#i got him to promise me he'll eat tonight but he's only going to after my mom leaves

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny can i order banana bread with hard lemonade with max please. make it spicy. make it nasty. make it sloppy. make it fucking filthy😩😩 i fucking love you and all your works and i trust you with baking and cooking

the bakery menu

want to order something? then browse the menu to see what we have! as for this order, i hope that there's enough spice in this for you! i ended up writing this a little stoned, so i hope everything turned out okay!!

banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

cw: smut/pwp, possessive behavior, recreational drug use (weed), reference to smoking & drinking, dom!max, counter/kitchen sex, high sex

you liked parties. maybe, not all the time. but once in a while there was nothing like being surrounded by people and drinking the night away before you slinked off to bed to nurse the eventual hangover. max didn't mind that you went out partying. he trusted you to not do anything extremely stupid that would hurt you or your relationship.

there was one rule, no hard drugs. neither of you needed the trouble that came with too much of a mind altering substance. even if he let you go out to party, he still worried about you when he couldn't go with you. so for your best interest, no drugs.

but there you were, seated on top of the counter in max's kitchen while he dutifully made you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you were still in your party clothes with one of his expensive jackets around your shoulders. you claimed that you were cold. you kicked your legs against the cabinets under you.

you giggled a little.

he handed it to you on a plate and said, "eat." before he grabbed a (plastic) cup from the cupboard above the sink and filled it full of water. he handed it to you, "drink. slowly." then rested against the counter, keeping a stern eye on you.

his blue eyes were piercing as he made sure that you did what he said. you already caused enough trouble tonight. from what your friends told him when they brought you home, you had a few too many puffs of a joint. max didn't think that weed was the devil, but he didn't want you doing anything reckless without him.

as a result he had his very stoned girlfriend seated on the counter and happily eat a pb&j sandwich. he then got closer and rubbed your bare knee. he leaned in and licked a speck of jelly on the corner of your mouth.

he said softly, "you have to be a good girl for me. listen and behave. i know it's tempting to want to be like the others, but i need to keep you safe. what would happen if you took too much and someone tried to hurt you?" he kissed you on the lips, tasting the sweetness of your late night snack on your lips.

"i was fine, maxie." you beamed as you felt his kisses pepper your face. you giggled and squirmed, it was cute. you only called him maxie when you were very intoxicated.

he felt a curl of possessiveness in his gut as he touched your arms. you looked so good in his clothes. maybe next time you go out, he'll make you wear a little reminder of him.

"my poor treasure.' he said, "you just have to be the life of the party. now, is there anything else you took?"

you shook your head, "nope. nothing else, i promise. i felt too giggly after the joint and then i ended up back home. but, honestly, maxie... i want you."

he chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair, "oh i bet. i bet you thought about me on the ride home. you thought about my cock inside of you, i bet if left to your own devices you would've made a mess of the seat of your friend's car." he pushed up the skirt of the 'slutty' dress you wore that night.

you blushed and wanted to hide your face, which only made max chuckle. he pushed the skirt up further until your pretty blue underwear was on display for him.

he licked his lips, "tell me when to stop." he wanted to make sure that you weren't too high to know what was going on. he wasn't a monster.

you nodded and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. you said softly, "give it all to me, maxie." and kissed his ear before you fell apart in giggles. you leaned up against the cabinets and let max take off your panties. he left them dangling on your left ankle.

"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said honestly, he briefly looked to you and licked his lips.

you watched him take his cock out of his sweatpants, he could see you were already so hot all over. he spread your legs further as he got closer in between them.

his cock was decently sized, nothing to be scared of. nothing that would hurt you if he tried to jam it in. you knew the fantasy was a large cock, but you had you heard stories of bruised cervixes that max was just the right fit for you.

he braced his hands on either side of you on the counter as he slid his cock into your sweet pussy. it wasn't a painfully slow insertion, but when he got his cock to the root. he felt a sense of relief at the feeling of you.

he kissed at your face as he thrusted in and out of you. the tip barely out before he slid back in. he groaned through the kisses that he peppered your face with.

"mmm, that's it." he said, "you feel so good, my treasure. how's that head of yours?" he asked as he thrusted up into you harder. it was quick and hard rhythm.

you felt on cloud nine, with the two shots of vodka, all that weed and now the heightened feeling of having sex all made your head race with thoughts of nothing. everything kind of blended together in your mind.

you held onto his shoulders, your fists tied up in the shoulders of his white t-shirt. you were breathing heavily and felt your core throb. you whined, "max, ah. fuck. i couldn't stop thinking about you on the ride home. i was so fuckin' horny." you whined.

you got horny when you smoked, most would devour a pizza. you'd do that with ease but also want to be fucked until you were a fucked out pile of goo on the bed until you reformed into a human in the morning.

"oh yeah, did you look at photos of me?"

"yes, maxie." you purred.

"were they safe photos?" he asked as he leaned even more up against you. letting him get even closer to you. as if he wasn't already in your personal space.

you giggled, "of course! i didn't want to show my friends what you're packing down there." you had an assortment of nudes from him as he did for you.

he kissed at the nape of your neck, your thighs tightened around his waist as he bullied his cock into you. you were perfect like this, submissive like a little lamb. he chuckled, "good, don't want to cause an incident."

he continued to fuck you on top of the granite countertop in the kitchen. his thrusts were fast and it made you moan loudly against him. you felt your heart thump wildly in your chest.

it all felt so good. you clutched onto his t-shirt as he fucked you rapidly, "please, maxie."

"cum for me, treasure. i know you need it." he whispered in your ear as he continued to move.

you kicked out your legs a little as you came, your noise was high pitched but yet so sweet. it was painfully cute when you did it. it made him hot all over. you felt painfully good.

"good girl."

you held onto him tightly as he battered your pussy with a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you. you panted against his shoulder and clung to him tightly.

he said sweet nothings to you both in english and dutch which made you feel like jelly. you leaned up against him as he finished inside of you with a rough groan.

"my treasure." he purred as he slowed down to a stop. he held you for a moment, feeling your heavy breathing against his shoulder.

"maxie." you purred, still hot all over. the weed was still in your system.

he pulled out of you and tucked his cock back into his sweatpants. he admired the bit of cum that leaked out of your poor cunt. it eased any possessiveness in his mind, relaxed him that he was able to make his beloved girlfriend feel good.

"c'mon, finish that water and we'll get you to bed." he patted your thigh before he pulled your pretty panties back up over your hips.

you nodded softly before you carefully got a hold of the cup and finished the rest of the water quickly. you could be good, for once!

-

the following week, max was being nice and helping you put your strappy sandals before you went out for the evening with some of the other partners of drivers.

when he got up from the floor, he reached over down the couch and grabbed a windbreaker jacket with his team, name and number on it. he put it on you before he zipped it up to the top, effectively hiding the suggestive outfit you were wearing.

he patted your shoulders and kissed your forehead before he said, "there, perfect. now remember, no drugs. okay?" he kissed you again, "you're going to be good for me?"

you nodded, "always max. but i am tempted to be bad again. if that means you'll fuck me on the counter again."

max smiled as he tapped your nose, his face close to you, "next time i won't be so generous. if you come home to me high again, i'm not going to be as nice."

you smiled at him, "then i'll be good then." you got up from the couch and embraced your boyfriend. you gave him a kiss on the cheek and felt safe in his arms for a moment, "no weed, no nothing."

"good, that's what i like to hear. now you for have fun, treasure." he kissed your cheek. he walked you to the front door before he saw you out. when he closed the door once you left, he palmed himself through his sweatpants at the thought of you.

he walked to the bedroom and searched in the back of the closet. he pulled out a pair of leather cuffs and a blindfold. he walked back to the bed casually and placed them down softly.

just in case you decided to misbehave again <3

[junkissed]

drenched

member — junhui x f reader  genre — smut word count — 2.4k  synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)

if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.

practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.

most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.

it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.

jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.

of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.

tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.

the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.

you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.

with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.

he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.

you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.

the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.

god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.

okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?

but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.

or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.

if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you. 

so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.

he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.

he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.

even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.

you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy. 

the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.

you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.

you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.

the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger. 

this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.

it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.

he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.

he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book. 

your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.

he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.

with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.

he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.

it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.

he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.

he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[gguk-n]

Hello! I would like to ask a Latina reader with bf Max where is Christmas’s and her aunts keeps asking her where the boyfriend at and why she doesn’t have a boyfriend until max shows up and greets everyone, also can we make her cousins fans of f1, can everything be based in Mexico? Please wand thank you, this is my first request and I’m kinda excited, I love your writing! ❤️

Thank you for the love!! Google translated Spanish

Imaginary Boyfriend

{Reader's POV}

If you asked my mother if I had a boyfriend, she would say that I was lying to stop her from setting me up with the nice men who were looking to get married. But really, I did have a boyfriend. It's just that my boyfriend had to travel a lot for work and our schedule's never matched.

It had been a while since I had been home for Christmas, having spent most of my time slaving away at my job. "mi nieto, I'm getting old. You should come visit soon with your boyfriend for Christmas" my abuela suggested. "I will try this year, prometo" I promised her. I could hear my parents laughing in the background.

"Maxie, my abuela wants to meet you" I said playing with his fingers one day. "Really?" he asked. "Yup" I smiled. "Can't wait.....so when are we going?" he asked almost bouncing. "Christmas" I replied. "Can't wait to eat delicious food" he said fist bumping the air.

After the season end, we packed our bags and I took a few weeks off and we were back at my home. Max would be flying in a day later since he had some work at RedBull head quarters. I just had to survive one day with all the nagging. Then it would stop forever, once they meet Max.

When I got home, "Where's that boyfriend of yours?" my mother teased. "He has work, he'll be here tomorrow" I said. "It's ok to be single, just don't live in fantasy land" my father told me. I just shrugged and greeted my abuela who was reading the news paper. My abuela was the only one who understood that my boyfriend had work and would be here the next day. "The poor girl is tired get her food, she said she'll bring her boyfriend. Mi nieto never lies" she defended me like she always did growing up. I kissed her cheek and went up to get changed.

My aunts weren't any better. Their questions were relentless. "Where's that boyfriend of yours?" my father's sister asked. "He'll be here soon" I replied with a smile. I heard someone whisper about how I always said I had a boyfriend but they had never seen or heard from him. "I can set you up with my neighbour's son, he just started his own business, great kid" my mother's sister said patting my back. "No thank you, that would be cheating" I explained. She turned her nose up and walked away annoyed. I think I would've popped a nerve had Max not walked in the moment he did. He threaded the crowd of people to find me and gave me a hug and kissed my forehead. "How'd you get in?" I asked laughing. "You're cousins" he said pointing at the group of teenagers who had opened the door for him. "I think I would've committed a felony if you didn't come now" I whispered breathing his scent in. The room had gone silent. My abuela walked up to Max with her walking stick, "You must be Max, mi angel talks about you a lot" she said. My cheeks were red and Max smiled and greeted her. She gave Max a hug. He was soon surrounded by my relatives who wanted to make sure I didn't just pay him to be here.

My cousins looked like they wanted to ask both Max and I something but didn't. Max had bought gifts for everyone which we distributed after a while. When it was my cousin's turn, "You're Max Verstappen, right?" he asked. "yes" Max nodded. "No way!! My cousin's dating a Formula One champion" he shouted drawing attention to us for the second time tonight. The room had gone silent. My family wasn't huge on motor sports, being football fans themselves. But they knew what Formula One was because of Ayrton Senna.

The younger kids surrounded Max asking for pictures and autographs while I was taken away by my mother and aunts, "Why did you tell us?" my mother asked. "You never asked" I stated. She face palmed herself, "this is stuff you tell, I don't need to ask" she said. "You're dating a rich and famous athlete and you didn't tell us?" my mother's sister prodded. "It never came up in conversation. Plus, I make my own money, I don't need Max's" I said. "yeah we know, but having a rich man helps" my father's sister shook her head. "At least now I can stop worrying about you, make sure you marry him though" my mother laughed patting my back. I was thankfully able to escape them.

My abuela was sat watching everyone like always, I sat next to her. "You must miss abuelo" I said. "oh, I do, every minute of everyday" she sighed. "I miss him too. He would've loved Max" I said. "I know, that's why I know he's a good choice" she said. I smiled hugging her. "I miss you too abuela when I'm away" I said still hugging her. "I miss mi nieto too" she said pecking my cheek. "He's a catch, reminds me of your abuelo when he was younger." she smiled fondly. "Whether you marry him or not, I hope you two are happy for the time you two are together. Whether life or death tears you apart, I hope your love never dies" she said. "That's the best blessing I could've gotten" I smiled. "I always pray only for good things for you" my abuela said wrapping me in a hug. Max had finally freed himself of the crowd and was standing in front of us. "Take care of her" my abuela said placing my hand in his. "If you hurt her, I'll beat you up with this stick" she said holding up her walking stick. Max gulped hard and nodded. "Bend down" she told Max, he did. She pressed a kiss on his forehead. "Now you're my grandson too" she stated patting his hand. I saw tears well up in his eyes.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo NSFW Week 2023 Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Day 6: Rimming

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Oral Sex (f. Receiving), Rimming, Car Sex, Age Gap (Gojo almost 40, reader in 20s)

Summary: Satoru loves being intimate with his girlfriend. Problem is, he'll ruin each and every plan just to be with her.

❤︎ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❤︎

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Satoru, now?” You ask him between kisses. The way his lips feel on yours drive you wild, especially when he kisses you with such desperation. You just got in the car to go out, you have a very special dinner reservation. Tonight is the only night that you’re able to go out like this since your boyfriend’s daughter is staying with her mother. 

He doesn’t answer, instead his lips land on yours again and he deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip before entering your mouth. You never expected for him to have such a high sex drive, especially since he’s slightly older than you. The man is almost forty and he tries to fuck you every chance he gets. The honeymoon stage in your relationship is way past over, so it’s nice to see that he still wants you so badly, however it’s a little much sometimes. 

His tongue presses against yours, while his hands trail down your silk dress. His fingers reach the hem of your dress, and you feel his touch under your dress. His tongue rolls around yours as you feel his finger hook under your panty. When you pull away, a string of saliva connects your lips. You feel your face hot, matching the temperature of your body, “We have a reservation. We can do this after.”

