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the-californicationist · 1 month

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Pas de Deux

For @glitterypirateduck's May 2024 Ghost challenge (item #100)!

I don't write Ghost, but I love Duck too much to pass it up. <3

You invited your brother, Kyle, to come and watch your performance as Odette in Swan Lake. He makes it to the theatre, but he brings his friends. That's when you fall head over heels for Simon Riley.

You’d begged your brother to come to your final performance. You needed him there, needed to feel him in the crowd, even if you couldn’t see him out there. Kyle promised he would be there, and as you went through your pre-show routine, you hoped he would be true to his word.

You knew it was difficult for him to get away from work. You’d left him with four tickets, asking him to invite his mates, if that would make it easier. You remember seeing his soft smile as he fanned out the bright gold tickets, inwardly laughing at you for not understanding the contrast between your world and his as he commented,

“These blokes aren’t really keen on ballets, Duck.”

He’d always called you by that stupid nickname. Well, the longer version had been his favorite as a teenage boy: the Ugly Duckling. But, it was fine. You’d called him Vile instead of Kyle most of his life, so you felt like it was an even score.

“It’s important to me,” you’d insisted.

“I know,” he nodded, conceding, “I’ll try.”

So, as the lights were warming up and you were applying your third layer of powder, praying for a smooth night, your heart stretched itself out, begging not to be broken, the whining strings of the cellos and violins in the pit below your feet made the sounds that your heartstrings were feeling — too quiet, too off-key.

“Hey, babe,” one of your fellow dancers hissed at you from behind the backstage door, “Why didn’t you tell us you had a hot brother with a bunch of hot friends?”

“What?” You asked, confused, shaken out of your mental focus.

Then, over her shoulder, you saw Kyle’s face. He beamed at you, giving you a little wave. You leapt up from the floor where you were stretching, not yet in full costume, wrapping yourself in a warm wool sweater, rushing to greet him.

“You came!” You smiled up at him, wrapping him in a big hug. He hugged you back, full of his immense strength. You stood back to get a better look at him. He was all dressed up, and you couldn’t believe it. Someone behind him cleared their throat, getting your attention.

“Oh, right. Duck, these are my mates,” he pointed them out one by one, “Johnny MacTavish, John Price, and Simon Riley.”

When he pointed to the last one, you felt your breath catch in your throat. It felt as if he was the one who caught it. He was a tower of a man, and his broad, muscular shoulders dwarfed his big friends, making the dancers who were rushing by him back and forth to the stage seem so small. Unlike the other two, his face didn’t light up in a warm smile. His bright eyes simply took you in, drinking you like a long draught, swallowing every piece of you. He studied your makeup, your neck and your shoulders, all the way down your legs, scanning you like he would be given an exam.

“Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for coming, seriously. I’ve been trying to get Kyle to show up for months.”

The stocky man with the beard smiled back at you warmly,

“We love a good ballet, don’t we, lads?”

You didn’t miss the way his elbow jutted out to stab Simon in the ribs, prompting him to speak.

When he did, his voice was quiet, and although he had a thick Manc accent, his tone was controlled, measured, even,

“Aye. Big fans.”

“Oh, well,” you couldn’t stop staring at Simon, so you pinned your eyes to the floor instead, “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Drinks after, yeah?” Kyle said, rubbing your arm supportively.

You nodded, watching them head back to the main auditorium.

A few friends, dancers and stagehands alike, rushed up to you as they left, gushing about how attractive they all were.

“Who was that bloody blond giant? Dressed in all black. He was lookin’ at you like he was hungry.”

“I want the Scot with the mohawk. I’m not takin’ no for an answer, girlie. Oh, my God. Did you see his kilt?”

“Your brother is so damn fit! What the fuck, babes?”

“I liked the scruffy one the best. Bet that beard feels good between —”

“Okay! It’s almost showtime. Let’s circle up,” you escaped from the prop room, scurrying back onto the main stage, trying to get your head back in the game.

You went through your warmups with your dancers, and you let your costumers fit you into your opening dress. You needed to think about your work, but you couldn’t get Simon’s sharp gaze out of your mind. He did, in fact, look hungry, and the way his eyes raked over you made you feel every bit like a hot meal.

As the music began, your mind went blank, blissfully quiet and clear. Your muscle memory took over, and you powered through the motions, enjoying the feeling of your blood rushing through your veins. You trusted yourself to get you through the first act, hitting all of your marks and expecting nothing less than perfection.

It wasn’t until you put on the black mask for Odile’s dance with the prince that you began to lose your concentration. There was a wildness that took over you when you played the black swan, a ferocity that your studio director gushed about to the press and to anyone else who cared to listen.

“She’s like an animal! It’s to die for. You must come and see her on stage. It will change this ballet forever!”

You weren’t sure you appreciated being referred to as an animal, but you had to admit that there was something beastial about your transformation. The mask made you feel like you were a new person. It gave you the ability to become someone else, something else. You were sexual and aggressive, dominant and fearsome. It was just what Odile needed, and you delivered.

Except, when you put the mask on tonight, you caught a glimpse of him from backstage. He was sitting in the box that you had bought for your brother, and one of the spotlights’ films had lit his cheek. It was a soft light, but it was enough. As you took your first steps on stage, you couldn’t help but look up towards him, and the flash of hunger in his eyes was still there. So, you decided to give him your animalistic side.

You’d never danced the way you danced that night. The crowd was roaring, and your costar whispered to you,

“Go off, queen. What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, lying through your teeth.

By the time you left the stage, daring to look back over your shoulder, Simon hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for one moment, and his nostrils flared, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself from your display.

Before you knew it, the curtains closed, and you were bowing, dodging thrown roses and teddy bears, elegantly taking your leave. Your body was dripping sweat, and you rushed over to your bag, scarfing down some power gels and cracking open a nutrition bar, hurrying to bring your body back to normal after its ordeal. You’d be expected to pose for some VIP photos in just a few minutes, so you touched up your makeup, but there was only so much you could do.

“My star!” Your director burst through the back door, “Beautiful! You were incredible tonight. Bring your masks. I have some people who want to meet you.”

You nodded, scooping up your masks and giving your bag to one of the other dancers to take back to the barre room.

You schmoozed for a bit, but something itched at the back of your mind. You felt like you were being watched. Then, just while you were taking a photo with someone’s eager six-year-old, you spotted him. Simon stood behind Kyle, staring at you without shame while the other men laughed and joked with a gaggle of dancers. They had swarmed them, fluttering about, insisting to be invited for drinks, and Kyle was eating it up. You didn’t care, though. There was only one thing you wanted — aside from a hot bath and your comfy bed — and that was to enjoy those things with Simon Riley, if he agreed.

“Excuse me, Madame Savoie. I’m exhausted, and my brother is in town. May I take my leave for the night?”

“Of course!” Your director beamed at you, “After that performance, you can take whatever you want.”

She laughed. Her rich friends laughed. You didn’t, but you managed a smile.

You made your way through the crowd over to Kyle and broke the news,

“Kyle, I’m not going to make it to the pub. I’m beat. I think I’ll just walk home.”

“You can’t walk home by yourself, Duckie. You live in bloody Soho.”

