#i fucking told that fucker i was grateful for him

[mccoys-killer-queen]

Seeing Kix's last ever live show Part 2- the show

So yes, I drove 3 hours to Columbia, MD just to get my heart brutally torn to pieces and left in the rain. By the time Kix actually came on the alcohol i chugged started to hit (it took like an HOUR) and it made me wanna scream at all the photographers to go fuck themselves

TL;DR- it was underwhelming?

they opened with Atomic Bombs- which was bittersweet I guess but I love it when they open with Hot Wire the most

seeing Ronnie made me so happy

since my seat was literally as far to stage left as you could go, the concrete steps were right next to me, as was a rail, and i could stand on the concrete and hold onto the rail and go nuts

that is until a security person told me to stop fgeoirngerngfdnd

in the moment i had fun but as soon as the moment was over it was back to heartache

Steve never opened up his shirt which was disappointing

when they did Midnite Dynamite there were BIG COLUMNS OF FIRE ??? SHOOTING OUT FROM THE HUGE HIGH UP PLATFORM THEY HAD ?? I was at least 30-40 feet away from it and i could FEEL THE HEAT

same thing goes for huge spark fountains (except for the heat part)

they did three medleys of obscure songs (but I'm gonna be honest I didn't recognize most of them)

the first medley, they did Body Talk and as soon as they started playing it, Steve stuck his finger down his throat like he was trying to make himself puke from hearing it rtgnnsadiofifearf

every medley was basically Steve judging the songs on whether he likes them or not it was funny

seeing the girl money glasses for the last time ugh concerts will never be the same if they're not kix

Steve always leads up to Scarlet Fever with "this song is about dirty diseases" or something like that, and he said something about "you gotta wear a condom to not get those diseases but condoms are no fun right they're just not fun"

the Itch and the crowd singalong and Steve always picking on people never ever fails to crack me up

when they played For Shame, Steve walked into the crowd and walked around and shook people's hands and gave hugs and stuff and the second he started singing while doing this i fucking lost it and tears were running down my face it was so bittersweet it was like he was trying to thank every individual person

idk why I always forget about Cold Shower when it's like the sluttiest of all slut songs

Ronnie did the guitar solo leading up to Cold Blood and I'm sorry Ronnie but I'm used to Bob and I like Bob's solo better but seeing Ronnie finally in the place where he was supposed to be this whole time was bittersweet

big balloons falling from the ceiling

confetti cannons and one not going off until the next song

Steve doing more jumping than normal during Blow My Fuse

i wish Steve did the full feature length Yeah Yeah Yeah monologue

^^that was their last song

i always forget how much steve says "aiight"

when their set was done, Steve introduced some people in their crew and management

when everyone walked offstage, and really only steve was left, he imitated Porky Pig and went "t-tha-th-that's all, folks!" and left the stage.

imo the setlist could've been a lot better bc a lot of their hard-hitters were cut (like Hot Wire, Same Jane, Kix Are For Kids, Sex, etc) but i guess the medleys were more important. The show also felt really short? It was under 2 hours and imo the whole thing felt really underwhelming, like I was expecting a huge extra long super exciting show but this was like... below average? Like yeah there were more stage effects and two guest members and three medleys but- it just didn't make it feel any more special than a normal Kix show, yknow? It almost felt like they were in a hurry to finish (the set feeling quick made it feel like this, not their actual performance. In fact- this entire rushed retirement seemed like they were in a hurry to retire...).

I don't know if it's because I wasn't at the barrier like I always am for Kix or the fact I had my heartbreak on pause or what, but to me it just felt really underwhelming? I went back to my hotel afterwards feeling similar to how i felt in my hotel after the last night of M3; dumped.

I'm still in shock that it's all over, and that it ended this way- with absolute silence and a soul-crushing shame. I can't ever forget the fun I've had with Kix over the past year, though. I just wish to god it had ended differently.

EDIT: I was trying to kill Mark with my mind last night. Tried to shoot lasers from my eyes. When he walked offstage he walked in my direction and I glared at him as hard as I could. I knew he couldn't see me, let alone recognize me, but he was looking in my direction.

EDIT #2: after steve walked through the crowd and went back on the stage, he said "that was fun. i hope none of yall have herpes *wipes hand on his shirt* I got that when it first came out!!"

#concert log #concerts #kix #i told that motherfucker mark i would always be there for them and that i'd always be in their debt too #i fucking told that fucker i was grateful for him #i fucking told him he meant a lot to me #god i feel like a fucking fool #i don't know how i'm ever gonna have the balls to ask people for passes now #i feel like my creative soul has been contaminated and my heart's literally gone missing #i feel this massive hole in my chest where my heart should be and it hurts so fucking bad #like for fuck's sake mark look what you've done to me #i need my heart back

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD pt 3

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), perv!Joel, dark!Joel, dark!reader, dubconned!Tommy, mention of f!oral, mention of mfm, fingering, semi public, cum eating, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, alcohol consumption, swearing, reader wears makeup.

Summary: Joel and Tommy take you out and things get heated.

Word count: 5,8k

A/n: it took me longer than I planned but pt 3 is finally here. I really hope you’ll like it! Kisses and hugs to everyone who has given love to the series💖 I’m very grateful!! Special thank you to @milla-frenchy for the support! Ily baby❤️

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST

*****

You’re sitting at your vanity putting final touches to your makeup. Butterflies are dancing in your stomach and your pussy is tingling as the anticipation of the night electrifies your nerves.

You can’t believe that it’s finally going to happen. You’ve been imagining it for so long. Every holiday, every family visit to your college, every time you saw your stepdad the desire for him ignited your core. You imagined him taking you in your bed, claiming your pussy under the secrecy of the night. You wished he would send your mom to hell, close the door in her face and take you in your dorm room. You dreamt of him fucking you on your desk and making you squirt all over the books. You’ve craved that cock and the man attached to it for so long and today you’re finally going to get it all.

***

“Can you hurry up?” Joel’s booming voice startles you and your hand jerks making your eyeliner too thick. “Tommy’s waiting at the car and getting on my nerves, fidgety fucker.”

You see your step uncle’s reflection in the mirror and exclaim not turning to him, “Fuck! Stop creeping on me! Go away!”

Despite your words you quickly check him out through the mirror. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a cardigan with the lowest V neck you’ve ever seen. Your mouth waters when you see his naked chest.

The man curses and steps into your bedroom shutting the door behind him. You turn swiftly, raising your hand in a stop gesture.

“No. Get out! You’re not coming on my face again. I just did my makeup,” you turn back to the mirror and start fixing your ruined eyeliner barely moving your lips to talk, “tonight is about Tommy and me anyway.”

“In love with your stepdad. Fuckin’ hell!” Joel chuckles, walking to your bed. He sits down and places the elbows on his thighs. His voice gets serious, “I want you to remember what you promised me, angel. No back outs.”

“I’m not in love, Joel. Just wanna fuck him. I’m gonna do everything the way we planned, ok? I can’t believe he’s still talking to you. After what you’ve done.”

Joel rubs his beard hiding a smile. “Told him you wanted to find out if he’d fuck you and I obliged. Then I just made big eyes ‘What?! She recorded it? No way! What a bitch!’ He ate it up,” he adds, looking pleased with himself.

You finally turn to him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Oh, so he thinks you’re innocent?!”

“Tommy knows that I’m far from innocent. But you…”, he points his index finger at you, “your stunt shocked him. His sweet stepdaughter, blackmailing him into fucking her.. Shit!” He adjusts himself and you lick your lips shooting a glance at his bulge.

You turn back to the mirror and silence fills the bedroom while you’re applying your lipstick. You feel Joel's heavy gaze on you until his gruff voice breaks it, “This color will look great smeared on my balls, baby.”

You scoff at his words but don’t say anything. You can’t deny that the desire to suck him off has been growing exponentially since the moment he slapped you in the backyard. Especially when you saw his fat cock that morning. Now you really want that bonus he promised stuffed into your pussy.

When the makeup is done you get up and walk to the bed. Your short black dress with sheer sleeves is laid out next to Joel who’s manspreading his thick thighs. His knee touches your bare leg and you step away furrowing your brows and whine, “Can you leave? I need to change.” Your voice lacks confidence as in reality you want him to stay and watch but it’s hard to admit that this man who looks more like a pimp than a contractor makes your pussy tingle.

“What’s the matter, angel? We’re family, no need to be shy around me.”

You roll your eyes and shift on your feet contemplating your next move. After a few moments your hands rise up to untie your robe. You open it not turning away from Joel and throw it off your shoulders fully exposing yourself. The robe pools at your feet as you’re looking at him with defiance.

Joel’s expression is serious and pensive. He takes you in like you’re an object on display in a shop window. You hold your breath fearing that any degrading comment thrown your way now might really hurt you. But a wave of relief washes over you when you see him breathe in sharply, lean back on his hand, spreading his legs wider and palming his bulge.

“What if I give you my bonus right now, angel. I feel generous.”

Triumph seizes you when you see the signs of his desire - your power over him. You have an upper hand and now it’s your turn to smirk.

“Don’t think so, step uncle. Need to ask my daddy first.”

You turn around and walk to the dresser hearing the man chuckle. You feel his gaze on your ass and push it out a little to give him a better view.

You open the top drawer and look through your panties and bras wanting to choose a perfect set for tonight.

You hear your bed creak and then the heat of Joel’s body warms up your bare back and ass.

“Want me to help you choose, angel? I know what my brother likes.”

“I was thinking this one,” you muse picking up a red lacy set and showing it to him.

“Fuck, it’s hot, baby. Suits you well. Slutty,” he comments and then leans lower, his lips are brushing your ear as he whispers, “but don’t forget your role, angel. You’re his innocent stepdaughter. He thinks he hates that he wants to fuck you but he fuckin’ loves it. He’s as twisted as me, just hides it.”

He raises his arms at your sides caging you between his massive biceps and searches through the drawer. He’s looking over your shoulder and when his hot wet exhale hits your naked breasts, your nipples get hard. He picks up a light pink mesh set, decorated with cute little white hearts.

“Wear this one and he’ll bust his nut as soon as he sees you”.

“I kinda need him to last,” you murmur but decide to follow his advice.

The thoughts are jumbled in your head as Joel’s low voice and hot breath on your naked skin are making you weak. You press your thighs together chasing any relief from the ache in your core. You feel cold air on your wet pussy. His bulge grazes the hollow of your ass and you bite your lip trying to swallow a whimper that is crawling up your throat.

“Yeah, it’s a good one,” you say, your voice soft and breathy. You want to take the lingerie from him but he doesn’t let you and pulls his hand away.

“I’ll help, angel.” You hear shuffling and turn around slightly to see him get on one knee behind you. He looks up at you, still dominant even in this position and your breath hitches.

Suddenly his hands grip your thighs and he turns you around. His face is so close to your pussy now your clit tingles and you gush more.

He drops his head and brings the panties to your feet. Your mouth parts with a surprise.

“Come on,” he hurries you and you step into the underwear, one foot and then the other. He hums with satisfaction and pulls them up, his hands brushing your legs and tickling your skin making it erupt in goosebumps. He notices your body’s reaction to his touch and stops his hands mid thigh looking straight at your pussy.

“Joel,” you whine as a sudden surge of shyness grasps you.

He seems not to hear. He leans closer to your mound and you gasp when his nose pushes into the spot just above your seam.

Then he plants a soft kiss on your mound and you take a deep breath as the desire overwhelms you. You want his mouth on you with fierce desperation, your mind is empty and only one thought is swirling through it, “do it do it, do it.”

You shut your eyes ready to drown in pleasure and hear his soft and seductive voice as his breath warms your skin, “Who’s gonna eat your pussy tonight, angel, me or your stepdaddy?”

You can’t help but imagine them both between your thighs and you moan dropping down your head and running your fingers through his hair.

To your disappointment Joel pulls the panties up and doesn’t stop until your pussy lips swallow the sheer fabric. It presses on your clit and you take a sharp breath as a surge of need ignites your core.

You lift one leg, brace your hand on the dresser behind you and put your thigh over his broad shoulder giving him a perfect view of your pussy. Then your hand darts to pull the material to the side and you bite your lower lip as his hot breath hits your wet skin. Joel growls and raises his eyes at you. His gaze is so dark the irises are hardly visible. You’re sure your pupils are as blown as his.

“Want uncle to lick your pretty pussy?” he asks softly but you hear a trace of mockery in his voice. Your need suffocates your pride and you answer him by gliding your foot up and down his muscular back.

He hums and leans closer to your center. You hold your breath in anticipation and run your fingers through his hair ready to tug on them when he finally eats you out. But you furrow your brows and blink in confusion when he presses his cheek to your folds and stills. “What are you..?”

Suddenly he moves his head up and down against your sensitive pussy rubbing it with his rough scruff. You cry out and jump back away from him.

“What the fuck, Joel?! It hurts!” you’re fuming looking at your burning folds while he chuckles getting up from the floor with a grunt.

“Just wanted to save your scent, baby,” he laughs rubbing his beard and you shout at him to get out putting on a bra.

“You have 5 minutes,” he says, still chuckling as he leaves the room.

***

When you finally step outside the house you see the brothers smoking by Joel’s truck. Jess took your stepdad’s car to go on a spa retreat and her plans to waste Tommy’s money pampering herself coincided perfectly with your plans to fuck her husband.

You bite your lip when you see Tommy wearing a black western shirt and dark jeans. Your heart sings at the thought that he wanted to look good to take you out.

Tommy quickly looks you over, trying to hide his interest but you notice his gaze slide over your body tightly enveloped by the slinky dress.

Joel on the other hand doesn’t hide anything. “Looking good, baby,” he comments shamelessly adjusting his bulge.

“Let’s go,” you say, coming up to the truck and batting your lashes at Tommy, “Daddy, will you keep me company in the back?”

“Sweetheart...” Tommy starts talking with an unsure expression but you pout your lips, mouthing, “please”.

He sighs and gets in the back seat. A little part of you wonders if he’s pushed by your threat or genuine desire to be close to you. But you shut this little voice down reminding yourself that the result is what’s important.

When you get into the car your dress rides up exposing even more of your thighs but you don’t bother tugging it down.

Joel starts the engine and backs out of the driveway while you’re looking around at the interior of his truck. It’s surprisingly tidy and you’re genuinely impressed until your gaze raises up and to your shock you see your panties hanging on the rear view mirror. Your jaw drops and you’re about to shout at Joel when you stop yourself. You realize that the perv must have picked them up from the floor of your room that morning and you’re not eager to let your stepdad know about your fun time with your step uncle.

So you shut your mouth and see Joel winking at you in the mirror.

Tommy on the other hand reacts as soon as he sees it, “God, Joel, take this thing off!”

“Why?” His older brother asks with defiance driving through the town streets with one hand on the wheel.

Tommy just sighs, not even trying to come up with a reason.

You’re squirming in your seat praying that Joel doesn’t mention whose panties are now swinging in front of the windshield. You almost moan with relief when he turns on some classic rock and doesn’t say anything.

Your eyes keep shooting at Tommy from time to time who’s looking out of the window. You hate that he’s so far so you unbuckle your seat belt and slide over closer to him. You trace a wedding band on his finger getting his attention. He snaps his head your way, brows furrowed.

“Get back in your seat. ‘s dangerous.”

You take his hand and bring it up to your lips as he’s watching you closely. You press your cheek to his knuckles and rub your face against his hand.

“Love when you worry about me, daddy,” you purr into his hand and then place it on your thigh that’s further from him.

You put your hand over his and make him squeeze your naked flesh.

“Keep me safe, please,” you breathe out feeling his palm against your skin, so close to your pussy and at the same time torturously far.

“I ain’t a seat belt, sweetie,” Tommy mumbles looking down at your skin erupting in goosebumps under his touch. He takes a sharp breath and lifts his hips before spreading his legs a little wider. You notice his bulge has grown bigger and you close your eyes for a second trying to calm down but sink even deeper in the sticky pit of desire. You think about moving his hand to your inner thigh and then closer towards your pussy. His fingers would immediately find your panties soaked and if he slid his thumb under the fabric he could easily find your throbbing clit and …

“Hey, lovebirds!” Joel rumbles and you snap your eyes open as he interrupts your daydreaming.

Tommy clears his throat feeling his brother's eyes on him in the car mirror and his hand flies away from your thigh. You curse Joel inwardly for ruining the moment.

Joel’s head turns to you slightly as he asks, “how about we skip the restaurant and get a motel, huh?”

You know that you’re the one he’s asking because Tommy has no say in any of this thanks to the recording you have on your phone.

“I’m not some cheap hooker you picked up at a gas station, Joel. I can’t just jump into bed with you,” you reply, putting your seatbelt back on.

Joel laughs and your stomach burns with rage. You’re fed up with his mocking, his attitude, his cockiness.

“What’s so fucking funny, old man?” You spit out at him grinding your teeth.

“Fuck, baby,” he says locking eyes with you in the mirror, “I don’t remember buying you dinner before I jizzed all over your pretty face a few days ago?”

“You WHAT?!” Tommy exclaims and your heart falls into your stomach. As long as you’ve known him you never heard him raise his voice like that, maybe only watching sports but never at a person. Especially Joel. He scoots forward in his seat to get closer to Joel and grabs his arm. “Have you fucked her already?” Joel seems absolutely unfazed as he replies in his usual “fuck y’all” tone, “No, I haven, Tommy, relax. We just fooled around. The princess wanted to come and I helped her.”

Tommy’s head snaps in your direction and you squeeze your body into the seat as fear grips your heart. He looks livid, eyes are scorching you under the furrowed brows, lips form a tight line in anger or disappointment. You feel small under his stare and stammer weakly, “d..daddy, he didn’t… ”

He suddenly gets closer to you, leans in, grabs your hand and squeezes it in his. It’s not painful but his strength and wrath make your breath hitch and your pussy clenches around nothing as the fear affects you like an aphrodisiac.

“If he fucks your needy hole before I do, believe my words, sweetie, I won’t touch you. You can put that recording of me on national television I don’t give a fuck. Got it?” He throws the words at you as his eyes are boring into yours.

You whimper as his face is so close you feel his breath on your parted lips. Realizing that he’s waiting for your answer you nod hastily and he gets back in his seat.

You feel your world tilting and turning upside down. Your stepdad, the calmest, softest man you know just shouted at his brother and said all that to you.

Tommy’s still fuming, clenching and unclenching his fist resting on his thigh and you wonder why it stirred him up that much. Why has his possessiveness burst out now? It was the first time you witnessed his passion for you. Is it sibling rivalry? Insecurity? Or did he finally let himself do what he’d wanted? You ask yourself these questions before you see Joel watch you through the mirror. He looks smug and you try to make your expression neutral not to give him the satisfaction.

You glance out of the window and your anxiety spikes up again seeing that you’re almost at the place you’ve picked.

“Oh, fuck no!” Tommy exclaims seeing where you three are going. “Are you fucking kidding me? You know that it’s Jess’ favorite place. How am I gonna look with you grinding against me all night?” He’s shooting daggers at you and you take a deep breath trying to find the right words.

“Tommy, listen. This restaurant is the only ok place in this shithole of a town. And I promise I’ll behave,”

Mistrust is painted on his face but seeing you shaken and nervous calms him down a bit.

“No ‘daddies’!” he demands pointing his finger at you.

“No “daddies,” you promise with sadness in your voice.

He points his finger at Joel next, “You too! None of your usual shit!”

Joel raises his hands and brows acting like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. You scuff but turn your pleading gaze at Tommy.

“And we leave when I say we leave!”

You hate losing your upper hand in the situation but your pussy is throbbing for him now, so dominant and rough, and you decide to submit this time.

You all get out of the car and Tommy stomps to the restaurant still angry. Having stayed alone with Joel you use the opportunity and grab his arm to stop him.

“Why have you said it? About the morning? I thought we were on the same page.”

“We are, angel.” Joel replies, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in the direction of the entrance, “I know my brother. He always wants something I don’t have. He must be ecstatic seeing how hungry you’re for him. I just fiddled with his toy a bit and now he wants it even more.”

His hand grabs your ass and you slap it off getting away from him as you see Tommy watch you two waiting at the door.

You can’t believe that Joel is manipulating his brother so easily. But his words have reassured you and you feel less agitated.

When the brothers and you step into the restaurant, a host greets Tommy by the name and you see the confusion hiding behind his features at Mr Miller’s unusual company.

He asks about Jess and you cringe rolling your eyes so far up your head, the host gets even more flustered.

He leads you to your table and you settle down.

A waiter brings you the menus and you order a glass of red wine, adding “Please, you two, no hard liquor, we have a long night ahead of us,” Tommy chokes on his water as the waiter slightly raises his eyebrow.

Joel gets a beer and Tommy follows suit. When the waiter leaves your stepdad glares at you.

“You promised to behave.”

“I am behaving. I just don’t want you to forget why we’re here.”

Joel chimes in, leaning back against his chair with a grunt, “And why exactly are we here, baby?”

“I want us to get to know each other better.”

“We’re family, angel, I know everything there is about you.”

“Really? What’s my favorite color, Joel,” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“The color of my brother’s dick?” Joel asks and you burst into giggles while Tommy mumbles profanities under his breath.

When the drinks arrive Joel starts asking Tommy about his work and you’re surprised to notice how the older brother eases him up. They talk and you listen, not really getting through the meaning of a bunch of contractor terms but you smile when they do and laugh when they say something funny.

Soon you’re drinking and talking and it actually feels comfortable. They reminisce about their life in Austin and you ask them questions genuinely interested in their past.

At one point Joel acts like a perfect wing man telling you a hot story of Tommy getting arrested for starting a bar fight because of a girl and you tingle all over. Your stepdad gives you a shy smile and your breath hitches.

Suddenly you feel Joel’s piercing gaze on you.

“What about you, angel? Got any fun college stories for us?” Tommy looks uncomfortable and you remember your promise to him to behave so you say softly,

“I’m a good girl, uncle Joel. I’m there to study, not to waste my time on boys.” You drop your gaze acting so innocent even you don’t believe yourself.

Joel chuckles and Tommy glances up at you with a little smile.

“Ok, our good girl. What about girls? Bet you’ve licked some pussies after a wild party.”

“Fuck, Joel,” Tommy curses and you bite your lip trying not to smile at the way your stepdad squirms in his chair. The wine makes you bolder and you decide to spice up the night.

“How about we play a game? I answer your question and then you two answer mine?” you offer fidgeting in your chair giddy with excitement.

“Shoot, baby.”

“No!”

