#i need to sleep but all i can think about is blocks..... lumines addiction is back....

[letsperaltiago]

show me you're shameless

the one where i upload the 2nd chapter 5 months after the first :)) so sorry skskss. anyways... CLUB FIC CHAPTER 2, BABYYY. And it’s getting smutty! Works fine on its own, but reading chapter 1 first does add that *extra spice*

Rating: E

Words: 5.8k

Read here or on Ao3

Besides the obvious bruising and swelling caused by Manson’s punch, Jake is unharmed and allowed to leave the hospital right after his debrief. Officer Wilson nicely offers to give him a ride home and after the day he’s had, which Jake gladly accepts - the faster he gets home, the faster he gets to see Amy. By the time he steps out of the car, onto the sidewalk framing Amy’s apartment building, and tells Wilson thanks for the ride, it’s closing in on two am. The streets of Brooklyn are as desert as the city that never sleeps can be, rather unusually quiet, but Jake can’t think about anything else but the painkillers he’s about to pop, the girlfriend he gets to kiss, and last but not least the soft bed that’ll promise him a good night’s sleep. 

Or so he thinks. 

The second he steps a foot into the apartment, using the spare key Amy gave him a few weeks ago which he proudly accepted, making him feel that more committed to their blossoming relationship, Jake immediately notices that something is not quite how it usually is. And if there’s something he loves about Amy and her place it’s how routine is everywhere to be found - from the tiny key-hook by the front door that holds Amy’s keys to how he knows the painkillers are stashed in the little pink plastic basket on the right top shelf of the bathroom sink cabinet. Tonight the atmosphere feels out of routine, almost making Jake feel like a stranger in an apartment that’s somewhat his own (they’re not quite there yet but they’re mostly at her place so). 

It’s not just because the only elements lighting up the blacked-out apartment are candles (quite many of them) which in itself is very weird because no way Amy Santiago would go to bed with a candle, let alone tens of them, lit. The scene screams fire hazard. Jake himself has a hard time putting a finger on it, but somehow the entire energy seems different. It’s as if, somehow, the air is charged with a certain electricity, and, for a second, Jake wonders if he’s accidentally let himself into the wrong apartment - but that’s not possible, right? No way Amy’s key works for other front doors. 

His keys make a by now familiar clinking sound as he places them on the key-hook, on top of Amy’s. A routine amidst the estranged feeling of this situation. Although he’d hoped and would’ve loved it if Amy had stayed up and waited for him, he knows his girlfriend’s schedule is highly prioritized (even over him, he learned very early on) and so he ignores her absence. What he can’t ignore is that Amy would’ve gone to bed with multiple candles still burning. Her silver three-arm candelabra on the dinner table, her rose-scented block candle on the coffee table, multiple smaller ones in the windows and around the couch/tv-area…

“Ames?” he calls out, loud enough to catch her attention if she’s awake but low enough to not wake her if she’s asleep. 

Silence.

He quickly shrugs off the absence of her reception, and, as per a routine he likes to think of as “domestic”, a new feeling and aspect being with Amy has introduced him to, he kicks off his shoes. Instead of leaving them to clutter up the room, like he would if it were his own apartment, he neatly aligns them with hers on her little shoe rack. His coat goes on on a coat stand instead of a random chair. It’s small gestures like these that make him feel more in sync with his girlfriend. This also leads him to go around the room to blow out the candles. He knows Amy will appreciate him doing it, but he’s just barely put out one candelabra-light when his beliefs are contradicted. 

Someone clears their throat and it has Jake freeze in his spot by the dinner table, much like a deer caught in headlights - a Jake caught in candlelights, one could say. All he can see is a silhouette standing in the hallway. Only just barely lit by the candles’ tiny flames, casting the otherwise dark room in a yellow and orange glow, it’s hard to see anything clearly. Still, there’s no doubt in Jake’s mind: It’s Amy. 

From the way her silhouette almost looks naked, her curves on full display, he can tell she’s still wearing the infamous red skintight dress. Her now messy dark locks frame her face - her beautiful , amazing face - and scatter onto her bare shoulders which are only covered by the sleek dress straps. She looks flushed, luminous, and Jake can’t help but wonder whether it’s the candlelight or the sudden heat he’s sensing. Did it actually just get really hot in here or just him? 

“You don’t like my candles?”

The sound of Amy’s voice is something Jake is very familiar with by now. Her presence has become something his senses immediately tap into, yet when she speaks, red, perfect lips shaping the words with precision, Jake feels his heart skip a beat as if it’s the first time seeing her. His jaw drops to the floor and he surely looks like an idiot, stuck in the same spot with no audible reaction. It surely doesn’t help when his girlfriend walks up to him in a way that has her look like a goddess on a runway. Slow, sleek, and surely she steps up to him as if she isn’t wearing uncomfortably tall stilettos. If Jake hadn’t previously listened to her complain about how awful these heels were then he’d beg her to wear them forever. 

