#this stupid fucking jeep shirt

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the end - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - The first shot is fired. While you come up with a plan to confuse and bait these four alphas, they come up with their own strategy.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader. Omega has a shotgun, I REPEAT, Omega has a shotgun. Mentions of violence.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You looked at the four men with wide eyes and they stared back at you with equally wide ones as well. Your finger moved to the trigger of the shotgun and the one with a scraggly mohawk stepped forward. You growled without even meaning to and he hesitated. "Come on Bonnie, drop tae shotgun," he tried to negotiate but you snarled at him.

"Get the fuck out of my woods," you replied, snarling so hard spit flies from your mouth. You pointed the shotgun at the four of them but mostly focused on the Scottish brute in front of you, "Or I'll kill you."

A nasty smile crossed his face, feral and unnatural. "Oh ye wouldnae. You're just a little omega," he cooed and you pulled the trigger. The kick is a little more than you expected and you're pushed flat on your back from the kick. You the blast heard echo through the woods and your ears are ringing. Behind the ringing you hear curses and you looked to see the Scottish alpha on the ground clutching his shoulder with a dark look in his eyes.

His three other alpha packmates gathered around him, fretting over his wound and so you took the chance to get onto your feet and get away. "She's gettin' away!" You heard another shout and then more curses. You assumed that one fell into the hole you had covered up. You hoped he enjoys the wooden spikes.

You huffed and puffed after a while, your breathing fogging the air around you. The winter chill had made your nose hurt and your fingers were stiff. You rubbed them together to try and gather some heat in them. You shakily reloaded the shotgun, putting the spent shotgun shell into your pocket.

You don't need anymore tracks leading them to you.

You can't help but wonder how they figured it out. How they knew someone was still lingering around this long forgotten small town. You racked your brain for the answer as you kept walking, snow crunching under your well worn boots.

You thought back to a few days ago, the last time you had been in for resupply. You had noticed one of your traps had been triggered. The false floor in a building had collapsed underneath the weight of someone. You checked it and found a very big, unnaturally big, beta. He was already dead, he was wearing a T-shirt as a mask of all things. It had taken a lot of effort to get him from the pit, you'd had to grab your old jeep, rarely used except for times like these when you needed to haul something big.

In this case, a tall T-shirt mask wearing beta.

You had cut yourself on a shard of glass picking him up and loading him into the back. You hadn't even thought about it when you wiped your hand on the wooden pole. "Fucking stupid," you whispered to yourself. Carelessness.

After all this time it was carelessness that had gotten you at last.

Then it gave you an idea. If they were able to track your scent using blood...

You grabbed your pocket knife and looked at it, the idea of the perfect trap starting in your mind.

"Fuckin' bitch," Soap hissed from between clenched teeth. The shotgun blast had barely grazed his shoulder but it still hurt like a massive bitch. "She actually shot tae damn thing."

Gaz scoffed as he wrapped his mild puncture wound, the wooden stakes at the bottom not sharpened enough to do any real damage. "That's what you get for provoking," he replied as he stood up.

"I was not provoking!" Soap said and Gaz rolled his eyes.

"Shut it you two," Price finally snapped as he pinched the bridge of his nose using his index and thumb. Gaz had been right, there was an omega running around in this forest still. The issue was now that not only did she know that they were here but that she had known before hand.

"How's Soaps shoulder?" Price asked Ghost, who had a stronger bond with Soap. It was natural. Price was more bonded with Gaz and he could feel his inner alpha snarling and pacing that he was hurt.

"It'll be fine. Luckily the shot mostly missed," Ghost replied gruffly. Price turned to his pack and looked over them.

"What do you think Ghost?"

"I think she has more 'f these traps laid out through the forest," he replied, his shoulders tensed at the idea of having to navigate an entirely booby trapped forest.

"Did you hear what she said?" Gaz asked and Price raised a brow.

"Yes Kyle, what of it?"

"She referred to this place as her woods."

"What of it?" Soap snapped and Gaz glared at his fellow sergeant.

"This is her territory," Gaz finally finished and everyone gave him a skeptical look.

"Omegas don't have territory," Soap responded, "they aren't built like that."

Gaz rolled his eyes. Out of everyone within the pack, Gaz might be the most versed on how omegas operated with Ghost not far behind him. "Even if this is her territory," Price said and even he sounded skeptical, "there's still an easy solution."

Ghost looked at his captain, his stomach churned at what he was about to say. He knew what he would say. They could scruff her.

"We just have to get close." Price said and Soap huffed out a laugh.

"Damn thing is fuckin' feral. We aren't gettin' through these woods without a few more scratches."

"So you're willin' to give up a ripe omega?" Gaz challenged and Soap shook his head.

"I didnae say that."

[muntitled]

Broken Telephones

Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.

Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay

Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3

“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.

“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.

“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”

“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”

It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.

"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.

Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.

"I need to be studying-"

You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.

Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"

"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.

“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.

“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”

“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"

"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.

“Rugby team.” Is all he says.

Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.

"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”

“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”

“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.

"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"

"If this is about Jay again..."

"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.

"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."

And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.

You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.

It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.

A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.

“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.

“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.

“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.

Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.

You don't seem at all impressed.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”

“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.

“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”

Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.

“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”

Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”

Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.

"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.

"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"

"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”

"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.

You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.

“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.

“I'll pass.”

“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering

“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”

He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.

His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.

Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.

Jay decides to throw the game.

“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.

Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.

“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.

You weren't an idiot.

In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.

You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.

Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.

“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”

Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.

And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.

“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.

His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.

“You've been taunting me the whole night.”

“Jongseong, I don't know what-”

Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.

Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.

“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-”

“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.

“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”

A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.

“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.

“I didn't-”

What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.

“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.

“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”

“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”

“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.

“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.

“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”

“Jongseong- baby-”

“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.

It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.

Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”

He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Jongseong-”

“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.

You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”

His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.

Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”

Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.

[withahappyrefrain]

"For someone who hates me, you're not pulling away."

Feels like this was MADE for Jake!

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," you muttered, praying your sunglasses would conceal what you were really looking at.

It seemed like a higher being was out to personally spite you. Because not only were you being forced to spend the whole day with the guy you hated,

He looked fucking hot without a shirt.

Of course he did. It wouldn't be fair if he had a physical flaw, the universe had decided it so.

It was supposed to be a bonding experience, pilots versus mechanics. Why was beyond you, considering you actually liked everyone in your current squadron.

Well, except one pilot. A blonde pilot. A cocky pilot. A pilot who thought the sun rose for them personally to shine a light on their ass. A pilot who had become the bane of your existence.

"Hey Rosie!" You ignored the nickname (all because you wore a fucking red bandana) he insists on calling you, turning to your coworkers instead.

"Your not so secret admirer has arrived," your coworker Nicole giggled.

"Please don't remind me. I already have a headache from him and the game hasn't even started," your index fingers rubbed your temples in a vain effort to soothe the dull ache that came from Jake Seresin.

"Well don't look now but he's coming your way," and with that Nicole walked away, no doubt to go flirt with Bob.

"Hey Rosie, looking pretty good," he pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, making it clear he was looking at you.

"You're going to get burnt with all that baby oil, Seresin," you stared at your phone, not wanting to make eye contact. Or to look at his broad chest.

"Aww, you care about me." He was close. Too close. You could see the hair on his broad chest.

"The same way one cares about a dying mosquito," you took a step away, hoping it would deter him.

Jake has the audacity to chuckle, "You're funny Rosie. Why don't we make this game a little more interesting?"

You raised your eyebrows in mocked surprise, "You're actually going to show good sportsmanship? I'm impressed Seresin, miracles really do come true!"

If your comebacks deter him, he doesn't show it, which is honestly the worst part. No matter what you say, it doesn't drive him away. No, it has the opposite effect, encouraging him to continue to try and interact with you!

Fucking Seresin.

"Nah, but God, you're real cute Rosie," he has that stupid smirk on his face, the one you hate so much. His perfectly white teeth are showing as he oozes Hollywood charm. It's the smirk that makes you briefly consider continuing to chat.

"What do you want Seresin?" You grumble, looking down at the sand. The warmth you felt washing all over your body was clearly the sun, nothing (or no one) else.

"Why don't we make a bet?"

"What are you, twelve?"

Again, he chuckled, as if he found your remarks amusing rather than insulting, "C'mon Rosie, there must be something you want."

"For you to leave me alone." If you had looked up from kicking the sand, you would have seen the assured look on his face fall, his brows knitted together in worry, the corners of his lips turning downward.

But you didn't, giving him time to remask, "Alright Rosie, if y'all win, I'll leave ya alone."

The offer made your head shot up, "And if your team wins?"

His grin widens, "You know me Rosie, I'm a simple man." Lies. "There's not too much I want, just one thing really."

"Just name it Seresin."

"A kiss."

He couldn't be serious. He was.

But your crew had prepared for this game. Nicole would certainly be able to distract Bob, was the dagger's dark horse. You felt good about your chances.

So you shook on it.

Which is how two hours later, you ended up in the parking lot, pressing Jake against his stupid Jeep Wrangler, your lips on his, hands tangled in his stupidly soft hair.

"For someone who claims they hate me, you're not pulling away," He murmurs, victory written smugly across his face.

"Shut up and kiss me Seresin."

"Anything for you Rosie."

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Two of a Kind

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: hahaha 2024

Notes: Y’all are literally so creative, I dont know if this is good enough but I sure hope it is!

This is stupid, this is so so stupid but he really doesn’t have a choice and he really doesn’t have much time and honestly, it’s probably a better idea to be doing this in the bathroom (which he’s done before) but there’s just a level of privacy his Jeep offers, especially since he parked in the back lot oh yeah and it’s 3am. 

Buck pushes his seat back as far as it’ll go and takes out his phone. It’s- it’s embarrassing but he can’t help himself, she just looks so much like you, right down to the curve of her hips. She’s even got the same color nails you do, and he’s not a perv honestly he’s not. But when she shoves his hand down his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking it in time with the man absolutely railing the girl beneath him he feels like one, just a teeny bit. 

“Fuck that’s it baby, fuck cum on this cock” he moans to himself, his hips thrusting up into his hand, he wishes it was your hand, he wishes it was your pussy squeezing his cock, soaking the front of his work pants. But that's wishful thinking 

“Please, please deep-“ 

His hand freezes and he nearly drops his phone, fumbling with it to try and pause his video as fast as possible. He’s watched that video religiously all week, he knows every soft cry and every curse… and he’s never heard that before. 

He looks around for a minute, his heart pounding in his ears as he sits forward just a little bit, his head peeking up from the window. That’s when he notices a soft glow in the car next to him. It’s a couple of spaces away, but the windows are cracked.

“Oh. Shit” He recognizes the Barbie pink car because he’s always teasing the owner of said car. He sits up a little more, he can’t get caught, not now. He can just see your pretty face illuminated by the phone in your hand, your lips are parted, soft moans falling like a symphony as you touch yourself. You’re in the passenger seat, it’s laid back like his was, your legs up on the dash as you work your clit slowly, your shirt is wide open and your pants are discarded somewhere he can’t see

It is 3am after all 

He can feel his cock painfully throbbing at the sight of you, and he makes a decision, a very stupid decision but like… you guys are always so flirty at work and he’s head over heels and there’s literally no other perfect time 

He fixes his pants, leaving his shirt partially open, and gets out of his Jeep, quietly closing the door and taking a deep breath. This is either going to be the hottest thing to ever happen to him or he’s being fired, there is absolutely no in-between.

He struts over, shaking out his arms. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed him, and it’s just making him more nervous. He takes a deep breath before leaning down and knocking on your window 

You shriek and cover your body, your phone falling to the ground as he puts his hands out in front of him 

“It’s me!! It’s me! it’s just me!” 

You throw your door open, swinging your legs down 

“Are you insane?! That was terrifying!” You yell at him and he puts his hands over your mouth 

“Shut up!! We’re gonna get caught!! Move over, come on” 

You shove his hands away, climbing over the center console and he gets in the passenger seat. He looks around for a minute, he’d never been in your car before 

“Well shit, this is actually pretty luxurious” he wiggles his butt and you facepalm, still sitting there in just your half-open work shirt and little else 

“Can I help you??” You ask, holding your head in your hands 

“Actually” He winks as he reaches down and grabs your phone, the video still playing, and his heart nearly stops when the man looks suspiciously like he does 

“Was wondering if maybe I could help you” 

You laugh a little, he’s crazy. 

“Y-you want to what?” 

“I’m gonna be honest with you… we came out here to do the same thing” 

His cheeks are such a lovely shade of pink as he looks over at you, his eyes raking over your body hungrily. This isn’t the first time he’s looked at you like this, and definitely not the first time you’ve seen him do it. 

“Y-you came out here t-to-“ He pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and handing it over. The woman on the screen looks incredibly similar to you and your eyes widen, your heart pounding out of your chest 

“Why don’t we get more comfortable in the back?” Buck is asking, as he gestures toward the backseat and you find yourself climbing over the chairs, curling up on the seat with your knees to your chest as Buck follows you. 

He kicks off his shoes and sits in front of you, taking your legs and pulling them straight so they’re across his lap 

“Better?” 

You nod slowly, looking at his chest. His shirt is wide open as he leans back against the door and smirks at you, massaging your legs. He takes up so much of the backseat, it makes you feel smaller than you already are 

“Now what?” You croak and he grins widely 

“Maybe we just finish what we started?… together?” He pulls his cock out of his pants, it’s still rock hard, the tip dripping pre cum as he strokes it lightly. Your mouth goes dry as you stare at it, you’d seen the outline before, it just kind of happened, especially when he would work out… but seeing it? 