“I’ll be alright. I’ll just —”

“I’ll take her,” that Manc accent oozed its way through the din, and almost everyone turned to look at Simon as he offered his services.

Kyle made a face at you, his arms wrapped around two dancers, one on each side, and he shrugged,

“Alright, Duck. Tomorrow for breakfast, though. No excuses.”

You watched as your brother untangled his right arm from one of your swans, and stuck out his hand for Simon to shake. You saw Simon pause, making clear eye contact with your brother, and extending his wide, pale hand.

You weren’t exactly sure what weird sort of ritual you were witnessing, but it seemed like the two men had an entire conversation in just that short span. Then, Simon’s attention was turned fully back to you.

“C’mon, then. I just need to get my bag.”

He didn’t say anything, but he did hold the door for you, and his huge stature did help part the crowd like some sort of biblical sea, making sure you had easy access to the exits.

The barre room was a bright, white open space, and the wooden floors popped and creaked as you walked across them.

Your impromptu bodyguard followed close behind, but he paused near the door when he was presented with the huge room.

“I’d hate to meet that ballerina,” he chuckled.

You turned around, confused by his comment,

“Which one?”

“The one who hit her head on the ceiling to make them build it this bloody high.”

You looked up to where he was pointing, laughing at his odd joke,

“It’s for the piano,” you explained.

“That’s even scarier,” he grimaced, staring up at the high ceiling as if pianos would start falling from it.

You laughed harder, then, imagining a flying baby grand.

“No! No,” you caught your breath, “The sound. It helps us hear the music.”

“Ahh,” he nodded knowingly, conceding to you, “I see. That makes me feel safer.”

You knelt down and started to pack your back, changing your shoes and slipping out of your outer costume, laying the pieces out like you had been trained to do.

“So, which one do you like better?”

“Hm?” You looked up at him, and he bent his knees to squat down in front of you, plucking your white swan mask out of your bag and touching the fine silk bow with his thumb.

“Which swan?” He asked, his eyes staring at you carefully. You got the sense that your answer really mattered to him.

“Well,” you said carefully, “Every girl wants to be Odette. She’s the star. It’s her story. And she gets to fall in love with a prince. But… once you play Odile, I think you realize that there’s… well, there’s something to be said for falling in love with yourself, too.”

You smiled, grabbing your black mask by the nose and holding it up to your eyes, glaring at him to make your point.

“Same person on the inside, though,” he commented, looking down at the white mask in his hand.

You stood up, and you grabbed his hand to help him up,

“C’mere. I’ll show you.”

“You’re not going to find a tutu that fits me, love.”

“No tutus for you, I promise. Just… stand here. Like that. Put your hand out like this. Good.”

Once he was in position, you grabbed the white mask from him and tied it around your face, willing your sore body back into position.

“This is Odette,” you said, making your hands and feet flutter to life. You spun into his hand, letting him feel the weightlessness of your body as you moved against him, the soft silken rustle of your leotard against his huge, callused hand. Eventually, you came to rest facing away from him, your thigh brushing his hip in a long, extended arabesque. His hand never moved from your waist, and you leaned into it, letting him balance you, his palm warm against your belly through the thin fabric.

“And this…” you replaced the white mask with the black one, changing yourself for him, metamorphosing right before his eyes, “...is Odile.”

This time, you challenged him, making him feel your muscles and bones with each spin, pushing against him like a threat. You could feel his uncertainty, but he naturally steeled himself, grabbing you with more power, trying to harness your energy. But, you knew he couldn’t. He didn’t know what do to. All he could do was stand there and feel you as you moved against him, aggressive and virulent.

As Odile, your final arabesque pressed into him lustfully, translating that fiery rage, your thigh slammed flush with his body, your hips forcing his hand to grip you to keep you from pushing him backwards.

Then, you stepped away, removing the mask and doing a little bow for effect.

“I see,” he murmured, seemingly unphased. But, even though he tried to hide it, his slight adjustment in his black dress pants did not slip by you. He stalked closer to you, closing the space that you had opened. His thumb came up to rub your cheek, right at the edge of the black mask, “Does the mask help?”

You dropped your volume to match his, still catching your breath a bit from the turns,

“Yeah, it reminds me that I can be someone I’m not.”

“Or maybe you can finally be someone you are,” his thumb traced your smooth skin down to your mouth where your lipstick stains and cracked powder were surely a right mess. But, he didn’t care. He pressed the pad of his finger to your bottom lip anyway, moving so carefully and deliberately you felt like you were under his spell.

“Maybe.”

“Hm,” he said noncommittally, backing away from you, releasing you from his invisible hold.

You finished packing, and you made your way into the dark night with him, walking quickly to get out of the spitting rain. He kept his arm around you, wrapping you in his warmth, shielding you from passersby.

Your mind was racing. You had taken this stranger home with you, no questions asked. It was a risk that you just didn’t take. When was the last time you even had a bloke in your flat, much less one that you desperately wanted to snog? At least you had cleaned yesterday. It was too small of a place not to pick up at least a little bit each day. There was no room for you to be messy.

“This is me,” you jingled your keys and pointed up to the tall, modern apartment building, gleaming in glass and steel amidst the historical Soho houses and businesses.

Every floor was the same. It was all modern and white, almost sterile. You felt like you lived in a museum.

“Mm, posh,” he commented, a little disgruntled.

“Free,” you rolled your eyes, “The ballet company houses all of us here.”

“Why can’t my free accommodations ever look this good?”

You cracked open the door to your flat and let him inside. Your cat, Mustard, immediately began her figure-eight dance between his legs, her favorite hello to every person who dared enter her domain.

“What do your accommodations usually look like, then?” You asked, pouring out some kibble for the cat and hanging your bag on its hook.

“Usually a tent, sometimes a cave. They even gave us a house once, no windows in it, but hey. You win some, you lose some.”

“I worry about Kyle, you know. You lads don’t have an easy job.”

“He’ll be alright. He’s a good one.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, staring up into Simon’s eyes, then you remembered your manners, “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m alright,” he smiled back, turning his head to look around your flat.

You gave him the short tour,

“Bathroom’s in there, and here’s my bedroom slash office slash den… Only enough room for the bed, really. I’m not here very much.”

“And…” He spoke slowly, carefully, no joviality in his tone this time, “Is it alright that I’m here, love?”

He eyed you cautiously, moving toward you, towering over your small frame, his hulking shoulders curling in on you, casting dark shadows across your vision, keeping you from the light.

You peered up at him, ignoring his question,

“Do you want to shower with me? I’d fucking murder someone for a hot shower.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, bending forward so that he could press his soft lips to your mouth, kissing you as gently as you’d ever been kissed. But, you could tell, just by the way he moved his jaw, letting his tongue lazily trace your bottom lip, there was so much more fervor under his skin, waiting to be unleashed. Right now, he was Odette, on his best behavior.

But, you wanted to see his Black Swan. Where was the beast that you knew must lurk within?

He pulled away from you, smiling a bit, and you giggled softly, dragging him along by his wrist, ducking into your spacious bathroom. It was the one thing you loved about this place. There was no living room to speak of, but damn if the bathroom wasn’t perfect. The huge glass shower was enough for a party of four, and the dual shower heads made you feel like some sort of royalty. You couldn’t wait to let your muscles soak under the cascade. Maybe tall, blond and handsome could put those strong hands of his to work and rub you down.