The men reply at the same time. Tommy’s shaking his head and Joel slightly punches his brother’s shoulder.

“Come on, Tommy. Let’s hear how naughty our good girl gets. I remember you were fine with her… how did you put it… exploring herself.”

Your eyes are glinting with excitement as Joel quotes that dialogue. You remember it by heart now having listened and come to it so many times you lost count.

“Go ahead, angel,” Joel nods, motioning you to speak.

You take a deep breath and start talking softly.

“I’ve been with a girl just once. We weren’t wasted or anything,” You shoot a glance at Joel and then continue, “We were in her room watching a movie and then it kinda happened.” You suddenly feel shy as not only Joel’s but also Tommy’s gaze is glued to you.

“Nah, baby. We need details.” Joel’s voice, seducing and gruff, pulls the words out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“We started making out.. then I tugged her shirt down and sucked on her nipples,” you muse tracing the edge of the wet glass with your finger. “I kissed her stomach, then her pussy… She was so wet. So soft on my tongue. I sucked on her clit and fingered her for some time and she came…her pussy was clamping on my fingers so hard.”

When you lift your eyes you see the brothers stare at you with hungry obsidian eyes as if they’re ready to pounce on you at any moment. Joel palms himself through the jeans and Tommy doesn’t tear his eyes off you as they slide from your lips to your breasts and back up again.

For a few moments you three are soaking in this horny silence until you break it clapping your hands together.

“My turn!”

Tommy takes a big gulp of his beer and Joel raises his brows waiting for your question.

“Have you ever fucked a girl together? Like… shared her?” you quickly regret your question as only saying it already is making you uncomfortably wet.

You’re looking at Joel expecting him to answer but suddenly hear your stepdad’s voice,

“Yeah, we have. Once.”

Your head snaps his way and you gawk at him. You don’t say anything and just wait for him to continue. And he does.

“She was Joel’s girlfriend at the time. We went to a bar, got really drunk and fucked in the bathroom.”

Tommy glances up at you and then quickly averts his eyes.

“Fuck…,” you moan rubbing your thighs together imagining them using some lucky girl like that and ask,

“How did you do it?”

Joel leans closer to you placing his massive arms on the table and replies savoring every word while his velvety voice hits you right in the pussy, “I made her bend over to suck Tommy off and then shoved my dick deep into her cunt. He fucked her throat, I fucked her hole and we pumped her full.”

The moment Joel finishes talking you hear the waiter’s shaky voice asking if you’d like anything else.

Tommy curses and sends him away. He acts polite but his voice strains with rage.

He hastily gets up and mumbling the word ‘bathroom’ leaves you two. Before he turns away you spot his massive bulge and swallow loudly.

You take a deep breath trying to calm down.

“Angel, you look pale,” Joel laughs at you and then shakes his head, “you want him, he wants you, what are all these fuckin’ games for? You coulda been stuffed with our cocks by now but no, little princes wanted to be wined and dined. Lets hope he doesn’t change his mind about tonight. If our plan goes to shit because of you, uncle Joel will get very angry. And you surely don’t want that, missy.” Joel’s expression is serious and you remember that he has his personal motive and his concern quickly becomes yours.

“I’ll talk to him,” you say, getting up from the table.

You come up to the bathroom and knock. It’s quiet so you knock again until you hear the lock click.

Tommy opens the door and steps out of the room but you gently push him back in.

“Please, let’s talk,”

You hear people’s voices and not wanting to be caught with you alone at the bathroom Tommy begrudgingly steps back and shuts the door behind you two.

“What?!” He grumps and steps up to the sinks. He opens the tap and bends down to wash his face.

You lean back against the door watching him and contemplating your next move. He’s about to snap and you’re afraid what unexpected fit he could throw again. You know he wants you and you need to be wise rather than play on his nerves. “You’re his innocent stepdaughter,” Joel’s words emerge from your mind.

You come up to him slowly and wait while he’s drying his face with a hand towel.

“I’m not a monster, Tommy. I don’t wanna ruin your life,” you speak softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, anger still painted on his face.

You inch closer, press your forehead to his shoulder and whisper breathing in his scent,

“I want you, Tommy. So fucking much.”

You feel vulnerable at the moment but that’s exactly what he wants you to be right now.

“So that’s why you spread your legs for my brother? ‘Cause you wanted me?”

You sniff not saying anything for a few moments, then lift your head, and glance up at him. His face is blurry as you’re looking at him through the tears.

“I was just horny, daddy. And when he was fingering me, I was imagining you fucking my pussy.”

Tommy’s breath hitches and you hold yours as well hoping he’ll react.

“Fuck, babygirl,” your stepdad whispers as his rage shifts into sympathy, his eyes sad and blown out.

The next moment he grabs you under your thighs, lifts you and sets you on the counter. He’s standing between your legs as you place your hands on his shoulders. His thumb wipes a tear from your cheek as the other hand is pressed to your lower back. You open your legs wider and the dress pulls up at your hips exposing your light pink panties.

“Shhh, don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here,” he whispers, kissing your cheek gently and his head drops as he’s looking at your pussy, “I want you too.”

His smell, his touch, his confession make you ecstatic and you press your parted lips to his. They’re soft and plump as his tongue breaches your lips and he licks into your whimpering mouth. You grab his ass and pull him closer to your heated center. You feel him hard against your pussy and start grinding on his stiff bulge.

“What do you need, babygirl? Tell me,” Tommy says, parting from your lips.

“Touch me, please… can’t wait any longer,” you whine, pulling your dress up to the waist. His hands rush to free your pussy and you lift your hips before Tommy takes your panties off.

The cold marble under your ass makes you hiss but you forget about it as soon as Tommy’s fingers push between your folds and he rubs your clit making you moan.

“You like it, babygirl? Daddy’s finally touching your needy pussy.”

You can’t form any words so you just moan and nod your head frantically. His forehead is pressed against yours as you’re both watching his digits glide down to your hole and without hesitation he pushes his middle finger inside you. You’re so wet it slides in easily and he starts massaging your walls.

“More please,” you plead and he groans as his index finger joins the first.

“Good girl! You're sucking me in so well, can’t wait to bury my cock inside you,” Tommy murmurs in your ear and you whimper before you see the door opening. Your heart freezes in your chest as you’re about to get caught being fingered by your stepdad. But you breathe out with relief seeing Joel stepping into the bathroom.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbles coming up to you two. He stands next to Tommy, his bulge pressed to your thigh. Through the haze of pleasure you feel Joel’s hand cup your tears stricken cheek and he leans to your ear and whispers, “Clever girl.”

Then his big palm squeezes your naked thigh as he asks you,

“Enjoying daddy’s fingers, angel? Who’s better at fingering your tight little hole, him or your uncle?”

Tommy groans and suddenly his lips are on yours. His kiss is hungry, desperate, claiming. You melt into it feeling your climax build as his fingers are pushing on the soft spot inside you.

You moan into his mouth and Tommy’s lips leave yours as he mumbles, “I’ll feed your pussy my cock.. soon, babygirl… just wait.”

“You’ll be full by the end of the night, angel,” Joel smirks and pulls down the neckline of your dress exposing your naked breasts to the men. He starts twitching your nipple as his brother is working your pussy.

Joel watches your face twist with pleasure, your teeth biting your lips mercilessly.

“Don’t ruin your pretty lips, angel,” he says, bringing his thumb to your mouth. He brushes your swollen lower lip and pulls it out from between your teeth, “Here.” He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you welcome it. You start sucking on his thick digit making the filthiest noises.

With your stepdad’s fingers fucking your hole and step uncle's thumb stuffing your mouth you feel yourself about to unravel. Tommy pushes you over the edge pressing his thumb to your clit and swirling it a few times.

“Come, babygirl. Make daddy proud,” Tommy says and your explode clumping hard on his fingers and moaning, your pretty noises muffled by Joel’s thumb still pressed to your tongue. The man praises you, “That’s our girl. Perfect little slut.”

The orgasm is hitting you hard and you’re shaking and trembling so Tommy wraps his arm around your waist holding you tight but still pleasuring you.

They both are watching Tommy’s digits rhythmically disappear inside your dripping hole and your pussy squelches as your creamy cum, pushed out by the intrusion, slides down your ass towards the counter. Finally your climax subsides and your body stills, jerking with aftershocks from time to time.

Joel's thumb leaves your mouth and he holds the back of your neck while you’re trying to catch your breath.

Tommy pulls out his fingers too and lifts them up for the three of you to see. Under the bright lights you see his digits glazed with your juices. A drop of your slick slides down his middle finger and Tommy licks it off and then brings his digits to your mouth. You happily suck them clean while they both are praising you, “that’s our girl”, “like that, angel”, “came so hard for daddy and uncle.”

When you’re done cleaning your stepdad’s fingers off your cum, he cups your cheek and asks softly, “ready to go home, babygirl?” You look at Tommy, whose adoring and hungry gaze makes you tingle again, then at Joel, who’s eating you up with his blown out eyes, his hand palming his huge bulge, and the anticipation of the night ahead makes your heart and pussy flutter.

Batting your eyelashes at the men you give them a shy smile and say “yes.”

******

Thank you for reading!💖

Your comments and reblogs will make me very happy! I’d love to know what you think!❤️

Part IV

General tag list: @nervousmumbling @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

Series tag list: @milla-frenchy @missannwinchester @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page

If you want to be tagged for the series or for everything let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller x you x tommy miller #dark tommy miller #dark joel miller #dark!joel #dark!reader fics #dark reader #dark!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader x tommy #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #joel tlou #hbo the last of us

[natailiatulls07]

Haunted house

Oscar Piastri x female!reader

Summary - McLaren are doing a haunted house halloween video and Oscar manages to rope in his girlfriend

Warning - Blood (fake), swearing, chainsaw (fake), clowns, spiders and a mention of the exorcist??

A/n - Another first timer today!! I love Oscar!! 🤍

23 Halloween season

-

When Oscar told me that McLaren were doing a Halloween challenge video for their YouTube channel and had offered Oscar to rope me in, I was excited. Growing up I Ioved Halloween; dressing up, getting free sweets and watching spooky movies, they were just so exciting to me.

Naturally I grew up but yet I still held that love for the holiday. So that’s why I agree and now I’m in the passenger seat of Oscars car on our way to the secret location.

Every so often he was gently rub his thumb across my thigh, we were have a light conversation between ourselves.

Eventually, Oscar pulled in a car park when the McLaren social media team and Lando were stood around just talking and most likely waiting for our arrival. “Ah the couple has arrived!” The Brit was the first to notice us and announce our arrival.

Getting out the car, I was grateful that I decided to wear a large cream wool sweater because the weather felt nippy. “Hey dude!” Oscar and Lando greeted each other with a quick fist bump. It was soon followed by a quick side hug between me and Lando.

-

The McLaren pr manager was quick to fill us in with the details of the video; we all would be going into the haunted house, go through the different sections and then come back out at the end. Simple as that.

At this point though, thats when my nerves kicked in. I started to get anxious but I didn't want to show that emotion, knowing that if I did Oscar would make me not do it.

The team started to film, before Lando and Oscar explaining the video to the viewers. "Hey guys! So today me, Lando and Y/n are going to do this super fun haunted house!" There's sarcasm in his voice when he says 'super fun', which makes both me and Lando laugh together.

Lando manages to compost himself. "There will be multiple different sections to the house, however we don't know what the sections are and what they're like" I look over to the entrance of the house and cringe. "So let's go!"

We all start to walk towards the entrance with the camera man behind us. "Ladies first..." As if insync, Lando and Oscar move to allow me to walk in first which I quickly say thank you to and walk inside despite my nerves.

Once inside, it's pitch black. I can hear distant noises which I cannot describe, foreign noises. A hand goes to grasp mine and I jump at the sudden contact. "It's me, sweetheart" Oscars australian accent comes from behind me in the darkness.

"Oh god...we're two steps in and Oscars already being all lovey dovey" The Brit from what sounds like behind Oscar complains.

"You're such a child!" Oscar moans as to which laugh along with him.

After walking about five steps through the darkness, we come to another door. Making our way through the door, I'm greeted with walls decorated in thousands of tiny orange, blue and green glow in the dark dotes. "Oh this is cute!" I comment but immediately regret my words when a glow in the dark clown starts jumping out on us.

"AH FUCK!" Lando shouts, even though he is the furthest back out of the three of us. The bright clown laughs hideously and starts making his way towards me.

I'm suddenly pull back by my hand, the hand that Oscar has ahold of. Colliding with his chest I feel him quickly moving us past the clown onto the next section.

Just as we made it past the clown, the two of us hear Lando again. "You ain't scary bitch!" There's a pause. "AH Wait fuck, maybe you are!"

Oscar leans his head down, so that his mouth is next to my ear. "Are you okay?" He whispers, and in that moment I feel alone and disconnected from the world with him.

Nodding my head. "Yeah, it was cute and then that fucker came. But yeah I'm okay" I lean up to give him a quick kiss on the lips before looking around at the next section.

There's a bloody operation table, laid on top is a little girl dressed in a long white gown. Her hair long, black and extremely tangled. Around us, looks like an old operating room yet the walls, much like the table, is covered in crimson blood.

You know instantly when Lando has entered because of his uncontrolable reaction. "EW! WTF" I find myself laughing at his childish reaction to the section, Oscar laughs along with me.

Lights start flashing and we all turn to the girl on the table. Noticing how she is now slowly moving up into a sitting up position. "Oh and she lives, just fucking brilliant!" McLarens British driver comments sarcastically.

Once she sits up, her waist turns so she is now facing us. "Help me! Help! He's going to kill me!" Just as she finishes her sentance, we all hear the whirring of a chainsaw behind us as to which we all turn. Coming face to face with a tall and broad man, in his hands there's a chainsaw and much like the rest of the room covered in blood.

He jumps forward, more so my way, causing me to scream out in fright. "I need another body...yours will do" He smiles disturbingly.

“Yeah fuck this, no way are you coming after my girl sir!” This took both me and Lando by surprise as Oscar was never one to react this much openly. He quickly moves us out of the room, Lando still behind us when he says “Yeah that’s right bitch! Back off!” Followed by his high pitch laugh and a high pitch scream, also from Lando.

-

We all collectively make our way through the rest of the haunted house, coming across a spider themed room and a exorcist themed room. As usual, Lando is making little comments and screams the whole way through.

Admittedly on some of the room, either me or Oscar join in Landos terrified comments.

I push through the long bunting across the door way, we come out of the haunted house. A camera team is set up awaiting our post haunted house reactions.

“That was fun!” I comment which earns me a dirty look from Lando, and a laugh from Oscar who has his arms wrapped around my waist.

Both Oscar and Lando are quick to make a outro, wrapping up the video. After talking with the media team and Lando, me and Oscar get back into his car making our way home.

“Thank you for inviting me today baby” I say, looking over at Oscar who is focusing on the road.

“It’s alright, plus I needed someone to put up with Lando so thank you!” Pulling up to a red light, Oscar takes my hand and kisses my knuckles gently.

-

Tag list - @ilovechickenwings @carlossainzwho @ipab @erikasurfer @soph1644

#formula one #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #lando norris #mclaren #mclaren racing #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 2023

[neurologicalanguish]

pathetic and sad and depressed leon thoughts cause he’s a dumb fuckin loser who should die (i would do anything he told me) erm… this is also my first post so… bare with me

cw/tw: olderbf!leon(age gap not specified), erectile dysfunction(i know, not my fault he’s a pathetic traumatised mf…), suicidal ideation, nsfw after read more, slight misogyny, porn addiction, choking kink, reader has afab anatomy, nonchalant leon…

would definitely thrash and cry in his sleep sometimes, the amount of horror and gore he’s experienced first hand wouldn’t be taken away just cause he has a pretty thing like you to love.

i feel like he’s always so detached and constantly disassociating that whenever you try to initiate something, anything at all, he just sort of does it out of inertia, just so you can get the relief you want.

he’d be rubbing lazy circles on your clit as you cling and squirm against him, as he has you all nuzzled into his chest with his arm under your head.

but that fucker is probably thinking about something else entirely, he’s just glad you haven’t gotten sick of him yet. how you still so desperately seek his love and validation.

sex doesn’t excite him anymore, sure, he needs to stick his cock in something warm and wet from time to time, but he’s fucked so much in his youth that he doesn’t even see the appeal of it anymore. not to mention the porn addiction he had…

hours on end, just spent in front of magazines, or shitty cassette tapes, that were so old and fucking beat that he’d have to fix them himself in order to not have the whore’s moans sound like they’re from within the depths of hell because the cassette would play in slow motion.

how he’d gotten so desensitised to anything that had to do with sex, that at one point he needed to start reading erotica, just to get his dick hard. he’d just sit on the shitty mattress of the floor of the apartment he was supposed to call “home” , while watching the TV playing porn, like it was some fuckin’ game show.

so it doesn’t come as a surprise, at least to him, that with the years, he doesn’t find pleasure in sex, or anything at all really.

but when he sees such a pretty thing like you, so pathetic and constantly begging him to be pounded, guilt would just wash over him, saying to himself that “it’s the least i could do for the fuckin’ world, right?”

so again, he’d have you under him, peppering wet kisses on your neck, or choking you sometimes. how he’d wish to actually snap your fragile neck at times, it didn’t help when your skin would turn slightly pale, it was almost like it was doing something for him, but he decided to ignore it.

his aging, and the shitty way he had lived up until the time you met him, and even as he’s with you, doesn’t attenuate the fact that his “stupid fuckin’ useless cock” doesn’t even wanna work anymore. he feels so pathetic and helpless. he’d rather jump off a bridge, the sound of his body weight reverberating on cold harsh concrete, as his corpse splays out in a million fuckin’ particles as it hits the ground, leaving behind just a burgundy mess of what was once your “handsome old man” , than have to explain to you that he doesn’t wanna fuck, his dick doesn’t work.

he just tries to be grateful for what he has, at least you cook good food. he’ll keep attending to your needs, eating you out, buying you toys, fiddling with your clit, he’ll keep pretending for his “pretty girl”.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil 4

[rabbitsrams]

snowy mornings - jschlatt x reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, teensy bit suggestive at the end :)

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: its not even close to winter but i wrote most of this in one sitting so enjoy hehe

(moodboard by me, pictures not mine)

The sun barely peeks past the clouds. Small sprinkles of snow are still falling from the gray sky as Schlatt leaves the house. 

He's all bundled up. He's wearing at least four layers underneath his coat, something his mother always insisted he do. A hat that you got him as a gift is snug on his head and thermal gloves he's had since he was sixteen keep his hands warm. 

He looks through one of the windows of the house as he walks to the sidewalk, knowing you are still sleeping. He wishes he could be back in bed with you. Wishes he could have you in his arms. Wishes he was wrapped in blankets with you by his side as the heater warms the room.

But he's got a shovel in his hand, carrying the thing over his shoulder while he goes to the corner of the block, freezing his ass off even through all the layers.

His poor neighbors, elderly and helpless. They always thanked him whenever he shoveled for them, asking their children to come over and bring him some baked goods once the afternoon came. He didn't do it for some reward or anything, he knew some fucker would try to fall on their unshoveled property and “sue them for all they're worth,” as he told you one time. He just wanted to help them out and make sure their pathways were cleared.

He forgot to bring headphones out, so instead of blasting King Krule and Radiohead, he listened to the scraping of the metal against the concrete. The scraping that echoed throughout the entire block, likely waking light sleepers from their slumber. You were one of those light sleepers, and yet you stayed asleep. 

It was taxing going around the corner and back to his house to clear pathways for walkers alike. His neighbors would do it as well but in due time. They weren't early risers like he was. But only in the winter.

Memories of his father waking him and his brother up at ungodly hours to shovel after overnight blizzards crashed their way into New York. Those mornings were silent as well; it was like the grating scraping was music to his father's ears.

He managed to complete all the shoveling in less than an hour, his personal record. 

Quickly walking back up the driveway as the sun completely rose, he placed the shovel against the garage and went back inside, shivering and stomping the snow out of his boots. 

He yawned as he took his hat off. He placed it on the flat part of the handrail, looking at how the snow immediately started to melt into the fur. The gloves were next, he was shocked his fingers weren't completely numb. Then the jacket, also hastily hung next to yours, untouched since yesterday. The boots were left right by the door to be moved later as he walked up the stairs and to the bedroom where he discarded the extra layers.

He didn't see you stir as he entered the room. Even in your tired state, you could tell he was out of bed. You opened your eyes and saw him undressing, remaining in an old t-shirt from his father's college days and flannel pajama bottoms you often coveted.

You stretch, yawning softly. That gets his attention. He walks toward the bed and wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You're shocked awake by how cold his nose is.

“You're so warm...” he says, your neck muffling his words.

“Baby, you're freezing,” you hum as you pull him into bed with you. “Did you go out and shovel?”

“I always do.”

“Aww...” you kiss him on the cheek as you wrap the blanket around him. “You're so good.” 

He hums a response, cuddling close to you. He holds you tight against him, wrapping his limbs around you in an awkward manner.

“You are too fucking tall.” You joke. 

“And you are too fucking beautiful,” He kisses your neck many times. “And warm.”

“Go back to sleep, honey. You need to rest.”

“'S long as I can hold you in my arms like this, I'll sleep forever.”

You giggle, your laughter turning into a soft yawn. “Even when you're tired as shit you're still corny...” Your eyes close as you begin to stroke his hair.

He wakes before you once more five hours later. Your hand is still resting on the side of his head while the hand where your wedding ring rests is closer to his face. 

He shifts slightly so he can have a better view of you. Your mouth is slightly agape as you breathe, your nose too stuffed for you to breathe through it properly. He can see the gap between your two front teeth, something that makes your smile all the more beautiful.

You eventually wake to the sight of your husband watching you. He’s smiling softly, tiredness still present in his eyes. “Hey, you all warmed up?”

“I am… you’re so pretty…” He lays his head on your chest. You smile, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go get something,” You say as you try to get out of bed. He tries to grab you and bring you back to bed. “Just give me ten minutes, fifteen at most.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You come back ten minutes later with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He’s sitting up at this point, a hand running through his messy hair. He smiles when he smells the steaming beverage and reaches his arms out as you place it on the bedside table. You get back into bed and snuggle close to him as he blows on the drink.

“You remembered the marshmallows…” Schlatt says, a yawn obstructing his words. 

“Of course I did.” You say. He laughs softly and wraps an arm around you. He tries to take a sip of the hot chocolate but hisses in pain as it burns his tongue.

“Aw, fuck.”

“Burns?”