Oh he’s a work of art 

“Your turn” he eggs you on, watching as you shyly wriggle from your panties. He takes them from you, stroking himself with them for a minute 

“F-fuck that’s good” He whimpers, his head falling against the window, his lips parting. He’s panting softly, using your panties to get off when he hears a little moan fall from your lips. His head jerks up and his eyes lock with your hand between your legs, sinking your fingers inside you. 

You stop when he does, biting your lip. He watches with rapt attention as he slowly strokes his cock, and your fingers move in and out in time with his hand. He giggles a little deliriously, practically drooling over you as you fuck yourself with him. He speeds up, jerking his hips up into his hands and you do too, keening softly and sliding down on the seat further, your leg hooking around the chair in front of you 

The lewd wet sounds of your pussy echo in the car around you as you pant together, your hands working together. He stops for a second, reaching for his phone in the front seat 

“C-can I??” He holds it up, and you nod, your cheeks flushing 

“Y-yea do it, want you to get off to me all the time” 

Buck groans as he takes a minute to record you, keeping your body perfectly in frame. He zooms in on your fingers plunging in and out of your puffy pussy, dripping down onto the seat below you. 

“Jesus you’re making such a mess” He whispers, his hand reaching out, softly rubbing the inside of your thigh. Your fingers slow to a stop as you stare at him, he looks at you and it’s like both of you are completely frozen

You reach for his phone, turn it around, and look at him expectantly 

“A-are- do- do you mean???”

You bite your lip, nodding your head and he strokes his cock a couple times before tapping your clit with it. He relishes the feeling of your body jumping each time he does it. He drags his cock through your messy folds, admiring the way you coat his cock so nicely 

“You want it?” He asks softly, his voice deepening “You want daddy’s cock?” 

You nod eagerly, keeping the camera on your dripping sex and his hard cock as he leans down to kiss you, your lips connect for the first time and you easily melt into him. His kiss is long and passionate, his hands touching your hair gently and you sigh dreamily into his mouth as he wraps his tongue around yours, easily dominating you. 

You’d both been crushing way too damn long. All the dirty jokes, the lingering glances, and subtle touches finally explode as he presses you down into the leather beneath you

His hands roam over her body, squeezing her ass and rubbing your clit in slow torturous circles while you’re spreading yourself open for him more. 

"God you're so fucking hot," he murmurs between kisses, getting more worked up by the second. With one swift motion, he slides inside her, groaning at how tight and wet she feels. 

“Y-you’re not so bad yourself” Your voice is high-pitched as he bottoms out, holding it there for a minute. He hands you back his phone, hitting the record button again 

“Oh you’re not gonna wanna miss this”

Buck smirks, thrusting into her harder and faster, his grip on her waist tightening. "Fuck yeah, that's it," he encourages her, loving the way she responds to his touch. The sensation of her pussy gripping his cock sends shivers down his spine, making him want to pound into her even harder 

“H-harder please- fuck go harder” 

Buck growls lowly, "You like that, huh?" he asks, giving her exactly what she wants. He pounds into her relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the confined space of the SUV. His eyes roll back in pleasure, and he knows he won't last much longer. "Almost there, pretty girl," he warns her, his breath coming in short pants.

“Cum in me” She holds him to her, her nails dragging down his back, decorating his skin with pretty red lines

“Wanna go the rest of the shift feeling you inside me”

A shiver runs through Buck's body at your request, and he can feel his orgasm building up. "Fuck, yes," he groans, thrusting into you one final time before releasing his load inside you. 

You sob out his name, cumming with him as he holds himself inside you, filling you with every last drop and loving the way your head tilts back into the seat, your body writhing underneath him as you finish

He lets out a satisfied little sigh, burying his face in your neck as he comes down from his high. "Damn, that was hot," he whispers, his breathing still labored. She nods along with him, panting softly in his ear 

“Sooo hot” 

“We should totally, totally do this again” Buck mumbles as he sits up, and lies back on the seat. He opens his arms and you push yourself up slowly, groaning at the soreness in your muscles, and collapse back on top of him where he cuddles you to his chest 

“Every chance we get, really” you agree and he snickers, rubbing your back slowly 

“So like… before we go further…”

“Are you gonna ask me “what are we?” You giggle and he rolls his eyes, blushing 

“Maybe. Shut up.” 

You look at him, your palms flat on his chest, your head resting on them “What do you think we are? Or rather, what do you want us to be?” 

Buck shrugs, his hands moving up and down your sides, he can’t stop touching you 

“Me? Personally? Would definitely prefer it if only my girlfriend filmed me fucking the shit out of her. But that’s just me…” 

“So if I was your girlfriend…. We could make more? maybe, possibly?” You ask quietly and his cheeks flush deeply 

“Isss that something you want to do? M-make uh- make pornos w-with me?”

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend” You wink and he smacks your ass, gripping it tightly and pulling you against him suddenly to kiss you

“Oh fuck yes”

[starcrossedreaders]

HELLO! I noticed that your requests are open AAAAH! BUT before i will tell you mine i need a silent minute to appreciate your work. ......

THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR YOUR WRITING STYLE, YOUR CREATIVITY, YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, YOUR FAMILY, YOUR MOM, YOUR DAD AND OF COURSE FOR YOU!!!! because your writing style?! Im always kicking my feet how you picture Leon skdjdkdnrekekddjfj. So umm yeeah my request, if you will so kindly agree with writing it down, your majesty. KABEDON!🧎‍♀️ Yeah you saw right KA-BE-DON. I, because i love, once again your writing style, let your fantasy bring out the best of you! Love you and now i will, finally take my leave. (I dont want to pressure you so, if i can, feel free to ignore this! And sorry if there was some kind of a mistake! English is not my first language tee hee) SENDING LOVE 🦫

Author's Note: KABEDON!!! Whenever I think of Leon and kabedon I can only picture a cocky RE2 STEP BRO LEON. So that's what I just wrote :) and Im not sorry. ENJOY!

Warnings: StepBro!Leon, stepcest Fem implied reader. Oral male receiving, sloppy toppy, cursing, uses of names like whore and slut Leon being a meanie weenie :(

Summer was always a dreadful time for you. Divorced parents were nothing to take lightly, especially when your mom packed her bags and moved across the country. In that short period of time, she found a wonderful husband who just also happens to have a son your age. Leon, the biggest asshole you have ever met in your lifetime.

These first few weeks have been awful, the teasing and bullying were getting on your nerves. Today was going to be no different. Your mom and Leon's dad went off to work in the early hours of the day, leaving you two alone once again.

Rolling over in your bed you could hear Leon's loud music playing in the garage. Looking at the time on your phone you groaned. 8:30 in the morning and he's already working on that damn Jeep. Whoever told him that building a Jeep was a great idea is stupid.

Rolling out of bed you lazily put on some shorts. Swinging your door open the cool A/C greeted you. Basking in the cool air you took your time to walk to the connected garage.

When you opened the door loud music spilled into the quiet house. Scanning the garage you were met with Leon's back contorting with each movement. The garage door was open and his Jeep was parked half-way into the garage. Leon was ducked under the hood as he worked on something. His t-shirt was tucked into his jean pocket. His other pocket had an assortment of tools. You watched as a bead of sweat ran down his neck onto his back, entranced by his tan skin and muscled back.

Cringing at the thoughts that ran through your head you walked down the few steps and stormed over to his speaker and slammed down on it, abruptly stopping the music.

"Good morning to you too," Leon wasn't phased one bit. This wasn't the first time you've done this to him these past weeks.

"Seriously Leon, you're going to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood." You watched as Leon worked on the engine hands on your hips.

He twisted his arm to tighten a bolt before he carefully ducked out from under the hood. Grabbing a work rag he turned around and leaned on the car. Leon gave you a look of annoyance but you were too busy admiring his arms.

As he wiped the grease off of his hands his forearms would twist causing his veins to reveal themselves. Trailing your eyes up you tracked his defined collarbone and dragged your eyes down to his chest. His v-line hid behind his boxers. His jeans hung off his hips showing the elastic of boxers. Sweat dripped down his chest down to his grease-covered stomach. He had noticeable abs that moved as he pushed himself off of the car.

Leon watched as you practically undressed him with your eyes. The smirk that adorned his face was almost cocky if it weren't for his boyish features that still remained. To enamored by your thoughts you didn't notice Leon push off of his Jeep and stalk over to you.

Before you could chastise Leon again your back hit the wall as a soft don rang to the left side of your head. Leon's musk scent wafted to your nose as his body heat radiated into you. Your nose bumped into his chest as you looked up at him. Leon was already looking down at you with that stupid smirk on his face.

"Y'know it's not nice to stare, especially at your own brother." His voice was deep and husky. His hot breath fanned over your face.

Scoffing you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting, besides it's not like you're my actual brother."

Leon clicked his tongue. "I wasn't the one staring sweetheart." The name made your stomach twist and thigh squeeze together.

"Whatever, just keep the music down." You tried to duck under Leon's arm to leave this awful situation.

Before you could make your escape Leon's hand wrapped around your hair and shoved you to your knees. The hard cement bit into your knees as you slammed to the floor. Leon's hand held the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He angled your head so you looked up at him. His other hand came down and cupped your cheek. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip before he pushed it into your mouth.

"God, you look so good on your knees little sis." A groan lay dormant in the back of his throat.

Your eyes scanned over his body trying to avoid his icy blue stare. Trailing down to his groin you were met with his member tight in his jeans. Your eyes widened at the sight.

"See what you do to your brother. Walking around in those skimpy shorts. You're practically begging to get bent over and fucked." His lewd words made your pussy clench around nothing as the hot arousal made your head heavy and full of want and need.

Pulling his thumb out of your mouth his hand went up to his jeans and unzipped them. He pumped his dick a few times before he pulled the raging cock out of its confinements. It sprang out, tip red and oozing pre-cum. The sight made your mouth water, but everything about this was wrong. So so wrong but in that moment any and all reason went out of the door.

Grabbing your jaw he pried your mouth open with ease. "Stick it out," His voice was dark and filled with command. Your nipples harden against your shirt as Leon's uncut cock neared your mouth.

Listening to him you stuck your tongue out and looked up at him, eyes glossed over. The sight made him twitch.

“What a good girl you are, helping your big bro out.” He tapped his tip on your tongue twice. 

Strands of salty pre-cum stick to your tongue before Leon slowly slid his dick in your mouth. It was huge, to say the least. He stretched your jaw wide open leaving it to soon ache.  For Leon though, your mouth was heaven to him. 

Your tongue wrapped around his dick closing your mouth around him as the tip hit the back of your throat. Gagging tears brimmed your eyes before Leon quickly pulled out of your mouth.

Hissing Leon’s deep voice rattled through you. “Fuck you’re such a fucking slut. Now suck it.” He tapped his dick on your mouth once before he put both hands on the wall above you for stability.

Doing as told you gripped his cock. He was so thick, the thought of him being inside of you sent stars to your vision and slick between your legs. Bring his dick towards your mouth you kiss the tip. This simple action had Leon groaning and throwing his head back.

“Fuck don’t be a tease.” Rolling your eyes you left small kitten licks along him.

You wish his pants were down, you wanted no, needed to taste his balls. Moaning you sucked his tip in your mouth. Your moans vibrated up to his balls, Leon let out a shaky breath curling one of his hands into a fist. He was just so big in your mouth. Your jaw ached as your clit pulsed with need.

“G-god, your mouth.” His words were shaky. He rolled his hips pushing his cock further in your mouth.

You move your hands on his thighs for support as you take him deeper. In one go Leon grabbed the back of your head making a makeshift ponytail as he shoved the rest of his dick in your mouth. He moaned at the overwhelming feeling as you gagged. His tip kissed the back of your throat, gagging you. Your nose was met with his curls at the base of his cock.

“Look at you, taking my big cock so well.” He watched as you coughed. Pulling your head back he watched as his pre-cum and drool fell dripping down your chin. 

Pulling you off of him he gave you a moment to breathe before he was shoving himself right back into your mouth. His tip teased the back of your sore throat once more. Salty tears ran down your cheeks as your hole turned syrupy. You grinded down on nothing with need.

“Goddamn. Look how pretty you look, letting me throat fuck you like the whore you are.” Leon’s hungry eyes pierced into you.

“Didn’t know my sister was such a slut.” His words had you squeezing your eyes shut the further he fucked down into your throat.

“M’gonna cum.” Your muffled moans clouded Leon’s vision.

“Yea? I’m gonna paint your pretty little throat and you’re going To .Take. Every. Ounce.” WIth each word he slammed his tip in the back of your throat.

“Fuckfuckfuckkk.” With one last thrust his cock was throbbing as white cum spurted out painting the back of your throat as promised.

He slowly slid his sensitive cock out of your mouth leaving a trail of salty cum in his wake. When he pulled it out his dick went limp as his blue eyes went soft. Cupping your cheek he wiped your tears away as your cringed, swallowing his seed.

“Such a good girl.” Wiping your mouth Leon helped you up and even handed you a bottle of water.

The cold water soothed your sore throat, turning towards Leon you pointed. "What happened just now stays between us. Our parents can't know." Your voice was stern and laced with a plea.

Leon only scoffed before he smirked. "What? It's not like I'm your actual brother." His mocking tone pushed each one of your buttons.

"Besides I'm sure the neighbors heard you choking on my big fat co-" You were quick to cut Leon off.

"Stop!" You groaned in embarrassment and stormed off to the few steps leading into the house Leon hot on your heels. Before you could twist the door knob he grabbed your arm.

"Hey," His voice was soft as you turned to look at him.

"I promise this stays between us, no one will know not even Chris." You scanned his face body sagging before you said. "Thank you."