“Need you so bad right now, baby. Need my dessert.” He says, and you’re trying your best to remain your composure. You won’t be able to go to this restaurant if you miss your reservation. It’s rare the nights that you have off, whether it’d be from work or from his kid. Maybe that’s why he’s trying to seize this opportunity. Neither of you are too tired, and he’s so fucking horny.

“Can’t ruin my makeup, Satoru.” You tell him, hoping that it’ll get him to stop. He keeps kissing you though, his fingers toying with your cunt over your panties. He looks so good, your lipstick all over his face and you can only imagine the mess that’s on your face right at this second.

“Let me eat you out, baby. Won’t make a mess, I promise.” He says, and you bite down on your lip. You’re not sure how he wants to do it, considering how uncomfortable it’d be in the front of the car. 

“It’s uncomfortable here, baby.” You respond, hoping that he’ll drop it. He’s gotten you riled up but you try to think of your reservation. He grabs your thighs, and he’s moving your legs over the console, spreading them apart. He’s licking his lips as he lifts up your dress.

“Just a quick taste, promise.” He says, dipping his head to kiss your thighs up to your panties. He pushes your panties to the side and begins to kiss your folds.

His tongue licks up your cunt, and he looks up at you with mischievous eyes. You’re thinking about your reservation, but his mouth begins to suck on your clit and your mind definitely forgets about any other worry. Your hand begins to run through his white hair while you begin to enjoy what’s happening. It’s his dessert but you enjoy it more than he does.

You swear you’re in heaven when he stops sucking on your clit, his tongue running through your folds. His thumb begins to play with your clit while his tongue teases your hole. You’re trying your best to not encourage him, and to not moan in the car since you’re in the driveway– You don’t want to risk the neighbors looking out and watching as your boyfriend eats you out.

“Fuck, Satoru–” You moan. His tongue enters your hole, his thumb playing with your clit. He swirls his tongue around, and his thumb begins to play with your clit. Oh it’s too much. He’s humming, showing you how much he’s enjoying this, and the vibrations that translate through his tongue are adding more to the pleasure.

You never thought that dating an older man would be this enjoyable. Satoru loves having his tongue on you at all times, giving you as much pleasure as he can give you. When you’re alone, you find yourself screaming his name from the top of your lungs.

You’re so close to finishing, and you want to make this fast. You’re so close, his name leaving your lips over and over again in a soft whisper. And then he stops. He takes his tongue out and stops playing with your clit. You whine, and you hear him chuckle,

“Thought you were in a rush to get to the restaurant.” And before you can tell him off, you feel his tongue back on your cunt, but it goes down to your other hole. His tongue is flat on your asshole and he’s moving back and forth. 

Of course he wants to do this now of all times. His thumb goes back to toying with your clit. His lips kiss your asshole a couple of times before he points his tongue and softly penetrates the hole, and you slap your hand over your mouth. 

Your orgasm is slowly taking over you as the tip of his tongue moves in and out of you. He finally takes it out and he focuses on licking your hole. He hears his name muffled as your thighs begin to come together as your orgasm slowly takes over you.

Your legs spasm as you finally reach your climax. His lips kiss your asshole a couple more times before his head appears again. There’s a smile on his face as you adjust yourself in your seat. He tries to lean in for a kiss but you put your hand up to stop him. 

“You just ate my ass, Satoru. Have some decorum.”

[wolfofcelestia]

One of my last reblogs got me thinking about this so here is

How all four Zaynes + Sylus would treat you for low iron

Warnings: mentions of hunting, blood, suspicious food and drink. Everything aside from Doctor Zayne's section is not rooted in reality so don't take this as medical advice. If you feel tired all the time, go ask your doctor about it and get a blood test. Trust me, you're not supposed to be tired all the time.

Doctor Zayne

By the book treatments. You'll get iron pills and recommendations for iron-rich foods. If your stomach can't handle the pills, he might recommend iron infusions, all supervised by medical personnel. On his free nights, he'd take you out to dinner or cook for you to make sure you eat iron-rich foods, even if it's only in his presence

Dawnbreaker

He'd repeatedly remind you to rely on him. Just stay in bed, he'll take care of the rest

In his world, everything you need to live is packaged in nutrient drinks or in pills, so he'd gather all these less than tasty nutrient drinks and pills but he'd also go to the outskirts of town, where the wild animals have taken over a part of a forest. They don't entirely live in harmony with the wanderers there. Some say they're no longer animals, but meat is meat, and only fresh meat will do for his beloved, especially when she's sick

He'd come home with freshly butchered meat, and the blood from the meat in large bottles, hoping she'd be able to get some benefit from drinking such a valuable and rare fluid

Foreseer

He wouldn't treat you. You don't belong in the tower. You'll only get sicker here.

"Go back to your people. Only they can help you. I have no means or the experience to cure you here."

But you won't leave. Stubborn, even in the face of an illness that makes you weaker and weaker by the day. But you've experienced this before. It's nothing new

Soon, you and Jas annoy him enough to convince him wild game is actually high in iron and, with his powers, he'd easily be able to hunt one near the tower

It would be his first meal with someone. A warm, hearty meal with the girl he's seen his other selves eat with so many times before

Master of Fate

"Close your eyes and hold my hands. Imagine my energy flowing out of my body, crossing over our hands like a bridge, and being absorbed into your body. Take as much as you need."

The Master of Fate is also a master of ancient energy magic, so something like mana or energy transfer would be easy for him if you're ill or need a boost

This won't fix the cause of your low energy of course, but this would be a start to get you on your feet

Once you have enough energy to travel down the mountain, he'd bring you to a healer, someone who works with and sells all sorts of dried herbs and Chinese medicines

Protest all you want but these bitter, smelly concoctions are going into your mouth one way or another. He'd laugh at your reaction and call you a child for making a fuss about taking your medicine, and he'd promise you a sugary treat if you take it like a good girl

Sylus

"Are you ignoring Zayne's advice again? You're really putting him through his paces, huh? I'd have my own personal doctor take a look at you but I have a feeling you'd listen to him even less. Well, if it's iron you need, then tonight we'll have steak. And we'll have steak for as many nights as you like after that. I'll have the chef work on a meal plan with you."

With your steak dinners, he'd offer you a particular red wine. It tastes a little sharper, a little richer... The way he watches so carefully when you take a drink, and the way he smiles at you when you swallow... You'd be suspicious about it, if it weren't for the fact that you did in fact feel much better after each meal

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3: [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Oral (M and F receiving), Phone sex, Dream sex, P in V sex, a sprinkle of SoftDom!Carmy at Reader's request, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. "I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

It was a foggy day, the cold of Chicago promised a quiet afternoon with few customers. Sydney showed up at the store and invited you to family, saying something about a surprise for Carmy. You quickly closed up and followed her back to the restaurant. Most of the staff knew you by now; Tina cupped your face lovingly, Nat hugged you, and Richie showed you to your seat. Everyone was there except Carmy. 

"What's going on?" you asked Nat in a whisper. 

"He didn't tell you? Of course he didn't tell you," she rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "It's his birthday," she said simply.

"Oh!"

You felt a weight settle in your stomach. How could you not know? You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your nervousness and stopping yourself from crying at the same time. 

"Oh, sweetie," Nat put her arm around you. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. He doesn't tell anyone. The only reason I know is because I'm his sister. We don't do presents or candles or sing because of all the- Well, you know," she gestured vaguely. You nodded. 

You didn't know the whole story but Carmy had let you know bits and pieces of his unstable childhood and the fraught relationship with his Mom, from way before Mike died.

"But Syd wanted to cook something nice for him and Marcus wanted to test a cake recipe, so," she shrugged. You managed a smile. "He'll be happy to see you," she squeezed you to her side.

"Okay, everyone start eating and act fucking normal," Richie bellowed. "We don't want the birthday boy to feel ambushed or whatever. We're having a nice meal, with our neighbor, and there's a random ass cake here for absolutely no reason, okay?"

"Your ass is random, man!" Marcus replied from the other side of the table, cutting slices of what looked like tres leches cake. Fak chuckled between forkfuls of salad.

Sydney had already started passing plates around, it was lamb and salad and it smelled delicious.

"Thanks for inviting me," you told her once she got to you. 

"I mean, you're practically family, right?" she smiled.

By the time Carmy appeared, you were all eating and talking, and he could sneak in and sit by your side almost unnoticed. 

"What's all this?" he asked, looking frantically around the room.

"They asked me to come over for family," you smiled innocently. "It's very good," you added pointing at your plate. 

"No, I mean-" he hesitated, his eyes kept searching for Nat. She was leaning against the door frame and when she saw Carmy, she put her fingers to the corners of her lips and pushed them up, to shape a smile. 'Be happy, okay?' she mouthed.

Carmy nodded, then looked down, a relieved smirk curving his lips. He tried to relax, leaning back on his seat and placing an arm behind your chair. He took the plate Richie brought him and started eating with gusto. 

"So, you know?" he asked after a while. 

"No presents, no candles, no singing," you repeated, knowing it would calm his anxiety a little. "I want to make a suggestion though."

Carmy turned his head quickly. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," you smiled mischievously. "I think this cake should be like a staple at the restaurant. No way I'm waiting for your next birthday to have it again."

Carmy laughed. After his first bite of the cake he had to agree. "That's fire," he hummed. 

His face looked bright and lovely. Your hand didn't leave his thigh for the rest of the meal. 

You leaned against Carmy's side; he kissed the top of your head and sighed, burying the two of you deeper into the cushions of the sofa. It had been a beautiful day. With his arms around you, you asked him.

"Why don't you like presents on your birthday?"

"Uh- I'm not sure," he replied honestly. His fingers drew pretty shapes on your shoulder. "I guess if you're not expecting anything then you can't be disappointed, right?" 

"I get that," you said after a while. "I just think it's a waste that I sell vintage, and you love vintage, and you don't ask for presents, you know?" you added playfully.

He smiled. "I guess. I think I like it better when it's on a random day, for no reason at all."

"Yeah," you nodded. "Can I do something nice for you, though? Just because I want to, not because it's your birthday," you clarified.

He turned to face you. "Uh- Okay."

You disentangled from his embrace and knelt between his legs on the floor . He tilted his head in confusion. You smiled and grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, making a show of putting your hair in a ponytail. Carmy's eyes widened when your hands ran up and down his thighs, slow, sensual motions that sent shivers up his spine. 

"You don't have to-" he started protesting.

"I want to," you said.

It had come up a couple of times. You'd offer to reciprocate after he'd eaten you out and he would refuse, saying he would rather be inside you. With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. 

"I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

He seemed torn, one of his hands reaching to caress yours.

"You're absolutely free to say no. There's other ways we can have fun but don't say no just because you feel you don't deserve it, Carm. You do. I promise," you said earnestly. 

He bent over to kiss you fiercely. "Alright. Yes. Please," he said.

You moved slowly, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more erratic. You pulled his trousers down, towards you, and started touching his thighs gently, raking your fingers through the coarse hair that went down his stomach, palming at the growing bulge over his boxers.

"Uh-" Carmy swallowed. "I have never- So if I don't last just-"

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured him. "Listen, if you last five seconds but you enjoy it, then I'm happy." 

He laughed at that and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll aim for six then," he quipped.

You removed his boxers carefully, his cock was already hard. He groaned when your breath touched his bare skin. You suspected he was right, he wasn't going to last, so you tried to make it worth his while. 

You started by kissing his head, licking the drop of precum in a quick flick of your tongue. It made him shudder with pleasure - and it made you feel powerful, the effect you had on him.

"Let me know if there's something you don't like," you said, your right hand closing loosely around his shaft. He nodded. He was hardly moving and his hands were fisting the cushions of the sofa. "You need to breathe, Carm," you reminded him, your voice had turned husky. You took one of his hands and placed it on your head, his fingers intertwined around your ponytail and you heard him exhale. "Good."

You leaned forward again, kissing around his head, making the kisses open mouthed as you went, letting him get accustomed to the feeling of your lips on him. Your hand started pumping his length, softly, no rhythm to it yet, more a caress than anything.

"You're going to fucking kill me," he rasped, his hand holding tighter to your hair, loosening the ponytail when he massaged your scalp. You moaned against his skin, which made him writhe his hips in return. 

You opened your mouth, taking the first couple of inches of him. You couldn't deep throat, but he didn't seem to mind- your hand was pumping and making up for the rest of his length. He moaned and it made your pussy tingle. 

"You sound so pretty, Carmy," you praised. He chuckled, out of breath. 

You licked the length of his shaft, wetting it enough to help your hand glide easier. You took him again, a little deeper this time, not far enough to make you gag, just enough that he threw his head back in pleasure, the veins of his neck visibly pulsing and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried in vain to breathe normally. It was all quick gasps and the occasional groan. That was enough teasing, you decided.

You started going back and forth, the rhythm of your mouth echoed with your right hand, the left rested on his knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding tight.

"Please, don't- don't stop," he begged. His face was downwards now, looking you straight in the eye, his pupils were blown and his mouth hung open. "It feels so fucking good. Please, please..."

You sped up, hollowing out your cheeks, moving your left hand so that you were sinking your nails into the muscle of his tattooed forearm. Your underwear was wet with arousal and the sounds he made weren't helping, you pressed your thighs together to get some relief and ended up moaning on his cock.

"Holy fucking shit," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna-"

You felt him twitch inside your mouth, every muscle in his body growing tense. He groaned over and over, going quieter each time, letting go completely. Salt covered your tongue in spurts and you did your best to swallow most of it, a little bit of it fell down the corner of your mouth. You slowed down, pumping him until he pulled you off his softening cock, mumbling something about "so good" and "too much". His hand let go of your hair and cupped your face, his eyes were glazed over and blissed out, a loving look to his sweaty face. 

"So fucking good," he managed to say in an exhale. His thumb cleaned the drop of cum off your chin - so carefully, so gently that it warmed your insides. "You're beautiful."

You laughed in disbelief but then you remembered how gorgeous he looked when he emerged from in between your thighs, half of his face completely wet, a turned on blush on his cheeks...

