#But I still wished to share this with you all <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[whatifitis]

♡ I watched it begin again - LN 4 ♡

Summary: You've moved on and found happiness... when Lando reappears and tells you something you truly never expected to hear, but something you had also wished for for so long.

Author's Note: this is the much awaited part 2 to 'i wish you would've stay'. i wanna say a quick thank you to those who read part 1 and shared your thoughts on it, it really made me feel so special 😭 this part would not have been written without yall <3

WC: 2415

CW: fluff, maybe a very little amount of angst? pettiness, if you squint there's a sort of thrupple, or whatever the 4 count of that word is, hinting, overuse of song references

“Okay, I think it’s done.”

“Yay! I can finally see this masterpiece you’ve created.” you smiled. 

“Eh, masterpiece is a bit of a reach. But I definitely tried my hardest to capture your beautiful soul.”

“Ohhh, shush you. Flattering me so much.”

“It’s so you don’t hate me after you see this monstrosity.”

“Okay, enough yapping. Show me.” 

You watched as he took a deep breath and turned the sketchbook towards you.

“Oh. My. God.” you try to stifle your laugh. 

“Why are you laughing?” Gabe chuckled. 

“I’m not laughing. It’s beautiful. Oh my- Where were you when it was time for senior photos?”

“No. Fuck off. That’s rude.” you watched as Gabe tossed a pillow at you and tried to refrain from laughing as hard as you are. 

You were laughing so hard it was getting hard to breathe and tears were rolling down your face. Being with Gabe always felt so high school in a way. There was no pressure or drama within this place. It was just love. 

You and Gabe have been dating for a little over a year and it’s been the greatest time of your life. When the two of you met, you really weren’t looking for anything. You were focused on work and getting your life in line when he happened. 

Since he’s come into your life, it’s like everythings brighter. And while that may sound cliche, it’s true. He makes everything feel miniscule, like as long as he’s there at the end of the day, everything will be okay. 

He was something new as well. For so long, you had spent your time around boys and their expensive cars like range rovers and Aston Martins, but Gabe is just Gabe. He’s a real person who enjoys the same things that you do and he truly loves you for you. And he loves spending time with you. On your first date, he wasn’t ready for the date to be over, so he asked you to walk around Kohl’s with him. And still, to this day, he asks if you want to walk around Kohl’s together, just for a few more moments with you. 

He was the king of your heart.   

“Oh shit, I gotta get going. I have that meeting with Matt tomorrow about working on that album.” Gabe said as he stood up from the couch and stretched, “Can we meet for lunch? I don’t think I can wait all day to see you again.” pulling you closer to him, softly gripping your waist. 

“Definitely, I might be a bit late cause I need to talk to Marjorie about letting me in on that case.” 

“Amazing.” he said as he pressed his lips to yours, feeling your soft lips on his and pouring himself into you. 

The two of you pull apart and you walk him to the door of your apartment. 

“See you tomorrow, my love.” 

“Call me when you get home, please.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Gabe jokes, “At home, I’ve got to greet the most demanding and most precious person in my life. She deserves all my attention.”

“Olive is a cat and she is far from precious.”

“You’re just jealous she prefers lying on me rather than you.”

“We’re girls! There’s a girl code and she’s not sticking to it.”

“I’ll see if I can talk some sense into her then. For the love of my life.” Gabe says, pecking your lips one final time before walking off. 

“Save some time for me.” you called out. 

“All my time is yours, my darling.” 

He turns the corner and once he’s out of sight, you step back into your apartment and close the door. You turn your back to press against the door and you couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. Even after all this time, he still makes your heart skip. 

You started to get ready for bed and had just settled into your bedsheets when your phone started playing your ringtone for Gabe, ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ by Rick Astley. You don’t remember exactly how it became one of your songs, but it somehow made its way there. You’d even joked with him how if the two of you ever broke up, you hoped that Rick Rolling would become a thing again so that he would be tormented with the thought of you. 

You picked up the phone to hear some shuffling on the other line. “Hello?” you call out. 

“Hey, sorry. I was just taking off my jacket. I made it home.”

“Amazing. How’s home?” 

“It’s okay. Would be better if you were here with me.”

“You just spent all day with me. Are you not sick of me?” you half-joked. 

“I could never be sick of you. You’re my favorite thing the universe gifted us on earth.”

“Stop. You’re gonna make me cry.”

“I’m sorry, my love. I don’t like making you cry, unless it’s from laughter. Ya know, you’re really pretty when you laugh.”

“Only when I laugh?” you poke. 

“Nuh uh. You’re always pretty. So pretty that it almost kills me. But I really like it when you laugh. Especially when I’m the one making you laugh.”

“I like it when you make me laugh too.” you are practically melting at this man's words. He always has you wrapped around his finger and you think he knows. But little do you know, that’s how he feels about you. 

You turn to look at the clock by your bedside and sigh. Even after having him all day, somehow you just want him more. 

“I gotta go to sleep now, my angel. If I sleep now, I can get at least 7 hours of sleep.” you huff. 

“You should really sleep earlier so you can actually sleep well. We both know you’re not sleeping 7 hours with your sleeping habits.”

“Yeahhhh. Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.” 

“I’ll be waiting, love.” 

The silence sounds after the beep. Was this what true love felt like? Is this how it feels to be loved? How long has it been since someone made you feel like this? For a while, you thought the plane was going down. But someway, somehow, Gabe turned it right around. He would literally break his back to make you break a smile. For the first time ever, you were falling in love with someone who was falling in love with you. 

The next morning, after some strenuous phone calls and exhausting meetings, you excitedly made your way to the restaurant you were meeting Gabe at. You were running a bit early so you decided to take the scenic route to the restaurant, knowing Gabe wouldn’t be there for another 20 minutes. 

You were enjoying the afternoon sun and the fresh air that came with it when you heard something from behind, “Y/n?” 

Why does this person sound familiar? He sounds like… like someone but you can’t quite place your finger on it. 

“Y/n, is that you?” 

When you turn to see who it is, you’re met with them. Those eyes, the eyes you used to dream of. But now they look different, they look so dull and tired. His frame looks lighter and his smile looks torn. 

“Lando?”

“Wow, you look, I mean you look beautiful. You haven’t changed a bit since the last time I saw you.” he says, giving you a soft, shy smile. 

“Yeah. It’s been quite some time.” “Sorry. Uh, how have you been?” 

“I’ve been good. Really good, actually. How about you? How’s Hannah?”

“I’ve been okay and ehm, Hannah and I broke up last year.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry to hear. But I’m sure you’ll find someone. There’s plenty of fish in the sea, as they say.”

“Yeah. I’ve actually been thinking about you recently. Like, a lot.” he softly huffs. 

“Oh.”

“I’ve been meaning to reach out but I wasn’t sure how. I’m actually glad I ran into you now.”

“Lando, I think you-”

“No, please. Let me explain myself, please.”

You stood there for a beat, not knowing that to say. You couldn’t get a single word out. Why? It was just Lando. 

He watches your face, trying to study it and read what you’re thinking, but he can’t, “I have a lot to get off my chest. I won’t take long. Please.”

“Okay.”

With a deep inhale, Lando begins “I fucked up. Big time. I never should have, essentially, ghosted you. All you ever did was love me and care for me. But I just went off and dated another girl cause I didn’t realize it at the time. Y/n, if we’re being honest, I’m still in love with you. And it took a long time for me to realize. Everything is nothing without you. I’m nothing without you. I miss you so much and I regret ever letting you go. Can we start fresh, please? I won’t let you go this time. I’ll hold you closer than I ever did before.”

“I can’t. You hurt me a lot. It took me so long to realize I was going to be okay without you. It took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t my fault for you leaving. That I am good enough and capable of being loved. I’m happy now. I found someone that I love and who loves me. Like, truly loves me. He made me realize that nothing was wrong with me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. But, does he really make you happy? Happier than I ever made you?” there are tears brimming his eyes. 

“Yeah, he does. I don’t get it, Lando. I was happy for you when you met Hannah, why can’t you be happy for me?” 

“Because I know you still feel something for me. And I truly believe that the universe brought us here today for a reason. Our story isn’t over, y/n.”

“It is over. You can say we’ll be together someday, but things have changed. We’re not the same people we were before and I found my person.”

“So why can’t I stop feeling this way?” he says, a tear slipping down his face. “Because you’re human.” you say, reaching your hand to cup the side of his face, but you don’t. You stop yourself before your fingertips can feel his skin beneath yours because it isn’t fair to him. 

“Do you regret me?” he asks through a wavering voice. 

“No, I don’t regret you. You were one of the most beautiful chapters of my life and you taught me a lot. You know, I used to look for you in a sea of people, knowing you weren’t there. It’s kinda stupid cause we never really existed but-” “We did exist. Just not in the way we should’ve. The way we could’ve if I wasn’t a massive fuck up.”

“You’re not a fuck up. Listen, there was happiness because of you and there was happiness after you. That’s just the way life goes. So there will be happiness after this.’’

“I don’t want there to be an after you. I’m trying my best. I pray that you’ll come back to me one day. And if you do, I’ll give up my hopes and dreams in F1 cause I’ll have my biggest dream of all. You.”

“You can’t change things by loving someone harder. I used to wish you would’ve stayed. But this isn’t a fairytale where you’re my knight in shining armor. I found someone who actually treats me well. And the cost of trying isn’t greater than the reward of having me, to him. He actually loves me and wants to be with me. I used to be so naive and I would get so lost in your eyes, I didn’t realize that being in love wasn’t fighting to have the upper hand.” 

He’s near sobbing when he tells you, “I want to believe I haven’t lost you.”

“I’ll always be here for you. But I can’t be with you. It’s too late, Lando. My heart doesn’t soften to your name anymore.”

“Do you think there’s even a slight possibility that you could fall in love with me again?”

You look at him. This was the boy you once loved. The one you would’ve done anything for, even after everything he’d done. You used to wait for him to love you again. But now all you see is the boy who broke your heart and left you bereft and reeling. 

“No. I hope you find love, Lando. I really do. But it won’t be me. Not anymore.”

With that, you turn your back to him and walk away. It might’ve been harsh, but you couldn’t stand there any longer. The result wouldn't be different if you’d stayed longer and comforted him. You’re happy with Gabe and he has never given you a reason to doubt him. You’d been hurt enough by Lando. But every little moment led you right to where you should be. 

When you finally arrived at the restaurant, Gabe was already there. When he sees you, it’s like he saw you for the first time. There was a sparkle in his eyes and the toothiest grin spread across his face. 

He stands to greet you with a kiss that could heal every wound that might have reopened today. He pulls a chair out for you and takes his seat right at your side. 

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi. I’m sorry I’m late. It’s a long story and I can tell you all about it later. Right now I just want it to be us. Let the world fade away for a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan then. I already ordered your Coke with a lime. It should be on its way.” Gabe says as he plants a thousand soft kisses on your hand. He’s been doing it a lot lately, now that you think about it. 

“You’ve been kissing my hand a lot recently. Why?” you ask out of curiosity. 

“Because whenever I kiss your hand, you hold my face.” 

Gabe is a daydream and you’re the one he’s walking to. You think he’s the one thing you got right. 

You hear your phone ping on the table. You quickly open it to mute it for your lunch date but the text on the screen catches your eye. 

Oscah: So should Lily and I meet you guys at your place or ours? 😉 

Those who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @f1fantasys @jxnellat @hoeforsirius @nina-or-anna-or-nora @sturmatt @hurtblossom

[blushsturns]

perv!matt x innocent!reader ♡

part 4 ❤︎ wet dreams

hcs - 1 - 2 - 3

❤︎ description: matt wakes up from a wet dream and starts to text you about it, but you invite him over instead. (in matt’s pov)

❤︎ warnings: pure smut, explicit content, f! receiving oral

❤︎ w/c: 4834

❤︎ matt’s texts are in blue!

matt woke up in agonizing pain. it hurt, badly. if he didn’t get some kind of release sometime soon, he would probably lose it. he was going insane.

his first ever wet dream about you. in between your thighs; kissing you, licking you, tasting you. in his dreams, you tasted fucking phenomenal. you gripped on his hair tightly and fucked his face as he devoured your sweet cunt.

in his dream, he was in absolute heaven, but it was just a dream.

so, when matt woke up with the biggest hard on he’s had in his entire life and a huge wet patch against the front of his boxers, he wasn’t sure what to do. he groaned in pain, throwing his head back against the pillow as he moved his hand to push his hardened bulge down repeatedly to try and stop the intense sensation.

thank god he slept alone because this was truly embarrassing. he thought he was done with this shit. he’s had wet dreams before when he was younger, but that was self explanatory. he had no excuse for this one.

well, maybe he does. you were on his mind every second of every day. ever since the moment you two shared in the closet at nick’s party, it was all he could think about. your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin and leaving behind the most beautiful bruise he wished would’ve stayed longer. he had that reminder left on his skin of you making him feel fucking amazing and when it faded, he kept it imprinted in his brain.

he let out a soft groan out of frustration. it was no use. nothing was helping. he thought to himself maybe now that they’ve had some interactions, he would actually have the courage to be vocal about what he wanted and needed.

matt moved his hand over to grab his phone off the nightstand. maybe he should just stop being so scared and actually say what he wanted for once.

truth is, he’s wanted you for so long. ever since he laid his eyes on you, he’s been hooked. infatuated. obsessed. the obsession with you happened very quickly and has only progressed rapidly over the years. he was one of your best friends, but he always knew it was more than that. at least for him, anyway. he looked out for you, was there for you if you needed him. it was like he wanted you to come to him for comfort and support so he can show you how a man should treat you. he hated seeing you hurt and just wanted to protect you from it all.

he was so obsessed with you to the point that you were all he could think about. it was driving him fucking insane. he wanted you and every part of you.

it became so unbearably hard because he knew he couldn’t have you. you never seemed to feel the same way because you were always so independent and carefree and even when you had dates with other boys, he still wanted you. it devastated him to see you get your heart broken, wishing he could pick up the pieces and put your mended heart back together.

he always assumed you’d never feel the same way , not until recently. ever since you noticed your panties in his back pocket the night you all watched a movie together, he felt as if maybe you were finally noticing him and who he truly was, rather than just the awkwardness in his personality. maybe you were starting to actually notice him. he did tell you how much he’s always wanted you. he was vocal about that for once.

matt let out a groan, the uncomfortable hardness not going away any time soon as he opened up his phone and immediately tapped on your name.

i had a dream about you last night and i can’t stop thinking about it.

matt’s heart quickened as he sent the message. within seconds, bubbles started to appear on the screen.

oh you did? what was it about?

it’s kind of embarassing..

come over and tell me about it. i’m making breakfast, you can have some while you rant.

give me 10.

matt immediately got out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, trying to push his hard on away so it wasn’t completely evident when he went over to your house. he knew just telling you about it and standing right in front of you would only make his cock even more excited, so he decided to just say fuck it and try to hurry as fast as he can. he needed to see you.

after brushing his teeth and trying his best to look decent, he scurried his way out of his house. thank god you only lived next door and not across town. nick and chris were still asleep so at least he didn’t have to explain to his brothers where he was going so early in the morning with a fucking hard on in his pants.

he knocked only twice before coming face to face with you. he couldn’t help but scan you up and down, taking in your beautiful appearance. your hair was up in a messy bun with strands of hair falling onto the sides of your face, your oversized t-shirt covered your entire upper body but showed off your amazing toned legs. all you had on was a pair of lacy panties underneath. usually you didn’t want anyone seeing you like this, but it was matt. he’d stare at you like this no matter what you looked like.

“um, hey.” he said kind of awkwardly, his hand immediately falling into his tousled brown locks. “thanks for letting me stop by.” he could still feel the lingering hard on that was throbbing in his pants and it wasn’t helping that he was now face to face with the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

he tried desperately not to stare at your body as you stood there, a smile widening on your face. the wafting aroma of pancakes lingered in the air and filled his nostrils. he knew you loved to cook, no matter what kind of food it was. you always liked to try different recipes and have your loved ones try them. it was like one of your many love languages. “hi matt! of course! as soon as i knew you were stopping by, i put more on the pan.”

you bounced on your heels, your smile only widening as you shut the door behind him once he steps inside. fuck, were you so fucking addictive. your personality in itself is so damn contagious and he wanted to be around you all the damn time.

“oh, thank you. aren’t you a sweetheart?” hell yeah you were.

his eyes scan over the room before averting his eyes to your ass as you turn around and motion for him to follow you into the kitchen. you looked fucking amazing even in just a big t-shirt. he ended up envisioning you wearing only his shirt and lounging around the house and that thought was not helping his still evident hard on that you obviously noticed the second you opened the door for him. he got lost in his thoughts and snapping out of them immediately once he heard your voice.

“come on! they’re almost done.” you called out to him as you stood at the stove, your hips swaying as you flip the pancake in the pan.

matt gulped slowly, suddenly feeling nervous as he walks into the kitchen to join you and leans against the kitchen island as he watches you intently. even when you’re in your element, you looked effortlessly beautiful. how come everything you did made him fall for you ten times harder?

“they smell amazing. you didn’t have to make me any.”

you turned around to raise your eyebrow at him with a stern look on your face. “nope. you’re having as many as you want. i wanted to.” you finished off the rest of the pancake mix, letting it sit in the pan to form before turning to look back over at him. he looked nervous and on edge standing there; like he so badly wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to.

your eyes glared down to the hardened bulge that outlined the center of his sweatpants. how was he hard already? you fought the urge to bite down on your bottom lip, your cheeks already growing warm as you immediately averted your eyes back to his.

he caught on to your subtle staring, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as well. “thanks. i’ll have some, then.”

you came back to your senses, flashing him a wide grin before turning your attention back to the pancakes that were now done and cooling off. as you waited for them to cool off, you moved over next to him and hopped up onto the chair at the kitchen island. “so, tell me about this dream you had of me.” you wiggled your eyebrows up at him playfully, a light giggle emitting from your lips.

his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink as he immediately averted his eyes down at the marbled surface before back up at you. “well, it wasn’t just an ordinary dream. the dream had me waking up like, really fucking hard actually.” his cheeks flushed even more, his eyes moving back down and not being able to hold eye contact with you as he says this. “in the dream, it felt so real though. like fuck, i wanted it to be real.” he let out a nervous laugh, his knee beginning to bounce which was one of his nervous habits.

it’s not that he was nervous of you or being around you. he fucking loved being around you and tried to find any excuse to do so. it’s the idea of you knowing he’s capable of having these thoughts about you even if he’s already voiced it before. having dreams about you though? he’s never had one like it before.

this piqued your interest as you kept your eyes focused on him. “what happened in it, matt? you can tell me.” your voice was soft and reassuring. you wanted to make sure he knew that you weren’t judging him. you were also intrigued since the moment he texted you. you just had to know what the dream was about, especially since it involved you.

“well, it’s kind of something i’ve been wantin’ to do for awhile and maybe that’s why i dreamt of it but it got me really goin’-“ he stopped his words, feeling absolutely flustered, his cheeks reddening by the second. his eyes moved over to yours once again, your eyes now locked together in an intense gaze. you weren’t able to read him. all you could tell was that he was completely flustered and when you looked down at the center of his sweatpants, you could visibly see he was harder than he was before he stepped foot into your house.

“matt..” you spoke immediately, moving off your chair to move over next to him, your hand now resting against his shoulder, your eyes still locked together. the poor thing was a nervous wreck. you thought it was fucking adorable. he was so flustered, unable to speak. “it’s okay. instead of explaining to me what happened, why don’t you show me? actions speak louder than words don’t they?” you flashed him a sly smirk, your fingertips running down his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt before slowly moving your hand up to his hair and running your fingers through his tousled locks and gave his hair a slight tug. “it’s okay, sweetheart. show me.”

something switched in matt after you spoke. his eyes began to darken with lust and desire as he stared up at you from the chair he was sitting on. you could swear you heard matt whine from you tugging on his hair. you stood there next to him, your fingers wrapped up in his locks as you kept your gaze focused on him.

without any hesitation, matt immediately moved his hands over to the back of thighs and down to your ass to lift you up against him with your legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he walks you over to the counter and sets you down onto it. a soft, surprised gasp emits from your lips at his sudden movements. you loved seeing matt like this. he was usually so cautious and embarrassed easily, but when he lost control which wasn’t often, it was incredibly hot and so attractive.

fuck. the boy really does want you, doesn’t he? you spent countless hours throughout the last couple weeks wondering his true feelings and if you reciprocated those feelings for him. when matt does things to surprise you like this, it turns you on and leaves you wanting more. you didn’t realize matt was capable of being this way and you were slowly becoming obsessed with seeing him lose control.

your eyes lock together in an intense gaze, your hands resting onto his shoulders now. “show me, matt. please.” you pleaded, your own eyes filling with desire. your legs wrapped around his waist tighter to pull him closer to you, your hand moving up to run through his brunette locks. you were becoming addicted to the feeling of his hair between your fingers. adrenaline ran throughout your body from your head to your toes. “you don’t have to hold back.” you whispered out, giving his hair another slight tug which drawled out a soft whine from matt’s lips. okay yeah, you fucking loved this.

the words that fell from your lips were all it took for matt to finally break away any shyness and flustered feelings he had before. seeing you like this; pleading him not to hold back, to have him show you what his dream was and giving him the permission to make that dream a reality. he needed this. he needed you. he immediately placed his hands onto your bare thighs, your oversized shirt already rising up from where you sat on the counter. he moved one hand up your bare thigh underneath your shirt against your side, your fingertips drumming against the hem of your lacy panties “oh fuck.” he breathed out, already seeming breathless just by the touch of the lace covering the most intimate part of you. the part he needed to touch, kiss, taste in this very moment.

your body immediately jolted forward at his touch against your skin and teasingly pulling on your panties. his other hand moved up to place his index and middle finger underneath your chin to allow your eyes to lock together in an intense gaze. his blue eyes turned darker than usual. you could tell how much he needed you in this moment. as if he was an animal that was malnourished and needed to be fed. he needed to taste you. now.

you lifted your hips up slightly to allow him to remove your panties down your legs. you watched his every move as his fingers tugged your panties down, his eyes not being able to take his eyes off your pretty lace panties that were once covered by your pretty pussy that he needed so much. you were already soaking wet and it was evident with a small amount of your arousal coating them before allowing them to fall down onto the kitchen floor. this very moment felt so intimate, so fucking right and your cheeks were fucking burning from how much you were blushing.

you never thought this would ever happen, but you weren’t complaining. he spread both of your legs immediately with both of his palms, the pad of his thumbs caressing the inside of your thighs in smooth, slow circles. your breath hitched as you stared down at him, watching his every move. his hardened cock was pressing against his tightened sweatpants, begging to be free, but he didn’t seem phased by it one bit. all he could focus on was that he finally had you in the palm of his hand and he was savoring every fucking second of it.