“Yeah,” Schlatt waves a hand in front of his open mouth to try and ease the pain.

“Want me to kiss it better?” You joke. He nods, leaning close to you. You grin as you cup his face in your hands, the hair on his muttonchops tickling your palms. You press your lips to his softly, letting out a soft noise of surprise when he slides his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. He tastes like hot chocolate and home.

When you pull away, his face is tinted red. “All better?” You ask, feeling your face heat up.

“Um…” Schlatt pretends to think for a moment. “I don’t think so.” He tugs at the hem of your, his, sleep shirt.

“Oh… well I definitely need to do something about that.” You raise your arms above your head and allow him to take the garment off before leaning in once again.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt imagine #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fluff #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfiction

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Ranger (Part 3)

Summary: The reader and Dean are in trouble as they come face to face with the person who's been pulling the strings all this time...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of murder/manipulation

A/N: Please enjoy the finale!

_______

“Stand down!” a voice shouted, holding up a closed fist. “He’s fucking feral!”

Feral? You reached a hand down between your thighs, pulling it back and grateful to find no blood. On the one hand, you were grateful Dean went feral. It was like a shit’s hit the fan reflex in an Alpha. Knots deflated instantly so pairs could escape danger. He would be stronger than five Alpha’s combined. Dean’s hair stood upright on every inch of his body, sense hyper aware of everything right now, searching of a way to protect his omega. 

But going feral meant that in a few hours, Dean’s body would force him to play catch up for going into overdrive and knock him out for a while to recover. You had to find a way out of this and fast.

“Are you fucking…” said a heavy sigh, your head popping out from behind Dean. Your heart skipped when one of the men ripped off his mask. “You fucking mated him? You let this fucker knot and claim you all the way didn’t-”

“Did, did you just come in here to try and kill my mate? My Alpha? My goddamn true mate?” you growled, stepping around Dean but held back by his extended arm. “If anyone takes a step towards him, I’ll kill you myself. I don’t care if you’re my dad or not. Don’t fuck with my mate.”

“He’s your dad?” said Dean, his scent threaded with a sharp twinge of heat, like burning ash, anger pulsing with every heartbeat. 

Your dad, turned his back, shaking his head. “Put on some damn clothes. We aren’t doing this right now.”

“Get these people out of my house and maybe I will,” you shot back. He grumbled but you watched as the others in the room walked out the broken front door, gathering at the far end of the front porch. The two of you dressed quickly, Dean always keeping an eye on you. Your dad grunted when he turned around, eyes narrowed at Dean. “Of course it had to be you, you sniveling little shit.”

“Dad, back off. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“He’s full of shit is what he is,” said Dean, picking you up before he stepped over the back of the couch to avoid the glass. He set you down by his side, careful to make sure you stayed behind him. “You were gonna kill your daughter’s true mate before we could cement it. The only reason I’m not dead right now is because it’d destroy her.”

“Why would you want to kill Dean? You told me he was innocent,” you said, brushing past Dean to join him at his side. He didn’t like that but he was the one in danger right now, not you. “Why?”

“Because you’re The Boss, aren’t you. You’re the one that gave out orders to my team lead for who to kill. Didn’t you?” Your dad stared at Dean, his jaw clenched. “Don’t deny it. I know there was someone above him calling the shots.”

“Listen you little shit,” he said, taking a step closer, resting his hand on his holster. “You don’t get to walk away from my business. You were all supposed to die that day but you lived. I let you live, Winchester, don’t forget that. I told the bureau you were a good kid with shitty luck to lose your whole team. I told them to help you get accepted to be a fucking forest ranger in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. I told them I’d watch out for you like the good person I am. I let you go, Dean. I let you think your little conspiracy theories were right. I was going to let you go but you just had to be her mate, didn’t you.”

“Touch her and I’ll-”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he snarled. “That’s my fucking daughter.”

He wiped a hand over his face, breathing deeply as Dean grabbed the back of your sweatpants, holding you close.

“Seeing as how killing you would make my own daughter hunt me down, I’m going to let you live.” Dean scoffed, your dad cocking his head. “Boy, don’t you think for one second if I hadn’t gotten here five minutes sooner you’d be still breathing. I won’t fuck up my own family but yours? I have no problem sending Sam and his little girlfriend a visit or your parents. You fucking work for me again and this time? You’re not hiding behind your team. You’re killing who I say when I say it.”

“No he isn’t.” You took a step forward, Dean’s grip still there. “In case you didn’t realize, those people you just threatened are my pack now. They are as much my family as you are. Dean let go of me.”

“Be careful,” he muttered, reluctantly dropping his hand. You raised your chin and took a few more steps, as close as you dared. He wouldn’t hurt you but you still couldn’t trust him.

“I know you love me, dad. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” He shifted on his feet, keeping his face blank. “Today was supposed to be my day to spend with him. Today’s supposed to be the best day of my life and you stole that. He’s not a hitman. He’s my fucking soulmate and if you do not stop hurting him right this second, I will call her, call them both, and tell them everything.”

His lips parted as he took in the threat, the way you stood your ground. You honestly weren’t sure what he’d do. Clearly he wasn’t the easy going nice guy you’d always known him as which made your gut churn. But you’d deal with that later. Right now you needed this resolved.

“Well?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Am I calling them or what?”

He raised his hand and did a twirling motion with his finger. The people on the porch shared a look but you watched them retreat off into the woods. Your dad let out a long breath before crossing his arms back at you. “Alright. I will leave your…mate and his pack out of this. Happy?”

“What the fuck is going on?” mumbled Dean behind your back. 

“My dad has two mates. My mom and his true mate he met a few years ago,” you said, turning around for a closet down the hallway. You ripped it open to find a broom and dustpan, happily grabbing them before tossing them at your dad. “Clean up the mess you made.”

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You don’t understand the kind of liability this kid is.”

“Clean. It. Up.” He grumbled but picked up the broom, sweeping the glass into a pile near his feet. “What Dean chooses to do is not your decision to make. You’re going to live with the consequences of your actions. Unless you want me to tell mom what kind of man you are? Tell Sasha who you are before you claim her?”

“You haven’t claimed your true mate?” asked Dean, your dad turning so his back was to your both as he worked. “How the hell did you hold off?”

“Dad always said it wasn’t fair to mom since he loves them both but when he met Sasha, he was strangely against it. Seeing as we both know just how hard it is to not claim a true mate, I’m going to guess it’s something else,” you said, glancing at Dean.

“He’s on Novi-Alpha,” said Dean, shaking his head. “You can’t claim her or you’ll kill her.”

“It’s why you moved out here away from mom for a ‘covert’ job huh? You don’t want your mates near you,” you said.

“Thanks for being such a sympathetic pup to the fact I have cancer,” he said, throwing the broom down. “For the record, miss know it all, I’ve been on Novi-Alpha for a decade. The kind I have is extremely aggressive. If I stay on it, the cancer stays away. Hopefully.”

“Hey,” you snapped back, holding up a finger. “I don’t want you to be sick. I don’t want to know that you’ve been…killing people for hire for who knows how long. I am so angry with you but do not think that means I want you dead.”

“Oh? What if he wants me dead?” asked your dad, nodding towards where Dean stood beside you. “You going to let him do that?”

Yes, I would. He’d forced Dean to be part of a group that relentlessly made him to be part of their hits. Maybe he hadn’t pulled a trigger or taken a life until it was his own team but he’d participated. Helped plan, coordinate. All against his will so his family would stay safe. So yeah. Dean could walk over there and kill him this second and you wouldn’t be more than a little upset. 

But you hid that gut instinct to yourself for the moment.

“This may come as a shock but I don’t like killing people unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Dean bent down, palm wrapping around the broomstick. He held it out to your dad, staring him dead on. “My friend is an oncologist. A good one. He’s the one that was giving me access to Novi-Alpha the past few years while I thought someone was hunting me.”

Dean nodded his chin, looking him up and down.

“It’s better than the basic crap your insurance covers. I could talk to him, see if we could get you on the new stuff. It might actually heal you and you could be with your mates again.”

“Why the fuck would you help me?” he asked. Dean glanced over his shoulder at you, giving him a smirk.

“You have a lot of making up to do with your daughter and your new pack family. We need you alive to do that,” said Dean. Your dad reached for the broom, Dean holding it back. “Why’d you kill in the first place?”

“Why do you think? When I was diagnosed, Novi-Alpha didn’t exist. I was trying to get money fast to pay off the house, pay that one’s student loans, make sure my family was taken care of. They didn’t know it could cure cancer when it first came out so I kept at it.”

“So you went Walter White on the situation,” said Dean, handing over the broom. “Maybe you ought to quit the business while you still have a family willing to take you back.”

Your dad pursed his lips, gaze wandering to you. “Not sure that’s possible anymore.”

“Probably not. But that’s your pup. You have two mates, one you’re overdue to claim. You owe them.” Dean turned, giving you a small smile. “You want to give him a second chance?”

“We’ll see. But first, you need to do something else for me.”

Three Months Later

“Good morning,” said your dad, hopping out of his truck as you sat on the front porch with a cup of coffee. “Surprisingly sunny today, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is, Harry,” you said, taking a long sip, eyeing him up and down. “Coffee?”

“No thanks, got some in the truck,” he said, Dean walking out the front door, adjusting his coat. “Dean.”

“Asshole,” said Dean with a smile, tilting his head. Your dad hid his frown well, Dean taking a seat across from you with his thermos. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Harry?”

“I uh, wanted you both to know I’m leaving town. I sat mom and Sasha down last week and…told them the truth about everything.” He kicked the dirt with his boot, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was always worried about them getting along and now they’re closer than ever with how much they hate me. Guess I got what I wanted.”

“I’d try groveling,” said Dean, slurping up the steaming hot coffee with his best bitch face. “You’re starting to get good at it.”

“Yeah,” he laughed dryly, gaze shooting to you. “I need to go try to salvage something with my Omegas.”

“Sasha will let you back, eventually. She’s hardwired into you. Mom might be a different story, though,” you said. 

“I just wanted you girls to be okay when I was gone,” he said as you sighed. “Sorry. I know. Not an excuse.”

“I know you’re trying but you’re going to be making up for this the rest of your life. So go try with your mates. Dean and I will be fine on our own for awhile,” you said. 

“You still hate me,” he said. 

“Travel safe, Harry,” you said, your dad nodding before heading back for his truck. “I heard the new Novi-Alpha strain you’re on is working better.”

“Are you happy about that?” he asked.

“I’m not unhappy.” Dean reached over to take hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Call once you’ve settled in back home.”

“Take care of her,” he said, Dean humming. With that, he was gone, down the gravel driveway and you could feel Dean relax beside you.

“He won’t do anything,” you said, raising your hand and running it through his brown strands. “S’okay, Alpha.”

“I know. He makes me nervous. S’like my body remembers going feral because of him and will always be on edge.” 

“I doubt he ever moves back here. Mom and Sasha are making him donate every penny he ever made from killing, volunteer, be a blood donor once he gets the all clear from his doctors, therapy, and a whole bunch of other stuff.”

“I like those two,” he chuckled, closing his eyes when you scrunched up your fingers against his scalp. “Oh, you’re making me want to go back to bed, Omega. A nice massage sounds like heaven right about now.”

“You are the sheriff. You can show up late you know,” you said, trailing your finger down the side of his cheek, tickling his jaw.

“Ugh, raincheck. I have a staff meeting at eight I’m supposed to run.” He nuzzled into your touch though, his breathing calm, steady. “Why’d you make your dad call the bureau and tell them to give me a job as a cop?”

“Because you’ll never get to go back to being an agent. Because you deserve to be able to help people how you always wanted to.” He inched closer, resting his head on your shoulder. “You never have to be The Ranger again.”

“I know,” he said, sighing against you. You frowned, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out his phone. He lifted his head when he saw you dial, watching you hold up a finger.

“Hey, Caleb, it’s Sheriff Winchester’s wife. Listen, Dean’s not feeling too great today so he’s calling in sick,” you said, Dean flashing wide eyes at you, trying to steal back the phone but you got up before he could. “Yeah it is too bad, just a touch of flu. Well he’ll be in tomorrow if he’s feeling better, alright? Take care.”

“Omega!” said Dean when you hung up, his hands on your hips as you shrugged with a smirk. “You…you…”

“Yes, sheriff?” you purred, scratching under his chin, scraping over the bonding gland in his neck. He mewled at the sensitive touch, losing the urge to turn into it. “What a good Alpha you are when you relax for me. Hopefully with Harry being gone you’ll relax more. I do love helping you relax.”

“I do like relaxing with you,” he mumbled when you squeezed his hip. “I…I still don’t like it when you call me a good person. It doesn’t feel right when I killed four people and researched how to-”

You pressed a hand to his mouth, Dean staring at you with soft green eyes.

“Think of it this way…you were doing what you had to to protect your pack, just like a good Alpha does. You are not a bad man, Dean Winchester.”

“How do you know that?” he whispered.

“Because I can feel your soul and yours is one of the best.” 

“Oh, Omega,” he said, voice smooth as honey, the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls in the air. “Your soul is my favorite too.”

“Want to finally relax?” you asked, sliding your hand down to his. He laced your fingers together, smiling when he found your face.

“Yeah. I think I finally can after all this time, Omega.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, grinning through it. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Alpha.”

_______

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #alpha!dean x omega!reader #abo

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (4 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal, emotional, and physical injury canon-typical swearing, protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You might not be his anymore, but Ghost doesn't believe so. When you reach out to him, Ghost makes every excuse to come over, knowing that he can get you back if you just realize that you've always only been his.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Simon stands in the middle of your living room.

He is blood-drenched. Lead-hungry.

Full of venom. Full of fury.

His gaze sweeps over the busted television, the broken bookshelves, and the massive hole in the wall. There are bent picture frames empty of their glass. The photos within are either missing or partially torn. Whiskey stains the wall, running down from the impact point in little ribbons of amber.

Simon’s hands curl into fists.

This is so much fucking worse than what he originally thought. The living room doesn’t even scratch the surface. The kitchen is completely trashed, so is your bedroom where your boyfriend decided to shred up your clothes in anger.

Your… “boyfriend.”

That fucker should be grateful he isn’t here to face Simon. If he were, Simon would make him suffer. Make the prick eat his teeth.

On the phone, you were delirious, each word running together anger, frustration, and a fear that Simon felt in his gut. It sat heavy in his ears. That was enough for Simon to forget all responsibility and come to you.

Otherwise, Simon would not have come. You are not his woman anymore. That obligation to comfort doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to your boyfriend, but he’s the cause of all this suffering.

Why should you seek that bastard out?

No. Simon is glad you called him even though the circumstances turn his stomach and fill his veins with sludge.

He turns around and finds you lingering nearby. Your eyes are red with irritation, and your cheeks are puffy. Simon longs to pull you into his arms, yet hesitates only because you might push him away.

Simon unclenches his hands, flexing his fingers. “You’re breaking up with him.”

He’s not going to step around or sugar-coat this. Simon has always been blunt with his words, and this will be no different.

Your back straightens, hands clasped in front of you, fingers curled around the neckline of your sweater. “Simon—”

“It’s not a suggestion.” Simon lifts his arm, indicating the disaster of an apartment. “This is who he is. This will happen again.” He drops his arm.

Your chest expands. Deflates. “But—”

“Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not,” you snap.

Simon strides forward but you do not retreat. You stand tall, staring up into Simon’s face. Though your cheeks are stained with your tears, you’re beautiful.

“Next time it won’t be the wall or your television. It will be you he hurts.” Simon shakes his head. “And I won’t allow that.” You open your mouth as if to interrupt but Simon is having none of that. “I’ll kill him before that happens.”

“No. You won’t.”

“I will,” he growls. “I’ve never lied to you. Think I’m lying about this?”

Simon watches your throat bob as you swallow. He knows you understand. Fucking hell, he might be distant at times, even cold or blunt, but he never lies to you. Simon has always told you exactly what’s on his mind. Sometimes it has been to his detriment.

It is one of the reasons the two of you broke up. Simon didn’t want to end things. He respected your wishes, but even upon leaving, Simon still considered you his. The issue was with him and how he communicated with you about things. Emotionally, he was fucking distant. Not all the time, but enough that it seemed like he didn’t care.

That’s far from the truth, but Simon didn’t see any of it until you put it all out in front of him and decided to leave. Only then did he realize, and he did fucking everything to work on himself.

Fresh tears develop in the undersides of your eyelids. That’s it for him. It’s over.

Simon moves in, clasping the sides of your face with both hands. “Do you understand?” he asks softly, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

You don’t nod or even make a sound.

It’s not enough. Simon needs confirmation.

“He will escalate. He will get worse. You will be a target. Tell me you understand.”

There is a sniffle before you speak. “I know,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

Simon sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You’re warm. A beacon of light in the disaster of a room. He leans in, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. He inhales and his lung fill with you.

With a final squeeze, Simon places a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls back, but just enough to look at you. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help.”

Simon shakes his head. “No. Sit. I want to do this for you.”

Your brow softens, arms falling away from him as you step back and glide to the sofa.

Simon tackles the bedroom first, shoving all your damaged clothes into trash bags. He organizes everything, making sure nothing is out of place, that it appears as it did before your boyfriend trashed it all. When he’s done, Simon returns to you, putting you to bed.

“Don’t leave,” you murmur, and Simon doesn’t. He curls up next to you, holds you until your breathing becomes shallow and slow.

Only then does Simon unfurl himself, slipping away. He doesn’t leave the flat. He shuts the bedroom door and gets to work, picking up the shattered glass, sending the television to the large rubbish bin. He orders you a new one and schedules it for delivery. He sweeps the floor and returns everything to your kitchen cabinets. Anything that is torn or broken gets trashed. Simon works through your clothes last. Sitting on the living room floor, Simon shifts through every one, trying to see if anything is salvageable. Most of it is, but there is plenty he has to toss.

Simon works until there is nothing left. It’s incredibly late, the time creeping close to the rising of the sun. Returning to the bedroom, Simon kicks off his shoes and removes the balaclava. You’ve seen his face countless times, and showing it now is normal.

When Simon slips into the bed beside you, and your body shifts, turning in his direction. He slides over into your reaching arms. The moment your bodies come together, you sigh with pleasure, and the noise goes straight to his groin.

But Simon won’t. He won’t push. This is not about him.

Sleep floods in, and it is your soft hands caressing his face that eventually wake him.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice harsh from dreaming.

“Morning, Simon,” you reply, resting your chin on his chest.

This is how mornings used to be. It sends Simon into memory and the days when he knew he was in love.

Was?

No.

Is. He still is. He still loves you utterly. That never stopped for him.

Your hands are not idle. After caressing his face, they move downward. The shift in your motions sends little shivers through his spine. They are visible and sharp. You inhale, and Simon begins to lean in. You mimic him but pause before your mouths can meet.

“Do you have to go?”

Simon captures one of your wrists with his hand, caressing the pulse point there with his thumb. “I can stay as long as you like.”

The smile that spreads across your face warms him everywhere. He wants to savor it forever. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth. Then, your head shifts to glance at his chest and stomach. He might be wearing a shirt but Simon feels bare under your attention.

As your gaze returns to his face, Simon’s resolve melts away.

Fuck it. He’s doing this.

Grabbing the back of your neck, Simon closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours. There is no hesitation or resistance. You melt into him, and Simon has to hold back a moan. Every kiss is tender. Sweet. He’s missed this—missed you so fucking much it’s a raging inferno under his skin.

There is no part he leaves untouched. His hands roam everywhere, seeking closeness. Seeking your warmth.

“Simon,” you whimper against his mouth.

“I’m right here, love.”

You push upward, swinging your leg over his body, straddling him. Simon is momentarily stunned but you’re already returning to him, pressing you lips to his. He groans and grips your neck harder as your hips rolls against him.

“Simon,” you repeat, and his name on your lips is shifting him around, turning his insides out, revealing all his weaknesses.

His hands and your hands tug and pull. Moving clothing. Shoving bedding aside. When you start to sink down on him, Simon has to break the frantic kissing to breathe deep, to praise you in all the ways he knows how.

Your hands are solid against his chest. An anchor as you rock back and forth.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Fuck,” he repeats, elongated the vowel as your pussy lightly squeezes him.

Above him, the air from your lungs releases from you in little sighs that creep into his ears and burrow in the folds of his brain. They are collected there. Remembered.

Using his grip on the back of your neck, Simon pulls you right back in, claiming your mouth. You open for him perfectly, your hips momentarily stalling as all your attention shifts to this one connection.

But Simon needs that movement. He craves it like the birds need the wind.

Wrapping his free arm around your waist, Simon flips you onto your back. There is no pause between the time Simon flips you and when he starts to thrust. It is instant. An impulse. A driving force that overcomes him.

Your fingers claw at his back, your legs hooking around the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer. If that is what you want, Simon will do it. Happily.

Pressing his forehead to yours, the two of you exchange breaths. The bed strikes the wall in repeated thuds, pleasure pooling in the base of Simon’s spine.

“Don’t—” You inhale. Exhale. “Stop.”

Growling, Simon presses his mouth to your neck, his pace increasing until his thrusting becomes an erratic, desperate thing. He hears you moaning, feels your pussy clenching down to keep him inside.

It’s too fucking much.

Simon’s own release roils up from the depths. His hips grind forward, creating a seal as he comes. His entire body shivers as one of your hands cradles his cheek. The touch is so soft he almost doesn’t recognize it at first.

But then you curl your fingers under his chin, guiding his face away from your neck to stare into your eyes. He starts to pull away, but your feet stay locked over the back of his legs, keeping him inside you.

Simon smirks.

He has you.

It might not be perfect or even solid, but he has his way in.

You haven’t said it, but you don’t need to.

You are his.

taglist:

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[veryinnovative]

@jegulus-microfic | january 2, prompt: fire | word count: 1.575 featuring older ceo regulus black and younger intern james potter

“A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries? What does that even fucking mean?!” James shouts into the receiver as he winds through the busy masses of bodies crossing the roads, the traffic light across blinking for him to hurry. “Can’t I pick up something for him from Burger King or something? You know, like a normal human being?” 

On the other end of the line, Barty snorts a derisive sound. “Yeah, you try feeding him cheap chain franchise slob and see how that plays out for you. The fucker thinks Versace is a low-class brand, James. He probably doesn’t even know what the inside of a Burger King looks like. Besides, that place is fire. They have good shit.”

Groaning, James picks up the speed and sets out for a sprint, having missed the bus to Howick and resorted to the most reliable way of transport—his two sets of healthy, always moderately trained legs. 