Smiling he took one step up to you. Cupping your face in between his hands his blue eyes scanned over your features before he leaned in a pressed a soft and sweet kiss to your lips.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Taglist: @hermizery @alewesker @ballorawan740 @lastaceylia00 @chunnies @d10nsaint @darklinxx

[ereardon]

When I'm Done With You [Bob Floyd x Reader]

Gif cred: @delopsia 

A Bob Floyd frat AU

Summary: At a fraternity mixer, you lose your (admittedly shitty) boyfriend in the crowd. That’s when Bob Floyd, president of Alpha Tau and your boyfriend’s personal nemesis, finds you and decides to make you his. 

Pairing: Bob Floyd x reader 

Warnings: Cursing, fraternities, SMUT, gambling

WC: 5.5K

A/N: This was entirely written because of the new Lew frat photos. I have no self control. We are sluts in this household for Lewis Pullman.

“Say it,” he demanded. Bob’s eyes were dark, his fingers rough against the delicate skin of your chin as he tipped your gaze toward his. 

His voice was low and hoarse and it forced a crop of goosebumps up and down your bare arms, and the exposed flesh of your thighs. 

“Say it,” Bob repeated and you squeezed your legs together, mouth hanging open as he slipped a thumb inside, pad of his finger pressing down softly against your wet tongue. You instinctively closed your lips around the digit, sucking loudly, and Bob’s blue eyes grew darker. 

He removed his thumb, sliding the saliva over your cheek as his hand gripped the back of your neck tightly. The beat of the music in the house mixed with your rapid heartbeat and you were pulsating from the inside out. 

Bob stood, waiting, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you condescendingly, the popped collar of his button down shirt nudging against the curling edges. 

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whispered and his lips pulled back in a smirk. A Cheshire Cat grin. 

“Beg.” 

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you moaned, stepping closer, brushing your body against him, desperate for his touch. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” he said. 

“You.” 

“That’s right,” Bob said and you couldn’t help but lean forward, your pelvis aching for him even though you had no idea what he would feel like inside of you. All you knew in that moment was how all-consuming the idea of Bob fucking you was. “You belong to me. Not him, me. You’re all mine.” 

You nodded weakly and Bob leaned down, ghosting his lips over yours. 

“When I’m done with you,” he whispered, “tell your boyfriend I say hi.” 

*One Day Before*

“Get in, we’re going to be late.” 

You sighed, sliding across the hot leather seat as Seth reached over and yanked the door shut before dropping the Jeep into gear and peeling off before you could even get your seatbelt on. “Fuck,” you groaned. “Relax, we’re like two minutes early still.” 

“Would be earlier if you could learn how to read a clock.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned to look out the window. Campus flew by as Seth skidded down the road before pulling over in front of the Sigma Chi house. “It’s just a stupid meeting,” you said as he shoved the car into park. 

Seth’s eyes burned as he turned to you. “I’m the president, Y/N. How would it look if the president didn’t show up on time?” 

“You’re the president of a fraternity,” you huffed, dropping down onto the gravel driveway and slamming the door shut, “not the president of the United States.” 

Seth tossed a dirty look over his shoulder as he jogged up the stairs, pulling open the double wood doors to reveal the house’s imposing front room. At the far end, directly within your sight, was a stone fireplace so tall you could stand under it, like a medieval ballroom. Or maybe it was the long hallway of framed composite photographs of former fraternity council members lining the walls that gave off the castle vibes. Either way, you always noticed a chill in the air the moment you entered the Sigma Chi house, even on a sweltering day. 

Today was no different. 

Seth strode through the wide room toward the staircase. “Babe!” he called out. “I’ll be back in thirty.” 

You nodded but he had already rounded the corner, descending the stairs to the basement. You shivered at the thought, instead shaking your head and making your way across the room toward the door at the far end which led out to the side yard where a small garden with chairs sat facing both the back and the road in front of the house. 

Sometimes, especially on a day like today, you wondered why you were with Seth at all. It wasn’t the fraternity thing. Some girls swooned over frat guys. But the parties, once you stripped away the veneer of loud music and dark lighting, were more disgusting than you could ever imagine. And only someone who had witnessed the space first-hand the day after, drinking coffee while watching pledges scrub vomit and caked in dirt and rivulets of beer from the wooden floors, could attest to that fact. 

It wasn’t that he was particularly charming or nice. It wasn’t that he was all together handsome, although you supposed he was decently good in bed. 

Perhaps it was the fact that you just didn’t want to be alone. Being with Seth was the perfect amount of commitment. He was busy half of the week with fraternity business, and there was always somewhere to go on the weekends. 

He was a safety blanket. 

You sat perched on an adirondack chair, a pair of sunglasses slipped over your eyes, turning your head when you heard a few voices coming from near the front of the house. Squinting, you spotted a gaggle of guys walking down the sidewalk. They weren’t stopping, so they definitely weren’t Sigma Chi. 

Upon closer inspection, you recognized a few of them. Namely, Bob Floyd. President of Alpha Tau. 

And Seth’s personal rival. 

The two of them had gone head-to-head in more ways than you could count. In the economics department last semester for a research fellowship. 

Bob had won. 

At the spring fraternity wrestling contest. 

Seth had somehow beaten Bob, but only after several rounds of close calls on both sides. 

Seth had made it crystal clear that Bob Floyd was not someone you were allowed to speak to. So when Bob stopped, his gaze locked on yours, your breath caught in your throat. You opened your mouth, as if to call out to him, but words died in your throat. He lifted up his sunglasses and winked, before taking off down the road, falling seamlessly back into conversation with his friends as if nothing had even happened. 

You couldn’t explain why. But you felt your pulse quicken, an ache developing in your pelvis. You shook your head. 

Bob Floyd was the very last person who should make you feel this way. 

***

You turned in the mirror, examining your short dress. “Are you sure this looks OK?”

Annie nodded from where she sat on your bed. “You look perfect. Going to make those frat boys lose their minds.” 

You rolled your eyes and smoothed your hands over the silky fabric, adjusting the skinny straps. “Are the shoes too much?” You wiggled your ankles and the stilettos you had on. 

“You know you’re fifteen times hotter than Seth, right?” Annie said and you looked up with a gasp. “Oh, don’t give me that. He’s kind of a tool and we both know it.”

Annie had been your roommate for two years and she’d seen everything unfold with Seth. From the first time the two of you met at a party to the first time he broke your heart and you took him back. 

To say she wasn’t a fan was an understatement. 

You leaned down, filling your purse. “You should come tonight,” you said. “It could be fun.” 

“Absolutely not.” Annie jumped up and strode to the door. “But call me when shit hits the fan, OK? I’ll come pick you up.” 

You smiled. “Love you.” 

Once she was gone, you looked at your reflection in the mirror one more time. A part of you was dreading tonight. The annual frat mixer, where fraternity brothers from all of the different chapters mingled together on Greek Row. Tonight’s party was going to be hosted by two neighboring houses: the Delta Kappa Epsilons and the Alpha Taus. 

You grabbed your purse and headed for the front door, calling an Uber. Seth had claimed he was too busy to swing by and pick you up for the party. 

Just to torture him, before you left you reached down, slipping off your black thong and flinging it into the corner pile of laundry. You pulled out your phone and texted Seth. 

See you in a few, you wrote. PS — I’m not wearing any underwear. 

***

By the time you got to Greek Row, you could feel a bubble of anxiety building in your chest. Events like this always made you tense up. Before Seth, you hadn’t stepped foot near a fraternity. It still wasn’t your vibe, but you had become somewhat acclimated to Greek life. 

You pulled out your phone after stepping out of the Uber. No text. Sighing, you made your way down the sidewalk toward the DKE house.

It was already bustling, and through the large glass windows at the front you could see people already filling up the house, the lights turned down, the music turned all the way up. 

Stepping up to the door, it swung open before you could even knock. The boy in a bow tie and jacket smiled at you. “Come on in.” He recognized you. That was one thing: you were Seth Landon’s girl. You were untouchable. There was almost a secret club, the girlfriends of fraternity presidents. You were protected and watched. 

Wandering through the rooms of the house, your eyes flitted around for Seth. Everywhere you looked there were couples and stray frat guys, drinking and vaping. It felt oddly civil, considering some of them were mortal enemies. 

You made it through the whole house with no sign of Seth and no text. He hadn’t even read your original message. He was the only person you knew under the age of forty with read receipt on. 

Sighing, you filed out of the house and down the stairs, shaking your head and making your way over to the Alpha Tau house. Their house was darker, all wooden beams and imposing brass knocker. Again, the door swung open before you could reach up to knock, another frat lackey recognizing you and letting you in. 

“Have you seen Seth Landon?” you asked. 

He shook his head. “Sorry. Check the back, I know a poker game is starting up.” 

You groaned. If there was one thing you knew was Seth’s downfall, it was gambling. He’d bet on anything. 

Slowly, this house was more crowded than the DKE one, you stumbled down the halls toward the back. At one point the crowd was too thick, and you cut over through a small hallway near the staircase. You stopped, back to the wall, looking down at your phone, checking again for a message, when an arm came out, hand pressed against the wall behind your head. 

You looked up. 

Bob Floyd stared down at you. Unlike most of the other guys, he had foregone a blazer. Instead, he wore a blue button up with the collar popped, a pair of khakis molded against his round ass, a needlepoint belt holding in his trim waist. He had a large silver watch on the wrist of the arm next to your head and his blue eyes bore into yours. “Lost, baby girl?” he asked, his voice thick. 

You narrowed your eyes. “No. And I’m not your baby girl.” 

His free hand rubbed against his mouth and you watched as the veins in his hands and forearms buldged. When he pulled it away, his lips pulled back in a wide grin. “Trust me, I know. You’re Seth Landon’s girl.”

“If you know that, why are you here?” you whispered. “He’d kill you if he saw you talking to me.” 

Bob leaned in closer until he was practically caging you against the wall. “I’m not scared of that jackass,” he said. 

Your eyes met his. Bob ran his tongue over his pink lower lip. You didn’t even care to look around and see if others had spotted you and Bob in the narrow hallway. For some reason, standing there with Bob, not touching, was the singular hottest thing you had experienced in months, maybe years. 

He leaned down, tracing your jaw with one finger and you found yourself mewling at his touch. He grinned. “Sensitive, aren’t you?” 

Your eyes went wide as you remembered where you were. Who you were with. More specifically, who you weren’t with. Your boyfriend. 

Bob took a step back, lifting his hand from your face, but the ghost of his touch lingered. He slipped his hand into his pants pocket, tilting his head to the left. “Landon’s that way,” he murmured. 

You nodded, hiking your purse higher onto your shoulder, your legs like gelatine beneath you. 

“Baby girl?” he asked. “Come find me when you’re done with that tool. I’ll be upstairs, second floor.” 

And then he disappeared, out through the end of the narrow hallway. The minute Bob turned around the corner, air rushed back into your lungs. You pressed one hand to your chest and found that you were trembling. 

A couple burst through the door at the end of the hall and you jerked your head, watching as they flitted past you. You took a deep breath, pushing yourself off of the wall and heading toward the back of the house and the poker session the guy at the door had told you about. 

It was little surprise that you found Seth sitting at a legitimate poker table, green felt top littered with chips and cards, Seth’s tanned face pinched as he examined the cards in his hands. He tossed in a stack of red chips and let out a grunt when the dealer dropped a two of hearts on the table as the last of five cards. “Fuck!” he said, tossing in his cards. “I’m out.” He looked up and spotted you. “Hey baby, come here.” 

You stepped forward and he pulled you onto his lap. His thigh was angular and uncomfortable, his hands were too warm, bordering on sweaty, and he smelled like a pack of Marlboros. “You were supposed to wait for me,” you complained. 

His face darkened. “I was busy, Y/N. I have responsibilities.” He looked at the table before nudging you off of him with one hand. “Gotta finish this round, babe. Grab a drink, I’ll come find you.” 

“I want to leave,” you said, arms crossed over your chest. 

Seth didn’t even look up. “We’re not going.” The five other guys at the table looked up with grins. One let out a low whistle. 

You held your ground. “You didn’t even pick me up. You made me chase you through both houses. I’m tired of this.” 

“Then leave,” Seth said, his eyes never deviating from the cards in front of his face. 

You were seething. The air was thick and tense around the card table as everyone waited for your response. You shrugged. “Fine. Fuck you, Seth.” 

Another low whistle. A few heads turned. Seth still refused to face you. “You’re being childish, Y/N,” he said calmly. “Have a beer, chill out. I’ll find you after the game.” 

“No,  you won’t,” you hissed. “Have a good life.” You peered over his shoulder and then at the cards on the table. “By the way, he’s got a busted straight.”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He tossed his cards down in fury, eyes blazing. “What the fuck!” 

But you were already halfway out the door, trailing down the darkened hallway, toward the staircase. You sucked in a breath and climbed the wooden stairs, your heart pounding. 

All you knew was that you had to find Bob. Your anger was making your head spin. You turned at the top of the stairs, looking both ways before peering out over the railing, legs shaking. After two years, you thought there would be tears. At least some kind of sadness. But you felt nothing for Seth. 

Only anger. 

You swiveled around, starting down one dark hallway. Everywhere you looked it was wood paneled. Imposing. Borderline threatening. You wandered all the way down the hallway, passing a slew of closed doors, before finding a door at the end of the hallway that was ajar, warm light seeping in through the crack. 

Softly, you nudged it open to reveal Bob Floyd standing in front of a massive fireplace, one forearm resting against the mantle which held a large framed frat composite from that year’s class. 

And even though your steps were silent, he heard you. “How did I know you’d come looking for me?” he said before turning around, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up and crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

You lingered by the doorway. Stepping inside further would only seal your fate. 