“I- uh- yes? No? I don’t know?” 

A cocky chuckle gushes from her lips. It’s obvious that she has him right where she wants him, physically and mentally, and from the burning look in her eyes, he can tell she has a plan for them to follow tonight whilst she, hopefully,  wears that dress (at least for some of it). 

“I thought I’d try to make the most of the night...” Her eyes switch to the clock on her wall. Five past two. Her brown irises slot back together with his. “What we’ve got left at least.” 

He’s so entranced by her sultry gaze, mystery and mischief glowing in her eyes, that, until he suddenly feels her hands on his hips, he fails to notice how far across the room she’s made it. Now her warm breath is bedewing his neck, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt and Jake’s never been good at chess but this feels a lot like checkmate. 

He doesn’t say anything. Quite honestly unable to do anything else, he utters just the sound of his breath hitching in his throat, but Amy’s happy; it’s enough to reveal his true sentiments when she gracefully pops the first button with her sleek fingers. She pauses and holds his gaze. 

“I’m really glad we ran into each other tonight.”

Already very much confused and barely able to grasp what reality he’s in at this point, Jake offers her little statement a frown. Ran into each other? They literally went to the club together, what does she mean-

“Most guys I run into at that club are usually barely mediocre...”

Oh… OH. It all suddenly clicks. That’s what she’s doing. 

“... but you...” she interrupts herself by biting into her newly applied lipstick, showing off just how white her teeth are, as she moves on to pop the next button in line. “... you look like someone worth spending a night with.”

The colorful lights, the loud bass, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, their moment of weakness in the scummy bathroom; the sensation of being back in the club comes rushing back. All of this, along with it the thought of Amy Santiago being his scandalous one-night stand, flicks a switch within him. Being with her every day is indeed a much better deal, one he’d never want to change, but this fictional role of the one-night stand he’s been put in? Definitely works for him too. Now he just needs to get up to speed and make up for time wasted on being utterly obvious. Luckily Amy Santiago can turn him on easily as a faucet. 

“Yeah? You do this a lot, eh-?” He attempts, dabbling and getting comfortable in his newfound role. 

“Cassidy.” 

“Oh yeah, cool cool cool. Cassidy.” 

After this infamous fumbling, figuring things out, he shifts back into gear. His voice descends into a darker tone, as well as his eyes - and don’t even get him started on his train of thoughts. His hands, up until now stuck by his sides, gently latch onto her waist instead and the soft feel of her dress, silk, he guesses, helps him adopt the exact right mindset for this game. 

“So, Cassidy ,” he emphasizes the name as to get familiar with its taste, immediately learning that it savors of something poisonous and addicting. “You do this a lot? Take home guys without even knowing their name or telling them yours?”

Meanwhile, Amy’s already popped another button, revealing a good chunk of his chest, and has to tear her eyes away from it to meet his villainous gaze. There is no fighting it, and she willingly dives right into him as one would in a pool. Although instead of a clear blue mass of water, her’s is a dive right into a sinful twilight that’s slowly but surely consuming them both.

“Well,” she abandons the last two buttons untouched and sneaks her left hand down to the front of his pants to be met what she’s been patiently waiting for all night. A bulge, still quite modest but without a doubt present and growing. After all, they’re just getting started. “All you needed to do was ask for it. Like I’m going to do now: what’s your name?”

She grins, her eyes as well as her lips, and it takes every muscle in Jake’s body to think of a name, stay in the role, all while he’s not to give in to the hand that’s unmistakably cupping him through his pants. 

“I bet you’re used to asking for what you want.” He’s kind of proud of that line, he must admit. “... And I’m Andrew.”

“Good to know, Andrew. And yeah…” she tightens her grip on him just a tad more, “it’s the easiest way to get what I want.” 

“And what exactly do you want?” 

Just like hers had moments ago, Jake’s hands slowly travel south and back, getting two handfuls of her ass and the fabric that’s enhancing its perfect shape. He feels her breath sink into the skin of his neck and lower face, slowly and bit by bit becoming a part of him.

“Whatever you’re willing to give,” she kisses the side of his neck, feeling the dampness her breath has left behind. Turns out he tastes even better than usual, a mixture of him, cigarettes, and alcohol so having her lips let go already seems unnecessary. 

“And what if what I’m willing to give isn’t enough?” 

He shamelessly squeezes her ass, thanking God for this goddess of a woman he gets to call his, and he’d be lying if he said her sucking on his neck and the feeling of her full behind didn’t have him almost fully hard already. 

“Then I’m not shy of a little... begging,” she physically punctuates her sentence by letting her teeth sink into the skin right below his jaw, and it immediately sends her man of the night into another dimension where he can’t hold back and play nice any longer. Luckily, she doesn’t want him to. 