You stood in the mirror together, looking at each other, and you started to undress. He twisted a finger under the collar of your sweater until he could feel your skin. Then, he slipped it off of your shoulder. You dropped your arm, letting it slide to the floor. Then, as slowly as he could, you watched as he writhed his finger under your leotard’s strap, pulling it down your arm. When it got to be too taut, you helped him, removing your arms and rolling the soft nylon down your aching body.

Your wig was still on, but you weren’t about to wear it to bed, so you took it off in front of him, running your fingers through your short curls, letting your close-cut fingernails scratch your scalp.

Now, as you stood in the low light of your bathroom mirror, you were naked in front of him, standing with your back to him, covering your breasts in the mirror. Simon bent his head down so he could kiss your neck, and you felt him wrap a big hand around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. His kisses felt hot, and they were deeper than before, more hungry, pressing into you with more power.

You sighed, enjoying his mouth as it worked on you, but well-aware of just how caked on the sweat and the makeup were after a show, making excuses for yourself,

“I’m sweaty,” you whispered.

“I know,” he smiled, sticking out his fat, pink tongue and licking his way up to your ear, just to make his point.

He wrapped his arms around you, retreating for a moment, looking at you in the mirror. Then, when he saw you covering yourself, he gently pushed your arms away, making you reveal your bare breasts to him.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised you, kissing your scalp chastely.

You turned your back to the looking glass to face him, and you tangled your fingers between the buttons of his dress shirt. You weren’t in any hurry to peel him apart, but as you did, you saw more and more evidence of his hard life. His enormous muscles were inked with old tattoos, war scenes etched into his creamy flesh in black and gray. But, carved across his skin were tens of deep, jagged scars, standing as proof of the cruelty he’d endured.

You let your mouth fall to his chest, kissing him indiscriminately, licking when you wanted to, nibbling when you wanted to, giving in to your hedonism fully.

He untucked his shirt for you, peeling it off of his shoulders, and you watched as his muscles rippled and bent around his bones, stretching under his will. You worked on his belt, and he watched you take him apart, both of your heads craned down, staring at your hands as you freed him from his trousers. The zipper fell smoothly, and all that was left were his boxer briefs, underneath which hung a very girthy cock.

You touched him through the fabric, and he let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

“You’re a big man, Mr. Riley,” you teased, playing with his head through the thin fabric, meeting his gaze and finding him fully unraveled. His eyes were hooded and lustful, and it made you wonder how he liked to be touched so you could keep him like this, under your spell.

He tucked his thumbs in his pants and pulled them down, bare with you, and he held your body flush to his in a warm hug. You could feel his cock trapped between you, wet and warm on your belly, and his big hands came down to grab two handfuls of your ass, prying you apart so that the cold air of the room would hit your pussy and tell you how wet you were, enjoying the feel of your meat between his fingers.

“Good thing you’ve got a bloody big shower, love. Might actually be able to stand under the tap, me. Can’t believe it.”

You watched him step into the large glass box and turn on the stream, the heat making him sigh. You joined him, jealous of the feeling, and let your own shower head beat your muscles into submission.

You hissed in pain and he heard it, snapping his attention to you like a dog with a bone.

“What is it?”

“Sore. End of the week is hard.”

He poured some of your soap into his hand, way too much, but you didn’t correct him, and he commented as he bathed you,

“I read about it before we came, you know. Read about the story. About what you have to do to be the star. Hard work, that.”

“There are harder things,” You said in a low voice, tracing a particularly suspicious-looking wound in the shape of a bullet on his right hip.

“Not many. Turn around,” he commanded. You were pleasantly surprised how much you liked it when he took control.

Here, in the warm nest of the shower, you gave him your weakness and let him take care of you. He massaged your shoulders and your back unprompted, rubbing slick suds all over your skin, and he washed your hair. You moisturized on your own, letting him smell all of your tonics and potions, washing your face as he fondled your ass again, enjoying you fully.

You felt like time had stopped.

You washed him, letting your hands roam, caring for him as he had cared for you, and when you were both clean, you couldn’t help but linger on each other a bit. He reached between your legs and explored you for a moment, swiping his huge finger through your curls. When he found your warmth, so different from the steam of the shower, and a different wetness, too, he sighed.

“Is it alright if I stay the night?” He asked.

It surprised you. You assumed that getting naked and showering in front of a man who would be immediately boxed up and shipped back to Khandor on the next flight out would have stayed without asking. He would have assumed that his presence was his invitation.

You nodded,

“Please stay, Simon.”

He touched your breast, plucking at your nipple softly, seeming like he was uncertain despite your answer. You pried,

“Are you worried about Kyle? Did he say something —”

“No,” Simon smiled, “He knows you’re a big girl. It’s just been awhile… for me.”

“If you want to go…” You let your hands spread wide across his chest, purposely avoiding his cock, not wanting to sway him in a covinous way.

He shook his head,

“No. I just want you to be sure. I can’t… We leave again, and I can’t make promises.”

“No promises. I know what you do. I know who you are because I know who Kyle is. You aren’t misleading me here, Simon. But, if you don’t take me to bed, I might lose my bloody mind.”

The smile that spread across his face then was a true one. It couldn’t hide. It squeezed his cheeks up into his eyes and wrinkled their edges like a paper fan. His full lips pulled tight across those white teeth, his incisors long like fangs and just as sharp. And he blushed, that pale skin giving away his feelings to you.

He kissed your forehead and turned off the taps, retrieving two towels and bundling you in one, on your way back to bed, you snatched your lotion and started to put it on in a half-assed way, hurrying for his benefit.

“Hey, stealin’ my duties?”

Simon plucked the lotion out of your head and nodded to the bed. You lay down for him, waiting for what he had in store. He pumped the lotion into his hand, less this time, you noticed, and began at your thighs. His wide palms rubbed and massaged you until he had covered you, paying attention to your hands and feet, before commanding you again:

“Flip over, love.”

You gladly did, sighing and moaning shamelessly as he rubbed lotion all over your back and legs. When he got to your round, plump ass, he took more of his time.

“Watchin’ you move up there on that stage, tryin’ to seduce the bloody prince, fuck… it made me feel like you were dancing for me. The way you move… your body… I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”

“I was,” you confessed.

“What?” He stopped massaging you, putting the lotion on your table and crawling into the bed with you.

You waited until you were under the covers with your head firmly planted on his chest before admitting it to him,

“I was dancing for you tonight. When I saw you with my brother… you were all I could think about. I could see you in the box, when I was Odile, and I wanted you to look at me.”

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

You weren’t sure who kissed who, but you were now trapped within each other, sucking at each others’ mouths, moaning and writhing in each others’ arms. Snogging like you were dying.

His cock was already hard, but you felt its smooth, silky body pressing and throbbing against your belly as he held you close, hungry for your wet hole, eager to be the one to fill it.

