped the news that he accepted a job in Colombia. 

“Jaded.” You finished your thought. 

There was a good amount of time where you felt Javi just taking in what you said, sitting with the sentence, you didn’t mean to offend him or cause him to shut down. 

“We could’ve been good, you know.” His sentence startled you with how long he was silent. 

“We were kids.” You disagreed with that statement, you wished you could have been good, that you could have committed to a life at that age but you couldn’t. Being older, maybe you regret that now seeing what life was, maybe it would have been more enjoyable with Javi by your side but it was too late to go back. 

“Still are.” Javi held up the folded up children's menu he took with him for some reason. 

You let out a chuckle and grabbed his arm and leaned into him as you strolled. It felt nice, one of those ‘feels like no time has passed at all’ moments. 

“You seem lonely.” Again, you weren’t trying to be mean or pour salt in a wound, it was just the truth. 

Javi nodded, his hands in his pockets as you still clung to his arm. He’d be lying if he said he was uncomfortable, despite the awkwardness of the situation, you leaning into him brought him a feeling of security. 

“You do too.” His face was sad when he said it. It was almost ironic. How this conversation years ago, with the same words would have been pointed and petty and now they were sad and caring. 

“This is me.” You didn’t mean to wrap up that part of the conversation but you had arrived in front of your place. 

“It was good to see you.” Javi wasn’t going to push for more conversation, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to get out of this, but it was true, it was good to see you. 

“You wanna come up?” If Javi wasn’t going to push, you were. 

“I don’t wanna intrude.” His Texan accent jumped out there for a second and it made you melt, thinking of home tended to do that to you. 

“You get the closure you wanted?” Your question was blunt, but honest because you knew that you hadn’t. 

He didn’t answer the question with words, he just let his head fall and follow you up the stairs. 

As you entered into your apartment, walking into the space you picked up some laundry that was tossed along the floor and threw it into your hamper. “Sorry for the mess, I don’t usually have company.” You threw your head over your shoulder to look at him, “I’m pretty lonely.” You teased him slightly at what he had just said to you. It earned a laugh out of him as he shook his head, both of you making your way to the living room. There was a set of blankets and pillows on the couch, likely where you’d fall asleep every night by the looks of the indent in the couch and the multiple empty wine glasses on the coffee table. 

“I know it looks like a sad and pathetic life, and sometimes it is,” your eyebrows raised as you joked, “but it’s also pretty cool, lots to do in the city, I hang with my friends from the bar a lot, but I like my little space too.” 

“It’s nice, it’s very you.” Javi looked around and took in all the art on the walls, the photos of your family that he recognized immediately and others of whom he assumed to be friends from your time in the city. 

“You want a drink?” 

“Please.” His response was quick as he sat down on the couch. 

You disappeared to what Javi assumed was the kitchen for a few moments allowing him to take in everything around him. Music had started playing but it was muffled so you probably loaded a record into the player that was in another room, but it was nice. Javi appreciated your efforts to make things feel normal. 

“I didn’t have whiskey.” Your voice interrupted his staring at your bookcase. Balancing two glasses of red wine and the bottle you slowly walked into the living room. 

“You know I’ll drink anything.” He smiled and took one glass from your grip. 

“So this–, I don’t want this to be awkward.” After taking a sip and placing your glass on the coffee table, you sat down next to him, there was something in your hand and Javi clocked it immediately. “But I borrowed this for way too long.” 

You extended your hand out to hand him the black velvet box that he gave you on the last day of your relationship. Javi hesitated for a minute but then took the black box and opened it. The engagement ring was just as shiny as the day he bought it, the gold band was polished and the diamond was glistening. 

“I went to get it cleaned a few times.” You stared at him looking down at the ring. It was giving you deja-vu. This was exactly how it went down all those years ago, both of you sitting on the couch, but that time you were staring at the ring. Javi told you to hold onto it, think on it, he wanted you to go to Colombia with him as his wife but he knew it was a lot to ask. He wanted to give you a moment to take it all in, he thought you’d say yes but instead you called him, you told him you never wanted to speak to him again, you were done, you both were in two different places in life and that it was never going to work. That was the gist of it, all of it coming back to haunt you at this moment. 