He pulled you up on his lap and kissed you senseless, his tongue caressing your tired lips, humming contentedly into you. You were both a mess: him naked from the waist down, you with your hair completely undone and your underwear soaked.

"Best birthday I've ever had," he said against your lips, his forehead to yours. "Thank you." 

You smiled. "You're welcome. Happy birthday, Carmy." 

~

You had slowly gotten used to sleeping in a bed that smelled like Carmy. Whether it was at your place or his, even if the sheets on his side were cold they still had a hint of salt, smoke, and his expensive aftershave. 

"Get a fucking grip," you reprimanded yourself in a low voice. 

Call me when you get home? 

You sent the text before you could chicken out. He wouldn't leave the restaurant for another hour or so, so you settled on the hotel room bed, the unfamiliar cream colored covers suffocating, the sound of a movie on the TV only making you more antsy. 

When the phone rang, it was a little before midnight. You were comfortable and warm - and completely awake.

"Hey, you okay?" Carmy's voice sounded raspy on the phone. 

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just- I couldn't sleep and-" you chuckled without a hint of humor. It felt silly: it was an overnight trip, you were staying at a nice hotel, and you couldn't sleep because Carmy wasn't there. It was so fucking silly. "Never mind. I'm okay, it's late. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Hey!" Carmy stopped you from hanging up. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"Fuck," you looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. Nothing bad happened. Actually, the estate sale went great. Uh. This lady had a big collection of dresses, fifties and sixties, beautiful pieces. And shoes! Just tons of them, barely used, Gucci and shit."

"And you got them?" Carmy asked, you could almost hear him frowning.

"Yeah! It's all good stuff and I think it will sell well too."

"That's good," he said, his tone soothing. "So, what's wrong?"

"Uh- I don't know," you repeated. "I came back to the hotel and it was so- just so fucking quiet and it feels wrong, you know?"

Carmy hummed in agreement. 

"I get it," he said after a beat. "When I got here, uh, the apartment was very fucking quiet too. Creeped me out a bit."

You sighed. Maybe it wasn't so silly.

"It helps, though," you said after a beat. "Talking with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "How was your day?"

"It was absolute shit," he replied.

"Too bad I'm not there to fuck about it," you said. 

Sometimes, when Carmy's day was too bad to even talk about, you would fuck - hard and fast - and then talk about it. Hence, fuck about it. 

Carmy chuckled. "Yeah," you could hear him exhale as he fell heavily on the couch or the bed. "That would actually help a lot."

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach flip a little. "Um, Carm?"

"Mmm?"

"I know you said you hadn't been with anyone before me-" you prompted. "Does that mean you never had phone sex either?"

He coughed loudly on the other side of the line. You pictured him choking on his own cigarette smoke, a deep blush to his cheeks. 

"Sorry?" he asked after a moment.

"I mean that we can still fuck about it... If you want," you offered. "You know, you can say what you would like to do to me, or maybe tell me what I should do... That sort of thing."

"Uh," he hesitated. "I do- I'd like to try but I- I'm not good at playing pretend, you know? Never been, not even as a kid."

"If I do the talking? Would that be better?" 

"Maybe?" his voice sounded ragged but not just from coughing. 

"I've never, uh, taken the lead before but that would, like, even out the playing field, right?" you reasoned, your heart beating faster.

"What- what would that be like?" 

"I could tell you about the nice pajamas I'm wearing," you lowered your voice. "The blue ones?"

"With the shorts and the little bows?" Carmy asked. "You look good in those..."

You opened your legs, your free hand playing with the elastic of your shorts. 

"I wish you would take them off for me, Carm. I wish you would touch me like only you know how. I want your fingers inside me," he cleared his throat on the other side of the line. "Would you like to do that?"

"Yes," his voice was breathy, "I would, yes."

"I want you to do something for me, Carmy," you started teasing between your legs over the fabric of your shorts. "Remember when we first fucked? You closed your eyes and touched yourself to get hard again. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah," you could barely hear his intake of breath and it still made you shiver.

"You looked so fucking hot, I still think about it when I finger myself," you confessed. You could picture him clearly, the veins of his arms and neck bulging, his head thrown back.

"Shit..." he rasped.

"Can you hold the phone close, Carm? I want to hear you while you touch your cock."

"I want to hear you too... Ah, fuck!"

The sound made you curl your toes with anticipation. You got your hand inside your underwear and traced lines on your folds, caressing slowly.

"I'm already so wet," you said. "Are you hard for me, Carmy?"

"So fucking hard," he drawled and you moaned.

"What would you like me to do?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "If I was there, Carm, what would you like me to do?"

"Ri- Ride me," he managed. 

His breathing was a quick staccato that made your hand pick up speed, spreading wetness around your clit. You sat up on the bed, imagined Carmy underneath you, holding tight to your hips, your hands on his sculpted chest.

"How? How do you want me to- oh, God- ride you?"

"Just- hard," he groaned but it was a muffled sound, he was holding back. 

"Carm..."

"I want you to fucking wreck me," he blurted out.

If he felt like he had fucked up, like he had done something terribly wrong at the restaurant, he liked it to hurt a little, you knew that by now. Maybe the rhythm was punishing, maybe it was way too fast, maybe you denied him his orgasm for a while. Anyway, he was atoning. 

"I want you to touch you like I would, Carmy," you said. "Can you do that for me? Put lube on your hand, hold your cock tight, and go as fast as you can, okay?"

"Yes," it was barely a whisper. But suddenly you could listen - deep growls from way within his chest, rhythmic gasps that grew quicker and quicker. You struggled to catch up with him, your middle and ring fingers pumped in and out of you in tandem with his sounds. 

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. "I can hear it. Jesus Christ."

"It's not the same without you, Carm," you said honestly. Your hand was wet to the palm but you still wanted that fullness only he could make you feel. "I need you inside me, I need you."

"Oh, fuck!"

He got quiet for a second, then groaned a few times, your pussy clenching while he did. You were so close. He sighed into the speaker, relieved and spent - you wanted to be happy for him but you were still on the edge and desperate for release. You kept moaning.

"Have you come?" Carmy asked.

"Not yet," you managed to say.

"Shit."

"I'm close though. Just stay on the line, please."

You could feel it slipping out of your grasp. It wasn't enough to have him listen, you needed something to hold on to. You let out a needy whine.

He read your mind, and in that fucked out voice he said: "That was- holy shit- that was so, so fucking hot. You made me come and you didn't even touch me," you fluttered against your fingers. "Can’t believe you're mine. You're my good girl."

He had never called you that. That was it. The tension within you snapped and you could breathe again. Eyes shut and forehead to the duvet, you could almost feel Carmy's hands touching up your back, tickling at your sides. You let out a shaky laugh.

"Fuck, Carmy. Fuck," you repeated, something warm settling in your belly. 

"You okay?" he said. You had dropped the phone and you heard him far away.

You wiped your hand on your hip and settled back on the bed, tired and a little sweaty. You'd have to shower again in the morning but you found you didn't care right now.

"I'm okay," you replied when you could pick up your phone. "So okay. You?"

"So okay," he repeated with a chuckle. 

"Okay," you let out a big exhale. "Now tell me about your day."

~

You were at The Bear, it was late at night, the lights were dimmed down and there were no patrons. You turned around and found the place empty - ghostly and quiet. 

"Hello?" No one replied.

Now that you thought of it, you didn't know how you got there - couldn't remember, actually. But Carmy was suddenly there too, hands on his hips, wearing his pristine chef's whites. The blue of his eyes popped with the ambience lighting in a way that felt supernatural.

"Carmy," you called but he didn't move.

"On the table," he said brusquely, pointing with his head at the only piece of furniture left in the restaurant. There was no tablecloth or cutlery on it.

"What?" you asked.

"On the fucking table!" he yelled and you obeyed, sitting quickly on it, facing him.

"What's going on?" you asked.

He laughed - it wasn't his usual laugh, soft and floaty - it was a cruel sound, glass like. 

"What's going on, sweetheart, is that I'm going to fuck you, on this table, until you come three times," he said and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Or until you beg me to stop, whatever happens first."

You didn't say a word, you couldn't: he kissed you violently, biting on your lip and grabbing your throat. 

"Carmy, holy shit! Slow down," you pleaded when you parted to catch your breath. 

He stopped but only to spread your legs wide open, his fingers digging into your thighs forcefully, then going up your skirt. He leaned to whisper in your ear:

"You sure you want that?"

His voice was low, caramel like, delicious. You ran a hand up his chest, fisting white fabric, bringing him closer. 

"Good," he said. His fingers shoved your underwear to the side and teased mercilessly.

"Fuuuck," you whined as he made you melt in his hands. 

He was touching you just right, having you soaked and pliant so fast it left you dizzy. He thrust two fingers inside you and started pumping fast, his thumb circling your clit - you thanked your stars that you had showed him early on where it was. Your moans grew louder and longer.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he asked but it sounded like an order. 

You nodded frantically. 

"Are you gonna let me bend you over this table, fuck your pussy as hard as I want?" 

"Yes, please, fuck," you whined. 

Just before the knot within you could unravel, the bright light of morning rushed through the window and made you squeeze your eyes and cover your face. And suddenly you weren't at The Bear, you were at Carmy's place, warm in his bed. It was Sunday, you remembered.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled. 

Carmy was right next to you, twisting to face you as he woke up too.

The mornings you shared were few and far between, the occasional day off, the days when you had to get up early to take a train for a sale out of town... They were precious, you loved to see Carmy with sleepy eyes, reaching out for you from under the covers. You smiled and stared at him. 

"Morning," you said, feeling a little weird about your dream. 

"Mornin'," he slurred with his eyes closed. "You sleep okay?" 

"Uh-huh," you tried to sound casual. "You?"

"Yeah," you let him pull you in closer, his nose brushed the side of your neck. And his hard on brushed your thigh. 

"Oh!" your heart raced - the one thing that still remained from your dream was the wetness between your legs.

"Shit," Carmy covered his face with his hand. "I'll, uh, I'll take care of it. Don't worry about it."

You cleared your throat nervously. "Actually-"

You didn't know where to begin so you simply grabbed his hand and showed him how wet you were, even through your underwear he could tell. His eyes widened.

"Wh- What- Why?"

"Uh, I dreamt of you," you said simply. 

"What about?" he asked. You shrugged. "I mean, if you liked whatever happened in your dream that much, we could..." he let the offer float. He had that curious look about him.

You bit your lip. It had been good, so good. But it made you feel a little embarrassed about the things that you wanted, what they meant about you.

"We were- Well, you fingered me and- yeah," you hoped he would be satisfied with that. 

"Oh," he sounded a little disappointed but he obliged. "Sure, we can do that." 

He scooted closer still, his hand and the way he moved was gentle and sweet. And completely wrong. You took his wrist and stopped him.

Carmy looked up in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head. "I'll- I'll tell you about my dream but promise me you won't laugh," you pressed your hands on his chest. He nodded solemnly. "Even if we don't end up doing it because it's not your thing just- Don't laugh, okay?"

"I won't," he promised. 

"Okay," you took a deep inhale. "So I dreamt that we were at the restaurant. We were all alone, it was late at night and you- Well, you told me to get on a table and that you would make me come three times," you blushed furiously. "You kissed me and you fingered me. You said you would bend me over on the table and fuck me hard. And then I woke up."

"Shit," Carmy said.

"Yeah."

"Was I- Was I different?" he asked. 

"You were a little mean."

"And you were into it?" nothing about his tone betrayed disgust or revulsion.

"I didn't think I would be, but yeah," you replied honestly. 

Carmy ran a hand through his hair and stared at you for a little bit.

"You know I'm not good at the pretending thing," he said and you nodded. "But I think I can fuck you on the table until you come three times."

You felt like you had the wind knocked out of you. 

Before you knew it, you were both naked, kissing in the middle of his kitchen, his hands under your thighs as he placed you on the table. 

"I'm gonna need you to keep count for me," he said, lowering to his knees between your legs. That was the last thing he said before devouring you.

You knew Carmy was competitive but you didn't know it would extend to a dream version of him. He became laser focused: his only goal was to be a better lover than dream Carmy, make you come undone faster and harder than he ever could. Without preamble, he hooked two fingers inside you, curling non-stop, making you gasp for air. His mouth worked tirelessly licking and sucking at your clit, getting satisfaction every time you pulled at his hair. In minutes, he had you bucking your hips frantically, trying to fuck his face. You screamed and heaved and cursed, grabbing to the edge of the table for dear life. 

"How many?" he demanded once he got up from between your legs, wiping his face clean with his forearm. His voice sounded rough and you could see a glimpse of the cut-throat chef he used to be back in New York. You felt the aftershocks of your orgasm go through you one more time. 

"One," you replied.

He grabbed your hips and brought you down from the table, then flipped you over. You heard the condom wrapper hit the floor, then, immediately felt his breath on the back of your neck as he lined up his cock to your pussy. He wasn't careful before and he wasn't careful now, going all the way inside you in a swift motion. It was pleasure and pain in even measures, it was exactly what you asked for. Your knees trembled underneath you but Carmy held you upright. 

"Holy shit," was all you could say before succumbing to the rhythm of his hips against yours.

It was slow, purposeful. One of his hands played with your nipples while the other pressed on your clit. It was too much. You took the hand on your clit and placed it on your neck instead, remembering the way Carmy had kissed you in the dream, holding you possessively. Your Carmy didn't press at all, he caressed the column of your throat with careful fingers, kissed the side of it with devotion. It made you melt onto the tabletop. The feeling of your bare chest on the wooden surface and the sound of his hips clapping against yours turned you on even more. It took you by surprise when you started fluttering on Carmy's cock, your release almost gentle, a series of soft needy moans the only outer indication that you had come.

When you regained your bearings, your cheek to the table and your ass up in the air, you said with an unsteady voice:

"Two."

One of his hands soothed down your spine, a silent question being asked: Do you still want to go on? Can you do one more? You reached for his hand and squeezed it, using the strength you had left to get off the table and turn to face Carmy. He was a sweaty mess, curls falling on his forehead, red in the face from edging his orgasm to give you three. You didn't think you could love anyone more than you loved him right then.

"Carmy."