Bob’s gaze never left you. Several moments passed, just the two of you in the study, before you finally stepped forward, closing the door behind you. 

You had just signed away Seth in a single movement. 

Bob crossed the expanse of the room in a few long strides. For perhaps the first time you looked at him, really looked at him. You had spent so long avoiding Bob because of Seth’s hatred toward him. But somewhere deep down you knew why Seth hated him so much. Because Bob was better. Smarter, smoother, more charming. He was everything Seth wanted to be and couldn’t. 

He walked you backward until your back was pressed against the supple leather arm of a dimpled couch that sat in front of the wide wooden hearth. You felt the clammy coolness of the leather stick to your bare skin. 

“What do you want?” he asked, voice slow. Deliberate. “Tell me what you want.” 

You shook your head, denying him. It felt good. For the first time in a long time you were striking out on your own. Seth couldn’t put you down or keep you boxed in. 

Bob didn’t want to hold you back. He didn’t want to tame you. What you didn’t know was that while you had been avoiding him, he had been seeking you out. Watching as you made your way through the dining hall, eyes combing the long tables for Seth, glazing over him entirely. What you hadn’t seen was the way Bob’s body pulsated when you were closer, like an alarm that only he could hear. 

You had decided five minutes ago that you wanted Bob. He had decided two years ago that he was going to make you his. 

“Say it,” he demanded. 

You parted your mouth, letting him slip his thick thumb against your tongue as you tasted him, sucking greedily. He slid his finger out from your puckered mouth, across your face, grabbing your neck, drawing you closer. 

What you thought was condescension crossed his eyes. But it was lust. It was pure, unadulterated lust and excitement. 

“Fuck me, daddy,” you murmurred and Bob grinned. He hardened in his khakis as you begged him. 

Bob reached down, sliding one arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly as his lips descended on yours, ravishing you, moving off of your mouth onto your neck as you cried out in pleasure, his fingertips squeezing your waist, desperate for you. Before you could even moan his name, Bob spun you around until your hands came out to hold you up from against the couch as he pressed, hard, on your back, sending you curled, face-down, onto the dark leather. 

He sank to his knees, shoving up the short hem of your dress, practically combusting when he saw you were naked beneath it. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling out a hand and smacking your round ass cheek, hard. You cried out. “Do you want more?” he asked and even though he was rough, you knew that he would stop if you wanted him to. 

You buried your head against the cool leather. “Yes, daddy.” 

Bob pulled his hand back, landing it again on your soft skin, eliciting a groan from you as you instinctively wiggled away, digging your bare core against the curved arm of the couch. He lurched forward, pressing his soft lips to your ass cheek, nipping at the flesh softly as his hand nudged your knees further apart until you were spread wide for him. “Good girl,” he murmured, tracing his hands over your bare thighs. “Now tell me what you want.” 

“You.” It came out broken but Bob knew exactly what you meant. His hands migrated up your thighs until his thumbs were spreading you apart, your slick juices already starting to drip down his digits as he shoved his face between your legs, tongue nudging your entrance as you gasped against the couch. “Oh!” 

Bob pressed forward, his tongue coming out to lick your folds as his fingers gripped you tightly, holding your trembling legs apart. “Be still,” he commanded as you whined against the couch before reaching up and pressing one thick finger into your throbbing cunt, a scream echoing through the room as you adjusted to him. Bob immediately began to thrust his finger in and out of your tight pussy before pulling out entirely. 

Just as you were about to whine at the loss of contact, you felt his hands on your waist, dragging you up and spinning you around. Bob dropped back down to his knees, pushing your dress up to your hips, yanking you forward until you were teetering on the edge of the couch arm. 

“Come here,” he whispered gruffly and your head fell back in a moan as Bob licked up your folds, tongue dancing along the nub of your clit instantly. 

“Oh, fuck!” 

“That’s it,” he murmured, sucking your clit harshly before driving two fingers this time into your squelching pussy. “Fuck yes.” Bob curled his fingers inside of you, your spongy walls gripping him tightly as his tongue slid in tight circles around your clit until you were wiggling, whining, moaning above him, your legs shaking where you stood with your stilettos pressed against the ground. 

“Bob!” 

His name on your lips set Bob on fire. He pressed inside of you deeper, sucking tightly on your clit until you were coming on his fingers and face, screaming his name. 

Bob drove you into overstimulation, unable to tear himself away from between your legs until your fingers were threading themselves into his long hair, a string of begs falling from your lips. “Please, please, please, fuck it’s too much.” Finally, he lifted his head, mouth slick with your juices, rubbing at his lips with the back of his hand. You remained on the edge of the couch arm, legs spread open, pussy on display, as Bob stood, wrapping one hand around your neck. “Always knew you’d like my mouth on your pussy,” he murmured and you blushed. 

Before you could object, Bob had his arm around your waist, tugging down your dress, hand on your hips, guiding you toward the door. You looked back at him over your shoulder and he nodded reassuringly. 

“My room’s across the hall,” he said, voice low. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

And then the two of you were locked in his bedroom. It was a near clone of the room you had just been in, but with a bed against the far wall instead of a couch and fireplace. 

You turned to face Bob. His eyes watched you carefully.

Bob reached out, both hands grabbing your waist, dragging you closer until the two of you were only millimeters apart. “Bob?” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you doing this just because of how much you hate Seth?” 

“Are you?” 

You didn’t know. So instead you trailed your hands down to his belt and Bob’s eyes widened, but he remained silent. 

Silent as you unfastened his belt, fingers reaching for his zippered fly, feeling how hard he was already beneath his khakis. 

Silent as you eased his pants down his legs, kneeling at his feet, coming face-to-face with his barely covered cock as he bulged against the tight fabric of his boxers. 

Silent as you yanked the waistband of his boxer briefs down, gasping as his long, thick cock sprang to attention, practically hitting you in the face. You hesitated. “Are you going to suck my cock, baby?” he asked mockingly. 

To Bob’s surprise you leaned forward, one hand reaching out and cupping the base of his cock, your mouth immediately surrounding his length until you could feel the tip of him bashing against your throat as you choked on him. 

“Fuck,” Bob murmurred, fingers grabbing your hair, yanking you backward. You looked up at him expectantly and he almost growled. “Suck me good,” he whispered, “and I’ll fuck you like the little slut I know you think you are.” 

You moaned, licking your lips before diving back in, bobbing up and down along his length, using your hands to grip his base, twisting up and down as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in. 

Above you, Bob closed his eyes, using his hands to surround your head as he fucked into your face, causing you to moan and pushing saliva out of your mouth down the edges of your lips, tears springing to your eyes as he pushed his cock further into your throat and you gagged. “Taking me so well,” he murmured, looking down at you at his feet. “Fuck, look at you. A fucking mess.”

You whimpered on his length and Bob drove himself faster into your mouth, both hands pressed against your scalp as he thrust his hips toward your face, your nose buried in his pubic hair until he could feel himself coming undone. 

“Shit, fuck, yes!” he cried as he shot thick ropes of cum into the back of your throat, spilling down your throat and filling your mouth, seeping out the corners as he looked down, thrusting one last time into your mouth until you were gagging around him, mouth full. 

He pulled out of you and you swallowed harshly. Bob reached out and dragged the pad of his thumb beneath your eyes, wiping away the tears that had gathered there. He reached out a hand, helping you to your feet. 

“Take off your clothes.” It was a demand, not a request. You shed your dress quickly, stepping out of it and standing naked in front of Bob. 

His eyes slowly worked their way down, from the top of your head to your feet in the stilettos. 

“Shoes.” 

You kicked them off. Bob pushed away his pants, slowly beginning to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt desire bubble up inside of you as he shrugged out of his shirt, dropping it onto the ground, reaching out and laying you back onto the bed. 

Bob suctioned his lips to your neck, slotting himself between your legs, your ankles crossing over behind his perfect ass and you could feel him, hard again, against your inner thigh as you rolled your hips up toward him. 

He kissed down the column of your throat, landing on your breast, sucking the nipple between his teeth as you whimpered. 

“So fucking desperate,” he muttered. “It’s like you’ve never been fucked before. Landon probably has a tiny dick, doesn’t he? Never made you feel anything.” 

“Don’t talk about him,” you groaned, trying not to lose your focus as Bob skimmed his hips against yours, dragging his fat cock over your folds as you clutched his arms. “Shut up and fuck me.” 

Bob pulled back, eyes hard. “Did you just tell me to shut up?” 

“Yes?” 

He reached out one hand, cupping your jaw gently. “Baby, I'm only going to tell you once. In here, you’re mine, you understand? You do what I say, unless you want out.” 

You throbbed between your legs. “Yes daddy.” 

He nodded. “Good girl. Now get on your knees and face the headboard.” 

You did as you were told. Bob positioned himself between you, fingers raking down your back from your shoulders to your waist before dipping down and circling your clit. You let out a sharp whine as he spread your folds apart, nudging your legs wider, settling behind you. There was the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being ripped open and then you felt Bob nudge at your entrance. 

Bob leaned forward, pushing the thick head of his cock inside of you, and you moaned. He kissed your back along your spine as he slid deeper inside your tight cunt, stretching you open. Bob reached down, grabbing your waist, forcing himself in further until he let out a deep moan as he pressed the last inch inside, filling you completely, threatening to break you apart. 

You whimpered as he pulled back, slamming his hips forward, filling you to the breaking point. “Bob!” 

“Right here baby girl,” he mumbled. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

You let out a sharp cry as he pounded into you. Bob’s large hands pulled you upright, one arm wrapped around your chest, hand firmly holding your breast. 

“Look up,” he demanded and when you did your eyes widened. Above the headboard was a large mirror. You watched as Bob’s eyes followed yours while he fucked up into you from behind, his free hand reaching down and toying with your cunt. 

You moaned, shutting your eyes, and Bob slapped your clit harshly. 

“Open your eyes,” he commanded and you did as you were told. “Watch me while I fuck you.”  

You watched, mouth open, as Bob filled you repeatedly, his moans filling your ear as he panted, fingers squeezing your nipple, thumb digging into your clit in sharp circles as he thrust into you. “I’m going to come,” you groaned and Bob’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head as you shuddered around him. 

You slumped back against him and Bob laid you down gently onto the bed before reaching down and digging your head into the mattress, one hand on the back of your head as he sped up his hips, plunging his thick cock into you as you screamed for him, legs shaking from the remnants of your orgasm. “Fuck!” he shouted, pulling out of you and rolling you over, ripping off the condom and pumping his length twice before shooting more cum all over your bare tits, letting it drip off of his softening cock onto your drenched cunt as you laid beneath him, trembling. 

Bob tossed the condom out, reaching down and scooping up the white cum from your stomach. He held out his finger near your mouth and instinctively you opened it, letting him push the spend against your tongue. He groaned watching you swallow, tits covered in sticky semen. 

“If you want to clean up,” he said, tilting his head toward the bathroom. 

When you returned, you frowned. “What is that?” 

“A shirt.” Bob stood, holding it out and helping you pull it on. It fell to mid-thigh and he slowly buttoned the two middle buttons. 

“What about my dress?” you murmured. 

“You don’t need it for what I have planned,” Bob said, pulling you down onto his lap, his fingers tight against your neck. 

***

The next morning, you woke up sore and exhausted. 

Bob lent you a jacket and the two of you descended the stairs with his jacket draped over your shoulders. On the first floor of the house, pledges were scrubbing the floors and the walls, cleaning up empty beer cans, and mopping the kitchen. 

Bob’s hand was warm on your waist as he guided you through the house. “Let me drive you home,” he murmured and you nodded. 

Once he pulled his Range Rover up to your apartment, you jumped out and to your surprise, Bob got out too, crossing around the front of the car, closing the door behind you. He opened his mouth just as the two of you heard a voice from over your shoulder. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

Seth stood up from where he had been half asleep on your front stoop. His tanned face was pinched and red. Instinctively, Bob reached out, half hiding you behind him, one hand protectively on your waist. 

“Get your hands off my girl right fucking now, Floyd,” Seth seethed, “or I will punch your lights out.” 

“Would love to see you try, asshole.” 

Seth stepped forward but Bob still had four inches on him. He was angry and practically buzzing whereas Bob was calm and cool. 

Seth peered around Bob the best he could. 

“Where the fuck were you?” he demanded. “With him? You fucking whore.” 

Bob’s fist came out so fast you didn’t even have time to think. One second the three of you were standing in the early morning sun and the next minute Seth was on the grass, writhing in pain, blood spurting out of his nose as Bob shook out his hand. 

“Fuck! What the fuck dude?” 

“Don’t speak to her like that.” Bob’s voice was eerily level. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fuck your girlfriend for the fifth time this morning.” 

He grabbed your hand, pulling you toward your apartment, the two of you stepping directly over Seth’s prostrate body. 

Bob waited for you to open the door to your apartment before shutting it tight and locking it, swiveling you around until your back was pressed against the door. His dark eyes bore into yours. “You’re mine now,” he whispered gruffly. 

You nodded. You were his.

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[cosyvelvetorchid]

for a writing prompt,….Buck and Tommy get caught in the firetruck ( buck 1.0 style).

We love a bit of Buck 1.0. Enjoy! 🩶

*****

RATED: E

It was almost 3am. Bucks shift had finished 45 minutes ago and he was more than excited to be going home. Home meaning Tommy’s place. He was always excited to be seeing Tommy after shift but he was particularly on edge to see him tonight.

Literally.

All day Tommy had been teasing him with filthy messages telling him what he was to do with Buck after shift. Buck had spent the majority of the day riled up with half a hard on. One accidental brush to his dick from anyone or any thing and he would have exploded like an illegal firework.