“Can I ask you something?” Javi closed the box and turned to look at you, his brows frowning together. “Why’d you say no?” 

You opened your mouth to speak and Javi shook his head, “and please don’t just repeat what you told me then, I’ve heard those words on repeat for years.” 

Fuck. That hurt you. 

“I wasn’t. I don’t think I meant half the shit I said anyways, I just was pushing you away.” You took a deep breath. “I think I was scared. You had your life together, Jav. You were going to work with the fuckin’ DEA, you were gonna catch Pablo Escobar. I was barely graduated from community college, working parttime as a goddamn cashier at Kohls. It’s stupid now thinking about it but I felt like saying yes to you, meant saying no to myself.” You leaned back on the couch.

“You would’ve hated Bogota.” Javi said, leaning back on the couch extending his arm out to play with your hair that was spread out over the back of the cushion. “I would’ve hated you being there.” He sighed. “It was easy to ask you to follow me to Colombia, be my wife, but it would’ve been hard for you to be that. For me to be a husband.” His head shook as the memories of Colombia flooded into his brain, the idea of going through all of that with the added worry of your safety seemed impossible. He saw Steve battle with that everyday, he also saw the fallout of what Colombia did to them. “My partner, he’s married. I saw how it worked for him. How it didn’t work sometimes, either.” 

You nodded at that, “Did your dad tell you about when I came over there?” 

Javier shook his head and frowned. “The Palace Siege. I saw it on the news. It was probably, what? Two months after you left. I didn’t know where you’d be, I thought you were there. I ran to your house to ask your dad if you were dead.” After a big sigh you continued speaking, “After that, I stopped watching the news, I couldn’t do it.” 

The room filled with heaviness, these weren’t easy topics to talk about and you two were discussing them like they were nothing. 

“I love you.” 

Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the emotion but it just came out. Regardless of why, it was the truth. You never stopped loving Javi. 

His head practically snapped to look at you when the words left your mouth. His face was full of shock, it made you want to back track, rewind a few seconds, but then you felt it. His lips were soft and eager against yours, you pulled him against you so that now you were horizontal on the couch with him on top of you. As your lips intertwined and his hands explored each other’s bodies, learning them all over again, Javi pulled away a few centimeters, his lips still barely touching yours as he spoke. “I love you, too.”

You leaned forward to kiss him again, not wanting to spend another minute any further from him but suddenly you felt yourself getting worked up, you started to tear up and before you knew it a sob left your mouth. Javi was quick to move off you and pull you back up to vertical, his hands were cupping your face looking for something on your face to explain what was happening. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, I’m sorry.” He brought you into his embrace. You didn’t say anything else, just collapsed into his hug and sobbed against him as he rubbed his arms up and down your back. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally spoke through your sobs. “I just missed you so much, I think I turned my brain off to it all and it’s kind of all just coming to me now.” 

“I’m here, cariño, I’m here.” Those words were spoken at a murmur, but is mouth was next to your ear so you heard them loud and clear. 

“God, what the fuck happened to us.” You shook your head as he pulled your face in front of him with his hands still framed around it. 

“A lot of fuckin’ shit.” His eyebrows rasied and his eyes jumped back and forth on your eyes.  You let out a laugh at that followed by a sniffle due to the crying. 

The two of you talked on the couch for another hour before Javi stood up to leave. It was well into early morning hours now and he still had conferences to attend in the morning.

“I’m gonna be in New York for another week, at least. Maybe I can take you out?” You two were standing at the door, you felt your face a little swollen from crying, Javi’s eyes were low from exhaustion, you two looked like you’d been through the wringer but the question made you feel like the happiest person on earth. 

“Yea, I’d like that.” And your answer made Javi feel the same. “Oh!” You turned and lightly jogged over to the coffee table to grab the engagement ring box off the table and bring it back to the door where Javi was standing on the other side, hand on the door handle. “Returning what I borrowed.” You smiled and extended it out for him to grab. 

His gaze looked down at it and back up to your eyes, his eyebrows raised and that Javier smile grew on his face. “Keep it. I have a feeling one day you’ll want it again.” 