You let your hand fall between you, jerking him off, rubbing slick circles around his head until he had to break your kiss to cry out for you. You raised your leg over his hip and moved to put him inside you, but he shook his head and started chanting in short, breathless whispers,

“Wait, wait, wait…”

Then, he disappeared, leaving you at the top of the duvet alone, licking and sucking his way down your body until he reached your pussy. As he began to eat you, he also spread you apart. You’d never felt so exposed before, but he wanted to lick your petals, slurping them into his mouth like the lobes of a sweet orange, one by one devouring you in your sensitive state.

Your hands scratched at his scalp, which he seemed to enjoy. You watched his eyes flutter with pleasure after a particularly vigorous passthrough.

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Gimme that come, baby,” he growled, gently circling your entrance with two thick fingers before fitting them into you with a wet, slick sound.

“Oh!” You called out, staring down at him as he planted his mouth over your clit, suckling at its swollen body, razing your nerves to ashes.

It didn’t take long before he had you coming for him, and when he felt you tense up beneath his hands, that true smile was back. He sat up on his knees and helped you come back down, slowing his movements just enough to calm your breathing, but keeping you precariously balanced on the edge where he wanted you.

“Turn over on your belly, love.”

For some reason, it made you feel incredibly vulnerable to have him behind you, and your body shivered from the tension. He noticed, and he lay himself over you, soothing you, whispering right into your ear,

“I’ve got you, love. You wanna stop, we’ll stop. No problem. That clear?”

You nodded your head, and he met your eyes, making damn sure. Then, satisfied, you heard him digging around in his discarded dress pants, the crinkle of the foil condom, and then the slick roll of the barrier slipping over his head.

“Thank fuck for condoms,” he laughed, “Might give me a chance to last more than a few minutes in this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”

You laughed with him, shrugging,

“You come, we try again. I’m not bothered.”

“Mm,” he nuzzled your ear, laying his body over yours and letting you feel his weight. His cockhead was tickling your entrance, but he didn’t go any further, saying, “This must be my white swan I have beneath me. Sweet on me, huh?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, reeling from the sensation of his tip rolling around your hole’s entrance, desperately grinding for more.

“What would the black swan say to me, huh?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his eyes, and just like you had in the barre room, you showed him your other side. When he saw the flash in your eyes of your wildness, he knew he’d gotten his wish. You shoved your hips down, spearing yourself onto him before he was ready for you, making him gasp as your pussy slaked over the first few inches of his cock.

“Give me your cock, Simon.”

He recovered, biting his lip and thrusting into you, stuffing himself inside of you deeper and deeper,

“There she is. My girl…”

The power that he used to fuck you was beyond anything that any other man had dared give you. You didn’t know this was a possibility. Your whole body was trapped beneath him, being kissed and crushed and fucked into a wet, submissive mess. His arms were planted beside you, pinning you in, and honestly, you had never felt so safe.

You could smell your coconut body wash on him, mixing with whatever it was that made him a man, musky and dark, a hint of his Camel Blues. You wanted to bathe in him, just as he had washed you with his hands. Instead of soap, you wanted it to be him, smearing himself all over you, caking you in his essence.

“Fuck, you are so tight. Squeezin’ me. Fuck…”

He was off of you in a flash, and before you knew it, he’d flipped you over. He spread open your legs and played with you for a moment, trying to stop himself from coming. His cock was in his other hand like a vice, and you watched him struggle with no small sense of pride.

You decided it was your turn to lead this dance, and you sat up, kissing him full on the mouth, letting your tongue loll against his, sensuous and warm. Then, you wrapped your knees around him and shoved him back toward the foot of the bed, riding him down. When you caught your balance, you reached behind you to feed him into your pussy again, pressing into him with your weight.

“Wait! Oh, fuckin’ hell.”

Simon’s hands went to your hips and then immediately to cover his mouth, stopping himself from gasping from the sensation. You ignored him, bucking against his huge cock, discovering you could take him even deeper. As you began to grind against him, you let your hands play in your folds, vibrating your clit and driving yourself wild. Your other hand went to his balls, rolling them gently in your hands behind your back.

“Ungh… You are gonna make me come, love.”

As soon as you heard his confession, you released him from your hand and paused at the top of your thrust, hovering on his tip in midair, teasing him ruthlessly.

“Oh… you —” Simon never finished his sentence because he grabbed you around your hips and dropped you back to the bed, prowling over you and huffing like a stuck bull. You were laughing in gasping breaths from the shock of his strength, and you almost missed the moment when he began to press his swollen rod back inside of you, spearing you mercilessly.

You whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck like a lifeline.

“Mmm,” he purred proudly, “She needs me, now. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, letting him kiss you languidly with soft, pliant lips.

“Needs me like this, huh? Tell me.”

“I need you, Si—”

“Tell. Me.”

“I need you so bad! Please, please… fuck me like this. Fuck —”

He covered your mouth with his own and chased down your orgasm like a thief, watching as your eyes got wide, pulling away so he could hear you keen.

“Yes, yes, yes…” He chanted in your face, not moving away for a second, unwilling to miss even one moment of it.

“Simon…” You whined, feeling the shock of your release and the afterburn of your pleasure as it flooded through your core, messy and salacious.

“Feel so good, baby,” he was barely speaking above a whisper, sounding like he was drunk, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“You gonna come in me?”

Hope and bliss flashed across his face, and he kissed you again, pressing his nose right beside your nose and muttering into your mouth,

“Fuck yes, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

As he came, he held his breath, locked, frozen in time, his eyes wrenched shut and his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You held his head in your arms, keeping him close to you, keeping him safe like he had kept you.

When he finally took a breath, it was ragged and gravelly. He panted like a tired hound, sucking in air and leaning against you to recover. For a while, you just lay together, his big body draped over yours, healing in you, using your wet come as a salve.

Then, he slipped away, leaving you bereft at the loss.

He pulled you into his arms, making sure you were covered and warm in your bed, finding your eyes and kissing your cheek, wordlessly thanking you for what he had done to you.

“Do you want me to go?” He whispered, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t face the answer.

“Please, stay. Don’t leave me, Simon. Not yet.”

“C’mere,” he sighed, curling his body around yours, securing you in his arms, breathing with you until you both tumbled into a deep, dark sleep.

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #call of duty #gpdrecs #gpd #gpdrecs writing challenge #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghostchallenge

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queen-of-deans-booty · 9 months

Text

Practice Makes Perfect

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Actress!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: none, nervous!jensen that's super cute

Request by anon: Hey, can i request a series or one shot with Jensen x actress/singer reader, where the reader is very famous actress and singer that work in Marvel as Black Widow, Game of Thrones, TVDU, etc and Jensen loved her and always are talking about her in set without knowing that she is Gen Padalecki best fiends and Jared Padalecki friends and Jared tell her all Jensen said about her so she was casted as a new character who is Dean love interest without him knowing and in the end they end together and have kids?

Summary: You're a famous actress that's been in lots of movies and TV shows. Jensen has a huge crush on you and doesn't know that the newest person to be hired onto Supernatural is none other than you.

Square Filled: what if (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: just pretend that each of the shows/movies she's been in took place one after the other instead of going on at the exact same time.

Jared and Jensen have a few minutes alone before their panel. Jared is snacking on whatever they provided them with while Jensen is sitting on the couch browsing on his phone. Jared has his wife on FaceTime as he is stuffing his face, and she laughs at the food dripping from his mouth.