But, because shit always happens when it’s the least convenient, his jeep wouldn’t start. Aside from Chimey who was working a double to cover sickness from a member of the B shift, everybody had already left so nobody could take him home. And being a Saturday night, it would be a wait for an uber.

Instead, he reluctantly called Tommy who, of course, immediately jumped into his car to come pick Buck up.

He walked into the station and Buck damn near came in his pants like a teenager at the sight. He was wearing the exact same outfit he’d worn on their first date—top 3 buttons undone on his shirt too— that he knew drove Buck wild.

“Hey.” His voice practically sang in the low gorgeous tone.

“God you’re so fucking hot.” Buck told him, trying desperately not to jump him in the middle of the station.

Tommy laughed. “I thought you’d like the outfit” he smirked.

“Understatement of the millennium.” Buck told him.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah I-“ An idea crossed Bucks mind. It was probably stupid, definitely reckless but so absolutely fucking hot. “Uh, did I ever tell you about how I got fired when I was a probie?”

“Yeah, you stole an engine to have sex.” He answered correctly. Buck raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s your poi- Evan. We are not stealing a fire truck to have sex.”

“Oh of course not.” He said stepping close to Tommy. “I just think it’s highly convenient there’s an empty engine in front of us and-“ he looked around the semi darkened station “-B shift are all catching up on sleep..” he reached up and opened the door. “And someone told me today that they were going to suck my dick so hard I’d see stars..”

“Evan, we can’t..”

“Well, I’m going to to get in the engine and take off my pants. What you do is up to you.” He stepped up into the truck and closed the door behind him.

Tommy stood for a second contemplating Evan’s suggestion. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t turn him on—he was flushed and half hard already. He looked around to make sure nobody was around and reached up to open the door. As he stepped up and saw inside his throat immediately went dry and his mouth filled with saliva simultaneously.

Evan was sat in the center of the back seat, naked from the waist down, legs wide apart, slowly stroking himself.

This kid was gonna kill him. Or get them both fired.

He shut the door behind him and shot forward grabbing Evan by the throat and crashing his lips into his. Buck whined at the feel of Tommys lips on his, and then at Tommys tongue taking over his mouth. His hand grabbed Evan’s cock and he continued at the rhythm Evan was going at.

“Fuck that’s.. ah.. good..”

Tommy moved his lips along Evan’s jaw, under his ear and down his throat. Nipping and licking as he travelled.

He hated to admit it but the thought of them getting caught was making his own cock swell uncomfortably in his own pants. Slowly his mouth travelled down Evan’s torso and groin. He licked the crease in the inside of Evan’s leg; his cheek lightly grazing Evan’s cock, who groaned at the touch.

“Please.. Tommy.. “ Tommy looked up, making eye contact with Evan as his tongue slid agonisingly slowly across to the base. Keeping eye contact his licked slowly up the underside of Evan’s cock, sucking in the head as he got to the top.

“Fuck!” Evan breathed out. Tommy still had plans for when they got home, so he wasn’t going to draw this moment out too long.

Without warning he took Evan whole in one go.

“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Evan called out, not being able to enunciate his words. “Holy.. ah!”

Tommy moved quickly; lips and mouth sliding up and down along the velvety skin. Evan’s cock was jabbing the back of Tommys throat and his hands grabbed Tommys hair, holding on for leverage as his hips bucked in rhythm, fucking Tommys mouth.

He was so fucking close to exploding down Tommys throat. He loved it when Tommy took his time teasing and playing and edging him into a bumbling mess. But something Tommy surprised him with an instant 0-60mph experience that drove him wild.

“God.. ah.. I’m so fuck.. fucking.. cl..close.. ah!”

He was right there . Right on the cliff edge, about to cascade over into a pool of absolute fucking heaven when the engine door suddenly opened.

“AAAHHHH! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Chimneys voice cried out. Buck and Tommy immediately separated; Buck clamouring to put his pants back on. He jumped out of the engine, not even bothering to put his shoes back on.

“Chim I’m so so-“

“No no no no!” He called back holding his arms up. “Don’t want to hear anything from you. Why? Buck. Why?! We have to work in that truck?! How many times have you done that?! Do you clean it afterwards?! Actually I don’t want to know!” He turned to walk away.

“Wait wait wait!” Buck shouted, running ahead and standing in front of him.

“It was the first time, I swear. And I-I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to, it-it just happened and-“

“You know how lucky you are that it was me that caught you and not cap? Or any of the B shift?” Chimney asked him. Buck couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m going to let this one go and pretend it didn’t happen—mostly for the sake of the nightmares I’m inevitably going to have now, and the fact that your sister would be mad at me if I let you lose your job. So-“

“I swear it won’t hap-“

“Stop talking. So.. I’m going to walk away and the two of you are going to go home. But if it happens again I’m definitely going to report it to Cap. Understood?”

“Yes.” Buck replied immediately before Chim walked away. Just as he got most of the way up the stairs he turned back towards Buck and Tommy. “Oh and Buck! You better clean in there be for you leave. Maybe use bleach.” He shivvered.

“I think that just put a dampener on our evening.” Tommy said.

“You wash your mouth out Thomas Kinard! You are going to take me home, and we’re going to finish what we started.” He walked quickly out of the station towards Tommys car.

“Yes, Sir.” Tommy replied to himself before following.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Shit Habit

A Married!Javi Drabble

Rating: PG13 (just suggestive stuff, nothing explicitly smutty. Warning: mention of Stechner)

Series Masterlist

“What happened to the nicotine gum?” She asked, looking up from her book, catching him with an unlit cigarette between his lips, lighter clutched in his hand.

“Had a conversation with Stechner,” was all he needed to say. She hummed in understanding. Stechner had become a staple of his angry rants to her about work and he’d become a center of her jokes where she’d curse “fucking Stechner” whenever anything went wrong in their day.

“Fucking Stechner,” she cursed as he predicted, making him smile halfheartedly before parroting “Fucking Stechner” back at her. He was bringing too much of his work back home. But she still found him acceptable enough to keep around, beckoning him with her index finger. He followed, walking away from the open window to where she sat on the sofa. He tried to sit, but she stretched her legs out on the sofa before pulling him away from the seat by his hands.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she simply smiled before she began unbuttoning his shirt.

“I have to say, you look really good in a white shirt and slacks. Like a conventional office worker.”

“Huh. Fucking hate it. And the stupid SUV. I need my jeep back. Not this stupid little—” he sighed and pushed his hair out of his forehead. “Sorry, I’m just… It’s this job— it’s different. I can’t be on the field like I used to be anymore. I have to send other guys, trust that they won’t fuck up. Duffy and Lopez ended up on the news and I had to take responsibility for their shit.”

“Aww honey,” she cooed, her voice so soft it melted away some of the tension in his muscles. “Maybe this is why Noonan and Messina were always pissed at you and Steve. Because they had to face the fire after you broke the rules.”

“You’re saying it’s karma?” He asked, finally lighting the cigarette. When the first puff filled his lungs, his hand finally stopped its restless fidgeting. He was never going to be able to quit at this rate.

He kept his eyes away from her, easy to do as he stood while she was sitting. He was afraid that if he looked, he’d see disappointment. She never suggested that he quit or even demanded it of him. She had every right to demand it, especially now. She never asked for shit. It should make him feel at ease, but the more he messed up and she went without fighting him on it, the worse he felt. He knew how to defend himself against anger— he would make excuses, tell her he couldn’t quit when his job was so stressful again. But she said nothing, just offered kindness and slipped a strip of nicotine gums into his suit pocket when he dropped her off at work in the morning. What was he meant to do with supportiveness?

The second puff tasted bitter in his heart and he quickly put it out on the glass top of their coffee table as he’d gotten rid of his ashtray in a bout of enthusiasm over quitting.

“Good boy.”

He snorted. Good? He went two weeks without smoking and now that they were in Colombia, he was right back to the terrible habit.“That was my fifth cigarette today.”

“Used to be seven a day on average. You only took two puffs of this last one…and I know you’ve been very stressed lately. Good boy,” she said, pulling him down to her by his hand. Guided by her hand, he knelt down by the sofa.

“It’s a shit habit.”

“It is,” she agreed, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “You’re an impatient man, Javier. You want everything to happen immediately. Cut yourself some slack, acknowledge that you’re doing better now than you were doing last month. If you feel shit about where you’re at in your journey to quit your smoking habit, you’ll just feel worse and quitting won’t feel worth it anymore.”

He nodded, knowing she was right. But it didn’t stop him from feeling like shit. He placed a hand on her knee, his thumb caressing a scar she’d gotten from a childhood fall in the playground. He traced the shape of it, and visualized the shape without even having to take another look at it. A new body every night used to be fun but now, he needed the familiar terrain of her body. He needed to know that when he made his way up her thigh, he would go past that mole, that when he buried his face in her neck he would smell the scent of her coconut shampoo.

“Alright… since you’re already on your knees…” she trailed, smiling suggestively as she threaded her fingers through his hair.

“Ask you to marry me?” He squinted, feigning innocence. It was fun to pretend when he knew exactly what she was asking for.

“Well, don’t be too confident with that. Just because I said yes once doesn’t mean I’ll say yes again,” she teased, the back of her hand grazing his cheek.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. My back hurts and I threw up right after I woke up and it’s all your fault. So, I’m not so enthusiastic about you anymore.”

“I’m sorry…” he said, pulling her shorts down her legs. He started with her belly, placing a kiss on it as it’d become customary of late. There was no visible difference in her yet, nothing apparent, but it felt good to acknowledge it with small affections. He had to quit his habit soon. He shouldn’t be smoking around her. While she chose to build a life with his sorry ass, shit habits and all, this baby didn’t and it would be the wrong example to set for it.

“Don’t say sorry. Show me how sorry you are,” she said, guiding him by his hair between her legs. Laughter bubbled over from his chest and he pushed her legs apart, settling himself comfortably between them.

“Si, Jefa.”

_______

Tag list: @harriedandharassed @cowboychickenlittle

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[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Apple pie

part 1

part 2

my angels! sorry i’ve been so busy i’ve been so excited to post this for you guys and am actively writing chapter four as WE SPEAK. thank you guys again sm for 600 followers ugh i cry. MUAH.

DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.

Warnings: Talks about sex and mentions of hookups, mentions of yelling and crying, slight obsessive and stalking behaviors, just tons of angst- enjoy it.

Word count: 2,307

Days turn into weeks; weeks turn into a month. A month of you not even seeing Leon. You shouldn’t have grown attached to him in only three days, but what did he expect? You didn’t know if you were angry or if you were just sad. You now felt anger daily walking up the sidewalk to see his yard dying. He’s home, that’s the thing. All of his windows are now covered with black curtains. And it made you so.. angry.

He knew how to press your buttons too—pulling his curtains open and popping open his windows right before he left for his long night out. Listening to his Jeep pull out of his driveway, then come back hours later, the sound of him and some random woman laughing. Your eyes peered over your book as you watched Leon and said woman walk into his house, and before they even reached the bedroom, he was tugging at her sweater, her hands holding his chest. Stupid motherfucker. His eyes open as he sloppily kisses the woman, looking at you through the window as his shirt gets tugged off. The way his jaw fucking moved as he hungrily kissed the black-haired woman back. You’ve never stood so fast, trying to make it seem like you didn’t care as you closed your blinds. At least trying to sleep, shoving your pillow into your ear at the exaggerated cries and moans coming from Leon’s house.

But even though it hurts, you still get that aching feeling for him. To make him another pie or even a whole dinner and just knock on his door, apologize? You would say sorry if it meant you could see him smile again. And since it’s just shy of May, your strawberries are blooming. You knew they were coming in, and it gave you some joy for the first time in a while.

You woke up so early this Saturday morning, getting the small black basket sitting by your sink and running outside, a loud squeal of joy leaving your lips at the bright red strawberries. At least 15 of them too. Your fingers carefully tugged at the small stems, putting all of them into your basket. You let them sit in the vinegar bath for an hour, then run them over ice-cold water and put them in the freezer for exactly an hour so they’re cold and just a bit crisp. You stare down at your notepad as you lean against the counter, quickly writing

“I hope everything is going well! With love, your neighbor.”

You bite your lip as you stare at the basket of perfect strawberries before grabbing them and walking out your door. Your lawn is your pride, staring at your flowers before you walk down the sidewalk and up Leon's driveway. You stare at his door for a while, your hands gripping the basket in your hands as you regret your decisions. Maybe turn back while you can. He obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Yet you want to talk to him. Your knuckles meet the door, your breathing stops as you just stand there. You stand there for a while too, looking around the porch before your eyes squeeze shut as you bend over, laying the basket on his welcome mat and walking back to your house.

———————————-

Leon jogs every morning, and it’s the perfect excuse to stare at your house without seeming like a weirdo again. His breathing labored as he slowed his jog as he hit your yard, his eyes looking at the strawberry bush to see that they finally bloomed and you had picked them. He couldn’t help but feel happy- happy knowing you had something to make you smile. He knew you’d been waiting on them for a while.

When he finally gets home, his breath steadies as he pulls the water bottle from his fridge, taking a long drink.

Then there’s a knock on the door. His head turns towards his entryway, listening to the knock echo through his hallway. Maybe it’s the mail? He would be happy even to see his boss. His footsteps are quiet and careful as he walks to the door, his body carefully leaning against it as he peers out the peephole.

Fuck.

You’re just standing there, strawberries in hand as you glance around his porch. His chest grows tight as you go to knock again but stop yourself, resting the strawberries on his welcome mat. He wanted nothing more than to swing open the front door and ask how you’d been. How’s work? How’s your garden? His eyes close as he presses his forehead against the door, he reaches over, pushing his black curtain aside as he watches you shut your door.