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 35: Best friends day out

You’re finally done drying your hair & add a little makeup just to brighten up your face a bit & spray some of your favorite perfume. Heading downstairs towards the living room you noticed how oddly quiet it is for a house full of guys only to be met with gareth relaxing on the sofa watching Miami vice he notices you & sits up “hey goober the others went out shopping for god knows what you know how Eddie gets when he wants something so I figured I’d stay behind maybe we could have a best buds day beings it’s been awhile since we hung out just us two figured we could grab a bite & hit the record store or something” you smile and plop on the sofa next to him “sounds good fluff & stuff” you giggle & toss him your car keys & you barely let anyone drive your baby it’s a 1961 Chevy bel air not as spiffy as the one you all had for prom but still you cherish it beings it was your moms car putting lots of love & care into it replacing parts with Eddie’s help & she just got a new paint job as a gift from your love he knows how much you love light purple so he went ahead & had jimmy paint it all for you. “Really?! I can drive Paula?! Sweet!!” You laugh and you both take off to the car “man this is so fuckin cool jame!” He starts up the engine & the radio pops on you dig through your cassettes & pull out Billy Squire & show it to him “oh fuck yeah pop it in!” “Alright this is gonna be the best day ever!” My kinda lover comes on & you & gareth are singing & using your bottle of cola as a microphone laughing having a ball “oh I have an idea gare bear watch this” you flip the switch to drop the top and his eyes bulge from his head “no fuckin way this is so bad ass!” You both have the wind in your hair & not a care in the world your glad you got to spend time with gareth you both haven’t had fun like this since middle school. He pulls into the parking lot & you notice he took you to your old fave spot his parents would take you guys here before the end of the camping trips before your parents would pick you up. An old 50’s style malt shop with the best milkshakes & burgers Indiana had to offer waitresses on roller skates 🛼 glide up to your car with a note pad & pen “welcome to Marybeth’s malt shop my name is Dolores I’ll be your server what can I get for y’all this fine afternoon?” She says with a megawatt smile teal dress white apron pink skates blonde hair in a high ponytail chewing gum gareth knows me well enough to where he knows what I always get so he orders for us both “yes can we get 2 bacon cheeseburgers an order of cheese fries & 2 black cows” (old school drink gross but very popular it’s cola & ice cream like a root beer float) “sure hun anything else for you & your lovely lady?” “Oh we’re just best friends but that’s all thanks” she winks at gareth “I’ll be right out with your drinks” she skates off. You start laughing hysterically “WHAT?!” He’s confused as to why you think something is so funny “she was totally checking you out man as soon as you said we’re friends her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree” you start laughing again “bullshit she’s just being nice it’s her job!” You try to calm you laughing for a minute “okay we’ll see about that” he turns to you “what does that mean?” “Ohh you’ll see” she comes skating back with your drinks “here you both go here’s some straws is there anything else I can get you both?” You look at gareth and smirk “actually Dolores my friend here has an extra ticket to guns & roses & needs a date & you’re so beautiful maybe you two can go together hed need your number though” his face is red he looks like he wants to kill you “really?! Yes I’d love that!” She scribbles down her number and hands it to gareth and skates back off into the restaurant “how the fuck & I don’t have an extra ticket to shit Jamie what the hell?!” You pull out an envelope & pass it to him “this was supposed to be a part of your graduation gift but I can see you need it now more then later” he rips it open to pull out two front row center seats to guns & roses & flies across the gears to engulf you into a hug.