“Are you running? You better not be fucking running, Potter. You’re going to come back all sweaty and with creases in your cheap-ass button-up and then I’m going to be the one getting shit for not driving you and ruining the image of Regulus Black’s executive assistant—”

“Suck a dick, Barty,” James bites back after barely evading a car, its tires screeching at him in warning. He throws the driver an apologetic smile.

“I’m serious. You meal-prepped, Potter! Asked where the fucking office microwave is, are you out of your mind? Lunch is on company credit, for fuck’s sake. You’ve got an image to uphold now you’re working for Black Enterprises!”

“The cafeteria is too rich for my taste. Besides, I like meal-prepping. It’s calming.”

“Your fucking tuna stinks up the place.”

“Maybe that’s just your big bullshitting mouth.”

“Listen here, you piece of—”

“Oops, entering a tunnel, hear that?” James cups a hand over the receiver and makes a low, grating sound—mimicking the static rasp of a bad cellular connection. “See you!”

He tucks away the phone before entering Beauxbatons, the restaurant Barty had told him to go to because Regulus was craving his guilty snack, which, to James, sounded like an item right off a witch’s menu. Then again, he was a poor twenty-three-year-old who had just had a gap year fresh out of university, lived in a run-down apartment tucked in Southern London, and knew nothing of the expensive tastes a man like Regulus Black possessed. Thirty-something years old and not a single skin blemish. Must be all the fucking truffle and caviar and whatever Boiron guava puree he eats.

“Welcome,” one of the employees asks. Of course, all of the staff are also wearing pristine clothes and have perfectly sleeked-back hair.

“Hi,” James answers, now all too conscious of the developing sweat marks below his armpits and the dampness cooling on his back. “I’m, uh, here to pick up lunch? Sorry, I forgot my order so let me have a peek at my messages…”

The employee blinks like James has grown a second head. “Take-away? Sir, this is a dine-in restaurant.”

Good thing James has come prepared. He shuffles through the contents of his bag, phone in the other hand and tip of his tongue peeking out in full concentration. “Oh, that’s alright. I brought something to carry it with me. I also got some Tupperware if you don’t mind rinsing it beforehand.”

“No, sir, it’s not a matter of containers,” the employee starts, her lips pursed into a tight line. “We don’t do takeaways.”

James stops and frowns, bag half slung over his shoulder. “Isn’t this Beauxbatons?”

“It is.”

“My boss sometimes has people pick up his lunch here.”

“You must be mistaken… We do not lend any type of service like that.”

James sighs. Great. Amazing. Just what he needed. “Right. Do you mind if I make a call? I’m sorry, there must have been a mistake then.”

The employee, undoubtedly taking pity on him and his disorderly state that suggests he’s been running the past ten minutes, nods. “Of course.”

Heaving a sigh, James scrolls through his contact list and taps on ‘Regulus’, never mind that he has been firmly instructed to only call him during emergencies. But considering the sort of day he’s been having, he considers this one.

Regulus picks up after the third ring. “Potter?”

It’s been two weeks and he still won’t fucking call him by his name, going off on tangents about formal office conduct and etiquette. Potter this, Potter that, bridling when he’s called by his first name for a change in an environment that would kiss the soles of his feet if he’d ask. “Hi, I’m at the place you sent me the address of but they don’t do takeaways so I wanted to know what you want to eat. You cool with Wagamama?”

There’s a pregnant pause—all too telling of how Regulus is probably taking a deep breath and doing the thing where he either pinches the bridge of his nose or rubs his eyebrows. “Have you mentioned the takeaway is for me?”

“No, I haven’t.” What difference would it make, James wants to ask. But in a world where Regulus Black is pretty much revered, he is confident it would make a little difference at least.

“Do that, Potter.”

James rolls his eyes before returning his attention to the employee. “He wants you to know his name is Regulus, by the way.”

Her eyes widen. “Reg—Do you mean Mr. Black?”

James clicks his tongue. “That the one.” The employee doesn’t look convinced and James holds up his hand just above his chest. “About this tall? Curly black hair? Probably in one of today’s morning tabloids, not hard to miss. I could put him on speaker if you’d like?”

There’s the frantic wave of her hands, head shaking vigorously. “Oh! You should have told me from the start, Sir. Please, what would Mr. Black like to eat for lunch? I—I’m sorry. We are very exclusive in our service and are most honored Mr. Black has once again chosen our humble establishment—”

“Just,” James sighs, skimming over the menu laminated standing on an easel by the entrance, not possessing the energy to listen to someone go off on tangents about his boss again. Not like he does so internally at night, anyway. Absolutely not. “A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries.”

“Not fries, a salad—” Regulus reminds him over the phone, but James has decided that he will just about eat whatever James decides on.

“Potter—” Regulus tries again and James flat-out hushes him. To his surprise, Regulus actually shuts up.

The employee nods, over-excited. “Oh, of course, an excellent choice. How would Mr. Black like it to be cooked?”

James shrugs. “I don’t know, on a grill?”

There’s a faint garbled noise coming from Regulus that James will definitely tuck away in his memory.

But the employee is too thrilled to be serving someone as pompous as Regulus to notice the lack of culinary terminology James possesses. “Oh, I meant the cook of the meat!”

“The cook of the meat?” James repeats. “I don’t know, whoever is on shift? Regulus, who do you want to cook your burger?”

The employee makes a high-pitched sound at the same Regulus sighs in a very exaggerated, exhausted manner. “Just tell them medium rare.”

“Medium? What is this, a video game difficulty?”

“Medium rare!” the employee chirps, her smile wry. Strands of hair stick out of the previously perfectly pulled-back bun like the situation has created plenty of static to dishevel her updo. “One medium rare wagyu—”

“Don’t forget the fries,” James adds, unable to fight off the grin cleaving his face. This, he loves most—fucking with rich people. ‘Who do you want to cook your meat?’ he’s a genius for that one, an absolute innovative mastermind. Make him head of corporate next at this rate.

“You had to call me for this?” Regulus asks him as James watches the poor girl scurry off to the back, undoubtedly to ring in the order and gush about the perfect, rich, hot-looking Regulus Black on the phone by the restaurant’s hallway.

“It was an emergency. I get you the wrong order and you, I dunno, bite off my head like Miranda Priestly.”

“I don’t know a Miranda Priestly.”

“No? Shame. Would’ve loved her, a real feisty woman that one. She works in the fashion industry, though.”

“Potter.”

James tries not to bark out a laugh. He can’t help it, Regulus is just too easy. “Yeah, I’ll get you your overtly expensive A3-grade cut of meat that could pay for my weekly rent. Didn’t take you for the type of man to get burgers, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m asking employees of a lower tax bracket to pick them up for me.”

Okay, that’s kind of funny. Regulus Black can be fucking funny if he wants to, he just rarely chooses to. James barely masks his snort at it. “Got me there, boss.”

“Get a cab back to the office. And stop calling me boss.”

“My bad, Sir,” James drawls, knowing that Regulus reacts particularly well to this specific formality. 

A second of silence that stretches on for a little too long. James clears his throat, wondering if the line cut off. “Regu—”

“See you soon, Potter,” Regulus speaks, faster than usual, almost like he’s flustered, and with a strange pitch to his words before he hangs up.

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fanfiction #marauders #marauders au #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #this one is for mil bc she plotted this w me so extensively #and also for cass <3 bc they synced w my brain today #ino microfic tag!

[shaisuki]

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ─── A SENSE OF SECURITY

"i'm protecting you."

you scoff at him with tears threatening to spill from your eyes. throwing the hoodie in the couch and the embarrassment seeps through your whole being, remembering the earlier dilemma rin bestowed to you.

"protecting me? are you out of your mind?! that man hadn't done anything to me!"

"yet. a little gratitude from you wouldn't hurt." he quips at you. removing his coat and hangs it.

"gratitude? do you think you deserve it from what you'd done, rin?" your voice raising a bit at him and rin only gives you a side eye glance with a raised brow.

"i sure deserve it, I did it for you and you should be grateful for it. no one but me will ever be able to protect you from harm's way."

"what the fuck you talking about rin? harm? that's it? i sure don't need protecting. i'm a fucking adult rin!" you snapped at him. you can't believe sometimes at rin. his reasonings and outbursts at things are a little over and it ends up hurting you without him realizing.

now, you were being stubborn and as much he don't want to use the word. you were being a bitch but he doesn't say it aloud. he knew how much the word weigh and being the stable and the reasonable one in the relationship, he's going to give you a piece of his mind.

that includes pinning you in the couch. his body hovering above yours and his hand squishing the cheek, putting enough pressure to hear him out.

"you're an adult. a oblivious one. i'm telling you right now. you're the unreasonable one. what would you do if he continued touching you or did you want him to continue? tell me." he firmly says. challenging you and the tone of his voice it was condescending. as if it was telling you, you were the immature one in the relationship and you need from protection in which he thinks.

you can't believe what you were hearing coming from him. staring at those teal-colored eyes of his who swirls with coldness and seriousness that there's no care for you in those gaze of his.

"no." defending yourself from his accusations at you. "why would i like him touching me and..." your words dying out and you can't find yourself to defend your point. mind becoming jumbled and conflicted. you tried to find your voice and with rin looking at you like you were the biggest mistake of his life.

the tears came rolling and it wouldn't stop. his expression seems to soften. you were helpless sometimes and naive. not knowing how many filthy fuckers had tried to make a move for you and you should be glad. you have him. itoshi rin. your boyfriend who would gladly burn the world if it means to protect you.

"i told you so. i'm just protecting you." he coos at you. caressing your cheek with his thumb.

well, he got point. a voice in your head told you. he's right, you were being unreasonable. too oblivious to pick up what things may come to you. be it to bring peace of harm to you and rin was just protecting you. in his own little ways.

"i'm sorry." you began to apologize to him. holding his hand in your cheek. the tears continuously falls and breaking out in sobs.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry.i'm sorry.i'm sorry." you repeated like a broken record. begging for his forgiveness. the tears blurring out your vision.

rin's cold but he's no heartless. deciding you earned his forgiveness. he comforts you that only can him do to you. letting you cry yourself out until it reduces to hiccups and sobs.

pulling you closer to his and placing your head to his chest. wiping the dried tears in your round cheeks. his fingers drawing patterns in your back.

"i'm sorry, rin."

"ssh. it's fine now, okay? you're forgiven."

kissing your forehead and rin's assured. you won't be doing anything to upset him. maybe. just make sure he's around to correct you.

#ᝰ.ᐟ shai's drabbles #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x chubby reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x chubby reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #tw gaslighting #chubby reader #plus size reader

[callsign-bunnie]

Old Habits Die Hard

Ghost is discharged from the SAS after a pretty severe suicide attempt. Now he's forced to live life as a civilian which is... pretty fucking boring. Hence why he jumps at the opportunity to beat the shit out of two punks who come in the rob the store. However, when it turns out they're part of an actual gang who has decided he needs to die... well, things get a hell of a lot less boring. Oh yeah, and he needs to talk to Soap, apparently.

--

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Price would have had a fit if he saw the habit that Ghost had picked up. Well, less a fit. Would have told him to knock it the fuck off, but… Well, fuck that old man. He’s the one who put Ghost in this stupid fucking position and Ghost had to cope somehow.

Ghost went back to tapping his fingers on the glass of the cigarette counter, grateful but bored with the lack of customers at the drugstore he now worked at. Why did he work at a drugstore? His stipend didn’t cover rent anywhere in his Province and he didn’t really want to go anywhere else. Plus, a job would “give him something to do”, according to Alex, who was the only fucker he still talked to.

Well, that was a lie. Okay, really, he just didn’t talk to Soap, Price, and Gaz. The latter because he didn’t talk to Ghost and… well, Soap and Price had both advocated for his discharge. Maybe he was being petty with being mad at them. Maybe he did need to be discharged but… well maybe Ghost wasn’t one to forgive easy. Not yet. One day, he would. But… Not yet.

Actually, working where he did wasn’t too bad. His boss was gone most of the time and there really weren't too many customers, so he was mostly left alone. Thankfully, too, because he’d rather be bored than dealing with people. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and for a moment he considered just ignoring it but… no. He got it out, unsurprised to see Unknown Caller. Alex. He had to use secure phones to make sure no one could track him using their phone calls.

Sighing softly, he answered the phone, leaning against the counter. “Alex.”

“ Hey, man! It’s been a couple weeks since we talked. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” Ghost lied. He knew Alex would know it was a lie, but he never called him on it. Alejandro would say it was bullshit to Ghost’s face which… Ghost would reluctantly admit he appreciated it. Sometimes, he needed someone to take him at his word, sometimes he needed someone to call him out.

Now, he really didn’t want anyone to call him out. “How are you?” He asked, genuinely caring about the answer. Alex and Alejandro had become Ghost’s only friends. So, he wanted to know how they were doing.

“ Good! Really good. I uh… got to see Gaz, again. He and Price were out here helping Farah find me when I had, you know, gone missing again. They just left.”

Ghost barely resisted teasing him about Gaz. “That’s good. I’m glad they still help you.”

“ Have you uh… talked to Soap, lately?”

Ghost just snorted and then sighed. “I’ll talk to Mactavish one day, but… not for now, no. I tried.” Once. “All he did was apologize.”

“ He does feel bad.”

“Did you call me just to convince me to talk to him?”

“... maybe. I may have promised Gaz that I’d try to talk to you. Soap is, apparently, really torn up about it. Price sent him to Las Almas while he and Gaz were helping us so Alejandro and Rodolfo could babysit him. ”

Ghost wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t feel bad. But… when Soap had agreed and pushed for Ghost to be discharged… Ghost had felt betrayed. Soap had claimed it was for Ghost’s own good, but Ghost had, only a week before, confided in Soap and told him how badly he needed the military to stay sane. How he had nowhere else to go if he wasn’t there. 

“ Ghost. You almost fucking killed yourself because of a PTSD episode. ”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Ghost defended. Hey, he hadn’t said it wasn’t justified. It just… made him feel betrayed. 

Alex sighed. “ You don’t need to, Ghost. I know how you are. We’ve been friends for a while now. Since Verdansk. ” Honestly, even before Verdansk. They’d worked a few missions before, though Ghost had been freshly traumatized and hadn’t wanted to admit he still needed friends.

Ghost grumbled under his breath before just sighing. “You’re right.” He admitted. One thing he’d been working on was not sabotaging his friendships. “Thanks for calling, Alex.”

“ Of course, Ghost. You’re my friend, I want you to be okay. Just… look, the old man says you don’t have to talk to him, but… talk to Soap. At least tell him you’re not mad at him.”

Ghost huffed. “I am mad-”

“ Lie! ” Alex almost sounded like he was snapping at Ghost, but Ghost knew what Alex snapping sounded like. “ Lie, like everyone does to make you feel better. ”

“Ouch. Low blow.” Ghost mumbled, just hearing Alex hum in response. “Alright, alright. I’ll… think about it.”

“ I guess that’s really the best I can ask for. ” 

“It is.” Ghost agreed and then frowned when he heard the bell for the door chime. “I have to go. Bye.” 

“ Alright. Talk to Soap! Bye. ” Alex hung up and Ghost shoved his phone back in his pocket, shaking his head.

He really did appreciate him, even if his correct advice irritated Ghost sometimes. Ghost went back to tapping on the glass of the cigarette counter, watching some young teenager walk around the store. He didn’t look like a delinquent, so Ghost didn’t bother to keep that close of an eye on him. 

He did, however, keep a very close eye on the two new customers that had walked in. Both were dressed in dark clothing with their hoods up and Ghost could see tattoos peeking out of their hoods, on their necks. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Wannabe gangsters who, if faced with even the slightest bit of actual organized crime, would likely end up pissing their trousers.

Snot nosed little prats, essentially. 

God, he hoped they’d do it. He hoped they’d try to make a few hundred off of that store. Do it, please.

The first one to enter finally came up to the counter with some sodas and a few candy bars. A bag of Malteasers, too. Ghost, occasionally continuing to glance to the other two, rang up the items, unable to help noticing how the kid shrank away from him. “What’s your name?” Ghost asked, though he didn’t honestly care. 

“Dean…” The kid answered, avoiding Ghost’s eyes. “I just got off school.”

Ghost had been like that, once. Felt the need to over explain so no one would think he was trying to cause trouble. He’d more than outgrown that, since he couldn’t care less what anyone thought he was doing. 

He continued to ring up the items, about to tell him the total, when one of the two delinquents came up to the counter. “Hey, my mate needs help.” They said, not at all looking urgent. Ghost noted that they had a tattoo that looked like a dragon coiled in a spiral. He kind of liked it, actually. May get something similar.

“I’ll help in a moment.” Ghost said, trying not to roll his eyes. His boss had mentioned him being nicer to the customers, so he decided to make an effort. “Let me finish ringing this customer up.”

“No, he needs help, now .” A gun was pulled and pointed directly at Ghost. Ghost, however, just stared down the barrel. 

The kid immediately backed up, but the gun moved and pointed at him instead. “Don’t fucking move, or I’ll blast your head off.”

Ghost felt giddy. He felt excited. “Let him go-” He stopped and raised his hands as the gun moved to be pointed at him, instead, and he sighed. “Look, I’ll comply with whatever you ask. I’ll empty the till, hell I’ll get in the safe, just let the kid go.”

“You’ll comply with whatever I ask, regardless,” The delinquent all but growled, shoving the barrel of the gun into Ghost’s shoulder, “but uh… fine. The kid can go.” He gestured and Ghost handed the kid his bag, before the kid immediately ran off.

“Ethan!” The other called, coming up to the counter right as the kid was running off. “Why the fuck did you do that?! He’s seen our faces!”

“Yeah, as if that will matter. He’s a kid, he probably forgot.” Ethan muttered and then shook his head. “Alright, old man, open the till.”

Ghost had to resist grabbing the delinquent's face and slamming it into the glass counter, just turning and putting his keycode in to open the register. He had to fight not to get over excited and just beating the shit out of them. He was fairly certain that gun wasn’t loaded, but smart enough to avoid risking it. 

He took his time, however, watching them eye him as he got out the bills and laid them on the counter. “Your bracelet,” The unnamed one said. “I like it, I want it.”

“Too fucking bad.” Ghost refused to give them that. Maybe he was mad at Soap, but it’d been a gift. One he deeply appreciated and didn’t want to lose. 

“Give him the fucking bracelet!” Ethan cursed and pointed the gun right at Ghost’s head, shaking it as if to punctuate his point.

Ghost stared down the barrel, knowing exactly what type of gun it was. .22, no modifications. Of course not, why would it have any? Ghost leaned forward and put his forehead on the gun. “Do it. Because you’re not getting that bracelet.”

Ethan looked in his eyes and for a moment, Ghost thought he saw his finger tighten around the trigger, but then he saw it. Hesitation. He didn’t want to kill anyone. 

Ghost immediately took advantage of that, reaching up and yanking the gun out of Ethan’s hand, moving his head to the side as the movement caused Ethan to flinch and pull the trigger. Glancing behind himself, he saw a bullet hole in the wall. So it was loaded.

Huh.

He released the magazine, seeing it indeed was loaded and just dropped it, shaking his head and slamming the gun onto the counter. “Idiots.”

“Who are you?” The unnamed one immediately asked, his eyes widened.

“A ghost.” Ghost simply answered before reaching over, grabbing the back of his head, and slamming his face into the counter, grateful when it didn’t break. He then used his elbow to hit Ethan full force in the face, leaping over the counter as Ethan stumbled.

He took said bracelet, which was a very thick steel chained bracelet, and slid it up and over his hand, wrapping his arm around the unnamed one’s neck and starting to slam the side of his now chain wrapped fist into the unnamed one's face after maneuvering so he could.

However, before he could do any real damage, something was slamming into his side, sending him into a shelf, causing it to topple over with him on top of it. The air was knocked out of his lungs and he coughed, slowly rolling over so he could push himself to stand back up.

“Are you okay?” He heard Ethan ask the other and he glanced back, seeing Ethan was touching the other’s nose. “Dan, are you okay?”

“Oh, piss off. Let’s just fuck this asshole up and go. Fuck the cash.” Dan’s nose was bleeding heavily and it dripped down his face and his neck. He looked pissed, but Ghost didn’t fucking care, finishing rising to his feet and rolling his shoulders.

He watched Dan and Ethan both prepare themselves, before Dan was running at Ghost, who punched him as soon as he got close and shoved him to the side, catching Ethan mid air as he launched at Ghost and using the momentum to send him into the shelf he’d just shoved Ghost into.

Dan was up almost immediately, and he grabbed a bottle of something, a glass bottle, and hit it over Ghost’s head, which disoriented him. But only for a moment, as he immediately punched Dan again.

He grabbed Dan’s arm and was halfway to snapping his elbow when Ethan launched at him, again. Christ, he only had one move, but it was effective that time as Ghost toppled over, Ethan on top of him.

Impact after impact hit Ghost’s face, only making him angry and he felt beside him, throwing up his arm to block the punches before his hand was wrapping around a broken piece of glass and he slashed up, cutting across Ethan’s face. 

Ethan flinched and Ghost used that to his advantage, shoving him off and standing before cursing as something sharp stabbed into his side, jerking back and feeling his side where a knife now stuck out of it. 

He looked at the knife and then made eye contact with Dan, who was watching him with his eyes wide, as he yanked the knife out of his side. Ghost couldn’t help laughing, since they looked so terrified. Good.

Maybe Alex had a point about him being a bit edgy. Regardless, Ghost flipped the knife so he was holding it correctly and stepped forward, slashing across Dan’s face and giving him a matching cut to Ethan’s. 

He then kicked Dan in the stomach, sending him flying back, and he elbowed Ethan before Ethan could even really do anything, before grabbing his shoulder and shoving him so he landed on top of Dan.

He went over to Ethan, kicking him off of Dan, and grabbed Dan’s collar, using the hand who held the knife to pull his face mask down and spit out blood to the side. “I won’t fault you two idiots for picking the wrong fucking shop to sack, but if I ever see your faces again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Dan’s eye was already swollen and he just quickly nodded, so Ghost dropped him. “Get the fuck out of my shop.” Ghost growled and they both were immediately up and practically sprinting out of the store, tripping over themselves in their attempt to get out. 

Finally, the pain slammed into Ghost and he cursed loudly, looking down at where blood was now staining his black hoodie. Bastards. He shook his head and then cursed again as his phone rang, shaking his head. 