“Baby, why can’t you eat normally?”

“What? I’m hungry,” he says, more food spewing from his mouth.

“Our kids eat better than you,” she chuckles.

“Jen, tell her I eat normally.” Jared turns to his friend but Jensen isn’t listening to a word he’s saying. He has one of his Airpods in watching a video. “Are you guys coming to the panel?”

“Yeah, we’re just exploring right now.”

“Hi, Daddy!” Odette smiles and jumps into the frame.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Say bye!”

All three of his kids say bye just before Gen hangs up on him. Jared finishes eating his snack before walking over to his friend. He takes a seat next to him to see what video he’s watching and smirks when he sees you on the screen.

“So, what do you want to do when the panel is over? What section of the convention do you want to visit?” Jared asks knowing Jensen isn’t listening.

He’s too invested in the video of you doing press for your new Marvel movie. You play the elusive Black Widow in all of the Marvel films, and you just got done filming your own solo movie. You’ve done some press for the movie even before it comes out to prepare people for what to expect and things of that nature.

“You’re obsessed with her,” Jared chuckles.

“Shut up, I’m not,” Jensen barks. “I’m just an admirer of her movies.”

“You have posters of her locked away in your collection.”

Jensen slaps his friend on the chest and continues watching the video. It’s true, Jensen has a major crush on you not only for Black Widow but for every role you’ve ever done. You’ve played Sansa Stark in Game of Thrones, Katherine and Elena in The Vampire Diaries, and so much more. You’re such a talented person that acting is like second nature to you. You can do almost any role you’ve ever landed, and you’ve won a lot of awards for it which you’re proud of.

“Damn, look at her. She’s gorgeous,” Jensen says with metaphorical hearts in his eyes. Jared laughs and Jensen shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I have a major crush on this woman. What are you gonna do about it?”

“We’re about to do a panel. Come on.”

Jensen and Jared get ready to go out on stage. All their fans cheer for them when they make an appearance. Jared scans the audience to see his wife there with her phone pointed at him. He nods once and turns to Jensen knowing his wife is getting this on video.

“Alright, any questions?” Jared asks. A lot of hands go up in the air, and he points to the person whom Gen gestures. “What’s your name?”

“Elisa. I’m such a huge fan of both of you. My question is for Jensen. I watched a video you did talking about the actress Y/N. She just finished her movie Black Widow. Is it true you have a crush on her?”

Everyone cheers for this question but quiets down to give Jensen an opportunity to answer. His entire face reddens at the question and becomes extremely conscious of what he’s wearing, what he’s saying, and how he’s behaving as if you’re in the room.

“Wow, there’s a lot to unpack here. Look, she’s gorgeous, I’m not gonna lie. If she were standing in front of me now, I don’t think I’d form complete sentences. So, yes, I have a crush on her.”

Everyone laughs at how shy he’s becoming, and Gen looks at the person she’s on FaceTime with.

“He’s so cute,” you chuckle through the screen. “Very charming.”

You’re a really good friend of the Padalecki family. You met Gen through a non-profit organization she was funding a while back and became fast friends with her. She and Jared welcomed you into their family immediately but it was never known to Jensen that you knew them.

“Just wait until you meet him in person.”

“Isn’t it true that there is still an opening for that female character on their show?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m in between projects right now. I’d be happy to audition if you want to bring that to Jared.”

“I’ll have him hook you up,” Gen smirks.

“Is that Y/N?” Shep asks and forces his face into the frame.

“Hey, Shep,” you grin.

Supernatural is about to start filming its eleventh season which means the director is desperate to fill the role of Dean’s love interest. Jared brought you up as an option, the director had you audition, and you were offered the part before leaving the building to go home. Jensen still doesn’t know that you were the one who was offered the role, just that the position had been filled.

“Isn’t it a bit suspicious that we haven’t met this new person?” Jensen asks.

“Talk to the director, dude.” Jared gets a call from the director and answers it with a smile. “Hey. Are you here? … Perfect. I’ll be right there.”

“Whose that?”

“Gen is here. I gotta go. I’ll be right back.”

Jared leaves before Jensen can ask any other questions. He meets up with you and the director who is waiting for him on the other side of the set.

“Jared!” you grin and give him a friendly hug. “Working together is going to be so fun.”

You’re not sure how long you’ll be on the show, but you hope it’s going to last years.

“Is he ready?”

“He’s practicing his lines right now.”

Jared escorts you to the main set where Jensen is. He’s already in his Dean clothes since they are scheduled to film right now. His back is turned to you when you enter the room so you think this is the perfect opportunity to scare him. He is holding a prop gun and muttering his lines when you jump in front of him. He yelps and drops the gun as you let out an infectious laugh.

“What?” he stutters when he sees you.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you grin and hold out your hand for him. Jensen is a stuttering mess but shakes your hand nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“She’s going to play your new love interest,” Jared says and slaps him on the back lightly.

“It’s going to be so much fun working with you.”

“Yeah, same here,” Jensen manages to get out. “Excuse me for a second.” He brings Jared off to the side to talk to him privately. “What the hell? Did you know about this?”

“Yeah, she’s a family friend.”

“How did I not know this?”

“I’m good at keeping secrets when I want to,” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be in the same room as her.”

“You’re welcome,” Jared smirks and pats his back.

Jared walks away just as you approach Jensen.

“I hope you’re okay with me being here.”

“More than okay,” he smiles shyly. I love your movies. You’re an amazing actress.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “I love this show. Dean just so happens to be my favorite character.”

That makes Jensen blush. Over the next couple of months, you’ve been filming with the boys as much as you can. It’s been nothing but fun especially when you participate in their pranks on Misha. You and Jensen are growing closer, more than you ever thought you would. He’s super nice, sweet, charming, and very sexy. He’s everything a girl would want in a man. This was inevitable, but you got to the part in your onscreen relationship where your characters share a kiss. He’s super nervous as are you since you both have feelings for one another.

“Dean, I don’t know why you’re bugging out. The hunt went exactly as planned,” your character says as you unpack your duffel bag.

“You got hurt. How is that exactly as planned?”

“We got the bad guy. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Not at the cost of your life! How could you think so little of it?”

“Dean, it’s just a scratch. I’ve gotten worse wounds than this.”

“God, you’re not getting it,” he scoffs.

“What? Please explain to me how you’re feeling.”

“It’s your life! No monster is worth that. You’re too important to me.” Jensen walks over to you and cups your jaw. The moment is so intense, so intimate. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I’m right here,” you whisper.

You two stare into your eyes right before he smashes his lips on yours. He isn’t kissing you like how Dean would, he’s kissing you like how he would. The kiss is supposed to be short and sweet but Jensen keeps it going as long as he can. Your lips mold with his perfectly as if you were meant to be doing this your whole life.

The director yells CUT and Jensen pulls away from you slightly. He cheers at getting it on one take, and you step back from him with a nervous chuckle.

“Good job you two! Take ten everyone!”

“Listen, if you ever want to practice lines or… other things, you’re more than welcome to come to my trailer. You know, practice makes perfect.”

“I’ll make sure to take you up on that offer,” he smirks.