You both eat your lunch talking of ideas of what to look for in the record store. “I still can’t believe this shit what a day & it’s only the damn afternoon not only did I get a date but I have tickets to the hottest concert in Hawkins this month thanks to you jame thanks for hanging with me today” he nudges into your shoulder you chuckle “no problem fluff & stuff but let’s hurry I have to get something for Eddie at the record store as part of his graduation gift OH! Before I forget I wanna throw a graduation party for Eddie & hellfire but I want to surprise him you think you guys could help me out?” “You don’t have to tell me twice I’m here for whatever ya need”. Pulling into a parking spot you both bolt into the record store grabbing the new Iron Maiden album for Eddie knowing he’s been wanting it for quite some time. Gareth finding all he was looking for “so what else did you get him for graduation?” You smirk at him “well… I was gonna keep this a complete secret but since I know you’re good at not spilling the beans I’ll tell you since it involves us all.. so I have an account from when mom passed I haven’t touched a red cent at all I have it for future decisions but I wanted to splurge a little so I went ahead & got us all tickets to fly out to Detroit for a few days not only to go on a trip but two concerts I got us all tickets to see Kiss & 6 days after that we go see… METALLICA!!” His eyes bug out of his head “I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!” He’s swinging you around the store almost taking out a whole display you’re cracking up. “I love ya too gare bear but remember secret!” He nods like a mad man “my lips are sealed promise.. oh man this is gonna be so fucking cool!!” You both head to check out it’s almost dinner time you’ll have to head back to start cooking sundown isn’t too far away. Hopping in the car you & gareth had a ball & have to try and make time for all your friends from now on.

[onboardsorasora]

I just like the fic idea of this whole Daniel and josh as a PR relationship that turns into something real. WAG Daniel is one of my favourite Daniels. He’s thrive as Josh’s wag.

Do you mean something like this? I hope its what you're looking for? (I also haven't reread/edited😬)

Daniel tugged at his beanie, it was freezing even inside the car. 

“He really couldn’t have let Tua have that last game? We could have been playing in Miami again.” Daniel grumbled, his favourite refrain since realizing that the Bills getting the number 3 seeding and home field advantage had meant that they’d be back up north for the rest of the playoffs.

“Miami is having a cold front right now– you’d still be cold DR.” Blake pointed out, barely looking up from his phone. The SUV rolled forward slowly, pulling to a stop by one of the more private entrances to the stadium. There was a crowd of people, hoping and praying for a quick peek at Taylor no doubt.

“Yeah but a Miami cold front is still like….not snow.” The door opened and Daniel walked confidently behind their security team, waving and smiling at a few of those that apparently came to see him. He signed a few caps and took a few pictures before trekking into the stadium.

The biting feeling subsided as they went further into the comfortable set of tunnels at Highmark Stadium. Daniel grinned and greeted all of the staff that greeted him, that had become familiar to him since preseason when he had his brace and needed a change of pace. Josh had invited him to stay for a week during training camp. He hadn’t expected the warm welcome from the team (he thought himself a distraction, truly wanting to sit somewhere quiet and observe). They’d taken him in like family, Steffon’s girlfriend– Tae – had taken him to lunch. 

They hadn’t been together then, but that had changed quickly. Their regular facetimes and phonecalls made them comfortable with each other. Being in close quarters had made them aware of each other. It kind of just… happened. 

“Do you wanna go to the box first or the locker room?” Blake asked, pulling Daniel from his thoughts. 

“It’ll probably be faster if we swing by the locker room now. Catch them before Brady starts going over stuff.” Daniel pulled at his Bills Mafia scarf, rolling it around his forearm. They took a left and walked down a few more corridors before stepping into the home team hallway. They stepped into the noisy room, watching as the group of burly men roughoused and teased. One of the linemen noticed him first, pulling Daniel into a quick hug.

“Dammit, we’re late. No ones naked anymore!” Daniel complained loudly, laughing and dodging attempts to pull him into the middle of the chaos. 

Josh walked across the room, his half done up pads jutting off of him on all sides. His mouthguard stuck out through his teeth as he smiled.

“Hey you.” Josh pulled him into a hug, crowding Daniel’s smaller frame with his bigger one. He flipped off the guys when they wolf whistled. 

“Hey yourself. Fuckin full send out there, yeah?” Daniel smiled widely when Josh’s eyes lit up. He particularly loved it when Daniel told him good luck the same way he’d tell another driver. 

“No half sends.” Josh parroted back. Daniel leaned up onto his toes and pecked him on the lips before backing out of his arms. He left the room with a wave to the rest of the team and a swat on his ass.

“You think they have red bull? Or is that like a sponsorship thing?” Daniel mumbled to Blake as they walked towards the family box.