In the bat of an eye, he’s got her face cupped in his hands and their lips colliding with a hunger that makes it seem as if they’ve never kissed before this very moment. The kiss is clumsy, hungry as if they’ve been starving for days, and once in a while they can hear their teeth clacking, colliding. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Am- Cassidy,” he’s quick to correct himself. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you at that club. Was wondering how a fucking goddess like you was hanging out in a shit-hole like that.” 

He feels her hands cling onto his neck. In response, he has to let go of her face. Instead, his hands wander back down to his hips. Although rather than both slipping backward like earlier, one sneaks its way down and forward to get a grip on the hem of her dress. 

“And wearing this dress? How could I not notice you and instantly dream of fucking you in it.”

This rewards him a tiny moan, airy and soft right into his ear where her lips happen to be nibbling on his earlobe, and Jake knows he’s giving her exactly what they both want. 

“Touch me,” she breathes almost inaudibly and although he hears her he can’t help but push some buttons. 

“What are you saying, baby?” He smirks, slowly forcing the dress-hem up the warm skin of her thighs. “Say it again - louder.” 

“Touch me, please .”

With two fingers hooked around the red fabric he drags it up to stop right by her pubic bone. “Only because you’re so good at asking for it. I might have you beg a bit later.”

She barely answers, only utters a little uhuh . The same two fingers slowly slip beyond the fabric and slide across the already damp gusset. It’s with a small victory smile that Jake carefully starts rubbing the area, immediately earning himself a small whimper. It falls from her lips as if it’s been waiting to do so for a long time now, and her head drops to rest on his shoulder. 

“What did you say?” he cranes his neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of her face, but it’s mostly hidden in his neck. “Does that feel good?”

He doesn’t hear her but feels her nod against him, and so he adds a little more pressure with his fingers, digging into her through the fabric of what feels like lacy panties. 

“I have barely touched you and you’re already this wet. Do you want more? Is this okay?” His tone doesn’t change by Amy can tell it’s Jake asking, not Andrew. 

“Y-yes,” she whimpers, wishing he’d put more energy into touching her.

For a second Amy believes he can read her mind because as soon as the green light has officially been re-approved, her partner’s fingers force aside the gusset and gather some of her wetness to help embed themselves inside of her. He feels her shuffle on the spot in an attempt to stay on her feet and squirm a bit around him when his middle finger penetrates her, all to be summed up by a soft moan into his neck. 

“God, you’re soaked, baby. Do you know how good that feels? Do you feel good?” he slowly starts moving his fingers inside of her, in a pattern he knows she enjoys, and he has to use his free hand to stabilize her as he challenges her with a quicker pace.

“S-so good. More, please.”

Her wish is his command, and he immediately meets it by switching up the pace to which he can hear and feel her react right away. 

“This is so hot,” he breathes into the top of her head, her hair already mussed and messy from their fooling around. “You look amazing, you feel amazing. Kinda just wanna keep you in this dress. It looks fantastic on you.”

Busy whimpering and grinding along to the pace of his fingers, Amy has no time to reply and instead gives in to his upper hand. There’s something so exciting, so hot, not only about the roleplay but also the spontaneity of things, the way they haven’t even made their way out of the dining/living room. If Jak- Andrew wants to, he can have her right then and there. She wouldn’t mind one bit… 

Caught up in a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts, trapped in the vessel that is her quivering body, it comes as a surprise when suddenly Jake nudges her in the direction of the dining table. Making sure to stay away from the still lit candelabra, Jake backs her up against the wooden surface. 

“Sit,” he prompts and helps her over the edge of the table, safely seating her on it and as a consequence, his fingers slip out of her. They’re glistening with her juices and when he runs his hand across her thigh, her skin is smeared with her own lust. Then he nudges her legs further apart for him to fit in-between. The tight dress has by now suffered a lot of moving, already pushed up above her hips and creased into a bunch around her lower belly, which, once he’s ripped off her panties, leaves him with open access to where they both want him to bee.

“Wanna taste you,” he huffs into the kiss he’s pulled her into, leaving them both breathing hard and yearning for air when he retreats to sink to his knees. He’s left at the perfect height. “I’m gonna make you forget about all the guys before me.”

And he sure keeps his promise. 

He dives right into the sacred space between her legs, tongue first, drawing circles around and with her clit, while his hands are forged onto her shivering thighs, making sure they stay wide open and spread for him. Her heaves and tiny breaths escape her with shorter and shorter intervals, promising them both a climax, which his tongue follows, focusing on all the right spots. He continuously eats her out like he’s been starved and deprived for God knows how long,  and she’s his main course. 

“I-I’m almost there.”