"I'm here. I'm right here," he maneuvered you gently to lay on your back over the table, his eyes on yours. You hummed contentedly. He lifted your legs, placing one on each shoulder and giving you a shy smile - you realized he had actually read the sex book you had bought him as a joke. You giggled. He didn't do anything in half measures. 

This time, his motions weren't calculated and cold. The tenderness when he soothed your back and caressed your neck had bled into everything else. His hips stuttered every now and then, his fingers touched your ankles gently, and his eyes were fixed on you. It was perfect. 

"I'm close," you whispered, one of your hands playing with your chest, the other reaching behind you to the edge of the table. You felt weightless. "You can let go, Carmy."

It was all a blur: the swirl of electricity down your body, the beautiful sounds that you made together, and the feeling of him falling on top of you. 

"Shit! I'm sorry I'm crushing you," he mumbled on your skin, his arms flexing as he lifted himself up. You looked up at him and cupped his face, the post-coital glow and the morning light making him look angelic.

"Thank you," you said and he smiled. "It was good, better than I imagined."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Right then, your stomach growled audibly. You covered your face with your hands, mortified. He peeled them off and leaned to nuzzle against your cheek. 

"Pancakes?" he offered in a whisper.

You laughed and turned your head to kiss the tip of his nose. "Yes. Please."

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 4]

[peachetteprice]

Mister Commander | Phillip Graves

Chapter 2 - Tiger Rag

Chapter Summary:

The Collins sit down for a family meal with their new-found guest. Only, he hasn't arrived at the table as of late.

Word count: 3.3K (ish)

CW: Crass language, written by a Brit with no knowledge of Texas...

Sunday was hot. Hotter than hell's boots.

Phillip had been with the Collins - somewhat distanced - for the past week.

Every day, he would go into the woods with Winnie's father with a pocketful of cigarettes and a flask of tequila, and they'd come back in the evening with game, wild hog, deer, rabbit, fish, or any other wild animal they could get their hands on - though, much to their chagrin, Mrs. Collins refused to cook any and all of them. And every evening, as the sun continued its descent behind the hills to the East, Winnie brought an aluminum-tin full of food to Graves' doorstep.

On Sunday, however, there was none of that. Mr. Collins said it was too hot for Phillip to be staying in that 'sauna' and suggested it would be a ripe enough day to have dinner as a collective, Graves included.

Mrs. Collins didn't think herself brave enough to break the news to Winnie, however, so at six - as they took up their seats at the table - Winnie found herself staring at a bare plate and a set of cutlery that had never been there before.

"Momma... are we havin' another guest?"

"Nope. Phillip's eatin' with us tonight." Mr. Collins cleared his throat. "He'll sit there."

Winnie glanced at her father, who was too busy scratching at a rust stain on his fork to notice her ample grievance. Mrs. Collins, however, caught her eye during her round of napkin-passing and surely spotted it.

"Stop with those eyes, Winnie. Phillip Graves is a guest."

She huffed. "Sure. Phillip Graves hasn't once tried to be a guest. Every evening, I walk over to his cabin, and every evening, he slams open his door and grabs his dinner like it was a damn burden for him to even bend down--"

"--You keep those comments in your own head, little miss Collins." Mr. Collins grumbled. It was a terrible grumble, the sort of grumble only a father with waning patience could muster. "Pro'lly is a burden for him to bend down with that shoulder. That's why he's out with me most of the time... gets his mind off the wound, alright. Can't blame him for bein' anti-social."

"Can, and absolutely will for as long as he's--"

"Phillip!" Mrs. Collins exclaimed joyously, wafting a ladle as if it were an Olympic baton. "How nice of ya to join us! Gosh, I didn't even hear ya come in! Take a seat, please, get comfy. It's grilled steak and potatoes on the menu tonight."

Winnie didn't dare look him in the eye. He didn't deserve it. Not after his treatment of her own mother, refusing her cooking until it was too late in the evening to eat it comfortably.

It was too easy to recall her mother's flustered state, scrounging like a rat in a pantry for cutlery and crockery - not forgetting the can of Cola - only for Winnie to bring it to his doorstep as if she was his servant.

As if it wasn't thirty-two steps from his door to their front porch and another twelve to the kitchen.

Even after he sat, she paid him no mind. No attention. Only once did her eyes cross his path, in passing, and as soon as they did, they promised never to meet it again.

"Hot outside, ain't it? Inside, too..." Mr. Collins licked sheepishly at a glass of Scotch.

Winnie, wine.

Graves, beer.

"Sure is." Graves leant against the table.

Winnie felt the wood tilt beneath her elbows - she wrenched both arms into her lap instead.

"Wonderin' where Bonnie is with the food..." Mr. Collins hummed. "Gonna have to move the sheep to the East field at some point... got a Chevy needin' repairs in the barn, too." His lips smacked after every sentence. "You gon' help me with that, Phillip?"

"Bastard, makin' me do all that shit that I don't wanna do..." He scoffed.

Mr. Collins raked with laughter.

Winnie didn't watch it happen, of course, but she heard it - a button popped. Another sliver of Graves' sternum appeared into view, beneath his blue cotton shirt. A sparse number of hairs tickled his chest, though he was mostly bare.

If she didn't have such a kink in her eyebrows, she might have noticed the better half of his looks. The way the evening sun caught his tan. The way it grabbed him by the hollow of his cheeks. The way it caught the strands of blonde in his hair and turned them golden.

"Where's Momma with the food? I'm starvin..." Winnie swallowed half of her wine glass in just two gulps. "Y'know, I can help ya with the sheep, Daddy--"

"--When d'ya need 'em movin' then? Next week?"

Winnie clawed at her table mat. She clobbered a mean silence.

"No rush. Few weeks." Mr. Collins shrugged. He then delved a pinky into his ear canal and gave it a twist. "You say somethin', Winnie? You know I can't hear well out of my right. Those IEDs pack a punch, don't they, Phil?"

"Sure do." He approved.

Winnie watched Graves' chest inflate with a breath - though nothing much above - then, after a few seconds, deflate.

"Doesn't matter, Daddy. I was just... I can help ya with the sheep if you need it."

"Why don't you and Graves do it together? Now, there's a million-dollar idea. Y'ever wrangled sheep before, Phil?"

His groan suggested he had never.

Then, and only then, did Winnie decide to gaze at his face. And, much to her bafflement, he was already watching her right back. Hazel blues, pierced and primed for her stern attitude to dissolve. Even still, he didn't much acknowledge her, for what it was worth. His eyes moved across, up, then somewhat down, before they cast off entirely to the right, where they narrowed with lust.

And, with a tight jaw, he whistled. "Ouch-- Bonnie - those steaks are lookin' fine. God, I've missed your cookin'."

"Who would'a guessed..." Winnie chided, much too suddenly and quietly for anyone to hear, except Graves. Whether he understood what she was referring to at all was beyond her level of care.

The table sparked with conversation once everyone had had their fill.

All four beef steaks had since disappeared, leaving a bloodied puddle of juice on the plate from whence they came. The remaining potatoes had been set aside for potato salad for the next day's lunch, and a mound of grits collected a crust in the bottom of the pan. To set delight along Mrs. Collins' lips (she was never much of a grits connoisseur, having grown up in Georgia), Mr. Collins went about churning spoonful of it into his stomach.

And when he'd finally exhausted the room in his pouch, to the extent of unbuttoning his jeans and making his shirt slack, he stood to help his wife swap the dishes out for dessert.

Chestnut pie - picked straight from the woods. Mrs. Collins hadn't ceased about how perfectly they'd behaved when grinding them down for butter. It was a stunning pie. Caramel brown; it steamed as she segmented it carefully, slice after slice, into equal triangles so as to not spoil anyone's temperament.

It was such a lavish dinner that, as they silently indulged in the woody scent of baked chestnuts and the sharpness of fresh dollopped cream on top, Winnie had forgotten what she'd sworn to herself earlier that evening.

As the spoon hit her tongue, her gaze meandered. Up, up, up, and right to rest on a vein along Graves' forearm. She hadn't known how firm they were - not that it should have been a very common thing to notice - until then, when the sun had dipped beyond its reach and simmered the dining room in all manners of orange.

It made the valleys, the rivers, and the streams of his arms appear taught, free-flowing with blood. The veins coasted about his skin as if they had been eroding him for millenia. When they dipped past his wrist and over the mound of his knuckles, they split into brooks and disappeared along his fingertips.

How a man of his calibre - his age, no doubt - could boast such raw beauty - of such a vexing degree - similar to that of the crests, peaks, troughs, basins, and gorges of her life in Texas, was simply astounding.

So astounding, in fact, that for all of three minutes, Winnie hadn't mouthed a word. Not a peep from her lips until the ambling drone of her father cut through the static, muffled laughter ensued, and her mother asked, as clear as the glass in the greenhouse;

"Phillip. When are you going to get a wife, already? You're eating us outta house and home every time you come 'round."

Winnie was back before she knew it, before she'd even taken her eyes off that one pesky vein on Graves' arm and before she'd even gained control over her eyes and the aching kink in her neck from staring him down for the better half of Al Green's Love and Happiness.

He raised his glass. "It's cause you're a damn fine cook, Bonnie. Can't get away from ya. I love a woman who can fix together steak and grits like it's the last meal she'll ever make."

Winnie smiled. She'd finally clued in, eyes lighting with recognition that wasn't present earlier - and it was best to be genial. "That's momma, for ya. She loves her food."

"Yeah, and it doesn't like my waistline..."

Mr. Collins, naturally, began his tirade that his wife was just as, if not more, beautiful as the day they'd met. Mrs. Collins, on the other hand, perked with laughter and gave him a coy clap across the chest.

Then, for at least forty seconds, maybe longer, the pair of them were cutthroat for the matter of humility. Mr. Collins chided that Mrs. Collins was as dainty as a daisy in a field, which she denied, and Mrs. Collins insisted that Mr. Collins was as dependable as the statue of Adam, which he also denied, and neither seemed to want to relent any time soon.

It was a plain argument, the stuff nobody would tip a pot over.

So they jousted for a while, as Graves and Winnie scraped the last of their pies. In good time, when Mr. and Mrs. Collins had at last come to the conclusion that neither was more or less stunning than the other, did Graves, beneath the commotion, ask;

"You cook much, Winnie?"

For the second time only that evening, Winnie met his gaze. Something inside it felt inviting - if only he had that glint in his eye on the porch last week. Perhaps it was the first time he'd extended an olive branch - it was certainly the first time he'd addressed her solely - but nothing about the depth of his eyes felt insincere, nor disinterested, nor anything malicious of the sort.

It was the kind of gaze that might have liked to be explored.

"No... no, not much, sir." She murmured.

"Sir?" He retorted, light as a feather. And then, with much raucousness, laughed to her father and asked, "You got her to call me sir, Steve? You're that much of a little shit to your own daughter, huh?"

"You're a veteran in my books, Graves," Mr. Collins took a healthy glug of Scotch to wet his throat, even if he had to give it a minute for the burn to settle, "a good woman has to know her manners."

"Manners?" Phillip scoffed.

Winnie slid out a smile, if only for the fact that her father had a smear of cream along his chin. "I know my manners just fine, don't I, Daddy?"

"Do ya?" Graves uttered. He didn't bother to meet her emphatic stare. Instead, he pawed and scraped at the mushed remains of his chesnut pie, wolfing it down like a starved man - as if he hadn't gorged himself on steak and potatoes prior to dessert.

Seconds trickled by as the ever-so-ignorant Mr. Collins turned to Mrs. Collins for a napkin - so that he might wipe the whipped cream from his face - at which point, Graves snuck once more into conversation, with a voice so hushed it could have only been meant for one person, "Might wanna teach a woman to knock a lil' quieter..."

It was the sort of comment her Daddy couldn't have heard.

So, Winnie's gaze flickered up. Not so far up that she met his face - she didn't want to make it the third - but not so far down that her eyes chased that one vein beneath his sleeve. Safe enough between the two extremes that, from the tilt of his chin, she could tell: his eyes were on her.

It seemed, after a while, that service was not over. Pie had been gorged on, sure, but conversation trickled as it had done for hours, with no end in sight. It had been so long at the dinner table that, much to Mrs. Collins' future disagreement, the remaining chesnut pie had lost its warmth, the whipped cream had since deflated and ran liquid, and, even still, nobody had realised the faucet was running from before dinner had initially been brought out.

"You never said, Winnie. What did y'do before comin' back here?" Graves sipped at his Scotch. There was a pool of condensation beside him, that he wouldn't touch with a napkin. If his glass wasn't sliding across the table, he wouldn't drink from it.

"Worked up in Dallas. Lived there, too. Used to be a financial accountant, you know, dealin' with numbers."

Graves stuck a thumb into Steve's face. "Like your Daddy after he retired from the field? You take after him pretty good. Heard ya... heard y'had a boyfriend or somethin' back there, too? Things turn' sour?"

"Not... not sour. Things... just happened." She corrected, stabbing a few asparagus onto her fork. "He tried me, once. Y'know how it is... never turned back after the second time."

"An' he let a pretty lil' thing like you get away?" An eyebrow twitched; he reached for another swig of scotch. Winnie would have said something, perhaps, if his tone wasn't so dismissive, and if he hadn't rushed right along the connotations. "You'll have suitors around the block for you in no time. Ain't that right, Bonnie? You were a bit-of-a catch in your day."

"Still is." Mr. Collins elbowed Graves.

"I am not." Bonnie caught a hand at her hip. "But, I admit, you should'a seen me ten years ago. You would'a had a go at me, too, Graves--"

He scoffed, holding his hands in mock defeat. "--You know what, I just might have done."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't've." He clapped a hand on Graves shoulder. The good one - he knew better than to kick a man when he was down. "I'm glad our Winnie took after Bonnie, here. Wouldn't wanna be chasin' a man down with this face."

Graves chuckled. "Yeah, cause they'd be runnin' the other way--"

"--You shut your mouth." Mr. Collins slapped the back of Graves' head.

The table was quiet for some time as the raucousness died. Only after a few minutes did someone say something, and like most times before it, that person was Phillip Graves.