[p3ndeja6]

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summary: Peter always known you had a wide variety of music, but only heard the soft music. Until one day he heard music he never thought you’d listen to

Content tags: fluff, light swearing, implied violence, implied sexual acts, slight teasing

tasm!Peter Parker xgn!reader

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(real ones know these songs)

——————————————————————————-

Peter was out patrolling early morning, and you were home wondering what to do to kill time. you were currently listening to music, the soft indie music. You were vibing to them until you kept playing the other playlists in your library that were collecting dust

Kept skipping playlists until you stopped at one playlist you didn’t think you’d ever come back to. Something in you sparked up.

it got you up on your feet and straight to the speaker to connect.

beep!

connected

“ignore the hate, ignore the fake, ignore the funny shit, cause if * violate, we got hunnid clips”

you’ve always been a fan of this music but things change, eventually you came back to the music you swore you’d never listen to again

you were singing and shouting, and dancing to the music

all the hype got you cleaning yours and Peter’s shared bedroom

“These bitches love sosa! O end or no end!”

the music really helped you stay on task with the house hold chores

“just got some top from a stripper bitch, she from Kankakee”

at this point you now drifted to the kitchen to clean all while the music still played out

“I’m out here in Miami! Looking for the hoochie daddy’s!”

while the commotion was going on, you heard the keys jingle and you quickly went to the room to turn off the music before peter could fully hear the music and the lyrics.

He opened the door and you stood there out of breath and smiling

He gave you a confused smile

“why are you out of breath?” He laughed

“oh um.. I’ve been cleaning! you know me”

he laughed and brushed off the odd event

you love Peter really, but him knowing you like rap music kind of cringes you, since you both made fun of it often. So him knowing you like it too, he’ll tease you.

the next day

Peter left for work and you again were left at home on your day off

you turned on the speaker, and played your current favorite playlist, and got to cleaning

“Triple homicide, put me in a chair, yeah!”

and this is how you cleaning

bathroom, “she wanna go viral! Keep fuckin’ for hours! That pussy got power! That pussy got power!”

bedroom, “riding through New York, finna go shoot up New Jersey!…. We gon come and blow New Jersey up”

living room, “ I gotta * that fuck me so great! Whenever he wanna eat it, I just put it in his face!”

while singing, you were trying to remember why you stopped listening to this music.

it was character development in all honesty

you were so into the cleaning you didn’t hear the door open.

“Know a little freak in Hollywood, sucks on dick, does it real good!”

as you were rapping these lyrics, dancing, you turned around and met with your boyfriend who had wide eyes at your explicit language and the music choice you chose

you froze and widen your eyes that you were finally caught and you couldn’t deny the truth. You’re heart beating due to the combination of singing, dancing and cleaning.

you grabbed your phone and pressed pause

“who am I dating?” He said in sarcastic disbelief

“awh noo, I didn’t want you to see me like this!” You exclaimed

you were embarrassed, like genuinely

“why?”

“Cmon Pete, aren’t you surprised?”

he paused

“yeah actually, I never knew you listened to this music” he said with a hint of disgust

“well I don’t but I have been recently… I used to like rap music years back but I stopped” you admitted

“and I missed it, this music really gets you pumping and full of energy”

he admired your truthfulness, but still wasn’t convinced this was you

“you keep looking at me as if I’m lying to you” you said

he laughed, “can I be honest, I want to believe you that you like this music but .. I just can’t” he said between giggles

“stop Peter I’m serious, I do like this music”

“right…”

“look click any song from here and I can sing with ease, I swear”

he was skeptical but he did anyway. He intently looked at the titles and see if he can loophole and find a song you don’t know… he was wrong

“ah okay this one!”

he played “X” by 21 savage

you proved him wrong, you do know this song

the song only started a few seconds and you told him the name of it and he stood there in shock

“woah”

“I told you”

a few moments of silence and he started dying of laughter

you knew he wouldn’t let this live down

but now you listen to that music and he has to listen

he would be lying if he didn’t find himself singing along and bumping his head.. but he wouldn’t admit that… ever

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