She dares to let go of the table, just one hand, and plants it in his messy locks, which are already sweaty and wild from his rummaging between her legs. The tugging throws him into a higher gear that demands extra help from his fingers, still wet from earlier, which makes entering her easy. The second they sink into her, from the higher pitch of her moans, Jake can tell he acted wisely. She shakes, not only the thighs beneath her hands but her entire body, and he fights to keep up the pace that seems to be succeeding in bringing her closer to the edge. A few more pumps, licks and kisses to her inner thigh a couple of times before his tongue reunites with her clit for the final licks that have her climaxing with a loud moan, right there on the dinner table and his mouth. He pecks her heat a few more times as she comes down, then her inner thighs where he spreads her climax on her skin before standing up to see her leaned back onto the elbow that wasn’t tugging on his hair. The dress looks miserable crumpled up around her waist but something about it, paired with her closed eyes and messy makeup, leaves him with what he believes is the perfect picture. Her breathing is more or less just heaves and he lets her catch some air before he leans in to kiss her, open-mouthed as to allow her a taste of herself. 

“Good?” 

“So good,” she smiles right into the kiss, given a taste herself, eyes still closed as she focuses her energy on assembling herself for what is yet to come. 

“Wanna see what you’re hiding in here,” she breathes but Jake barely hears it as all he can currently fixate on is her hand cupping the bulge in his pants, and her nimble fingers working the button and zipper open. Who said attending multiple meticulous and detail-oriented bomb-defusing classes would never come in handy? 

 “Wanna suck you off. I’ve been wanting to all night, even in that disgusting bathroom we met in. Could’ve sucked you off while you looked at yourself in that disgusting mirror.” 

Though it’s pureoy fiction (at least for now - who knows?) Jake feels lightheaded just hearing her thoughts break free and let out into the open. Despite the fact he could never ask her to kneel on the club bathroom’s disgusting floor that, so filthy it stuck to your shoes when walking on it, just the thought of it does ignite something within him. One second they’re still making out, Amy on the table with Jake standing in between her legs, the next she’s got his pants unbuttoned and unzipped thus proceeding to push herself off the table, consequently pulling both his pants and boxers down at once (which kinda impresses Jake - he’s not gonna lie) as she gets descends to her knees. 

Cassidy, Amy, whoever she is in this moment, doesn’t waste time. Jake admires the adulterated hunger in her eyes as she wraps her fingers around his hard, pre-cum leaking cock to give it a few assisting pumps before leaning in to kiss the head. Her gaze diverts from his hard-on to his eyes, up at him through thick and black mascara-coated lashes, as she gives the very tip a tiny, almost experimental, lick. Just the sight and feel of her tongue on him, her saliva mixing with his pre-cum is enough to send him to heaven, but he sure doesn’t complain when the innocent lap is succeeded by a full-on licking motion that goes around his full girth. 

“Gosh, you’re killing me.” 

He reaches for her cheek, stroking it with his thumb as if to praise her for her actions. “You like this, huh? Hunting down your preys, taking them home… only for you to become the prey.” 

Nothing is answered, at least not verbally. Instead, she slowly goes down on the length, lips stretched to the max around him and batting her eyelids as her gagging reflex is challenged. His hand leaves her cheek and instead travels to the back of her head where it can get a good grip on her hair. Here it settles on following her movement as she bobs her head, swallowing him again and again. The grip on her doesn’t have a real purpose, he doesn’t try to control or force anything with it. All it really does is provide him with another pleasing aspect of feeling her movements, giving him some sense of staying grounded when the thrill becomes too much and he starts losing himself to the thrill of her actions. 

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees like this, and…” He’s interrupted by his own growl, escaping him the second he feels a very soft scratching of her teeth against his pulsing member. It takes him a few seconds to recollect himself. She’s sucking him off like a champion, one hand by the base, the other on his thigh, steady rhythm and small hums in between. Hums that he’ll remember till the day he dies. “Your lips stretched around my cock like this? Like they were made for it, fuck. I’m not gonna last though - not if you keep eating me up like this.” 

Her lips offer him a few more pumps, slowing down to a halt and leaving her in his mouth for a few seconds before she lets him slip out of her mouth, leaving a thin thread of a mix of saliva and pre-cum to hang on for dear life between her lips and his cock. She can taste him and he can see his discharge on her lips glowing in the candlelight. Her knees are pink and raw when she stands back up, hair messier than ever, and dress crumpled, bunched up around her waist. She’s amazing, Jake thinks, in awe of how he landed someone as perfect as her - in every way imaginable. Tonight is just one of many aspects, and every day with her is truly the best day ever

“C’mere,” he pulls her in by the waist, too caught up to let her go for even a second, and without even thinking twice his right hand cups her heat, feeling the wetness seep through her lips and trimmed bush. Just what he’d hoped for. “You’re gonna start dripping on the floor if we keep going like this.”

“Would you like that?” she breathes onto the shell of his ear, grinding into his hand, and sending shivers down his spine. 

“Yeah, I would… But I’d rather put how absolutely soaked you are to good use.” He slips his middle finger in between her folds, gathering wetness, feeling her squirm. “I’d much rather fuck you right into this wall…” he backs her into the nearest wall that’s clear of shelves and pictures frames, a low-risk area per se, “... while you’re wearing this stupidly hot dress.”