"So, you take after your mother, Winnie?" Though he was still reeling from his laughter, shoulders sagging with every beat of amusement.

"No, I--"

Bonnie, mid-scoop of pie, wildly thrust the ladle toward Winnie. "--She does. Won't let her deny it. Wants to, 'cause she thinks she ain't pretty, but she takes after me!"

"Alright." She chuckled. "Momma says I look like her when she was young." Winnie shrugged. "Though she says my hair ain't as curly and my nose ain't the right shape--"

"--And she doesn't have my gums. She has her father's gums."

Winnie snorted. "Yeah. Daddy's gums, momma's... teeth, supposedly."

Graves shrugged. "Whatever gets y'there..."

Mr. Collins asked for another round of pie, next, even if she explained that it had long gone cold and the cream was flat - but there was too much left and he didn't want it causing Bonnie any upset - and they went circling the table for another few rounds of red wine, beer, and scotch (whatever matched their penchant), until they'd all but exhausted the modicum of vacancy in their stomachs, collectively slumping back into their chairs as the delirium of late-evening settled in.

That was, until, after some time - wishing to crack open a window and get to washing up - Mrs. Collins clamboured from her seat. "Well, I better start gettin' some of these dishes in before the sauce crusts down."

"I'll help ya with that, Bonnie," Graves stood.

Winnie stood after him, catching his curiosity. He was busy hoisting the belt of his trousers after being sat for so long, and stretched out his shoulders like her father did when it was time to dust the house.

"Sit." Winnie chimed. "Guests are guests. I'll help ya, Momma."

Mrs. Collins glanced between the two of them - it was a feast for her eyes. "Goodness. Well, one a' you help me!"

"Y'want me to sit around while you ladies clean the table? Can't do that. My Momma raised me better." Graves held his hands on his hips, half-intent on sliding plates along plates, and cutlery over those same plates - the sort of passive-aggressiveness Winnie despised from a man.

"Yes." She swatted his hand away, catching a twinge of provocation. "Now, sit."

Mr. Collins whistled. "You better just si'down, Phillip. She's got a temper on her like nothin' you've ever seen. Worse than her mother."

To which, Mrs. Collins shouted back from the kitchen, a muffled but audible, 'I heard that!'

By nine, Winnie regretted even opening her mouth. The exponential pile of dishes that stretched from one end of the kitchen to the other could have rivalled that of a hoarder's. For one meal for four people, out of the three that she'd cooked that day, she managed to use a mandolin and each of its attachments, of which there were six. Crinkle cut, straight cut, slivers, chunks, thin slices, and thick slices.

And all were a bitch to clean.

Winnie was on the 'slivers' attachment when she heard footsteps at the door. "Momma, how'd ya manage to use this many appliances? I'm half expecting the coffee machine to appear outta nowhere..."

A gruff voice replied - one she'd learned the sound of, though didn't like to hear. "Sorry, sweetheart. I ain't y'Momma."

"Well, can ya get her, please? I wanna ask how she managed to use both of our Dutch ovens." She gestured wildly at them on the drying rack; soapy water dribbled down the ankle of her gloves. "Seriously. How does one woman use both of 'em for beef steaks, potatoes, grits, and chestnut pie..."

Graves chuckled, and soon, he was beside the drying rack, back against the cupboards, towel in hand, swiping away the remnants of water.

"Thought my Daddy told you to si'down."

"Your Daddy's out back, choppin' wood for Bonnie's kiln, although I ain't seen her use it in years." He arranged the dinner plates into a neat stack. "And I'm sick of smellin' the remnants of dinner when I could be helpin'."

"Well - thank you, but I don't need your help."

"I know that." He dried another plate, and added it to the pile.

Was this some sort of a challenge?

A moment's silence, then; "Y'got a hair in your eyes."

"I know that." She spat his words right back, huffing the piece of hair away, just for it to fall back against her nose. "Damned... thing."

Graves dried his hands and hooked the rag over his belt. "C'mere. I got it." He reached for the strand, and Winnie paused with bated breath, waiting until he'd hooked it over her ear before she inhaled, lest she catch a whif of his cologne. "There ya go."

"Thanks." She mumbled, though it came out more like a disgruntled slur - because she couldn't quite get over the softness of his fingertips against her temple.

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[major-toast]

Alternative Rosekiller Playlist - pt. 1

Since this blog is purely for my entertainment, I thought to go ahead and list some songs I connect to either rosekiller or Evan and Barty as characters respectively. Of course, I'll explain my reasoning with each song.

Gauze - Deftones It's a mistake, but go ahead and take a side. But watch how you choose, or be headed for a ride.

Barty, especially canon compliant Barty. To spite his father, he chose to follow the lead of Tom Riddle, seeking thrill rather than logic. Manipulative as he is, it had been an easy thing to convince Evan to join their side, promising this is how they'll escape those, who oppress them. Untimely, it had been also the decision that would lead to their demise.

Entombed - Deftones From the day you arrived I've remained by your side. In chains, entombed.

Evan. Although he didn't necessarily like Barty at first - deemed him too obnoxious, too nosy -, Barty remained persistent. Essentially, Evan took a liking to him, remaining by his side even though their relationship was far from healthy. Barty is possessive, and no matter how hard Evan tried, he would have never gotten rid of him. His loyalty ended in his death.

Spine - WesGhost You're always in my mind, can I see you tonight? I'll meet you anywhere you like, I'll be over in five. It's only for the night, baby, is it alright? If I pretend that you're mine.

They are keeping their relationship secret at first. Evan pretends to be straight to avoid suspicion, but Barty knows his dirty little secret. One ghosting touch of his hand over Evan's waist, one breathed kiss into his ear, and Evan will grow pliant between his hands. Barty always wanted him, and he gets everyone he wants. Seeing Evan with other people only fuels the rage, the spite. He'll have him one day, and if he has to fuck him in love.

Waste My Mind - ThxSoMch Keep track of it all, replay every fault. My words are fake. Are you proud of me? 'Cause I choke before I talk.

If rosekiller is something, then it has to be toxic. Their communication is poor, and Evan withdraws into his mind rather than talk things out. He's scared of commitment, fears the consequences, what it could do to his freedom. But Barty clings. With no one there to love him, Barty would give his all to keep Evan as close as he can. If he had to, he would bury himself inside of Evan's bones, eat him whole. He'd follow him everywhere, but Evan's mind is the only place where he's being kept out, and he hates it. Losing him drives him insane in every universe, so no matter how often they break up, replay their own faults, they will always end up together again. It is simply how their fate works.

Always You - Depeche Mode My love, life's too absurd. My love, I could not explain. My love, why insanity reigns. And then, there's you, there's always you. The light that leads me from the darkness.

This one is an ode to Barty's dependency on Evan, and how possessive he grows over time. Especially within the last chorus, the line 'always you' grows more demanding, manic even. After Evan's death, Barty lost it all. Over the course of the war, Barty's mental state had deteriorated, and Evan had kept together what little had been left of his sanity. I believe, during his time in Azkaban and all those years later, Evan never fully left him. He felt the constant need to avenge him, felt his presence closer than ever. It was daunting, eery, but Barty would have rather died than lose even the last thing he could cling to. Sometimes, he'd talk to him as if he were still there, alive. With every breath he took, his grasp on reality slackened until the thought of the only love he ever felt - no matter how much of it had never been real love to begin with - consumed him whole. Shame, they never got to meet in the afterlife.

[creampied-69-hotwife]

Not at all I love the sight and sounds of her getting the shit fucked out of her so hard and deep that she's cumming all over her Bull's big hard throbbing cock.. Ribbed with thick veins pumping blood so powerfully she can feel his pulsing cock thrust ballsdeep so hard he's got her so much more full of cock than ever before that she's literally cumming so much she's squirting everywhere and begging him to pump her full like some cum hungry slut I've never seen before...

Mmm hmm ballsdeep breed my married pussy a cuckold's give forced feeding of sloppy creampied hotwife pussies grinding down hard squeezing cum out as he tongue fucks me deeply... Mmm hmm aaand tongue the shit out of my tight little ass while you're at it baby she demands wickedly.. He's almost rock fucking hard again and just whispered in my ear that he's about to destroy your wife's gorgeous little butt hole whether you like it or not and that I'll love it before he's finished even if I'm begging that he stop at first because he isn't able to fit in there..!!! Mmmmm I can't even try to say no to him even though I don't know how his cock will fit.. He says he owns my holes and he'll use them how he likes even if that means raping them while I cry no please no..

Hubby promised me your holes slut and you will give them all too me before I leave.. Aaand you'll learn to love it too trust me you'll see next weekend my buddies are cumming to join me and we're going to pop your Dp cherry while we leave hubby tied up in the basement and properly give his sweet little wife a gangraping gangbang party all night long.. Bathed in the warmth of a rising sun she'll be before we're done passing her from cocks to cocks..

Cumming so much even the neighbour's going to end up ballsdeep in her after cumming knocking at the door to make sure nothing was wrong hearing her screams as he watered his back lawn... Omg please don't say anything to my wife he asks sheepishly with the biggest bulging dick in his pants she'll kill me if she finds out about this.. Well you better fuck me properly then now hadn't you or maybe I will just invite her round for coffee and creampie while our husbands are both at work.. I'll even help her get over your bad behaviour by letting her take my Bull's big thick cocks cum load pumped ballsdeep before eating her sloppy creampied pussy out while the his buddy pounds me from behind.. Burying my face deeper and deeper in her pussy with every powerful thrust as she looks into his eyes while he is cumming in my pussy.. Her cum fuck me eyes totally wanting him to be filling her instead not a question about it I hear him say after pulling out of my sloppy wet pussy.. You cum here and suck this cock hard again and beg me to destroy that hot little ass you're husband has never been allowed to fuck the whole time you've been married.. Mmm hmm you know you want me too you're eyes said it all just now.. It's ok to be a total cumslut he'll never even find out unless you'd like him to know of course lol.. Omfg I'm sooooo fucking horny I'm crawling over to suck that big dick after asking if we can film it and send to him at work.. Hmm I'll be the one cumming to borrow the sugar from next door for now on buddy you've been caught out and lucky for you her Bull's been so kind he's helping me understand it from your perspective how could you of said no and it wasn't your fault.. I was very angry butt now I'm ok with it I think babe.. And by the time you get home tonight and finish cooking dinner I think you'll owe our new buddy here a big thank you indeed.. Not only will he have saved your ass from a divorce but he's even agreed to cum fix all those things around the house for me I've been asking you to fix for years.. Free and all nothing to pay either except of course a few cold beers for a hard earned thirst throughout the day I promised him was our shout and the least we can do... Mmm hmm naturally though I've promised him a warm creamy delicious serving of my dripping wet pussy pie after watching him working up a hot sticky sweat all day..

Bending over in front of him with no panties on and the tiniest of slutty skirts making you so angry he cums in to ask what's going on and even tells you to go take a break even lol.. Go out for a few beers down the local I'm finishing up here shortly too I'll meet you down there after taking a shower and fresh set of clothes yeah.. Let's go he says leading you out I'll drop you down there on my way home and great a cab back in half an hour bro.. Intimidated he hubby can't say no and winking at his horny Cumslut of a Milf Hotwife as he's kissed her goodbye seals the deal...

Oooh you boys have a great night I'm going to go shopping with my girlfriend and maybe even finish up down there for a few drinks ourselves later on as well.. Dropping her husband off at the furtherest away pub I can find after pretending to live around the corner before opening his wife's msgs of her waiting ass up on all fours spread open invitingly.. the open front door letting the whole street see her pussy on full display from the street.. Mmm cum fuck me hard and deep right there in the open doorway I want the neighbours to all see what a horny Cumslut you've made of me this afternoon using those tools to fix my things... Now cum fix the hungry pussy that's dripping on the front porch for your biggest tool to be put to work.. Jack hammering my holes on the front porch bent over the outdoor setting in full open view of everyone to cum see.. Then drag me into your truck and take me round to see the rest of your mates at the actual pub you live around the corner from and you can all get me drunk before I'm bent over the pool tables and you all running a train on me including the barman who's just closed the pub early and locked the front doors and the first to cum fuck me anywhere he wants to in his pub...

Dm me your throbbing dick pics and tribute cum loads to this photo while telling me where you'd fuck be if you were that lucky barman who's filing me up first before a long night being filled with so many more in every hole that I've got in me... 😈🥵🍆💦💦🍑🥵😈

[huckleberrykai]

okay so I saw your post about, mean dom Kai after coming home from a bad day at work, and it was genius... but imagine, him coming home from a bad day of work only to find you had a worse day, and suddenly He's the one crying under You. Like the Switch in people in power just changes so fast. One moment he's teasing you, and the next. You have your hand around his neck, and... 😮‍💨😫 the whines that leave him 🙌 the sobs as he Begs you to let him cum. The way he squirms beneath you. His hands which are now tied to the bed post with pretty ribbon pulling in a desperate attempt to touch you or himself, he doesn’t know which. Pretty eyes looking up at you so pleadingly. Lips pouting and swollen. So hard beneath you, that you can him throbbing. Telling him to shut up and be a good boy,before finally sinking onto him.

Sorry this is so long, I got way too into this and my fingers wouldn't stop typing. 😔

😮‍💨 Satan has a special place in hell for me. Simply waiting for me to move in.

He's so perfect 😌

I don't regret sharing this

omg are we all in a subby kai mood today or something jskasd love it

(i luv this cause i'm a firm believer that he's a switch depending on the day, mood and situation - like this man adapts and plays every role WONDERFULLY. messy desperate sub? check. mean hard dom who'll fuck your brains out til you're blue in the face and covered in bruises? check. soft dom and king of loving sex and body worship? CHECK BABY! in a goofy playful mood with no real dynamics, just two horny lovers with silly best friend energy? he's got it in the bag. i truly think he's just down for whatever, he'll try anything once LOL)

ANYWAY I DIGRESS LETS GO!

mm kai being in a bad mood already, man needs to get his dick wet ! he knows you'll be down for it, you always are - but when you walk into the kitchen where he's throwing dinner together and look like you have a thunder cloud over your head .. his priorities change a lil

he knows it feels good to just let loose and channel your bad day into railing your partner, and he loves when you dom him anyway~ so maybe his bad day could be fixed by you taking the reigns and taking it out on him hehe

so after eating dinner together and venting out all of your frustrations of the day to each other, he'd get a little touchy-feely jskjdk a few kisses here and there then suddenly you're in bed making out as usual. kai teases you a little as he normally does, but when he notices you aren't biting back or even willingly submitting - he puts his idea into action.