And he immediately swings his front door open, grabbing the small basket and shutting the door yet again. He sets them on his dining room table, his fingers grazing where your hands once held at the small handles. His eyes skim over the note, the little heart you put at the end. Yet he grabs it, crumbles it up and throws it away.

—————————————-

You gave him all your strawberries; you didn’t even try any yourself. This made your eyes water, the familiar wetting of your cheeks making you immediately rub at your skin. The noise of your house phone ringing makes you jump, your sniffling stopping as you slowly walk to the kitchen, pick up the phone and press it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“They were good. Would’ve made a perfect pie.”

Leon’s voice rings through your ears, your eyes immediately shooting towards his house, but disappointment shades your face as you see his curtains closed.

“Yeah, they were perfectly ripe. I'm glad you enjoyed them.”

Leon’s hand tapped at his window seal, staring at the empty basket of strawberries on his dining table.

“My lawn is dying.”

Leon’s chuckle makes your heart flutter as you nod your head, a small laugh leaving your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, I noticed actually.”

Your laugh makes his heart flutter.

The silence on the line is painful. Listening to Leon’s soft breaths on the other end.

“Goodnight.”

Leon’s voice sounded so friendly as he smacked the phone down. His breath increases before he grabs the small black basket, throwing it against his wall.

—————————-

You’ve been working too many extra shifts. The doubles turn into triples, sleeping on your breaks and downing black coffee. You get maybe four hours of sleep before you’re up again, throwing your hair up and dotting concealer under your eyes so you don’t look as dead.

Leon notices this new routine too, watching you run out the door at five in the morning, speeding down the street. When he finally sees your car out of view, he steps down his porch, his shoes crunching against the dying grass of his lawn as he walks over to yours. The grass was drying out and your flowers looked sad. Leon stared at the bushes for a few seconds before he walked over to your hose, twisting at the small handle before filling up your watering pot. He somewhat knew how you watered your plants, somewhat. After filling the pot, he let the hose spill water into your dying grass before carefully pouring the water over your bushes, making sure to get the roots and the dirt first and slowly make his way up the flowers.

When he finished, he ran his finger over one of the leaves, nodding before he placed your pot back, tangling up your hose once more and going back inside.

Leon did this for two weeks. Noticing that you were finally slowing down on shifts, he stopped; his black curtains draped open as he watched you step out into your lawn in the morning, staring confusedly at your plants. You knew they probably should be dead right now, your eyes narrowing at the healthy flowers.

—————————-

It couldn’t be Leon right?

Since it was coming up Summer, you were shocked Leon hadn’t been pulled out of town yet. He hasn’t been leaving much though, and when he did come back you always wanted to run out of the house to help him up his porch but his random women always seem to help him just fine.

Saying Leon wasn’t handsome would be the biggest lie. Lightning would come down from the sky and strike you. A quick google search also gave you maybe a bit too much information about him- pictures of him with the president, or him getting awards pinned to his chest, his name on memorial blocks, and way too much more. How have you never heard of him? The man has conspiracy rants about him online.

It made you even wonder if he did work for the local PD. You stared at your phone on the wall, biting at your nails with your laptop in your lap. You’re almost a whole bottle of wine deep? Why can’t you feel it? Your eyes went from reading the king article to scanning for your clock at the sound of pounding at your door.

Midnight?

This isn’t a bad neighborhood.. you felt your stomach steep as you looked around but you had no sort of self-defense mechanism at all. Maybe call Leon?.. No, no, don't call Leon. Now you really felt that wine as you stood up, tripping over yourself a bit and catching yourself as you walked towards the door. Your fingers at the small window by your door and your heart sinks at the sight of Leon staring at your door, watching his chest rise before he pounds on the door again making you flinch before you swing it open, the man staring at you.

Before you could even speak, he groans out in frustration at the sight of you.

“You called the fucking police department to check my employment status?”

This isn’t the usual Leon voice, he sounds pissed off and he is. And it’s valid.

———————-

You may have been in your own world, dozing off to the thought of whatever the fuck you do.

Leon's heavy breath filled his room as he pushed himself into the girl below him, closing his eyes, refusing to look at her before there was a ring on his phone. When he throws it down putting it on do not disturb, he can’t help but almost scream out of frustration as he pulls out of the girl, walking to his phone.

“Hello?”

“Control your little neighbor pet, Leon. Guess who called the police station asking for you drunk as ever. You’re lucky I didn’t call your boss.”

Leon hung up so fast, staring at his wall as he mumbled to the girl on his bed to leave, listening to her shuffle her way out of his house. He pulled his pants up, buckling his belt and tugging his black t-shirt back on as he stormed out of his house, marching to your door.

———————————-

You just scoffed as you looked at Leon, your hand gripping your door as he just stared at you with his sharp eyes.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Leon shook his head at the smell of the wine on your breath, looking past you to see your laptop and wine on your couch. Leon pushed passed you, grabbing the laptop on your couch and holding it in his arm as he scrolled through your search history.

“Get out!”

You’ve been googling him for hours, pinning websites to your pin bar. Leon slammed the laptop shut, staring at you. Your eyes are so soft, tears threatening your eyes as you watch him. It’s only been three months and he was obsessed with you. You followed his lead, slowly driving yourself to become obsessed with him.

Everything he did was in your favor. When you were overworking yourself, he made a really special visit to the diner, threatening your dick of a boss to hire somebody else or he would face severe consequences. The weeds in your garden, changing his entire schedule to revolve around you.

Leon was so obsessed with the thought of you, living this life where you and him could be perfect. It’s an unrealistic and stupid thought- honestly, it was fucking insane, clinical. Yet he just knew he had to stay away. He felt like everything he touched crumbled below his fingers, and if you somehow slipped from him, it would break him.

Watching the way your eyes water made that familiar ache start to form in his chest. He handed you your laptop, his hands visibly shaking.

He was walking away from you- again. You felt the tears slip from your eyes and you screamed at yourself. Don’t cry, don’t let him show you how you affect him so horribly. He reached for the doorknob but you couldn’t help but watch his back as you quickly wiped your hands, grabbing at his arm.

“Leon please..”

Hearing your voice crack made Leon’s heart erupt into flames, his hands suddenly stopped shaking as he turned back to you, his face a bit softer as you let go of his arm, your eyes still glossy. Your cheeks that light shade of pink, your lips slightly parted. His head shook as he took a small step forward, grabbing at the sides of your face before he slammed his lips against yours. And the way your hands reached up, it made him want to stay so badly. To hold you the rest of the night, he gently pushed you, not enough to hurt you, just to make you stumble, still looking up at him. But before you could even look, he was gone, and the door slammed again in your face. Leaving you stranded in your quiet living room.

———————————————————————-

taglist!

@bimbo-baggins86 @karmasshit @cweampier @wh0islyuri @ovaryacted @arianna-irwynarn @smallp00ks @xxacademy @x4ver1a @cryptkillo @darthdidi

[daffi-990]

✨ Inspiration Saturday ✨

Tagged by @jesuisici33 and @911-on-abc. Thank you lovelies for the tag 😘

Today’s snippet is from the Rival Firefighters 🚒 fic and I’ve been having so much fun writing the chapter it’s in. I couldn’t resist making a moodboard for it either cos you know I love a good moodboard.

It’s been a long and hectic week and Eddie is extremely grateful it’s Shannon’s weekend with Chris. He loves his son and loves spending time with him, but Eddie is feeling so wound tight and needs to let off some stream in a not suitable for children kind of way. Halfway through the week he’d caved and opened up Grindr (he doesn’t usually use the app, preferring to make connections in person) and had matched with someone called Firehose. The name was a bit odd, but the guy was flirty and seemed fun and Eddie needed some fun. So they’d agreed to meet up Saturday night for drinks at a local club.

Eddie’s been to this particular club before so finding it isn’t a problem. It’s still early according to club going times, a little past 9:30 pm, so getting a car park is stress free which Eddie is grateful for. He hates not knowing a parking situation beforehand. He parks alongside a dark green jeep (or is it grey? He can’t tell in the crappy car park lighting and why is he focusing on the car’s colour anyway?) and does a quick check of his reflection in the rear view mirror before hoping out and making his way inside.

Firehose said he’d be at the bar and that he’d be wearing a dark grey short sleeved button down and that he was tall. Eddie hopes the guy isn’t one of those guys that says they’re 6 foot two but in reality are only 5 foot seven or something. Not that he’s opposed to short men, it’s just he prefers them tall and with enough muscle that he knows they could man handle him if he asked.

Eddie scans the bar and sees a guy that matches the description Firehose gave him. He can only see him from behind as the guy is turned in his seat watching a boisterous game of pool, but he’s very tall and his shirt is grey and stretching over a well muscled back. The guy’s hair is a dirty blond and looks to have been styled with something that has tamed his curls but has left his hair still looking soft. He has a sudden urge to run his hands through it. Maybe later. Eddie begins to move towards him and just as he’s about 3 feet away, the guy turns back to the bar and Eddie gets a side on view of his face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Firehose, no, Buckley, turns in his seat at Eddie’s remark, a wicked grin lighting up his stupid smug face as realisation of the situation dawns on him. Firehose. The name suddenly makes so much more sense. Of course the guy Eddie was supposed to be meeting up with tonight was Buckley.

No pressure tagging: @callmenewbie @hippolotamus @lover-of-mine @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @eddiediaztho @forthewolves @athenagranted @callaplums @captain-hen @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @rainbow-nerdss @try-set-me-on-fire @spotsandsocks @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @monsterrae1 and anyone who wants to play and has something they want to share -> consider this your tag ☺️

[fuji09]

Stiles having an emo phase. Think about it y'all.

He starts getting more and more black clothing, band tees and skinny jeans, he even starts wearing eyeliner. He starts getting piercings from the shady tattoo shop that doesn't id anyone. First it's only on his ears, but then he starts to get more bold. He gets a septum piercing, lip piercing, and then a tongue piercing. That's the one that pisses off his dad the most.

The sheriff screams at Stiles for being so reckless and stupid. He could have bled out if a vein was hit or get an infection! Stiles just smiles through it all, enjoying the rebellion. He's grounded for two weeks but it's worth it.

Scott isn't a fan of the music Stiles starts listening to. He isn't a fan of Stiles starting to smoke weed and cigarettes. Clearly his friend is trying to figure himself out and he wants to help so he's just there for him. Always encouraging when they go shopping and Stiles tries stuff on, helps Stiles learn how to apply eyeliner properly by watching YouTube videos. He even helps Stiles paint his nails black since Stiles can be a bit shaky and he doesn't want to mess it up.

Then Stiles starts going to the gay club Jungle to let loose and realizes he might not be completely straight. He starts experimenting with small touches, dancing, and once the alcohol loosens him up, he starts to grind and dry hump his dance partners. At one point he's got a guy behind him and a guy in front of him. They start touching him and his body is buzzing with arousal.

He starts to kiss one of the guys, slowly, languidly. The other guy kisses and bites at his neck. He realizes that yeah he is totally not straight, but not gay either. He's pretty sure he's bisexual.

He ends up getting his first handjob on the dance floor and it was amazing. Then later gives one of the guys he was dancing with a blowjob in the bathroom.

Stiles is on fire and he's so glad he wore his tighest skinny jeans that really makes his ass look good and a V-neck shirt that's practically painted on and shows off his collarbones now riddled with hickies. Then he sees Derek fucking Hale and it's like a bucket of ice water drenched him.

Derek looks pissed and now Stiles is worried that Derek is homophobic, or technically biphobic since Stiles is pretty sure he is bi. But Derek also seems kinda into Stiles' new look. He has a hungry look in his eyes like he wants to devour Stiles and holy hell would Stiles let him. Derek is the hottest guy he knows. But Derek still looks furious so Stiles is really getting some mixed signals here as they continue their stare down, neither wanting to be the first to look away.

So Stiles does the only thing he can think of, he runs. Stiles runs out of the club as fast as he can, gets in his jeep, and prays he's sober enough to drive because he'll take his chances on the road over his chances with Derek possibly killing him.

He makes it home, and can finally breathe again. He flops on his bed and lets his racing heart calm down. He has no idea how he can face Derek ever again, but he just hopes that the sourwolf won't out him. He wonders how much Derek saw, but he knows with his luck Derek saw everything.

[pocket-watcher]

Curious to know what you might cook up with the phrase "Face your fears head on."

While the scenario in my head wasn't hypnosis related, I wanted to see if there was a way to give it some sort of hypnotic spin

Hi anon! I think I know how to spin this!

Li was always in control, and that’s how he liked it.

He was his own boss, his own teacher, he cooked his own food (because who else could make it just the way he liked it), and he most definitely would never have picked this as an activity on the company retreat.

“Sandra, when I said we needed activities to help us grow as people I meant more meditation or a culture tour or literally anything fucking else.”

“That isn’t very professional, Li.” Sandra bit back, keeping her fake smile around the other employees.

“Screw professionalism, this is psychological torture.”

The man standing in front of them was Devon. Devon was some drugged-up hippie who was convinced he was “born in the wrong generation” and who Sandra had hired to help them all “face their fears head on”.

“Everyone please give Carly a big round of applause for facing her fear of water! You did so well.” Devon applauded, setting off the whole group.

Carly had managed to progress from the shallow end of the pool to the deep end in one afternoon. Jacob had stood up and presented infront of the whole group and made eye contact the whole time. Sandra had held a spider for 30 seconds. Fucking Todd Howers had even zip-lined.

All were easy fears to conquer. Li could swim, held meetings infront of 100+ people weekly, lived in Australia for 6 months, and back in college he went cliff diving to impress some German guy he dated for like two weeks.