Jason showed on the caller ID and Ghost rolled his eyes, knowing he needed to answer or Jason would refuse to give him what he needed. So, he did. “Jason.”

“ Bloody hell, you sound even more irritated than normal.”

“What do you want?” Ghost spit out more blood and put the phone between his cheek and shoulder, going to the shelf and lifting it so it was back upright, glad to see none of the shelves looked bent. 

Jason chuckled, softly, which just irritated Ghost more. “ Am I still coming by, after your shift, to give you that shit?”

“It’d be nice.” Ghost grunted, putting all of the snacks back on the shelf, though he didn’t do it very neatly. Fuck that. He noticed that most of the money was still on the counter, so he shrugged and went to it, putting it all back in the till. 

“ See you then. ”

“Wait. Grab a first aid kit.”

“... Why?”

-

Ghost resisted growling in pain, having had to walk through Jason cauterizing the stab wound, since it was in too odd of an angle for Ghost to do it himself. “Christ, Simon. How did you manage this?”

“Two idiots sacked the shop.” Ghost muttered, gritting his teeth as Jason cleaned the fresh burn before finally bandaging it. “I defended it.”

“You could have just rang the police.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Ghost shrugged and rolled his shirt back down, only having raised enough of it for Jason to bandage him. “Did you bring my shit?”

“Your shit?? You haven’t even paid me, yet. You’re lucky I’m bringing it at all, since it’ll practically take a fortnight for you to pay me for it.”

“You still bring it.” Ghost reminded, taking a paper bag as it was handed to him. Self medicating, another cope with the perpetual boredness. 

“You’re welcome.” Jason grumbled before hopping up and sitting on the wooden pallets beside Ghost, getting out a cigarette and lighting it. Ghost took it before he could start to smoke it and Jason just sighed and lit another. “You’re a prick.”

Ghost grunted in response, lifting his mask to take a long drag from the cigarette and watching some stray cats run across the street. “There was a kid there. Before they started to rob the store. He looked scared shitless.”

“Yeah, no wonder.” Jason agreed and then sighed. “Well, did you get all of the aggression out of your system?”

“Sure.” Ghost lied. No, no he hadn’t. He probably never would. Knocking punching bags down from the ceiling didn’t help, and neither had this. “Feel better.” That wasn’t a complete lie, he did feel… almost lighter.

“I saw that sergeant the other day. The one you guys call Soap? Asked me about you.”

“What did you say?” Ghost asked, though he honestly doubted Jason had said anything. Jason hardly knew anything.

Jason went quiet before sighing. “Just told him the truth. You hardly talk to me, either. All he really did was ask how you are, anyway. Mentioned worrying you’d do something drastic to yourself.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I will.” Ghost shrugged, again. “Maybe I’ll jump off a bridge or-”

“Don’t joke like that.” Jason sighed, sounding exhausted. “Simon, you’d do it. We all know you would.”

Ghost went silent and continued to watch the cats. “Maybe.” He finally said before taking another drag from the cigarette and shaking his hand out as it started to hurt, again. “You can tell him where I work if he comes to you, again.”

Jason simply nodded, Ghost could see it out of the corner of his eye, and Ghost finished off his cigarette before stomping it out and discarding the butt of it. “Thanks for my shit. I’ll get you the money later.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jason just snorted before getting up as well. However, before he even really got a distance away, he glanced back before turning around. “That kid. Did you make them let him go?”

Ghost sighed but nodded. “I did.” He knew what Jason’s next question would be.

“Why?”

Hesitantly, Ghost looked at Jason before sighing again and shaking his head. “He reminded me of Tommy.”

Jason’s eyes immediately moved away from Ghost and he turned back around. “Try to get some sleep, Ghost.” He mumbled before finally heading off. 

Ghost furrowed his brows for a few small moments before shaking it off and heading back to his flat, which was… empty. It was an open floor plan and Alex and Alejandro had both came and helped him move in.

Entirely independent of each other, too, apparently. 

Rodolfo had been there, though he’d mostly just sat with Ghost while Alex and Alejandro did most of the work and then he’d used Ghost’s kitchen to cook a decently sized dinner. If they hadn’t done that, Ghost was fairly positive he’d have killed himself.

Ghost shook his head and pulled off his clothing before falling into bed. He kept the curtains closed and no one ever came by, so he was comfortable enough to show his body. “Show” being used lightly, since again. No one was seeing it.

He’d let Soap see it… once…

For weeks afterward, Ghost had considered that shower to be one of the better moments of his life. It had been after they’d gotten trapped in Las Almas and Rodolfo had told them to shower and clean up before heading out.

There’d been a lot of feelings that Ghost was maybe not ready to confront, and maybe he still wasn’t ready. No, he definitely wasn’t ready now. But, Ghost had hardly even thought about it when Soap had asked him to join. 

That was a lie, he’d thought very hard about it. His hands had shaken the entire time as Soap had helped him discard his clothing, but Soap hadn’t said a word. Just smiled as he washed Simon’s hair. Not Ghost’s, Simon’s hair. 

Asked if he bleached it, which Simon had nodded and said he did. I’m naturally a ginger. But, hard to keep it well taken care of under the mask. So, I bleach it. Considered shaving it all off a few times. 

Don’t you dare, LT.

No. Don’t call me that right now. Just… Just use Simon. That’s who I am.

Alright… Simon.

Ghost rolled onto his back and shook his head. Even now, he didn’t feel like Simon. Simon had been a weak tether… He knew people probably considered Simon the weak scared little Sergeant that Ghost kept locked away, but Simon wasn’t afraid to show his face.

Simon didn’t need the military, Ghost did. 

Simon had slept around and laughed at dumbass jokes from pretty Sergeants with a bit too much confidence. Simon purred when fingers ran through hair as Soap dripped down his skin. Simon loved and could be loved.

Ghost wasn’t that. Ghost was broken and harsh and liked beating the shit out of people who annoyed him. Ghost growled at everything and tore skin. 

Simon would have forgiven Johnny. Simon would have smiled and touched his face as he forgave him. Said he knew Johnny meant no harm by it. 

Ghost couldn’t forgive. He’d lost that ability. He’d lost it when he was angry, digging himself out of a grave he had no right to be in. When all he had wanted to do was burn the world to the ground and settled on systematically ending every single person who had ever participated in his torture, who had ever hurt him. 

All Ghost knew how to do, anymore, was be angry. 

-

“I am begging you to go fuck yourself.” Ghost cursed into the phone, trying very hard to multitask while he bought a meager amount of groceries for the week. Alex was, again, doing his best to convince Ghost to… live. Or something. 

“ Ghost, don’t be like that. When was the last time you… went to the gym or something?”

Actually, Ghost went fairly frequently. It was the only thing that kept the overwhelming anger at bay, sometimes. “Yesterday.”

“ Of course you go to the gym but do nothing else. ”

“I feel like this was a trap question.” Ghost huffed, tossing his items onto the belt. He just pointed at the paper bags before the cashier could ask and turned around, touching his forehead. “I am living. I’m still here.”

“ No. You’re surviving, that’s different. Farah has said she can get a helo to pick you up and you can come here for a few days.”

Actually… that didn’t sound too awful. Ghost considered it.

“ She has ulterior motives, of course. You could help her get rid of a few thorns…”

It was so incredibly tempting, but Ghost knew Alex. He gave an inch and Alex would immediately take a mile, because he knew he could get away with it and Ghost would barely fight him. “I don’t think Price will be happy with that.”

“ Fuck the old man, I’m worried about you. ”

“I can’t.” Ghost nodded to the cashier when they gestured to the card reader, getting out his card. “I think I’m getting used to civilian life.”

“ Yeah, that’s what worries me. Alright, Ghost, just… fuck, man, just talk to someone.”

Ghost just laughed. He said his goodbyes to Alex before shoving the phone back in his pocket, taking his bags and the receipt, pausing as he realized he recognized the cashier. “Dean?” He asked before he could really stop himself.

The cashier, or Dean, the kid from the shop, looked startled before his eyes went wide. “Oh! It’s you! You made them let me go.”

“Yeah.” Ghost frowned and then shook his head. He hoped the kid wouldn’t try to give him the whole “Thanks for saving my life” spiel. He didn’t honestly need or want it. 

“I was, uh… Going to come by the shop, but… Well, since you’re here.” Dean got into his pocket before digging out a black box. “I remembered you had one on.”

Ghost tilted his head, hating how curious he immediately was. Okay, he could accept a gift as thanks. He took the box and opened it, seeing a thin silver bracelet, which kind of matched his other. “Thanks…” He said, kind of dumbly, and put the bracelet on, handing the box back. “It’s uh… nice.”

“My mum wants me to invite you to dinner as thanks-”

Ghost just laughed and took his bags. “Yeah, no thanks kid. Stay out of trouble.” He left before the kid could say anything else, not wanting to listen to any attempts to convince him. He was not interested in going to dinner with anyone as thanks for saving their life. 

He shook his head as he left the store, shifting both paper bags to one arm so he could check his phone, pausing on the sidewalk for a moment. When he lifted his eyes, he met bright blue ones, and he backed up as he recognized them.

Of course he would, he’d recognize them anywhere. 

Soap stood across the street, looking as startled as Ghost felt. Then, Soap started to cross the street, so Ghost turned and immediately started down the sidewalk, back to his flat, hoping if he entirely ignored Soap, that he might just go away.

“Ghost-” Soap called behind him, but Ghost just kept walking, ducking down an alley when he passed by a crowd, and ducking down behind a trash can, watching Soap rush past the opening of the alley.

Ghost rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning around and going out the other side of the alley, just taking the long way home. 

He still wasn’t ready to confront Soap. Maybe he never would be. 

Simon, I- It’s for your own good.

Ghost. It’s Ghost. That’s who I am.

I-

Goodbye, Soap.

His phone buzzed. He checked it, again shifting the bags, and saw it was his boss. I need you to work a late shift.

Yeah, sure. When?

Tomorrow night, until 2 in the morning.

Ghost sent a thumbs up. He didn’t really care about the money, but he also didn’t have anything better to do, so he’d just take the shift. 

Really, it’d just be cutting into his “get high and mope” time. 

God, the great and legendary Ghost, who the mere thought of had had people shaking, had had them terrified. Recruits watched him with awe. Hell, people would whisper his name even when they were countries apart because they were terrified of invoking his wrath.

And every night between 11 and 3, he would get absurdly fucking high and desperately fight to be able to produce just one fucking tear.

How the mighty fall.

Ghost shook it off and finally made it to his apartment, going up to his door, and then immediately turning around as he heard footsteps approach, growling in frustration as he saw Soap. “Fuck, you’re stubborn.”

“You used to like that about me.” Soap answered before putting his hands up. “I just want to talk, Ghost.”

“I don’t.” Ghost muttered, unlocking his door and going inside. “I don’t ever want to.”

“Ghost, please…” Soap pleaded, putting his hand on the door before Ghost could shut it. Ghost had enough strength he could just slam it, anyway, but… he didn’t and just looked away from Soap. “Ghost…”

“Fine.” Ghost rolled his eyes and backed away from the door, gesturing for Soap to come in. He shut the door behind him and Ghost went to go put his groceries away. “What do you want?”

“To talk, like I said.”

“Fine. What about?”

“I… I’m sorry-”

“No.” Ghost shook his head. “I do not want to hear your apologies, I do not forgive you. So…” He waved his hand a little. “Pick something else.” He looked up, seeing Soap looked almost startled. 

Soap almost looked unsure what else to do and his eyes moved to look around the apartment. “It’s… nice.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ghost shook his head, again, and wondered if people could hear his brain rattle when he did that. “Alex and Alejandro helped me set it up.”

“I like it.” Soap moved and sat at a small kitchen table that Ghost had. Reluctantly, Ghost moved and sat across from him, watching Soap think. He was very expressive when he thought, his eyes would shift around, his jaw would clench and unclench, his hands would flex. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” Ghost asked, leaning back in his chair. “You wouldn’t have to if you didn’t… you know, sign off that you thought I needed to be discharged.”

Soap flinched and Ghost almost felt bad. Almost. “Ghost… I’m sorry. ”

“If it happened again, would you do it again?”

Soap didn’t answer before he was nodding. “I would.”

“Then you’re not sorry. Sorry is a synonym for remorseful.” Ghost got up and went to a bookshelf he had, getting out a dictionary. “Remorse, defined as deep regret or guilt for a wrong committed. You don’t think you were wrong and I doubt you regret it.” He moved and dropped the book on the table, watching Soap jump again. “So, you’re not sorry.”

Soap watched him, his eyes wide, and Ghost went to his bed, dropping onto it and covering his eyes with his arm. “I’m done entertaining guests. Goodbye, Soap.”

“Ghost-”

“ Goodbye , Soap.” Ghost reiterated. He peeked out from under his arm when he heard Soap move, and Soap seemed to hesitate before getting up.

Soap, however, then picked up the dictionary, flipping through the pages. “Sorry. Define, feeling distress, especially through sympathy with someone else's misfortune. So, I am sorry.” Soap sighed and then put the dictionary down. 

“Goodbye, Soap.”

Soap looked at Ghost before his shoulders dropped and he nodded. “Alright. Goodbye, Ghost.” Then, Soap left, and Ghost rolled onto his stomach, glaring at a wall. 

Fuck Soap.

He didn’t get much time to wallow, though. God, it was like everyone had some sort of bullshit sensor that sensed when Ghost wanted to be fucking left alone. Jason.

Groaning, he grabbed his phone and put it to his ear. “What?”

“ Don’t snap at me. I’ll stop giving you that shit. Anyway, one of those guys that robbed you… did they have a dragon tattoo?”

Ghost had to think about it before frowning. “Yeah… one of those punks, Ethan, did. It was coiled in a spiral.”

“ Fuck! Look, they’re part of a real gang… And they’re angry. They want to kill you.”

“Let them try.” Ghost put his phone between his cheek and ear, sitting up and grabbing his laptop. “What are they even going to do? I’ve wiped out worse than gangs.”

“ Yeah, when you had John Price and the fucking British military behind your ass. You just barely even have yourself! What are you going to do if 30-40 gang members come after you?”

Ghost chuckled. Jason didn’t really know about Roba or his cartel. He didn’t know what Ghost had done. “I can handle it.”

“ Simon. Please.”

“I’m not going to get killed, Jason. I’ll be fine.” Ghost sighed and picked up his phone again, putting it on speaker. “What’s the gang’s name?”

“ Why would I tell you?! You’re just going to do something stupid!! Simon, please just lay low.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Ghost shook his head, laying back in the bed. “If they want to kill me, they can take their best shot.”

“ I’ll call Price. ” 

“You don’t have his number.”

“ Simon, please.”

Ghost sighed and closed his eyes. “Fine. I won’t… seek them out. But I’m not laying low. I’ll just continue life as normal and then… if they come for me, I’ll defend myself. Anyway, I have to go to bed, so…” He pulled away his phone to hang up.

“ Simon, Simon!”

Ghost hung up, anyway, and sighed softly. He searched the internet for the spiraled dragon tattoo, but after about twenty minutes of searching, he’d found only a tattoo shop that had a neck tattoo with the same coiled dragon.

Open all night. Perfect.

So, he got back up, grabbed his keys again as well as his phone and wallet and headed down the stairs. The tattoo shop was one he sort of knew. Rather, he knew of, as a couple of Jason’s mates had gotten tattoos there. But, he’d never personally been.

When he got there, he rolled his shoulders before going in, trying to look as big and imposing as possible. He went up to the counter, where a man sat, looking bored. He could hear the buzzing of tattoo needles as he walked, the murmuring of artists making chit chat with their clients.

It was surprisingly busy, considering it was close to 1:30 AM. However, he ignored that, tapping on the counter when he got up there, watching the man look at him. Ghost looked on the wall and got down the coiled dragon tattoo.

“Sorry, mate, we don’t do repeat tattoos. You thinking of something similar?” He asked, and his shirt said Michael. So, that’s what Ghost decided to call him.

“No, Michael, I am not.” Ghost laid the photo out on the counter, tapping it. “I want to know who got that tattoo and what gang they belong to.”

Michael looked at him and then he chuckled, whistling. Ghost raised an eyebrow and looked around, seeing that most of the artists had stopped tattooing, now looking at him. His eyes did pick up a few weapons here and there.

So, he sighed, straightened, and rolled his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of a fight.” He informed Michael, who laughed. “I just want to know.”

Michael shook his head. “Are you afraid of death? Maybe you ought to turn back around and leave. Nice and easy like, yes?”

Ghost narrowed his eyes and he slammed his hands on the glass counter, leaning in real close to Michael. “My name is Simon Riley. No, I’m not afraid of death, however you very much should be because if you don’t give me the information I want, that pen,” he gestured to a pen very close to his hand, “is going to lodge directly into your trachea.”

Michael squinted and looked about ready to fire off before one of the older artists came over, his face pale. “Did you say… Simon Riley?”

Ghost straightened and frowned, turning to the old man. “I did.” He nodded, glancing over the others and seeing a few other confused faces. 

The old man immediately shoved his weapon, a pole, into Ghost’s hands and backed up, putting his hands up. “I… I… I want no hand in fighting phantoms.” He turned and rushed to what looked like the back and Ghost raised an eyebrow as he heard a couple locks click. 

He turned back to Michael, who now looked very apprehensive and concerned. “Let me try this again-”

He barely had to finish the threat as Michael was immediately spilling everything, complete with pictures and a home address. Ghost laughed victoriously as he exited the tattoo shop, shaking his head. No hand in fighting phantoms. He liked that one. 

Ethan Kurt… Ethan had shoved his hand into fighting the wrong phantom. 

No, that line sucked.

-

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Ghost was so fucking bored. With the threat of being attacked being supposed to be hanging over his head, this was dull. He was starting to think Jason was entirely full of shit, but… he decided he would remain vigilant regardless.

Oh well.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Was it really still only 11:00PM? Granted, he only had three hours left but… fuck. Maybe after this, he would call Alex. He knew it would shock the hell out of him, maybe that’d be hilarious. Listen to him stammer and try not to say anything about it. 

No, because then he’d feel bad and feel like a bad friend and that was bullshit. Ghost didn’t want to be pathetic, wondering if he was a “bad friend.” He was a horrible friend, probably one of the worst, he knew that. He was a grown, almost 30 year old man. Of course he knew that.

Of course.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Lights.

Ghost perked up, seeing what looked like flashlights shining around outside. He ducked down just a little, going to the side window and peeking out, seeing a group of people start to go around to the outside of the building. He could make out 4 which…

If this was the gang supposedly attacking him, he would barely have to do anything. Knock some heads together, break some limbs, done. That was… almost disappointing. 

He returned back to the counter and decided to play nonchalant, sitting on a stool and getting out his phone to play on it. Actually, he’d found some pretty interesting phone games. Card games, those match three games. Some military games which he liked to critique and laugh at. 

They were good to pass the time with and usually didn’t require much thinking, so he kept them around. Currently, he was playing a word game with Rodolfo. Both actually had a fairly high vocabulary in American English, all points considering, so it could get fun. Rodolfo had actually switched the game’s language to Spanish a few times to help Ghost practice.

However, he didn’t go easy on him or help, either, so Ghost lost at an… honestly embarrassing ratio. Alejandro had just told him to take it in stride, that Rodolfo doesn’t really think of those things. Which… Ghost knew that. He knew Rodolfo was similar to him. Sure, he could blame most of it on the trauma but… some of it was genetic. He knew that. Rodolfo was the same.

Besides, it had helped a little. Just a little.

Actually, he missed Alejandro and Rodolfo. He’d never say it to their faces, but it’d been a while since he saw them. It was nearing Christmas, so he knew they’d be taking their forced leave. He also knew if he even hinted at the idea, Alejandro would have a helo down the next day. So, maybe he could go for a couple days. He’d love Rodolfo’s cooking again, and going to bars with Alejandro sounded really nice.

God, fuck, Alex was rubbing off on him or something. What was this… hope?? Disgusting.

Ghost immediately shook it off, just playing a random word against Rudy, laughing softly when he saw two little ?? back because Ghost usually played big words that had Rodolfo cussing him out. Then, he stuck his phone back in his pocket, hearing the bell of the door chime.

He stood, going back to the register, before raising an eyebrow as he didn’t see anyone there. Hmm, he knew the obvious answer would be that they’d changed their mind and left, but… Ghost didn’t trust like that. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he realized that he was being taunted. Lured. They wanted him to go outside. Carefully, he felt under the counter where he’d stuck a shotgun, as well as several shells, and then he leaned against the counter, waiting. He wasn’t prey, and he wanted them to know that.

Ghost checked the time, seeing it was now midnight, and he took a breath, reluctantly leaving the counter to check everything he’d set up. The back door had a nailbomb set just right for when it was opened, the side door had a packet of noisemakers so he’d hear if it opened.

And, the front door had a bell. Everything else was in a duffel bag behind the counter. He would… admit that he may have had small kleptomanic tendencies and had maybe stolen a few things when he was being discharged.

Obviously things like semtex and frags would not be good to use in the store, but hey, flashes and stuns were free game. No, he didn’t care if he ended up blinding a few punks, he had plans to do more than blind them. 

And then all of his copious amounts of knives. So many knives. 

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

More lights. It seemed they had noticed he wasn’t biting the bait, as several of the lights had started to surround the small building. And finally, someone came in. Dan. He recognized him fairly easily, even though his hood was down now. 

“Hello, old man.” Dan said, in a tone clearly meant to be taunting. He had a gun, something a bit heavier than the .22 they’d had before. 

“I’m 30.” Ghost sighed, shaking his head. “I turned 30 last month.”

Dan paused, clearly started. “You’re only thirty?” He blinked before immediately shaking it off. “Whatever. You know why I’m here.”

“Maybe.” Ghost acknowledged, moving to sit on the stool again. “I’m confused why you decided you needed to bring… 30? 30 other prats with you.”

Dan glared at him, before shaking his head. “Nobody fucks with me and gets away with it.”

“I’m confused, mate, you tried to rob me.” Ghost laughed, crossing his arms. “You came into my work and had your mate put a gun to my head. Then you tried to rob me.”

“You could have just given us the money and we would have left!” Dan snapped. Ghost could see a bandage on his cheek, which appeared to be in need of changing. “So, now, we’re going to bloody kill you.”

“Sure.” Ghost laughed, nodding. “Go ahead. Take your best shot.” He hummed, standing and leaning against the counter. “Maybe you want to go and reconvene with your buddies. If you leave, I won’t do anything. I won’t seek you. I won’t hunt you down. But… if you stay, well… you’ve been warned.”