And practice did make perfect. After hearing the story of how you met Jenson yet again, both your daughters clap happily.

“Tell the story again!” your six-year-old giggles.

“Again!” your four-year-old laughs after her sister.

“Not tonight, girls,” you grin and kiss both their heads.

“Go to sleep. We’ll see you in the morning,” Jensen says.

You and Jensen leave their room and close the door gently. Jensen brings you into his arms and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Landing that role has been the best thing to ever happen to me,” you whisper to him.

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” Jensen smiles and kisses you.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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vikkirosko · 5 months

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Hi I'm not sure if you write for velvette but if you do could you do a reader who makes weapons and is the youngest daughter of Carmilla with step dad zestial(I ship the two of them) I love a little family drama.

❤ Velvette x fem!Reader headcanons Family drama 🤍

Velvette and you have been in a relationship for a long time. She gave you the most beautiful outfits created by her hands, she invited you on dates and took a huge number of photos of you together. Velvette knew what your favorite colors were, she knew how beautiful your smile was, what you loved to eat and how often you could immerse yourself in your work, so much so that you could forget about sleeping and eating. Velvette knew that you were involved in the manufacture of weapons and that was all she knew about your work. She wouldn't have known any more if she hadn't come to the meeting of the overlords and seen you there with a calm expression on your face, sitting next to Clara and Odette. It was at this moment that Velvette noticed how obvious the similarities between you, Clara, Odette and Carmilla were. You were part of their family

Velvette didn't talk to you openly, but she smiled at you and winked, making you blush. This did not escape the eyes of your mother and Zestial, who was your foster father. That is why, as soon as the meeting ended, Carmilla in a firm voice told Velvette to stay. You both knew exactly what it was going to be about. As soon as the other overlords left, Velvette came up to you and hugged you around the waist, then pulled you to her and kissed you on the lips, causing surprised and confused expressions on your sisters' faces, concern on Zestial's face and anger on your mother's face. Velvette and Carmilla didn't get along, and the fact that you were dating Velvette didn't make her happy at all. Your girlfriend saw this and deliberately continued, as if wanting to show your mother how close you were

Velvette bluntly stated, looking at the faces of your family members, that you were dating her and she was not going to end your relationship. Carmilla had a lot to say, but Velvette took you away, saying that the most romantic date imaginable awaits you. It was only in the elevator that she asked you if you even planned to tell her that you were (Y/N) Carmine. You sighed heavily and honestly told me that you are the youngest daughter in your family and you usually make weapons, because this was what you always did best. You knew about the mutual hostility between your mother and your girlfriend, so you didn't tell Velvette about your family and you didn't tell your family that you have a girlfriend. You understood the chaos created by Velvette's actions and when you returned home you had to deal with everything

Upon returning home, you had a long conversation with your mother. Carmilla couldn't understand what you found in someone like Velvette, and you tried to convince your mom that your girlfriend wasn't as bad as she might seem. The result of your conversation was a quarrel, because of which you went to your room, where your sisters soon came, and Zestial tried to calm your mother, realizing that, although Velvette was not the most pleasant person, but you chose her yourself, which means you really loved her. In your room, you told Clara and Odette about how great Velvette could be, and you showed them some photos from your dates. Your sisters saw how happy you were together and how much you, their younger sister whom they cared about, were in love. It was the first time you were so happy and they weren't going to get in your way, at least not until Velvette did something to get them to step in

When you were alone, you called Velvette to tell her what happened. Soon your conversation turned to a completely different topic. Velvette loved hearing your joyful voice and you chatted for hours until you had to go to bed. You both didn't know that Carmilla was coming to your door, intending to talk to you, but when she heard you happily chatting with your girlfriend on the phone, she stopped, not daring to interrupt you. She hasn't heard your happy voice for a long time. It was really difficult for Carmilla to accept your relationship with Velvette, but the happiness and well-being of the family came first for her, and if you needed Velvette for happiness, then she had to try to accept it

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Velvette #Velvette x Reader

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astrid-sama · 5 months

Text

Carmilla Carmine x fem reader

Carmilla is acting strangely and reader believes she is cheating on her.

"Those three are hiding something from me"

This was the thought you had in your head for a while; it all started about a month ago, the first to behave strangely was your girlfriend Carmilla, she went from avoiding you even for a whole day to showering you with attention, other times it seemed like she wanted to tell you something important and in the end she pulled back; After a while Clara and Odette also began to behave strangely.

At first you didn't worry too much about the strange behavior that Carmilla and her daughters had adopted, believing that perhaps they were just stressed due to the anticipated extermination, but, as time passed, the more your mind speculated about the reasons for their behavior.

-She's cheating on me, I'm sure of it! How can she do something like that to me I thought she loved me-

You are currently at your best friend's house crying while eating a big tub of ice cream.

-Don't say that, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding-

-No, she's definitely cheating on me with that overlord Zestial-

-Come here-

Stolas spread his arms and you immediately went to snuggle into your friend's arms, finding it very comforting.

-Carmilla loves you and everyone in hell knows this, what makes you doubt it?-

-Well he's been behaving strangely for a while, at first I thought it was due to the stress caused by the early extermination but as time went by I realized that that couldn't be the reason, so I started to think and ...-

-And this crazy idea of betrayal came to your mind-

-Maybe I exaggerated a little-

-Decidedly; I think you should talk about it with Carmilla, I'm sure that everything will be resolved that way-

-Thank you Stolas, you always know what to say. Now let's stop talking about me, tell me how the date with Blitzo went-

The next day you decided that you would talk to Carmilla to find out the reason for her behavior. You found your girlfriend in her study, absorbed in work; you knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter.

-Enter. Mi amor, do you need something? -

-Yes, I need to talk to you-

-Tell me everything mi amor-

-I've noticed that you've been acting strange lately and I want to know why-

-It's nothing don't worry-

-No, you can't tell me that nothing is happening! If you're cheating on me, at least have the courage to tell me!-

Tears were starting to form in your eyes, you're not usually this emotional but a month of doubts and having said your biggest fear out loud had shaken you a lot.

The look on Carmilla's face was shocked to say the least, she really couldn't understand how something like that could come to your mind, it's true that she's been a bit strange lately but it certainly wasn't because I was cheating on you.

-Mi amor please let me explain-

-Speak, I'm listening-

You said crossing your arms over your chest and trying to keep a cold look.

-What is this important thing you have to tell me?-

Carmilla went to her desk, took a small black box from one of the drawers and after taking a deep breath she knelt in front of you.

-Mi amor, the first time I saw you you captured my thoughts, the first time you spoke to me you captured my heart and being with you forever would make me the happiest woman in the world because where you are is the my paradise; mi amor, will you marry me?-

For a second you were speechless, when you finally managed to process what Carmilla had said you couldn't stop smiling.

-Of course I want to marry you! I want it more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire existence!-

Carmilla stood up and after putting the ring on your finger she gave you a passionate kiss that made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

-Come, let's go and tell our daughters-

Carmilla took your hand and together you went to tell the wonderful news to Clara and Odette.

I hope you like this fanfiction.