“god, your skin is so smooth. feeling s’good against my fingertips.” he whispered this in a sultry tone, so unlike his usual voice. it was so fucking hot you felt like you might combust right then and there. you knew he could feel the heat radiating from your core as his hand inched up higher, closer to your sweet cunt.

he moved his hand to your bare hip, your shirt riding up everytime his hand moved. you melted against his touch. your breathing getting hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to say, if you even could speak. all you could do was watch him lose and take control and have you at his mercy. his fingers caressed your inner thighs underneath your shirt in a teasing manner and it made you want to scream, needing him to touch you where you wanted it the most.

you had to be patient though. he’s wanted you for so long, you knew he wouldn’t just walk out without showing you exactly what he dreamt about.

“spread your legs f’me. need you. now.” he spoke this is a dominant, rough tone through gritted teeth. it was almost as if he was about to combust from how much he’s needed you for so damn long and he was finally getting to have a taste of you.

you did as you were told, spreading your legs wider against the countertop. fuck, this was so dirty and so hot and your head was spinning, your mind clouded with dirty thoughts and consumed of nothing but matt and how he’s wanted this for so long. maybe you have, too.

your shirt rose up completely now and you took the initiative to place your shirt directly at your hips and hoped it would stay there and not get in the way. your breath felt like it was caught in your throat at this point as you stared at him. his eyes were hungry, needy, and full built up lust and want. “been wantin’ this for so long. so fuckin’ long, sweet girl.” he used his fingers to cup underneath your chin in a rough manner , your eyes staying locked together firmly.

“a little taste won’t hurt.” you breathed out, already shaking with anticipation and adrenaline that rushed through you. your spread legs and bent your knees as you sat on the edge of the counter as he bent down onto his knees and suddenly he was face to face with your sweet, pretty pussy.

“holy shit.” he breathed out, a soft groan already emitting from his lips at the sight of your glistening arousal. your core was throbbing already, desperate and needing matt any way he was willing to give you. “fuck. you truly are beautiful, every single fuckin’ inch of you.” he caressed your inner thighs with his hands, your skin feeling like butter against his fingertips.

your cheeks were bright red at this point as he continued to stare at your sweet pussy, practically drooling at the sight. he had wanted this for so long and so many times he had imagined what you looked like when he’d take your underwear just to put them around his cock as he pumped it in his hand, cumming all over the lacy fabric with your name falling from his lips. now he gets to have you, inches close to tasting you.

his finger ran across your glistening folds, admiring your pretty pussy and how wet you were for him. your cheeks were bright red as he continued to stare longingly at you, not being able to quite take his eyes off you as his finger slowly rubbed your swollen nub.

his hot and hot heavy breath lingered against your center, feeling yourself growing more soaked by the second. he looked up at you from the position he was in on his knees in front of you, his eyes full of lust and need. “such a beautiful fuckin’ pussy, sweetheart. god, look at you.”

before you could even reply to his words, he immediately leaned forward and dove his head in between your thighs, his tongue running up and down against your glistening folds causing your body to jolt forward against the feeling of his tongue finally against you. your hand insrantly found his hair again and ran your fingers throughout his hair, a soft moan leaving your lips. fuck, his tongue felt so good against you.

he dreamt of this for so long. the taste of your arousal coated his tongue as he began to lap his tongue against your glistening folds, swirling his tongue around in several directions as he hummed against you to send vibrations down your core. you were throbbing immensely and the feeling of his tongue finally against you was so damn rewarding. you couldn’t believe this was happening and you didn’t want it to stop.

his tongue plunges into your core repeatedly, lapping up your sweet juices as they coat his tongue. your fingers wrap around his hair tighter and pull onto his head to dive his head more into your center. you wrap your legs around his face which causes a groan to erupt from his throat and send vibrations down to your core. you throw your head back against the kitchen cabinet. you refuse to close your eyes, wanting to savor this moment as long as possible.

watching him eat you out was the hottest fucking thing. you didn’t want it to end. fire coursed throughout your veins, sending shockwaves down to your body at the feeling his tongue rolling along your glistening folds before he began to suck onto your swollen clit and taking it between his lips. he sucked onto it hungrily, lapping his tongue against it each and every time he’d let it go. he devoured your pussy hungrily, not being able to stop. “o-oh fuck. matt. that’s feels.. so nice.” you moan out your words, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging hard.

he looked up at you as he continued to devour you, running his tongue up and down your glistening wet folds, moaning against your center as he opens up his eyes to look up at you. he’s mesmerized by how your face looks when you throw your head back in absolute ecstasy. fuck, he’s been dreaming about this for so long and now he’s finally getting a taste of you.

he pulled away just for a second to breathe, licking over his lips hungrily like he was already having withdrawals. you pulled one hand away from his hair to place against your own chest, massaging your breast through the fabric of your shirt. you looked down at him, your arousal glistening against his lips. the loss of his tongue made you whine, but you locked your eyes with him, already looking fucked out. “fuck, sweet girl. you taste so divine. got me addicted to this pussy.” he spoke in a sultry tone, licking over his own lips once more.

“can’t stop.” was all he said breathlessly, flashing you a sly smirk before diving back in between your thighs. his hands moved to your inner thighs to hold you still as he ran his tongue up and down your glistening cunt. he waited for so long to be able to taste you and he couldn’t believe this was actually fucking happening.

he sucked onto your swollen clit, lapping his tongue against it repeatedly as your legs begin to shake from the pleasure filling inside of you. “f-fuck!” you shouted out, gripping onto his hair to keep his head in place so he wouldn’t move away from your center, not that he’d want to. he could tell you were getting closer to your orgasm. he didn’t stop, continuing to roll his tongue along your glistening pussy, moaning against you with the taste of you driving him absolutely fucking insane.

you were so close to your orgasm. your body began to shake and tremble with fire coursing throughout your veins. you didn’t want this to end, but you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. you continued to grip onto his hair to hold his face in place as you watched him devour your pussy like a starved man, addicted to your taste. addicted to you. “oh, fuck matt! i’m s-s-so close!” you stuttered your words as you moaned loudly, profanities falling from your lips as your heart raced rapidly in your chest.

god, he looked so fucking good between your legs. you wished you had your phone to take a picture for later, you’d already keep it engraved in your brain anyway. he gripped harder on your thighs to hold you still as you tried to rock your hips up into him, in an attempt to fuck his face as he sucked onto your clit feverishly. he pulled away just for a moment to look back up at you, his lips curving into a devious smirk as he licked over his lips hungrily. “cum for me, sweet girl. been needin’ to taste you for so long. cum on my tongue and let me taste you. wanna see you when you cum f’me. keep your eyes open, alright ma? don’t be shy now.”

he immediately went back to licking your swollen bud repeatedly, sucking onto it and moaning against you, your eyes locked together. you made sure to keep your eyes opened the entire time just like he demanded. hearing his dirty words and watching him fucking devour you is what caused you to get sent over the edge. you didn’t realize how badly you needed this until you saw him between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

suddenly, your body began to shake as your orgasm rushed through you, your fingers tugging onto his head harshly as you pushed your hips into his face, your orgasm sending shockwaves throughout your entire body as you cum on his tongue, moaning out in ecstasy, his name falling from your lips. he watched you the entire time, your eyes locking together in an intense gaze, moans falling from your lips. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. he couldn’t fucking believe this was happening after all this time.

he lapped up your juices as you allowed your orgasm to rush through you, your arousal coating his tongue as he moaned against your pussy. your heart beat rapidly in your chest, sweat glistening against your forehead. you look incredibly fucked out and hazed, your fingers lazily running through his messy locks. even in your post orgasm haze, he believed you were the most beautiful girl in the world. fucking magnificent. he used a tongue to lick your now overly sensitive clit to get one more taste before pulling away from your thighs. he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth that was covered in your juices, a now shy smile appearing onto his lips as he stared up at you.

he got back onto his feet to stand before you, your legs now closed and you pull your shirt back down as you try to find the strength in them to jump off the counter, but your legs felt like jello. your eyes moved from his lips and back up into his eyes. you didn’t know what this meant moving forward, but you couldn’t fucking believe this happened.

“a fuckin dream come true. literally. thank you, sweet girl.” his own breathing was labored as he licked over his lips and stared at you with his cheeks reddened tremendously. he’s back to his usual shy self. “been wantin’ that for awhile.”

your chest heaved up and down, your head resting against the kitchen cabinet. your eyes move down to the evident hardened bulge in his pants, a wet spot forming against the fabric. he was incredibly turned on just from tasting you. you didn’t know if he wanted you to return the favor or not, but the sight of him completely hard for you was such a turn on.

he caught your eyes, moving his eyes down to his own hardened cock before back up into your eyes. he had come here because of this same problem, but this time he wouldn’t be leaving in complete agony. at least he finally got to taste you. he bent down to grab your damp lacy panties that were still on the ground and immediately places them in his pocket, flashing you a small smirk.

“enjoy your breakfast, sweetheart. i sure as hell enjoyed mine.”

taglist-

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @giveheavensomehell @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @forgottxen @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @sturniololuv08 @xclusivedesires

a/n- thank you to @sturnshood for helping me with the idea! i wouldn’t of been able to write this without you. thank you thank you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me i love you!

thank you to everyone who’s read this au and has supported me! i want to continue it for as long as i can, so if you have any ideas, questions for me or just wanna talk in general please don’t hesitate to send a message in my inbox!

i love you guys! :)

-nessa ღ

[mads-hemmo]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - Jschlatt

Part 4

Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

CW: the first part of this is straight up 18+, mdni. I will put that part in italic if you decide to skip it.

Schlatt watches in awe as you ride him. He lets out a hoarse moan every time you clench around him. “Does that feel good, baby boy? You like when I squeeze your cock? Such a good boy letting me ride you like this,” you praise him.

His big hands are glued to your hips as he assists you in bouncing on his dick. “Fuck you feel so good, Toots. You’re so tight,” he groans.

You lean down to kiss his opened mouth. You continue to ride him until you’re moaning his name. “Jay. Jay. Schlatt!” You yell except for the voice is not from you riding him but you laying beside him in reality.

Schlatt’s eyes shoot open. He looks to see what is going on in front of him. His arms have made their way around your waist and his erect bulge is pressed against your ass. He quickly gets off of you. “Oh my god, (Y/N). I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, covering himself up with his blanket.

“It’s fine. You were just holding on to me really tight and you seem to have a bit of a problem you may want to deal with,” you tell, looking at his bottom half.

He quickly gets up. “Yeah. Once again I’m so sorry.” Schlatt rushes to his bathroom, locks the door then takes the coldest shower he possibly can. He can’t believe that not only did he cuddle you in his sleep, he also tried to fuck you. He knew sharing a bed was a very bad idea, but he couldn’t have Ted be the one cuddling you. Speaking of Ted, what the fuck was his deal last night? Why was he actively flirting with you like some girl he met at a bar in LA.

Schlatt quickly gets out of the shower, throwing on whatever clothes he can find. He sees you still on his bed, scrolling on your phone. You look up at him. “They must have been some hottie,” you say.

“Who?” Schlatt asks, confused.

“The person you were dreaming about obviously. You were moaning about in your sleep and your buddy seemed very alive this morning.”

Schlatt’s face turns beet. “Um yeah they were.” He definitely found you very hot. However, having a sex dream about your best friend while they are laying beside you is mortifying.

“Who was it? Who were you dreaming about?”

“It was nobody. I can’t even remember," Schlatt lies. He’d be fucked if you found out who he was really dreaming about.

“Oh c'mon. I’m your best friend. You can tell me what it was,” you plead.

Schlatt looks at you for a minute, thinking of a lie of who he could have been dreaming about. “Fine I’ll tell you. It was Megan Fox.”

“Transformers Megan Fox or modern MGK Megan Fox?”

“Uh Transformers,” Schlatt comes up with. He just tried to think of some hot celebrity and she was the first to cross his mind.

“Good choice. Didn’t think she was really your type,” you tell him.

“That’s why it was so strange. Is Ted still here?”

You shrug. “I would assume so since he never said bye.”

Schlatt nods making his way into the kitchen. He sees Ted sitting at his breakfast bar drinking coffee. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” Ted asks, looking up from his mug.

“Shitty,” Schlatt says.

“Aww, sleeping by the person you’re in love with didn’t go well?” Ted asks, mocking Schlatt.

Schlatt flips him off. “I fucking woke up cuddling them.”

“I’m not seeing the issue here? Did they not want you touching them?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I woke up with a fucking boner,” Schlatt groans, putting his face in his hands.

Ted starts laughing so hard, he almost spits his coffee out. “That’s too good. I’m so glad they ended up wanting to share a bed with you. I wish I could’ve seen their face.”

“Well, glad you think so. They wanted to share a bed with you.”

“With me? Why would they want that? They don’t know me,” Ted asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s hilarious because they thought you were flirting with them. Asked me if you were single,” Schlatt tells him. He is starting to feel so embarrassed for being jealous.

“Why would they-“ Ted stops then realizes. “Ohh that. I did that to piss you off.”

“You did what? You flirted with my best friend to piss me off? Why?” Schlatt felt himself getting angry. Ted used you to just piss him off.

“Because I wanted to see this. I wanted you to get so jealous that you actually admit your feelings just to make me stop. You don’t think they know something’s up?”

“They don’t know anything and they never will because they will never feel the same.”

Ted rolls his eyes. “You won’t know unless you tell them. They are probably waiting for you to make the first move.”

Schlatt sighs. “I don’t know. I just feel like if they wanted me, I would know it.” Schlatt feels so dumb about how much he likes you. He wishes he would know you felt the same, but that wasn’t possible. He would just have to suffer in his self pity and watch you fall in love with someone else.

As Ted and Schlatt talk, they hear you walk into the kitchen. They both look over at you. Schlatt’s heart stops when he sees you are wearing his tie dye hoodie with a pair of shorts. You look like a dream and it’s taking everything in him to not fuck you over the counter. He will blame it on Ted being here and not his anxiety over being around you.

“Are you hungry?” Schlatt asks you, trying to clear his mind.

You shrug. “I could eat. Do you have any breakfast food though?” You ask, making your way to his pantry.

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember when I last went to the store, but you can look,” Schlatt says.

You close the pantry. “I think I’m just going to go to Dunkin on my way home,” you tell him.

“Good choice. The coffee of my people,” Ted says, making you laugh slightly.

“I can order something for you if you want,” Schlatt offers, not wanting you to leave yet.

“Don’t worry about it. I need to go into the salon later today anyways. Thank you though.”

Schlatt just nods. He goes into his room to grab your backpack. He comes back into the kitchen to give it to you.

“Oh thank you. I would’ve forgotten it,” you say. “Here’s your hoodie.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can keep it,” he tells you.

You smile at him. “I’m heading out. Thanks for the sushi and movie night. Nice to meet you, Ted.”

Schlatt follows you out to the door. “Be careful. Text me when you get home safe. Let me know if you need anything,” he tells you.

“Of course. Bye Schlatt.”

“Bye Toots.” Schlatt closes the door.

“You’re already so whipped and you aren’t even with them,” Ted comments.

“Fuck you. When are you going home?”

“Aww you’re trying to get rid of me already?”

“I have a few videos to record. You can stay if you need. I’m just being bitter.”

“Ah it’s okay. I was about to head home anyway. Going to go see my parents before I head back to LA,” Ted says.

After a little while, Ted heads home and Schlatt goes into his office. He hops on Discord and sees a message from Aztro. ‘I’m not sure if Mika told you, but we have a show in New York coming up. You don’t have to come to the show, but we thought we could at least go hang out somewhere.’

‘Of course I want to hang and even go watch the show. Was there something specific you had in mind?’

‘We were thinking about going to a karaoke bar. Also invite (Y/N), we want to meet them.’ Mika adds.

Schlatt thought for a minute. Karaoke sounds nerve wracking, but he knew you would love it. ‘Sounds fun! I’ll let them know.’

‘Yay!’ Aztro replies.

Schlatt records a few sponsored videos. You in his hoodie doesn’t leave his mind. Neither does thinking about karaoke. Schlatt thinks of an idea of how to be honest with you, but he’s not sure if it will work. He ignores his anxieties and texts you about the karaoke bar.

A/N: Ahh part four is finally out!! I have the next two parts planned out so yay! Thanks to being snowed in, I have more time to write which is great. Thank you for your support! Hope you all enjoy!!

[iwoulddieforher]

Rigid | Casey Novak × Alex Cabot

Author's Note: This got super out of hand with the length- I think this is the longest fanfiction I've ever written. Hope you enjoy it, though <3 ~16k+ words

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. I like the idea of Alex being neurodivergent in some way, even if she doesn't know it herself, so some of her self-descriptions will come off that way.

Summary: Alex wants desperately to be able to relax like she sees her colleagues doing, and a night watching a coworker she has her eye on- Casey Novak- might present itself as the opportunity to get what she wants.

Porcelain dolls strung up by small transparent strings were significantly less rigid than Alex Cabot currently felt. How she usually felt, even.

High-class family, posh preparatory school, strategically made connections rather than real relationships were all she grew up knowing. Everything had a meaning, a purpose, a reason for why it was so, and that also applied to every detail of her appearance and demeanor must similarly be intentional. She grew up internalizing that, and thus, as an adult she utterly lacked the ability to let her spine curve into a natural slump, to lay in bed without wondering what it would look like to a non-existent observer, to kiss someone in a way that focused on the intimacy rather than the shifted facade that she displayed in order to appear desirable.

It felt inhuman. She really hated it. The feeling she coped with daily made her skin crawl as if it was begging to be torn off to reveal a real person behind it instead of the ever-complicating mask.

It was especially noticeable to her on days like these, where a high-profile case had just been absolutely devoured by her colleague, Casey Novak, so the squad room was positively thrumming with excitement and a collective sense of triumph. Olivia, the one Alex had made a habit of perching herself by, was currently at the corner store to pick up a bottle of something to share, so the attorney was standing almost aimlessly against the brunette detective's desk. Across the desk was Stabler, in his respective chair, looking up at Casey who had chosen to place herself on the edge of his desk. Munch was in his rolly-chair, with Tutuola leaning over the back of it, Cragen standing stiffly but not uncomfortably near the commotion like a proud father.

"And that absolutely little weasel of a man-" Casey chirps, as much as a voice as low as hers could sound like a chirp, interrupted by a bark of laughter from Stabler, "Sorry, that boot-licking short ass bottom-feeding rodent-"

"Casey!" Stabler admonished, although his eyes were shining with amusement, and the faux blonde woman laughed and swatted at him half-heartedly.

"Yes, okay, I'll mind my manners. The defense counselor, before the trial, told me that because I'm pretty if I want after the duration of court he'll give me some tips on improving- and now I won, and when he was walking out, I managed to shoot him a smile and say 'if you want any tips, just call Novak at the DA's office'- I thought he was going to deck me right there-"

Casey's storytelling is rewarded with a roar of laughter from the men, her face shining with victory and the aftereffects of a battle well fought, and Alex can't help but find her beautiful. Casey Novak was anything but rigid, and Alex wished she was more like that- even if Casey's temper did get her in trouble more frequently than one would wish.

"Okay, well, don't let your victory get you all haughty, I'm still going to kick your ass tonight." Stabler snorts, after the laughter had died down, which sends Casey into a refreshed cascade of giggles.

"You? Kick my ass? Oh, you wish."

"Wait," Alex cuts in, everyone's eyes flickering to her as if they were slightly off guard that she was still following the conversation, "what's this about kicking each other's asses?"

"I'm going to hand Stabler his balls on the softball field tonight-" Casey starts before Stabler swings at her playfully and she gets distracted by shooting him a playful warning look. Alex forgot how much they acted like siblings sometimes, but the way they seemed to bounce off each other and banter so smoothly made them seem like twins. She could very easily imagine them in early teens kicking each other under a dining room table.

"Recently we've all started getting together to play softball together," Stabler interjects, granting Alex a serious response, "after big cases on the weekends we get together with some other cops and some other lawyers at night. Good way to blow off steam if justice isn't served or good way to celebrate if we do."

“It used to be a big thing, there were inter-department tournaments at the DA’s office or whatever, but now us who liked it so much just play for the hell of it, and also against the cops.” Casey nods, finally done with Stabler after managing to flick him in the middle of the forehead with her finger, which he glares at her for.

"And us who don't play softball get drunk while watching 'em." Munch says, leaning back in his swivel, with Tutuola adding a nod from just above him.

Alex bit her tongue, blinking in mild surprise. Back before she had 'died', they had gone to bars together to celebrate such things, and she didn't know any of them had really had any penchant for sports outside of Stabler occasionally mentioning his daughter's soccer or basketball results. She certainly had no clue Casey was apparently formidable enough on a softball field to hold on against a built detective such as Stabler.

"Speaking of drunk, I'm back." Olivia announces, strolling into the precinct once more, finding her way to stand beside Alex while cradling two bottles of some discounted wine, holding one up as evidence.

"Oh I got the worst fucking hangover from that shit-" Fin fires off immediately, who then gets silenced by a snort from Olivia, and the warm atmosphere is immediately resumed, Novak and Stabler beginning to chatter about proper swinging technique and which one of them was doing it wrong while Munch, Benson, and Tutuola start arguing over alcohol. Alex felt rather out of place.

Tone switching over to something light and banter-y was usually a bit difficult for her after grueling caseloads, and today especially she was just done. She didn't want to leave, though, she didn't want to be alone or god forbid find company with other stiff-necked attorneys to chat with hollow words about unnecessary topics, but involving herself in this easy exchange- especially since she wasn't entirely sure if she was invited- was hard.

"Oh, how about you join us, Alex?" Olivia suddenly exits her own argument to turn towards the blonde, her face soft the way it usually was when it came to her. "I know it's not your type of thing, probably, but it would be nice to have you there."

Her voice is earnest, and Alex had been wishing someone would invite her to accompany the drinkers, so although she entertained the puppy-eyes Benson made at her for a few seconds longer than necessary she did ultimately accept.

"Does this mean we can put bottles of something more worth drinking on Cabot's platinum card?" Munch mutters, pushing his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Alex snorts.

"Tough luck, but if we go to a bar after I'll carry a round."

Olivia's head whips around and stares pointedly at Casey, firing off a quick, "No tequila," to which Casey makes the most indignant face Alex could possibly imagine on the copper-headed woman.

"Hey, that was not my fault- and also only once-" Casey defends, and Stabler starts laughing, slapping his fist on the table.

"Do you remember the whole thing with that-"

"Yes," Casey snaps, "I'm sure mostly everyone does, and if they don't then-"

"Casey, Alex wouldn't know." Olivia says lightly, elbowing the mentioned blonde, "Come on, Alex, aren't you curious? We should retell this for your sake, right?"