She’s sucking bruises into his neck, not allowing him to see her face, but the second her back hits the wall she’s back to kissing her way up to his lips. Here she tugs on his plump, still bruised bottom lip before dropping her head backward, letting it lull against the wall. Her eyes are darker than ever, brown irises borderline black, as she stares right into his. “Do it then.”

“Do what?” he challenges. He wants to hear her say it. Every word, every syllable. 

“Fuck me. Up against this wall. Wearing this red dress.” She pulls down the skirt, just to cover her ass and give him the full dress-experience rather than it just being fabric bundled up around her waist. “ Please .” 

It sure is impossible to not act when she bats her eyes at him, spilling filthy words, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Before he’s even fully aware, his animalistic instinct takes over and has him holding up her leg with one hand, the other giving his cock a few pumps prior to guiding the tip through her folds. 

“Cond-” 

She’s quick to interrupt. She knows it’s his character asking, since, in reality, they both know they’re clean and she’s on the pill - though she appreciates the effort of staying in character and the fact that Andres is a reasonable man.

“Fuck me. Raw.”

“You’re something else, Cassidy,” he chuckles, and having already gathered enough wetness on him he pushes into her, slowly and torturously, feeling her heat take him in and hearing her moan shatter the silence. 

“Yes,” she hisses at the stretch, her uplifted leg leaving her more open and the piercing sensation somewhat smoother. 

He starts slow, rocking into her with ease. 

“You look so hot. Can’t believe you’re letting me take you right here up against a wall. Fucking filthy.” 

He eventually picks up her other leg as he picks up speed and by the time he’s fully slamming into her with a powerful pace that has her legs shaking, he’s fully holding her off the floor and fucking her into the beige wall behind her. She moans with every thrust, every collision between her body and the wall, thumps, as she holds onto his shoulders for dear life, thighs burning from clinging onto his hips. The angle at which he penetrates her is just perfect, hitting and stimulating all the right zones, and, even comparing to the loads of amazing sex they’ve had, this, without a doubt , goes in the top three. The wall is cold against her back, creating a sizzling contrast to the heat forming between their rubbing fronts. His shoulders and arms are flexing under her weight, and now there’s no denying that Jake Peralta the hottest guy she’s even been with. 

“R-right there, ah, yes,” she hisses, head pressed back into the wall, the friction messing up her hair. 

“This feel good, huh?”

“So good- fuck , harder, please.” 

“You feel so good around me, you know that? All wet, all tight… Just like your dress. Fucking gorgeous.” 

He picks up the pace, putting great effort that has him sweating through his nice shirt, never fully removed, as he works her up, almost as if he hopes to leave an outline of her on the wall. Her moans pick up the pace, turning into small squeals that can barely come to an end before a new one takes over, and Jake can tell she’s closing in on a climax. So is he. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, J-Jake.”

It flies out of her, beyond her control. It’s hard to stay in character when your groin is one fire like (almost) never before, but she was the one to start the roleplay and he’s going to keep her in it. You have to finish what you started. 

“Who’s Jake?” the trust going in with his name is extra hard and earns him a loud whimper, topping all other sounds so far, as if to apologize for her mess-up. “Is he some other guy who you’ve taken home and gotten fucked by?”

“S-sorry, bad habit,” she leans in to kiss him in hopes of making him forget or at least let go. 

“Do I fuck you better than he did? Huh?”

She doesn’t say anything but keeps moaning, her pitch gradually becoming higher.

“Tell me,” he momentarily lets go of a leg, feeling her ankles hook together behind his back, to cup her cheek and force her to look right into his eyes. “Have you been fucked like this before?”

“N-no,” she stutters in-between his cocks collision with what he knows is her good spot. 

“Couldn’t hear you,” he growls, provoked, and dying to hear the statement in its entirety fall from her sinfully pink lips now that he’s gnawed off the red lipstick. Almost synchronously to his demand, he picks up the pace, heading for the last stretch, which he knows might not be the smartest when he wants her to speak. But Amy Santiago loves a good challenge. To his surprise, the always so consistent woman completely fails, moans turning into small screams as she chases her peak, and Jake can only forgive her inability to answer him right away. It doesn’t refrain him from insisting a few moments later though. 

“What did you say, baby?”

Every word is punctuated with a thrust, thrusts that go deeper than before, and Amy on her part is a wreck barely clinging onto him and the wall behind her.  

“I-I said…” melts into a groan when he, once again, strikes just the right spot. “I said that I’ve never been fucked like this before.” 

“Didn’t think so.”

Jake grins rather proudly even though, in reality, he’s competing with himself. Beads of sweat trickle down from under his wavy bangs who by now are very much soaked, plastered to his forehead like a wet (but also kinda cute, if you ask Amy) mop. In every which way possible, there’s something very special and satisfying about a chuffing, puffed-up, sweaty Jake holding her like he currently is, taking on this commanding role of Andrew, and Amy is sure: she won’t mind revisiting this act some other time. 