"'m all yours for tonight honey. i'll be good i promise. use me however you like."

and that's all it takes for you to roll him over underneath you and secure your hand around his neck. "thank you baby boy~ be good for me and i might let you cum."

kai is already losing his shit bcs you're so hot like that LOL

absolutely nearly finishes untouched the second you pull the ribbons out to tie him to the headboard LMAO completely underestimates just how mean you can be when you're in that dom headspace~~ he suppose he deserves it after he's had you in that very position countless times hehe

he'd start crying sooo quickly. he's so hard and frustrated when you start grinding on him while you suck n bite his neck and scratch red lines into his chest. you'd keep his sweatpants on him and get completely naked above him so all he can do is watch you play with him with glassy eyes, unable to touch you or keep quiet at the little stimulation you give him. whenever he whines or complains you give him a little slap to the side of his ass, or maybe to his scratched-up chest >.< "good boys are patient. if you want a reward you better be good."

that shuts him up quickly !

but ask him to beg ,, and boy will he beg. "please fuck me. please.. need to be inside :("

the pout on his lips is too much to deny, so when you finally pull his pants down and sit on his lap with his dick nestled inside you he moans like you've never heard before. "that desperate huh? pathetic. you wanna be good then you won't make a sound. one peep and you won't cum tonight, got it? shut up."

and he nods like a sad puppy. your pace is brutal and he has to bite his lips to keep himself from whining. when you feel him start to twitch inside of you and his face scrunch up in concentration, you ask him to beg again ! because who wouldn't when he looks so pretty pleading for mercy muahaha

he'd let out all of his pent-up whines and moans as he begs you to let him cum with sickly sweet words ~~ "'so good.. please! please let me cum! so warm n pretty, can't help it.. please 'm being so good!"

so you can let him ! or have some fun and ruin his orgasm muahaha

either way kai checks out, cum leaking from his dick while his head spins - you completely stilled on top of him and crying thick salty tears from his disappointing (or fantastic depending on how ur feeling hehe) orgasm. when he finally opens his eyes after having them squeezed shut and seeing the fire still burning in your eyes and the sadistic smile on your lips.. he knows he got himself into a doozy of a situation ~ but that's exactly what he wanted 😌

MAN IMS ORRY THIS HALF TURNED INTO A WHOLE ASS DRABBLE subby kai got me feeling feelings today fhuedjwk thbaku for sharing this i am screaming !! so many thoughts

and it's okay, i belong in hell too we can hang out together and talk abt subby switch kai 😋💗

[theageofsims]

The Age of Sims 2.8- Part 7 - “Moody”

"Hey… what are you doing all the way down here?"

"Trying to avoid another argument with your lovely neighbor and his dazzling wife."

She took a seat next to him, choosing to focus on his expression more than his words -- and saddened her.

"Go ahead and say it."

"Say what?"

"That I'm grouchy."

"You're not grouchy… you just probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

He gave her another look before looking away from her which allowed her to focus on his expression once again.

"Seriously William, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, "Or something, I don't know… I just don't want to talk about it. No sense in ruining the day… that's already been somewhat ruined."

She stayed quiet for a little bit, thinking of what to say when he moved to get up and walk away from.

"Hey."

"Hey." He said back.

"I've got to get to work in less than hour. If you were in a bad mood before you left home, you shouldn't have left home." She paused enough for him to say something, but he only raised his eyebrows once he registered the tone of her voice.

"You sound mad."

"I'm not mad, but… why come to see me if you're in a funk?"

"I'm not in a funk…" He caught her look, "Okay… so maybe I did get up on the wrong side of the bed… I'm allowed."

"I didn't say you weren't allowed, but…" She trailed into nothingness, "Why don't you spend the night?"

"I can't. I left Noah with his mother and my brother… for all I know I'm going back home to a disaster."

She listened.

"He's due back in Brindleton with Kathy and her husband in about a week, but until then…" His voice grew thick with tiredness and a whole lot of something else.

"I could spend the night." She offered, "And bring dinner with dessert for all of us."

He thought about what 'all of us' meant, realizing that he rather it just be the both of them and Noah.

"My brother doesn't deserve to eat your food after he thought you were my maid."

"I wasn't really planning on cooking… just bringing the leftovers from the spot I'm working tonight, but the dessert will be made specially by me."

"Can you add some sort of powder to my brother's portion so he'll go right to sleep instead of dictating to me what I should and shouldn't do with my life?"

She smiled around a laugh, "I don't think I've got any of that sort of thing mixed in with my spices."

He grumbled.

"I've got to go."

"I promise I'll try to be in a better mood by later… 'try'."

[sugdenlovesdingle]

A secret shared (AO3)

Written for the @tarlosweeklyprompts word of the day prompt: Secret (though if you squint you can probably make it work for all of the prompts so far)

Some TK and Andrea bonding for you on this fine Sunday.

Also Gwyn is alive because I said so.

Also also - all of the medical stuff is based on years watching Grey's Anatomy and the like so take it with a *large* grain of salt.

------

TK hadn't meant to end up here. He'd planned to just go home after his shift. Just like everyone else.

The only problem was that home was missing something, or rather someone.

And going home to an empty house was as appealing as almost dying of hypothermia again.

So instead of heading downtown to the loft, he'd gone the other way and ended up here.

He rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer.

"TK, mijo, I wasn't expecting to see you today. What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

TK forced a smile.

"Hola mama." he said and let Andrea usher him inside. "Everything is fine... I just didn’t want to go back to an empty house after work... I'm not interrupting am I?"

"Of course not sweetheart. You're always welcome here, you know that."

TK sat down at his usual place at the kitchen table, surprised to see there wasn't something cooking on the stove.

He looked around and realised something else was missing.

"Is Gabriel not home?"

"No, he's working late. Why? Do you need to talk to him? I can call him, he won't mind, you know he won't."

TK shook his head, feeling stupid for showing up on his mother in law's doorstep just because he was lonely, when she was alone too, and perfectly fine by the looks of it.

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten today? You have to take care of yourself mijo."

"I know. And I am, I promise." he sat back in his chair and a smile tugged at his lips. "Carlos made enough food to feed a small army for about a year before he left."

Andrea smiled and sat down too.

"And why aren't you at home eating it?" she asked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you of course." she rushed to say and squeezed his hand across the table.

"I'm just... lonely. I miss him. The loft is too quiet, the bed is too big..." TK rubbed a hand over his face. "I feel stupid. It's not like we've never been on opposite schedules and it's not even the first time he's been away for work."

"It's not stupid to miss your husband when he's not there. I bet Carlos is feeling the exact same way." Andrea offered. "I know I still do when Gabriel is working on a big case and I barely see him for weeks. He'll come home to change his shirt and he'll be out that door again. Barely giving himself time to breathe, let alone eat or sleep."

TK smiled.

"That sounds like someone else I know."

"Oh yes, that boy is so much like his father, it's almost scary. The girls are a mix of us both, but Carlos? He's all Gabriel."

"He doesn't see it."

"Neither does Gabriel." Andrea said and gave him a conspiratory wink. "You're staying for dinner right? I ordered pizza but I can never finish a whole one by myself."

TK stared at her in shock.

"You ordered pizza? Who are you and what have you done with my mother in law?"

Andrea laughed.

"My husband is away for work and I was feeling lonely so I decided to indulge myself and order something that's bad for me." she told him. "And then my favourite son in law stopped by to keep me company."

"I'm your only son in law."

"And you're still my favourite." she said and got up when the doorbell rang. She paid for the pizza and tipped the delivery boy more than the kid had probably ever gotten. "One slice or two?"

TK took one slice out of the box and took a bite, even though he wasn't very hungry.

Andrea asked him about his day and filled him in on the latest news on Carlos' sisters and the rest of the extended Reyes family, and TK felt himself relax for the first time since Carlos had left.

"Do you want to stay over tonight sweetheart?" Andrea asked. "You know you're always welcome to stay in Carlos' old room. I keep telling Gabriel we should get a bigger bed for that room so you boys can stay over more often. I hate the thought of you driving back late at night."

TK smiled and shook his head.

"It's fine. I have a shift again tomorrow and it's a long commute from here. I'd rather spend that time getting a little extra sleep."

"Alright but if you change your mind, the offer is there."

"I know. Thanks." TK said and forced himself to have another slice of pizza. "Does it get easier? Being married to a cop?" he asked after a few minutes.

"I'll let you know when I find out." Andrea replied. "Not a day goes by where I don't worry about Gabriel. Or Carlos. Or you." she said and gave him a pointed look. "I saw you in hospital after you'd gone through the ice... I never want to see you like that again."

"I don't plan on doing that again, trust me."

"Good. Because I don't think my nerves can handle that. You're my son as much as Carlos is, I want to keep both of you in one piece."

"I'll do my best." TK promised and nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone buzzed. He quickly checked the notification.

"Is that from Carlos?"

"No." TK sighed. "It's the rookie officer I talked into sending me updates on him. He can't keep his own phone on him when he's out there. The case is coming along nicely and Carlos is doing fine and loves me." he summed up the message.

"That's good isn't it?" Andrea asked and TK nodded, eyes still glued to his phone. "TK? Everything alright sweetheart? TK?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I uh... zoned out for a second there." he put his phone face down on the table. "I just wish I could talk to him for five minutes."

"I'm sure he will call you the second he gets his phone back." Andrea offered. "Or when he gets his hands on any working phone when it's safe for him to do so."

"Yeah..."

"And at least you don't have to wait until he can get change for a payphone or convince someone to let him make a long distance call from a landline."

"You're speaking from experience aren't you?"

Andrea smiled.

"When I was pregnant with Carlos and the girls were still little, Gabriel was away for work too. He'd just joined the rangers and he wanted to impress the other officers. He worked long hours and we barely saw him. My sister, your tia Lucy, was staying with us to help with the kids because I was huge. " she laughed. "I don't think I saw my feet at all after the fourth month. And Gabriel kept telling me I looked beautiful."

TK smiled. His in law's marriage was so different than what he remembered from his own parents. He knows they loved each other and in a way still do, but also they shouldn't be allowed near each other for more than an hour without buffer.

"I remember when I was almost 7 months pregnant with Carlos," Andrea started again. "He was a very active baby. Always moving and kicking. Sometimes it felt like he was doing somersaults in there or performing a dance routine." she smiled, allowing herself to get lost in the memories for a moment. "But then one day I barely felt him. I knew something was wrong but everyone kept telling me that he was just getting bigger and had less space to move around." she shook her head. "I could feel something was wrong. I called the doctor and they told me to relax and that my baby was just resting."

TK frowned, his medical knowledge kicking in.

"They didn't even ask you to come in for tests?" he asked, remember a call a few weeks ago where they'd rushed a heavily pregnant woman to hospital because her baby had stopped moving and she'd called 911.

"It was a different time." Andrea waved his comment away. "I convinced myself the doctors knew best but when I started having pains, I told Lucy to stay with the girls and I took a taxi to the hospital."

"Pains? Were you in labour?" TK asked, trying to remember if Carlos had ever mentioned being born premature.

"I thought I was. But Carlos still wasn't moving and I was panicking. And the worst thing was that I had no way to contact Gabriel. He was in California working a big case with the LAPD and all I had was a number for the hotel he was staying at. All I could do was leave a message for him at the front desk. "

"And did you?"

"No. I couldn't tell him our baby died through a message on a hotel notepad."

"Wait, died? I thought this was Carlos?"

"It was. But I was convinced he'd died. That my baby had died inside of me." she paused to collect herself. "I've never told anyone about this. Carlos doesn't know, Gabriel doesn't know. Even Lucy doesn't know the full story."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Thank you sweetheart." Andrea patted his hand. "When I got to hospital there was a very sweet nurse on duty who listened to me and just sprung into action right away. She ordered tests and put this gel on my stomach to listen to his heartbeat. I cried when I heard it. I was so relieved he was still alive."

TK let out a sigh of relief that he wasn't about to hear about his husband's heart stopping again.

"So what was the problem?"

"His heartbeat was too slow and the position he was in meant he wasn't getting enough oxygen. At one point there were five doctors in my room arguing about what to do. Three wanted to deliver Carlos via emergency c-section, the other two wanted to wait and see if his oxygen levels would stabilise if they gave me more oxygen."

"What did they do?"

"They gave me an oxygen mask and argued over test results. And I just kept listening to Carlos' heartbeat, praying it wouldn't stop. Until Carla, the nurse, had had enough and took action. She told me she was going to try and make Carlos change position in my belly so I wouldn't have to have my baby without his daddy present."

"And that worked?"

Andrea nodded.

"After a few tries. I never cried harder than when I felt him kick again. That's when I vowed I would always do everything and anything I could to make sure he was happy and healthy and safe." she looked down at the table. "But I know I haven't always done a very good job with that."

"He doesn't blame you." TK told her, knowing her and Gabriel's lack of reaction after his coming out was still a sore spot for Carlos, but he never blamed them for any of the issues he might have gotten from that. Whether or not that was the right or healthy thing to do, TK had decided to leave to him and doctor Ryan, his therapist.

"I know. But I blame me. I never asked him about his love life. I never asked him about boys like I did with the girls... I didn't know how to talk to him about that part of him and made him feel like he couldn't talk to us, to me. If I could go back in time..." Andrea trailed off." Parenting is a hard job, mijo, you'll see when you and Carlos have kids of your own. "

TK glanced at his phone again before taking a deep breath and looking his mother in law in the eye.

"That might be sooner than you think. We met with someone from an adoption agency before Carlos went away and we've officially been approved. I got an email from our case worker earlier but didn't see it until I got the update on Carlos." he explained. "They will have to do home visits and everything when someone chooses us... But it's a first step... To us becoming parents." he beamed. "We never thought it would happen this fast."

Andrea got up and rounded the table to hug him.

"I'm so happy for you. You boys are going to make wonderful parents."