Alex's icy blue eyes met Casey's dense green ones, and she was momentarily indecisive. She wasn't friends with Novak, and she wasn't going to pretend that she was, as much as she enjoyed watching the copper-headed attorney play with the coworkers she was genuinely close to. She wanted to know, but as soon as she saw the guard up in Casey's posture, the way that Alex's rigid demeanor was mirrored immediately by the younger woman, she faltered.

Alex was stiff. Her spine was held to an excessively intentional angle. Even though to everyone else she seemed almost as natural as the rest of them, learned iron in her veins commanded her to be a degree of rigidness that came close to robotic. And Casey was the farthest thing from imperceptive.

In the courtroom, it was necessary to shoot the same metaphorical bullet as the one that had been fired at you, and Casey did nothing short, her vertebrae stacking above one another as she readjusted herself, jaw growing more firm, her eyes flickering to become hard and sharp in a way that would almost seem predatory had it not been for Alex's recognition that this was entirely procedural for the younger attorney. Alex knew in her head too that if she was interacting with someone else like this, she'd have done the same thing.

Lawyers had a way of exchanging thoughts without verbalization, and Casey and Alex were currently having an odd back-and-forth that happened within a fraction of a second completely unbeknownst to the rest of the room. Casey registered the swirl of thoughts in Alex's mind and her inability to formulate a response in time to seem natural, and with the ball in her court, decided to give the blonde attorney an out.

"Okay, fine," she huffed, as though she was actually unwilling to share, despite the fact she was fully aware Alex would not have moved to force her to and she could easily tamp down or distract the eager detectives, "long story short, Olivia and I started fighting, and she made a jab about me no longer being white collar's youth prodigy, so I tried.. to prove how youthful I still was- er, still am."

Alex wrinkled the tip of her nose, pursing her lips to stop from laughing at that, and Casey twitched an eyebrow jokingly before shaking her head.

As soon as her head turned, the copper-headed attorney decided to release the inelastic facade she had just momentarily constructed, leaning backward once more. To the eye of the others, nothing that demanded the level of thought that had just been executed had come close to occurring.

The older attorney wasn't entirely sure how to reward Casey for her kindness in that exchange, but she felt like she should. She made a mental note that she owed Casey something- perhaps if the copper-headed woman snarked at her sometime in the future, she'd let it go without question, or some similar social grace. Her uncle has drilled in the 'advice' that one never forgets what they owe another, lest suddenly be surprised when the other expects to collect.

"She ended up kissing this random blonde woman who was going through a divorce." Munch supplied helpfully, who earned a glare from Casey in return, and the seconds returned to passing at a more natural rate rather than the slowed pace Alex had just felt like they moved in. The conversation was resumed.

"No, the bad part wasn't even that she made out with her, but the fact her flirting consisted entirely of legal jargon-" Olivia filled in, and Alex snorted softly as Casey's head whipped in the other direction to glare at her instead.

"Okay, okay, listen- first of all, she was not a random woman, her name was Jane and we did keep in contact for the duration of her vacation here-" Casey raised a finger, cutting Liv off, "and if you understood any sort of vocabulary past fifth grade, it would have made perfect sense to you."

Alex paused, deciding this was probably a point at which a response was required to reestablish her presence so she could stop relying on Olivia to make her involved, "Well, it does seem like a- ... youthful thing to do?"

Casey's jaw fell slightly agape, and then she closed it with a huff. "Okay, well. Olivia's just pissed because I can actually involve myself with women."

"I'm not gay!" The brunette protested indignantly, to which Casey and Elliot exchanged a look that read as what-is-she-on.

Olivia was silenced for a moment, bristling, before extending her arm to rest on Alex's. "Alex, help me out, us straight girls need to stick together with all this-"

"Straight?" Alex questioned, an uncomfortable chuckle in her throat, "Olivia, you didn't know I'm-?"

"What?!" Olivia cried, straightening immediately, not affronted but apparently incredibly surprised, which Alex internally sighed at, only to be distracted by a low whistle from Casey that she decided not to respond to.

Internally, Alex was grappling with the new information that Casey was sapphic. She was too, although she understood why Liv hadn't known, she wasn't super forthright with her identity- but Casey?

After a moment's contemplation, she realized that this actually made a lot of sense and she felt mildly stupid for not having realized on her own.

"Yeah," Stabler says after a pause, "I think this is our cue to get going to the softball diamond before Liv has her whole am-i-gay breakdown right here in the squad room."

The rag-tag group collectively nods, shuffling for possessions, with Olivia still apparently on edge and lost in an internal conversation with herself about the possibility of homosexuality. After a few more moments of collecting items or putting things into respective places, and after Casey pats Olivia sympathetically on the shoulder, they begin to head out to the parking lot.

Alex clicked the key to her Cadillac, briefly pausing to obtain the address of the sports place as well as a time, since a few people wanted to drop by home to discard professional belongings or change, and because a few members of the DA's teams were still in session, before studying the exits of her colleagues.

Tutuola and Munch separate to respective vehicles, with Olivia being given a ride by Stabler as usual, and Casey splitting off from the group entirely to unlock her bike. Cragen excuses himself with the explanation that he's not going to meet up with the rest of them, he doesn't play softball nor does he drink so he's spending a nice night in instead.

Everyone's method of transportation seemed in some way reflective of themselves. Munch's windows were so tinted Alex was vaguely concerned about the potential illegality of it and Fin's car is beat up in a way that shows he doesn't abide by the physics of curbs. Olivia and Elliot's carpooling constantly served as a testament to their bond as detectives, and Casey...

"I still can't believe you actually bike here every morning. While wearing the suit? Jesus." Stabler bantered, leaning on the hood of his own car while watching Casey fumble with the lock on her bike.

"Well," she replied in a curt rasp, straightening, "that's why my legs are toned and yours would snap under water pressure-" she stopped to point at him almost accusingly, "and don't get me started on cardiovascular health."

Olivia drags Elliot into his car before the two start bickering again, and that leaves Alex watching Casey out of the corner of her eye as the attorney fixes her bike locks to the luggage rack before swinging one leg over the seat and taking off, her chin nestled in her scarf, her mid-length hair swirling behind her.

For a second too long, she lingers, but then Alex climbs into her cold car, groaning slightly at the feeling of the stiff leather on her back, before driving without picking out a destination. She didn't have anything she felt uncomfortable leaving in her car, nor did she have anything to pick up, so going to her penthouse was somewhat pointless. However, with about an hour until the designated time, staring out the window at the city streets far below seemed more interesting than staring at said streets on the ground level while seated aimlessly in her car, so she went home.

The elevator opened directly into her apartment, so she needed to use her key in the elevator pad itself, and when she did and the doors opened she dropped her briefcase right next to the door- it fell exactly the same way it would've if she had intentionally placed it, which makes her mildly irritated.

She didn't bother to kick off her shoes, placing herself on the couch in her apartment, and staring blankly at the wall. Her spine was straight, her legs angled to the side in the way her mother had taught her to make them look longer, her hands folded in her lap. Her apartment felt desolate. Her skin crawled.

She tried to focus on something- anything, really, in her apartment- but all she was met with was cold, smooth marble that her eyes slid off of. Plaquettes held her accomplishments that suddenly felt utterly pointless, framed pictures of her family or college friends that seemed impersonal. She couldn't keep a plant alive and she had never actually gone decor shopping herself, so the place was devoid of color, only shades of grey.

Alex groaned and placed her hands over her eyes under her glasses, tilting her spine backward until it hit the back of the sofa. It felt wrong, everything felt wrong, and her skin felt like it was crawling, her bones turning and burning inside her like she imagined cement would feel. It was uncomfortable in a way that wasn't painful- but that didn't stop her from fixating on the discomfort immensely.

The attorney rolled to the side, swinging her heels up onto the couch, one hand cradling her head and the other reaching to tug off her glasses. Strangely, in the dim blue lighting of the sun setting behind heavy clouds, her mind shifted to the opposite of said cold color- it landed on the shade of Casey's hair.

In the DA's office or in court when they crossed paths, Casey was stiff in the way every lawyer Alex had ever encountered was. The degree of rigidness that was learned by years of constant practice of saying and acting exclusively in intentional ways. Still, though, her eyes were always warm, in a way lawyer's eyes seldom were. But when she relaxed, which she was able to do, unlike Alex, she was simultaneously the same and also a completely different person.

She'd be lying to say she didn't know Casey was athletic- despite her unaware that she played softball, or was to any degree interested in her own physique the way her exchanges with Stabler today suggested- Alex had let her eyes linger on the other woman's arms on occasion in warmer environments when the redhead rolled her sleeves up. Her mind constructed the image of running her finger along the toned curve of her forearm, up her arm, and towards the delicate curve of her neck. In her imagination, Casey's skin was warm, and it only warmed further at Alex's motion. When she met Casey's olive-colored eyes, she was already looking back at her, eyes only half-lidded.

She felt her own cheek flush in her palm, and she sat up, shaking off the thought, but the sensation of warmth in her cheeks and the imagined feeling in the pad of her fingertip was enough to pull her off the couch, to the bathroom, where she took off the makeup she had done for court, tugging her suit jacket off, fumbling off her belt.

She wanted out of the porcelain, out of her skin for a night. She had seen the way Casey's guard had flickered up when she had faced her in the squad room, holding a mirror to the rigid body across from her, and she wanted out. The solution to that was to try to force the stiffness out of her soul so Casey wouldn't have any such thing to mirror. She had a reputation to uphold with the rest of the squad, with Liv and with Stabler, but Casey was more perceptive than Liv was- at least when it came to her- and she felt as though she knew enough to play it safe while still getting what she wanted. It would be an issue if Liv or Stabler or any of the other detectives or such lost respect for her professional standing. She was diligent, and hardworking, and she valued that about herself immensely, and she was not about to make the mistake of letting that persona fumble for a night’s activity. But still, she wanted a night where her skin felt like it belonged to her. If Casey's eyes didn't harden when she looked at her, maybe that would be close enough.

Her formal attire was replaced quickly, boot cut jeans instead of her slacks and although she didn't remove her white blouse she layered it with a loose sweater. She ran her fingers through her hair, intentionally messing with it, before nodding with satisfaction at her now slightly more casual appearance. The collar of her blouse sticking up through the neckline of her sweater was enough to not shift the persona the detectives identified with her, but she decided it was enough. It was enough that her uncle would click his tongue at her for wearing jeans while around a colleague.

She then proceeded to sit almost aimlessly on her couch again, drumming her fingers on her lap while waiting for the time to elapse so she could go to the softball field without being the first one there. In her mind, she debated writing up some notes or preparing for a case in the coming week, but she knew if she went back into lawyer mode it would just be worse trying to shake it off again. Unfortunately for her, as a kid all her hobbies were dictated- fencing, equestrian, ballroom dance and such, and since she never really grew attached to any of them and then failed to procure a hobby or pastime in her adult life, she didn't have much else to do.

Her phone chimed and she picked it up, assuming it would be something idle or law-related, only to find a text from a number she recognized, her heart thrumming insistently when it realized whose message she was currently reading.

Casey Novak→ Hello Alex, this is Casey (Novak, the one you work with, in case you know another)

Casey Novak→ Apologies for jumping this on you, but any chance we could carpool tonight? My bike is having a technical issue I can't be bothered with fixing it currently.

She waited a couple seconds before answering with,

← Seems doable. Send me your address?

Casey responded to that within a minute and Alex exhaled, mentally registering where that was, before standing up. With the detour of picking up Casey as well as the fact it doesn't really matter if she's early now because she's accompanying a player, she feels soothed to leave soon.

← Would you find it alright if I came in about a half hour?

Casey Novak→ More than alright, you have my thanks

← I'm more than happy to help.

After a pause, the message goes on read, and Alex doesn't really know what she had expected as a response. Mildly discontented, she put her phone down.

If she wasn't about to be driving, she would drink a glass of wine, but alas that was quite literally the point so she could not indulge herself. She pondered briefly the logistics of getting drunk when she was at the softball diamond, but worst comes to worst she’d just have to taxi. And, she supposed, would have to take Casey also in said taxi.

She felt her jaw grow a bit firmer at the constant resurfacing of Casey Novak in the back of her mind. Alright, sure, now they actually had plans and she was picking her up, so it made sense. But still. It wasn't exactly unlike her to develop random infatuations, desires to knock people she admired and simultaneously was irritated by down a peg, god knows the mistake with Jim Steele- but… Casey seemed… different.

Her heart muttered that Casey seemed warm and alive and her skin seemed soft and she was entirely unlike anyone Alex had ever grown attached to, Casey was not a power play, Casey was not a mind game. Casey was Casey. Alex didn't really understand what that meant.

She clicked her tongue to herself and then decided that no, she would not pursue anything with Casey. She had been toying with the idea of making that dream of tracing up Casey’s forearms with her fingertips a reality, perhaps as a flirty joke she could pass off as drunken boldness. But now her heart started to fumble in her chest at the thought, and not only in a good way. She wasn't exactly sure why her mind was suddenly reeled in the polar opposite direction of what she had been fantasizing about only a couple of minutes ago, but now she felt mildly stressed. Her skin crept little patterns on her nerves like ants blacking out a lamp, eating through power cords.

Maybe the fact she didn't really understand Casey is what sent little alarm bells ringing in her mind. To pursue meant to trust and to trust meant she had to know it all. She felt like she knew essentially nothing.

Sometimes Alex really wished she was less self-aware. She analyzed every thought or feeling she had like it was someone else’s, and therefore frequently felt as though she was drowning in someone else’s brain when in reality she was still sitting on her couch in her apartment in her clothes in her- supposedly her- skin.

It was time to leave now, anyway, so she cut herself off from her own train of thoughts to stand, and collect some items in one of her more used purses in case alcohol was split, it got snatched, or some other random misfortune that may occur to a handbag. Once she was pleased with her level of preparation she double-checked the contents one last time- car keys, one of her more mildly used wallets, phone, power bank, medical emergency kit, a notepad, a block of sticky notes, her pager, and a pen. She pulled a scarf on as an afterthought, not entirely sure if the temperature would drop as it got dark out but decided not to take that risk.

With that, she left her penthouse, standing stiffly in the elevator on the way down, staring at herself in the reflective wall the metal box had. Hmm.

Within twenty minutes, and exactly on time to the thirty minutes she had offered Casey earlier, she was parked on the street outside Casey’s address, looking up at a rather elegant brownstone. Sometimes she mused to herself that the modern aesthetic of her apartment complex far outranked the sort of shabby, oftentimes falling apart older buildings, but this seemed.. it seemed vaguely Elysian. She approved of it.

← I’m outside

Casey Novak → I’m sorry, I’m running a little late. Would you like to come up? I’ll buzz you in.

← I can wait in my car, I don't want to intrude.

Casey Novak → I’ll feel better if you just come on in. I’m inviting you. Please.

Alex blinked at that message, slowly typing out,

← Okay, then. If you're sure.

She exited her car with a furrow in her brow, locking the vehicle, and then continuing the steps up to the doorbell placard, where she found Novak’s name printed in a thin, flat font. She pressed the small silver button next to it, making a mental note of the floor and roughly which door it should be based on doorbell placement. A startling buzzing sound went off that Alex was thankfully prepared for, and she pushed open the frankly unnecessary large wood door. She traveled up the steps, to the third floor, deciding that she should start exercising more often if going up only three floors already had her inhaling a bit sharper, and she didn't need to wander reading the names next to the ringers because Casey’s door was open ajar and she was peeking her eye through the crack.

Alex caught a glimpse of Casey’s smile through the small opening, before the copper-headed woman disappeared in a flash, waving Alex in. She did as instructed, closing the door behind her tentatively. Immediately, she could not see Casey in her own apartment.

“Sorry,” the woman called, “I decided I wanted to shower beforehand so I need to straighten my hair again. That's why it's taking me a minute. Just sit down wherever you like, I’ll be done in just a second.”

“You straighten your hair?” Alex asked curiously, standing awkwardly in the foyer. Although Casey had instructed her to sit, she couldn't imagine pulling a chair out anywhere or settling herself on the younger attorney’s couch.

Inhaling deeply, she resigned to studying Casey's apartment interior with interest.

The interior walls were a smooth ivory, the floorboards a dark wood that matched the accents- the window and door frames, the stairs. Casey’s apartment was a lot more vertical than her own- where Alex had half of a floor, so her apartment was wide horizontally as well as deep, the walls were only a couple of feet on each side in the entry hallway and Alex couldn't imagine the rooms being, well, anywhere as large as her’s. But somehow, the comparison did not change the charm of the apartment.

Perhaps that had something to do with the atmosphere. It smelled like sandalwood and caramel, and the walls were lined with memorabilia- which Alex considered briefly was strange, because Casey's desk and office were almost barren considering some of the other workstations she had seen. She skimmed over smiling faces, Casey with dozens of people she’d see in this photo and never again. Casey with a little girl propped up on her hip, holding a little boy by the hand on a beach, all three smiling at the camera, but in a way that made it seem like it was almost unintentional, like someone had captured a moment in a camera which usually only existed in fond memory. Casey kissing a man with short brown hair, her arms, which seemed slightly thinner in the photo than Alex had grown to know them, (although the woman was always slim,) wrapping around his shoulders. She looked younger, happy, smiling into the kiss, and he did too. Probably during college, Alex mused. Casey’s finger, resting lovingly on his shoulder, was adorned with a silver band. Alex blinked.

She chided herself to move on with her inspection. Whoever this person was, it didn't seem like they were still in her life, unless Casey had been cheating on him with ‘Jane’. Stabler didn't take well to cheaters, so Alex really doubted that. She wasn't sure what the thrum of her heart was meant for- so she just exhaled. She couldn't drag her eyes away from it, though.

When she inhaled again, she was greeted with the scent of whatever hair products Casey was currently employing. It dragged her out of her thoughts, and it made her twinge with guilt at the thought of analyzing Casey’s history through her personal pictures. Casey was kind enough to be undeserving of an inspection.

There was no door between the foyer and the kitchen, so Alex turned to focus on that instead, her blue eyes skimming over what appeared to be a sourdough starter. Music played quietly out of some surround sound speaker, somewhere, something idle, and indie.

The dark brown of the floor was complimented well by the constant appearance of plants- not flowers, but succulents or similar. Apparently, Casey was in the middle of repotting one, because the table had a large tray with items that would suggest that.

“Oh, sorry about that-” Casey mused, appearing suddenly next to her, “I was trying to swap out pots for that one- roots were getting too big, you know, but then I got buzzed for a warrant this morning and dropped it.”

She smelled really good, and Alex wasn't happy that that was the first thing she noticed, but she did. Casey’s perfume, which Alex had noted a couple of times in the DA’s office, had just been freshly reapplied, and her hair was perfect in a way that only lasted a couple of moments after styling it. She looked in a way that Alex could only describe as warm.

Casey was dressed in a blue softball jersey that had ‘Sex Crimes’ bolded on the front in a lacy font and tracksuit pants. The usual frustration carried in her eyes and eyebrows was gone entirely, replaced with lights of excitement that showed in the way she held her hands and smiled. She wasn't wearing any makeup, only a dark lip balm that Alex now wanted to know the brand of.

“And yes,” Casey said, replying to Alex’s comment from a moment ago, despite it having felt like an eternity since then to Alex, “I do have to straighten my hair. Not all of us can be blessed with locks like yours, Miss Cabot.”

Ignoring the teasing nature of her voice as she said Alex’s more formal name, the blonde still lifted her eyebrows as if pained and shot her a look. “Please never call me ‘Miss Cabot' again- It’s just Alex to you.”

“Alright, ‘just Alex’-” Casey said, with an amused huff, before turning and waving at her abode, “verdict? You seemed interested.”

“I-” Alex pursed her lips. Casey was not stupid. If she hadn't been interested, she would've sat down like Casey had initially instructed or been on her phone, or been staring off into space. “I like it. You have a very lovely apartment. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Casey smiles, pleased, before glancing back down at the houseplant activity. “It would feel better if I had gotten to finish this, though. My mom insists I keep them all.”

“Why?”

“You know how in law school, you’d stay shut in all the time, sleep at horrible hours, and keep the blinds drawn? She bought me a million plants and kept making me show her they were still alive to make sure I was airing my dorm and letting sunlight in. And that I was looking up from my laptop at least for a minute a day.” Casey snorts, but she seems fond of my memory. “I guess she doesn't really insist I keep them anymore. She hasn't checked, anyway. But I got used to it. I swapped out her delicate plants for succulents, though, because I forget to water them sometimes. I’m not here very much.”

“Your mother seems like an attentive woman,” Alex comments, watching as Casey’s eyes grow momentarily heavy, staring still at the plant, before she blinked it off.

“I’ve been blessed,” she answers smoothly instead, “with a wonderful family.”

There's an awkward beat of hesitation, where neither knows what to say, before Casey exhales and forces a smile. “Have you eaten anything? If you're going to drink with Tutuola, you probably need something to eat. And I need to grab my gear and such. If we leave now, we’d still be significantly early.”

“I had breakfast-” Alex starts, before seeing Casey raise an eyebrow at her, “but it was a large one, Casey, I’m not trying to tear up your kitchen.”

“Sweet or savory?” Was the other woman’s only response as she strolled into her kitchen, opening cabinets and ruffling through items.

“I don't have the time to make you something properly right now, but God help it if I let you leave here without eating something.”

Alex stood uncomfortably in the doorway to the kitchen, a small unsure frown on her face, so Casey shot her a pointed look, walked over, grabbed her arm, lightly guided and then shoved her into a chair, and then went back to trying to find something to offer her.

“You seem,” Casey looked at her as if studying her brain through her skull, “as though you’d have a sweet tooth.”

“Why do you say that?” Alex looked at her, slightly indignant. Outside of being used as a method of intimidation, it was normally rude to brazenly note observations as such in the world she was used to. It was far more polite to make it sound as though it was a question.

But Casey just laughed softly, pulling a box out of the fridge and popping the lid. She fumbled with the contents for a few seconds. In the chair Casey had set her down in, Alex could not see what it was until Casey approached, holding a dessert fork in one hand with her other carrying a plate with a generous portion of red velvet cake.

“Fancy ass cake for a fancy ass lady. I made this yesterday, so I think it's still fine to serve you, even if the frosting set a bit more than I prefer. You don't have to eat it all, but I hope you at least try it.”

With that, and not even waiting for a thank you, Casey brushed past, going to collect her sports gear. Alex felt like her head was spinning slightly with the lack of normal procedure. She was being left alone to eat cake in Casey’s apartment? Wasn't the redhead worried she would- well, Casey had commented on the fact she knew Alex was borderline snooping, but to leave her alone after that? How trusting was she? Unless this was some sort of test.

Alex decided to proceed as if it were. What would Casey be testing? How much Alex trusted her? Maybe she thought Alex wouldn't eat food a stranger gave her, well- not entirely stranger, but still. But she couldn't fault her for that, could she? Regardless, Alex wasn't like that anyway. Maybe she was testing if Alex was too prudish to eat what she had provided. That sent a small jolt down her spine- she really didn't want Casey to think she was a snob- so she lifted the fork and in small, precise movements separated a small piece from the slice.