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x fem reader #carmilla carmine x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine

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shadowskulls-blog · 3 months

Note

Yk given how tall carmilla carmine is why do I imagine a 4’10 reader being either bratty or just annoying carmilla *they just have gremlin energy* or her being protective of them and don’t want them to get hurt and the only way she can handle r is by putting on a high place and can’t get down *the top of the fridge/kitchen cabinet is offically r’s spot*

😂😂😂 and the funniest thing is I am that height and I can see her just having a “I’m done” expression and just put someone there and walk away winning the argument

Sup, I'm back and now have motivation again, and I was scrolling through my inbox and found this, and I wanted to answer it, but instead of doing a story, I'm gonna give headcanons instead. I've never written headcannons, but I read them a lot, so yeah.

Carmilla Carmine x Short Reader (headcannons)

(Sfw) and (Nsfw) headcannons

One thing is for sure the reader has gremlin energy. Being this small and rather full of energy person. Carmilla loves it. It brings her spirits up every time you come by and make jokes

I don't know her cannon height, but I'd imagine it's in the 8 foot scale. Because tall women are very sexy. So she'd definitely pick you up from time to time. Not a whole lot, but sometimes.

Half the times when she does is to either put you on the fridge or a high place to calm you down or when you're being annoying.

Annoying in the sense where you couldn't stop making sex jokes, so she put you up there so she didn't get too distracted from her work or you two were arguing.

I can only imagine the reader going, "wha- Cammy! What you doing?! Carmilla! You can't leave me up here! Carmilla, please! Come back!" While trying not to fall off the fridge so you didn't break something.

And the entire time Carmilla just has the most "I'm done" expression while placing you up there and walking out of the room

And I can only imagine that 40% of time, Carmilla forgets she put you up there and Clara or Odette walk in to grab a drink and you're just up there, having the most scared or tired look on your face and going

"Please, get your mom so she can get me down, and so we can go to bed"

Being very small. Carmilla would be very protective. Making sure you were close by her at all times and also making sure you were with her. While also making sure to be gentle with you. But she also gives you angelic guns to protect yourself.

Lord knows you're deadly with a gun

While you two are in bed, she will always have you wrapped in her arms, her giant hands making it feel like you're wrapped in a cacoon, or it either looks like a koala hugging a tree. You don't even need a blanket because you'll always be wrapped around Carmilla

(Nsfw)

While having sex Carmilla will try her best to be gentle, but it fails most of the time. Sometimes, she'll go too hard or accidentally scratch you a bit.

Carmilla is most definitely a top, but you have to be the top most of the time. Because if you don't, I can only imagine the after shock. But, Carmilla is also a power bottom.

Either way, you're getting railed every time.

The reader is definitely a scratcher. So Carmilla's back or anywhere the reader was grabbing is probably scratched a bit.

(I like physical touch a lot, and that's the only thing you're getting about me)

So the reader is a hugger a bunch, hugging Carmilla's legs, body, neck. You just like wrapping your arms around her, honestly like me

The aftercare is her being very gentle while holding you close. Most of the time, you both will fall asleep right after, holding each other or take a bath together.

So yeah, I don't know how to do headcannons since I've never written for them. Overall I just say what I want to and don't give two fucks. I'm just here to supply thristy bastards like myself.

So, I hope that was a good first try. Also, again, I am so very sorry for not posting. Life just likes to fucks me over but, it does for everyone so this is the last time I'll bitch about my life

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla carmine x fem reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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glorismorningstar · 2 months

Text

THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x bodyguard!reader, Vaggie x reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x reader

Summary: The group is hesitant when a certain serpent-like threat returns to the Hotel for the third time to ask for redemption. Y/N begins to accept that Carmilla is the one she's with and grows more comfortable in the relationship.

Warnings: WLW, mentions of sex, aftercare, nostalgia, canon-typical violence, Alastor being Alastor, betrayal

A/N: damn this part sucks so bad in comparison to the others, but I have to keep it going, and the next few parts are gonna get so much saucier >:))

| Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“What was up with you last night, corazòn?” Carmilla purred from beside me, soft lips skimming over my shoulder with appreciative pecks. “You didn't want to come over, I got a little worried.”

“It's no big deal, I just had a lot on my mind.” I sighed softly, carding my fingers through her white and black strands of hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Not really,” I replied, guilty about keeping her in the dark. As much as our relationship was casual and mainly carnal, I did care about Carmilla, and I wanted to tell her everything about my sisters, my status and Lute, but I always ended up deciding against it. Alastor said it was better for my safety to keep it a secret. “Now's not the time to think about it. Tell me about your day.”

“Ugh, Vox canceled on me today again.” She groaned in frustration, which drew an eye roll from me. Nepotism ran rampant among the Overlords, that was how I'd met Carmilla and all the other Overlords. Months before Alastor's sabbatical, he had asked me to attend meetings with him enough times to get me used to going there. Gradually, he began to skip meetings more often, which resulted in me filling in for him for the last seven years. His one-sided homoerotic rivalry with that bonehead Vox, and incidentally the other Vees, had also been passed on to me. Well, not so much the rivalry itself as the general distaste and animosity for them.

“Again?” I huffed, shifting on my side to face her. I brushed my fingertips along her bare arm, tracing imaginary patterns on her skin.

The gesture made her relax, the annoyance with Vox melting away. “Yeah. But it's just as well, at least we got to make up for last night.”

“Mhm, you're right.” I chuckled, brushing her hair away from her neck to expose the fresh love bites littering her gray skin. The way they bloomed so easily on her pale complexion reminded me of-

No. Enough. I hadn't seen Lute in twenty-seven years, and she either thought me dead, a deserter or a traitor. Even if I could get a chance to see her again, the odds of her wanting me back were far too slim.

Get out of my head, I groan internally. You're in bed naked with another woman. Stop it.

“So, how are the girls?” I cleared my throat, shaking the previous thoughts out of my head.

“Actually, they've been asking about you.” She hummed.

“They have?” Her daughters knew about our little affair, as they had seen me sneaking out multiple times before. Before becoming involved with Carmilla, I'd met Clara and Odette at the meetings, they'd accompany her just as I did Alastor. They seemed quite fond of me, and I found it adorable that Carmilla named them after ballet characters. I wanted to protect all three of them, it finally felt like having a family again, but seeing Lute again…

Ugh, what's the point? I'd never get back to Heaven again. I needed to care about the family I had to protect now, situationship or not.

“Yeah. They said they'll keep you if I will.” She chuckled, gazing at me with something beyond simple care in her eyes. Damn it.

“They really said that?” I laughed softly, endeared.

“Yeah.” She said, nuzzling her nose into my neck. My hand buried itself in her hair, stroking through the silky white and black locks that flopped over her forehead. Carmilla was a single mother and extremely busy. Even if Clara and Odette weren't children, they needed to be maintained. It's not like they had money problems, but if either of them ever wanted to go on their own path, they'd need support in any way they could. The way they had so much faith in me made me feel responsible for them.

I made up my mind. If Carmilla decided to ask me out on a proper date, I'd say yes.

“In fact, I've been thinking-” My ringtone cut her off, which made me curse under my breath and peer over my shoulder to see who was calling. Vaggie. Fuck. She hung up and a message appeared on the screen:

SOS, Pentious is back at the hotel

18:37

“Son of a bitch.” I mumbled, running a hand through the single tuft of golden mane atop my head.