TK happily returned the hug and let his mind drift to a moment in the hopefully not too distant future where he would wake up in the middle of the night to find Carlos feeding their son or daughter, or maybe dancing around the living room with them to get them back to sleep.

Suddenly TK's phone buzzed again and when he picked it up he saw a video call request from an unknown number.

He debated rejecting it but his curiosity got the better of him and he hit accept.

The screen went black for a second but then Carlos' tired but smiling face appeared.

"Hey babe." he said casually, like they'd seen each other that morning and he was just downtown at the precinct.

"Hey baby." TK happily greeted him. "Did you steal someone's phone?"

Carlos laughed.

"No, just borrowed. With their knowledge." he added with a wink. "We just caught the guy. It's all over."

"It is? Are you sure?"

Carlos nodded.

"Do you want me to put sergeant Grant on to fill you in on the case? I'm sure she'll be happy to. This is her phone after all."

"No, not unless she can tell me when I can expect my husband to be back where he belongs."

"Soon." Carlos promised. "As soon as I get my own phone back, I'm booking a flight and I'll let you know when I'll be home."

"Maybe I can convince Judd to give me lift in the rig and turn on the sirens so we can get onto the tarmac. His first official emergency as captain" TK said, only half joking.

"Please don't. I don't want Judd to lose his job this soon after he started it for misuse of city property."

"Says the man who flashed his badge to get past airport security and nearly knocked me to the ground because he hugged me so tight."

"You nearly died! In the air!" Carlos protested and next to TK Andrea laughed. "Wait, are you at my parents' house?"

TK moved the phone a little so Andrea would fit in the frame too.

"Hola mijo. TK and I are having a mother and son night. We ordered pizza."

"You ordered pizza? Who are you and what have you done with my mother?"

"I said the same thing!" TK laughed.

"I'm allowed to indulge myself every now and then." Andrea told him. "Be safe out there sweetheart, te amo." she blew him a kiss.

"I will mama. Te amo." Carlos promised.

TK turned the phone back to himself.

"And I love you too. And when you get home I'm going to teach you the meaning of taking some time off to spend with your husband."

"Already taken care of. I have two weeks off the second I land in Austin."

"Detective Strand-Reyes, we're ready to get out of here." someone said off screen.

"Ok, I'll be right there." he turned back to TK. "I have to go, but I promise I'm on the first flight out of here. Even if I have to fly in the cargo hold." he said and TK had no doubts he meant it.

"See you soon baby. I love you."

"I love you." Carlos replied and ended the call.

"Aren't you going to tell him about the adoption news?" Andrea asked.

"As soon as he's home. I want to see him and be able to hold him and kiss him when I tell him."

Andrea smiled.

"he won't hear it from me. But when the time comes, I want to be the first to know so I can go baby clothes shopping for my grandchild. And I get babysitting privileges."

TK laughed.

"Deal. Though you'll probably have to compete with my mother on that."

"She's in New York, I can take her."

[milllkaa]

Heclie au where Charlie is Hector's new psychiatrist

As promised, I'm posting. There may still be mistakes, yes, I apologize. Have fun.

It was hard for Hector to work with his psychiatrist, he understood that she was doing her job, but how dismissive she was of him. It was as if she wanted a public confession, saw him as a threat. It was very annoying. At one point he just snapped, he got angry again and said everything he thought about her. And even though it threatened his job - he wasn't going to communicate with her anymore. It wasn't news to him to learn that it was mutual. She admitted that she couldn't cope with the job and offered to replace her with a newcomer. He only got a job with them a month ago, but he had the best references. And as long as he only has one patient, he'll be able to devote a lot more time to Hector. He agreed. Anything is better than this woman.

The Beast of Arkansas case was just picking up steam, Hector was sleeping and eating less and less. He was very irritable, because people kept dying, and the maniac, realizing he'd gotten the attention he wanted, started killing with extreme cruelty. Not that the agent was embarrassed by the sight of the corpses - it wasn't his first year on the job. It's just... there was a strange, unpleasant feeling, like he was someone else's toy

Lucinda was hospitalized. He started having nightmares about his childhood again. It was like a reminder.

"See how she treated you? Are you sure you still love her after that? Or you're just pretending to be a "good son"?"

Despite all the trauma she inflicted on him, despite the cruelty with which she treated him, he continued to reach out to her on some subconscious level. He had no friends or acquaintances with whom he could share his experiences. He's used to being perfect. For others, he's fine.

He decides to visit his mother before his appointment with Charlie, the name of his new psychiatrist. He got his number and wrote about the date and time of the session. Mr. Lonnit was almost ten years younger than Hector, and that, in a way, embarrassed him. It's hard to be frank with younger people. For him. He had always been held up as an example to others, but now that image was rapidly crumbling, and it was hitting him hard.

Standing in front of his mother's room, he couldn't open the door. For some reason it was especially hard to see her now. Maybe the problem was her imminent death, or maybe it was what would come after that. Hector had always tried to be the best for her, to make her proud. But in all thirty years, he never heard that.

With a quiet sigh, he decides to open the door.

"Hi" he greeted quietly, pausing at the door for a while and examining Lucinda. She looked bad, to say the least.

"Showed up! Decided to look at your mother before she died?" - she spat out angrily. Her voice sounded hoarse and she was lethargic. Apparently this is the effect of the medications they give her. Hector frowned. No, of course he had no illusions about his mother's behavior. But perhaps, somewhere deep inside, he hoped that at least now he could talk to her... normal.

"How do you feel?"

"How is a dying person supposed to feel? They pump me full of pills and make me eat this shit. And my own son visits me once a week! And that's in the best case!" she said in her usual disgruntled manner. The agent had long ago stopped paying attention and took it for granted. His mother is just a person like that.

"I work hard, you know that," he sighs deeply and rubs his eyes. He hadn't slept tonight, had a lot of work to do and frankly, he couldn't stand his nightmares anymore. Tired.

"It's your job again! That's all you can talk about, you're not interested in anything else! What kind of son have I raised-"

Well, maybe he came here for nothing. Hector didn't listen to her any further and calmly left the room. She shouted something else after him, but he didn't care. He tried not to pay attention to it, he'd brought up his character. But... It still wasn't pleasant. Whatever he did his mother hated him. And he thinks it's time to get over it.

***

The agent begins to experience deja vu. He is standing at the right door again, and he hesitates to open it. Only his mother isn't there anymore - his new psychiatrist is sitting there, waiting. Wonder if he too will be counting the minutes of his tardiness? Putting on his work mask of calm, he pulls the knob.

The office is bright, with large windows overlooking a small park, the pleasant smell of something... something long forgotten. In the middle of the office there are two chairs, a familiar sight. Next to each is a small nightstand, and a little further away, against the wall, is a desk and- ah. Lots of shelving with books and plants. As Hector looks at the study in a kind of prostration, it doesn't immediately dawn on him that it's empty. Did he get the time wrong? Looking at his wristwatch, no he was right, he was even a few minutes late. Maybe the man didn't wait for him and decided to leave? Actually, that would be even better. He wouldn't have to waste so much time on idle talk. The main thing was that he did what was required of him - he came to the appointment. But fate was not of the same opinion. It always was.

"Oh Mr. Munday, hi! My apologies, have you been waiting long?"

Hector turns around and sees a young guy, his glasses and eyes immediately catch his eye. So big and bright. He has blond hair slicked back, plain clothes. A big soft sweater, cold? He's a little shorter than he is. Hector remembers the question and shakes his head in the negative. Charlie immediately offers him a seat in a chair and sits down across from him.

"Charlie Lonnit, your new psychiatrist. I'm not going to force you to tell me anything by force. I wouldn't want you to think of our sessions as something horrible and forced. Of course you're still required to come in for the record, but- ha ha, I think you know what I mean! " the young man laughs briefly, looking with his big eyes at Munday. He looks away and notices a small folder in his hands. He recognizes it and his mood immediately drops. Charlie notices where his gaze is directed and immediately continues.

"Ah, folder, yes, I was just leaving to get it. You're right, it's a past psychiatrist's notes. I haven't opened it yet." - Lonnit looks intently at Hector, waiting for his reaction. But there isn't one. "You know, every person sees the world through their own eyes. And even on seemingly identical things there will always be different opinions, that's just the way humans are," Hector raises his eyes and looks at Charlie.He lifted his head dreamily, looking up at the ceiling, a small warm smile on his face. A soft yellowish light falls on his profile, making his skin glow. He averts his gaze again.

"Where was I going with this?" he assumes his old pose again and looks at Hector. "This-" he picks up the folder and waves it slightly, drawing attention "Already outdated data." Hector frowns slightly.

What's he talking about?

Charlie only smiles harder at that, having decided something for himself. He rises from his seat and hands the folder to the agent, and walks over to his desk pulling something out of it.

"You can look through it now, I'll give you time. By the way, do you smoke?". The psychiatrist walks back in, holding a small trash can and a glass of water. It's a... a very strange set, Hector thinks.

"Yes" he simply replies to his last question, "And no" continuing to look at the folder, he hands it back to Charlie but he doesn't take it, just smiles and looks at him with his soft eyes.

"That's good, because I want you to do something before we begin our acquaintance." He places the glass on Hector's desk and then the trash can next to his chair. "Open it," he says simply, returning to his seat.

Even though Hector is a little sluggish from lack of sleep, he begins to guess what is wanted from him. But doesn't say anything. He opens the folder and looks at the first page - there his own, sad eyes meet him. Basic information, when he was born, where he studied and lived, a little bit about his biography in general. Takes out all the sheets and sets the folder aside, clutching the lighter in his hand.

"Nobody likes it when people base their opinion of you on the words of others. For some reason, not everyone wants to get to know a person in person, all they need is a couple of phrases from others to form their opinion of a stranger. I think this is rude. And stupid of course, such a childish thing to do." - Hector casts a glance at the psychiatrist, who sits in a calm pose and continues to smile softly looking at him. It's strange.

"I don't want you to think that my opinion of you is based on the notes of your past therapist. I want to get to know you myself. So that there is a pleasant, friendly atmosphere between us. You're a good specialist yourself, so you'll know right away if I'm lying to you, won't you, Mr. Munday?" he laughs quietly, and Hector nods slightly, confirming his words. "I want to shatter this image that's been attributed to you, because you seem to be beginning to believe it yourself." Hector is silent. He lowers his gaze to the papers and unknowingly squeezes her a little harder.

"Will you help me?"

Hector thinks. Images and the words of his psychiatrist fly through his head. He begins to notice things he hasn't seen before. His own blindness makes him angry; he shouldn't have taken that woman so lightly. He sighs quietly and picks himself up, and though he knows all the psychological tricks… he agrees.

Charlie doesn't look like he's lying or plotting anything, his body language is open, he's calm, and he looks like he genuinely wants to help. Munday doesn't think the guy will be able to get through to him, but he will still be better than that woman. So he agrees. He leans forward a bit and lights the paper. They burn slowly in his hands and he sees the text and his own face distort. He holds the paper until it begins to burn his hand, and then throws it into the trash. And watching his psychological portrait burn out makes him feel better for some reason. It's as if he's rid himself of a heavy burden on his shoulders.

"I'm proud of you, Mr. Munday," such simple words, but it's so strange for Hector to hear them. He looks up and finally looks into the eyes of this strange man. So bright and calm. It's as if he's looking out to sea, vast and so clear. He looks down at his hands, he seems to have burned himself a little.

Charlie looks at the clock across the room; they have another half hour, and why not spend it in a more relaxed setting. He immediately noticed how bad the agent looked, practically falling asleep during the session. He wouldn't want to torment him any further with these formalities. While his patient continued to stare thoughtfully at his hands and seemingly contemplate his action he slowly gathered his things, after which he approached the chair and asked:

"Mr. Munday, have you had lunch?" - looks at the slightly puzzled Hector with a soft smile. He shakes his head in the negative after thinking for a moment. "Great! I mean, no, that's bad, you should eat well, after all, you're keeping me and others safe from maniacs and other… thrill-seekers." - he rubs his neck awkwardly and continues, "There's a good cafe nearby, it's usually empty at this hour so you can comfortably have a good meal and a great coffee. Will you keep me company, Mr. Munday?"

He smiles his best smile and holds out his hand to Hector. He is lost. He's heard so many nice words in his direction today that he doesn't even know how to react. But he is right, he should have some food and coffee or he won't be able to work.

"All right, Mr. Lonnite, I agree." He takes his hand and Charlie helps him up.

"Charlie. For friends, just Charlie," he puts his hand down and looks expectantly at Hector, who puts on his coat. “For friends," runs through his head.

"Charlie. Okay."

The psychiatrist smiles warmly at him in a special way and they leave the office. To Hector's surprise, this is the first appointment that has not brought him any negativity. On the contrary. He feels good. And it even makes him feel a little uncomfortable. He looks at Charlie, which tells him about the cafe they're going to, and there's so much life in him. The bright fall sun is shining directly on them and he involuntarily admires his new therapist.

Maybe it's not so bad, isn't it?

[runaway-wife-syndrome]

Chapter 2 (TW: DV)

The next night:

Well, I guess he caught on to the fact that the silent treatment doesn't bother me anymore.

Every single night, after I've made dinner for Toddler (using code names Toddler and Boyfriend from this point on for anonymity), I get in the bath. That has been the case for three years at this point. Boyfriend has never been a considerate man, but he's at least always let me have that time at the end of the day. It's the only time I get at the end of the day for me. The only break.

Tonight, as I'm finishing up dinner, he gets in the shower. It's been 30 minutes, he's still in there. He knows, he's well aware that I'm supposed to be in there. He's decided to take away my only break now.

Maybe I shouldn't be this upset, but I am sitting here writhing in anger right now. Seething. Mostly because I know that he did it on purpose. He gets creative and finds new ways to hurt me. He knows that last night I was 100% done with being hurt by his old ways, so he sat down ans thought up a new way. Yet he plays dumb when I ask where the fucking spoons go. *hint, same drawer they've gone since we moved here.

He gets out of the shower and asked me what my grandma said on the phone, I said I would talk to him about it later. I just didn't have the energy to fake nice to him.