As soon as she felt it on her tongue, she immediately broke off a much larger portion to follow it with. Fuck. It was delicious.

Soft vanilla cream coated somehow equally soft red velvet generously, but not overwhelmingly, and once Alex separated off the middle she could see it was triple layered. The flavor was delicate, but in a way that made every taste bud in her mouth moan.

If she had to go celibate for the rest of her life to eat something like this again, she just might have to consider that. This was better than sex.

“Grandmother’s recipe,” Casey purred, reappearing with a large duffel slung over her shoulder, leaning in the doorway. “Well, not really, but it was one of the first things she made after she got access to the Internet and all the baking blogs one can find on there.”

Alex was physically startled, too engrossed in her eating to have realized Casey’s presence had reappeared. Casey easily could have murdered her while she was eating cake, and she wouldn't have looked up once.

She pushed the plate as if making to stand up, holding a hand in front of her mouth as her mother had taught her- it was impolite to see people see one chew, after all- but Casey shook her head quickly and took a seat next to her, leaning back, the duffel hitting the floor with a soft thud while Casey stretched out her arms, arched her spine languidly. Alex tried not to let her eyes linger on the soft amount of muscle coating her.

“By all means, I don't mean to interrupt your indulgence.”

Alex sheepishly turned back, pausing only for a fraction of a second before returning to shoveling the cake into her mouth as gracefully as she could. Casey looked very pleased, so that settled her nerves by a fraction. She couldn't and also wouldn't complain about Casey's bemused grin.

“It's- it’s just been a while since I’ve eaten anything this good.” Alex said after a swallow, straightening in her chair a little bit, looking at the remaining bites on her plate as if they were whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“You look good like this,” Casey said, which Alex’s eyes widened at, blinking up from the cake to Casey, who strangely looked equally delicious, “you're normally so tense. Glad my baking can fix that.”

“I- uhm,”

Casey chuckled at Alex’s fluster, resting her head in her hand. “Just teasing you. But really, I am glad you're enjoying it.”

“How did you learn to bake like this?” Alex murmured, decided to switch tracks since she wasn't very sure what was happening.

The copper-headed woman only shrugged. “You learn in a family as large as mine. I mean, if both of my parents were busy, I’m not about to let all the younger ones go hungry because the older one decided to order something only for herself. And now all my nieces and nephews demand I make them sugary shit when I’m over, so my pastries are decent enough.”

In the back of her mind, Alex was now a bit upset that she couldn't cook. Casey’s reasoning that it was due to her family made sense, but it also twinged Alex’s mind that if her parents were busy and she had nothing to eat, they'd just call for the private chef to come up and make her something nutritious enough. When she was in college, on her allowance, she had just kept ordering delivery. Casey and her seemed to contrast each other notably in that way.

“How many siblings, if I may ask?”

“Four. I have an older sister, and then there was me, and then two twin brothers and my baby sister. Not that she’s much of a baby anymore- she graduated college last year- but still. She'll always be little to me.” Casey exhaled, evidently very fond, before glancing back up. “And you, Alex?”

“I’m- I’m an only child.” Alex said, after a second, and before she could stop herself, “they needed an heir.”

Casey paused, looking up at her thoughtfully, before nodding. “I wished I was an only child a lot growing up. It's different now that I have my own life and everything, but… mm. Families are complicated.”

Alex nodded sagely at that, finally finishing her cake, and then after a small pause asked, “Did you want your own?”

The second she said it, she felt like it was wrong. It was an intrusion, and she was already in Casey’s apartment in Casey’s chair eating Casey's food with Casey's utensils. She was overstepping everything, and she was asking something from Casey she could not possibly believe she was entitled to knowing, without giving her an out.

Casey froze, her eyes icing over. She stared at Alex for a long moment, who now was sure she had done something horribly wrong, but then Casey’s eyes shifted from blank shock to mildly upset.

“Sorry- yes, I did. It didn't work out that way.”

Alex swallowed, and realized this was a decisive moment. She had relaxed, and she had slipped up, and now Casey was rigid, and if she bounced back off of Casey and tensed, she’d never get what she wanted.

So then, biting back her nature and what she was taught to say in such situations, she said softly, “It didn't for me, either.”

The atmosphere shifted entirely, so much it seemed like the colors had changed spectrum. Alex was now used to how fast her colleague could run through emotions and facades, and although that familiarity was from the courtroom, Casey’s demeanor now changing into something almost like solidarity reminded her a lot of it. Casey dropped her momentary coldness as fast as Alex could put down her form, but unlike when Alex changed the face she wore in order to elicit the response she wanted, Casey seemed like she genuinely just had a change of emotion.

“You're still young, Casey,” Alex continued, encouraged by the attorney’s return to warmth, “it’ll happen.”

“Oh, please. Alex. You’re what- two years older than me?” Casey chided, her voice light. “And you're hot as hell, so I’m sure you have suitors.”

“Casey, have you looked in a mirror recently? If I have suitors, you must have a line from here to the DA’s office.”

“Oh, you charmer.” Casey scoffed, but Alex meant it. She slid her hand underneath the now empty plate, bringing it to the kitchen, before picking up her duffel once more. “And now you get to be my driver.”

“I’m honored,” Alex smoothly joked back, collecting her purse and standing up.

She glanced around Casey’s kitchen, then glanced around the foyer, one last time before she followed the redhead out of her apartment. She noted the shift of atmosphere the second she stepped over the doorstep, and internally found herself hoping it wasn’t the last time she was there.

A more sensible part of her brain reminded her just now that she had decided against pursuing Casey, so such thoughts were not worth lingering on. Another part of her brain indignantly riled that she could enter someone’s apartment without any sort of connotation. A third part of her brain wanted to reexamine the circumstances of the decision to blacklist Casey from the possible companion category, while a third sighed loudly and wished they would all shut up. A fourth part snarled that she was not going to allow herself to be vulnerable with this enigma- yes, despite her niceness and her willingness to provide her with cake she still didn't have any grasp on Casey's psyche, so that's what she was- until she had enough to cover her ass if something went wrong. A fifth part just wanted to see Casey smile at her in the kitchen like that again. The fifth part managed to distract most of the others with daydreams.

Casey understood that Alex was in thoughts, so she did nothing to compel a response, although Alex was sure she thought she was musing about family or law or such.

Nothing was said until they reached the front door of the building, which Casey opened and offered, and then resigned to follow Alex to where she had parked. She gave a low appreciative whistle when she climbed into the front passenger seat tugging her duffel down and into the legroom.

“Fuck. I knew from the outside you had a nice car, but… jesus christ, Alex.”

“What? Oh.” Alex glanced behind her as if only just now registering that. It was a nice car. Her Cadillac had been a birthday present from her uncle, especially because her Bentley was sold off after her death. “I- thank you. Well, only the best for you, right? Now that I’m your cabbie.”

She was rather pleased with the hints of a surprised blush forming on Casey's cheekbones. If Casey kept throwing out random compliments at her, she should return that, right?

“It's just because of my bike-…”

“Please. You’re so quick to dish out the teases until I do so?” Alex hummed, amused, and Casey only huffed in response, pointedly looking forward.

Alex set the softball arena as her navigation’s destination, and allows Casey on aux, the same melodious background sound filling the car speakers as they begin on their way. Being the driver is good. If she was the passenger, she’d be darting her eyes too constantly to look at Casey. Casey apparently does not have this struggle.

“So tell me, honestly,” Alex starts, to fill the silence with a topic she knows Casey will yap over, “between you and Stabler, who has the better swing?”

“Me,” Casey says, with absolutely no question in her voice. “Elliot is good- but he’s too used to his job. In softball, most of the swing is supposed to come from the rotation of the shoulders, not the movement of the arm. Elliot relies so much on the idea of punching he doesn't really get that. He tries to push his palms forward and pushes one shoulder down. Besides, I’ve been playing softball for a much longer time than him.”

“How long?” Alex asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat. Casey was so forthcoming with information- well, yes, Alex had asked, but…

“Since my sophomore year of high school,” Casey answered, “There was this fight involving one of my little brothers and I- well, that's beside the point. Regardless, the coach took me aside the next day, said he’d never seen someone swing like that, and asked me to try out. I did, and that was that.”

Alex let out an exhale that felt like a soft laugh, so Casey quipped in response, “Have you ever played any sports?”

“Fencing,” Alex offered, “and equestrian, for a little.”

“Equestrian?” Casey perked up, “Wow, that's amazing. I’ve always wanted to try riding a horse.”

“I didn't really enjoy it much-” Alex looked over again, and she realized that was a mistake, because Casey was looking at her with such interest in her eyes that Alex felt as though she needed to run for the hills. “I- I… it just wasn't for me.”

“Why not? If I can ask.”

“My instructors had to scold me constantly for being too stiff,” Alex murmured, trying to make it sound lighthearted despite to some degree admitting the biggest self-struggle she had, “when you're on a horse, the horse has to be an extension of you, the same way when you hold a bat- actually, I’m not entirely sure of that, I’ve never played a ball-sport, but- when the muscles of the horse move, you need to adapt and move with it. Otherwise, the horse becomes vexed.”

“So young Alexandra was just being a vex to horses?” Casey chuckled, and Alex tilted her head at the jest.

“But if you tell anyone, they’d never believe you.”

“Oh trust me,” Casey snorted, “I’m not about to let other people know about baby Alex being a thorn in some training horse’s side. That’s something only I get to know.”

“Hey. You just used the adjective ‘young’, and now ��baby’- am I regressing? And I was more a pain in their back rather than side, unless I very immensely misunderstood where you're supposed to ride horses.”

In reality, the small thrum in her heart that she now associated with the younger attorney was very pleased with the information Casey apparently felt territorial on information regarding her. She couldn't describe to herself why that made her happy, but it did.

“Sigh. ADAs and their technicalities,” Casey shook her head, “and no, I could never accuse you of regression. You only ascend.”

“Good. Quick study, Casey.” Alex purred, the words a bit too soft and a bit too smooth, although she hadn't really thought about it that way until she saw Casey shift and decided she was very pleased she had said it.

It was Casey’s turn to fall into a blushed silence, her eyes fixing suddenly very straight on the road, as if she had never seen New York City before. Alex felt victorious, and she basked in that feeling.

They arrived at the softball field shortly, and as soon as they pulled over in the dirt parking lot and Casey stepped out of the vehicle with her duffel she was essentially jumped by a collection of random people Alex believed she probably had seen previously in the DA’s office- other ADAs, a couple interns. They surrounded Casey eagerly, spouting game talk- apparently feeding Alex cake had delayed her arrival, and she was the last one, so they had been waiting for it. The copper-headed woman gave her an apologetic wave over the shoulder as she was yanked off, and Alex felt uncomfortable. She tried not to feel as though she had just been shunned. If she had spent less time in her intern years sucking up and networking with her uncle and her uncle’s friends, perhaps she would know some of them. Her career was jump-started, she did not have the bond the others seemed to share of watching each other pull themselves up the ladder- despite knowing logically some of them must have also come from nepotism, at least to some degree.

The softball field was fenced in by wired mesh, and ‘softball field’ was really the only way she could describe it, because it was nothing else. There were a couple of bleachers that reminded her of a cheap high school movie- her school had definitely never had anything like that- but otherwise, it was just a meshed-in square in the middle of a flat field, with a large brick box-like building on the side. She spotted Munch already seated on said bleacher, though, and although she didn't know him as well as she knew Olivia, who her mind had been looking for initially, she wandered over.

“Hey,” he greeted her on arrival, motioning to the place next to him, which she tentatively sat down on after her eyes skimmed it to ensure there wasn't a layer of filth (there was, but she ignored it) “Liv's trying to hype up Elliot. He really wants to get Casey back for the last match.”

“What happened in the last match?” Alex muttered, not especially interested but aware she was required to continue the conversation, inspecting the floor of the bleachers for a place to put her purse. She decided directly beneath her was probably the cleanest.

“She- well, nothing exactly. She’s just ridiculously good. Not many of the DA team have her skill, but so long as she’s there she continuously wipes the floor with ‘em. MVP, easy.”

Munch turns to her, almost accusingly. “Oh, you're rooting for that team, aren't you?”

Alex considered that for a moment, then, “I’m rooting for Casey.”

“But, team-wise, you're on our side?”

“I’m just rooting for Casey.”

Well, we had the whole gay talk in the squad room earlier, so-”

“Careful,” Alex chided, cutting him off with a harsh look in her marble blue eyes, “your boyfriend is here.”

Munch looked over with confusion, then saw Tutuola walking towards them, and shot Alex back a glare through his dark glasses. As if on cue, Olivia materialized and plopped herself down next to Alex, handing her a flask and wiping her mouth with the back of her palm indicative of the fact she had just taken a swallow. “El has been given the best pep talk I physically know how to give. If he doesn't win, I’m done showing up to these.”

“Alex is rooting for the enemy while drinking our alcohol,” John fired, but Alex turned to him and, apparently intimidated, he visibly backed off. Olivia just laughed.

Alex took a swig from Olivia’s flask, grimacing at the feeling of vodka burning down her throat, but she took a second swig almost immediately. She already felt uncomfortable, skin prickling and writhing, and being drunk would make it better.

The game began with little issue, and Casey had meant it when she said it wasn't a real tournament so much so as a large group of very competitive friends being cheered on by a large group of friendly drinkers.

She was bored until Casey took the batter’s stand. Alex had absolutely no clue how softball was played, but Casey looked perfect.

It was probably the alcohol talking. Between her and Olivia, they had made quick work of the flask, Liv because she had started to become anxious on Stabler’s behalf, and Alex because she was double-thinking her decision to show up. But if she hadn't shown up, she never would've gone to Casey’s, she never would've gotten that cake and she never would've seen the younger woman's reaction to being told she was good.

And God, Casey was good. Alex watched her sprint, the way she swung so relaxed but so intentionally, completely in her element. It was dark other than the stadium lights, which definitely were not up to standard, but when Alex caught a glimpse of Casey's eyes she could see very clearly the glint of fierce determination.

John Munch had been very correct that the DA’s team- Casey’s teammates, were not comparable to the copper-blonde’s skill. But to that matter, neither were most of the detectives. Alex noted the reality in the way that Stabler swung as if he was trying to hook something instead of swinging a bat- Casey was right- but he still did fairly well.

Not well enough to keep up with Casey.

Every time she hit the ball with a heavy ‘thwack’ that reverberated in Alex’s spine, every time she started darting, long legs stretching out to slide the last meter, the furrow in her brow, the light reflecting off her hair. Alex felt positively dizzy. That last part could very well be from Olivia’s vodka- or so she reminded herself.

She had tied her hair into a bun- Alex mused to herself it was unnecessary for her to have straightened it, then- but it bounced as she walked up to take- no, own the stand. Her lips were pressed into that thin line she made when she was concentrating in the courtroom and was similarly undeniably attractive here, except the corners of her mouth tugged up in a fierce smile. Her movements were fluid and Alex decided that if she would've done well in equestrian, with the way she moved- her intensity was elegant, her movements as refined as a swimmer’s. Alex felt her chest tighten and her heart pounding as she watched, feeling almost greedy for more sight of Casey.

Other than her, she was displeased with essentially everything else. The people next to her were becoming progressively more drunk and more rowdy, cheering and applauding and calling out encouragement or jests to active players, who would yell incoherently back at them. The bleachers had grit stuck in the groves in the aluminum and she mused to herself she’d need to get the pants she was wearing cleaned.

The game simultaneously lasted fucking forever and was much faster than Alex thought it would be. Casey's team won, so Alex had to deal with Olivia huffing and chastising the DA’s team next to her and John giving her a very pointed look, competitive in the way of the observer, that she returned coldly.

Casey didn't come around until the detectives were almost ready to go. Stabler had returned, clenching his jaw after trying to convince a couple people to do some more practice runs with him, and Olivia bolted to her feet to sympathetically pat him on the shoulder. Alex, after a fraction of a second, rose too, and followed. “I don't get how she does that,” He kept grumbling, and Alex had to agree- but her opinion of that was different.

Alex watched out of the corner of her eye as Casey bounced around- literally bounced around, some of the younger interns were literally jumping with the adrenaline and Casey was mimicking it for their benefit- and they hugged each other tight around the shoulders, fluid motions and hearty laughs, until their noses and cheeks were tinted pink with breathlessness. Casey was here celebrating a win- a double win, now- but apparently, some other girl on the team had just lost a major suit according to someone Alex had overheard on the bleachers and the DA’s team was clearly playing on the enthusiasm and adrenaline to cheer her up. Alex watched as Casey grabbed the other lawyer in a tight hug, then pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her stomach fluttered and she looked away very quickly. She hoped no one noticed.

She looked back in time, though, to see Casey shaking the woman off her arm, and that settled the unease in her bones quickly. The other woman held her hand for as long as possible, looking at her with eyes akin to a lost puppy, but Casey only flashed her a bright smile and kept walking, letting her arm fall loosely over to her side as she walked away. She quickened her pace of exit when she saw Alex looking in her direction, jogging over.

“So, Alex?”

“So yourself. You were fantastic.” Alex chimed, and even though Casey was sweaty and was coated in dirt from the floor of the field she extended an arm to give her a half-hug and Casey took it, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder for a moment before letting go.

The others in the group shared similar observations, albeit half-heartedly, while Casey just grinned apologetically at Stabler who stood staring at her blankly. After a moment, the two exchanged a very informal fist bump, and tension eased from Elliot’s broad shoulders.

They chatter about the game for a while, recounting moments of note or teammates that were new or actions that were game-changing, until it was randomly noticed they were the last ones outside, the other legal system workers apparently having moved on to their own after-party that Alex noted Casey apparently had turned down and the other detectives had sullenly collected belongings and dipped.

“So, McMullen’s?” Stabler muttered, “I could use a beer after all this.”

“That's the one all the way near the precinct,” Munch argued, but Alex interjected with, “Let's do it.” That place was familiar- she had grown accustomed to it, and selfishly it was also very close to her apartment. John was left alone in his argument and they all nodded, separating towards cars with the knowledge they’d meet up shortly.

“You may have to drive,” Alex murmured, “I’m above the legal limit. That okay?”

“I get to drive your fancy-ass car? Hell yeah!” Casey cheered, “That's a reward on its own. Come with me, though, I have to grab my things.”

There was a small building off to the side, big enough to serve its only purpose as being a locker room. There were two doors and no windows, effectively a brick block that had no aesthetical component at all, and the lights flickered on as Casey went into one of the doors and hit the light. It kept flickering, though.

Alex stood in the doorway for a second, wrinkling her nose at the smell of very heavy spray deodorant and sweat, but Casey was talking to her, so it felt rude to let the door close separating the two, and after a second Alex stepped in behind her and tugged the metal door closed behind her.

“Did you mean it, though? That in the fourth inning I-”

“Yes, Casey,” Alex interrupted her, “you played very well. I don't say things I don't genuinely stand behind.”

It was rather endearing that Casey wanted her verbal approval, despite the fact Alex was completely aware Casey knew she had played well. She had been getting a stream of compliments and attention from her peers. It made Alex salivate that Casey had chosen to ditch the girl who had reminded her of a dog to talk to her instead. Maybe that was the alcohol talking. Maybe she should keep reminding herself that it was the alcohol talking.

“Hold on- look away, I’m going to change really quickly, and then we can get going.”

Alex felt her cheeks grow warm but she obediently turned on her heel to face the metal door, hearing the tug of a zipper as Casey stripped off her pants, then the rustling of fabric as her shirt came off, and Alex ground her teeth against each other trying not to imagine what was directly behind her. Casey sighed deeply, and Alex bit into her cheek.

She stayed like that, staring bolts of lightning into the door, until she felt Casey tap her shoulder, relinquishing her of the obligation. “Alright. Car keys, counselor?”

Alex pawed them over from her pocket wordlessly and Casey offered her a confused smile but did not press the issue, letting herself out of the locker room and heading towards the car.

She had changed into a white polo shirt, the top two buttons missing to dip and show her distinct collarbones, the cut of the sleeves emphasizing the subtle but firm muscles of her forearms. Beneath it, she carried dark jeans with a leather belt. She hadn't removed her hair from the bun, even though several strands of hair had fallen out near the front, and Alex tried to fixate on the shape of said bun on the back of her head while following her towards her own car.

Her internal monologue was failing to come up with reasons why she shouldn't be allowed to touch Casey's shoulders just a little bit. She could see the groves of muscle through the polo shirt- a little bit, right? Just a little bit?

Alex turned the music up in the car when Casey put it back on so she wouldn't need to make shaky conversation, and Casey seemed content enough with that. The duffel bag had been discarded in the back, Alex now in the passenger with Casey in the driver.

“You seem happy,” Casey commented finally during a lapse in the music- a long outro, or a long intro- and Alex just smiled slyly back at her. She was.

The bar was wonderfully familiar. Alex followed Casey to the booth in the back, the one their group always frequented, and the others were already there, looking up from menus no one really needed because they'd been there so many times everyone already had a signature.

Alex ended in between Olivia and Casey, the brunette on her left towards the wall, and Casey in the gap between her and the end of the couch. Casey struggled slightly- the booth wasn't large enough to accommodate a group of six people, but Alex was more than happy that it forced Casey to try to curve into her side. She didn't move over, didn't try to shove herself against Olivia to make more room for the redhead. With one leg crossed over the other and her shoulder firmly on Alex's, though, Casey made due.

They chirp orders to a bartender who wanders over, Alex graciously agreeing to carry this first round as she had earlier mentioned. Stabler ordered a beer more expensive than the type he normally drank, and Casey shot him a pointed look. He looked mildly apologetic, and Casey rolled her eyes.

John and Fin quickly began chattering about things below Alex’s pay grade, so she turned her attention towards Olivia and Elliot, who were discussing an upcoming event at Stabler’s children’s high school- a fundraiser, or some other such thing- and Casey listened eagerly. Alex stayed mostly quiet, unaware of how to participate in a conversation about public schools and children.

Besides, she had a much larger problem to attend to.

Casey's arm had snuck around her waist and was currently resting on the slight ridge of her hip.

Logically, she could reason that it was because she was intentionally making it more difficult for Casey to sit comfortably, the younger attorney still awkwardly very close to the edge of the faux-leather booth, but still. Her thumb was resting directly on the iliac crest, and if Alex paid close attention it was almost as if Casey was moving it, the rest of her fingers snaking just below it, grasping at the fabric of Alex’s pants. Maybe this was her punishment for enjoying forcing Casey to wriggle and balance on the very end of the seat.

She opened her mouth to join the conversation, but Casey, as though experimenting, ran her thumb in a line across the jut of her hip bone and Alex stiffened on impulse. As soon as Casey felt her spine tense like that, she hastily let go. Alex wished she could ask her to leave her hand there, though.