So, why had he been hiding at the back of the group the past three days?

“Boss man! Looks like it’s your time to shine.” Devon’s chillaxed wave beckoned him to his doom.

“Sandra I’m not fucking doing this.” He swore under his breath, smiling and walking forward.

“Come on down. So, what do you think is your biggest fear?”

“Meetings with finance!” Todd fucking Hower called from the back of the group, sending a laugh through the crowd.

Li forced a laugh, “I guess it would have to be heights.”

A lie. No one here knew that though. Simple. Easy. He could fake a fear of heights for an hour or two and then be rewarded a brave hero when he came back to the group, cheap, plastic medal pinned to his $300 shirt.

“Heights! My man, you and I are going to take a little trip to the zip line me-thinks.” Devon’s laughter grated against Li’s ears.

The two headed over to the jeep and waved the group off as they retired back to the open bar.

“Alright, to the zip line!” Li feigned enthusiasm.

“Not so fast Boss man. Don’t think I don’t know you were lying. That’s why,” he put the car into park, “we’re not going anywhere.”

Devon locked the door to the car.

Li, keeping his cool, tried the door handle. The windows. Nothing.

“Okay… what is this.”

“This is your fear, man! A lack of control.” Devon turned in his seat to face Li.

“I told you. My fear is heights.”

“Sure it is, pal, now. Just let this wash over you. Fear is just our body trying to keep us from danger. You don’t think I’m dangerous, do you Boss man?”

Li did think this hippie who’d locked him in his car was indeed dangerous.

“Just relax. Deep breath in and out. Nice and chill…” Devon in his stupid surfer accent huffed out.

Li was fine. He didn’t fucking need to relax, okay? But the more time he spent staring at Devon’s idiotic breathing the more he synced up with the man.

In and out.

Deep.

Relaxed.

Huh, maybe it was kind of like meditation.”

“There you go! See, not so bad, huh?” Devon said with a laid-back smile.

Li felt a little lightheaded. He struggled to focus his eyes on Devon.

“Yeah… so are you going to unlock the door or…?”

“Nah, can’t let you go out wandering or anything with an altered state of mind.”

“Right, right - wait, what?!”

“Shhhhh… don’t you feel good right now? You just gotta give in and let the lack of control wash over you man.”

In and out.

Like waves rolling over a shore.

“I… I don’t know…”

“Come on, the company’s not going to implode if you’re not watching over them for five minutes. Just chill out here with me, yeah?”

Li’s head spun. The car was so warm and inviting. And Devon was hired by Sarah, so he must be trustworthy. Hm.

“Chill out with…”

“That’s it. Relax deeper. That brain of yours doesn’t need to be in corporate-mode right now, does it?”

“Nno…”

“Just let Devon take care of you, yeah?” The man leant Li’s car seat back.

Li let his eyes slowly close.

A while later, he returned to the others, shiny medal proudly piercing his imported cotton shirt. He smiled and recounted his triumph over the “zip line”.

He also finally gave Sandra that raise she’d been after. And agreed to let Carly lead that big project. And even shook Todd Hower’s hand proudly.

Devon waved goodbye to the group, proud of their progress, and especially proud of a certain control freak who now was simply, well… a freak.

[mistydeyes]

Some very American (and asshole) things about Graves

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: Phillip Graves is 1. an asshole and 2. very American so here's some headcanons about him.

pairing: Phillip Graves x himself (fucking narcissist)

warnings: SWEARING

a/n: lol I have a love hate relationship with Graves so this was fun to write (like I wanna kiss him but also punch him in his stupid pretty face)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

He was on the Homecoming and Prom Court in high school and he ATE THAT SHIT UP

He also was voted “Most Handsome” in his yearbook

Joined the Army purely because of the glory he saw in Top Gun (he picked a different branch because he couldn’t handle the Navy training)

Was pissed when he saw Glen Powell in Top Gun: Maverick

For weeks his Shadows heard him complain that they based the character off of him

Loves pickle back shots (whiskey followed immediately with pickle juice)—something Price finds revolting

One time, made his Shadows get him Chik-Fil-A because he was craving it abroad

Speaking of which, he’s such a pussy when trying new foods—any spice will immediately put this man on the toliet

Always smothers his food in ranch dressing

Cool ranch Doritos? RANCH. Pizza? EXTRA RANCH. Mac and cheese? RANCH MIXED IN!

“Happy Independence day, you colonizing fuckers!” he exclaims whenever he works with soldiers over the seas (and it just happens to be the 4th of July)

If he’s at home, just know he’ll be chilling in an American flag tank top from Walmart and drinking a Natty Light

Plus he’ll be launching fireworks all night long so hide your dogs

His home? You might ask. Well, picture a mansion tucked away in either Texas or Wyoming with that Western Cowboy aesthetic

Even though he’s very Mr. Americana, he secretly buys French perfumes and Italian suits (but will always stand by a “Made in America” tag)

Just looks like he has a good face routine but DOES NOT moisturize his body (if he does it’s because he’s getting laid and is ashy)

He heats up hot water in the microwave and uses one of those Lipton tea bags Ghost almost shoots him

Definitely competed in one of those “All you can eat hot dog” contests

Also proudly shows off his award winning “Wet T-Shirt contest” photos

“Sweet Home Alabama” can never be played for the 141, they get war flashbacks of Grave’s playing it prior to the Dark Water mission

Confident that he could’ve played a better Ken than Chris Evan’s in the new Barbie movie

Got one of those terrible barbed wire tattoos when he was fresh out of bootcamp to look cool to his new army brothers

Also just know if he wasn’t in the Army, he’d be going to the University of South Carolina and be in one of their top frats

But while in the Army, he used the fact that he would be deployed oversees to bring women (and his Tinder dates) in

Reusable bags? HAHA never for Graves, he doesn’t get why he has to bring one in or buy one for ¢15

Will either buy the stupid bag or carry everything in his arms like an idiot

I also just KNOW this man doesn’t recycle

When he goes to New England, he makes a big fuss on how they can’t make sweet tea

Finally, he just RADIATES Ford F-150 or a Jeep with no doors energy

[islandofarson]

why do we hate wyoming

i have MANY reasons to hate Wyoming actually thanks for asking

Too goddamned windy. Its too fucking windy

Adding onto the wind part, the weather is just so unpredictable. One minute it's 100° and the next it's hailing so hard you can't get out of your car and the yard is flooded

It's so barren. There's just sagebrush out there. Terrible.

Everything there just feels run down. It just had a very ghost town vibe. The entire state.

There's like, some random ass grave out in the middle of nowhere????? Just some guys grave, covered in cow shit. Not a huge thing but it still haunts me to this day. Weird ass grave.

Now onto the people. Too many conservatives out there. The target in Casper took out it's pride section because people kept giving them shit for it. I understand that people are allowed to have their own views but I'm pissed I wanted a pride shirt

I almost got hit by some white (I'm white too) douchebag in his stupid red truck and that just makes me upsetti pasghetti

Again, that grave??? Still haunts me I can't forget it

I get shipped up there every year for at least 3 weeks during the summer and I love my grandparents but they don't have ac and it's always like 80° in the room I sleep in

Wyoming actually isn't real

Again, the weather????? It was 80° and then it snowed overnight??? And we got trapped out in the middle of nowhere for an extra day??? Because even my grampa's Jeep got stuck in the snow?????

Just has a very weird vibe in general there's not a lot to do up there and I don't have any friends up there so it's just kinda lonely

Lots of anti-abortion signs just... In the middle of nowhere. 30 minutes driving down the 2 lane highway without seeing anyone else then out of the shadows... "CHOOSE LIFE 👶🦅🇺🇸" It feels very threatening

Again, just a very run down vibe and it scares me

My favorite ice cream shop in medicine now closed and I'm just really sad about that still

I have more reasons but there's some of them

[elslovers]

chapter one

BLOOD IN BLOOD OUT

synopsis: medical school is hard you knew it would be you prepared for the long nights and breakdowns you prepared to run off only coffee and will power for four years what you didn't prepare for was Abby Anderson you thought after graduation you would be done with her but first day of your internship there she is ready to give you hell...and maybe something more

a/n this is basically going to be greys anatomy tlou version im not sure this is gonna land with people but lord I hope so doctor abby eats so lets see how this go - also this is my first not standalone fic yay for me

you had always been a healer in one way or another, mending healing sick younger siblings back to health from a cold or nasty flu turned to taking care of your friend's hangovers after discovering to never vodka and tequila

you've spent your whole life healing people mending broken hearts and broken women, and mending parents and friends during the lows of their life it only made sense that you would dedicate your life to mending the pain of others its what you do best, and if you're being honest, you loved it at first, you thought you might want to be a vet at the ripe age of eleven. You decided you prepared the company of your pets to those around you (you still do) and thought fixing them might be a decent way to spend your adult life but the concept of seeing animals in any form of pain put you off your dinner then in middle school, you thought maybe a nurse you liked the idea of a hospital, the concept of working alongside brilliant doctors and helping save people's lives by realizing you only wanted to be a nurse because you thought you couldn't be the doctor and fuck that

college, you spent every second of every minute of every goddamn day proving you deserved to be one of the doctors, and after four years of grueling pre-med classes, you were confident you deserved to be one of the doctors then came med school, which knocked you flat on your ass. You didn't go to a shabby school for undergrad, but you ran circles around your peers there - common knowledge was that you were the one to watch, but med school was different you weren't running the circles alone Abby Anderson had been breathing down your neck and your ego from the moment you stepped foot into your first class - the first question your professor asked your two hands were the only ones to fly up

it was world war three ever since that day constantly an all-out battle as to who can bruise the other's ego more you hated her stupid notes and the way she was so above using an iPad like everyone else and was insistent on surviving med school with pen and paper for notes, only using her laptop when needed be you hated her attitude. Her father is a doctor, and she always acted like she was born with a scalpel in her hand, ready to cut she always acted so above you if you were being honest with yourself, Abby made you feel weak. She was tailor-made for this life. She was stoic and hard level headed and cool under pressure. She poked fun at all the things that made you you

she made fun of the way you doodled in the edges of your textbook she made fun of how you dressed 'like an overgrown toddler.' She would say every time you sported your colorful shirts or pants, your cardigans or fun shoes- the day you wore pigtails to a lecture was one of the worst of your years there Abby always quipped that you were better-suited teaching kindergarten than in the OR, and sometimes you started to believe her

in high school, mean girls were blondes with Jeeps and low GPAs, but in med school, the mean girl was a cut-throat soon to be doctor who almost beat you out for top of the class almost

graduation day came and when and you stood on that stage beaming ear to ear - your dress may have been pink, but you were the only one with a gold cord draped over your cap and gown so suck on that, Abby Anderson was the second name to be called and the relief that flooded your body was unexpected

it was over. She was gone, and you would never have to feel that big hand wrap around your shoulder just to tug at your ponytail you had finally gotten rid of Abby fucking Anderson and you existed blissfully with that thought all summer you'd accepted your internship at Jackson Hospital and after four miserable years of med school spent proving to yourself you deserve to be a doctor, you now got to spend the next four years of your life proving to yourself you deserve to save lives when your alarm echoed throughout the four walls of your one-bedroom apartment, it felt like a gift

today was the first day of the rest of your life

it was a fresh start - a clean slate and nothing in this world could knock you off your high at least you thought

the light blue scrubs felt like a second skin right off the bat, and with your hair in a pink clip and two cups worth of coffee In your travel mug, you gathered around the other interns and spotted the only thing that could ruin your day a honey blonde braid hanging idly down the pack of the one person who could make you regret even waking up that morning

fucking Abby

Abby had a special gift for making you feel small, always pointing out the things you love about yourself as if they were the worst flaws she'd ever seen

it blew your mind to think your first impression of her was that she was stunning

"you have got to be kidding me" You meant it to sound firm and harsh, but you know it came out weak

you watched, gawking as Abby turned roughly on her heels to tower over you properly

this was going to be a nightmare

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to say Abigail Anderson was meant to be a surgeon would be the understatement of the year

where you were born to heal

Abby was born to cut

her father was a healer,

but what she lacked in his warmth she made up for in discipline. Abby was controlled. She was hard-working. She knew what she wanted from the moment she was old enough to vocalize it and she spent every moment of every day working toward it. It would be admirable if she was humble about it but Abby was cocky, and she knew it

she was always the one to beat all throughout her life she spent most of her young childhood inside the walls of Jackson Hospital, absorbing every ounce of knowledge her mind could, and by the time she hit high school, she was a well-oiled goddamn machine Abby lived and breathed medicine, and although out college, every move she made had the sole purpose of bringing her closer to the goal - to the one thing she was made to do it is needless to say, Abby never had many friends. That's not to say she had none. Every overachieving perfectionist can attest that various social clubs help fill the void

Abby was president of the debate team Vice President of Model UN, captain of the girl's basketball team, and an active member of the gay, straight alliance per her father's request (begging) who often worried Abby didn't surround herself with 'people on your team' as he father would put it over breakfast most mornings

Abby had people but Abby was alone. She didn't play nice with others people who weren't on her level she found boring and impossible to converse with and people on her level (people like you) posed as a threat to the territory that was rightfully hers Abby walked confidently into med school posy undergrad, convinced no one could take the wind out of her sails until she met you

for every question asked you always seemed to have the answer a second faster for every quiz test or exam that she got an A on it always felt as though you got an A + she hated the way you showed her up and did so with a smile - did so with fucking pigtails

she hated how good you got and how kind you stayed she spent years convincing herself that the way she was is what it took to become bright that warm girls sweet girls girls who doodle and play nice don't become cut throat and that Abby was made to be cut throat

but there you were personified sunshine and holding a fucking dagger to her throat it seemed unfair so when you made her feel low Abby would make you feel lower she knew her teasing and taunts were pathetic and bordering on cruel but for four years taking the wind out of your sails put it back into hers

she would be a liar if she said tequila and late nights in her apartment didn't force her to think about how soft and broken your face looks when she teases you she would be a liar if she said those thoughts didn't want to make her stop but they just were never enough when she sobered up

after graduation all she could feel was relief sure you had one for a final time you pulling top the class out from under her would chase her down in her nightmares for years to come but she had the summer to nurse her pride and by the time day one of internship rolled around she was prepared to walk though the doors of Jackson hospital exactly what she was A legacy Abby was the second link in the chain of Anderson surgons in that hospital

her father was legend and now she could follow it up build her own reputation of excellence she like he had always intended when she gathered around the other interns sipping on her coffee as they all spoke in hushed whispers about how she was the daughter of THE dr Anderson she was confident nothing could bring her down until she heard your voice small and weak and taunting as she whips around her braid nearly hitting someone in the face

"oh come the fuck on" she hissed feeling the anger rising right to her cheeks

this was going to be a nightmare

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Damage Gets Done - SAS: Rogue Heroes x OC - Chapter 9

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |-| Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Summary: As the group returns from the raid on Benghazi, Diana is forced to confront the secrets she's kept from Paddy

Relationships: L Detachment x Platonic!OC, eventual Reg Seekings x OC

Warnings: Language, mentions of death, angst

Word Count: 2.5k

Tags: @20th-centu-fairy-girl @trenchenjoyer @dcyllom @footprintsinthesxnd @regseekings

A/N: Sorry this one's a little shorter than usual! I was originally going to include this part at the end of the previous chapter, but it got too long so I decided to separate them. Enjoy!