Dan’s glare only deepened. “You’re quite cocky.”

“I think I’ve earned it.” Ghost said. “Like I said. You have one chance.”

Dan appeared about to answer, likely to make some stupid quip, but then Ghost heard a small explosion from the back and some screaming, and he chuckled. “Too late.”

Dan stared behind Ghost into the back, clearly stunned, and Ghost ducked down, grabbing the shotgun and shooting at Dan. Dan was quick to duck out of the way, barely managing to be missed by any spray. 

Then, Ghost was having to duck down to avoid gun spray, rummaging in the bag for a smoke and tossing it into the back, before grabbing a knife and ducking through the doorway. He followed the sound of coughing, able to make out five distinct individual coughs.

The first was fairly close to the doorway that led to the front of the store, so he swept their legs and slit their throat, not wasting time to look at their face or even really wait for them to die. He just shoved them directly in the path of another, who stumbled backwards over them.

They hit the ground rather hard and Ghost pounced on the opportunity, stabbing them through the eye and directly into their brain. He backed up as he noticed two figures come towards him, watching them stumble through the smoke.

One tripped on his friend’s body and they landed right on top of the pair, and Ghost could just make out their eyes widening, before he threw the knife through their temple. The second spotted him right as he did that, and he rolled to the side to avoid being shot, throwing the smoke canister at them.

It hit them square in the stomach and they doubled over, coughing, so Ghost lunged forward and yanked the gun out of their hands. He stuck it right into their chest and shot through, sending them backwards.

Footsteps.

He whipped around and shot who had just tried to sneak up on him through the head, right as the smoke started to clear. Rushing, he slid to shut the door before sprinting back out to the front, narrowly ducking in time to avoid being hit in the head by the butt of a gun.

He slammed the butt of his own gun into the person who tried to attack him, recognizing Ethan who hit the ground with a snarl. “Fuck.” Ghost growled. “It’s clear you don’t want to be doing this, why are you?”

Ethan paused, clearly surprised, and then he glared. “Dan’s like my brother. Wherever he goes, I go.”

“Say hello to him in hell, then, I guess.” Ghost muttered, and went to shoot him, before crying out in surprise as something tore through his side. He looked down at his side, seeing a gun shot wound. 

Being smart, though, he still shot Ethan through the head, cursing, and ignoring yelling behind him. He ducked back through the doorway of the back, checking how many bullets were left in the magazine of his gun. Enough, but he didn’t really want to use it, anyway.

So, he tossed it to the side and yanked the knife out of that temple he’d thrown it through, patting the dead body and having to resist the knee jerk reaction to thank it. Instead, he crouched low and stayed close to the wall and the doorway, listening and hearing several footsteps near.

He could see his duffel bag just a small distance away and now he had to consider if it was worth diving for it to retrieve another smoke grenade, before ducking again as more gun spray came. He winced as he saw if he’d stayed where he was, several bullets would have landed directly in his body.

Bollocks. 

He shook his head and stayed as low as possible, ducking through the doorway and sliding to his bag, very glad to see a flash was sitting at the top. Turning, he depinned and tossed it right in the middle of a group coming towards him, before covering his eyes.

When he opened them, he saw they were stumbling over themselves, which almost had him laughing softly, but he resisted and took a very small moment to check the wound on his side, cursing as he saw it was an all the way through gunshot. 

However, the placement of it made him think that whoever shot him really didn’t know what they were doing. 

He grabbed the shotgun, and turned, blasting the small group of four he’d flashed, before panting and peeking over the counter to see how many were in the store, glad to see that so far there was none. 

Carefully inching to the group of four, he growled as he saw none of them were Dan. “Where’s Dan?” He asked one, which was wheezing and holding a hole in his stomach. He seemed to be hit with the majority of the blast. 

“Fuck you.” They coughed, blood coming up with it. “They’re gonna fucking kill you.”

“I’ve gotten ten of you.” Ghost rolled his eyes, ignoring a pulse of pain from his side. He killed them with his knife, swiftly, and went to the next one, which was holding his leg. “Where’s Dan?”

“I’m not telling you-” He killed them, too. Fuck them.

Of course, the other two had to be just as stubborn, and they went just as fast. It seemed his enemies were reconvening, so he took the opportunity to as well, very shittily bandaging up his side. Another scar to add to the pile.

God, he was having so much fun. He felt like he was back on a mission, again, clearing out some enemy encampment. Adrenaline coursed through every vein in his body and he loved the feeling of it. He missed this so fucking much.

Carefully, he peeked over the counter again, frowning as he saw nothing. No lights, no people. Nothing… Well, he still saw the dead bodies, so he knew this wasn’t a case of him losing his mind. He narrowed his eyes and slowly stood, ready to duck down at the slightest hint of gun fire, but… he saw nothing.

Even still, he grabbed a smoke grenade out of the duffel bag, only having another flash and two stuns. He uh… hadn’t been able to grab much. 

He also put new shells into the shotgun, keeping both close as he carefully inched out from behind the counter, peeking around the shelves and seeing that there was no one. Nothing. Considering, he ducked into the back, checking the security cameras.

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have the code, but he could fucking care less. He watched the footage and saw… they were all gone. No one was around the building.

Had they gotten freaked out and left?? No… He seriously doubted that. 

But if they hadn’t left, what the fuck was this? Did they plan to come back at a later day and try to surprise him? Maybe. That made the most sense. Whatever, he’d be ready. He did have to figure out how he’d explain the bullet holes and dead bodies but… eh, he doubted Price would let him take the fall for it.

Plus, he’d disappeared once, he could do it again.

So, he went out to the front, planning to drag each body to the back and stack them in a pile. A neat little pile. Then, he’d finish out his shift by mopping up all of the blood and go the fuck home.

Sleep sounded very nice, he wouldn’t lie. For once, it sounded fantastic. 

So, once he’d made his little pile, he went back out to the front and grabbed the mop, starting to clean up the blood. Maybe if Price did take care of this, he’d go ahead and talk to Soap. This adrenaline had him feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Warm and fuzzy enough to consider trying to talk to Soap.

He didn’t hear the car in time.

Crash.

The impact sent him flying across the shop and he hit a shelf hard, the air knocked completely out of his lungs. He fell to the ground, coughing and rolling onto his back. Fuck, something was broken.

He had no hope of dragging himself to his feet, he was far too stunned, and he coughed again, closing his eyes, before opening them to someone crouching down and getting in his face. Dan sneered at him, “I outsmarted you.”

Ghost laughed, tasting blood, and he managed to reach up to yank down his mask and spit the blood on Dan’s face, seeing him splutter and jerk back. He then snarled and raised a fist to punch Ghost.

Ghost closed his eyes, preparing for the impact, but it never came. Instead, he felt weight land on his body, and when he opened his eyes, Dan was slumped over, a gaping hope splurting blood from his head. 

Making a face, he shoved Dan off to the best of his ability, before someone was grabbing his hand and yanking him to his feet. “Dude. You just had to bring shit to yourself.”

Ghost immediately jerked to look at the person, recognizing Alex’s voice and his face immediately. “Alex?? Bloody hell, what the fuck are you doing here?” He didn’t think about it, limping forward and hugging his friend.

Alex was clearly shocked, but he hugged back and chuckled. “Your friend, Jason, called me. Apparently, he got one of my phone numbers from your phone. I think he thought he would be calling Price, but I came out all the same.”

Ghost would have been mad at Jason, but he was honestly glad to see Alex. “I had it on my own,” he joked, before wincing at a lot of pain in his sides. “Sort of.” He mumbled.

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” Alex snorted before nudging his head in the direction of the vehicle. Ghost looked over, recognizing Farah as she cleared out several more of the gang members, a young woman with her. 

“I thought she didn’t leave Urzikstan.” Ghost frowned, raising an eyebrow as she and the young woman finally came over.

“I do not attack on the offense.” Farah stated, smiling as she came over. “But, I’m always willing to help out a friend if they need it.” She held out her hand and Ghost gladly shook it, before shaking his head. “Alex was going to come alone. This is Malika, my love.” 

Malika smiled and also shook Ghost’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Alex and Farah have said a lot.”

Ghost took a breath before shaking his head. “I thought I had it.” He admitted, grunting. “I didn’t expect to be hit by a car.” The pain was almost overwhelming but… he’d again had worse. However, he did allow himself to pant a little. “Thank you.”

“Dude. What’s up with you? You’re never this sappy.” Alex joked and punched Ghost’s shoulder, before wincing as blue and red lights appeared, as well as sirens. “Fuck.”

“Get out of here.” Ghost said, gesturing to the back. “Alex, you’re still a traitor to the United States and I don’t think Farah will be treated too kindly.”

Alex appeared to hesitate before nodding. “I’ll find you tomorrow and we can talk, alright?”

“Alright.” Ghost nodded. He went to the cigarette case and got a box and a lighter, nodding a bye as all three left, almost as fast as they came, and he chuckled softly, going back to Dan’s dead body. “You still lost. Cheers, you slag.” He muttered, before standing and waiting to be arrested.

He didn’t fight his arrest, he didn’t fight being put into cuffs. When he was stuck at a table, he didn’t say anything, just wrestled a cigarette out of the box and pushed his mask up with both hands before fighting to light a cigarette one handed.

“You killed twenty people.” The officer stated. “Twenty gang members. They were heavily armed.” 

“You know, that’s a good point. How did they even have weapons? Aren’t you guys supposed to be stopping that?” Ghost leaned back in his seat, blowing out the smoke he’d taken in. 

The officer rolled her eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

Ghost took another long drag from the cigarette before slowly letting it out, seeing her phone ring. As she got it out, he chuckled. “I’m a ghost.”

She gave him a look before answering the phone. Within seconds, her face had paled, and he was let go hardly minutes later, with a half mumble to stay out of trouble. 

He walked home with a grin on his face. 

-

Alex had just left. While he was there, he and Ghost had discussed him going to Urzikstan, and Ghost had reluctantly promised to consider it. Already, he was thinking of just saying yes, disappearing to Urzikstan and running missions for Farah.

For now, though, he was sipping tea and eating lunch. Outside, too, at a little restaurant he knew and liked. He even hummed a bit as he ate, watching some birds fight over a piece of bread. What a fitting metaphor.

Soap came and sat in the chair across from him, at first silent. Ghost turned to look at him, sighing. “The charm of your tenacity has worn off, Johnny.”

“I think what I did for you will bring it back.” Soap chuckled. “After your… encounter, I talked to Price. I told him that I was wrong. I was stupid. I talked to Alex and Alejandro and both of them… agreed that you’ve been worse as a civilian. I even tracked down your friend, Jason. He uh… tore me a new one.”

“Oh?” Ghost had to admit, he was a bit shocked by that. “Over?”

“Agreeing with Price that you needed to be discharged.” Soap mumbled and then sighed. “So, I told Price that.. You’re just going to keep getting in trouble if you’re out here. He’s agreed to let you back into the SAS. He’s already pulling strings.”

Ghost blinked at Soap, quite surprised. “You’re bloody joking.”

“I wouldn’t joke about that, Ghost.” Soap winced. “He thinks you’re less of a problem in the SAS. In… the 141. He can keep an eye on you and you can’t end up antagonizing another gang.”

Ghost barely resisted exclaiming that they had tried to rob him, just sighing instead. “I don’t know. What if I have another episode again?” He snarked, feeling slightly bad when Soap winced. 

“He’s prepared to deal with it.” Soap mumbled. 

Ghost considered before shrugging. “I’ll think about it. I have a lot of offers, need to consider my options.”

Soap looked startled before laughing softly. “Alright. Consider it.”

Ghost hesitated before sighing. “Come back to my place… Johnny?”

Soap again looked startled and this time, he took a moment before relaxing.

“Of course, Simon.”

--

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jealousy, jealousy - chapter 1: sometimes, it’s good to just sit one out

f1 fanfiction: lestappen (max x charles)

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summary: we know em and love em as one of f1's spiciest rivalries. but the ferrari boys and their disgustingly cute chemistry makes max realize there's a fine line between love and hate...

chapter 1: sometimes it's good to sit one out

Two exhausting practice sessions to kick off the 2024 season later, Max Verstappen lay as motionless as possible in his bed. He glanced at his watch: 7:48pm local time. He had exactly 12 minutes of peace left, 12 minutes before he and some of the other guys on the grid would be hunting for a source of food together. He wished the Max of three hours ago hadn’t told them all to meet in his room; present Max wanted to just exist as long as possible alone.

As if someone heard his thoughts, there was a tentative knock at the door. Max flipped over, let out a groan into his pillow, and peeled himself off his bed. He looked through the peep-hole at Charles Leclerc, who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Well, if it had to be someone, better Charles than…most of the others, really.

Max cracked open the door. “You’re 10 minutes early,” he huffed. “That’s 10 minutes I can never get back.”

Charles stiffened, but relaxed when he saw what he thought was an amused glint in Max’s blue eyes. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “They have McLaren staying in the same hall as us. And I think Lando’s trying to show Oscar some horrible new mixtape.”

“Right then,” Max allowed him in. “But I’m not in a mood to chat. I’m fucking tired and plan to be as inactive as possible until the clock literally hits 8.”

“That’s okay,” Charles said quietly. He took his shoes off and climbed onto the other bed, scrolling through his phone. Max returned to his horizontal position, but no longer felt relaxed at all. He kept stealing glances at Charles, who had changed from his racing suit into a pair of linen pants and a breezy matching button-down, perfect for the muggy Bahrain weather. His curly hair was damp, and Max noted the vague citrus of his shampoo. He became acutely aware of his comparatively boring uniform of his usual Red Bull polo and skinny jeans. And then realized how ridiculous it was that he was thinking about fashion at all.

“Rough practice,” Max mused out loud to banish his thoughts.

Charles started at this unexpected comment. “Yeah—Hamilton was on one though. And Carlos did well for himself. I think he’s feeling the car more this season already.”

Max rolled over so that he could look Charles in the eye. “I saw some of the turns you made. Carlos isn’t the only one who’s feeling the car.”

Charles’ eyes widened and his lips parted, but nothing came out. Max instantly regretted his impulsive words. The two awkwardly stared at each other for a few long beats, and were mercifully interrupted by another knock, infinitely most obnoxious than the last. Actually, make that several annoying knocks.

“Oi, let us in!” Lando Norris crowed from the hallway. Max rolled his eyes at Charles, who jumped out of bed and opened the door for Lando, George Russell, and Alex Albon.

“Hey guys,” Charles greeted the group. “Where’s Carlos? I thought he was coming too.”

Carlos Sainz was Charles’ teammate on Ferrari, and although Charles himself was supposed to be one of Max’s biggest rivals, the Spanish driver had been getting on Max’s nerves as of late. There was no reason he should—Carlos was, honestly, one of the best guys on the grid. Funny, charismatic, ridiculously athletic, the owner of an enviable mane of hair and a tanned jawline that you could grate cheese over. And wholesome. So goddamned nice. Fucker could banter with literally anybody on the grid, and Max was pretty sure Carlos inspired a couple hashtag with every teammate he’d ever been with. Carlando. Charlos. So why did hearing Charles ask for him—so fast—make Max’s palms itch?

Lando furrowed his brows. “Carlos? I dunno, he might still be in hospitality. Or in the shower. Could’ve sworn I heard Smooth Operator through the bathroom wall…”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Charles said. “Well, Max is here and Danny should join us any minute, so I’ll try to go find him.” And he left the room as quietly as he’d come in.

Max rolled his eyes. “You guys are early. I said 8.”

“Be thankful we showed up early,” Lando scoffed and rubbed his hands together. “I’m a growing boy and I’m HUNGRY. You prats ought to tell me what you want to order or I’m going to call in a pizza, and I’m not sharing.”

“Carlos said he’d cook,” George reminded him. Max frowned at the thought of Carlos showing off his cooking skills, although of course since it’s Carlos, it wouldn’t be showing off.

“Well, I don’t see Carlos, nor anything he’d be able to cook with, so he’d better get a move on before—”

“Better get that pizza, Lando,” Danny abruptly strided into the room. “Carlos said he’d make breakfast, not dinner. You’ll have to wait to taste his carbonara another day.”

“Why carbonara?” George looked confused.

“Carlos and Leclerc made carbonara for that Ferrari challenge,” Max filled in. “Go watch it yourselves.”

Lando giggled, momentarily distracted from his plight. “I’ve gotten it pulled up, mate.” He tilted his phone towards George and Alex, showing them the video of Charles and Carlos duking it out in front of two induction burners in an effort to create a passable carbonara as fast as possible.

George took one look at the men clad in aprons and ridiculous red toques and burst out laughing.

Video Charles’ voice singsonged through the speakers. “Oh my god, what a mistake! You start with the eggs! Mate! You neeed to start with the guanciale, maybe a little—smell, smell the smell of carbonarrra. So then, you break the egg…right? The white of the egg, we take it off—”

“I disagree,” Video Carlos cut in.

“So the yellow of the egg only—” Video Charles attempted again.

“I disagree,” Video Carlos snapped again, and Alex lost it as well.

“Is this what they call Leclerifying?” Lando smirked.

Max felt his cheeks grow warm, dreading the inevitable mention of “Maxsplaining” that would come next. He averted his eyes from the screen as Video Charles began pacing around the studio, interjecting his clearly unwanted opinion as Video Carlos slowly lost his patience.

Lando suddenly paused the video and zoomed in with his fingers. “Bro.” He motioned for the others to see. “Leclerc has an ass.”

“Mate, that’s so gay,” George raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t know me,” Lando retorted. “That’s not very inclusive of you.”

George’s smile suddenly faded. “Hold on, you know I didn’t mean it like that, there’s nothing wrong with—”

“Aaah, I’m joking mate,” Lando smirked.

He let out a yelp as George aimed a kick as his shin.

Max cleared his throat. “Restroom, be right back.”

In the bathroom, he took two deep breaths and willed himself to calm down. He had seen the video himself too, of course…and he had certainly also noticed how Charles’ white pants, expertly cuffed at the ankles, accentuated his backside. He just didn’t expect fucking Lando to point it out so readily. Max didn’t like watching the video in general, though. Something about the way Charles pranced in those goddamned pants around his teammate, peering over his shoulder at Carlos’ pasta, calling mate to him over and over again, almost like he was teasing Carlos on purpose. And of course Carlos was eating it up, even as he feigned irritation. Max could practically picture him steering just a little too close to Charles, brushing him to the side as he made his way over to the judges to explain his dish to the judges like he was competing on fucking MasterChef.

Come to think of it, Lando was the least afraid of the boys to show physical affection, even more so than Carlos. Maybe he was actually into guys. And maybe that would be a good thing for the grid, might make other people more willing to talk about that kind of stuff. Max wasn’t blind, he’d seen some questionable, tense moments among the drivers. But not him. He was just…observant. There just wasn’t any other reason why he couldn’t help but watch Charles and Carlos’ Ferrari challenges as soon as they dropped. Hell, if anything, they were his biggest rivals. Something about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer.

He heard the door open again, and Charles laughing—a progressively rarer sound over the past year. The Ferrari effect. And then the deep, rolling laughs of Carlos blending with Charles’ breathless chuckles.

“Carlos, my dear lad!” Lando exclaimed, delighted. “We’ve been waiting for you to grace us with your presence.”

Carlos snorted. “What am I, some kind of king? That’s how you should be talking to Lord Perceval over here.”

Charles giggled. A sour taste filled Max’s throat at the affectionate nickname. He walked out of the bathroom and positioned himself in front of the two teammates, whose arms looked practically intertwined with each other’s.

Carlos smiled at Max. “Hey, mate.”

Max had to remember to tear his gaze away from Charles’ crinkled eyes, still harboring a ghost of his laugh, and return Carlos’ greeting with a nod. “Hey. Uh, good work on the track today.”

“Thanks,” Carlos beamed. Charles gave Max a circumspect look, and Max gritted his teeth, willing himself not to turn red in front of him. What on Earth was up with them today?

Lando clapped impatiently. “So are we getting food or what?”

The other guys murmured their assent. Max avoided looking at Charles and Carlos, wishing he had just sat this one out entirely after all.

notes: carbonara video creds to the c2 challenge ;) took a tiny bit of creative liberty

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #carlos sainz #f1 fluff #f1 fandom #f1blr #scuderia ferrari #lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #george russell #lando norris #alex albon #red bull racing #red bull f1 #red bull formula 1 #jealousy jealousy

[eldritch-spouse]

What happened with original Icons? You know, Asmodues, Mammoth, Satan, etc. Where are they? Are they dead? Are they ancestors of modern Icons?

(Your aimless questions attract the attention of a humble historian, who, maybe out of pity, or perhaps out of loneliness, sits beside you. His posture is mildly concerning.)

" I can tell from the names alone you're the Christian type, right? You must be. "

(He nods to himself.)

" Do me a huge favor. It grates on my nerves having to listen to these fables getting perpetuated for endless centuries -Even my old man wouldn't shut the fuck up about it, may Dorem be kind to him- Forget everything you heard about the sins and the originals. "

" It's all wrong. All of it. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how bastardized the history of this planet and its annexes has been. By your kind specifically. You erased history! It's miserable! You've been living your little lies for a shameful eternity... I guess I understand why. "

(There's a huff.)

" You couldn't even get their names right... "

" Of course they're dead! Do you even know the rulers of today's Perdition? Dead and burned to a crisp, their ashes bathe the grounds of the Rings modern demons walk upon -Oh, the Fragmentation Wars were something truly spectacular- I wish I had been there myself sometimes. "

" Listen kid. Even we have difficulty putting it all back together, thanks to all this damage being constantly spread. I know demons who are more disconnected with their past than you- At least you know there's Icons out there! I've met some fucking skid marks that think 'Satan' is still bumbling around... "

" I'll tell you right now, three of 'em got nothing to do with the originals. Vorticia, Livius and Kalymir. "

(He tuns to face you better.)

" You know how Wrath is, right? Any nut can just have a go at the King, and if they win, they rule. Kalymir doesn't have a single royal bone to him. And that fucker's got a lot of bones... "

" Vorticia is an impeccable Queen, if you ask me. She's better than whatever the fresh fuck Gluttony could have got stuck with, but we're mostly positive she comes from adjacent families. Close to the court, y'know? "

" And Livius... It's a bit hard to tell with all the massacres in Envy's royal lineage, though you can probably safely bet that he was a cousin of the last prince. An ambitious cousin, eh? They say 'keep your friends close but your enemies closer'- I don't think it worked out that well for him. Keep Livius ten feet away from you at all times, those hands reach far. "

" Don't worry about any of that though. If you ask me, us history enthusiasts are going to have some bright days ahead, now that there's two whole highers settled on the surface. "

(A tail can be heard swatting beneath long, weathered robes.)

" Two of them, you hear me? You and I? We're going to bare witness to a new age! Aren't you excited?! "

" We're talking about THE Goddess Miara and the Plaguemaster -You don't even know who those are, you poor idiot, it's not your fault- And I just know they're in contact. I know it! "

(The demonoid coughs, scratchy voice cracking.)

" Anyway. We should talk more sometime. "

(You get the feeling he wants company really bad.)

#general tce #pinnie's art #demon oc #demon original character #Long live the LORE #I'm not going to do this format too often. Just trying new things #Hudd oc

[stat1cstarz]

Voyeur!Trevor Philips

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦*ੈ✩‧₊˚ VOYEURISM - BREEDING KINK -CUNNILINGUS/ORAL-P IN V

DEC *ੈ✩‧₊˚ After Trevor finding out you had to deal with an ex, he got his revenge, in the best way possible. Maybe for you, but not the ex..

GENRE *ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMUT

+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ever since you’ve moved to Sandy Shores, where you live with your current boyfriend Trevor, you hadn’t had many run ins, fortunately with your Ex. You also told Trevor about this Ex to, he knew they were an asshole, and he knew that if he ever did meet them they’d be dead with in a second. He also took measures to keep you away from them, not wanting you to deal with them.

But you weren’t surprised when Trevor walked into the trailer, your ex shirtless, only in his boxers with a trash bag over his head, the scent of shit and a musky cologne lingering off of them.

“Trevor, what the fuck is going on?”

He quickly answered your question, throwing the man to the ground, ripping off the trash bag. The man was terrified, and vulnerable, his pupils small and eyes buggy.

“Recognize him? Found him outside the trailer. Fucker thought he was smart”

You stared at your lover in disbelief, and confusion. You continued to stare at him, Trevor seemed proud of himself though, arrogance surging through him as he pulled his aviators down to the bone of his nose bridge. He peered through his lashes, thinking of ways to torture him, until a lightbulb appeared in his head.

He went over to the man, who was now sat up, with a roughened rope tied around his wrist, squatting down to his level.

“Hey buddy, since you wanna see er’ naked so bad, how about I give you a treat?”

He went over to the kitchen, grabbing a wooden chair, setting your Ex in it. The entire time, you seemed zoned out, not paying attention to anything. But what he said seemed to get you to snap out of your dream-like state.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You asked him, but him pouncing on you and corralling you to the couch answered your questions. He kept his eyes on your ex, making sure he was still paying attention to the scene that unfolded in front of him.

“Be grateful you’re getting this, catch me on a bad day and you’d be dead with in a second”

Trevor calls out to him, before eagerly sneaking his tongue into your mouth, your tongue fought his as well, forgetting that another male was in the room. You were only focused on Trevor, and what he planned on doing with you. He than slid down south, his face in front of your lower half. You kept eye contact with him the whole time as he pulled your pants down your legs.

He left you in just your underwear, your shirt had been thrown off due to his orders. You were practically bare to the elements, as T took in your heady scent. “God she smells so good, bet you missed this huh?” He chuckled out, watching as your ex grew hard in his boxers. He than hooked his teeth into your panties, sliding them down your limbs, before huffing out a warm breath over you.

You quickly gripped at his hairs, what little of it he had left. He than started to work at your clit, wiggling his tongue over the sensitive pearl. You began to grind against his face, pulling at his hair as he changed his pace every so often. “T, T fuck, don’t stop!” You cried out to your lover.

He continued eating you out, sliding in his thick middle finger, the texture was leathery and rough, but it felt amazing. You already felt your orgasm creeping up your spine, as a symphony of wines and moans left your pink lips. Your noises had Trevor getting erect in a matter of milliseconds, as he slid in two more fingers.

You felt the tight coil rip, your release coating his face. “Good girl, good girl” Trevor praised, picking up the cum on his face and sucking it off his digits. He than picked you up, ridding himself of his boxers and jeans, dropping them to his ankles before placing you in his lap. He had you in a full nelson position, your back coddled against his pecs, and his thick arms around your legs as your legs stuck up in the air.

He allowed your ex to get a good view of the position he had you in, letting him see you in all your glory, knowing it would be the last day he would see them, or anything for that matter.. “Pretty thing huh?” Trevor rasped working his fingers through your sex, massaging every part of your womanhood. He than slowly shoved himself inside you, thrusting inside of your snug hole at an inhuman pace. You moaned and cried out loudly, matching with his low rumbling grunts.

He pressed his lips in your neck, biting and sucking on it, as one hand moved up to your chest, ripping off the bralette that hugged your breasts. Shreds of the lace garment fell on the floor, revealing your swelled chest and pebbled nipples. One hand went to play with your nipples, the same two fingers that had been inside you earlier.

You wetness coated your buds, leaving a shine on them and the nearby plump flesh. Your ex whined the whole time, not getting any sense of relief from the growing erection. He tried to not look, but the scene was to much for him, it was hard to not stare.

His hand that was once on your breasts migrated south, playing with your clit. He quickly released from feeling your tightness, and hearing your whines. Bucket loads of his seed coated your walls, causing it to leak out. He than got you over the edge, pools of your combination leaked out your abused whole.

He slipped out of you, taking two fingers and spreading you open, letting your ex take in the view, as you rested in the after glow. He than took two digits, getting some seed on it and sucking on it. He than got up, placing you on the couch before going to your ex, dragging him outside. All you heard was the TV playing, rock music, and blood curdling screams.

You’re sure no one slept that night, especially you guys.

But for other reasons..

#i love big men #i need a big boy #gta v trevor #gta 5 #gta 5 fanfiction #gta v fanfiction #trevor philips #trevor phillips x reader

[denaliwrites]

Say You'll Remember Me

Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summary: You thought you were free of Alec Hardy, but it seemed Alec had other ideas.

Soundtrack: Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Criminal Activity. Mentions of past assault. Mentions of drugs and their use. Allusions to sex. Brief depiction of assault.

The last thing -- well, person -- you expected to see when you walked into Hightown's pharmacy come Monday morning was DI Alec Hardy. Yet, there he stood, leaned against a wall, reading a paper he no doubt bought from the Village Store, looking casual as could be.

There was no doubt in your mind that he was waiting for you -- his looking up when you walked in and his immediate surge into motion only proved the theory. You needed past him, but with him coming at you the only thing you could think to do was flee.

As you turned and went right back out the door, you heard him call your name, but you didn't dare stop.

He was a persistent fucker, though, and he followed you all the way to your cottage.

"Go away, Alec," you called over your shoulder as you fought with your keys.

"I just need to talk to you," he said, in that stupid fucking accent that made you melt. "Please. I'll be quick."

"No. No, no, no! I won't -- I can't do this again."

You finally slotted your key into the lock and rushed into your home. The door all but slammed behind you, and you quickly locked it back up before Alec could even consider forcing his way inside.

He tried rapping lightly on the window, calling your name gently -- sadly, you dared to think. But you ignored him, stepping away and wiping at your eyes.

It was an hour before the cottage fell fully silent, and another hour before you dared look outside.

You were grateful to see he'd gone.

You knew he wouldn't drop it -- whatever it was, whatever had brought him to you. You felt like you were walking on eggshells wherever you went -- in your own home, even -- waiting for the moment he confronted you again.

It happened the next day -- and, honestly, it was your fault. You'd allowed yourself to get into a position where you could be cornered. Trapped.

The way he approached you was careful. You supposed you hadn't done much to convince him it was unnecessary -- the way you were side-eyeing him was not unlike a frightened animal.

"Leave me alone, Alec," you begged him, looking around for an escape route. The only one was blocked, by him.

"I can't do that, darlin'," he told you sadly, his hands held out placatingly. "I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, you said that before. I still -- I can't talk to you."

"You can. I ken ye don't want to, and I ken it'll be hard, but I really need ye to, darlin'. Please."

You shook your head, wiping tears from your eyes. "You don't understand. I can't."

"Help me understand," he pleaded gently, taking a step toward you.

You stepped back, bumping against a shelf of snacks and almost knocking it over.

"I can help you," he tried, and you could hear in his voice how desperate he was. "Let me take ye back to Broadchurch with me."

"I -- I'm not going anywhere with you," you whimpered. "Please just leave me alone."

You tried to shove past him, but he caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you from running. "Darlin', please. I need ye to cooperate with me."

"No -- no! Get off me!"

He realized quickly that your protests were drawing attention, but he still didn't let you go. "We can go quietly," he whispered in your ear, "or I can arrest ye."

"For what?" you asked, though your struggling had already ceased.

"Pervertin' the course of justice."

You whimpered, going limp in his arms. "F-fine," you said, choking back a sob. "But -- but, please, let's go to my cottage. I want to be -- it's comfortable there..."

He nodded, his arm snaking along your waist until it was no longer holding you. Delicately, you stepped through the shop until you exited, closely followed by Alec. He followed you all the way to your cottage, he followed you inside, and he followed you as you entered the kitchen and set about making tea for him and yourself.

"You've done well here," he commented as he looked around while you were busy. "It suits you."

"Why are you here, Alec?"

"Y'ken, I could just want to see ye."

"You do not just want to see me," you said, looking up to meet his eyes for a moment. "So why did you track me all the way to Liverpool? Not to mention all the places I lived before that you would've had to check."

"We think the man who attacked you is back."

You nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You clumsily set it back on the counter, hands suddenly unsteady and unable to keep a solid grip on it.

"We found a woman matching your profile -- dead. We're not sure it he thought she was you or if he just has a type... but we're almost certain it's him."

You swallowed thickly, sinking to the floor with a pitiful moan.

"I'm sorry," Alec said softly, coming to hover near you, his hand squeezing your shoulder. "I ken I said I wouldn't look for ye, I said a lot of things that I have to go back on now."

"Why?"

"Because at the time, I thought that when you left town, that'd be the end of things. He didn't follow you, and there were no more attacks. I had no reason to think I'd ever see ye again -- that I'd need to see ye again."

You leaned against your cabinets and pulled your knees up to your chest. Alec's hand stayed comfortingly on your shoulder even as you tried to shrug him off.

"Why would this require me to come back?"

"You saw him."

You dropped your head onto your knees with a broken sob. "I don't want to be your fucking star witness!" you wailed.

"I ken," he soothed, his hand rubbing your shoulder. "I ken. I don't want ye to be involved either -- but we need ye, darlin'."

You shook your head. "I won't. I can't."

"Why not, darlin'?"

You shook your head. "No -- I can't -- Alec, I can't."

"Then I've no choice but to arrest ye, darlin'."

Another terrified moan escaped you. "Please -- don't take me back -- I can't go back --"

He looked regretful as he pulled you up and circled your wrists with a pair of cuffs.

The drive to Broadchurch was a long one.

Nearly five hours long, to be exact.

You spent the majority of the time crying or staring out the window. Alec was kind enough to have stocked up on your favorite snacks and drinks before trapping you in the car. He was also kind enough to give you full control of the radio -- at first, you'd opted for silence. But eventually, you got to a point where you couldn't stand it anymore, and you turned it on and found a pop station. Just to fill the silence.

"D'ye need a restroom?" he asked every so often, to which you always replied with a no.

And so it went, for five hours.

You were ready to sleep for a million years by the time he pulled up to the Broadchurch police station. He escorted you in and sat you in one of the chairs in the lobby before giving you strict instructions not to move while he went and fetched his partner.

Of course, you never had been one to listen to him.

The moment he was out of sight, you made a run for the exit, dashed down the steps leading into the town, and fled into the night. You could hear him calling for you, thought that you could even hear the pounding of feet some distance behind you, but you didn't dare stop.

At least, not until you reached his house. Well, your house. Sort of. It had been, at one time. But now it was his. You knew it was his, were kind of counting on it. You figured that he'd figure that his house would be the last place you'd run off to.

You also figured that he'd probably have spare cuff keys somewhere in there.

It was a little surprising to find a cop's back door unlocked, but you were willing to accept it as coincidence.

What was almost certainly not coincidence, however, was finding Alec Hardy himself standing in the entry room, holding up a key to your cuffs.

"I have a car," he said.

Okay, that was on you.

"Alec, please," you begged, already moving back towards the door.

"Please don't make me add breakin' an' enterin' onto your charges, darlin'."

"The door was unlocked."

"Ye weren't invited in."

"Invite me in, then."

"No."

You huffed in frustration, turning towards the door. You could still flee, if you really wanted, but where would you go? Anywhere you could think of, he'd just find you eventually.

"If you undo the cuffs, I'll go willingly."

"Promise?" he asked as he stepped nearer.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

He shook his head and released you.

Instantly, you shoved him off and made a mad dash for the door.

You may not have ever lied to him before, but there was always a first time for everything. Though, you realized sadly, now he definitely would never trust you again. You came to a halt, burying your face in your hands as you sank to the ground with a sob.

Alec joined you after a moment, crouching next to you. As ever, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"I'm gonna pretend ye didn't do that," he said softly.

"Thanks," you whimpered.

"Darlin', I know you're scared," he sighed, "but ye gotta do this."

"I don't," you insisted, shrugging his hand off. "You could just let me go back to Hightown, let me go back to pretending nothing ever happened."

"And how was that goin' for ye?" he asked pointedly.

You bit your lip, looking away.

"How were all those pills goin' for ye? All that stress? The depression? You can't tell me you've been okay all this time."

No, you hadn't been okay. You'd been living a half-life, one foot in the real world and one in a nightmare. No matter what you did -- be it yoga or heroin, nothing ever really helped.

"Please help us put the sick fuck away," Alec begged quietly, trying to look into your eyes. "Maybe then you'll be able to rest. Maybe then you'll start to be okay."

You looked up, meeting his gaze, his soft and earnest and yours terrified and full of tears. "Alec, I can't."

"Ye keep sayin' that, but ye've yet to give me a reason."

"It's... complicated."

"Darlin', a woman is dead 'cause she looked like you. It seems pretty simple to me."

"I know it does," you said, and you couldn't mask the anger in your voice even if you wanted to. "Of course it's simple to you. You're not the one who had to go through the hell that I did, you're not the one whose life was threatened --"

"What?"

Fuck.

"Did he threaten ye?" Alec asked, his voice suddenly... concerningly cold.

"Y-yes," you whimpered, looking away from him. "H-he said he'd kill me, if... if I involved the police."

"That's why ye never pressed charges," he sighed with realization. "Why ye ran... why ye keep runnin'."

"I'm trying, anyway."

"Ye gotta know I'll protect you, right?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I know you'll try. But you can't be with me all the time."

"Then someone else will be."

"I don't want to spend every waking moment under surveillance, Alec! I just -- I want everything to go back to normal. I was trying so hard to live my life the way I was before. I was so close and now I've been dragged back into this fucking mess because some random woman I don't know is dead."

"Darlin'," Alec sighed, and then his hand was on you, tilting your head so that you were facing him. "Could ye really live with yourself if another person died and you could've stopped it?"

You desperately wanted to say yes.

"... No," you said instead.

"So help me."

You desperately wanted to say no.

"... Fine," you said instead.

Any charges Alec had against you were apparently dropped after that, though you weren't fully convinced there were any to begin with, which left you wondering if you could go to the police and have him charged with kidnapping and false imprisonment.

Not that you would, but the idea amused you.

Once Alec was sure you weren't going to run off, he allowed you free reign of Broadchurch. He provided you a phone, a key to his place, and some tenners so that you could feed yourself and buy anything else you needed.

All your instincts still told you to run, but you were mostly able to quell them. Alec helped, both with empty threats and actual reassurances. But ultimately, he'd had a point. You weren't going to let someone else die just because you were afraid.

You'd been there a few nights when Alec came home from work and made a beeline for you, looking... hectic.

"I think we've got a lead."

You perked up, but then tilted your head in confusion. "Why do you look so riled up?" you asked.

"I --" He took a deep breath, making a concerted effort to look calmer on your behalf. "I just... needed to tell ye. And make sure you're okay."

"Thanks?" you said with a nervous chuckle. "I'm fine. Just... enjoying my dinner."

He glanced down at your meal -- just some basic fish and chips -- and smiled. "Like old times, eh?"

You blushed and forced a shrug. "I guess."

"I missed this," he sighed, approaching you and coming to sit on the sofa beside you. His shoulder bumped yours gently as he moved to snatch a chip from your takeout tray.

"Hey!" you whined, swatting him.

He laughed even as he popped the chip into his mouth. You couldn't help but giggle in return.

"You owe me," you told him.

"Will a kiss do?" he asked.

You froze. "Alec, I -- I'm not that woman anymore," you said with a sigh, looking away. "That woman... she's been gone a long time."

"I know," he replied, his voice just as cheerful as before. "Maybe I wanna get to ken the new you."

You blinked and looked up at him. "With a kiss?"

"Well, I've never kissed the new you."

You rolled your eyes, but buried your hands in his lapels and pulled him into a kiss all the same. A deep and passionate one. One that did an excellent job, if you did say so yourself, of conveying how much you missed this, too.

When you pulled back, both of you were breathless. You were thinking how deep the shit you were in was, but by the look on his face, you guessed Alec was thinking more about how this new you was just as great a kisser as the old you.

Typical, you thought.

Even so, your dinner was left forgotten on the coffee table as Alec eventually pulled you into his arms and led you back to the bedroom.

Despite Alec's lead, he wasn't that much closer to solving the case.

You were getting rather antsy.

What Alec failed to realize was that you had made a life for yourself in Hightown. Yes, in some respects, it was little more than a half-life. But it was still something -- more than you'd had in Broadchurch in the last few months you'd been able to stand living there, at the very least.

You couldn't stand how much you missed it.

Which is what inspired you to do something that was probably exceptionally stupid.

You remembered where your dealer had operated back when you still lived in Broadchurch -- which was something you hadn't been able to say prior to the attack. After, however, you just wanted to forget anything had ever happened, and, well, illicit drugs were pretty great for that.

You scaled the fence and made your way into the dilapidated building, keeping a watchful eye out for cops.

There weren't any, so you continued deeper into the building, until you reached the stairs leading down to the boiler room.

On one hand, you had the presence of mind to think that maybe you were about to walk into a horror movie -- but on the other, you needed something to take the edge off.

You were about to climb down when suddenly you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.

And you screamed.

"Jesus, ye've got some lungs," Alec groused beside you.

"You!" you yelped, yanking out of his grip. "The hell are you doing here, Alec?"

"I could ask ye the same thing!" he barked back, motioning around. "This place is -- are ye asking to be murdered?"

"No, I'm asking for heroin," you replied, deadpan.

"I'm gonna pretend ye didn't say that," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "C'mon, we're leavin'."

"I'm not going anywhere, actually."

"I swear to God," he hissed, grabbing your wrist again and pulling you towards him.

"Hey," you whimpered as pain shot down your arm. "You're hurting me. Alec --"

You were cut off by two beams of light entering your field of vision. Desperately, you tried pulling out of Alec's grasp, but his hand was locked around you tightly.

"Alec -- Alec, let me go -- Alec --"

He stood there as the lights got closer, and soon there were two cops standing in front of you.

They asked questions, none of which you could answer without incriminating yourself; unfortunately, not answering them incriminated you too.

You were under arrest -- that much was indisputable.

The cops turned their attention to Alec, who definitely talked like a cop and carried himself like a cop, and yet, in the end, had forgotten his badge.

It was very lucky for you specifically that these two were rookie beat cops who had no idea who their DI was, because it meant that Alec got arrested too.

The two of you were cuffed together and escorted to the cops' car, and you smiled the whole way.

"Do you know how embarrassing it is for you," Alec's partner was saying as Alec was let out of the cell, "that I had to come bust you out?"

Alec was grumbling under his breath.

Ellie's attention turned to you.

"And who's this?" she asked.

Alec turned to look at you, too. "She's..." Ellie gave him a prompting look and he sighed. "She's the witness."

"Oh... and why's she in the cell?"

"She was trying to buy drugs!"

You piped up, "I never confirmed that to the arresting officer."

"What else could you have possibly been doin' there?"

"We haven't talked in years, Alec, maybe I took up exploring abandoned buildings."

"Which is also illegal."

"Wait, is it?" you asked, sitting up and blinking rapidly.

"Yes," he groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Should I let her out?" Ellie asked, throwing you a curious look.

"No," he responded. "Let her stay the night. Maybe then she'll learn to behave."

"I'm not a dog," you growled.

"Yeah, well, maybe you'll convince me when ye stop actin' like a feral mutt."

With that, he and Ellie walked away, leaving you alone.

You awoke in the night to the sound of your cell being opened. Blinking blearily, you yawned and stretched. Moving to a stand, you whimpered tiredly, "I knew you'd come back --"

Whoever was approaching you quickly in the dark was definitely not Alec. You knew that even before he kicked you into the wall.

You yelped as your head hit the bricks, but you didn't have enough time to really process as a hand grabbed you by the throat and threw you to the ground.

"Stop --" you wheezed, but the hand returning to your throat cut off anything else you were about to say.

Powerful legs straddled you, keeping you pinned and unable to kick him off.

You weren't weak, by any means, but you weren't sure you had enough strength in your arms to fight him off. Still, you had to try. Hands scrabbled at his hands and arms, nails digging in and trying to do as much damage as you could -- certainly trying to get him to lose his grip.

Darkness was closing in on the edges of your vision, prompting you to fight harder, more desperately, anything to get you out from under the weight of your would-be murderer.

Finally -- something worked. You weren't sure if it was your nails digging into his elbows or maybe the punch you landed to what felt like his ear -- ultimately, it didn't matter. You had an opening and you took it, clawing your way out from under him and making a mad dash out of the cell.

Later, you realized you should've closed the door and taken the key, but at the time you just wanted to get far, far away.

And that's what you did, legs not stopping until you reached Alec's house. Then, the adrenaline drained and you collapsed. Your sobs woke him up.

"So he's one of ours," Ellie concluded, after Alec made you tell her what had happened.

Alec nodded, then turned to you. "If ye saw him, would ye be able to tell us?"

You shrugged, rubbing at your still tender throat. "Maybe. It's been a few years, and I didn't see him last night when he attacked me in the cell, so I didn't get a refresher or anything."

"That's still better than nothing," Alec said reassuringly.

Ellie nodded in agreement. "I'll arrange something at the office," she said, getting up and saying her goodbyes quickly.