Why are you thinking like that, she internally chastised herself, Alex, you don't- you said you wouldn't try to do anything with… but she’s pursuing you, now, isn't she?

“Yes, Alex?” Olivia asked with a note of confusion, and she realized she had made to speak and then lost herself in thought. She didn't really remember what she was going to say, though. Her jaw was still open, but she just snapped it shut and shook her head quickly with a ‘never mind’.

Casey's hand did not return for the rest of the hour or so spent chatting at the bar, despite Alex’s struggling attempts at manifesting. She was uncomfortable, now, not because of Casey, but because of Casey's absence. She was pressed so close to her side but somehow it felt as though Alex had messed up, prematurely rejected her, and that something would shift in the dynamic now. The itch and ache behind her skin got progressively worse as she tried to mask her anxiety behind the mask, when really all she wanted to do was talk to Casey. The copper-headed woman’s conversations always included either Olivia or Stabler or Munch, though, and there was never a moment in which Alex could separate her off to start a banter or a hushed conversation between the two of them alone. So, mostly, Alex just sat there, watching her coworkers indulge in the moment while feeling isolated and cold. Her spine was not able to relax after Casey’s hand had left.

She started to feel sick with the rigidness of her body. She wanted to peel it off.

“You seem distracted,” Casey murmured lightly, her breath warm over the side of Alex’s face, her mouth precariously close as she leaned her face towards the side of Alex’s jaw, speaking into her ear. Alex hadn't even realized she had moved.

She steeled her eyes and turned to stare at Casey coldly, almost as if trying to scare her off, a habit she regretted the second she realized what she was doing- I won't let you get this close, I'm warning you- it said, but Casey simultaneously picked up on it, picked up on her regret, and simply grinned at her. She seemed pleased, even, that she was eliciting a response. Alex fumed inside of her mind at the amount of control the redhead had attained over her in the span of a night that wasn't even over yet.

“I’m fine.” Alex said in a hushed whisper, “Just- just drunk.”

Casey provided a low hum in the back of her throat, placing her jaw on Alex’s shoulder, blinking up at her through slightly narrowed eyes.

“Aren't you, Casey?”

“I assumed I’d be driving. I had a beer, but that was around an hour ago, now.”

“Oh.” Alex shifted, her face heating up slightly, “You're taking me home?”

“Do you not want me to do that?”

“I- but, how would you get home from mine? I don't- I can't really give you my car-”

“I can walk from yours,” Casey responded easily, to which Alex shook her head quickly.

“God, Casey, I’m not letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night, just-”

“Are you two planning on leaving soon?” Olivia interrupted loudly, who had drunk a bit more than both of them and seemed irritated in the way drunk people were. “I cannot wait to get away from this guy here,” the brunette sighed, jabbing a thumb at Stabler, who stared at her incredulously. Like Casey, he had also refrained from drinking so he could drop Olivia and John off.

“Olivia, I’m driving you home, and I stand by what I said.”

“But that doesn't even make sense!” She scolded him, “Why is the plural of mouse mice and the plural of goose geese and the plural form of moose still moose? Who the hell has ever said ‘Oh yes, what a lovely pack of moose there in the distance’-”

“Liv, I didn't say it didn't make sense, I just said it wasn't relevant-”

“Excuse you. This is very relevant to my day-to-day life.”

They blinked at each other for a long, slow moment, and Alex decided she did in fact need to get away from them. But, as she reached for her purse to drop what she owed, shame bloomed suddenly in her heart. Fuck.

She groaned quietly, her index extending automatically to rub the base of her glabella, tilting her head backward and squeezing her eyes shut with frustration and also an unwillingness to share what she definitely needed to.

Her discontent at her mistake triggered something else in her stomach, and she felt the familiar sensation of everything inside of her moving uncomfortably, skin aching and turning. She felt like she was about to be scolded by her father- or worse, her uncle- for lacking composure, for forgetting to keep track of every minor detail and interaction held.

It was important to be on top of everything constantly- no, it was necessary. She needed to. It was drilled into her as much as her skin was part of her anatomy, and regardless of how stressed it made her, she needed it compulsively.

She wanted to be someone else, and now she'd have to pay the price for it.

“Alex?” Casey’s voice sounded mildly concerned, and Alex tried her best to hide the embarrassment in her voice when she turned to the redhead and conspiratorially muttered, “I forgot my purse.”

She knew exactly where it was- well, unless it had been stolen since then, but she knew where she had left it. Putting it directly beneath her on the aluminum bleachers of the softball field had not been a wise choice given the principle of ‘out of sight, out of mind' and her lusting after Casey and Casey’s ridiculously attractive shoulders had not helped to remind her to grab it before they left.

Luckily she always kept three hundred dollar bills in her phone case in case of an emergency, so she popped it open and removed one to cover the table, waving off the others who tried to offer her change and similarly dismissing people offering to cover her drinks the next time the group joined at a bar.

“Well, we’ll just go back for it, then.” Casey replied smoothly, and Alex thanked the heavens Casey had not taken this as an opportunity to try to tease her, because Alex genuinely would've gotten mad if she had.

“But that's- that's half an hour each way,” Alex sighed, “and I’ve had too much to drive, but I don't want to ask you too-”

“Extra time with you? I can't complain. Come, now.” Casey grinned, swiping at her shoulder gently the way she had with Elliot earlier, and Alex couldn't help but crack a weak smile and follow her and she made her way out of the bar, waving goodbyes to the others.

“I meant it, though,” Casey starts once they're outside of the building, “you did seem distant back there. Is everything… alright?”

“I-” Alex started without meaning to, clamping her jaw shut and watching Casey unlock her car so they could both climb in, Casey placing the duffel in the back again as prior.

She watched the younger attorney raise an eyebrow inquisitively, which she responded to with a loose sigh.

“Nothing.” She said blankly, and listened as Casey echoed her sigh.

Alex could see the gears churning in Casey's head as they both clambered into Alex’s Cadillac, Casey’s eyes roving over the interior with awe once more. The copper-headed woman wasn't verbally pushing her to explain her issue but Alex wasn't stupid enough to think Casey would let it drop. She briefly worried that Casey thought it was her fault, but if she did, maybe she wouldn't provoke an explanation, and Alex was okay with that. She didn't feel like she wanted to verbalize this discomfort with Casey.

This car drive was again quiet, but not because Alex was in a state of drunken content, but rather because Alex was fighting personal demons and Casey was trying very hard to run through every possible list of what could've upset the older attorney.

“It was just one of my mulberry set, so it doesn't matter that much if it's actually missing or if someone stole it.” Alex said finally, to fill the void of silence.

Casey squinted at her, trying to figure out if that was sarcasm, but it didn't seem to be.

“I’m not going to grant that a response,” she said finally. “You rich kids are something else.”

Alex thinned her lips into a straight line but didn't respond. Casey was right, of course, they had very different upbringings. That's why Casey's skin suited her body, and Alex’s was constantly irritating her.

Neither attorney tried to fill the void of silence after that, not even with music, Alex staring blankly out of the side window while Casey focused on the dark road in front of her. Alex had moved on from her demons to anxiously smoothing her thumb in little patterns on her wrist, very uncomfortable without a distinct reason. This wasn't really about the purse, to put it plainly.

After what felt like an eternity, Casey pulled over, and Alex stumbled out of the car. The place was utterly devoid of people, although the lights were still on for some reason, and it wasn't hard to spot the dot of her bag in the distance even with her glasses. There was a light behind the bleachers that illuminated the spaces between plates of metal and she could make out a shape that blocked out the light exactly where she had been sitting. Without checking to see if Casey was following, she set out, wincing at the feeling of gravel and damp dirt beneath her shoes.

She had picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder before she registered Casey’s presence again, behind her, and the attorney's voice was soft as she spoke.

“Put it back down, Alex, play ball with me.”

Alex froze.

“What?”

“Play ball with me,” Casey echoed, and when Alex turned around the copperhead was simply tossing the softball up and down in one hand without even looking at it. Casey’s eyes were instead fixated intently on her.

Alex shrugged her purse strap tighter to her side as if it were a life raft of sorts. “I don't play sports, Casey-” she tried, but Casey just shook her head slightly, the bun that had slowly been coming out over the duration of the evening bouncing along with the rotation of her head.

“Just catch it,” Casey soothed, “and if you really hate it we’ll go back to the car. Put your purse down- come off the bleachers, come over here.”

It was hard to disobey when Casey sounded so direct, so after a moment of hesitation and a minor internal thrashing Alex set her bag down once more and stepped off the bleachers, onto the grass where Casey was. She knew her face must be exerting a twisted, concerned expression, but although Casey’s eyes were soft they were also immensely firm. Determined.

“I don't know… how to catch a ball.” Alex said lamely, holding her hands out stiffly in front of her. She was rewarded for her confession with Casey’s chuckle.

“Don't think about it,” Casey said, “just focus on me. You’ll catch it.”

The redhead paused her casual toss-catch rhythm, cupping the ball in her palm and letting her arm hang down by her side. She smiled reassuringly at Alex, who hadn't felt nervous like this since grade school.

“You've been doing fine focusing on me tonight,” Casey teased, after Alex hadn't answered, and Alex flushed, “so- should be doable. Ready?”

Alex wanted to curl into a ball and hide, honestly, so no, she wasn't ready. Straight spine, stiff shoulders, her head feeling like it was propped up on a pedestal rather than a neck. Her hands still were held loosely in front of her, as though someone was passing her a wine glass to nurse rather than a ball to catch, and her feet were right beside each other in the ‘natural’ resting position for her- which had been very unnaturally taught, and then forced, until young Alex did not automatically stand any other way. Casey’s brow quirked as if this was amusing to her.

The blonde’s brow furrowed in anxious concentration, and she took a quick breath, trying to focus on Casey as the redhead had so advised. And despite her teasing tone, she had been right, it was easy for Alex to focus on her.

It was really dark out, now, so Alex could only see the parts of Casey that were illuminated by the overhead beam, but it was angled in a way that she could still see most of her. Casey’s eyes were teasing but attentive, and her posture was entirely relaxed. She didn't look like she had when she was actually playing, which relieved Alex immensely.

When Casey had been playing, she had seemed athletic and agile, with muscles that rippled under her skin the way that a leopard’s might as it pounced. Now, more similarly to her courtroom appearances, her arms had relaxed back into how they normally appeared- although they always looked wonderfully lean- only slightly more built than the average woman’s. Her fingers were lithe as they wrapped around the softball she held, a degree of comfort interacting with the object that read easily as years of experience. Alex tried not to note the details of how the white polo shirt clung and accentuated her bust, or the curve of her waist. Casey’s stance- leaning slightly, more weight on one leg than the other casually, did not help Alex scrape her eyes off of her figure. She felt herself relax, slightly, drawn in by the details of the other woman’s form. She supposed it was easy to stop paying so much attention to herself and everything that was right or wrong in herself and her posture when she was given permission to study someone as- well, frankly, hot- as Casey.

“I’m ready,” Alex said after a long pause, running her tongue over her dry bottom lip to ease the nerves. She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it.

Casey eased her arm in a low arc, passing it once, then twice, the arc getting larger each time, before curling her fingers around the ball as she let it go in a firm underhand toss. Trained as she was, it flew in a bow formation, slow and controlled as it made its way directly towards Alex, who caught it instinctively, trapping it between her two palms.

She looked up at Casey with eyes as concerned as if she was carrying a grenade, and Casey laughed, her hands on her knees, evidently pleased.

“Good! Go on, throw it back to me.”

Alex’s nose scrunched up with focus as she tried to recreate the same motion Casey had done, her limbs feeling weird and disjointed, stiff and loose, unlike the fluid motion Casey had produced. But regardless, she threw it.

Casey catching it was entirely due to the redhead’s own ability, because unlike when Alex had caught it due to Casey’s precise aim, Alex had no clue how to direct the ball properly, and it fell short by about a meter, which was anticipated the second the ball left her hand by Casey who scrambled to get it, achieving the fear with only a mild degree of difficulty.

“You did it!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement the way she had when she had won the softball match hours prior, and Alex couldn't help but acknowledge her enthusiasm as very infectious. A small, genuine yet shy smile played on her lips and Casey darted backward again, taking her stance to throw it once more, which Alex did not move to protest.

Unlike last time, when Alex had caught it very close to her chest, the blonde with some degree of determination reached her arms slightly higher, managing to catch it while it was still in the air above her. She still used both hands, but it was a stark degree of progress.

Alex's face split open into a grin of genuine emotion, now, a smile that awkwardly expressed the strange pride she felt at managing the relatively very simple task, and without hesitation she threw it back to Casey, using enough force this time- correcting her precious mistake- so the ball was easily once again resting in Casey's hand.

“Look at you go,” Casey beamed, the corners of her eyes angling with the intensity of the smile she flashed Alex with, “now, this one’s harder, okay?”

This time, Casey threw it overhead, albeit still much gentler than she normally would. Her previous throws were meant to land directly at Alex’s stand, but this one aimed for a foot or so behind her. The blonde, however, had seemingly gained enough understanding of the ball’s arch to realize, hastily taking a few steps backward to once again encase it.

Alex mused to herself that she felt as though she was getting the hang of this, so she returned the ball once more, still using underhand, watching as Casey bounced backward twice to give them more distance. She threw it, and Alex realized it was flying too far to the side, and she scrambled in that direction, bending down strangely but managing to catch the softball before it hit the floor.

She looked up with a very sheepish expression, but was rewarded with the sight of Casey smiling as if it were Christmas morning, and she relaxed, standing up. Casey had apparently taken a few more long strides backwards, away from her.

“I can't throw that far, come closer.” She called, but Casey shook her head.

“You can make it to me- try out throwing overhead.” Casey urged, “And if it falls short, I’ll run and get it anyway.”

Alex stood, awkwardly still for a long second, staring at Casey, who just kept her bright smile. After a second, she glanced at the ball in her hand, and, mimicking Casey’s movement once again, extended one arm behind her slightly, rotating her torso, and then shot it forward, leaning forward into her swing.

Although she stumbled, looking up prematurely to see if the throw would arc the way she had wanted it to, it did fly almost all the way to the other attorney, who easily lifted a singular hand to catch it in her palm.

This time, Casey did not wait for Alex to recompose before swinging- and she did it differently, this time, lifting a leg to fire the ball at her the way she had during softball except with a bit less force. Enough force, though, that although Alex again scrambled for it, the softball flew too far to the side and the blonde woman ended up on her knees in the shortly clipped grass. She turned her head to stare indignantly at her companion, who just poked the tip of her tongue out of her mouth nonchalantly and motioned for Alex to go fetch.

She would never do anything so.. unpretentious. However, with Casey patiently grinning at her, Alex sighed, standing, brushing off her knees quickly, and then briskly pacing to retrieve the ball, which had landed only a few meters to her side.

“Are we done, counselor?” Novak called from her place a ways away, and Alex raised her eyebrow at the other woman incredulously.

“After that?” She scoffed, and threw the ball again more forcefully, purposely not really aiming at Casey who thus had to hasten towards it, reading its path but still needing to scurry multiple meters, catching it but only just barely. Alex refused to note how elegant the motion was, despite how awkward it really should've seemed.

Alex did not have the time to further study Casey’s elegance because the redhead was already firing back at her, one leg raised high at the knee as prior, and that only really made her understand how attractive Casey’s legs were- her undivided attention to the attorney’s arms had made her miss out on something else equally appealing.

This time Casey was gracious enough to aim at her once more, and Alex caught it, each grab easier than the previous.

They repeated this exchange, Casey’s throws were much smoother and intentional, except she kept occasionally throwing slightly higher or lower or to either side to force Alex to move herself. Alex occasionally missed her grab or not being able to close the distance in time, which only fueled her play intensity when she returned the ball. Alex’s throws were mostly loose, but for the most part, they went far enough, and Casey was more than happy to scramble for them, ending up on her knees multiple times but never failing to catch it firmly.

Casey had started laughing, at some point, delighted to be playing no matter how bad her play partner was, and Alex hadn't even realized when her grin became permanent and her exhales started to sound like breathless giggles.

Eventually, Alex’s breathing started coming faster, and there was a thrum in her heart unrelated to Casey, and said woman realized the blonde was starting to get tired. She stopped the back and forth once the ball returned to her palm, choosing instead to jog over.

“Let's try something- hold this.” She murmured, tossing the ball into the air, which Alex now easily and casually managed to snag.

She reached over and adjusted Alex’s position, smooth hands gliding to shape the rotation of the older woman’s shoulders, lightly pressing to move her hips, gliding across her arms to rearrange the assortment of limbs.

She then turned to stand beside her, mirroring the posture she had just moved Alex into, looking at her with a sly grin. “Now, when you throw, I want you to curve like this-” she demonstrated, her motions causing the fabric to ruffle, her shirt rising up slightly at the hem to tease Alex with a thin strip of the woman’s abdomen, “and raise your leg like this, and then,-” she made a hushed whooshing sound, a cartoonist version of a ball being thrown.

Alex nodded obediently, starting to prepare herself before Casey shook her head quickly. “Give me a headstart- I go on two, and you go on zero. Okay?”

The blonde was now mildly confused on what Casey was attempting, but regardless nodded, frozen in the position Casey had sculpted.

“Five, four, three..” Casey counted down, slowly creeping her body down into a low lunge, “two-!” she bolted forward, and then Alex understood, mentally counting down the last two numbers before flinging the ball as hard as she physically was able to.

She was then content to straighten out, catching her breath, while watching Casey sprint after it. Her strides were so long and so light Alex wasn't sure she was even really touching the ground. With the movement, her ever-loosening bun snapped open, and auburn hair flowed as if cascading behind her, and Alex's breath caught still in her lungs.

Even though the ball did manage to outfly her sprint, she was damn near close when she dove for it, sliding on one knee to retrieve it, skidding to a halt a little ways away from where she had initially landed. She jumped up, shook herself off, and then jogged back, a breathless grin on her face.

“I thought I had it,” she panted, “I’ve always wanted to try doing that.”

The copper-headed woman proceeded to flop down on the grass, rolling so she was lying on her back looking up at Alex who was still breathing with a little more labor than she’d like to admit from their previous shenanigans. After a second, Alex carefully sat down next to her, near but not close enough to be on her loose hair by accident.

“You were very close,” Alex agreed, eyes never leaving Casey’s enthusiastic ones. “I didn't know people could be that fast.”

After a brief second, she reached out and rested her hand on the front of Casey’s shoulder, who blinked up at her. It was a reassurance that Alex’s earlier silence wasn't her fault, Alex tried to convey, that Casey had done nothing wrong and everything right.

Casey sat up to look at Alex more directly, but she raised a hand to keep Alex’s fingers resting on the flat of her chest and an inch below her collarbone. Her face was close to Alex’s leaning forward so boldly Alex almost thought to lean back.

“You look good like this,” She cooed so lightly it was almost smug, almost victorious, “you’re normally so rigid, so overtly mannered.”

It was then that Alex realized she had not registered anything of herself outside of trying to figure out how to position her arm to throw better for the past while.

Nothing had seemed to exist outside of Casey laughing gleefully across the field, bouncing from one foot to the other while waiting for her to launch her softball back to her- as much as Alex could launch it- and as soon as the ball had left her hands, the only thing she thought of was the sight of Casey running to snatch it midair, her hand itching to feel the leather again so she could try again, see if she could throw it farther, and more forcefully.

See if she could make Casey laugh harder, the giddy sound almost echoing in the night, filling the void and almost creepy vacant softball field with audio so genuine it made Alex’s heart flutter. See if she could elicit another called praise, or another witty comment from the woman she had been eyeing so intently.

Her limbs and joints felt loose but connected, blood racing through her veins happily as if finally allowed to dart around her body, resurfacing energy and releasing dopamine in a way she hadn't felt in what must now be years. Her bones felt as light as a bird’s, and her skin was so enthusiastic at the play it nestled onto her body like a puzzle piece that finally clicked into place, and even now that she was finished, it felt like her own. For once, Alex had earned the right to feel comfortable in her own skin.

She hadn't cared to ponder what she must look like, in a blouse layered by a sweater in a field with her glasses, tripping over herself to try to play ball with a woman who could pass as a semi-professional athlete. Her chest must be heaving in an effort to catch her breath, her lungs entirely unused to anything more strenuous than stairs, her legs long but her ability to use them only equivalent to a fawn’s. But whenever she had caught Casey's playful eyes, they looked at her like her stumbling self was a million bucks, and that was enough for her.

This was enough for her. Her goal for the night had been realized in full.

“What are you thinking about, counselor?” Casey breathed, and Alex realized she had leaned even closer, dark green eyes searching her’s as if she could read words in Alex’s pupils.

Alex almost thought she was assuming something until she caught the microaction of Casey’s eyes darting to her lips, before glancing up a fraction of a second later with a hint of shyness in her expression- something Alex had never seen, but certainly wasn't complaining about- and Alex was more than happy to indulge her, seeing as how Casey had spent the last hour trying to ensure Alex could ease some of the rigidness from her soul.

She left the hand Casey had touched on her collar, but brought her other hand up to cradle the back of the redhead’s skull, closing the small gap between their faces, and pressing her lips gently against the other woman’s.

Casey let out a small, whimpered sound, and Alex tried to let her go, only to be tugged back with ferocious intensity.

The younger woman pushed her into a more structured sitting position, one leg swinging over Alex’s lap to straddle her hips, Casey’s hands cupping the sides of Alex’s neck, one thumb on her jaw. Her lips were so soft, but so exhilarating, Alex felt as though she could melt, Casey pulling them apart every couple seconds just to come back closer a second later. Due to the nature of their position, Alex had to crane her neck to angle her face up at her, the column of her throat exposed, and Casey was clearly thrilled, her hands exploring her jaw and below it, soft touches that felt rather greedy.

Alex was finally able to take what she had been fantasizing about- when Casey pulled them apart for a second, panting for breath much harsher than she ever had while exercising, she untangled her hand from the auburn locks she had grasped and ran her hand instead down Casey’s shoulder blade, reveling in the feeling of the soft muscles and the small noise Casey made when she did so, catching the woman’s mouth once more to swallow the sounds she made as her hands both moved to smooth over Casey’s biceps, her triceps, her forearms, and then back up again.

“Alex,” Casey breathed into her mouth, before Alex shifted, pressing her back into her lips, to which Casey had no protest. The copper-headed woman’s hands stopped so much exploring as they did holding for support, and Alex mused to herself- the first coherent thought to break through the haze of bliss she had found herself in- that Casey must have thought she’d be the one to have the other squirming. The thought amused her, and only compelled her to continue feeling her up.

“Alex-,” Casey was whining now, Alex’s hand slipping behind her lithe figure to her shoulder blades again, running her fingers down savoringly before turning her attention to her ribs, using her thumbs to brush against her breast only slightly before moving down her to waist, utterly enraptured.