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Exhaustion tugged at Diana's eyelids as the jeeps rolled into their rendezvous point, the familiar figure of Mike Sadler lounging tiredly beneath a makeshift shelter, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched them approach. She was jolted sharply awake by the sudden ceasing of the engine's constant hum, a noise she had grown accustomed to over the past few hours, and hurried to re-button her shirt, her makeshift camouflage now nothing more than a frankly embarrassing memory.

But Mike was not the only figure awaiting their arrival. Over by the car stood a woman, dressed sharply with a pair of designer sunglasses to shield herself from the glaring light. Diana suddenly recalled her first day in the SAS camp - had she truly looked as out of place then as this woman did now? The idea almost embarrassed her. But the woman's presence immediately raised a million questions in her mind - questions none of the gawking men around her seemed to share.

Men. Pathetic.

"There's a rumour going around in Cairo that Winston Churchill's son went on a mission behind enemy lines with the SAS," The woman spoke, fanning herself with the brim of her hat as she approached. Scanning Stirling's face, Diana could tell he recognised her. Actually, the more she looked, she wasn't entirely sure she didn't recognise the woman.

On her right, Reg let out a low whistle, staring unashamedly at their new visitor. Diana raised a brow, shooting him a disapproving look, which he didn't seem to notice. That stung. That stung far more than she had expected, and that was... concerning. She wasn't supposed to give a shit when fucking Reg Seekings of all people looked at another woman like that.

But he'd looked at her like that. And maybe she'd been stupid enough to think she was the only one who got that look. Maybe she even cared that she wasn't.

And the more she stood there, the more she was sure she had seen this woman before. "Sorry-" Diana interjected, suddenly realising the others had been halfway through a conversation when the entire group's gazes fell upon her. "Have you been in my house?"

"I have," She nodded, a slight smile curling her lip. "I've spoken with your father on a few occasions - he's one of the only senior officers I can count on to stay in one place."

Diana smiled, nodding. That was her father alright - a nester if ever she'd seen one. He'd lived in Cairo all her life, but she wasn't confident he could navigate beyond the end of their street. The woman held out her hand, and she received in, introducing themselves in turn. She could feel Churchill's gaze boring into the back of her skull, and could tell he was irritated at his meeting with yet another good-looking woman being interrupted.

As her hand was released, she sidestepped towards the Prime Minister's son. "Chin up, Randy. 0 for 2 isn't too bad when we're both out of your league," Diana spoke with a tone of mock sympathy. "I'm sure there'll be a whole fleet of boring little posh-o's with a history of inbreeding in the family for you to choose from once you get home."

He looked nothing short of horrified, face turning bright red, visible even under the layer of sunburn. She let out a snort, patting him on the shoulder and turning away. Making the man squirm was one of the small joys in life, and Diana cherished her chances.

But when she turned, the sight before her almost stopped her in her tracks. Reg had since discarded his shirt, arms raised in a not-so-subtle attempt to show off his muscular build as he continued to stare blatantly at Eve, giving Diana not so much as a second glance. Before her mind had quite had time to register whether her actions were altogether reasonable, she had reached down, grateful for the loose laces on her boot as she tugged it off. Standing awkwardly on one foot so as not to fill her sock with sand, she took a swing and lobbed the shoe straight at Seekings, striking him in the side.

It had not been a hard throw, but enough to elicit a yelp from the man, who stared back at her with an expression of equal parts outrage and confusion.

"What the fuck-?"

"Put your fucking shirt back on," Diana frowned. "Making us look bad, ya creep."

"Fucking Christ," Reg muttered, rummaging for a replacement shirt as he eyed her remaining boot with unease.

"And give me my shoe back," She demanded, leg raised like some kind of enraged flamingo. Seeking chuckled, shaking his head in a wordless reply, holding her boot by the laces as he began to walk further out of her reach.

"Reg? Reg?" Diana prompted, gesturing dramatically at her bare foot as Cooper noticed the situation, beginning to laugh along. Eve, along with Stirling and Churchill, had moved far enough away to continue their business without being disturbed, but she found she had little choice other than to hop after him, suddenly regretting her impulsive act of aggression.

"Oh, you shit," She called, tearing off her remaining shoe with as much zeal as she had the first, throwing the second with greater force as it collided with Reg's back. If it had hurt, he hadn't shown it, for he was too amused at the sight of her standing there in her socks upon the sand, already grimacing at the feeling of it between her toes.

"Well, what are you gonna do now?" Seekings laughed, the corners of his eyes creasing as he held out the shoes to her like she were some dog failing at fetch.

"Fuck!" Diana cried, her dismayed expression suddenly turning to a grin as Cooper swooped in from behind, snatching the boots from Reg's grip in the second that he was caught off guard. She gasped, chuckling at Seekings' stricken expression as he tossed them over, scrambling to catch them before they hit the sandy ground below.

"Johnny, my darling, someday you'll make some girl very happy," She said, craning her leg at an awkward angle as she tugged the thick leather back over her heels. Cooper batted a hand at her, wordlessly wandering off, but she noticed a spattering of red across his cheeks accompanying his boyish grin. Reg frowned, turning around and almost walking straight into a jeep when Diana smirked back at him.

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For the remainder of the trip back to Jalo, Diana kept her feet propped up on the dashboard beside Stirling, attempting to get the sand out of her socks. He complained frequently, but in the months they had known each other David had long since grown accustomed to her complete disregard for what he did or didn't want her to do. Frankly, he was just glad she wasn't driving.

"You're flicking sand on me," He droned, eyes on the horizon as they led the small convoy behind them.

"You're annoying," Diana retorted, shaking out one of her socks as she flexed her toes, making him grimace.

"Very mature, thank you."

"You're welcome," She replied sweetly, and he caught a glimpse of her smile in the crooked rearview mirror. Dammit. No matter what she did, he could never quite hold a grudge. Stirling found himself wondering if he would have liked to have had a sister growing up. Although, he wasn't sure he could have coped living with Diana every day, especially not in the more petulant days of his youth.

It was silent for a long moment, but he could feel her gaze boring into the side of his face. "Whatever you're about to do, don't."

The sudden feeling of her finger in his ear made Stirling yelp, and Diana let out a loud snort, laughter erupting like a bubble from her throat. "Stop acting like a child or I swear I'll crash this jeep," He barked, attempting to sound authoritative but sounding altogether far too alarmed, succeeding only in making her laugh harder.

"You think the pair of us dying in a horrible crash is an appropriate punishment for that?"

"I'll probably enjoy it the same amount," David stated, beginning to chuckle himself as Jalo came into view up ahead. "Do not tell the others you just did that," He sighed.

"Think it'll undermine your authority, eh?"

"I find you do little else, Diana," Stirling smiled sarcastically at her, pulling up the handbrake as they rolled to a stop outside the oasis.

She grinned, taking her feet off the dashboard and straightening up as the pair got out of the car, matching frowns tugging at their expressions as they noticed the new French troops lounging about in the sun chairs, flipping through newspapers and sipping on their booze.

"What the fuck..." Stirling muttered.

"They're definitely supposed to be training," Diana pointed out.

Beginning to march up the sandy slope towards the gaping hole in the wall they used as an entrance, Stirling called back to her over his shoulder. "You're in charge for the next thirty seconds until I get back."

Planting her hands on her hips, she let out a snort. "Promotion. Nice."

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By the time he returned, blustering and pissed off, Diana had taken to staring at the tent pitched just beyond the boundaries of their little territory, the canvas blowing slightly in the breeze, a recently shot gazelle strung up over a wooden frame like the hunting trophies her father used to collect.

She hadn't even had to ask what the situation was when Stirling returned - if she knew anything at all about Paddy, she could figure this one out. "He's not done shit since we left, has he?"

"What he has done is break bones, knock out teeth, and almost inspire a fucking mutiny," He fumed, brushing past her as he made an angered beeline for Mayne's tent. At the feeling of her hand grasping his shoulder he stopped, turning to look irritably back at her. "What?"

"I'll go. He doesn't like either of us but he respects me more than he does you."

Stirling raised a brow. "Are you sure about that?"

"In fairness, it's a low bar," She nodded, patting him on the shoulder before taking his place in the march towards Paddy Mayne's makeshift sanctuary.

In the dim light of the tent, he lay down on his bunk, book propped up against his chest as he read in silence. He somehow looked even worse than he had the last time she saw him, covered in dirt and dust, his hair greasy and his beard matted. Diana didn't bother waiting for an invitation, grunting as she crouched down to sit on the floor, stealing the half-empty bottle of whiskey from beside his bed.

Paddy hadn't looked up from his book when he spoke. "So. How'd it go."

"Blew up a car," She spoke, pulling out the cork with her teeth. "Tore a hole through a building, probably killed a dozen men, didn't stay to find out. Beat up a guy in an alley though - scratched his eyes so bad he couldn't see."

He let out a grunt that could've almost been a laugh, putting the book down, open against his stomach. "Buildings don't count for the tally."

"You know I never gave a fuck about that," Diana shrugged, taking a sip of the whiskey. "I do care about this though," She gestured to the tent around them. "About you not doing your job - beating the shit out of those French wankers."

"They deserved it."

"Fucking probably, doesn't mean you get to do it. D'you think I'd be here if I broke the ribs of everyone I met who deserved it? They'd give me the fucking death penalty," She chuckled, almost passing the bottle back to Mayne before rethinking it.

He smiled then, a sliver of teeth showing. After a pause, Paddy spoke. "Why'd Stirling send you, then? Scared to deal with his own problems as usual."

"He was gonna come - I stopped him. Figured you and I could have a more productive conversation."

"And why the fuck did you think that?"

"Because, unlike Stirling, I don't feel threatened by you."

"Oh, bullshit, yes you do."

Diana's brow furrowed, her frown creasing her cheeks. "No. I don't."

Paddy's head lolled to the side, his gaze finally meeting hers. "Then why won't you talk about Eoin?"

She almost choked, a held breath stoppering her throat and making her feel the need to gag. No one had mentioned Eoin's name to her, not since it had happened. Those that had been there knew what she'd been through and left it alone. Those that hadn't didn't know enough to ask her about it. Until now.

"You don't need to know about what happened to Eoin," Diana spoke, her voice meek, barely above a whisper.

His brow furrowed angrily. "You don't get to fuckin' tell me what I do or don't need to-"

"No, no!" She pushed, holding up a hand to silence him. "Let me speak. What I mean is you - specifically you - don't need what happened to him stuck in your head..." In the dim light of the tent, Paddy could still spot the beginning of a tear welling in her eyes. "I know what you went looking for out in the dunes, Paddy, and I know you didn't find it."

He sucked in a sharp breath, the air hissing as it was dragged through the gap in his teeth. "I think you should leave now."

"I didn't tell you about what happened because I blamed myself. And I was scared of what would happen if you did too."

No one spoke for a long time, the desert wind whistling through the gaps in the canvas, the open tent flap swinging back and forth with a repetitively smacking sound as it collided with the outside. The whiskey bottle was tucked between Diana's knees, but she didn't reach for it.

"Weren't your fault." He uttered. She looked up at him with those big, brown, sad eyes of hers, and he almost wanted to hit her. Paddy had never known how to deal with sad people. "Maybe you'll never tell me what happened, but-"

"One day I will."

"But, I know it wasn't your fault."

Diana sniffed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. "Yeah," She nodded. "Yeah... thank you."

Paddy nodded, picking up his book and resuming his reading. She almost laughed, pushing herself up onto her feet.

"Y'know... you're gonna have to apologise to the French."

"Oh, fuck off - you know I won't."

Diana chuckled. "I do. But now I can tell Stirling that I told you to, so it's not my fault when you don't."

The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. She turned to leave, pausing in the opening of the tent. "Oi."

"Aye?"

"... Wanna go cook the gazelle?"

Paddy took a long pause, thinking this over. After a prolonged moment of silence, he tossed the book aside, pushing himself to sit up with a grunt.

"May as well. Not giving that Jordan prick any, though."

She smiled. "We'll see."