“What- what's going on?” She stuttered, sitting up on her elbows to gaze at me with a little nervousness in her gaze.

“Some buffoon who attacked this morning is back at the hotel. I have to deal with this,” I huffed and sat up, gathering my clothes from the insane spots they had ended up in. “I'll make this up to you, I promise.”

I pulled my purple striped jacket on and buttoned it up, then bent down to plant a long, passionate kiss on her lips, thumb rubbing her cheekbone with care. I smiled at her and pressed another kiss to her forehead, which drew another smile from her. “Bye, cielo.”

“Bye, corazòn. Text me when you're safe.”

I nodded at her and ran a hand through my mane to fix it, then blew her another kiss and walked out the door, running down the stairs and towards the hotel as fast as possible.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I reached the hotel and spotted a flash of gray and yellow walking inside, recognizing it as Pentious, which drew a low growl from my throat. My claws protracted with a small shink noise and I stalked after him without a sound, tail swaying side to side for balance as I prepared to pounce- “Change of plans, he's staying.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

“He says he wants to try redemption.” Vaggie explained with a look of dismay.

“But he attacked us just this morning, how is that not a trick?” I gritted, ears perking up at each of his hisses with great irritation.

“It is, but the point here is to give people second chances,” she sighed, looking at Charlie as she showed him around the hotel. “Just keep your eyes open. Don't leave her side, especially not when he's around.”

“Alright.” I mumbled and followed after them, eyes already supervising his each and every move like a hawk. I let out a silent huff. I couldn't believe that I had to leave Carmilla alone after sex to put up with a nutbag and a golden retriever’s poor judgment.

“What are you booing about? Taco booty call got cut off?” Angel asked sleazily, elbowing me in the side with two arms.

“How many minorities can you offend in a single breath?” I replied with a roll of my eyes, crossing my arms as I followed after Charlie, not drawing my gaze from her and Pentious.

“If that pisses you off, you should watch the Olympics with me.”

I sighed in exasperation and trailed after them, ears twitching atop my head as I listened to their conversation, “-and this is the new wall after you broke the last one, heh, and- oh! This, this is-”

“Babe, you don’t have to show him every detail.”

“Sorry, I’m just so excited to have our first real guest!”

Right. A hissy man child who destroyed one of our walls and came back six hours later to request sanctuary. There’s no way this could end badly.

“What the hell am I then?” Angel asked, offended.

“A spider that lives here rent free.” I replied promptly, tail curling around my leg as I moved my gaze back to Pentious, as ordered.

“Well, you’re an important part of our family here, Angel, but you, um…”

“Constantly make us look bad, sexually harass the staff and have literally never once tried to improve?”

“Correct.” I affirmed, having nothing more to add to the list.

“What they mean is, it’s nice to have someone interested for once.” Charlie rephrased in a misguided attempt to soften Vaggie’s true words. “Over here, we have Nifty!”

“The bad boy is back!” The little lady exclaimed, crawling up Pentious’ upper body and clinging to his shoulders with a creepy whisper, “Never leave me again.”

“Don’t mind her, we’re about eighty percent sure she’s harmless.” I said, coming up behind him and standing over at Charlie’s side, giving him a death glare that ensured that Nifty was harmless, but I sure wasn’t.

“And over here, we have-”

Oh, boy, here we go.

There stood Alastor, with his questionable posture, his signature grin and his hands resting home on his lower back. I rolled my eyes fondly and watched the scene unfold with amusement, as Pentious had ripped his coat earlier today.

“-oh, uh, Alastor, our gracious facility manager! You’ve met our newest guest, Sir Pentious… heh, heh.” Charlie chuckled nervously as Pentious gave an awkward wave.

“Ah, yes, you’re the one that ruined my coat,” said Alastor, drawing another eye roll from me. And so it begins. “I definitely remember you now.”

They're cute when they're about to wet themselves. I cringed while Pentious swallowed thickly and Charlie's expression grew into a concerned one and she scrambled to salvage the situation. “Well, I guess this is a great time for your first lesson-”

She cleared her throat and I smirked, leaning against the railing of the stairs as I observed the princess mediating the two petty, petty men. “-how to apologize. The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you are wrong. Why don't you give it a try?”

Charlie pushed Pentious forward and Alastor kept staring at him with his scary-ass smile, while the snake man smiled awkwardly and tried his best to apologize. “Yes, um… Mr., um, Radio Demon, sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat… um, here…”

He pulled a chunk of red fabric from his pocket and handed it to Al, obviously thinking it was a good idea. I snickered under my breath and pretended to rub my jaw to cover it up, watching the scene with great amusement. “Oh-ho, not many people have been able to take even this much off me! It must have meant quite a lot to you.”

After putting on a look of faux empathy, he set the fabric on fire, green flames wrapping the material in a tiny blaze as he held it between his red gloved fingertips. I pursed my lips tightly to keep any comments or laughter at bay while the other two stared at the flames with concern.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“Now, with a new resident, I think it's important that we all get to know each other, so we are going to play a little game. Everyone, follow me,” Charlie began, then cleared her throat softly and sang, “My name is Charlie - clap, clap - I like to sing - clap, clap - and when we get to know each other, it's the greatest thing - clap, clap.”

She then pointed at me, who sat beside her, and I stumbled over my words, scrambling in my mind for any good ideas for the improv. “Uh, my name is Y/N - clap, clap - I like to draw - clap, clap - and when I'm in difficult endeavors I try not to use my claws - clap, clap.” I pointed at Pentious with an expectant look, still distrusting of him.

“My name's Sir Pentious - clap, clap - I like to build - clap, clap - and despite my stupid Egg Bois, I think I'm very skilled - clap, clap.” The three of us looked at Angel, the one that was left to play the game.

He boredly looked up from his phone and grumbled, “This is stupid.”

“This is not stupid - clap, clap - it's just the game - clap, clap - Y/N and Sir Pentious did it well, so now please try to do the same - clap, clap.” Charlie sang, hoping to keep this from falling apart. Angel was never particularly interested in redemption itself, maybe it was the free room and food, because, and I quote, crack is expensive.

“I'm too sober for this.” He complained, rubbing his face with one of his hands.

“Well, get used to it and learn how to play,” I began, which Vaggie finished with, “This is gonna be your whole day - clap, clap.”

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

This was hilarious.

I had to purse my lips to keep from laughing because this is the best thing I've ever seen since Alastor's commercial. Angel was wearing a trench coat and a hat and roleplaying a crack dealer, while Pentious was wearing white and eating a lollipop. Oh, if only I could get this on video.

“Oh, I'm a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs. Now where's an innocent kid I can sell crack to?” Angel read. My God, the script was garbage, but it's so garbage that it's actually good. “Wow! Who wrote this?”

“It's great, right?” Of course it was Charlie.

“I'm telling you, you're no Homer, but it's really funny.” I snickered, drawing my bottom lip between my teeth and rubbing my jaw to hide the chuckles escaping my mouth. My phone pinged in my pocket and I took it out, seeing the notification from Carmilla. Damn it, I forgot to text her.

Are you alright corazòn?