Alex bucked her hips, startling Casey as the blonde pushed her off entirely, and then kept pushing, rolling them over until Casey was flat on her back, and Alex was over her, her knees buried hard into the dirt to keep her above in a way that would've made her quite upset at the grass stains they’d be sporting later had she not been so enchanted by the feeling of Casey moving, Casey’s muscles bunching and twitching as she moved against her.

“Oh,” Casey gasped, and Alex paused, raising her hands to either side of Casey’s head so she could smile down at the woman whose cheeks were so red they almost matched her hair.

Her blonde hair fell to frame Casey’s face, who breathlessly tried to push it out of the way so she could see the triumphant gleam in Alex’s eyes, and then Casey propped herself up on her elbows to land a soft kiss on Alex’s grinning lips.

The normally overtly composed woman broke into a giddy laugh, sitting up, before rolling to the side so she could lay next to Casey in the dark grass. Casey snorted lightly at the sound of it, rolling to the side so she could study Alex’s gorgeous side profile as the woman looked up to the dark night sky above them.

“I guess this solves the issue of us going to separate apartments with only one car,” Casey breathed, and that just made Alex laugh harder, lulling her head to the side to meet Casey’s eyes and see her quiet smile.

All of Alex’s strings had been cut. Right now, she felt anything but stiff. Anything but rigid.

[mothlau]

hello, for the kink meme, could i humbly ask you for leztappen and watersports/piss kink please? (and, if possible, with little to no desperation/humiliation?)

also, i wish you a happy new year, may it be filled with joy and good things for you!

hiii beloved!!! this one got out of control and also I hope it has enough humiliation. I tried to tone it down but honestly, it's piss play, you need the humiliation. anyway, happy new year to you too! 10 days too late but oh well! enjoy the piss play, puppy play, daddy kink and gp!max combo friends:3 (kink meme here)

6451 words :3

Most of their friends assume that it's Charles who's wrapped around Max’s finger. That she cannot say no to Max no matter how extravagant the demand may be, that whatever Max says or wants is final. To an extent, they're right. After all, she’s the femme, and according to people’s heteronormative minds, the one who is more feminine in the relationship is the one who cares more, who’s more attentive. 

Charles is wrapped around Max’s finger. But just as much, Max is whipped for Charles. If someone were to compare the amount of fondness they have for each other, people will quickly realize that it's not Charles who's wrapped around a little finger 24/7. 

It's Max. 

Max cannot deny Charles’ wishes; Max bends the whole world to give her lover the happiness she deserves. It's Max who spends nights upon nights to plan perfect getaways for their anniversaries, it's Max who gave into her wishes and got Charles the Steinway and placed the piano directly in their living room.

And, at the end of the day, it's Max who does everything in her power to make sure Charles enjoys herself. 

Whenever she notices something that Charles may find pleasure in, she stores the information away, making sure to bring it up when they're discussing scenes or new interests that may have sparked. Even with Charles’ overbearing eagerness to try new things with her, she  rarely initiates ideas. 

She's still shy, in spite of the time they've been together. It's endearing to Max, that Charles still blushes bright red when Max takes her bra off, that she’s still a mess when Max slides her hands down her thighs.

The list of things she wants to try is getting long, something that Max doesn't mind, per se. She doesn't, because in the end she can twist Charles into the perfect little puppet for her to toy with. They don't mind, because they’re certain Charles will like whatever they propose to her. 

He's toyed with an idea before, almost put it into action too, but in the end it didn't seem fit to make Charles piss herself without any rules set in stone yet. There's no doubt that the woman won't agree with it, but Max will rather postpone their play than do something that may make Charles even a little bit uncomfortable. 

So, despite her wishes and desires to break Charles, Max keeps everything under wraps. 

Whatever thoughts Charles shares with them during heated sessions and foggy mindsets, Max notes all in their head, safe to be used later on. Where to hit Charles, how to press her buttons theoretically, when to push, when to pull. Every little idea, all of them organised in Max’s brain, nicely and orderly. 

The last thing Charles told them about seemed easy enough when she first uttered her fantasy. Slap Charles’ pussy until she was cumming and begging for mercy. Simple, Max's done worse in her relationships. 

But with Charles, it wasn't as simple. She’s hit her lover before, tied her up and used whatever she fancied to break her, but it was always kept under an invisible, unspoken line. 

In spite of his cruel hands and words, Max can never truly hurt her beloved Charles. As much as it turns Max on, it pains her to cause her harm, even when Charles begs for that torture. Unless she's positive, one hundred percent and then some more, that at the end Charles will be drunk on pleasure. 

It's not unusual for their plays to be hit or miss, but Max prides herself in them being hits most of the time. 

They mention wanting to try new things during a relaxed dinner, when they’re almost sure Charles forgot about the things she's babbled on during a previous scene. And, of course, Charles agrees readily, albeit a bit timid and flushed. 

After that, it's smooth sailing on Max's side, at least. Charles is stuck with anticipation bubbling under her skin and the fear of uncertainty tearing at her conscience. 

To Max, who likes the waiting game, it's beautiful. To Charles, who is used to getting whatever she desires with minimum effort, it's hell. 

Every other day he makes Charles drink more than she can usually handle, slowly but surely trying to train the woman into holding her piss longer and longer. Most days it's a hassle which ends up with Charles whining and rushing to the bathroom, Max not bothering to stop her. But then there are some days, rare and in between, when Charles manages to go hours upon hours without running from Max's hold. 

The praise Charles gets also helps her, no matter how much she's trying to deny the humiliating claims. 

Almost a week later, Charles pushes a full bottle of water into Max's hands, making her look away from the laptop. Max doesn't need any clarification as to why she does this, nor does he need any pleas or guilty looks to nod at Charles' silent request. 

She trusts Max enough for the blonde to gain complete control over her bodily needs. Max can't help but smile fondly at it as they let the bottle rest on their thigh. Charles sits on the ground, head thrown back on the edge of the couch, minding the poorly balanced laptop. 

"Whenever you're ready," Max whispers, hand reaching out to tug at a few matted strands. Charles simply nods and allows herself to fall, Max's soothing touch being the only thing keeping her afloat. 

It takes Charles only an hour to finish the water, drinking obediently every time Max urges her to. She's even quicker to bring Max another one and one more, all whilst finishing them without any fuss. 

And then, as Max closes his laptop and opens his arms for Charles to crawl into, it only takes a few minutes for Charles' eyes to get cloudy and for her touch to get needier. The sight before her makes Max euphoric, an undeniable call to protect and please the withering woman in her lap. 

"You still with me, darling?" The words are barely above a whisper, but even so they grasp at Charles' conscience and pull her in just enough for the brunette to nod against Max's chest. All pliant and soft in their hands, Max isn't sure whether or not to move their play away from the couch and into their bedroom, where towels and mats lie specifically for what's to happen next. 

"Hurts a bit, Maxie," Charles says, voice all hushed and feeble. The hand resting on Max's bicep tugs and squeezes, a poor attempt for Charles to regain control over herself. 

"Colour, pretty?" 

It takes Charles a moment, already gone and drifting, but soon, she mumbles a simple and clear, "Green." 

"Do you want me to carry you to the bedroom, angel? I don't think we'll like our couch smelling like piss after this." 

Despite how embarrassing the words should be, Max doesn't find them shameful anymore. She’s been fantasising about this for months now, the idea of watching Charles crumble under her orders and hands, her lover losing whatever ounce of self-control she still has and letting it all loose. That's enough for Max to push away any shame that might've been left inside. 

With Charles, it's not the same. The woman’s face flushes a bright red, the color travelling under the collar of her shirt, painting the hidden skin in beautiful hues of reds and pinks. Almost as beautiful as the marks they flush over. 

Almost. 

When there's no answer coming from Charles, Max gets the unspoken message. As always, Charles wants Max to carry her, manhandle her as if she's nothing but a lightweight in Max's hold. Which, undoubtedly, she is. 

With a quick movement, Max stands, gentle hands reaching out to lift Charles with ease. Her perfect little girl whines and squirms, the sudden change already too much for her sensitive state. 

"This ok?" Max asks, voice full of worry. 

Charles can only nod again, words lost somewhere in her head, muddled by thoughts full of desire, lust, animalistic instincts. After the quick answer, Max takes her time getting them to the bedroom, mostly because with each sickeningly slow step she takes out of the living room and down the hallway, Charles becomes that much more responsive to Max's cold touch. 

In preparation for their scene, Charles spread out the puppy mats they’ve gotten, while Max took his time to make sure that nothing of value could be ruined. The pillows were all sitting on the reading nook next to the window, towels have been placed close enough to the bed that Max didn’t have to look around for them and amid the whole mess of colorful cotton and stark white paper, now lies Charles. 

Charles, her perfect girl, who looks up at Max as if she’d hung the stars in the sky and then proceeded to create a whole universe just for Charles. Charles, her lovely girl, who is barely able to hold back tears as Max refuses to touch her just yet. Charles, her divine lover, whose back arches off the puppy mats when Max's knees hit the mattress, wanton moans and whined pleas falling from between bitten lips. 

"Puppy," Max bites back a smile. "Puppy, can you sit up a bit?" They crawl on the bed, remaining above Charles without their knees touching the woman’s sides. "I want you to drink some more, can you?" 

"Yes," Charles breathes out, fingers tightening around the puppy mat underneath. "Yes, daddy. Anything for you, Maxie." 

Max's face fills with love and adoration for the woman writhing beneath. Such a perfect, responsive being, all belonging to Max alone. He couldn't be happier. 

Helping Charles sit up, back leaning on the hardboard, Max reaches for the bottle left on the bedside table. Another thing Charles prepared, in hopes that Max would make her drink it and push her to the edge. 

"You're being so good for me, Charlie. Making me so proud right now." 

"I am?" Charles asks, a look full of hope blooming on her face. 

Max kisses the smile off her face, gentle and careful. "You are. My best girl, perfect little one. That's what you are, Charlie."

"Maxie–" the human whines, pressing her face into their open palms. "Need you." 

Unable to stop herself, Max pushes with her malevolent teasing, a vicious smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You need me? How? Need me to touch your greedy cunt? Need me to slap it? Want me to press here?” Max's fingers push on the swollen bladder, light enough to simply make Charles cry out. “Or maybe you need me to fuck your dumb hole until you’re pissing all over yourself.” The woman sobs again, nodding along with Max's words mindlessly. “Which one is it, puppy?” 

“Yes,” she answers, muffled by her own hand.

“Dumb puppy,” Max smiles, feeling his chest overflow with butterflies and flowers. “Let’s finish the water first, then I’ll decide what you deserve.”

The silence that fills the room feels deafening as Max watches Charles. She is struggling to twist the cap off, fingers white with how hard she’s gripping the bottle. Max makes no move to help her, smirk still plastered on their face, eyes ranking up and down Charles' shaking body as she gets more and more annoyed. 

She lets out an exasperated whine, head hitting the wood behind him, “Max.”

“Yes, pup?”

Suddenly she has a handful of plastic to deal with, all while Charles stares at her with the same hurt expression she abuses whenever Max refuses to immediately give in. He can’t say no to her, no matter how much he’d like to watch her struggle some more. One simple twist later, the warmed liquid spills onto Charles shorts, seeping into the cotton and making Charles tremble.

Without uttering a word, Max grabs Charles face, fingers digging into the woman’s flushed cheeks to hold her mouth open. Charles tongue lolls out, expecting Max to spit on top of it, to push their finger past her lips and fuck her mouth ruthlessly. 

From her place above Charles, Max laughs. Her weight falls atop of Charles thighs, sweatpants clinging to her legs, making the restrictive touch feel worse. If he could, he’d take the pants off in an instant, but right now Max has to focus on Charles and Charles alone. 

Pink lips attempt to close around Max's fleeting forefinger, but the force Max has stops Charles before she can even whine. The water bottle feels heavy in her hand, and though it would feel rewarding to dump it over Charles' head, humiliate her further, Max knows that what’s to happen next will be even sweeter. 

“Charles,” she says, tone icy cold. Max sees her lover swallow, fear budding in her eyes. “Tilt your head back for me, mutt.”

That’s all the woman needs. Eyes fall shut, mouth slips open with little resistance and her head falls back. Max's hand still resides on top of Charles’ cheeks. She can’t stop herself from moving it lower, enticed with the beauty presented so effortlessly in front of her. It rests on the column of his neck, barely touching the trashed skin. 

Underneath him, shudders run down Charles’ spine, lips agape in a soundless moan. They’ve never seen something as beautiful before, not once in their lifetime have they witnessed such perfection falling apart mere centimeters away from them. 

Bright red spreads down Charles neck, skin hot beneath Max's hold. The woman’s cheeks, dusted scarlet and covered by a thin layer of sweat, invite Max to press kisses on the crimson expanse of her face. A promise of being able to do so after he breaks Charles consoles Max's urge to revere the angel. Her pretty girl shifts under her touch, eyes opening slightly to see why Max is not painting her skin in hues of purple and red. 

“Daddy…” Charles sounds wrecked already. “Why aren’t you touching me?”

“I am, silly,” Max answers simply, hand tightening around the brunette’s neck. “See?”

A pathetic whine rips through Charles sobs, fingers closing around Max’s wrist. It is so unbelievably easy to toy with Charles’ feelings, to push her buttons until she’s begging like a mindless, broken mutt. Max loves it, almost as much as she loves the gentleness that engulfs them after. 

“Let’s drink the water and then I promise to touch you however you wish.” His thumb presses in the neck juncture, eliciting a pitiful moan from his beautiful lover. “Colour, Charlie? You still with me?”

“Green, daddy,” Charles breathes out, her hold on Max's wrist relaxing. “Please, Maxie… Please ruin me. Need-- Need it s’ bad, baby. S’te plait”

Something about the slurred speech, the glazed look in Charles’ eyes when she pins Max under a lustful glance, the slight tremble in Charles’ hands and shoulders stops Max from pulling the woman’s head back. He’s never had Charles this far gone before they even started. Part of them wants to stop, pull their lover out and make sure she’s alright and coherent enough to know what’s happening to her. 

Reluctantly, she lets go of Charles, scooting back enough to loom over her while still presenting a form of comfort for her shaking lover. 

“Charlie, I need you to check in one more time. Can you do that for me, please?”

“‘M green, Maxie. Promise.”

The look that Charles fixes Max with is one of pure lust, undeniable desire burning hot in molten emerald. It sets Max back a few steps, a carnal desire spreading in her blood, wrapping around each and every organ inside of her. It tugs painfully at the ravenous wish to destroy Charles. 

Holding back those sinful impulses, Max leans back in, hand on Charles shoulder as she carefully presses a kiss on the woman’s nose. Soft and gentle, exactly the opposite of what Charles asked for. 

Charles mewls, fingers tightening around the material of Max's shirt. “Max. Fucking fuck me, you idiot.”

He moves without thinking, the ear splitting sound of a slap resonating in the room. “Impatient mutt, you have to wait for what you want or else I’ll leave you. Do you want to be here alone, without my help or permission to touch your pathetic pussy?”

“No!” Charles all but cries, thrashing under Max's weight. “‘M sorry, daddy, didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t leave me.” 

The tears streaming down Charles’ cheeks ignite the fire further. Their body feels aflame, possessiveness spiraling inside their chest. Max is the only one who can make Charles cry like this, the only one who can light her body a bright vermillion with few and in between touches and stares. He is the only one who will never leave Charles, not in a time of need, not in a time of sickness. 

Never. 

“I’d never leave you, darling,” Max reminds her, voice dripping in honey. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me.” 

“Forever?” Charles asks, gaze shy, yet hopeful. 

“Forever,” Max easily agrees, sealing the deal with a short lived kiss. 

The tenderness is just as short lived, mean fingers wrapping around Charles locks and finally, finally pulling her head back. The woman’s lips fall open as she swallows dryly at what’s to come. 

Max wishes she could capture the work of art unraveling in front of her, keep it forever with her, tucked into her phone for her to enjoy when apart from her lover. Shaking her head, Max pushes those thoughts aside. 

“I’m going to make you drink all of this water, Charlie. Gonna make you drown on it until you’re sobbing and pissing all over yourself, understood?” Her voice leaves no room for argument and Charles can sense the strictness. She nods, attempts to despite the hand holding her head still. 

Not a single breath escapes Max while he pours the water past Charles parted lips. Mesmerized, he watches the woman struggle to swallow, her Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp she manages to take. Tears fall from her closed eyes, breathing becomes more erratic. Still, Max doesn’t stop pouring. Not when water leaks down the sides of Charles face and onto the mats, not when Charles closes her mouth to calm herself, the two simple taps the woman places on his bicep fueling Max's sadism. 

The last few drops fall on top of her closed lips, running down heated skin with ease. Flushed skin seems to make the water evaporate, heating it up and leaving Charles hot and bothered before Max. Her eyes, though shut tight, twitch with every momentary touch. 

What a sight Max made of Charles. What a beautiful masterpiece he had created, all for himself to marvel at. This angel, this holy being that’s at Max's mercy is the embodiment of deadly sins. Lust and gluttony and pride and greed, all paint the insides of Max's chest in shades of green and bleeding red. 

Hypnotized, Max stares. 

She is so in love with this woman, so in love that no one could understand her devotion. No other can compare to Charles, no other can even come close to how dear Max holds this woman.

A whimpered whisper of his name breaks him out of his day dreaming. Their eyes focus on Charles’ face, red and blotchy with dried tears, trails of water and saliva going down her chin. She’s splendid, perfect in each and every way imaginable. She’s more than Max deserves, more than what she could’ve asked for. 

In any way, shape and form, Charles is her God, her angel and muse. 

“Max, please.” And despite not knowing what Charles is begging for, what she’s holding onto Max for, he cannot deny her precious love. When she’s pleading and sobbing for Max's touch, she’d have to be mad to ignore such saccharine requests. 

“Yes, my love, I know. You want me to touch you and make you cum. Your greediness never fails to impress me,” she sighs mournfully, putting on an act to rile her pretty girl up even more. “Say, you think you deserve to cum? You really think you’ve been good?”

“Yes!” Charles sobs, digging her fingernails into Max's shoulders. “I’ve been s’ good for you, daddy! Drank everything and-- and held my piss like a good girl.” She’s crying again, choking on her own sobs and spit. It’s a pitiful image, but Max relishes in the loud weeps. 

Charles is just so bewitching when she’s reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess. 

Max hums, deep in thought as she pretends to weigh the limited options she has. They don’t want to tease Charles for much longer, doubts they even can do it without giving themself blue balls, but God, they want to. Briefly, she thinks back to the list of things she’d planned out to do with Charles today and suddenly she doesn’t care about teasing Charles. She’d rather overstimulate her until she’s blabbering nonsense and shaking. 

“Colour?” 

Charles frowns at him, pout tugging at her lips. “Green,” she mumbles, chin tucked into her chest. “Please, daddy. It hurts!”

“Oh?” Max quirks her eyebrow, smirking down at the corrupted little thing. “Where does it hurt, baby girl?”

Her hand flies from Max's shoulder, resting gently above her own bladder, careful as to not press on it. Max can’t have this. Without much care, she moves Charles hand aside, pressing her thumb into the woman’s swollen abdomen. 

Charles’ sobs rip through her body, writhing as she tries to get away from the pressure Max is putting on her. In one swift move, she pulls her lover down, shirt riding up along with the mats. He moves from his place atop Charles’ thighs, momentarily sitting on the mattress while observing her. 

Without the weight on top of her, Charles lifts his head, confused and dazzled. She spots Max quickly, and without much thought she gives Max her best puppy eyes, bottom lip jutted out to effectively pull on Max's heartstrings. 

“Daddy, please come back and touch me,” her girl demands, face smushed into the pillow. “Wanna cum, please.”

Gods, Max will never tire of hearing her beg. 

He doesn’t utter a single sound while maneuvering Charles to sit between her legs. Doesn’t sprinkle any mean comments in when Charles wraps them around Max's waist, ankles crossed behind her back to hold Max close. Even when Charles buries her face deeper into the pillow, Max doesn’t say a word. 

They’re observing, committing every detail unfolding in front of them to memory, tucking away the pictures for later. 

Charles whimpers into the cotton covers, holding back another sob. “Hurts, daddy.”

“Does it?” Max asks. Her fingers itch to touch, to claim what’s hers with dark bruises in the form of Max's palms. “Should I make the pain go away, puppy?” The woman nods minutely. Had Max not been paying attention, he might’ve missed it. “Alright, darling. I’m gonna take your shorts off now, ok?” Another easy to miss nod. “Can you check in with me real fast, angel?”

“You can take them off, daddy. I’m green, j’st really hurts. Wan’ cum but it’s too much.”

As soon as the shorts and soiled panties are off, Max holds Charles’ foot gently, bringing it to his lips. She presses a single kiss in the middle of her sole, making the woman giggle despite the discomfort she is in. It brings a smile on Max's face, hearing her pretty girl laugh like this, all shy and soft. Charles covers her face, hands hiding the beautiful blush Max's put on her cheeks. 

Still, she can’t hide her pretty pussy, bruising red and leaking down her thighs, making for the most unholy view, nor can she conceal the flush on his neck, going under the shirt and coming back on her hips and thighs. Charles blushes beautifully, Max has come to know. Her whole body turns the loveliest shade of red, from the tips of her ears when Max leans in to whisper sweet I love you’s in public, to her thighs, burning red under Max's ministrations. 

It’s truly and absolutely fascinating, to say the least. 

“How do you want this, Charlie? On your back or on your stomach?”

“Back,” Charles answers eagerly. 

Max chuckles darkly, amused by the woman’s enthusiasm to piss all over herself. “Well, pup, go ahead. Wet yourself like the dumb mutt you are.” 

It’s an interesting progression, what happens next. Charles’ eyes shut tight, a deep frown creasing her forehead. She’s silent, panting while she struggles to let go. Under Max's loving gaze, Charles breaks. Frustrated sobs wreck through her, fists balling into the mats. The image is enough to make possessiveness spark underneath Max's skin, igniting their desires to keep these moments safe and away from anyone else. To keep Charles to themself. 

“Max, I can’t.” 

In a way, Max understands her pain and frustrations. She can imagine how hard it must be to let go, how humiliating the idea of pissing herself must be for Charles. Worry seeps into her bones again. 

“What can’t you do, angel?”

“I can’t--” Charles cuts herself off with a loud mewl. “Can’t go, daddy!”

“Can’t?” The fingers rubbing soothing circles on Charles' ankle ghost over her leg, moving to her hip, touch cold and brief, before stopping on the woman’s abdomen. “Or won’t?” The press is just a brief, a green ticket for Charles to call it quits in case she changes her mind. 

She doesn’t. 

“Can’t, daddy! It’s too ‘mbarrassing,” she mumbles into her hands, hiding behind them as a form of faux-comfort. “Help, Maxie…” The hushed and broken tone makes Max blink at his lover. 