Without missing a beat, he laughs, "Oh, are you mad about the shower?" I hate it when he laughs at me for being upset.

I can't contain it. "You are just so inconsiderate."

"I am not, I took a cold shower to save you hot water." I can literally still see steam wafting from the bathroom.

Obviously, this man doesn't want to be with me just as much as I don't want to be with him. Why doesn't he leave? Why won't he just find somewhere else to go? Does he enjoy this? Does he get some sort of high putting me through this shit? I've been self-harm free for months now, but his actions tonight made me want to self harm. And God, the night isn't even over yet.

And to think, I almost made him dinner, as a sort of white flag. Thank God I fucking didn't.

Boyfriend has never cared. He has never gone out of his way to do anything nice for me, he's never brought me home flowers just because, never left me a nice note to find in the morning when I wake up, never done anything considerate. It's been 11 years. I have had to scratch and claw and beg and fucking scream for every scrap of affection and attention that I have recieved from this man. He promises he will change. Sometimes he does. For a week, maybe a month. It never lasts much longer than that. Just enough for me to start to believe it is real this time, and then once again he's twisting the knife in my back. Laughing at me for being hurt. The usual. Nothing new.

He sits at the kitchen island, eating his dinner, watching some stupid fucking YouTube video on his phone ignoring me sitting here wiping tears away. Ignoring his sick child's plea for a tissue. I get up and help her blow her nose.

Even if he had said, "You're right, that was inconsiderate, I'm sorry," it wouldn't have mattered. Because regardless of an imaginary apology, he did that shit on purpose. That was a malicious attempt to cause me pain. And it worked. And he laughed.

Don't let him see you cry. He'll know he got to you. Don't self harm. Your daughter will see it.

"There's still hot water." He repeats.

I ignore him.

If I have to sit in lukewarm water to get away from him, so be it.

At this point you might be wondering why I don't go to my bedroom. Well, he gets angry when I go in there and lock the door. I've had to replace that doorknob once. It happened when we first moved in here, we hadn't even unpacked yet.

It was ironic because he'd always promised me that when we moved and finally had a house things would be different. I am disgusted with myself for ever believing that lie.

I told him I needed a break from a fight we were in and I got up and left. I am not EVER allowed to walk away from conversations. He is, but I am not. He broke the doorknob off the door to get into the room. We told my grandma it was the people who lived in the house prior to us. She believed us, no one in my family thinks Boyfriend can do anything wrong.

I can't lock the door to the bathroom either, but at least he rarely bothers me in here.

I did lock it tonight, though. I hope that he knows better than to try to escalate this any further.

Ah, never mind. Door just unlocked.

My breath begins to get shallow and my heart is pounding. I am just waiting for him to tear back the shower curtain.

But he doesn't.

He just...unlocked the door and left it wide open.

It wasn't enough to force me to sit in a cold tub of water but he has to devoid me of any privacy as well. Of course, since the door is open, Toddler is in here asking when she can come take her bath. I love her, but I've been with her since 7am and he is her FATHER and he should have a turn. He gets breaks at work. Why shouldn't I? I don't get a lunch period, or an employee discount. I don't get paid. I barely have time to make sure I'm drinking enough water, yet he's got the time to make sure I'm not in here with the door locked. What does he even think I'm going to do in here? Cheat on him? Like what is going through his mind?

I think he might be trying to start a blowout fight. I think he wants me to start it, so he can say I'm the one who escalates shit.

He's trying to hurt me. I don't know why I always think that when things are this bad he will step up and try to make things better. I know better than this, yet I still somehow always have hope. Why? It ends the same way every single time. Nothing has ever changed, nothing will ever change. The only thing that has changed is me. I've completely given up on boundaries I previously fought so hard for, I've given up on things I wanted for years, I am the only one in this relationship who's given up anything at all. He gets to gain and gain and gain while all I do is lose.

This time, he's losing me. And it'll be his greatest loss, and when he's crying and begging for me to come back, I'll send him this. I'll send him this and every single journal entry I've ever made. Not that I haven't tried that before, he just never made any effort to actually read them. Maybe he will when it's too late. And that's on HIM.

[polymusepotion]

cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, ric rests his palms against the edge of the kitchen counter. he's circled the house twice now in his pacing, talking quietly so as to not wake the girls. he's exhausted, but there will be no more sleep for him tonight. his suggestion to her -- the one where she comes home and does research for a year -- is near pointless, he knows. it's not as if he's been sitting on his hands while she's gone, playing dad of the year and making home-made cards with the girls to give to caroline when they next see her (though he has been doing those things as much as possible). he's been busy with his own search, knowing the sooner one of them finds the answer, the sooner she can come home.

"i know it did," he says. having lost jo, he knows the worst thing he can do for her is to brush off the ache she undoubtedly feels, even after all this time. stefan was her love. her true love. and ric is half convinced something like that only comes along once in a lifetime. he'll never say that to her, though. not when she has centuries ahead of her. "but care, you can't shoulder everything any more than i can. you might be an amazing woman, but you are only one woman. we'll find the answer. somehow. believing that is the only way i fall asleep at night."

not that, clearly, he stays asleep, but that's neither here nor there.

"give your hair a break, yeah?" he can't see her. and he can't hear her movements. but he can practically envision the way she's running her hands through her hair over and over, the way she always has when she gets frustrated by a complicated problem. "the girls will want to braid it, i'm sure, when you get back, and how will you explain how you've tugged it all out by the roots?" he's trying for something more light-hearted, even though the whole of their conversation thus far has been heavy.

his hand catches the phone as his head drops down. he feels utterly defeated, and right now, he looks it. this thing with their girls is worse than a terminal illness. because there's always going to be the belief that if they search a little longer, if they find enough back-alley supernaturals with promises they can't keep, maybe they'll find what they're looking for. and if they fail? it'll because they didn't try hard enough. they didn't look long enough. if they fail, will he ever forgive himself for not going out there with her? will he be able to think back on these years and see all the times he got to play dad instead of the hunter?

"you haven't been sleeping, but you've been eating." he's not sure he entirely believes this last part, but it's another of those things they try not to call each other out on unless things get too bad. "you're safe enough for now. but care? i want you to listen to me. try to hear me, please. i may be getting older. i may be a washed-up hunter. i've had years of faults. but i'm promising you. we'll find an answer. there's a reason i've trusted you with this search, and it has nothing to do with you being more durable. we'll figure it out. you're not going to lose us. but i need you to understand, we can't lose you either. you remember what cramming for a final felt like on no sleep? it's what you're doing to yourself now. things are always foggier when you're not rested. your response times are slower. comprehension lags. do not make me lose you." don't make me tell the girls we've lost you. don't make me have to explain to them you'll never come home. he won't use them against her, though. never again. but she knows he loves her. maybe not like he did jo. not like she did stefan. but she's his family and losing her will destroy him all the same. "so, please. even if you have to drink yourself into a coma the next time the sun sets wherever you are, sleep. please."

polymusepotion​:

she made a valid point, he knew. hell, it killed him to not be out there with her, looking everywhere, searching for the thing that would save his girls. their girls. but someone needed to be with them and give them a stable environment of one home, one school, and at least the illusion of safety. alaric understood her anxiety in this matter. he understood what drove her. 

but. 

but.

“i’m going to play devil’s advocate because it’s what i’m best at. and i’m sorry. but care… what if you keep hitting dead ends and you… you miss everything. stay where you are and keep doing what you’re doing if that’s what feels right to you. god knows i would be doing the same if i could be, and the girls would be in more danger for it. but maybe you… maybe you spend a year here, looking through whatever resources we can encounter from home. and if it’s still nothing then we’ll discuss the road again. i won’t tell you that we have time. because they’re going to be teenager, then off to college, and then… twenty-two before we know it.” just the thought of what would happened filled him with dread. he could be in the middle of watching the girls finger paint at the dining room table, smiling, and then his grin would falter and they would be sixteen and his time, their time would be up. 

he’d lost so many people. 

“you’re fighting to save our girls. i haven’t forgotten that. and i… owe you everything in the world for not only bringing them into this life but for working so hard to make sure they see years and years to come. but you deserve a rest, caroline. maybe… maybe with some time, you’ll be able to go out there with fresh eyes. maybe after a year… i could be the one to go out while you stay with them. there would be nobody better to ensure their safety. and i am a historian. we agreed. i know we did. but they’re getting older. and i think they might understand my absences more.”

her jaw is locked tight as he speaks, head resting in her hand, fingers curled tightly into her hair, tugging lightly at her roots. she waits until he’s finished to respond. and even when she knows it’s her turn to speak, she can’t quite think of the right thing to say. there’s too much. there’s too much that they don’t talk about. that they haven’t talked about. that they can’t, because if they do…if they do then it’ll all start to fracture. it did once before. she almost lost them one before. and she’s painfully, acutely aware of how fragile this life is for her. how quickly it could be taken from her.

❝ you don’t get it, ❞  it might sound insolent, had it not come out so soft.  ❝ ric…part of me died when stefan died. ❞  he knows that. he was the one that picked her up from it. the same way she’d been there for him after jo died. but they both know that this would be different. both of those things — stefan, jo — there was the potential to come back from it.  ❝ if anything happens to them…if we lose one of them, we lose them both. you know that. and if we lose them, then i lose you. and it doesn’t just get to end there for me. okay? ❞

caroline inhales, groaning as she hunches forward, fingers pushing through her hair.  ❝ i didn’t try enough when it was elena, okay? because i was scared. and looking back it was so simple i should have been able to see it, but i didn’t. and now…now everything’s fucked up. ❞  it’s not her fault. she knows that it’s not. at least…not as much as sometimes she feels like it is, but she could have done something. and if she had — if she’d fixed things back then, then elena would have been there. damon wouldn’t have gone off the rails. the twins wouldn’t have been pulled into it, stefan never would have taken that stupid deal, he never would have been human —-

❝ i can do this. ❞  maybe that’s the whole point. and maybe it’s a lie. and maybe she just needs him to believe it because sometimes she doesn’t and the further away she is from home, the more leads that don’t pan out, the heavier the weight on her chest sits.  ❝ they need you. ❞

[arianaagreyy]

A Letter From The Dead || J. Potter x Reader (Part 2)

My grandfather passed way a month ago, so I was feeling very down. That's what inspired me to write this.

Part 1

Words: 765 words

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, su!c!de, bl00d. Let me know if there are more.

"We are friendshs"

"Yesh, Jamie"

"Sho no shecrets?"

"No shecrets"

"Pwomish?"

"Yesh Jamesh"

His mind was running miles per minute. It was 3 am, yet there was no sign of sleepiness on any inch of his face. Your letter was clutched tightly in his hand, and he was too zoned out of the world to think about anything else.

They could barely talk, yet they had made a promise of no secrets, then why did you break it? Were you that scared?

"It's just a caterpillar, James. It won't eat you"

"I don't care. It's nasty"

"No it's not. Look"

"GET THAT AWAY FROM ME, Y/N!"

No, you were strong. Very strong. Emotionally and mentally. You provided him joy in the darkest of times. You helped him when no one did.

"Y/N!"

"What's wrong?"

"Sh-She called me a git"

"Who?"

"Lil-Lily flower"

"Isn't that a normal recurrence now?"

"Y/N!"

"Oh alright, come here. There's no sadness a hug can't erase"

"And your hugs are the best, Y/N"

You were his strength, his confidence. The only person who encouraged him to tell more jokes even when no one was listening, just so that he wouldn't feel bad.

But what did he do? What did he do in return? Did he appreciate you? Thank you? Told you that you were special? Did he ever ask you if you were alright? No. He didn't.

And it was too late now. Too late to ask you for forgiveness. Too late to appreciate you. Too late to thank you and tell you you're special. Too late to ask you if you're fine. Too late to love you.

A tear slowly escaped his eye and landed on the letter, just above the blood stain, your blood.

"She said yes"

"Don't joke James"

"I promise, Y/N. Lily said she'll go out on a date with me"

"Sh-She did?"

"Yes! I'm so happy, Y/N"

"And I'm so happy for you, James"

He was stupid. Stupid to fall for your fake happiness, your fake smiles. Only if once he had asked you how you were or what was going through your mind.

"We're dating"

"You and Lily?"

"Obviously. Who else would I date?"

"Hmm true"

"Are you happy for us?"

"Do you wanna know how happy I am?"

"Yes"

"Drinks are on me tonight"

"It's not okay to be so happy, Y/N"

"What can I do? My best friend finally got a girlfriend"

You were such a good actor. He was in awe of how flawlessly you hid your heartbreak underneath a smile. Or how you supported him even after you knew he would never love you the way he loved Lily.

"I think I'll propose her next month"

"Isn't it too fast, James?"

"But I want her to be a permanent part of my life"

"F-Fine but if it goes wrong, don't blame me"

He proposed Lily. Married her, and stopped meeting you. Because he was busy being a good husband, and after Harry, a good father. He became too busy to acknowledge that one person who acknowledged him when not even the love of his life did. He replaced you so quickly.

"James"

"JAMES"

"JAMES POTTER"

"Sheesh Sirius, you'll wake up Harry. What's wrong?"

"Y/N"

"What about her"

"When did you last talk to her"

"..."

"James, when did you last send her a letter or met her?"

"I-I think it's been four months. Why?"

"On what occasion?"

"When we made her Harry's godmother. Now will you tell me what's wrong?"

"She's dead"

You deserved the world. You deserved happiness, not death.

"Her entire house was empty, just this letter was found"

"How did she die?"

"She committed suicide"

"She-what?"

"Suicide, James. She killed herself"

No amount of tears would bring you back. No cries or saddened faces. You were gone. Gone from his life, gone from Harry's life. Gone from Sirius's life. Gone from everyone's lives.

"The letter that was found is meant for you, Mr. Potter"

"For me?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter"

He'll keep it safe. Your last memoir. Just this letter. Your confession. He'll keep it close to himself because you kept him close to yourself. He'll love this letter, because he didn't get a chance to love you. But maybe, destiny would unite them in the afterlife.

It's so bittersweet to think about the moments spent with a person who's now just a mere memory, but those cherished moments are something James and Y/N both will keep close to each other until they reunite.

Till then,

Rest in peace, Y/N.

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