Once she was gone, Alec came to sit down beside you and pulled you close to him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left ye alone."

"You couldn't have known."

"No, but ye shouldn't have been alone anyway."

You shrugged, but didn't pull away from his embrace.

It was later that day that you and Alec were called to the office, under the pretense of filling out release forms for you.

Alec's hand never left your waist as he ushered you through and to Ellie's desk, where you were given a seat and a cup of cold water.

"Take your time," Ellie said, her eyes darting around. "We need you to be sure."

You nodded and began mindlessly filling out whatever forms they put in front of you -- you noticed it wasn't even a release form. The first one was to claim an impounded car. And then Ellie slipped you an animal license form.

You filled them out, anyway, as it was something to do while you were also trying to pinpoint a murderer.

You'd been there for a few hours when you finally saw him.

It had been a few years, but it was surprising just how sharp the image of your attacker became when confronted with his presence. You were struck with panic, but you forced yourself to write on your property inheritance claim form so that Ellie could see -- big guy, 3 oclock, brown hair green eyes, about 6ft tall.

She took the form and gave you a curt nod. "That'll be all we need from you," she said with a smile. "Stay out of trouble now."

Alec wandered over then, saw the note you'd written, and immediately moved to confront the officer.

Arresting him was a bit of an affair, but in the end he relented and, in the interrogation room, confessed.

Alec had been right.

You felt a freedom you hadn't before, once your attacker was thrown behind bars.

You stood outside the police station, leaning against a rail, wind whipping your hair about wildly, the sun setting painting the sky and ocean in brilliant pinks and oranges. It was the most serene you'd felt in years.

"Will you stay?" Alec's voice sounded from behind you. A moment later, he joined you, leaning against the railing beside you.

"No," you answered, looking out over the ocean.

"I'd like you to," he said sadly. "I've missed you... so much. And now that your attacker is in jail --"

"My life isn't here anymore, Alec. It hasn't been for years."

"It could be, though, couldn't it?"

"No," you answered sadly, but honestly. "It can't. I don't want my life to be here."

He turned to face you, and you did the same with a sigh.

"Please, darlin'."

You cupped his face with a hand, then guided him down so that you could kiss him gently. You could tell as you pulled away that he didn't want to part from you.

"I'll always love you," you told him. "And I'll always be grateful that we put that bastard away. But I... I've moved on. You need to too."

He didn't answer you -- well, not verbally. The desperate kiss he pulled you into was answer enough, though.

I don't want to move on.

"Goodbye, Alec."

With that, you walked away, and you didn't look back.

#alec hardy x reader #alec hardy x you #alec hardy fanfic #alec hardy #david tennant #broadchurch #broadchurch fanfic

[blueicequeen19]

Patience is Virtue Pt. 2

Warnings: stalker Rafe, finger action in a car

Part Three

It’s been two days since she told me she had a child and fled. I stood on her doorstep for another ten minutes before I followed her to see for myself.

I watched from a far as she went to Scooter’s widows house and picked up an infant. Not just a kid. An infant. In a fucking carrier and everything.

For a moment I’m defeated. This changed things. But as I watch her load up her child and drive back to her apartment, I realize there’s nothing stopping me. I’m in. She could have ten kids and severe debt and buck teeth. I didn’t care.

If anything I had more to gain now.

A family.

Which brought up the sudden thought of the child’s father. Where was he and how do I keep him out of the picture? I’m suddenly thrown into a fantasy of her swollen and pregnant with my child. I’ve heard pregnant pussy is the best pussy and now my dick is painfully hard. Blue balls were a pain in the ass, even worse when you’re driving.

I can’t stay away now. So like a creep, I wait until it’s well after midnight and the lights are all off before I climb up the sketchy fire escape. There’s nothing more than a sheer curtain over her bedroom window and I can see right in. There’s a crib up against one wall next to her dresser and a mattress and box spring against the other wall.

The urge to steal them both away and give them everything is strong. She deserved better. Suddenly there’s a wail like nothing I’ve ever heard before and she bolts upright in bed then throws the blanket off as she goes to the crib. Her ass is covered in nothing but a tiny pair of panties and an oversized shirt hangs off her shoulders. I palm my cock through my jeans, willing the fucker to go down for a second.

I watch as she tugs the shirt down and shoves her nipple into the banshees mouth. I’m mesmerized by the act. And jealous. Now I want those nipples in my mouth and to know what she tastes like.

I pull my cock out, the pain too much to bare. She tugs her shirt off like she’s hot, leaving herself in nothing but her panties and I nut in less than five strokes. Like a horny fucking teenager who just got to second base. But fuck did it feel good. So good I almost groaned out loud, giving myself away.

I can’t look away even after wiping off my hand, although most of my cum went between the metal grates, and tucking myself away. My dick was still hard and I was still enchanted by her. It was beyond beautiful seeing her as a mother.

I had to have her. I didn’t care how or why or when but I would. I needed to find out if she was on any birth control. Where the kids father was. Then get her pregnant with my spawn as soon as possible. And keep her that way. I wanted a fucking football team of her babies.

She’d be mine. One way or another.

The next day I get cornered by Kelce over my sudden disappearance all the time. He’s worse than a high school kid over drama. I wish the fucker had a hobby or a life outside of intruding on mine and bumming coke off me. The only reason I keep him around is because of his family ties and he’s handy in a fight. Other than that, I’m not sure where his loyalties lie.

"Dude, you've been distant for weeks. Where the fuck have you been? You never respond in the group chat. You’re never home." Kelce presses, following me down the stairs and into the kitchen. Maybe I could trip him and get away with it.

"Some of us work, Kelce." I snap. Breakfast is laid out on the counter but I don't eat anything. I needed to save my stomach for the diner when I see her but Kelce dives right in like the mooch he is. His plate is piled high as he sits down and I know this is my only chance to leave without being followed. Food and pussy is all he cares about.

"You don't work. It's a chick isn't it? You getting some pussy, Rafe?" Just hearing Kelce talk about her sets my teeth on edge. I'd rather knock his teeth down his throat.

"No, it’s your mom. Now fuck off." Kelce glares at me with his mouth full of food but I ignore him as I turn around and walk out. I was going to have to start driving a different car. One less noticeable because Kelce will no doubt try to find out whatever I'm up to. Ward and Rose are in the Bahamas again so I take her car. No one gives a shit about a plain sedan.

Thirty minutes later, I show up at the diner. The door chimes as I walk in and her head jerks up from across the room to look at me. I smile and she blushes. I take that as a good sign so I sit in my usual spot and wait for her while I glance over the menu that I already have memorized.

I smell her perfume before I see her although my body is so drawn to hers that I can feel her approach. She steps behind the counter and turns in a ticket before grabbing a mug and filling it up, adding my cream and sugar for me before sitting it in front of me with a nervous smile.

"Hi."

"Hi, doll." I sip my awful coffee as her cheeks pink up. Now that she's directly in front of me, I can see the exhaustion written on her face. Her lids are heavy but she maintains a smile. Another customer walks in and I mentally roll my eyes as she scurries off to help them.

When she comes back around to me, I’m fighting the urge to bend her over the fucking counter and bury my cock in her until she cries.

“What’s wrong, Rafe?” She asks, eyes wide and frantic. I must look like an animal right now.

“You need to take a break. Right now.” My voice is barely more than a growl but honestly I don’t care if I’m scaring her. She cocks her head for a moment before locking eyes with another waitress and giving her a nod.

“I’ll meet you out back?” She says, backing away slowly and disappearing through the staff door. I pull the car around back and park so I’m facing away from the building. She gets in, looking incredibly frightened but I don’t have it in me to care as I grasp the back of her neck and smash our lips together.

If she’s startled, she doesnt act like it because her hands immediately tangle in my hair and she’s up on her knees in the seat to get to me. My tongue dominates her mouth just as much as hers does mine. Teeth clank together. Lips are bitten. I’m all but consuming her through her mouth when she finally pulls her lips away, gasping.

Her eyes are watering and those perfect lips quiver like she’s about to cry.

“You came.” She whimpers, tears spilling and stealing the air from my lungs. I’d kill for her.

“Why wouldn’t I? You think a baby would keep me away?” Her eyes narrow for a second at my slip up. She never said it was a baby. Just that she had a kid.

“I saw the base in your car. I just assumed.” I add, seeing her visibly relax so I tuck some stray hairs behind her ear and cup her face.

“Rafe, this is so new. So sudden. I can’t seem to fight it though. I feel so drawn to you. Like you see me when no one else does.” I kiss her again, ready to fuck her for the first time in this car.

“I only have ten more minutes.” She whispers against my lips. I take that as my green light to plunge my hand between her parted thighs and up her skirt. Her panties are soaked. I barely brush over her clit and she’s moaning loudly, bucking her hips.

“When was the last time you were touched?” I growl, tugging her panties to the side and cupping her pussy in my palm.

“When I got pregnant.” She pants, grinding herself against my hand. I growl low and long. I needed to claim her. Mark her. Own her. Impregnate her. But we didn’t have time right now.

“I’m going to fuck you eventually. Long and slow then fast and hard. I’ll make sure you scream and cry my name every single time you cum and you’ll soak my cock and my sheets. No one else gets to touch you or look at you the way I do. You’re mine.” I plunge two fingers inside her and she cums instantly, fisting my shirt in her tiny hands while her face pinches up in ecstasy. It’s my new favorite thing.

“That’s it. My dirty girl. Letting me finger your tight little pussy on break.” She’s not finished her first climax before she’s thrown into another, her cries growing more high pitched until my ears ring.

I love it.

She gushes all over my fingers. Her cheeks are flushed, his lips wet and parted, her eyes squeezed shut in bliss. All from me.

When her eyes finally open, all dazed and droopy, I finally withdraw my fingers and don’t break eye contact as I suck them clean in my mouth. She shudders.

“Can w-we meet again after my shift? I feel like we should talk.” She murmurs, sitting back in her seat as she fights to catch her breath.

“Absolutely. But just so you know, I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted me too. There was no way I could let her go now that I’d tasted her.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #drew starkey #rafecameron #dark!rafe cameron #tw stalker #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe cameron smut

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Show Off

Sons of Anarchy Masterlist

Contains: Fluff, smut (voyeurism, exhibitionismf, fingering, praise kink, Dom Jax, P in V)

2.9K words

When an arrogant prospect takes it one step too far, Jax feels the need to teach him a lesson.

Jax watched you at the bar, smiling and glad handing all the visiting sons. He was grateful that you were there playing the diplomat while he got down to business. He didn't miss the way you would glance back at him every now, it had taken a while but you had developed a kind of silent communication that he found invaluable.

He had learned that you were very good at picking who was going to last and a look in your direction after you chatted with a prospect was always very enlightening.

Right now, he was in the middle of getting an update from the President of a visiting charter, the man going on and on about how hard it was to find good recruits, "I fucking tell you, that prospect over there, I give him another month before he's tossed out on his ass."

Jax huffed, "why isn't he gone already?"

The look he got told Jax all he needed to know, "he's a legacy, his dad was one of the first men picked to run a chapter who wasn't first nine."

Jax scoffed, "well, if he steps wrong here, we'll get rid of him."

"Can I buy you a drink?"

You raised your water and turned to the man behind you, this must have been the prospect you had heard all the others complaining about, "I have one thank you, can I help you with anything?"

He smiled, "yeah, let me buy you a drink."

You sighed, "I have one, I'm also married."

He licked his lips, "hey, I'm up for anything and it's not like I see your man around."

You pointed behind you, "because my man is Jax Teller and he's busy. Now, if you need companionship, I suggest you find Mr Padilla and see if he can find a lady to spend the night with."

He leaned in closer, resting his arm on the bar, "hey, I don't discriminate. I'm sure he has fun too."

You blinked, "yes, we have fun together because we are in a loyal and loving marriage. Now I would like you to turn around and walk the other way, I have nothing else nice to say to you after you've said such nasty things about the man I love and my marriage."

Jax was paying more and more attention to you as he watched you stiffen, "is that the fucker you're talking about?"

The noise from the visiting President's mouth gave Jax all the information he needed, "yep, is that your old lady?"

Jax took a sip of his beer, waiting for you to wave him over, "yep. Don't worry she can handle herself."

There was a huff from his friend, "let's hope so because this guy needs to learn his lesson."

Trying to get him to go away was fast becoming a fool's errand, "I know you ladies think he's pretty and all but guys like that are shit in bed. I bet he just does what he wants. Me? I listen."

You took a deep breath and stood up, "no you don't and since you can't listen, I'm going to go over and sit in my husband's lap so you fuck off." You waved to the prospect behind the bar, "three fingers of that fancy scotch, please, on the rocks."

You were handed the drink and without even looking at the man who had spent the last five minutes hitting on you, you walked over to Jax, pressed your lips to his, handed him the drink then sat in his lap with a smile.

"Sorry my love, I couldn't stand to be parted from you a moment longer so I thought I would come over. I brought your favourite to say sorry in case I was interrupting."

Jax chuckled and pecked your cheek while wrapping his arms around your body, "nah darlin, I was about to come over and grab you anyway. Are you having fun?"

You shook your head, "not really, there's a new prospect that needs a good punch in the mouth. He seems to think you're no good in bed and he thinks he can do better."

The smirk on Jax's face was downright diabolical as he called the man over, "are you into my old lady prospect?"

To your surprise, he smiled, "who wouldn't be? I mean, she's the hottest piece of ass here."

The look on your face grabbed Happy's attention and he walked over, "everything alright, boss?"

Jax sucked on his tongue, "everything's fine Hap. The prospect here was just telling me how nice my wife's ass is, ain't that nice of him?"

Happy's face was unreadable, "I don't think it's appropriate to be talking about a lady like that, especially not the wife of the leader of this Club."

Things went from bad to worse when the prospect smiled wider, "hey you know who my father is. I grew up in a Clubhouse, all these bitches are up for grabs unless they're knocked up."

Jax huffed and turned to the other man, "you were right, he is a problem."

You thought for a moment, sure Jax could beat the stuffing out of him but that wouldn't really teach him a lesson, "my love?"

Jax turned his attention to you, his arm tightening around you, "yes darlin?"

You did your best to hold back a smile, "I was very offended that he thinks you're a poor lover, I'm actually quite mad about it."

Jax pressed his lips to your neck, "are you now?" He turned to the prospect who still clearly thought he wasn't making a huge mistake, "what are you going to do about making my lady mad?"

He shrugged, "I think that's your problem, the women I know who get fucked right are never mad."

Jax clenched his jaw, something dark coming to the surface, "well then that settles that, how about you come in and watch me fuck her brains out and if I'm as bad as you say I am, you can tell the whole fucking Club."

This man's audacity seemed to have no end because he smiled, "sure, if you need some pointers."

Jax stood up with a smile, taking your hand in his, "are you alright with this darlin, you say the word and we can go home and enjoy the night all the ourselves."

You knew Jax wasn't going to let him touch you, this was about Jax showing off. The prospect was going to be lucky if Jax didn't make him face the wall and put his nose in a corner, "I'm fine with it, he clearly won't listen to either of us so maybe he's so dumb that he needs to see it with his own eyes. But maybe we should stay under the covers, I don't want to make the poor boy feel inadequate, that can really harm a man's self esteem."

Jax smiled, "you should thank her for being so kind to you."

The prospect wasn't interested, "are we doing this or are we just going to talk about it?"

You could tell by the tone in Jax's voice how pissed he was, "you can back out at any time man, don't stay because you think you have too. Hell, I'll make stay until your patch vote no matter what."

He huffed, "I ain't going anywhere."

Jax took your hand and you walked into the dorm with the prospect in tow. Jax locked the door and directed you to the middle of the room before turning to the prospect, "you can sit in that chair. And don't even think about putting your hand anywhere near your dick, that wasn't part of the agreement."

He did as he was told, the gravity of the situation still not sinking in as Jax stood in front of you and leaned in to kiss you. You soon forgot about the interloper as Jax kissed you senseless. You started on your top button while Jax shrugged off his kutte and placed it over the back of another chair, coming back as your shirt fell open.

He slid his hands under the fabric and placed them on your waist, leaning in to kiss your neck as your head fell to the side to give him more access. His hand moved up to slide the shirt on your shoulder and you reached out to unbutton his blue flannel.

Jax's flannel came off and he pulled back so you could pull his SONS T-shirt over his head, Jax smiling as your eyes racked over his bare chest. The chair shifted and Jax looked over, the prospect suddenly realising that Jax was far larger and stronger than he was. Jax turned his head with a smirk, "you can go man, we ain't keeping you here if you're feeling insecure."

The man huffed, "I'm fine thanks."

Jax turned back to you, pressing you to his chest as he reached down and removed your jeans, you following suit after you palmed his growing bulge. Jax didn't have your shyness and he shoved down his boxers and his hard cock sprung free.

The smile on your face was automatic, as was your hand reaching out to wrap around the shaft. Jax grunted, his eyes filling with lust as you started walking backwards and kissed him. Jax ran his hand from your ribs to your back, undoing your bra before pulling back while you wrapped your arm around your body to hide your nakedness from the stranger on the other side of the room.

Jax spun you around so your back was facing the prospect, your crow on full display, then threw back the covers but not the top sheet and with a smile and a gentlemanly gesture, he was holding it open for you to climb inside. You lay down on your side, your back facing the other man while Jax got into bed next to you.

The prospect couldn't see your skin under the sheet but it was clear from the movement under it that Jax was running his hand up your leg. There was more shifting as he lifted your leg over his hip, then his hand emerged from the sheet to throw your panties away and you placed your hand on his ribs, the muscles rippling under your skin as he breathed.

His hand went back under the sheet and to your centre as he ran two long fingers up and down your slit, "you're very wet for me darlin, you want to tell me why?"

You smiled and brushed his lips with yours, "I'm always like that when I'm with you."

Jax chuckled, it was full of ego, "oh, I know. There's no way he's getting you like that."

You kissed him again, "not in a million years, it's all you my love."

Jax's thumb found your clit as he slid two fingers inside you while you buried your head in his neck. He didn't waste any time working you up, his calloused fingertips brushing your G-spot as you gasped. He looked at you, then flicked his eyes to the other man, a plan forming in his brain as he pushed you closer to the edge.

He pressed his lips to yours and you rocked your hips into his hand, his thumb picking up speed as the prospect shifted again. Jax pulled away, just far enough that he could speak to you without anyone else hearing, "you still want to keep going? I can feel how close you are."

You smiled, "he can't see anything."

Jax smiled back and kissed you hard, swallowing your moans as you came around his fingers. Jax didn't stop, removing his lips from yours in time for you to let out a desperate but soft cry as you fell over the edge again, "good girl." Jax didn't even look at the man as he spoke, "you ever have a woman make that sound for you prospect?"

There was no response, the situation finally taking hold. Jax turned his attention back to you, "give me one more then you can have my cock." His fingers slowing for a few minutes to get you over the almost painful overstimulation, his lips soft on yours as his beard scratched your skin.

When your twitching faded, his lips moved to your neck and his fingers sped up again. You moved your hand from his ribs to wrap around his shaft and jacked slowly as he wrung another orgasm out of you. You had a bit more trouble keeping you quiet this time, but his expression told you he didn't mind.

He pulled his fingers from you and sucked them into his mouth, moaning around them as your taste coated his tongue. He pulled his fingers away and his hand found your face as he kissed you, tasting yourself on his lips while he rolled on top of you.

He pulled back and looked into your eyes, his chest pressed to yours to hide your body from the other man, "you good darlin?"

You nodded, "I'm great, are you?"

Jax smiled softly, "I'm great, you want me to get rid of him?"

You looked over at him, the prospect turning away when your eyes landed on his face, "it's up to you. If you think he's learned his lesson, then you're more than welcome to throw his out on his ass."

Jax looked over at the man, it was all predator and dominance, "I don't think he has but he can leave if he wants. He knows where the door is."

"I'll stay, it ain't like it's hard to fingerfuck a woman." You couldn't tell what was pissing Jax off more, the disrespect to you and your marriage or the disrespect to him as a lover and as his President but something about the expression on his face told you it was the former.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and Jax settled between your legs, rubbing his cock up and down your slit before sliding inside you with a kiss on your lips. The shuddering moan you let out was matched by the groan that came from Jax, there was a growl to it that gave you the urge to sink your teeth into his shoulder.

You buried your head in his neck as his hips started to rock. He started slow, grinding into you while you ran your hands up and down his back. Your breath caught in your throat as he angled his hips to brush your G-spot while one hand shimmied between you to rub your clit.

"Jax please."

He smiled and kissed a path from your neck, across your face and to your lips, kissing you softly juxtaposed to how his hips were now ramming into you. You pulled Jax even tighter to you as the end neared, stuck between waiting to continue kissing him and wanting to refresh the ever present love bite on his shoulder. Jax made the decision for you as a particularly punishing thrust had you sinking your teeth into his flesh to muffle your moan as you rocketed over the edge.

"That's it, my good girl, you feel so good." Your whimper only served to spur Jax on as he turned to face the prospect, "have you learned your lesson?"

There was no response and despite the fuzziness of pleasure clouding your brain, you couldn't help but turn your head to see what he was doing. There was something on his face, it was hard to pin point if it was from being proven wrong or the fact that he thought Jax was going to kill him when this was over so he didn't share this experience with anyone.

Jax had triumph on his face at his vanquished foe. The prospect was no longer cocky but deflated, "look at the fucking wall. You don't even deserve to be in the same room as my woman, let alone get to look at her."

Jax turned back to you as you rocked your hips, matching Jax's pace as his grunts became more urgent. He bit down on your lower lip as he came, moaning your name like a dying man.

He breathed against your lips, smiling softly as he shifted his hips to pull out of you. He didn't roll away, deciding to stay holding you for a little longer, "I love you darlin."

You pecked him, smiling against his lips as he rubbed your nose with his, "I love you too."

Jax turned to the prospect, his voice a mask of calm rage, "get the fuck out."

He stayed frozen to the spot, "did you not hear me? Get the fuck out, I don't want you here anymore." He only started to move when Jax started to pull away from you, you imagine the thought of Jax beating the life out of him naked was enough to get him moving.

The door slam had you jumping and Jax pressed soft kissing into your skin to soothe you, he rolled off you and took you with him, pulling you into his arms, "did you have fun?"

You nodded, "yep, I forgot he was there most of the time."

Jax chuckled, "good."

You pressed your lips to his chest, "are you alright? You still seem revved up."

Jax chuckled, "I'm just excited for round two without someone looking on."

You smiled, "well in that case, I better go get us some snacks."

Fin

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