Realization floods him. “Oh, you’re such a naughty thing, love,” he says with a laugh. Her previous gentleness is gone, thumb pressing roughly into Charles bladder, making the woman squirm in discomfort and pain. “Needing me to make you piss,” Max tuts, shaking her head at the crying beauty laid before her. “Naughty, messy little one. You never fail to impress me.”

Back arching off the mattress, Charles thrusts her hips in the air, oh so close to Max, yet so far away. She humps the air, ivory teeth biting the back of her hand, canines digging into tanned skin without an ounce of self-control. And yet, she’s still not letting go. 

It’s a wonder, how she’s managed to keep it in for so long, despite Max's continuous teasing. It makes Max just that more hungry, craving to see Charles come apart at his hand. 

“Daddy--” Charles stutters, the frown on her face only deepening with each second in which Max tortures her slowly. “Can’t do it, Maxie. Need your hand on my clit, daddy! Hurts too much!” She sounds so completely and utterly broken, so distressed and in this moment, Max swears she’s never been more in love with the sounds someone makes, let alone with the person letting them out. 

“Since you’ve asked so nicely,” she agrees without a fuss, right hand moving between Charles’ thighs, finger pressing into her swollen clit, squeezing it harshly to draw out more needy noises from Charles. 

“Thank you, thank--” Charles whines loudly, teeth pulling at her fingers, bitemarks imprinted on them. Desperate sounds bleeding into the room plague Max's mind. “I’m gonna--”

But Charles doesn’t get to finish her warning. With Max's hand moving faster and faster over Charles’ clit, she finally comes undone. Her whole body goes rigid, before relaxing into the sheets as a hot stream of piss leaks down her thighs, soaking the sheets, the mats, Max’s sweatpants, everything. 

Max didn’t know what to expect when he was planning this. Piss, surely; a mess, of course. But she didn’t expect for it to be so… enticing. The idea of Charles pissing herself did fascinate her, but she never thought it will be this hot. Watching Charles break turns her on more than she’d like to admit; it’s maddening, intoxicating. 

The stream doesn’t seem to be ending, liquid glistening atop Charles skin, seeping into his shirt, the mats absorbing as much as they can. Max is surprised that not much gets on his own clothes, only his knees wet with how he’s standing on the bed, the shirt he’s wearing remaining dry, safe for the edges pooling around his waist. 

She’s impossibly hard in her sweats and the sinfully erotic image of Charles panting, eyes shut tight, pussy spasming and leaking, piss drenching her clothes and the bed she’s resting on… It takes everything out of her to not devour the woman, but despite her best efforts she can’t stop her fingers from twitching with need, moving from Charles abdomen down her thigh, squeezing the fat with brute force. 

“Charles,” Max breathes out, voice strained. “Can I fuck your thighs?”

Charles legs tighten around her waist, hands gripping at Max's forearms. They’re bound to be bruised the next day, but neither care. Max loves being marked and purple just as much as she adores putting them across Charles' perfect body. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Charles chants, head thrown back in pure bliss. “Please touch me, daddy. Wanna cum now, daddy.”

Laughing to herself, Max reaches into their bedside table for the lube, fingers still massaging and squeezing at Charles thighs. “What, pissing yourself wasn’t enough to make you cum?” There’s no time to wait for the woman’s response. Max needs to cum just as badly as her sweet girl. 

The pretty blush spreading across Charles' body stops them for just a moment. A moment they uses to gawk at Charles, put some more images away in their head for later. She’s gorgeous. Thoroughly and unconditionally so. 

And Max, Max whose heart beats faster each time she steals a glance at her beautiful girl, Max whose stomach fills with butterflies and whose organs are wrapped in flowers and crystals and vines so thick they're making it hard to breathe, Max who cannot do anything but fall deeper in love with Charles, falls. She falls again and again, until she’s bruised and her knees are bleeding, yet she cannot stop. She wants this perfect woman, her perfect girl forever. Wants to fall for her more and more as their bones grow weak and the soil reclaims what belongs to it. 

The lube is cold when it hits Charles’ thighs, if the hiss she lets out is any form of indication of it. Not even the hotness that Charles emanates is enough to warm it up while Max sheds her sweatpants, cock springing free. He’s redder than Charles, untouched and begging to be buried in between Charles thighs. They’re both silent as Max guides Charles to squeeze her legs together, feet thrown over Max's shoulder to make it easier for her. 

Soft moans fill the room, Charles saccharine noises coating Max's dazed mind with a thick fog. Charles is a fuel, a fuel for unprompted decisions leading to handprints bruised on a tanned neck and fingerprints atop wide hips. Charles burns her, her touch burns deep into Max's skin, melting hardened walls with ease. It feels like she's boiling alive, underneath her skin. 

All because of Charles. 

His cock aches as he pushes its head past Charles' thighs. The press is astonishingly tight, so much so that Max feels the air being knocked from her lungs the more she pushes. God, she loves Charles’ thighs; she cannot get enough of feeling them around her, squeezing her, pulling her cock farther in. They want them wrapped around their head, their waist, their cock. Everywhere. 

“Angel,” Max moans, grip on Charles hips more secure with each shallow thrust. “You feel so good around me, angel. Your thighs were made to be fucked.” As an answer, Charles whimpers, biting on her bottom lip to keep the loudest noises away. “Made entirely for me to use, isn’t that right--” Max prides herself for the amount of self-restraint she has, but once she’s touching Charles, it all dissipates. 

“Yours, daddy. Only belong to you,” the woman agrees mindlessly. 

The drag across hot skin is rough, even with the amounts of lube and piss still on Charles legs. It’s mind numbing, uncomfortable enough to make Max hiss in pleasure as he increases the speed minutely. 

Charles' eyes are glued to her own legs, watching Max's cock poke out between them hungrily. If Max didn’t know any better she’d even say she’s salivating, mouth slightly open, tongue sticking out. But she’s not, because in moments like this, when Charles gets so focused on something that she doesn’t even blink, it’s almost like all her bodily functions shut down. All but her ability to stare and burn each detail into her retina. 

“You like watching your thighs swallow me whole, baby girl?" Max asks with a soft chuckle. “You have no idea how good you feel, love,” his words get stuck in his throat, another frail whine escaping Max. 

“Want you to touch me, daddy,” Charles whispers into thick air. It takes Max a moment to realize she’s spoken and then another one to take in what Charles said, but once she does her hand immediately moves to rest against Charles' clit. 

He doesn’t move it yet, waiting for Charles to break once again and beg for Max to make her cum. The thrusts don’t slow down, each one pulling Max closer to the edge. Volatile reds bloom across Charles' body, tainting Max's pale skin in its progress. She’d rather have the woman’s teeth stain her ruby and violet instead, but this will do. 

The sight of her beautiful lover alone can make Max cum. Seeing her so transfixed on the part where her cock peeks out, eyes glazed with want and lust only adds to the carnal effect she has on Max. 

Max is close, thrusts coming to a halt every time her navel touches the back of Charles’ thighs. He’s close and Charles is surprisingly quiet, yet just as spellbound. Without hrt own accord, Max's fingers rub over the woman’s clit, drawing out a series of rich whines and sobs, each more delicious than the other. 

She swallows them all with a hungry, starved kiss. 

In a flurry of chasing their own orgasm, Max's hand begins moving faster over Charles, sweet noises escaping the woman with each thrust and every press. The position is uncomfortable, Max's neck hurting as she leans down to press kisses on Charles face. She doubts the way Charles is folded is any better, but her lover’s only complaints are about needing to cum faster and harder. 

“Max, Maxie--” Charles chokes on her own spit. “Can I cum? Please, let me, daddy!” She’s sobbing again, beautifully so. Face red, with streaks of tears upon streaks of tears, saliva dripping down the corners of her mouth. 

Max almost doesn’t manage to give her permission, voice dying in her throat before she can get the words out on the first try. Their movements get that more clumsy with every pull back, the hand on Charles’ pussy stopping its strokes for a brief moment.  “Yes, sweetheart,” she says after her hips still enough for Max to recompose herself. 

That is all Charles needs. The granted permission, the grazing kissing Max continues to press all over her face, the hand that resumes its fast paced stroking. All of them tilt Charles over and with a single, loud keen, she cums all over Max's hand. 

Max isn't far behind. The woman brings her legs closer, impossibly tight, wishing to have Max's cum mix with hers. Max can barely breathe, air coming out in short puffs as he struggles to keep himself above Charles, lest he wants to collapse on top of his lovely girl. 

Charles' thighs are Heavenly around him. 

"Maxie," Charles moans, a quiet sob coming out of her. "Cum for me." 

With a whimper, Max goes still, spilling all over Charles' perfect thighs. The room is silent, safe for their heavy breathing and occasional whine Charles lets out. 

Blissful afterglow seeps into Charles' features, red bleeding out and leaving only coral pink behind. She's breathtaking, basking in her own orgasm, eyes closed and head tilted back. She's breathtaking, thighs still shaking around Max, hands letting go, without meaning to, of Max's arms.

Max's hand pulls away, moving up towards the woman’s mouth. The cum is already drying on her fingers, but that doesn't stop her from pushing two of them past Charles lips, watching with so much love as she sucks them into her mouth without a single complaint. 

God, Max just keeps on falling. 

"You're so pretty, Charlie. Been so good for me today," Max's tone is quieter, scared of breaking the moment they've created. Charles stays silent, only smiling up at her lover, completely blissed out with the fingers slowly pushing in and out of her mouth, resting on the brunette’s tongue every now and again. 

“Thanks, mate,” she whispers around Max's fingers. 

Max stops altogether, a stunned expression on his face. “Did you… just call me mate after I made you piss yourself and fucked your thighs?”

The smile Charles offers him is so stupidly endearing that Max can’t even find it in her to be upset by the absurdity of it all. 

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s get you in the shower. You reek of piss and I’m too tired to do anything else tonight,” Max says with a soft laugh. Her fingers leave Charles mouth, and though the whine the woman gives her does tug at her heartstrings, Max doesn’t give in. Charles can always fall asleep sucking on their fingers if she really does want that, but right now they’d rather take a long, hot shower and not think about the smell seeping into their mattress. 

“You have to carry me, though,” Charles informs him, matter of factly. 

Max scoffs, but nonetheless she stands and picks the woman up, throwing her over her shoulder. “I always carry you, idiot.”

“Yes, because it turns you on that you can manhandle me,” Charles scoffs back. “I’ll blow you in the morning if you wash my hair.”

Max sighs. “Fine,” she agrees, not bothering to tell Charles that she would’ve taken care of that without the promise of a blowjob. Charles doesn’t need her ego inflated any more than it already is. “It better be the best blowjob of my life, though.”

“Oh, you’ll love it, mon chou,” Charles laughs. 

Max doesn’t doubt it, but it’s nice to play the role sometimes. 

After all, Charles still hasn’t caught up on the fact that Max is so in love with her she’d give up everything to make her happy.

[genderqueerdykes]

Not to bombard you with trauma dumping, but I honestly hate this bullshit man hating stuff when it comes to "feeling safe" around cis women/afab folks/etc. I lived with a roommate for about 3 years that I specifically moved in with bc we were both afab. 2 years into living with each other, they started assaulting me when I'd get high to escape the problems that I was having being abused in other ways by them.

Just because someone is "afab/woman-aligned" or w/e they identify as, doesn't make you suddenly safe. And literally I used to parrot that shit. Again, moved in with them thinking that was the "safe" option, and that has been the assault that has stuck with me the longest and ruined my emotional well-being.

Genuinely, I just wish people would remember that ANYONE is capable of hurting you. Anyone is capable of abusing you, if they have the ability to do so. No single gender, identity, or any other characteristic is "the bad guy". Anyone can just decide that they wanna have control over you and decide to hurt you. This is still a subject that I can't even address in therapy because it really fucked me up.

Anyways I hope my story can help people see reason, bc hating anyone who identifies as a man just because you think they're the only ones capable of hurting you is bullshit.

i'm so sorry you had to go through that. there was no reason for that person to treat you that way. but i wanted to thank you for sharing your story because i quite literally think this is a huge part of the reason why rad fems love to spread this lie.

when rad fems spread the lie that AFAB people, women and people perceived to be cannot hurt and abuse other people, it's because they want to get out of being held accountable for being abusive. this "afab people and women are safer to be around" shit is specifically so that rad fems and people who think like them can take advantage of afab people and women and not have to face any repercussions for it whatsoever.

it's not being done with good intentions. at all. it's not because afab people, women and people perceived to be women are genuinely safer to be around. it's because people who behave this way want to get away with abusing whoever they can, and it just so happens to be easiest to do it to afab people and women thanks to the narrative they've created.

this line of thinking isn't being spread because it's true.

it's being spread because it helps rad fems and people who think like them control people. they're doing it to keep afab people, women and people who are perceived to be women weak and miserable and never fight back against abuse, especially when it comes from other afab people, women, and people perceived to be women. it's not coming from a place of trying to keep anyone safe.

i hope things improve for you soon, i know that's an absolute nightmare to go through. take care of yourself, if you need any help, feel free to return at any point

[rcmclachlan]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

Tagged by the wonderful @liminalmemories21

How it works: Share your top 10 tumblr posts from last year! Visit this site, scroll down to "Find your Tumblr Top 10," type in your username, and select 2024. When you get the results, simply click "Share to Tumblr" and you'll get an auto-generated draft for a post with links and previews. Make any adjustments you see fit.

Surprising no one, all my top posts in 2024 were about BuckTommy. Here’s the breakdown:

1. Tommy’s just as insane as Buck (1,184 notes - Aug 15 2024)

This is probably my favorite post of the year, so I’m glad it’s sitting pretty at number one. Even after what we’ve learned about Tommy since I posted it, I still stand by it. There is no way Mr. Sure I’ll Fly Into A Hurricane On A Hunch is normal about anything.

2. Amnion (mpreg, 8x06 fix-it) (777 notes - Nov 9 2024)

This predated the mpreg tsunami that hit the fandom by about a week, but if you’ve been following me since April, you’ll know that dadvans and I had been surfing that wave all along. 

3. Season 4 alternate meeting (726 notes - Aug 10 2024)

I’ve got a list as long as my arm of ways Buck and Tommy could’ve met earlier, but the idea of “what if their paths crossed the day Buck learns about Daniel” grabbed onto my ankle like a mutant west highland white terrier and wouldn’t let go. 

It eventually became the fic Histocompatibility on AO3.

4. 8x05 spec fic ("Kiss me, Thomas!”) (704 notes - Oct 23 2024)

I wrote this after the first pictures of Buck’s face dropped a couple of days before the episode aired. At the time, we could only see one boil (I think the most popular theory was that a spider had laid eggs in his face, a la Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark), so I decided to have a little fun. 

Apologies to the people who were scarred for life after learning what a giant weta is. 

5. The 118-217 Shadow Summit headcanon (665 notes - Dec 29 2024)

A very late addition to the list! There I was with all these headcanons, still mourning the breakup and wishing the show had given us some cross-station shenanigans, when I realized I could solve all my problems with fic. Why would I try to get Buck and Tommy back together when the yahoos at the 118 and 217 could do it for me?

Then I took it a step further with this missing scene, which I had an absolute blast writing. These people are bonkers (to me).

6. “So? Tell me about the hot pilot.” (652 notes - Sep 13 2024)

I can never get enough of the Buckley siblings, and since the show finally gave us something substantial with 7x05, I decided to delve a little deeper into Buck and Maddie’s conversation about Buck’s bisexuality and the man responsible for opening his eyes to it. 

It eventually became the fic Table of Contents on AO3.

7. New Year’s Eve fix-it ficlet (651 notes - Jan 1 2025)

Okay, technically it shouldn’t be on the list because I posted it in the new year, but I wrote it a couple of hours before midnight while watching Wicked with friends, so I’m including it. It was a half-baked idea that became a half-baked fic, but it seemed like people enjoyed it, so I’m taking that energy into the new year!

8. More 8x05 spec fic (missing scene) (589 notes - Oct 24 2024)

Another fic that was born out of the episode previews, which allowed me to bring my 217 OCs out to play. All I kept thinking was, ‘What was going through these people’s heads when they heard dispatch say a body had been found at the 118? Probably something along the lines of: must be Tuesday.’ 

9. Pregnancy kink ficlet/headcanon (526 notes - Aug 29 2024)

No explanation necessary. 

10. Relative Value (499 notes - Jun 26 2024)

“Give me Uncle Tommy or give me death” has been my mantra since Tommy and Buck made out in front of God, country, and the entire First Presbyterian ER lobby. Also, it’s a headcanon of mine that all the 118 kids are obsessed with him, much to Tommy’s confusion and amusement. 

It eventually became Relative Value on AO3.

Well, this was a fun little retrospective! I can’t believe this dumb show pushed me out of writer’s block limbo as hard as it did, but I’m very grateful. 

Tagging: @dadvans, @screamlet, @epiphainie, @leashybebes, and @beanarie​​

[mullermilkshake]

My own little spin on something I hold very close to my heart, I hope this is a lil something you're looking for!! <3 @your-boba-tea

Phantom theOpera!SatoruGojo x Fem!reader

Feat. Suguru Geto, Masamichi Yaga, mentions Ino, Maki, Miwa.

Tags -> Yandere!, mentions and implies hanging, stalking, violence, obsession, dark, mentions of death, manipulation, physical harm

“Alright people, that's a wrap for now, go take a break!”

You slouched and groaned, the heat of the stage lights practically melting your makeup from your cheeks all the while still hung in Suguru’s arms as your cue dictated.

“This corset is really starting to kill my hips, I don’t know if I can keep this going until the end tonight.” You pulled away from him and waved the director off, adjusting yourself and slipping off the little shoes so that your feet were now bare.

“You’ll do fine,’ Suguru said, sliding off his own jacket and folding it neatly over his arm. “You were made for this part and after you do this show tonight, you’ll breeze past the others.”

It wasn’t the first time you had taken to the stage alongside Suguru Geto and it sure wasn’t the last either. Being veteran’s on stage sure helped create chemistry like no other, in fact you had not met someone like Suguru who made everything so effortless. So exhilarating.

You started your walk off stage, raising your arms and stretching your back out as much as the corset would allow. “Yeah… I just wish Miwa would sew in more flexible fabric, I feel so stiff.”

"Given the time period, it’s incredibly accurate.”

A scoff fell past your lips, “I don’t know how people sang opera in these, I can barely breathe.”

“Yet you have the voice of an angel.”

“You flatter me too much, Suguru. Some people might think you have a thing for me.” You paused and eyed him closely and he stopped just as you did just shy of the gathered stage curtain.

As though on cue, Suguru and yourself cringed at the mere thought of a relationship. Suguru shook his head, “Don’t give me nightmares, I won’t sleep otherwise.”

The absurdity of it made you chuckle. “Come on, you love me really, right?”

Being as close as you were, the pair of you were often met with speculation and assumptions to what your relationship really was. The two of you often shared a dressing room for the hell of it which usually led others to think the worst in your eyes, though you didn’t care.

Suguru had seen you naked more times than you cared to think. Kissing on stage came as naturally as taking a breath. But he just wasn’t your type. And you weren’t his.

He shook his head and playfully shoved you with his shoulder as he led you down to the dressing room. “I wouldn’t go that far, you whine a lot and it makes my head hurt.”

“Pfft! We all know you’re the biggest diva here and you should have taken the role of Carlotta. Such a primadonna.”

Suguru had a complaint about anything and everything, often stalling his cue because his hair just wasn’t right. Poor Maki’s body language brought her close to blowing a fuse huffing in front of him to put that strand of hair back in place.

“I was sure Maki was going to throw that blow dryer at your head the way she was cursing to herself.” Shaking your head disapprovingly, you wandered towards the little set of stairs to the dressing rooms.

“Thirty minutes you two, don’t be late and miss your cue this time.”

“Yes Masamichi.” Why the man was even saying your name was a mystery, you were on stage perfectly on time during every rehearsal.

Suguru matched your pace and leant over so his mouth was as close to your ear as he could. “He said your name because you’re insufferable.”

“How am I?” One step at a time, you stomped down them with a huff. “At least I’m on time.”

“You left to get take out and ended up twenty minutes late-”

“That was one time, Suguru. I thought we’d dropped that already?” You stretched again and opened the door to your dressing room, he followed you inside.

A chill ran down your spine and spurred on goosebumps down your bare arms. “Man, this dressing room always gives me the creeps, I always feel like I’m being watched. I really ought to ask Masamichi for a new one.”

“Like he’d actually allow it this close to the opening of the show. You’ll be fine, just don’t think about it.”

You sat down and faced away from the weird looking doorway which had long been wallpapered over, but the paper lining always seemed to deteriorate quickly no matter how much paper covered it. By now, there were countless theatre posters and programmes from previous endeavours stuck along the door line to hide it.

“That’s easier said than done. It’s like I'm being leered at all the time by some weirdo.” You stared back at the sealed door and tried to cast it from the back of your mind.

“Maybe it’s the ghost-”

“Don’t joke about that stuff, Suguru!”

“What?” He dodged your poorly thrown pillow and did his worst to hide his laughter. “There is a ghost here… some might even say a phantom-”

“I said stop it! You aren’t funny. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Suguru shrugged, flopping down on the little seat next to you in the corner and pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the dressing room door. “Do you remember the time that Masamichi called in sick and Gakuganji took over in his place for that week?”

You nodded with reluctance and Suguru continued his story. “He told me that there was a shadow of a man as tall as me running about the place up in the rafters with a scar running from his forehead, down to his chin. A phantom… And he just so happens to attach himself to one person in particular, wanting to give them tips and advice on how to improve their skill." He wiggled his fingers to enhance the creepiness. "I mean, who keeps giving you roses after each performance?”

“That’s you giving me roses every time, don’t act smart, asshole. And, now you’re just reeling off the plot for the performance tonight. You aren’t fooling me, Suguru Geto. I’m having a hard enough job trying to nail these notes, opera isn’t my strongest suit and I don’t need you putting childish stories into my head, you’re such a dick.” 

“And…” He paused dramatically. “I heard this ghost was even responsible for that death last year, you remember what happened to Ino?”

You shook your head and frowned at him. “That was an accident and you know it. The ropes got all tangled, it can happen.”

“Can it? Did you ever stop and really think about it?”

“Stop, you’re creeping me out.”

Suguru sat closer and wrapped his arm around you for comfort, pulling you in and resting his head on yours. “I’m sorry, I’m only kidding. But who knows, maybe the ghost will show up in the performance tonight? Will you really be kissing Nanami as the Phantom? Or will it be the ghost- boo!”

You flinched at Suguru’s fingers moving to poke you through the uncomfortable corset. “Suguru you fucker!”

This time, the pillow did not miss.

He laughed again and climbed up from the chair to avoid the barrage of pillow swings.  “I’m kidding- I’m kidding!”