 “Be a good girl: suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.”

His hand that was once on her cheek presents itself, and Amy doesn’t even have the time to feel embarrassed about how quickly, without any second thought, she opens her mouth for them. Obeying is part of her DNA and dutiful as Amy Santiago is she immediately welcomes his index and middle finger into her mouth, sucking on them with a great commitment that Jake undoubtedly appreciates. 

“Good girl,” he praises, their eyes’ locked in their perhaps most intense staring contest ever. Amy makes sure to take his fingers all the way in, lips reaching his knuckles, and Jake almost forgets his agenda. 

Keyword: almost. 

After slowing down the pace of his thrusts and retracting his fingers, to Amy’s great chagrin, the hand drops to between her legs, and his fingers are added to the mix, the chasing of her climax, and oh it definitely works. Amy’s whining reaches a brand new level, hitting a high note he’s never heard before, and he can feel her tense around his cock and fingers. She’s almost there, and even though Amy, in the red strappy dress, taking him so well, is a piece of art that he’d like to hang on a wall forever, he knows she needs release. And so does he. 

 “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that. Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s very distracting yet I can’t look away.”

High-pitched moans and whimpers are all he gets in return. His fingers slip out of her heat, now even wetter than after being sucked on, but don’t go far and redirect to give her clit the final attention. 

“If you keep making those sounds I’m not going to be able to stop myself.” He chuckles, leaning in just far enough to peck her lips, and if they hadn’t only been dating for a couple of months, the best couple of months ever , he would be pretty sure of the fact that he’s very much in love with Amy Santiago, Cassidy, Dora and every other version of his incredible girlfriend. 

“T-then don’t.”

So he doesn’t, her word is her command after all, and a couple of strokes and thrusts later, nibbling on her clavicle with just a bit more teeth than intended but too blown away to be able to control it, she lets out a cry as she comes apart around him. Limbs going limp, just barely managing to cling onto his body and avoiding a fall to the floor, Amy reaches and crashes completely, hitting a climax for the record books. Jake follows right behind, coming into her,  riding it out with her aftershock, and then the room goes silent as if nothing had happened. Only their heavy breathing is to be heard. 

“Shit,” she pants.

“The good kind?” he chuckles pulling out of her, but still carrying her. 

“The very good kind, Andrew . Maybe the best one yet.”

They share a small laugh as she pushes his sweaty hair back, admiring the admiration in his eyes that seconds ago were darker than the pitch-black night sky outside her window. How fast they can switch will never cease to amaze her. 

“Kinda sucks I let another man beat that record.”

“Well…” she leans in, offering him a consolatory kiss that he gladly accepts, before she pulls back, just an inch, to whispers against his lips. “The night is young. Andrew had his turn, now Jake Peralta can show me his worth.” 

“Holy shit- Amy Santiago, you’re going to be the death of me.”

It’s safe to say that Jake wins back the record and Amy eventually ends up washing her dress. Twice. On the warmest setting possible. 

[blux-baby]

( Timothee Chalamet, 24, Male, He/Him ) Was that Blue Ruben Daniels ? I heard a rumor they work for the Faust family, but who knows for sure ? they can be a bit Anxious & Blunt, but I also heard they can be Intelligent & Emergetic. you’ll usually find them at WOLVES in their spare time, when they’re not being a Get Away Driver. you may want to keep an eye on that one ! (

Tw: Drug Abuse, Addiction, Child Abuse

Character

Name: Blue Ruben Daniels Birthdate and Age: 24. January, 21, 1994

Preferred Pronouns: He/Him

Faceclaim: Timothee Chalamet Sexuality: Homosexual Relationship Status: Single

Siblings: Step Sister: Becca Belb Father: Thomas Aaron Daniels Mother: Carmon Josie Botton Other Family: Elizabeth may Gelb (Step-Mother) General Family Relations: Complicated

Current Living Situation: Living in a Southside apartment building. It’s very run down and normally just a place he sleeps.

Personality: Good Traits: Loyal, Intelligent, Energetic, Fast Thinking, Passionate. Negative Traits: Anxious, Shy, Blunt, Emotional, Unstable.

Three Things He Loves: Cars, Heroine, Sweets, Music.

Three Things He Hates: Being Cold, Tiny spaces, Crowds.

Nervous Ticks: Stuttering, Picking at clothing, shuffling on the spot. Nicknames: Baby Blue, Roo, Daniels

History:

Blue Ruben Daniels was born and raised on the South Side. His father Thomas and mother Carmon had not planned to have a child but they where happy enough to have one. They had been together for just a few months and after Blue was born they planned on get married. It was fast and they knew that but still, things started to fall in line. Thomas and Carmon quickly moved in with one another and that was when things started to fall apart.

It was clear from the first week moving forwards that Thomas and Carmon where not going to last long living together. They clearly had different ways of parenting and living in general. And then there was Carmon’s mental health. Thomas was aware of her diagnosis of Bipolar disorder. However, while they were dating she was on medication and when she became pregnant she had to get off of it. Once Blue was born she refused to go back to the medication and started to fall apart. Within a year, she quite her job, cheated twice on Thomas and received two DYI’s. Carmon Bottom quickly became the latest wack job on the block. Worse yet, one of the DYI’s she was given happened while Blue was in the car.

After that Thomas separated himself from Carmon and filed for full custody of Blue. He moved across the neighbourhood. For the next six years Blue lived with his father consistently until Carmon started to fight his full custody claim. She was granted one weekend a month with him as she had quit drinking and was back on her medication. Which was great but it didn’t last.

Blue was ten when Carmon dropped off the wagon again. She exposed him to drinking at that point and would often kick him out of the house when she got annoyed with his voice.  He spent a few nights outside but never really told anyone about it. He felt like he needed to take care of his mother when he was with her for that weekend but that was impossible.

Things escalated for Blue from there. He went from drinking to smoking pot by the time he was thirteen. He had been smoking cigarettes for two years by the time his father noticed when he was fifteen. That was the same year that Thomas remarried.  Elizabeth Connors was lovely to Blue. She was actually the first person he ever came out to as Homosexual when he was sixteen. He was high off his ass when he did it but she wrapped him in a lot of love. So did the rest of the family. Minus Cameron. His birth mother turned on him. She was raised terribly Homophobic and only used it as a weapon against Blue.

Elizabeth was also the first person to catch Blue shooting up Heroin. She, of course, told Thomas and upon searching Blue’s room while he was at school they discovered the full extent of his addiction. Coke, pot, alcohol, and heroin all hidden around his room. They sent him to rehab that evening. Thomas set out to get full custody of Blue once more after Blue came clean about his mother giving him his first dose of Heroin, his first drink. After being assessed in Rehab it was clear that Blue was addicted to Alcohol and Heroin.  He stayed for his thirty days and then was let out and for about four months was clean. It was only when he went back to school and got into it with his old friends that once again drugs became Blue’s whole life. Shortly after his father once again caught him with a needle in his arm. He was told that he was going back to rehab in the morning and instead Blue took off. He went to live with his mom and then at Eighteen moved out on his own. His only rock threw everything, threw his whole childhood, was Teddy. His across the street neighbour to his mothers house. Blue found himself a safe place in Teddy. They often hid out each others houses when there respective parents weren’t around. They stayed friends through everything. And when Blue finally gave up on his family, Teddy was there to give him a job. A get away driver was perfect for Blue. It paid well, it allowed him to keep his habits on the down low and he loved to drive. Learning the back roads and quick paths that no one else took quickly became a joy of his. He still stays very close to Teddy these days. He’s the only really consistent thing that Blue has going for him.

Character Update:  Blue has been off heroin for about two months now, although he is still drinking a lot.

Theme songs:

The Only Thing by Sufjan Stevens Delicate by Damian Rice Goner by Twenty-One Pilots Sick in the Head by Lumineers What is Yet by Blind Pilots The Night We Meet by Lord Huron

[weelittlewain]

Leader Of The Landslide

5.7.2020

I remember the last time I did cocaine. It was at my friend’s house and I was invited into a room hastily. I was not sure what was going on until they said, “Hey alleycat, I have some but don’t tell anyone because everyone will want some. You know how it goes.”

I keep doing it throughout the night and I feel guilty because I did not tell Kelly I was doing it. She had basically said you have to stop partying and doing this to yourself or we will no longer continue dating. Looking back I am sure it was hard for her to see someone she cared about wasting away.

I went to a bathroom in the house that was being renovated and stared at the mirror for a few minutes. I thought about how late it was and how I would even get home. I had work the next morning and there was no way in hell I could stay at this house. I said my goodbyes after a few chained smoked cigarettes and hit the road. Less than a quarter mile from the house a state trooper begins to tail me. I had already decided to take the back roads back to our house because I would panic taking the highway.

Amphetamines pumping through my veins I am checking my rearview mirror about every 5 seconds. That car followed me for about 15 minutes before it took a different turn. I have never in my entire life been afraid of everything falling apart. I envisioned countless scenarios in my head of what would happen once I saw those red and blue lights flicker in my rearview mirror. I thought about my privilege as a white woman and if that would be the only thing that saved me from getting a DUI and completely altering the course of my life. I cried when I pulled into my parking lot. I was shaking and chain-smoked a few more cigarettes before calming down enough to go inside. I cannot remember if I immediately woke Kelly up or not but we talked the next day and I explained everything. I told her that was the last time I was ever doing cocaine and that I needed her support. I apologized for being a complete mess but told her it was my responsibility to handle.

That was almost four years ago. It was right after we started dating. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about how incredibly lucky I am for never getting pulled over while under the influence. Especially in the summer of 2015 – when I was lonely as they come – I would stay up till sunrise because I had no choice. I would go to the prairie and watch as the sun came up and the fog began to lift. Some nights I would ride around town red-eyed smoking a cigarette to my favorite Lana Del Rey songs. Some occasions I rode around with the windows rolled down trying to recreate Ashley, Tessa, Maddie and I in Ashley’s red convertible singing Born To Die off-key. Some nights I wondered how different my life would be if I could just call Tessa. That was not an option though, because Tessa was dead.

I think sobriety has different levels for some people. I know for myself with smoking I had to slowly wean myself off of it. I never went cold turkey, there just came a day where I did not crave another cigarette it was wild. I dreamed about smoking for months after though. Let’s be honest here, cocaine was not my only vice – I loved to drink. When I was no longer popping Klonopin, Codeine, and every other pill designed to put you on your ass – I was still drinking heavily. It could never just be one drink. I am happy that my relationship with alcohol is completely different and no longer dependent.

I think that is why I could never do AA or NA because every time you relapse or have a sip of alcohol the shame that can come with that can be enough to send someone over the edge. The religious overtones make me want to gag. It works for some people I suppose. When I was doing a rehab program they asked me if I was still using drugs. In my streak of honesty I told them I was and they replied, “Why are you doing that?” I explained that I have a lot of trauma and especially going out can randomly trigger me because of my sexual assaults so I feel the need to dispose of those bad feelings. Lack any sort of empathy they replied, “If you continue to use drugs we will have to end your treatment.” I basically told the doctor that he was an asshole and told his assistant to read ‘Chasing The Scream’ because maybe then they would understand what it’s like to be a drug addict. I never went back and from then on I was essentially on my own but I was still in therapy.

I suppose the only part of AA or NA that I understand is steps 8 and 9. Step 8 is making a list of all the people you had harmed and become willing to make amends to them all. Step 9 is making direct amends to them all except if doing so would cause themselves or someone else harm. I did not realize the time spent groveling over making my mistakes and apologizing profusely was apart of my healing. I do believe I was overzealous in my attempts to apologize to others about my behavior. I think because I knew that wasn’t my real character it was hard to have someone with a different narrative in his or her head about me. However, I have done the work and it is none of my business what people think of me – especially after I have done my part to try and fix things. I do believe though sometimes when people still don’t accept you it can be a lesson. The whole purpose of apologizing was to be genuine in the first place and I was not doing someone a favor by making amends. I did feel at times my efforts were in vain but that was on me and my own struggle to work through. No one owes me anything.

The reason I bring up amends is because before I moved to Ireland someone wanted to see me before I left – to say goodbye. I did not have a friendship with this person because it was imperative to my relationship to have this person out of my life completely. We met up and they brought me my favorite iced drink from a coffee shop downtown.

She said to me that it had never occurred to her until I was leaving that she had never processed our relationship and everything that happened. It was a surreal feeling because I remember in the summer of 2015 & 2016 being heartbroken by this person and thinking it would never be okay. She said she could tell that I had put in the work and processed it and that’s why I was better off than she was. I knew she struggled with sobriety and the whole reason I met up with her was because I wanted her to know that I did not hate her.

I knew for myself when I wanted forgiveness and did not receive it – it completely devastated me. I am no saint but I knew how important it was for an addict to make amends so I made the effort to do so. I used to worry all the time my friend Ryan would text me that something happened to her. I told her that if anything ever happened to her I would be beside myself and that above all I forgave her for everything. I could tell there was a wave of relief.

I did a lot of fucked up things that I am not proud of. What I wouldn’t do to go back in time and prevent myself from hurting the people I cared about. I am sure this pandemic is quite lonesome and everyone is coming out of the woodworks. She messaged me, which was surprising because I had her blocked on everything – which I am sure other people have felt the same seeing my handle pop up on their screen.

She was concerned about me and I reassured her everything was fine. She was grateful for the reply and I guess in a way I was grateful to know she was still alive too.

When I first heard this song The Lumineers had not released the album yet. Kelly and I were swaying in the crowd and the lead singer explains his family member is a drug addict. He starts to strum his guitar while telling the backstory. The song is about their woes over the years trying to help this person and it not always going to plan. He has no idea where his homeless family member is. I think about myself being the tumultuous person in various people’s lives and my actions ripping them apart. I think about being in that diner when Tessa called to tell Ashley and I that her boyfriend was beating her. I think about planning my 21st birthday party and then Tessa who was supposed to be there was dead. The song played and I cried the entire time. After it was over I needed a minute and we walked to the next set. It is one of my favorite Lumineers songs of all time now.

The line, “Maybe when she’s dead and gone I’ll get some sleep.” Fuck. Gets me every time.