“You better be!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, you scaredy cat.”

“I’m not dramatic, don’t be a shit stirrer!” Folding your arms angrily you got to your feet too.

His cheeky grin made your anger fester and he must have noted that because his expression fell just a little. “Wait here and I’ll get us a drink, you want some chocolate?”

“Of course. I do.” You poked your tongue out at him and watched him turn to leave.

“Anything for the lead star.”

“Ugh!” It was a little growl that left your throat once you were left on your own in silence. “He’s the insufferable one!”

Suguru Geto always pulled stunts like this. A main reason why he would never ever be your type of man to sweep you off your feet and cast in his arms towards the sunset. You wanted a man who cared for you and stopped others from putting you down whilst you lived your dream on stage.

The one thing you always wanted since you were a child.

And now you were doing just that.

Clearing your throat, you practiced some warm up and trilled your lips to loosen them and shivered. Turning to face the rest of the room, you froze on the spot and not because of the drop in temperature, but because the sealed door adorned with paper was now open.

It happened so…

You had no words. It just opened and you were none the wiser. 

“Suguru?” You called to no one, the whistled draft filtering out of the long tunnel as though calling you to enter it.

“Suguru, this isn’t funny.”

Still, there was nothing.

You took one step at a time, creeping towards the threshold to hold onto the flapping papers taped to the door. “If this is a joke, it’s not a funny one.”

No one responded.

I didn’t even know there was a tunnel behind this door.

Leaning past the threshold, your feet remained stuck where they were in the safe confines of the dressing room. The closer you got, the more the whistling air sounded like words.

You gasped and tripped, falling back right onto the floor. The wind had spoken your name. “Who’s there?”

The ghost- you shook your head as hard as you could to push the words Suguru tempted you with from your head. Stories like that could not come true, just pure fiction and it startled you over a bit of wind.

Suguru would not let you live this down.

There came that sensation of being leered at, right down the end of that tunnel. It set every single alarm bell off in your gut, yet it did nothing to stop you from getting up and taking another look.

“Show yourself!”

Movement from the end of the tunnel took your breath away but it did not cast you away. You remained where you were and waited for another bump of movement. All that came was your name again.

Had time slowed down? You finally stepped over the threshold and planted your barefoot on the scratchy cement, little rocks and dust collecting on the soles of your feet yet you didn’t care.

Even blinking took effort, though walking towards the sound became effortless as if it was coaxing you towards it, begging you to just take one more step.

Just one more step.

And another.

One more.

A second had passed you thought, yet you were at the end of the hallway looking back towards the dressing room, noting how the door seemed to close on its own. You did not pay too much attention until you were off again.

“I should… go back.”

Should you? Was it a good idea, or a bad one? You weren’t even sure where you were anymore, but you did not care.

Suguru will be looking for me… when was my cue again?

Blinking became difficult, breathing laboured enough to make you light headed and unable to realise at first that you had finally stopped walking. You were left stranded in silence with only the breathing of the room as though it were a rickety old rib cage expanding and retracting and struggling to keep its shape.

“I should…”

You noticed the music immediately and it sort of brought you out of your thoughts for a brief period of time. Music you had never heard before. Beautiful music. Stunningly played and well written wit a dark drawl in its notes with a hint of sadness like an aftertaste.

Stepping into the room and down the three little steps, a corner of the room came into focus that hadn’t been there initially. Someone was playing on a grand piano that could have been taken from the orchestra pit upstairs, in fact the person playing such beautiful music could have been someone from the orchestra pit.

No. That was an insult to the player, for they were far beyond the orchestra’s limits. Whoever it was, played the notes in such a way that it made your eyes weep and dampen your cheeks.

“You..” What could you say to this mysterious stranger?

“So you finally made it then?” He said, his arms moving so delicately along the keys they almost never touched.

“Uh… I don’t-”

“Come over here.” He did not turn to you, he just kept playing.

And like that, your feet were taking you over there straight to the mystery man who bore no aggression to you for infiltrating his… home? He never showed care it seemed, not until you stopped right beside him and observed him play.

The music stopped abruptly, his breathing lulled you into a sense of security when he stood where the height difference mattered. “Welcome home.”

Home? You were not home… Wait, where were you?

This stranger smiled at you like you were familiar. Like how Suguru would treat you. This man was nothing like Suguru, white hair fairer than snow, perfectly brushed back and flat as though he was ready to take the stage on Masamichi’s cue.

You might have even called him handsome had you gotten a good look at him in the low lit room of flickering candles. Half of his face had been hidden by a face covering. 

Just like the Phantom of the Opera…

“Who.. who are you?” You hadn’t pulled yourself from this trance you were in, but you were trying.

Was this who had been giving you the creeps from that dressing room this whole time?

“You don’t remember?” A flicker of annoyance moved past his face. His eye twitched a little whilst he studied your face.

“I don’t.” Shaking your head made the room spin. “I...I can’t remember you. I’m sorry.”

Now that the music had ended, you were certain that it was making you drowsy, so you intended to go back to your dressing room. He caught you as you turned to leave back the way you came, digging his nails into your arm and that seemed to wake you up.

“Ouch! Please don’t do that, I want to go.”

“I do so much for you and you repay me by doing this?” He almost growled, it stuck in his throat to threaten you.

“I really don’t know who you are, please let me go.” Tugging away from him only moved you. He stayed as he stood and glared at you like you had done something so unforgivable.

“Y’know, I waited. I bided my time until that weak little man left your dressing room for once to finally speak to you and you do this? You rub him in my face across the whole theatre like you know what you’re doing. Seeing that man kiss you makes my stomach churn and twist like it’s on fire- how could you do this?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about, I’m just a performer, it’s my job!”

“You’re so much more than that and you don’t even see it. I’m stuck down here, you’re a world apart and you are squandering it.” His tone was so calm, his grip never loosened. “He is stopping you from reaching your full potential.”

He, as in Suguru? You were fully aware of your situation and the room had twisted and morphed into something dilapidated and dusty. Forgotten. The pristine and perfect vision of music was shattered like glass.

“Please… Please let me go.” 

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

Reluctantly you shook your head and awaited his next emotional change, yet it never came. “This won’t do. You have a show tonight and I never miss your performances. I can’t keep you here, but if I let you go I’ll be forced to apprehend you if you try and leave.”

His expression was conflicted, his fingers around your arm never eased off and matched his wooden glare across the makeshift room. “You’ll do your part and I’ll come and get you after, no one will interfere, not if they don’t want another accident like last year.”

You couldn’t breathe, the air had gone from the room. ‘I heard this ghost was even responsible for that death last year, you remember what happened to Ino?’

“You can’t be the- Look, I don’t want any trouble, I just want to go back and play my role so I can go home!”

“And who do you think got you that starring role?” He yanked you back, closing the gap so that half of his exposed face was almost flush with your own. “I put your file on top of the pile when no one was looking. I got you that dressing room so we could be close to each other and I put those roses in your dressing room after every performance and you never noticed… I only want you to do your best.”

If the horrid pause in the room weighed any more, it would have crushed you. “I love you. I always have.”

Love? You didn’t even know the man.

“I’ll teach you, guide you and protect you so that you can be the best. But you have to trust me.”

That was the thing. You didn’t trust this man as far as you could throw him and he’d just admitted to stalking you and murdering someone.

It was paramount that you approached this with caution. “Okay… I’ll go now so I can get better for the show tonight.”

Fuck the show. I’m leaving and never coming back.

“You liar.” He said, his voice so low it was practically non-existent.

“What? No, no I promise!”

“Shit!" His breathing became ragged, his eye wider than before. "I have no choice... then you aren’t leaving until I can trust you.” He tugged your arm and pulled you towards the door you came through, kicking it shut and locking it tight right before your eyes. “You’ll just leave me like the others did, but I won’t be broken again.”

Others?

“I won’t, I’ll come straight back- please I promise I won’t do anything bad!” You struggled and pushed against him, never really noticing where your hands were moving.

You pulled the covering from his face and gasped at the long forehead to chin scar down his face, just like Suguru had said.

The Phantom was real?

The Phantom was real.

The Phantom was real and stood right in front of you, threatening your freedom with one tight grasp and an expression of hurt and betrayal laced in his eyes. Would you ever get past that locked door?

You missed your cue, again.

Cross posted on my AO3

Okay but HEAR ME OUT YALL

Gojo as phantom of the opera??? I’m screaming.

I WILL PAY FOR SOMEONE TO WRITE OR DRAW THIS IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES

[merrycrisis-if]

I didn't realize up until 3 days ago that you had updated Merry Crisis. I played the demo very late at night and I felt such a strong feeling of melancholy and longing when reading the scenes between MC and their family members. The messy drama with the aunts and the uncles... The endless boredom shared between all older cousins... The bittersweet memories when remembering departed grandparents... The sibling rivalry when playing any type of games... "Don't forget the taste of your mother's soup". God. I might have shed a tear or two. More than the romances (who are actually great, don't get me wrong), I fell in love with the way you write about the MC's family and culture. There are many things about them I could never truly understand ; I'm not Singaporean, nor Chinese, or even American, and I never lived in either of the places the MC spent most of their life. Culturally speaking, we have nothing in common. But there were so many moments where I saw parts of myself reflected in that young adult struggling with conflicting aspects of their identity, especially when it comes to feeling torn between different places, feeling like a stranger no matter where you are, and being queer while fearing coming out to your parents. What struck me the hardest was when the MC thought their grandmother would have gotten along with Nat, even though they don't know how she would have reacted to their partner being the same gender as them... So, thank you for that. Anyways, this isn't really why I'm sending you this ask. There were heavy rain falls where I live yesterday night, and a part of my basement got flooded. I had to throw a lot of things away, including many childhood drawings and family pictures. Some of my dad's old stuff got pretty soaked as well, but his vintage ViewMaster 3D collection miraculously didn't suffer too much damage. I was drying them up as best as I could, before coming to a stop. There were a few slides of Singapore lost among the countless others of European and American cities, dating back from 1957. It reminded me of you, probably because your story was still so fresh on my mind, and I thought I'd share a few of my favorites with you. I'm sorry for the horrible quality, though. They are pretty old and my phone doesn't take very good pictures.

Thank you for your stories. Happy holidays to you and your loved ones, I wish you all the best.

This message struck me really deeply, so thank you so much for sharing this with me. It makes me so incredibly moved when merry crisis reaches across time and space and ends up resonating with someone from a completely different culture/place -- makes me think about just how many experiences are shared in the most unlikely ways.

I'm sorry to hear the flooding but wow it sounds like you uncovered a lot of real gems. Thank you so much for sharing them with me! The one in the top left made me think about my grandma who says back in the day, my old house used to overlook the sea (kinda like those shophouses in the picture) -- until Singapore reclaimed land and pushed the coast much further south. And the other one, in the bottom left of Haw Par Villa reminds me of the time I went to there with my family (this is a little creepy Chinese place with scary statues and an awesome exhibit of the "ten courts of hell") and there was one statue of what happens when you talk back to your older siblings and my younger brother and I had a good laugh over that (you get boiled alive in lava or something equally horrifying).

Anyway, your message was so special to me. Receiving things like this make me so motivated to write!!

Happy holidays to you too!! <3

[scarredlove]

O-Oh... I forgot about this sketch...

Sleuth Jesters - @naffeclipse Detective AU - @sunnys-aesthetic

[fablexdreams]

One of my favorite headcanons that I have is that Reaver was a momma's boy before what happened with Oakvale...happened, lmfaoo. I've had it for so long, I genuinely don't know where exactly it came from or how it started, but if it's like any of my other headcanons then it's just purely based on the vibe he gives off, but like I said, it's one of my favorites lmao. I just love the thought of a little Reaver worshipping the ground his mom walks on, it's sweet...and really sad, when you consider what was probably her fate. I also headcanon his dad was a deadbeat...no particular reason for that one, I just like my characters to suffer, y'know? Reaver having an easy life was just simply never in the cards for me, I fear, loves-

[luckyartdrawer]

YOU ALL CHOSE:

A fully rendered drawing of a dca AU!

Whew, look at how close some of those options were! Needless to say it seems like y'all want some lovely art to celebrate, so let's get to it!!!

I came up with as many options as I could provide for this poll, so I hope y'all are ready to pick out something! I'll be setting this once again for 3 days, but after the 1st day I'll be seeing what options are leading and prepare ideas and concepts for them ahead of time. (If the votes are a clear landslide I may just start working immediately!)

Explanations for the AUs will be under for any need for clarification! Or if you're just interested in more info that's there too :3

My AUs:

ANE: Is an animatronic reader x Sun & Moon fic that takes place post-virus! The animatronic reader is more like an OC and is a she/they. My first ever fic and one that I still plan to update. Sun is overly trusting with a saviour complex, while Moon is overly suspicious with some sort of an inferiority complex. Very slice of life-ish, with constant worries about being replaced; why can't things just settle down?

Walk In My Mystery: A sortaaa reader x Sun & Moon & Eclipse. The reader is evil and has a double life within a double life and it really is going to trail on - as of rn, they go by feminine pronouns as the Fiancee, and masculine pronouns as the Mob boss. Any relationship that eventually happens is gonna be pretty unhealthy. There's also past relationships that did happen that didn't end well, but I haven't posted those parts yet. The main focus isn't exactly getting in a relationship. They all just want the same person dead. All of them. :)

Take Me Away!: I can't specify who exactly gets shipped with the reader because it would spoil the mystery, but Sun, Moon, and Eclipse all show up here. The gender neutral reader is, let's say supernatural in origin, as they too are part of the mystery in itself. The animatronics are crashlanded in Antarctica after delivering and retrieving goods from an isolated base, now struggling to find some way of rescue while trying not to freeze up their internals.

Everything You Ever Dreamed: A gender neutral dream reader x Moon. Very Moon centric, but Sun does get some limelight, just not with the reader. Moon is tired of his mundane life and minimal time fronting, and while being programmed to put children to sleep, he feels envious of their ability to do so. He's tried and tried for a long time, but suddenly one day he actually dreams, meets the reader, has a taste of what freedom should be, and everything changes. For good and for bad.

Model/Fashion AU: A one-shot gender neutral assistant reader x Sun &/ Moon. I wish I could make more with em but I struggle with both fashion and coming up with a story with stakes for them, so they may be stuck in drabble hell, but I still adore em. Sun and Moon contest over the reader for their time and affections constantly, flirting on the daily, yet somehow none of them are dating. Sun and Moon are clearly making their intentions known, but won't jump the last leap to make it official, wanting the reader to do that so they don't feel like they pressured them into accepting their affections.

Great Comet 1812 Crossover: A simple crossover of the musical The Great Comet of 1812. Sun takes the part of Anatole and Moon takes the role of Pierre. I only drew Sun here, but I still think about these goobers whenever I listen to the songs uaghhh! (Also to those wondering who takes the role of Pierre's wife ahem sorry that's me, and even though that means he hates me and I am playing literal scum, I am married to the bias so LETS GO- /J) Many Sunhinged moments due to Anatole being so messed up :3

Subway Master Crossover: This one I parade around a lot, but it's a crossover of the Subway Masters from Pokemon Black and White, where Sun is Emmet and Moon is Ingo. I goofed around with them a lot during Halloween on my main blog, here's some of my favorite goofs of em, and of course, here's the og drawing. They still have the same pokemon team, I just like parading around Ingo's chandelure and agree with the fandom that Emmet likely breeds Joltiks.

General AUs/AUs I have not done:

These AUs aren't anything I have plans for, but they are things that interest me. Some I even already have designs for in mind! @/divinit3a had the great idea of also merging some AU ideas together, so while I'm leaving the options separate, I may try playing around with that too with the designs of these AUs mwehehe. >:3

Mer: I really want to make Sun a Cookie Cutter shark, but I'm still playing around with the ideas of the other two. It's so enticing to make Moon a squid or Octopus, but I want to explore some other fun options. Eclipse is my wild card, I'm really excited to find something elegant for him. All in all, I want to make them all separate species of mer.

Royal: Eclipse is Sun and Moon sharing a body at the same time. I want to play with the idea of technically multiple rulers, but you never know which one you're going to get. Either you get the best or worst of both worlds, the more logistical one, or the more emotional one. They can change at will too as long as the other allows it, hehe >:)

Fae: I just love Fae AUs. I don't have ideas that haven't already been written by others, but it would be fun to explore some ideas anyway. I'll be looking into different bugs and folklore to base Sun and Moon's designs off of, as well as what their best may be for the background. :3

God: I want to design and write a Eclipse God so much and I only just thought about him while coming up with these general AU ideas. I definitely need to come up with a proper design and some sort of story, but God AUs in general are so interesting and I am begging for the ones that do exist to keep going. They are beautiful life altering sustenance. I seen people make him some sort of Chaos God, but I want to make him something more akin to just Change entirely. Someone who tilts the scales to bring change no matter how good or bad it may be.

Suggestions:

There are plenty of other AU/Crossover ideas out there! I mostly added ones I personally like the most, but I legit love so many that I am more than happy to do others! So don't be shy~ share what you'd like to see!

I do have AUs/Crossovers I have not added to this poll, but if y'all would like to see them please add them to the suggestions!

Do NOT suggest specific AUs made by other people! For example GITM, TSAMS and it's variants, and AUs like LDR or Sleuth Jesters. (No hate! I'm just using these as examples since they're commonly known in the fandom!)

General Ideas are welcome! Pirate AU? Mechanic AU? Post-Fnaf Ruin AU? These all work as good options <3

All in all. I have too many AU and ideas to pick from just by myself, I need the help with deciding :P

Plus, in the end, I want y'all to be happy and have a say in how we celebrate!

Thank y'all for voting and reading all this <3

100 Follower Milestone Poll! 🎉🎉🎉

Heya lovelies!!! This blog hit 100 followers oh my goodness!!!

I really can't believe it, it's so awesome to see you all here! <333 Whether you're new or old around here it doesn't matter, I am electronically hugging and/or patting all of your heads in great thanks! ✨💖✨💖✨💖✨

To celebrate, I have some options in a poll for y'all to choose what you would like to see for this milestone! I HIGHLY suggest reading the explanations of each option below the break! It clarifies some important details. Its down there so any of y'all just scrolling by won't have to worry about a wall of text! <3

Please feel free to vote even if you aren't following me!!!

Poll Options explanations:

Drop early chapters of EYED / Dreamlike: This is a Moon-centric x reader fic I've been working on for several months now and I originally planned to start posting it when I finished it or got really close to doing so. I dropped a sneak peek of it here! I find myself currently on a standstill on it's later chapters, which is why it hasn't been finished yet, but otherwise I am reallllly happy with it's messaging and pacing. (Rn I have plotted out 15 chapters but it's looking like it could be longer with how I write oops-)

The first chapters have been pretty polished at this point, so if people are really curious about this one, I don't mind to start posting the chapters up to a certain point. If this wins, I'll post the first 3 chapters for 3 sequential days, then 4 and 5 will come out in the next week, and then the last week I'll post ch. 6 for no particular reason mhmm yup I am not planning anything nefarious-

Drawing requests: This would be my first time doing something like this, and while I know I can pop out some bangers for y'all I also don't want to dig myself into a hole and leave y'all waiting for a long time. 😅So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests and draw them out! If I feel capable of doing more I may open some more slots for y'all, but I need to test my speed and my capabilities here first. Expect some lovely rendering bc I love it so, but I won't be doing backgrounds (besides simple colors) for the sake of my sanity.

Drabble requests: Most of ya here probably see me as only an artist, but I do write and actually started out as a writer first for this fandom hehe. ✨ I've been doing well recently with short stories so as long as y'all want em, I can hopefully dish em out at a reasonable pace! I, again, haven't done something like this before. So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests, but I feel more confident that I can do this at a reasonable pace, so if things go well I'll open up 5-10 more slots for y'all!

Rendered drawing of a dca AU: Hehe, my forte /J. I've drawn some whacky crossovers, cute sillays, and horror stuff at times, but some of y'all also know I love soooo many AUs in this fandom, hehe! I definitely do not mind drawing AUs, there are MANY I haven't drawn for, but I will be avoiding drawing other's specific AUs. I love making fanart, but this is going to thank y'all for being here, so I would like to keep from using someone else's AU -- it would feel like I'm stealing them e3e.

Plus, this is from me to thank you! And so will the goobers! I'll try to be as detailed as possible with both the characters and location <3

If this wins, I'll set up another poll to last for 3 days. It'll have some general au options like Mer, then I'll list out some crossovers I have done like Submas! Sun/Moon, and I'll add my own AUs! There will also be an option to suggest an AU/crossover! (Please don't be afraid to do so, as long as enough people have an interest in the option, or even if it doesn't win I may still make it if I really like the suggestion! <333)

Rendered drawing of Biblical dca: This means the drawing will be as realistic to the original as I can get it! Gonna do my best to do material rendering and all mwehehe! Though, I may make him extra polished/shiny to not only play with reflections, but to also say how sparkly y'all make me feel hehe ✨✨✨

If this wins, I'll try to finish the drawing within a week or 2 after I make the announcement of the poll's winner! I'll also throw out a really quick poll for 1 day to let y'all pick who will be our biblical goober: Sun, Moon, or Ruin Eclipse!

Something else: This is pretty self explanatory, but if you have ideas, comment below! (You can even if you didn't pick this option!!!) And if you see an idea you like or that you wanted to comment already said below, please reply to that person's comment to keep things easy to track! You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, just drop something simple like ✨ in it and I'll know that means ya voted for it. :) (I'll be checking to make sure people didn't vote on the same comment more than once! But you can vote for multiple ideas <3)

If this wins/has enough interest, I'll choose the most popular suggestion! Depending on what suggestion wins, I may actually do BOTH that suggestion and the winning/2nd place option on the poll!!!! ( Woah 2 for one what :O )

My choice 💥💥💥: I typically don't like making choices actually, but in the case y'all are indecisive I will step up ✨✨✨ If this wins, I'll likely choose whatever sounds best to me in that moment hehehe, you'll never be 100% sure what I'll do >:)

Moon's bald and we love him for it: Oh yeah we do! <3 This is just a joke option to let people who don't want to vote to see the results. If this wins... Uh... We'll go for the 2nd place vote! And also I'll add a bald Moon doodle as a bonus goodie. (I'm so good at making incentives to get people to vote, I know I know ✨✨✨)

Thanks again for all the love guys!!! This fandom has been so good to me and I cannot thank y'all enough for making it as awesome and welcoming as it has been! <333

[xxplastic-cubexx]

i downloaded rivals for magneto and now i don't even play as him bc as i found out i suuuuck at playing tanks

still kinda wanna buy the master of magnetism skin tho... he looks so good...

The less tank players there are the more magneto there is for me !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[hena-of-brightwall]

Heyyy fable fandom <3 just so you know I’m still alive!! And I’ve been fixing up all my sideblogs lately and this one is next ^_^ big return incoming!!!

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms