#the pump and dump warning was so real | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

etherealising · 1 year ago

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mikey’s funeral 😪 tiff, eva and richie with baby 😭 i hope in season 3 we find out more about how richie and tiff split up 😐 cause like why would you do that to him

honestly same, because like i know Richie is kind of chaotic but like i love him so much and he just deserves happiness 😭

OMFGGGGG SHE WENT TO VISIT HIMMMM !!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHH! FIVE !! YEARS!!!!!

ugh i was so emotional writing this scene like these two need to get it together!!!!

oh my like he HAD FOOD READY FOR HER!

he said can’t let the wifey go cold and hungry 😤

🥹🥹 girl pleaseeee this is so sad like WHY DOES HER MAKE HER FEEL THIS WAY

like Carmy genuinely needs therapy to flush out why he self-sabotages so much, like your happy ending is right in front of you accept it please! 😭

carmen 😐 UGHHH HE FRUSTRATES ME

sammeeee mans is such a hypocrite, i can’t be what you want but i can lead you on this entire weekend (but i mean baby could’ve left at any moment so 😬)

they’re being so awkward around each other like y’all need to kiss now!!!

they’re so awkward and its so endearing, like they never got to have that teenage love stage and so everything is kinda pouring out all at once!

🧍🏼🧍🏻‍♀️ < baby and carmy

me and my readers 👀

WILLIE!! that’s so cute like everyone KNOWS YALL ARE IN LOVE LISTEN TO HIM!!!!! DO SOMETHING!!

literally everyone knows they’re in love!! so i picked the tittle of this chapter before i even invented willie but after writing him i realized how much it really fit the whole ‘anyone who had a heart’ by dionne warwick vibes and i cried : (

look at these “friends”

like these losers are not slick, a teenage girl would snap a photo of these two on the tube and post it on her finsta talking about ‘old people in love make me sick’

AHHHH OMG ITS HAPPENING AGAIN!!!!

carmy’s just coasting through life thinking its normal to kiss your (ex)best friend

we know carmen, we know.

🎶 carmen carmen doesn’t have a problem lying to himself cause HE’S FUCKING DELUSIONAL AND IS SCARED OF HAPPINESS 🎶

THE TATTOOOOO 😪

can’t lie this line was just for me like imagine carmy asking you if you want his last name!!! i am folding so hard! 😭

YOU TOOK A POLAROID OF USSSSS THEN DISCOVERED THE REST OF THE WORLD WAS BLACK AND WHITE BUT WE WERE IN SCREAMING COLOR WND I REMEMBER THINKING ARE WE OUT OF THEE WOODS - out of the woods is so carmy/baby coded i have a list of tay tay songs that are them that i keep forgetting to send you

please grace me with the list i am sobbing i love this so much! i’m such a casual listener of taylor swift but like i need to get back into because she literally has a song for every freaking occasion!!!

no please no i can’t please stay please stay please stay (all you had to do was STAY)

all he had to do was ASK AND BABY WOULD’VE DROPPED EVERYTHING FOR HIM!

THE CHAIN!!!! ok i think she probably leaves the chain when she leaves like probably with a note or just leaves it like and then he comes home and like cries…

THE CHAIN!!!! 😭 no but like this is such a messy and vulnerable time for carmy, like mikey just died, he kind of ‘fixed’ things with baby (just to screw them up) but i think baby needed to leave because it would have just been a messy toxic co-dependent relationship because of the circumstances, but also like if she would’ve stayed she might not have OD idk just a thought though….

no but your analysis had me giggling and kicking my feet!! you guys may not believe me but i literally get emotional seeing how much you all love this fic. because like i love it so much and just sharing something i love with strangers on the internet has been a really healing journey for me idk 🥹

interlude two | anyone who had a heart

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

summary: the devastion of mikey's passing pushes baby into the arms of the man she loves the most.

wc: 17.3k

edited to the best of my abilities. if things don't make sense i apologize!

March 1, 2022

The rain rhythmically bounced off the umbrella in Richie’s hand. Both of you huddled under the slightly too-small object, the majority of your bodies dry, but each of you felt your fair share of rain land squarely on you. The child in front of you, dry as a desert, her small stature an advantage.

All that could be heard was nature's tears singing against the various umbrellas and the voice of the priest that seemed to just drone on and on.

Donna’s cry’s had been relegated to silent sobs just moments ago, you watched as Nat put her own hurt and discomfort aside to assuage Donna’s nerves.

You had all but ignored the empty seat situated next to Natalie, not wanting to believe the truth of the situation. As you stared at the coffin resting several feet in front of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what the cold lifeless body lying inside looked like. You knew there was only so much that could be done to make a body with a hole in its head presentable, and that a closed-casket funeral was for the best.

It was selfish, but you wanted one last look at Mikey. Did he look peaceful? Was he finally freed from the vices that had for so long controlled him? You so hoped that wherever he was, wherever his soul found its spiritual comforts he was at peace.

A tug on the sleeve of your coat drew your attention. Looking down your eyes met Eva's, the little girl insisted on standing with you, her small toddler hand securely wrapped in your adult one. It felt a little odd to be standing here like this, a buffer between a family that was no more, while also serving as the memory of one family’s missing piece.

She raised her arms in a signal to be picked up. Funerals were no place for children to be, but what good was lying to them about the realities of life? You gently lifted her into your arms sitting her on your hip comfortably. Eva’s small head rested against yours playing with the pearls around your neck, the small girl could only understand so much of what was going on around her.

You felt Tiff step closer to you, arm wrapping around your waist so she leaned into Eva’s back. The comfort of the small family surrounding you keeps you grounded to the moment in front of you, not allowing your mind to think of the pain Mikey must’ve been in, or the voicemail that had gone unchecked for the past week.

Funerals were a funny thing for you, the last one you attended was your mom’s. And it wasn’t a competition, but her death was easier. That’s the thing with terminal illness; death is inevitable. You would never be prepared for any death in your life, but it was a bit easier knowing your mom didn’t have a fighting chance. Her decision to leave this realm behind was harder, but knowing her passing was painless and of her own volition helped.

But Mikey’s death was different. It was sudden, unexpected, and messy and it wasn’t the death Michael deserved. But what made it all the worse for you is that he was utterly and terribly alone.

And it wasn’t like anyone wasn’t privy to his substance abuse, but none of you knew the depths to which it ate away at him, how it slowly killed him and he kept pushing on for the sake of others.

Maybe you should’ve asked him more about how he was doing when you interviewed him. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent him a portion of your article. Standing at the cemetery as the funeral continued, even with little Eva cuddling into you and Tiff and Richie surrounding you; you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to all the things you could’ve done to save Mikey from himself.

Eva was asleep against your chest as you made your way to the fresh grave, Tiff in front of you and Richie closely behind doing his best to cover your small group with the umbrella. The rain hadn’t let up as you raised your dirt-filled hand over the pristine casket, this didn’t feel right at all. You had yet to cry since Sugar called you days ago with the news, it felt as though you were numb to the truth. Maybe it was your mind's way of protecting you.

But as long as the casket remained closed, and you never got one last peek at the man who had taught you that you deserved more than what you settled for. You could pretend for just a little longer that none of this was real.

Releasing your grip on the dirt you watched as it splashed across the top of the casket mixing with the droplets of rain. You hesitated for a minute turning your back on this casket felt too final, like leaving this cemetery would be closing a door in your life you were desperate to keep open.

Richie’s free hand came up to your shoulder, a soft squeeze pressed into your jacket. You looked back at him the same hurt and pain you were feeling reflected on his face. He gave you a small nod as a way to let you know that it was okay to walk away, that he understood the hurt you were feeling.

As Tiff walked off to her car, you held Eva in one hand and allowed Richie to grip your other. The warm grasp of his hand gave you the strength to turn your back and walk away from a man whose love, charisma, and smile you would never be blessed to see or experience again.

March 12, 2022

Carmy sat on his lawn chair watching the rain splash against the window that led to his balcony, the funeral program rested lazily on his lap held in place by his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He didn’t realize it but this had been his routine since he learned of his brother's passing.

He would come home not even bothering to change out of his work clothes and plop down in the creaky lawn chair, usually on his balcony but recently the weather hadn’t been calm enough for that.

Light up a cigarette and just bask in his despair.

The only difference had been the program he received in the mail a week ago. The newly acquired folded paper joined his after-work routine for the day after being left on the island in his kitchen since receiving it.

Carmy wasn’t sure if he was angry at Mikey for choosing death, or if he was more hurt by what they would never again be able to experience with each other. He felt like once again Mikey had left him behind, not thinking about the ways his actions would affect those around him, affect the people who loved him.

The decision to skip the funeral wasn’t as hard as most would have thought. What good would Carmy have to offer by being there, it's not like anyone needed him. And anyway, he couldn’t just drop everything happening here in New York for a day, life didn’t work that way for him.

Carmy knew he didn’t hate Mikey, he just didn’t understand his choices recently. Didn’t necessarily understand how much the prescriptions had fucked with his mind. And maybe in a selfish way, he wasn’t ready to understand, to forgive Mikey for leaving him so soon. Nothing to even show for the loss of the person who inspired him most besides the funeral program as an ugly reminder of what he could never be again.

A soft knock rang through the quiet apartment, the man inside happy to ignore it, sure it was just one of his neighbors doing whatever weird shit they usually did. He removed a cigarette from his pack standing up and setting the program in the chair before grabbing his lighter and moving to open the window.

He heard it again, this time a bit louder and more urgent sounding. Carmy removed his phone from his pocket, the generic lock screen shining up at him with the time reading 2:30 am.

No one had ever shown up at his apartment this late, not even the woman across the way who periodically tried to charm Carmy all kinds of inconvenient times of the night. The knocking finally stopped as muffled voices carried through the hallway outside his door.

Carmy wouldn’t consider himself a nosy neighbor but he did find himself a bit curious who was knocking at his door at such an hour it alerted another tenant. Cigarette sitting between his lips he made his way to the door, ear leaned against it as he tried to catch bits and pieces of the conversation happening out there.

Having no such luck he resorted to checking the peephole to find his neighbor outside her door talking with a woman who appeared to be soaked to the bone. Carmy watched for a moment, he couldn’t place it but something about the unknown woman looked familiar to him. He continued watching his neighbor motioning for the woman to wait outside for a moment while she grabbed something from her apartment.

Carmy was ready to return to his initial smoke break but found himself stopping as the woman faced his door. Heart stopping as he took in features he would remember for a lifetime. He quickly moved to unlock his door, throwing it open only to surprise the ghost of a woman standing in his hallway.

You ceased your knocking as you heard a door opening behind you, turning to face a woman who appeared to be around the same age as you. From her appearance, it didn’t seem like you had woken her up so you were grateful for that fact.

“You’re making a mess in the hallway,” her eyes traveled over your form. Your figure sopping wet from the downpour you just escaped from.

A tired sigh left your lips, “Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know the guy who lives here?” Your hand motioned to the door that was at your back that you had just been knocking on.

“You a friend or something?” The skepticism in the woman’s voice irked you, it was a yes or no question there was no need for her to give you the third degree.

You nodded trying to keep your cool. You were tired, dripping wet, and you weren’t even sure if Carmy was home. “Yeah, something like that.”

She gave you another once over before shaking her head back and forth, “No I don’t, sorry.” She began to close her door before you called out to her one last time.

“Wait sorry, is there any way I could use your phone, mine is dead,” you presented your phone as evidence, you didn’t want to be in this woman’s presence any more than she wanted to put up with you, but you needed to at least call a cab.

The subtle roll of her eyes caused the grip on your phone to tighten, luckily though the woman gave you a gesture to wait there before returning to her apartment.

You let out a sigh of relief, head dropping as your thoughts raced. You had no idea what the hell was going through your mind when you booked the last-minute flight. Having found Carmen’s address written on a forgotten piece of paper lying in the kitchen of the Berzatto family home.

The excuse to Sugar was that you had to meet with a potential interviewee for an upcoming article and couldn’t reschedule. You had already been in Chicago for longer than you originally planned, so what was one impromptu plane ride to the east coast?

There was no sign that the woman you bothered was coming back anytime soon so you decided to cut your losses, you would find a pay phone or something to use. You turned around sending one last look at Carmy’s door, the feeling that this was all for nothing setting in.

You went to pick up your bag from the ground when the sounds of a door unlocking caught your attention, raising back up to your full height as you watched the door you were initially knocking on harshly swing open.

Separated by a threshold Carmen Berzatto stood in front of you clad in his disheveled chef whites looking just as exhausted as you felt. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry if this trip did end up paying off, but after five years without him, five years of hurting and hoping you could no longer hold back all the emotions the man evoked within you.

Your trembling lips raised into a pathetic smile as your eyes took all of him in, “Hi Carmy.”

The water dripped off of you as you awkwardly stood in the entryway to Carmy’s apartment. You watched him rush around to tidy up his apartment, he hadn’t said a word to you yet just opened his door wider with the expectation that you would enter.

“Carm,” your trembling voice doing nothing to stop the scrambling of the man in front of you.

“Carmen.” The name left your lips a little louder this time, finally gaining the man’s attention, his entire being turning in your direction but eyes never meeting yours. “Uh, could I maybe take a shower?”

Carmy’s head nodded rapidly, staying glued to his spot for a moment before he signaled for you to follow him. As you walked through the apartment to his bedroom you couldn’t help but take in just how Carmy-like the living space was.

Lacking personal touch and like he was ready to flee at a moment's notice; the only commitment the man could make was being a chef apparently.

You stopped in front of the bathroom looking around his room before finally focusing on him. “I, do you think I could borrow some clothes?”

Again Carmy nodded the man acting as though his voice box wasn’t working. You watched him move around his room wondering if he’d ever award you any form of attention or verbal acknowledgment. He stopped for a minute eyes finally finding yours, “Go ahead and get cleaned up, I’ll leave these on the bed.”

Your eyes found the contents in his hand before it was your turn to nod and head into the bathroom. You started the shower searching for a towel and washcloth as you waited for the water to heat up. This whole trip could very well be a mistake, but there was no going back now, you were here, and you had already used your miles.

Slipping out of your wet clothes felt like a struggle, the heavy fabric clinging to you like a second skin. You quickly stepped into the shower, not wanting any of the water to go to waste. The steaming water helped to relax you, all your worries about your visit being set aside as you basked in the warmth radiating around you.

After standing under the shower head and allowing the water to caress your skin, you reached for the products Carmy had lined up in his shower. The shower gel is the same brand you used all those years ago on Christmas. Looking at the bottle in your hands you couldn’t help but think of all the ways in which Carmy wronged you, why you had allowed him to constantly hurt you, a fact you still couldn’t figure out.

And you couldn’t stand here in his shower glaring at a bottle the whole time you were here either. You took your time lathering your body allowing the calming aroma of lavender to invade your senses. Finishing you returned everything to its proper spot before rinsing your body and shutting the shower off.

Stepping out you wrapped the large fluffy towel around your body not chancing a glance at your reflection as you exited the bathroom. The door to the bedroom was closed and the clothes you saw in Carmy’s hands earlier sat in a neat pile on the bed. You perused the selection of a clean pair of boxer shorts, one of his many crew necks and a pair of socks were laid out for you.

The deja vu the last few sequences of events had given you hadn’t gone unnoticed.

You would have to forgo a bra but you’d been in much more uncomfortable positions with Carmy than this. Dressing you made your way to the door, stopping for a moment to allow yourself a deep breath, you couldn’t be sure what you would be walking into. Along with the fact that you were in a city you had never been in and your return flight wasn’t for two more days, Carmy was your only option.

The warmth in the apartment slapped you in the face as you left Carmy’s room, the heater had been turned on. You followed the trail you had first taken finding your way to the living room that doubled as a kitchen.

“Sit,” you were almost ready to argue with Carmy’s demanding tone, but the food situated on the island counter stopped you.

You made your way to the lone stool taking a seat, trying not to marvel at the food in front of you. Carmy’s water bill would be high for the month, you had apparently been in the shower long enough for a dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup to be made. Carmy still hard at work making something on the stovetop sans his chef jacket.

Eyeing the food in front of you, you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered. You greedily picked up a slice of the grilled cheese and dipped it into the hearty soup, The sigh of appreciation not going unnoticed by the chef a few feet away from you, a small smirk gracing his lips at the quiet sound you let out.

“Good?” The question caught you off guard, mouth still full, swallowing the bite in your mouth you set the rest of the sandwich down, eyes zeroing in on Carmy’s biceps that were put on full display by his form-fitting white shirt.

“I’ve had better.” Carmy caught your shrug as he placed a steaming mug next to the rest of your food, doing his best not to outright smile at your stubborn attitude. He moved to lean his back against the sink, arms crossed over his chest as he studied you.

“Fuck Carmy,” the sigh left your lips reluctantly. “It’s actually fucking great.” So enthralled with the food set in front of you, you missed the pink blush that dusted across Carmy’s cheeks. The heat in the apartment almost felt like too much as the lewd words left your lips.

“Ahem, I uh, I’m gonna get cleaned up. Make yourself comfortable,” Carmy watched as you waved him off, the food you were eating stealing all of your attention.

Carmy watched you for a moment longer, still shocked that your physical presence was here in his apartment. He wasn’t sure what prompted this visit, or if he even deserved your attention after all the immature shit he had pulled. But he was thankful to see you doing well, to see you looking as though you belonged with him in his bland apartment the clothes comfortably sitting on your body providing him with a feeling of domesticity he was one day hoping to have with you.

The mug of hot chocolate in your hands helped to send warmth through your body. You were still sitting at the stool not sure what to do as Carmy freshened himself up. Now that you weren’t shivering cold and rushing through the apartment you could finally take in the less than cozy abode.

It wasn’t much but you were sure it was enough for Carmy, taking a few sips of your drink you began ambling around the apartment, mug still gripped in your hands, a tether to reality. The living room wasn’t messy but more so what you would describe as Carmy’s version of organized clutter.

A small couch and television helped to offer a homey feeling. The out-of-place lawn chair caught your eye, and the corner of your lips quirked up at how fucking Carmy it was. You made your way to the window it was sitting in front of, the New York skyline at this time of the day still a sight to see. The rain gliding down the window felt like it matched the steady pace of your heartbeat.

Turning to the lawn chair the contents in the seat grabbed your attention. Leaning over you picked up the unassuming paper, a jolt of sadness rushing through you as you read over the program. The funeral a week ago is still stuck in the back of your mind, the closed sleek black casket haunting your eyelids every night.

You quickly replaced the program in its original spot. You had come here intending to confront Carmy about his absence, but the more you stood in his apartment, the more you realized you weren’t actually ready to hear Carmy’s truth.

48 hours was all you had here, if you decided to use it as an escape, so be it. You would have to return to the reality that Mikey was dead sooner than later. You were allowed to let yourself use the time spent here as an escape from reality. You could use your time here to reprimand Carmy for his life decisions, or you could use the borrowed time to relish in finally seeing him after five years and try to figure out the back and forth the two of you have been participating in for a majority of your lives.

Mikey would understand, he wanted you to be happy, so it was okay to pretend for a little while that he’d be waiting there in Chicago when you got back right?

You made your way back to the kitchenette needing a distraction from the very thoughts you were running away from. You finished off your hot cocoa before grabbing your remaining dishes and heading to the sink. Washing dishes was the first distraction you could think of.

As you made your way to the sink the sound of a door opening and feet padding across the floor could be heard. Quickly turning on the faucet you reached for the dish rag sitting in the sink, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the pain that shot through the base of your palm, the running water easily turning a translucent pink color.

Snatching your hand back you spotted the blade of a knife that was covered in drops of your blood and haphazardly hidden under the dish rag. Your good hand reached to move the dish rag and grab the offending object.

Finally getting a good grip on the knife, you were shocked at the familiarity of it, the personal initials carved into the handle proving your theory. The last time you laid eyes on these they were neatly tucked away into a luxurious gift box that Carmy discarded just as easily as he discarded you the morning after Christmas.

And you thought they had been left in the same spot all these years, collecting dust in his childhood bedroom. But as you held a knife from the set in your hand, and your eyes moved to the remaining set delicately placed on the counter not too far away, you realized that to be nowhere near the truth.

“Yo, what the fuck Baby,” your attention turned to Carmy’s voice behind you his figure clad in a pair of sweats and a white tank top. That stupid fucking gold chain that you had dreamed of taking between your teeth one too many times glistened against the firmness of his chest.

The delicate grip on your injured hand tore your eyes from the sinful chain. Carmy’s eyes raised your hand to his face examining the seriousness of the wound, “What happened?”

“Cut myself,” you raised the knife in your hand to show him, watching as his eye darted between you and the tool he took so much pride in owning.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Carmen Berzatto’s attitude would never cease to surprise you.

You scoffed quickly snatching your hand from his grip, and walking to grab the dish towel hanging from his oven, “I didn’t do it on purpose you fucking idiot.”

Carmy began rummaging around in his cabinets his search not continuing for too long before he made his way over to you, first aid kit in his grasp. You were honestly surprised he owned one sure he’d rather bask in his pain than take care of himself.

Your good hand shot out aiming to grab the first aid kit from his hands. The slight slap to your hand caused your mouth to drop open, who the hell did he think he was?

“Give me the kit Carmen.” You watched as his eyes met yours, the once blank expression on his face morphing into a frown.

“Don’t say my name like that,” you rolled your eyes before reaching out once again, only to receive the same result. “Just let me help you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!”

You raised your eyebrows not expecting Carmy to yell at you. Your hand reluctantly came up between the two of you so he could bandage it up. It was official that you were weak for this man, the demanding tone in his voice shooting straight through you.

The two of you sat in silence as Carmy cleaned the cut, the consensus was that you didn’t need stitches so the ointment and bandages Carmy had would do. You watched as he worked, hands delicately mending your wound he was so focused on.

When he finished you lowered your hand watching as he cleaned up before you made your exit to the living room, sitting on one side of the couch. Your back was to the kitchen as Carmy finished tidying up, the only sign he followed you out was him walking around the couch in your peripheral.

He joined you on the couch choosing the safe option and sitting directly across from you, the space speaks volumes. You brought your legs up to your chest, if this was a month ago you probably would have let all your hurt and anger guide you in this moment.

But as life taught you, the universe was eager to snatch away people you thought you had forever with.

It was silent for a little longer, the both of you avoiding eye contact. You finally turned to face him wanting to understand the choices he made regarding the situation between you two.

“Carmy?” You rested your chin atop your knees as he finally provided you with his full attention, “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyebrows raised, whether, from shock or surprise, you couldn’t be sure. You watched as his eyes darted across the room like he was looking for an anchor. You weren’t too sure who adult Carmy was, because the boy you used to know easily held conversations with you, even the tough ones.

“I just…I want to understand you, Carmy. And I want to know why I’m not good enough for you,” as soon as those words left your lips it was like you were looking at 18-year-old Carmy again. “I thou-we seemed to be in a good place after Christmas dinner, but then I woke up alone and…and it felt like we were back at square one like you ghosted me all over again.��

You were staring directly into Carmy’s eyes, it was hard but it needed to be done. You needed him to see, to understand how much his actions continued hurting you.

His hand raised in a gesture you had seen too many times to count, fingers running through his hair. If he didn’t want to have this conversation you couldn’t force him to, but you also wouldn’t keep allowing him to run in and out of your life when it was convenient for him. The two of you were friends once, and you weren’t going to allow him to continue exploiting the love you had for him.

Your arms wrapped around your propped-up legs, a security blanket for the words you were about to force out. “You can be honest with me, Carmy. If you told me you wanted nothing to do with me I’d be on the next flight out of here.” You waited for anything, a sigh, words, but all you got was his steel blue eyes staring you down in the space across from you.

A sardonic chuckle escaped your lips as you quickly wiped the tears racing down your cheeks. Head falling back to stare at the ceiling as a way to not allow Carmy to see your tears, before calming yourself down enough to meet his gaze head-on.

“I can’t be the only one that wants more for us Carmy.” You could see the light reflecting off the glazed film in his eyes. “And I don’t think I am. But you’re inconsistent with your feelings, and I know it’s wrong of me to spring this on you considering the circumstances…but I just need honesty Carmy, that’s all.”

You said your peace, but you weren’t sure what else you could say to try to make him understand and maybe that was the problem, maybe he didn’t want to understand. You leaned into the couch cushion for comfort. The distance stretching between you was nowhere near as hurtful as the silence.

The fatigue from your flight was beginning to set in, you rushed everything to make it here that you hadn’t realized how much of a toll it took on you.

Carmy watched you from his side of the couch, arms crossed against his chest. There was so much he wanted to say to you but didn’t know how. He knew you deserved the truth, but it had never before been asked of him in this context. He was scared of the fact that he wanted more with you; it frightened him.

The idea he had of the two of you in his head was intoxicating and unnerving all at once. He could admit to himself that he dreamed of a life with you, and found himself lost in thought too many times to count about what it would be like to come home after a long shift to you there waiting for him.

Carmen was intoxicated by the idea of spending the rest of his life with you, a continuous beacon in your life that surpassed the title of friend and edged into something more. But he was unnerved as well because he wasn’t sure if this was love or infatuation.

Loving you unnerved Carmy, firstly because he wasn’t sure how he would know he was in love with you or not. And secondly, he didn’t know how to love you and wasn’t sure if he was capable of it. If there was one thing Carmy knew it was that you were deserving of a life-altering love, a love that transcended lifetimes if possible.

But he was almost positive he couldn’t be that person for you, he wasn’t deserving of you.

“I uh, I tried calling you,” Carmy stopped to collect himself, he wanted to talk to you, to let you understand him like you once did. “You changed your number. And that’s not an excuse. I understood why. I just…I guess I took it as a sign that there was nothing left for us.”

His eyes met yours searching for any sort of reaction, any form of acknowledgment. Your puffy eyes and tear-stained face stared back at him, his heart clenching in his chest at the emotional distress he constantly put you through.

“I um,” a placating smile raised to Carmy’s lips as he fumbled with his fingers as a distraction. “I can’t-Baby I-we both know I can’t give you what you deserve.” Carmy did his best to play off the watery undertone in his voice, eyes quickly darting up to yours as he heard your sniffles.

Carmy watched as your head rapidly nodded up and down, a sad knowing smile stretching across your lips. The tightness in his chest increased tenfold, his hand coming up to press into the middle of his chest, hoping to alleviate the pain.

“I um, I think I would like to go to sleep if that’s okay?” You raised your head to look at Carmy, you told him you would accept his rejection, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to hurt.

Carmy nodded getting up and walking towards you, holding his hand out to help you up. You allowed him to grasp your soft hand in his firm calloused one, head down as he led you to his bedroom. He motioned for you to sit down on his bed as he escaped into the bathroom, coming back a moment later with tissues in his hand.

You avoided his eyes as he bent down on his knees in front of you, gently using the collected tissue to dab at your puffy face. You couldn’t help the sorrowful laugh that escaped your lips, the scene reminded you of when the two of you were growing up and Carmy would always help clean your face after a good cry.

A tight smile formed on his lips as his eyes met yours, the two of you probably thinking of the same memories. He finished drying your face before returning to the bathroom to throw away the tissues. Carmy helped you up from the bed to pull down his comforter before allowing you to get in.

He watched as you scooted over to make room for him awaiting his entrance, “Uh lemme just tidy up out there.” Both of you knew it was an excuse but neither were brave enough to admit it.

Carmy quickly left the room heading straight for the small duffle you had brought with you. He was sure the rain had soaked through your bag and wet your belongings. Making his way to the closet where his washer and dryer were located he easily fit your clothes into the wash, not wanting you to be stuck in his clothes for however long you were there.

He found your laptop bag in there as well, quickly removing it from its confines and drying it with a clean kitchen towel. Placing the laptop on his counter he made his way around the kitchenette to clean up the mess your blood made and finish off the dishes you hadn’t been able to wash. All of this was a distraction to the warm body he knew was waiting up for him in bed, he felt the urge to prolong the inevitable but realized he might never get this chance again.

Carmy quickly finished his clean of the front room, it wasn’t up to his usual standards but he could no longer deny himself the thing he wanted most in that moment; to wrap you up in his arms and hope he’d never have to let go.

Making sure all appliances were off and starting the washer, he quickly made his way back into his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as he could. He stood in the middle of the room for a minute, the figure peacefully lying in his bed not something he was used to. Carmy quietly crept over to the empty side of the bed lifting the covers and allowing himself to slide in.

Carmy knew you weren’t asleep and any other time he might’ve felt embarrassed to be so eager to be near you, but something about being in your presence felt right. Carmy made sure to scoot close to you, arm moving to wrap around your midsection and bring you closer to him, the need to feel your body pressed against his barely being satisfied.

His face found its way to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath, the lavender scent he loved so much dancing across his senses. The sigh you let out into the night was a sign that you both wanted this just as much.

Carmy moved his head up a few inches, lips brushing against the ‘B’ hidden behind your ear. There wasn’t a day he didn’t think about the hidden ink stain or the words you said to him when he first found it.

Pressing one more soft kiss against the inkblot Carmy felt as you relaxed into him. Your warm body in his arms once more provided a feeling of bliss he wasn’t aware he needed.

You both knew the position you were in and the soft caress of Carmy’s lips against your skin, was a direct contradiction of the claims he made earlier. But neither of you would be the voice of reason in these 48 hours you had together.

Whatever happened between the two of you during this time would be welcomed with open arms. You and Carmy were on borrowed time, there would be time for regrets later, but as Carmy held you in his arms he decided that he would try to give you pieces of himself that no one had ever seen; even if it would all end in hours.

“Sweet dreams Baby.”

Carmy looked most at peace while sleeping, the stress and exhaustion seemed to have melted off of him as his mind transported him to the land of dreams.

You had been awake for some time now, Carmy’s presence helpful enough to allow you a few peaceful hours of sleep. But the inevitable thoughts of a life lost would always haunt you through the night. So here you were watching the slight rise and fall of Carmy’s chest, his lips parted slightly. He looked adorable like this but you felt a little weird just watching someone sleep.

Your hand raised gently moving the waves out of Carmy’s face, leaning in slightly to press a delicate kiss on his forehead before quietly making your way out of the bed. It was a little tricky to open the door without waking Carmy but you had managed.

Leaving the hallway that led to Carmy’s room you entered the living room, searching for the duffle you brought with you. Only to find it open on the floor, your toiletry bag the only item that remained in the bottom of the bag. Confusion swept across your face as you tried to figure out where the rest of your belongings were.

Looking around the living area you spotted your laptop resting on the counter, your laptop bag sitting on a towel next to it. You would figure things out later. The first thing you wanted to do right now was to brush your teeth.

You quickly tip-toed back into Carmy’s room and the bathroom quietly shutting the door behind you and beginning your morning routine. Now refreshed you exited the bathroom, a small smile gracing your lips as you took in Carmy’s still-sleeping figure.

Perusing the fridge and pantry you found a lack of any edible food. The few things available allowed you to whip up some French toast. You were no chef and maybe you should’ve left the cooking to Carmy but you were hoping this could be an olive branch for the two of you. If Carmy didn’t want to be with you romantically, maybe the two of you could work on mending your friendship.

Carmy woke up to an empty bed, his first thoughts that you had escaped in the night, his heart clenching a bit at the thought. He couldn’t be mad he pulled the same stunt on you, turning to lay on his back he stared at his ceiling, mind racing as he thought about the conversation from yesterday.

Carmy knew he wanted to be happy, and he also knew he wanted that with you. He just didn’t know the first thing about romantic love or how to explicitly make his wants clear to you. It seemed as though he’d never get that chance, you were serious about catching the next flight out.

Sitting up in bed he looked around, trying to gain his bearings. The sound of his bedroom door opening jolted him from his thoughts. He watched as you walked in with two plates in your hands, the smell of French toast invading his senses. His eyes found yours as you stopped in the doorway a small shy smile sent in his direction.

“I made us breakfast,” Carmy watched you make your way towards him, taking a plate off your hands as you sat on the bed in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind French toast, you uh didn’t have much to work with.”

Carmy’s eyes subtly lit up at the fact that you were still there, that you hadn’t left. “No, yeah this is great, you uh, used cinnamon and everything.” The shy teasing smile on Carmy’s face caused a small chuckle to bubble out of you.

The two of you ate in silence for the most part, each of you stealing glances at one another while the other wasn’t paying attention. Shy smiles sent each other’s way when one of you would catch the other’s eye.

You watched as Carmy took the plate from your hands and made his way to the door, you sat there for a moment watching him walk away before getting up and following behind him. You silently took a seat on the stool at the counter watching as Carmy began cleaning the remaining breakfast dishes.

The stretch of his back muscles under the tank top he was wearing was a sight to see. It surprised you a bit how toned Carmy was considering he lived and breathed being a chef, you didn’t expect him to have free time to worry about his physique.

You waited as Carmy finished sending him a small smile as he finally faced you. He made his way to you, the two of you separated by the counter, his forearms resting on the counter accentuated his toned biceps.

“I actually need to go to the farmer’s market today,” you waited to see if there was anything more he had to say but the silence drew on.

“Oh, I can stay here, I have work to finish.” You gestured your hand to the laptop not far from the two of you, trying not to let your disappointment show.

“Did you maybe wanna join me,” Carmy waited for your response, eyes darting around your face hoping you would say yes.

“Do you…want me to join you?” You could laugh, the two of you sitting here beating around the bush like two teenagers.

You waited as you took in Carmy’s shy demeanor, the blush rising from his neck, you were tempted to point it out but didn’t want him to close himself off like you were used to.

“I want you to come with me to the farmers market.” Carmy made sure to look you in the eyes as the words left his mouth, sure that he was red in the face but wanting you to know how much he wanted to spend time with you.

The two of you stared at each other for a while, the toothy grin on your face mirroring the his smaller one. The small nod of your head was everything Carmy needed to see for his heartbeat to calm down. He watched as you giddily got up from your seat presumably to get ready.

“Oh um did you do something with my clothes?” The smile didn’t seem to be leaving your face anytime soon.

Carmy cleared his throat hand raising to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah I, uh I washed them, they’re in my closet.”

You couldn’t deny that those words made your heart pick up speed a bit, the idea of feeling giddy that your clothes were in Carmy’s closet was a bit childish, but you would take what you could get at this point.

“Oh, okay I’ll just go get ready then.” Your hand gestured to the room behind you.

“Yeah,” Carmy couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of you getting ready in his apartment, it was almost like he could pretend this was his reality.

“Yeah,” you didn’t know why you were acting like a love-struck teenager but Carmy just brought it out of you.

“Okay,” Carmy nodded his head signaling you to take your leave.

“Oka-.”

“Baby just go get fucking ready.” A huff of laughter escaped Carmy at the way you were acting.

Carmy stood by the counter watching as you ran off to prepare yourself for the day. He couldn’t stop the smile from gracing his lips as he listened to your melodic laughter sing through the emptiness of his apartment.

You had split from Carmy a few booths back, the two of you deciding it was for the best. Your constant wandering off to booths that intrigued you put Carmy in a panic when he would look to see you no longer at his side.

It was your first time in New York and you were just happy to take in this small portion of what the city had to offer. The farmer’s market here was similar to the ones you’d been to back home, though the weather would take some getting used to, not like you needed to. You’d be back in Chicago before you knew it.

You found a small flea market-type area towards the back of the farmers market. Vendors gathered around selling handmade items and keepsakes. A few minutes into your perusal of the area you found a vendor selling handmade clothing items. A pretty cami dress caught your eye that the vendor exclaimed you just had to have, and who were you to turn down a beautiful dress selling for a decent price in the streets of New York.

With the dress nicely tucked away into a paper bag gently swinging from your arm, you decided it was time to make your way back to the entrance of the farmers market and wait for Carmy. On your journey back you stopped at a vendor selling handmade leather goods, a particular leather wallet drawing your attention.

The familiarity of it caused you to let loose a shuddering breath, the small item reminded you of Mikey’s wallet. Although his was more used, worn in. Standing on this street and looking down at the pristine wallet in front of you was almost like looking at a replica.

You remembered asking him once why he chose to use the ratty old thing and the smart-ass response he had given you. The fact that an inanimate object that had no ties to Mikey was causing this sort of reaction inside you, felt too real, it felt like grief was prepared to sink its claws into you.

And you couldn’t allow it, because you were in New York finally on somewhat good terms with Carmy. And Mikey would be waiting for your return to Chicago, eager to hear about your time with his little brother.

“Would you like to buy it, miss?” Your eyes found the vendors, a forced smile tracing your lips.

You slowly shook your head feeling a little bad for turning down goods from a small business, you just didn’t need the wallet, especially not one that would remind you of him every day.

The walk back to the farmers market felt melancholy: the promise to yourself to compartmentalize Mikey and his situation was becoming harder the more time you spent alone. Your search for Carmy became more urgent the longer you couldn’t find him. The racing images of Mikey’s casket swirling with your recent moments spent in Carmy’s presence.

You didn’t want to burden Carmy with the debilitating thoughts you were having, not wanting to ruin the good thing the two of you had going. Neither of you brought up the elephant in the room and it seemed like neither of you was going to. The both of you content to live in momentary bliss for the time you had together.

It felt like you were spiraling and all because of some stupid too similar fucking wallet. You finally made your way to the entrance of the market hoping Carmy would know to look for you there.

Carmy gathered the ingredients necessary for the dinner he planned for tonight, luckily for him the restaurant was closed on Sundays so he could spend the day with you.

He still wasn’t sure that any of this was real. You showing up outside his apartment at two in the morning, holding you as you slept, and now adventuring out to the market he frequented, it all felt like a dream.

There was one last stop Carmy needed to make before he met up with you. He made his way to the old flower vendor who was always the first one here to ensure he set up a show at the entrance. Carmy had his fair share of conversations with the man but had never actually bought any flowers off of him, but today was the day that changed.

“Carmen is that you?” Carmy raised his head from the flowers he was glancing at, the old man sitting on the stool smiling his way.

“Yes sir. How you doing today Willie?” Carmy wasn’t much into friends or acquaintances since the two of you parted ways all those years ago, but Willie was a special case. Always kind, on Carmy’s first visit to this particular market the older man had explained to him the layout and gave him insider information about what times were best to come to ensure he got the freshest ingredients from each vendor.

“You thinking about buying something today son?” The older man rose from his seated position plopping the paper he was reading in his place.

Carmy nodded eyes going back to the various flowers to choose from. This wasn’t Carmy, he had never done something like this, not willingly at least. But he knew flowers could symbolize different things, and have different meanings. And if he couldn’t figure out how to be straightforward and speak with you, maybe a hand-picked bouquet could solve that issue.

“Looking for anything in particular?” He glanced at Willie, a slight frown marring his face, he genuinely had no idea.

Carmy chuckled, hand raising to scratch the nape of his neck, “I’m not sure Willie.” He felt a little embarrassed. How was he to translate his feelings to you through horticulture if he knew nothing about flowers and their meanings.

“Well help me out boy, tell me who they’re for an maybe I can whip something up for you.” It was like perfect timing as Carmy heard your voice trickling into his ears. You were standing on the other side of the entrance phone to your ear as you spoke to somebody, a look of exhaustion on your features.

Carmy’s eyes caught yours as you glanced in his direction, he watched that beautiful smile appear as you quickly ended the call with whoever you were talking to, smile mirroring yours as you two stared at each other across the distance. Your hand raised in a shy wave smile growing wider as Carmy reciprocated the gesture.

“Now Carmen, why didn’t you tell me these were for your old lady,” Carmy’s head shot around to find Willie smirking at him from his side of the booth. “Is that the young lady in that picture you keep in your wallet?”

Carmy watched frozen, as Willie moved around his booth, trying his best to figure out when the older man had ever caught a glance at the picture of you two. “Uh, she’s just a friend sir.”

“Listen, boy, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. And I know you betta not be lying to that pretty girl over there.” The flowers in Willie’s hand were used to point in your direction.

“I saw the way she looked at you just now son, that girl is in love,” Carmy listened as Willie began constructing the bouquet, ears tuned to what the man was saying.

“I’ll give it to you straight boy, you’re gonna regret every chance you didn’t take with that young lady. Now I don’t know the situation between you two, but what I do know is that you look at that girl like she invented oxygen, I know because that’s how I looked at my Debbie.” Carmy was raptly intrigued with Willie’s words, watching the sad smile take over his lips as he mentioned his recently deceased wife.

“And from our interactions you don’t seem to me like the type to let rare opportunities pass you by,” the bouquet seemed to be pretty much finished, the older man just putting the final touches. “Now you give that pretty young lady this here bouquet, you make her a nice dinner like I’m sure you planned. And you let her know how much you appreciate her.”

Carmy nodded his head rapidly trying to take in everything the older man said. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Willie wave you over to them.

“Excuse me miss? Why don’t you come on over here and join us.” Carmy could feel the panic rising within him.

“N- Willie No don-.”

“Hush up boy and introduce me to your lovely girl.” You stopped next to Carmy eyes widening as you took in the unknown man's words.

You looked at Carmy as he brought his hand up to swipe across his mouth, a tight-lipped smile lining his lips afterwards.

“Hi sweetie I’m Willie Carmen’s only friend in this city,” you laughed as the man winked at you before holding his hand out listening as you introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you Willie, you have some beautiful flowers, do you harvest them yourself?” The man in front of you waved off the compliment with a serene smile on his face.

“My wife and I started selling at this market 20 years ago. This is my first year without her.” The smile on your lips faltered as you offered your condolences.

“Now I don’t wanna keep you too long, but this bouquet here is for you to miss.” You looked at Carmy before your eyes found Willie’s again, your cheeks warming at what the man was insinuating.

“Oh um, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” Your wallet was out and ready in your hand, Carmy’s hand shooting out to stop you as he thrust money forward.

“Y’all put that money away now,” Willie shook his head scoffing at the idea of either of you paying.

He held out the bouquet in your direction, the smile lining his face urged you to take it. You couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful bouquet, the colorful assortment helping to ease the foreboding feeling you had earlier.

“Our friend Carmen here chose each of those flowers,” you looked in Carmy’s direction, the blush on his face so endearing to you. “I went on ahead and tucked a card in there with their meanings. You two make a fine pair, don’t let life get in the way of the love you share, you hear me?”

You nodded avoiding Carmy’s eyes like your life depended on it, easily listening to the wisdom Willie was bestowing upon the two of you.

“The world is kind but she is also cruel. She will take away the things we love even if we’re not ready to part with them. Love each other loudly and with no regrets, it's always good to see young love prosper.” The sad look in Willie’s eyes pulled at your heartstrings, you stood there wondering if he had any regrets.

The clearing of Carmy’s throat finally drew your attention from the wise older man in front of you. “Thank you Willie really, but we should be heading home.”

Willie nodded a pleasant smile on his lips, “Damn right! The two of you holdin up my business.” The older man shooed the two of you off a chuckle followed his gesture.

“It was nice meeting you Willie, thank you again for the beautiful bouquet.” You sent him one last wave before you and Carmy moved away from the booth.

“It’s a gorgeous bouquet Carmy,” you glanced over the flowers before your eyes locked with Carmy’s, a loving smile splitting your face.

Carmy smiled, unconsciously reaching out to move a stray piece of hair from your eyes, hurriedly dropping his hand and clearing his throat. “Let’s get them home and into some water yeah?” Carmy’s eyes darted around doing his best not to stare at you for too long.

You looked down trying to hide your smile, the word ‘home’ filled you with warmth. Your hand reached out to intertwine his with your own, avoiding Carmy’s eyes as they finally focused on you, “Lead the way.”

The gentle squeeze of your hand in Carmy’s made you smile, the two of you making your way back to his apartment. Neither of you mentioned holding hands as you journeyed home, just like neither of you said anything as you melted into his safe embrace on the subway ride.

The two of you entered the small apartment, your laughs filtering through the hallway and into the entranceway. A run-in with Carmy’s neighbor across the hall was responsible for the now-dying laughter between the two of you.

“Is she always like that?” You stopped allowing Carmy to help you out of your jacket before he hung it up. You turned to him, taking the bags out of his hand as you made your way to the kitchen. Setting them on the counter before searching for something to hold your flowers.

Carmy followed behind you after removing his own coat, hands falling to your waist as he moved around you to unload the few groceries he had gotten for tonight. “She uh, airdropped me a nude once, so right now was pretty tame I guess.”

Your headshot to Carmy’s everything in you holding back the laugh that was desperately trying to escape. “Poor girl. Did you send one back?” You nudged your elbow into his watching as the blush on his cheeks deepened.

He maneuvered around you trying to ignore your teasing, “God no, we uh went out for drinks once, it was cool.”

The crumbs he was giving you surprised you, “And nothing like came out of that?”

“I dunno was something supposed to?” Carmy made sure not to give you direct attention, mortified that he was even having this conversation with you in his kitchen.

“Well did you want it to?” You didn’t know why you had latched onto this topic of conversation so hard, it reminded you of the times Carmy would ramble to you about Claire. And if you were just spending the weekend with a friend wasn’t this the type of conversation you should be engaging in?

Carmy turned to you as you finally found a glass big enough to support the bouquet, he watched as you filled the glass with water before trimming the stems. “Not with her, no.”

You looked up to see Carmy finally looking at you with a serious expression painting his flushed face. You couldn’t help it as your eyes dropped to his lips, clocking the subtle peak of his tongue poking out as he wet his lips.

Carmy made his way towards you, Willie's words from earlier bouncing around in his head. He pulled the flower from your hand and placed it in the large glass he wasn’t even aware he had. He cleared his throat hoping he had enough confidence to get these words out.

“I’m gonna start on dinner, and you’re gonna go get ready,” his hand came up to hold the left side of your jaw, finger finding the spot behind your ear he always took special care to remember. “I want you to put on that pretty little dress you were gushing about on the way home.” Carmy stopped watching as you nodded your head showing that you were paying attention.

“Can you do that for me?” His eyes traced your face looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable.

Your lidded eyes lazily blinked up at him a quiet ‘yes’ escaped through your parted lips. A small smile rested on Carmy’s lips as he leaned in to plant a delicate kiss on your forehead, lips lingering for a moment too long.

He reluctantly removed himself from you waiting for you to scurry off. Surprised when you took a step closer to him and leaned in, a gentle press of your lips connecting to the corner of his. Carmy watched as you pulled away and smiled at him before taking your leave.

Carmy stood in his kitchen for a minute, heart racing as he realized what he had just done. The only place Carmy had ever been in control was in the kitchen, so maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to take control in that moment, well that and Willie’s lecture.

He was sure it would never happen again as he began preparing the ingredients for the lasagna he planned to make for the two of you.

You and Carmy had switched places a few minutes ago after he walked in on you wrapped in a towel and profusely apologized for almost a whole minute. You easily slipped into your dress while Carmy was in the shower.

As you walked into the living room you could smell the delicious aroma of the cuisine Carmy prepared for the two of you. You were glad to be out of Carmy’s presence for the time being, your brain doing its best to process the moment the two of you had shared in the kitchen.

The cold shower you took did nothing to calm down the feelings swirling around inside you. You had never seen Carmy so in control of anything in his life, the demanding tone he used with you earlier almost had you making a fool of yourself right there in his kitchen.

A constant beep coming from the oven drew your attention, you quickly made your way to the kitchen grabbing a towel to remove the hot dish from its place resting in the oven. You couldn’t help but marvel at the pretty lasagna in your hands. It was a bit weird to describe food as pretty, but the presentation was generally pleasing to the eyes.

You walked to the countertop to set the dish down, turning to search through the kitchen for plates and utensils. Having a slightly hard time as you had no idea where anything was located at.

“Baby?” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, not having heard him make his approach.

You turned in his direction, a light laugh leaving your lips. It was a bit comical, the two of you dressed nicely, feet bare in his New York apartment. You took in his appearance biting your lip as you spotted his chain that encouraged you to do sinful things. He was dressed in probably the only slacks he owned, the ankles cuffed since he wasn’t wearing shoes. The deep green crew neck hugging his body was similar in color to the dress you were wearing, the unexpected matching caused another laugh to leave your lips.

The box in his hand finally caught your attention, it appeared to be a present of some sort. You pointed at it with the random spoon you had picked up while searching for cutlery.

“What’s that?” You furrowed your brows as you watched Carmy revert to his usual shy self.

He held the gift out to you, “Go ahead, open it.” Your hand brushed his as you took the box from his hold feeling a bit giddy at the unsolicited gift.

Carmy held his breath as he watched you open a five-year-old gift in his kitchen. You looked beautiful and he wanted to tell you but couldn’t seem to force the words out too enthralled with the intimate atmosphere that had been surrounding the two of you since earlier in the kitchen.

Carmy was a fool for leaving you the morning after Christmas and knowing that he let Mikey down when it came to you haunted him. He was glad to have these days with you, it wasn’t healthy but the two of you were providing a distraction for each other.

“Carmy oh my goodness,” the gasp of your breath brought Carmy back to reality. His cheeks warmed at seeing you so happy. “How much did this even cost you, these things are like relics.” Your eyes flashed to the smile on your face seeming to brighten up the kitchen.

“It doesn’t matter, I bought this for Christmas and just…I never sent it.” He was prepared for you to scold him for his stupidity, tell him you didn’t care for the gift, and that you couldn’t play pretend with him anymore.

The press of your warm body against his surprised him, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist. Holding onto you so tightly scared that if he let you go then you would disappear and he’d realize this weekend was just a dream.

“I love it Carmy really, thank you.” Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as the two of you gazed into each other's eyes.

“Can I,” Carmy paused a laugh escaping his lips at the similarities between this moment and a past one you shared. “Can I kiss you?”

You wasted no time before you leaned forward pressing a sweet kiss into his lips lingering for a moment to translate the love you felt for him. Carmy’s hand moved up to your jaw, keeping you locked in place against him, his tongue slipping out to caress your bottom lip.

You slowly opened your mouth allowing him in, the softness of his tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth. The kiss was slow, sensual, all the pent-up emotions being shared between the two of you.

The rhythm Carmy set was easy for you to follow along with, you took the chance to suck on his tongue a bit, losing yourself in the feelings this one kiss was bringing forth.

You parted from Carmy reluctantly, a small smile raised to your lips as you watched him chase you for more. A soft moan escaped you as he began decorating kisses down your jaw and to your neck, tilting your head back to allow him better access, surprise painting your features as he raised you to sit on his counter.

Carmy continued to study you with his lips, tracing down your pulse point and across your collarbone. It would never be enough for him, he would never be able to satisfy his hunger for you no matter how much of your skin his lips could paint.

The soft whimpers snatched from your lips going straight to his groin, his hips unconsciously canting against your leg that was in perfect alignment.

“Touch me Carmy…please,” Carmy swore he could cum from the sound of your begging alone.

But he stopped his ministrations, the realization that he had no idea what he was doing hitting him like a ton of bricks.

You watched as Carmy pulled away from you chest rapidly puffing up and down as the confusion swept across your face. “Carmy?” Your voice trailed off you couldn’t help the hurt you were feeling, here you were sitting atop Carmy’s kitchen counter dress hiked up to your waist the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear in full view, the straps of your dress pulled down precariously low that the top of your areolas was peeking out.

You quickly adjusted the top of your dress before hopping off the counter and pulling down the hem. Eyes filling with tears as you were brought back to prom night, memories re-playing all the hurt that came after it.

Carmy’s head shot up from its place in his hands the tears in your waterline and the way you had shrunken into yourself making him feel like a complete fucking asshole.

“Shit no Baby…I-Fuck!” Carmy watched as you jolted a little at the shout of his voice, he was fucking this up more than it already was.

“Hey, hey,” he closed the distance between the two of you, raising his hands to your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Baby, I-I’m sorry it's just…I don’t,” Carmy took a deep breath trying to gain his bearings. “I’ve never done this stuff before.”

Carmy’s eyes followed the emotions crossing your face, a frown painting your face before your eyes widened and your lips parted in the shape of an ‘o’.

“Carmy…have you never been intimate with anyone before?” Carmy knew your question wasn’t teasing or malicious but he couldn’t help feeling embarrassed at having to admit this to you.

“I uh, you were my first kiss…and my second kiss just now,” Carmy hung his head in shame, blush rising from his neck to stain his cheeks.

“Oh my goodness I’m such an asshole,” Carmy looked up at you a chuckle escaping him at your declaration. Your hand reached out to rest against his cheek thumb caressing back and forth. “Carmy I thought you were rejecting me.” Now it was your turn to feel shameful, your first thoughts being selfish ones as opposed to waiting to hear Carmy’s explanation.

Carmy’s hand came up to grip yours on his cheek, head turning to place a soft kiss on your pulse point. “Let’s sit and eat, yeah?” Carmy waited for your response, smiling at you as you nodded. “I wanna spend as much time together as we can.”

You pulled him into a sweet kiss, his hands squeezing your waist at the feeling of being able to freely kiss you “I’d like that.” You pulled away the two of you sharing bright smiles as you moved to have the dinner Carmy had so lovingly planned out.

Neither of you pointed out the fact that things would be coming to an end for you two tomorrow, but you’d bask in this loving atmosphere for all the remaining time you two had together.

You could feel soft lips pressing into the space behind your left ear, your first instinct was worry. Confused by the warm body pressed into you from behind strong arms gripping your waist as though you would disappear at a moment's notice. The memories of the last day with Carmy led you to relax.

A quiet sniffle finally woke you up enough, your eyes opening to the dimly lit room. A familiar head of hair tucked snuggly into your neck, and slight huffs of breaths could be heard.

“Carmy?” The raspiness of your morning voice echoed around the room, you could hear the breathing quiet down a bit, concern spiking in you.

You began turning wanting to comfort the man you had been in love with for most of your life, it was a struggle as the arms around you tightened but you finally turned to your side Carmy burying his face in your t-shirt-clad chest.

“Carmy, honey,” the lack of response was beginning to worry you, you had shared your fair share of cries with Carmy throughout your friendship but considering the circumstances that brought you together this time around, you couldn’t help but freak out a bit. “Hey, hey look at me yeah?”

“I-I just need a minute please.” The crack of Carmy’s voice went straight to your heart. He maneuvered so the top of his body was laying on your chest and stomach, his lower body settling gently between your legs.

You leaned forward pressing a lingering kiss to his head before lying back down and slowly stroking your fingers through his hair, wanting to make him as comfortable in this moment as you could. You were content to hold him all day if that’s what he needed.

The two of you laid like that for a while, Carmy’s breathing and sniffling calming down after a few minutes. You watched as Carmy propped himself up on his elbows, pressing a small kiss into the fabric of your shirt over your stomach, a small smile rising to your lips as you watched him.

“Talk to me, Carm?” You watched as he looked up to you, pretty blue eyes swollen from the tears he’d been shedding.

Carmy moved up a little resting his cheek against your sternum arms wrapped tightly around you, “Uhh, Sug called, said Mikey left something for me.”

It was quiet as you let his words sink in, a shuddering sigh leaving you as your hands unconsciously began running back through Carmy’s hair.

You felt Carmy’s hand slip under the shirt of his you were borrowing, fingers gliding across the skin of your stomach lazily tracing circles. The small gesture helped to relax you a bit.

“Did she say anything else?” Your fingernails softly scratched into Carmy’s scalp, the two of you trying to touch each other as much as you possibly could.

Carmy’s chuckle drew your attention, “She uh, asked me to come home.”

Your nails stopped for a minute before you started up again, heart jumping a little in your chest at the idea of Carmy coming back to Chicago, “Are you…going to go home?” The hope in your voice borders on desperation.

Carmy was silent for a moment, hands moving to lift your shirt just underneath your breast before he placed his warm cheek back in its previous position. The news skin-on-skin contact sends chills through both of you.

“Everything with Mikey kinda made me think about us.” Carmy’s thumb came up, to caress against your rib, dangerously close to your breast. “It just kind of puts into perspective that the people you care about can be here one day…and gone the next.”

The avoidance of your original question was not lost on you, but Carmy opening up may have been better than whatever argument the initial qualm might impose.

“Baby I-,” you looked at Carmy as he adjusted his position one hand resting against your sternum, his chin plopping onto it. “I um.” He stopped, you followed his movements watching as his eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

“For a while, I’ve known that I feel something for you, but I-I don’t think I can give you what you want.” Your hand slipped from his hair to cup his cheek, hanging on to every word leaving his lips.

Carmy leaned into the palm of your hand, letting himself melt into your touch, cherishing the few moments he had left with you. “And I can’t promise any commitment after today.” The rapid beating of Carmy’s chest could be felt on your stomach, the crack in his voice raising a small smile to your lips.

You sat up in bed. Carmy looked up at you as you held his chin in your hand, thumb softly tracing his lips as you committed his features to memory. The tiny scars marring his face, the few beauty marks dotted around, connecting them would create a new constellation you swore you’d remember forever.

Carmy was honest with you, and that’s all you asked of him. Neither of you could promise each other a happy ending after you parted ways and while that hurt, it didn’t make sense to ruin the remaining time the two of you had left dwelling on the future.

“Carmen,” you waited for him to lock eyes with you, a sad smile spread across your features, tears you could no longer hold back coming forth. “I know.”

Carmy’s lips pressed into your thumb before he gently cupped your neck and reached up so your lips connected. This was only the third kiss the two of you shared, but the intangible love and intimacy that could be felt through the single press of your lips would never dwindle, not for as long as the two of you surrounded yourself with each other.

He raised to his knees both hands entrapping your face, all his passion being poured into this one kiss. Carmy was slightly above you now, the angle forcing you to raise your head to stay connected. His thumb began unconsciously caressing the ‘B’ behind your left ear, a small part of you that had stuck with him ever since he discovered it five years ago.

The kiss intensified as you slipped your tongue between his lips, hands gripping onto his hips as he towered above you in this position. Your tongue moved languidly inside his mouth, small noises escaping the both of you.

Carmy pulled the hair at the nape of your neck, the motion removing your lips from his. “Did you mean what you said?” His breath left him in a huff.

“What?” You were slightly out of breath yourself, confused at what the hell Carmy was on about.

“What you said about this,” his thumb swiped back and forth against the ‘B’ inked into your skin. “Would you take my last name?”

You bit your lip, eyes lidded as you searched Carmy’s face, hand moving to grip his soft chin between your forefinger and thumb raising onto your knees so the two of you were eye level.

“Would you like that Carmen? If I let you give me your last name?” A patronizing smile graced your lips, the air between you charged.

Carmy surged forward hungry for a taste of you, his hands gripped your hair to tug on it a strangled gasp leaving you. The strength with which Carmy took your lips into his forcing your back into the mattress beneath you two, his body hovering over yours.

Your hand left its place on his chin sliding down to his shoulders caressing the little skin his tank top allowed you to feel. Hands traveling across his chest, the feeling of his toned body under your palms making you needy. You finally made it to the hem of his shirt tugging it up to give you access to the warm skin of his torso.

Carmy parted from you, snatching the shirt over his head before diving back in. Lips leading him to his favorite feature of yours. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders pulling him flush against you, Carmy’s lips ravished your neck as he nipped from your jawline down to your pulse point, teeth sinking in a bit harder.

“Fuck Carmy.” The delicious feeling of Carmen's body against yours, his lips exploring you, hands gripping the skin of your revealed waist. All of it led to the thrust of your hips up into his, it was selfish but you needed him, not that you would force him but whatever he would give you would have to be enough.

Carmy’s sharp intake of breath drew your attention as his hips relentlessly ground into you, hand wandering up your shirt to cup your breast thumb accidentally tracing your nipple.

Your loud gasp alarmed him. He quickly parted from you saliva connected your lips together as you both took in each other’s disheveled appearances.

“Did I-did I do something wrong?” Sweet Carmy worried that he had ruined the moment.

You sat up rapidly shaking your head as you stared into his eyes, the both of you breathing heavily, “No, no it was great I promise.”

Carmy nodded gently tracing your jawline as he looked at you, “Baby…I want this moment with you.” The mumble made your heart race, this was a big deal it would change whatever this relationship between the two of you was.

“Carmy…we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” You searched his eyes hoping he didn’t feel pressured by the noises you were making.

“Have you…done this before?” Carmy forced himself to keep looking at you regardless of the blush he could feel painting his cheeks.

The small nod you gave relieved him a bit, “Does that bother you?” You didn’t think Camry would mind but you knew the male species could be unpredictable.

“God no, I just don’t wanna disappoint you.” He finally looked away from you embarrassed to have admitted something so personal.

“You won’t.” You sent him a small smile before guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt helping him to pull it over your head. Watching his beautiful face take in everything you had to offer him.

His throat bobbed as he took in a large gulp, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, proving you’d have to take the reins on this one, not that you minded. The thought of telling Carmy how to pleasure you warmed you up even more.

Your finger reached out to lift Carmy’s chin, directing his eyes to yours, “What do you want to do to me, Carmen?”

You watched as he blinked eyes tracing your figure, “I just wanna appreciate you, Baby.” The words left his lips in a whisper.

You were taken aback never having heard that before while being intimate. His hands slowly settled on your waist, the safest option “How should I…do that.”

You smiled moving one of his hands to cup your breast, shuddering at the skin-to-skin contact, “We can start with kissing, then I want you to do whatever feels right okay?”

Carmy nodded, giving your breast a slight squeeze a whimper drawing out of you, taking account of your reaction he gently began rubbing his thumb across your pebbled nipple watching your body writhe at the small action.

He leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss into your forehead, lips moving to your left cheek then your right. A small kiss pressed into each of your closed eyelids and the tip of your nose. Each corner of your lips got its turn before his lips found the space between your nose and upper lip. One more kiss pressed into your chin before finally ending with a sweet kiss to your lips, cherishing every inch of your face he had kissed.

Carmy made his way to your jawline, starting at the right side and tracing to your left, nipping every so often as he continued his journey. Lips slowly tracing from your jawline to your neck, he wasn’t sure what it was but seeing your neck on display for him made him feral, his hips grinding into your as he decorated your neck in love bites.

“Lay down f’me.” You eagerly listened watching as Carmy planted another soft kiss into your lips before following the map of your collarbones. Lips pressing into your upper chest as both hands came up to softly knead your breast.

You could feel Carmy’s hard-on pressing against you, as much as you were enjoying this, all you wanted in the world was to finally please Carmy. You slipped your hand between your bodies sliding into the waistband of his boxers, hand gripping him as a strangled moan parted his lips. The soft caress of your hand against him caused his head to spin, this felt different from the times he would stroke himself thinking about you.

“Does this feel good, Carmy?” Your voice was a little deeper, more sensual as you questioned him. “Do you wish it was me making you cum on those lonely nights, hmm?

“Fuck…yes.” The whine of his voice went straight to your core, spurring you on more.

Your strokes became a little firmer, applying more pressure to provide him more pleasure. His length twitched against your palm the more you rubbed. Carmy had lost all sense of his own ministrations grinding into your hand while still on top of you, he could feel himself close to ecstasy the feel of your warm body underneath him making him lose all control.

“Ba-Baby stop.” You froze immediately forcing your hormones under wrap, Carmy’s comfortability your priority.

“Are you okay Carm?” The worry in your voice was obvious as you removed your hand from its grip on him.

“Ye-yeah, I just want to please you right now.” Carmy’s hand moved to grip your rib cage thumb running back and forth against your under boob, “Can I continue showing my appreciation.” The slight desperation in his voice caused you to rapidly nod your head.

Carmy gave you a small shy smile, moving to kiss the spot he had been tracing during this time. His lips painted across your whole torso, paying extra attention to your stomach, ideas he wasn’t ready to give merit to racing through his mind as he did so.

Finally, he paused at your hips, the solid cotton panties you wore obscured his path, nose caressing the front of your panties as he took in a deep breath allowing your aroma to invade his senses. “Are you going to take off my panties, Carmy?” The condescending tone in your voice went straight to his throbbing cock.

He nodded, wasting no time in peeling the fabric from its home around your hips, ready to replace it with his bare hands. Carmy raised to his haunches, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of your naked body sprawled so prettily across his bed. All of you on show just for him.

Carmy returned to his previous task lips pressing wet delicate kisses into each of your hips bones, a lingering one placed at the base of your pelvis before turning his attention to your thighs. Lips trailing down your leg special attention paid to the crook of your knees and ankles.

Carmy’s eyes found yours as he placed the last kiss on your right ankle, both of your pupils blown from the sequence of events that had just taken place.

You beckoned Carmy forward urging him to find you once again. As he drew closer you grabbed one of his hands placing it on your right breast before moving it down so it caressed the rest of your torso, and down your pelvis finally stopping before the place you needed his touch most.

This was your way of giving him an out, the two of you could stop right here if he wanted to, the slight nod of his head told you otherwise.

Your grip on his hand changed as you grabbed his forefinger and middle finger, your free hand parting your lower lips as you traced his fingers through your slick, a filthy moan escaping into the bedroom as Carmy’s calloused fingers finally stroked you.

“Do you feel that Carmy?” He nodded his head, eyes not leaving yours for a minute. “It's all for you, you made me feel this good.”

You moved his fingers lower watching his face as you glided his two fingers into you, biting your lower lip at the hunger in you that was finally being tended to.

Carmy’s mouth fell open as he watched the ecstasy wash over your face, lost in the feeling of touching you in the most intimate way he had ever touched anyone before. His head dropped, eyes watching as you slowly swallowed his fingers, in and out the movement making him achingly hard.

Carmy’s lips dropped to your ear a shy whisper caressing your ear, “I want to be inside you.” The vulnerability in Carmy’s voice caused you to bite your lip, satisfied that he was finally speaking up about what he wanted.

“You are.” You teased him, clenching around his digits as his eyes drank you in.

You let out a whine as he removed his fingers from your grip, hand pressing your hip into the bed as he stared you down. “Please…I want this…with you.” The words unsaid weighing heavily between you two.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” You watched as he slipped out of his boxers, stroking himself as you watched and waited for your instructions. You motioned for him to lay atop you more noses brushing as he got into position, “I’ll guide you, but I need you to go slow okay, it’ll be a tight fit.”

Carmy nodded his head, neither of you daring to ask about any contraception too lost in the thoughts of finally connecting in ways the two of you had only dreamed of.

You would come to regret the consequences of this decision later.

A smile split your lips before you surged up to capture Carmy’s lips, needing to distract yourself.

You guided him to your entrance only allowing the tip to go in to not overwhelm Carmy. Your mouth fell open in the shape of an ‘o’ as Carmy eagerly thrust into you, your hand raised to his shoulder to stop his movements.

“Carm, slowly, please.” His eyes met yours taking in the slight pain that his intrusion had caused, he nodded hand raising to cup your cheek.

“You look so beautiful like this.” A tender moment was shared between the two of you as you urged Carmy to continue his journey, shuddered moans escaping the both of you as he reached the hilt.

The feeling of finally being full with Carmy made you emotional, both of you just taking a moment to gaze at each other. Appreciating the finality of this all, Carmy leaned down to kiss a tear running down your cheek that escaped, his own eyes welling up, neither of you could find the right words to cement how much this moment meant to the two of you.

Carmy pulsed inside you the movement caused you to clench around him, “You did so good for me Carmy.” The praise went straight to his cock, eyes rolling back at how good a few words made him feel.

“Can you move for me, Carm, it’ll make us both feel good.” The soft thrust of his hips was enough for you.

He continued the slow motion of his hips, eyes connected with yours as the ghost of those three words he struggled to say filtered between the two of you. Your hand raised to wipe the single tear sliding down his cheek.

Nothing in the world could take this moment from the two of you. If Aphrodite could tell the story of your love she would describe it as a tangible heartbreaking thing always growing, and most times fleeting. Something both you and Carmy could touch, feel, and breathe. The love filtering between the two of you was clear as day to anyone who had a heart.

The warm muscular hand pressed into the flesh of your hip bone driving you crazy. The fingers pressed into you harder and harder with each accompanying thrust. One hand pressed into the pillow by your head keeping the body atop of you from crushing you under its weight. You appreciated the cautionary position, but you had longed for this connection for what felt like ages and you would gladly welcome the weight of the perspiring chest burying you further into the mattress.

A golden gleam caught your eye taking you away from how the tattooed knuckles flexed against your hip every few seconds. You looked to see his golden chain dangling back and forth above your face, taunting you. The sway of the metal matched the rocking motion of his hips, the synchronicity of the two things driving you absolutely wild. Eyes concentrated on the gold chain it was almost like a switch was flipped in you and the catalyst was that fucking gold chain.

Your eyes moved to his face, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. You parted your lips his intense gaze causing you to clench down on him unconsciously, his eyes rolling back as his hand left its spot on your hip traveling up your torso thumb softly brushing over your nipple as it found its destination cupping your cheek with such intensity you were sure the shape of his thumb would be imprinted onto your jaw.

His eyes found yours once more, his thumb moving a few inches to softly caress your bottom lip. Your mouth opened on instinct to leisurely suck on his digit a hoarse ‘Fuck’ leaving the warm body that was making you feel so good. You released his thumb, feeling it tug at your bottom lip as his hand found its way back to your cheek.

You watched him above you, the ecstasy in his eyes warming your skin, you’d do anything to be able to please him if he always looked at you in that way. The flash of gold from his chain caught your attention again, the angle of his thrust causing you to gasp, a softly whispered moan of “Carmy,” leaving your lips. Carmy’s chain hovered above your open mouth begging to be taken between your teeth, you appeased your desires, your tongue latching onto the chain as you brought it to settle between your teeth. Carmy’s hips fucking into you at a slightly faster pace, your leg wrapping around his waist the heel of your foot pressing into his back to bring the two of you impossibly closer.

“Fuck-Baby, shit!” Watching Carmy struggle for words had never been as sexy as it was at that moment. Knowing that you were the cause of his incoherent muttering.

“Please, Carmy,” another gasp ripped through you, your teeth losing hold of Carmy’s signature gold chain. “Mmm yes, Carmen. Just like that.” You settled for whispering in his ear, the new position you had chosen had his head resting against your collarbone, his ear directly next to your mouth. You could feel Carmy’s hand moving from your cheek to clench your jaw between his thumb and remaining fingers. His hand moved your head to reveal your neck the feeling of soft wet kisses making a path to your ear, Carmy’s thrust slowing slightly.

You could feel his breath against your cheek, the soft whine he let out as your cunt clenched around him. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “Say that again.” His rough voice traveled through you, the thumping of your clit beating faster and faster.

“Just like that.” You moaned wanting to please him as much as he wanted to please you.

His fingers dug into your chin, the roughness of his touch causing a high-pitched moan to leave your lips. “Sa-say my name?” The request made your head spin.

“Carm-,” Carmy’s hand returned to its earlier position holding himself above you causing your leg to drop back to the bed.

“N-no,” the strain in his voice was evident as he tilted your head down to stare directly into your eyes. “M-my name sa-say it. Please.”

You bit your lip his whiny plea going straight to your clit. Your hand reachesdup to match his fingers gripping his chin firmly. Your blown pupils searching his wide doe eyes. It was hard to distinguish where the blue began and the black ended. Your faces were inches apart, you could tell from his breathing that your grip on his chin stirred something inside him. The soft rocking of his hips into yours caused your bottom lips to caress each other in the rhythm he had set.

“Carmen.” The syllables of his name left your mouth in a wanton moan, there was a moment where the thrusting of Carmy’s hips came to a slow stop before he surged forward and messily captured your lips in a kiss full of tongues and moans. Carmy’s hips began rutting into yours, the speed and intensity sending you both into a spiral. Your hand lost its grip on his chin to slither between your bodies matching Carmy’s pace and applying it to your clit.

The grip on your chin was gone as Carmy’s hand followed the path yours had previously taken sending a soft squeeze to your breast. “Te-teach me how.” God you could’ve cum from that sentence alone. You began rapidly nodding your head before placing your hand atop his own guiding his index and middle finger into generously massaging your clit.

“Car-Carmen, don’t stop please don’t stop.” Your voice leaves you in a sharp cry.

“Yeah? Is this good?” Your unabashed moan did more to answer Carmy’s question than any words could.

“Carmeee, I’m gonna come, please.” The banging of the headboard against the wall an indication of just how fast Carmy was thrusting into you.

“Whe-where should I-,” You could hear the slight panic in Carmy’s voice, assuming he was on the cusps of an orgasm as well.

“In me Carmy jus- all of it.” His fingers pressed into your clit going at a pace your brain couldn’t keep up with.

The speed of Carmy’s breathing increased. His head finding its way back into the crook of your neck, lips scattering kisses across your neck, “I’ll give it to you all. M’ gonna give you everything.” The sound of Carmen’s voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he had intended anyone else’s ears to hear it.

Whatever Carmen’s intentions his words were the last thing you needed to hear before bliss took over your senses. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, the intensity causing loud moans to escape your lips, clenching Carmy’s cock so hard you were sure it must’ve been painful.

Riding the high of your orgasm, Carmen’s deep drawn-out groan vibrated into your neck as you felt him give two final rapid thrusts before the dam he had been holding back finally burst inside you. You felt his thrust slow down as he began peppering kisses across your face, “Thank you, thank you.” His voice trailed off into a whisper before his full body weight settled into you.

Now that the bed was no longer threatening to put a hole through his wall, the only sound filling the bedroom was the panting breaths you and Carmy were letting out.

Carmy looked up at you, the wetness on his cheeks matching yours. His forehead leaned against yours the vulnerability the two of you had for each other on full show. Breaths of love were shared between you as your lips gently touched. You knew the words you wanted to say at this moment, felt them so deep in your soul that your tears wouldn’t cease their downpour.

But you also knew how flighty the beautiful man in front of you was, it hurt but you would once again have to swallow your love for this man to ensure he remained in your life.

You laughed as Carmy hovered atop of you the Polaroid he gifted you in his hands the device raised to his eye. Your arm was thrown over your face the fact that the two of you were in this position at all still mind blowing . Carmy nudged your arm, he had been snapping photos of you for a while now, both of you ignoring the fact that he should have been getting ready for work instead of laying with your naked body barely covered under him.

“Show me that smile, pretty girl,” you slowly moved your arm, the smile splitting your face hard to control. “You seem to like my chain so much, I want to remember what you look like in it.” Carmy could be devilish when he wanted to, the way he would sometimes gain confidence and say what was on his mind, throwing you for a loop.

Your eyes left the camera in his hand as you stared at his face, so enchanted with who Carmy was as a person. Only being jolted out of your trance as the Polaroid fluttered out of the camera and landed on the center of your chest.

Carmy moved the camera smiling down at you before picking up the photo and examining it, the corner of his lips ticking up in a half smile. He placed the picture on the other pillow where all the other Polaroids were sprawled out. You watched as he set the camera down next to your head cupping your jaw before leaning down and pressing a firm kiss into your forehead a mumbled ‘Perfect’ escaped his lips.

“Will you take a picture with me Carmy,” your words came out shyly hoping he would agree. You felt his nose nuzzle into your neck planting a small kiss on your tattoo before moving to lay next to you in the bed.

You reached over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek before grabbing the camera from its spot by your head. You raised it watching as the soft smile graced Carmy’s face, your eyes not wanting to leave the perfect view of his side profile that you had fallen in love with, finger accidentally slipping, the sound of the camera shutter filled the space between you too.

Carmy pulled the photo out waiting for it to develop as he looked in your direction. A wide grin took over his face just by looking at you, your hand began lowering the camera before his hand shot out and raised your hand, and the camera back up quickly pressing your finger into the button to capture this moment in time.

You let him grab the camera from your hands before he placed it on the nightstand, once again holding your face in place as the two of you shared your softest kiss yet.

— — — —

You watched as Carmy maneuvered around his room slipping into a clean pair of chef whites, he was late and you could tell he was panicking on the inside but didn’t want to worry you. The two of you had wasted away in the shower washing each other's bodies and holding each other under the hot spray of water. Neither of you wanted to leave the confines of the shower, knowing your time together was finally expiring.

You sat on the bed with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin resting atop them, a fresh pair of panties, and his deep green crew neck from last night your only form of clothing. The tension between the two of you had been broken the moment Carmy realized just how behind schedule he was, shoving reality down your throat as the game of pretending the two of you had been playing was finally snuffed out.

Carmy’s eyes landed on you in his rush clocking the glaze of your eyes, head not rationalizing why you might be upset at the moment. Finally gathering all his necessities he rushed over to you kneeling in front of you pressing one last kiss onto your forehead.

“I’ll be home soon, yeah.” You closed your eyes, the words breaking your heart into pieces.

“Yeah, be safe okay?” Carmy smiled, capturing your lips in his for the last time tonight hand cupping the back of your head to hold you in place.

The two of you separated small side smiles mirroring each other, both of you knew that Carmy would return home to an empty apartment tonight, but neither of you would voice that truth.

You followed him to the front door needing to see him off before your return to Chicago. He opened the door lingering between the door and the hallway hand gripping yours before pressing a soft kiss into the pulse point at your wrist.

You shared small smiles as Carmy made his way to leave, sending you one last wave before he disappeared down the hallway.

Your closed the door, forehead pressing into it as you stood there trying to gain your bearings, doing your best to control your tears as you knew this moment was inevitable.

A soft “I love you, Carmen.” Breathed into the empty apartment soft enough for it to feel like a ghost had whispered those words and not you.

But not quiet enough that the man who returned on the other side of the door missed the declaration.

Heart thudding in his chest. His hand ready to turn the keys in the doorknob dropped to his side. His feet shuffled backward as he took one last glance at the door before reverting to his journey to work.

He could go one day without his signature chain that he had so lovingly placed around your delicate neck.

a/n: idk what to say really…enjoy : ) [actually no this is my first smut so please let’s learn from carmy’s mistakes and don’t come for me 😉] i’m like the only person on the planet who thinks i’m funny that’s how laughable it is 😭

taglist: @wheredidmycrowngo @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @jam1esl0v4 @globetrotter28 @dankfarrick29 @r0s3mm @flowersgirl02 @beingalive1 @fairytale07 @saturnheart @recklessgiraffelife @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder @gcidrvsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

please message me if you’d like to be removed from the tag list

#the pump and dump warning was so real #like girly you’re so powerful make these men beg #right like as much as we shit on carmy #baby is a grown woman ALLOWING carmy’s behavior to continue #like carmy def needs to take responsibility #but like obviously he thinks his behavior is okay because #can’t lie…baby kind of enables him 😅#they are literally a couple just work your shit out!#carmy really said delulu is better than reality #he’s such a hypocrite like i can’t commit to you but ill be home by 5 #virgin!carmy is my weakness #wowza guess i had a lot to say as well #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] interlude two reblogs #i love these analyses so much!

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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months ago

Text

the art of breaking: part two

the art of breaking, part two: theory of decay

very dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

NOTE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. this fic contains themes of abuse and extremely dark content.

words: 10k

summary: joel knows just how to make you his forever. a sequel to "the art of breaking"

warnings (new warnings in red) and story under the cut; reader discretion is advised.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, very dark!Joel, BAD bdsm etiquette, not SSC/RACK compliant, sadist!Joel x masochist!reader, coercion, corruption, manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, glory hole, reader gives tommy a blowjob (joel and tommy do not touch), body modification, permanent marking, captivity, sadism, masochism, pain play, extreme punishment, whipping, impact play in general, mentions of vomit (no description), oral, vaginal, reader x other men, degradation, humiliation, Joel sees reader as property, inadequate aftercare, blink and you miss it piss "play," straight up abuse this time guys, overstimulation, forced eating, needles, voyeurism, objectification, human furniture/ashtray, cigarettes, consumption of non-food items, nipple/clit pumps, this one might be worse than the first idk sorry

Again, I cannot say this enough. This is a dark fantasy and should not be taken as representative of a good d/s relationship—it’s abuse masquerading. Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I’m condoning it.

Please read responsibly.

i. dessication

When he goes to work, he leaves you free to roam the house and do your chores. For shorter trips out, he tends to put you in your cage. There’s no real reason, but it keeps you in a good place. You’re always softer, quieter when he gets back and lets you out.

He couldn’t do it all the time, of course. There are things needing to be done. Plus, every day, he gets to come home to you knelt, waiting by the door with dinner kept warm. He could afford a housekeeper, but then you’d have nothing to keep your mind and body occupied when he’s away.

Of course, sometimes he leaves you chained up in the basement. He can’t always be nice, after all. And the thing he loves to come home to most, second only to you kneeling at the door, is your exhausted body still tied where he left it, bearing the marks of his latest pleasure.

Sometimes, he just leaves you in stocks to contemplate all the raw kisses from his favorite whip. Sometimes, he has you pinned to the table with a vibrator strapped to your clit for the day. On the lowest setting—he’s not a monster.

Well. It starts on the lowest setting. He can do whatever he wants with it through a handy app. It was the only way Tommy could convince him to upgrade to a smartphone.

But today, you’re just set about neatening up. Neither you nor Joel are messy— though he does have a tendency to empty his pockets wherever he’s standing—and it’s not a huge house. You finish up early and have time to read while supper’s in the oven.

You’re already kneeling when you hear the key in the door, eyes down, hands behind your back, but you have to tense up not to flinch when you hear a second pair of boots.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” drawls a voice you don’t know.

The only reason you don’t panic is because Joel’s boots enter your field of vision. You’re intimately acquainted with them—literally—and despite the fresh layer of dirt, you’d know them anywhere.

“Ooh, damn, she’s good,” says the voice.

Joel chuckles and reaches down to stroke your cheek. “Told ya.”

You melt a little against his hand, letting the pride in his voice warm you.

He rubs his thumb over your cheek and lets you press a little kiss to the digit before stepping back to take his shoes off and dump the handful of change and crumpled receipts on the foyer table. “C’mon,” he says, snapping his fingers so you know he means you, too.

You resist the urge to look at the stranger, but you don’t like the way he lingers to follow you instead of following Joel. You can feel his eyes on your exposed flesh, the dress just short enough to show off your cunt when you crawl.

No one has ever come into the house before. At least not when you’re out and about. You don’t know if Joel’s had company while you’ve been in the basement or something; you’ve never even thought about it. All you know is that it’s been a long time since you’ve seen another person.

It’s terrifying.

You go to kneel between Joel’s feet, but he stops you. “Turn around,” he says, guiding you with firm hands to face forward.

He laughs when he sees that you’re still staring very carefully at the carpet. “Y’can look at him; he ain’t gonna bite.”

The other man, who has settled in the armchair facing the couch, laughs too. “I might,” he says.

“No, you won’t.” Joel’s voice goes hard for a moment, and you don’t need to see to know he’s glaring.

It makes you feel better. So what if someone’s looking at you? Joel’s still protecting you.

He lifts your chin up so you have to look at the other man. He’s broad, though not as much as Joel, with dark curls and dark eyes that make you feel like he wants to cut you open and see how you tick.

“This is my little brother, Tommy,” Joel says. “Go tell him hello.”

“Hello,” you say quietly.

“C’mon, now, go give him a proper greeting,” Joel nudges you with his foot. You crawl over to Tommy and kneel between his legs. Your gaze darts from him to Joel, teeth worrying at your lip.

“Don’t embarrass me, girl,” Joel warns.

Tommy lifts your chin with his hand. “He wants you to suck me off. Go ahead.”

It’s nice, but it’s not his permission you need. You risk one more glance at Joel.

“You heard him. You got two seconds, sweetheart, before you’re gonna regret it,” he growls.

“You goin’ soft? You usually have ‘em trained better by now,” Tommy teases, but his words have Joel seeing red.

You sit back. “What?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, did you think you were special?” Tommy says with a nasty smirk. He pats your face. “Poor thing.”

You look at Joel, tears welling up.

“What, you think I had a house full of equipment that’s never been used? Y’should be grateful. All my toys before you had to suffer some trial and error. I got it perfected now, and you’re wasting it, being a fuckin’ disobedient bitch.”

You close your eyes tight and choke back a sob. He’s never, ever spoken to you like that before. When you turn back to Tommy, you have your mouth open wide and waiting.

He leans back. “Well? You gonna make me do all the work?”

“Can I use my hands, please?” you say, eyes darting from Tommy to Joel.

“Great, now you got her all nervous,” Tommy bitches, and Joel rolls his eyes.

“Go ahead,” Joel tells you gruffly. You’ve been so good. So obedient. Maybe he shoulda warned you that he wanted to show you off. No, he thinks, it’s not his fault. He didn’t owe you a warning. You should just accept it and obey.

You’re shaking when you tug open the button of Tommy’s jeans, fumbling with the zipper. Apparently, it takes long enough that he grunts and knocks your hand away, pulling his cock out.

It feels like a trap. Joel has not explicitly ordered you to do this. But he doesn’t usually try to trick you.

“For Christ’s sake,” Tommy snaps, and yanks you forward. You get with the program quickly, wrapping your lips around him and trying to do your best.

He’s smaller than Joel, but it’s a decent cock. Not that it matters to you. Despite not having to gag on him, you can’t breathe anyway, too preoccupied. Why is Joel doing this? Is he going to punish you for it later?

And the worst thing, the thing that keeps bouncing around your brain as you try to get Tommy off: What happened to the other girls? Did he get tired of them and kick them out?

Was he not going to keep you?

You don’t notice you’re crying, but Tommy clearly enjoys it. He moans and holds you down as he cums down your throat. You aren’t ready, though, and sputter a little, coughing and leaking his cum down your chest.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel snaps. He gets up off the couch and yanks you away from his brother by the hair. “What the hell's the matter with you today?”

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Shut up,” he says, and drags you out to the place you visit in most of your nightmares, despite only having been there once in reality.

The Pit.

ii. consumption

When he comes to get you in the morning, you’re wrecked. Deflated, no more tears left to pour down your cheeks. For now, at least.

The sun is against his back when he opens the gate, reaching down for you with one strong arm. Bathed in the golden light, he is every inch your savior, and when you’ve climbed out on shaky legs, you prostrate yourself at his feet the way he likes.

He’s still mad, though, so he steps one filthy boot on your head and grinds your face into the mud. He pisses on it for good measure, the hot stream dripping down your hair and face onto the soil.

He’s got a switch in one hand. With you effectively pinned in place, he wastes no time in swinging it down on your ass.

You scream and sob as he beats you. When he finally stops, when he’s drawn every bit of his anger in welts against your skin, he lifts his boot from your head and squats down.

“Why d’you have to make me do this?” He’s solemn, sorrowful.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say, focusing on controlling the hysterical sobs wrenching from your chest.

You don’t know what will follow, so you remain still, not daring to move without an order.

“I should drop you off at a fuckin’ whorehouse,” he mutters. He pulls you up by your hair, and you scramble to your knees. “You can learn to suck who you’re told to suck.”

“Please, sir, please don’t, please—” It’s too much. You stumble, sobs wracking your body hard enough that you can’t move. You collapse in the grass with his hand still holding your head up.

He lets go, letting you fall.

You crawl to his boots and kiss them, mud be damned. It wasn’t like you weren’t covered in it anyway. “Please, sir, I’m so sorry, please don’t—” you say between sobs.

“Please don’t what? You think you’re in any position to be askin’ for anything?”

“Don’t get rid of me, please; I promise I’ll be better; I can be good.”

“I’ll think about it, if you can fuckin’ earn it.”

“Please, please let me try to earn it.”

He squats down and helps pull you to your knees in front of him, cupping your filthy face in both hands. “I don’t wanna send you away. You know I love ya. But if you can’t be good, then what’s the point, baby?”

Your sobs are subsiding out of the pure elation that comes from his gentle touch. “I’ll do anything,” you whisper.

“I know ya will. You don’t really have a choice.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m gonna get you fed and taken care of. But you’re about to have one of the worst days of your fuckin’ life.”

You choke on a sob and sway a little. The fear and the hunger are like a fog over your brain.

“Hey. Listen t’me.” He holds your hands in one of his. “You’re gonna learn, and it’s gonna be real hard for ya. But at the end of it all— if you take it all like a good girl—you’ll be forgiven. Got it?”

You look up through tear-sodden lashes, lip quivering, and nod your head.

There’s no part of you anymore that registers an issue. No warning bells, no red flags, no hair raising.

You follow him to the bottom of the patio steps, where he nudges you to kneel back down, folding over so your face rests against the soil. You wait while he goes inside, unsure of how much time has passed until he comes back out with a plate of eggs, scrambled with cheese and little bits of sausage.

That raises some alarms. Not to the way he treats you, but more of a signal for what to expect. It’s protein-heavy, which isn’t necessarily unusual, but it smells delicious. And there’s no way you’re getting to eat that after behaving so badly.

You’re half right. He squats down next to you and scoops up a bite with the fork. You don’t take the bait; you know that’s not for you.

He moans exaggeratedly when he chews, grinning all the while. And then he scrapes the rest off the plate into the dirt in front of your face.

“Ah, ah. Not yet,” he says, and you close your eyes at the sound of his zipper being yanked down.

“You get wet from that beating earlier?” he asks.

You nod, even though he’s already reaching down between your legs and shoving his fingers in your cunt. He brings back his shiny hand and strokes his cock.

“Look at me, baby,” he says, shifting onto his knees so when you open your eyes, you’re faced with his fist pumping away at the red, angry head. “Coulda been you. Shoulda been, but bad girls don’t get what they want.”

You whimper. It really does hurt your feelings, but you know you have nothing to say for yourself.

“Open. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and get some fresh.”

You obey immediately, squeezing your eyes back shut as soon as he starts to cum. A little bit lands in your mouth, which you hold open.

“You can swallow that. But don’t eat yet.”

He walks away, puttering around on the patio. You try to work up the nerve for his command, stomach churning. Maybe it’ll still taste fine. Maybe cold semen and dirt won’t ruin it that much. Maybe.

If you hadn’t earlier, you believed him now about it being the worst day of your life. He certainly wasn’t starting out small. Sure, you’d eaten off the floor before, but inside the house. The house you clean, so you know how sanitary it is.

But thinking about doing this makes you want to cry. And when he tells you to get started, you do cry. Just a little.

“You got about six minutes,” he says, checking his phone for the time instead of the eternally broken watch on his wrist, “and there better not be a single crumb left. Get your ass up here as soon as you’re done.”

You’re not sure how long it takes you, but it must be nearly the whole six minutes, because by the time you’re knelt at his feet on the patio, he says, “Cuttin’ it damn close, sweetheart.”

He’s playing fucking Candy Crush, legs kicked out on the little wooden table in front of him. He’s got you knelt at his side, and after a few minutes, he digs into his breast pocket and hands you a smushed carton of cigarettes.

You draw one carefully out of the pack and extend it to him, letting go once he’s pinched it between his lips and pulling out the lighter. Carefully, you ignite the tip for him and tuck it back away. You go to give the carton back, but he shakes his head.

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth to blow smoke. “Hang onto that for me. And this,” and he hands you his coffee cup.

It’s not the first time he’s used you as a table. He tried using you as a footrest but found it less satisfying. You try to sit and work through your nerves, try to ignore the terror that he might not keep you if you can’t endure the day.

It’s a good thing that he drained you of any concept of dignity long ago, cut you open, and let it ooze away like pus from an infection.

“Open,” he says absently, not bothering to look away from his game.

Your eyes and mouth snap open, and he taps the cigarette against your lip, letting the ash fall onto your tongue. You jerk back a little but correct it immediately.

He quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll give ya a pass this time. But keep your mouth open, tongue out, and don’t fucking swallow.”

He’s clearly happy to spend the afternoon like this. He goes through a second cigarette and still doesn’t let you swallow or spit. Your knees ache from the planks of the deck.

He gets up and goes inside for a few minutes, taking his empty coffee cup with him. You don’t dare drop your position, though.

When he comes back out, he hands you a bottle of beer, condensation already dripping. He resettles to watch the game on his phone.

Anything resembling hope is trickling out. He hates watching things on the little screen, peering at it through his glasses. But he never smokes inside the house, so he’s resigned himself to this for the sake of your punishment.

It makes you feel less than the ash on your tongue.

By the time it’s over, your mouth has long gone dry, itching with the ash of four cigarettes, when he stands up and stretches. He leans down and holds your chin before spitting in your mouth.

“There ya go. Swallow.”

And you do. When you cough a little as the ashes cling to your dry throat, he pries your mouth back open and spits again.

It helps a little.

iii. dismemberment

You’d only been in the Pit once before. The first time was arguably your worst offense, which was good, Joel thought, that you still hadn’t topped that misbehavior.

But as glad as you are that it hasn’t happened a lot, it means you don’t really know what to expect. When he brings you into the ensuite, you know this routine enough that you kneel on the shower floor, barely flinching when he turns only the cold tap, and the faucet sputters to life.

He never gets in until you’re shivering, so while he gathers fresh clothes and towels, you scrub the mud from your body. When he checks and finds you satisfactory, he turns the knobs until the water runs warm.

Your shivers don’t subside for a few more minutes, though. Not until you’re practically done cleaning him with the spongey loofah. Hot tears burn in the corners of your eyes, though only a few slip loose.

When he turns around and takes it from you, you thank him for letting you wash him.

He gives you a smile, hand cupping your cheek.

“Of course, baby. Don’t worry. I’m going to help you remember how to be my good girl.”

But first, before he can follow up on the threat, he washes the mud and piss from your hair with gentle hands, massaging your scalp. You hold still, head tipped back, and let the tears come harder.

He notices but doesn’t comment. It’s normal now, when he takes care of you after a hard punishment. Or, in this case, in the middle of one.

You go to speak, to pour out your regrets and devotion, but he shushes you.

“I want you quiet ‘till I say otherwise,” he says. “Nothin’ outta you unless it’s an emergency. Got it?”

You nod, and he helps you to your feet, drying you with a soft towel and taking care around the raised welts on your ass. There will be some nasty bruises tomorrow, but when isn’t there? Your tits have mottled spots of yellow fading, and the shape of Joel’s hand around your throat basically never leaves.

He gives your raw, burning skin a sharp smack, sending you off to put on the dress he’s laid out for you.

He tells you nothing, just leads you to the truck. The drive is quiet, apart from the crooning voice on the radio. It’s a bit of a drive, and you park in a broken-up lot surrounded by rusty chainlink fence. He grabs your hand and takes you across the street to a dilapidated building. A cheap banner is tacked above one of the doors.

Joel hands a bill to a man, who opens the door just enough for you to squeeze in. It doesn’t take long to figure out where you are.

“Been a while since I brought you someplace nice, baby. Hope you like it, ‘cause we’re gonna be here most of the night.”

That’s the understatement of your life. He hasn’t taken you out of the house in over a year. You’re not sure you remember how to exist away from home, clinging to his arm as he leads you through the club.

You can’t decide what will be worse, but you don’t have to wonder for long when he drags you around to an empty stall. He’s not there to use a hole. You’re there to be one.

He clips your collar to the wall with just enough slack that you could pull back to breathe if the person on the other side doesn’t let you.

He takes the ring gag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of you. “You need this, or are ya gonna be good?”

“I’ll be good,” you say immediately, a phantom ache in the hinge of your jaw.

“You sure? ‘Cause if you have to ask later or I have to make that decision myself, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper.

“Good.” He pats the side of your face, two sharp smacks in lieu of a caress. There will be no softness for you tonight.

He waits to talk to you until your mouth is full. You look miserable, but you don’t hesitate. It’s not to the standard he’d usually require, but you’re both aware of the hours ahead, so he lets you pace yourself.

He crouches down near you. “You like that? Some random dirty prick in your throat?”

You, of course, can’t answer, but your eyes close against the hurt.

“It’s fucking disgusting. You think I want to let just anyone use you? I could fuck any hole I want. I could go out there and have every cunt and ass and mouth. You know why I won’t?”

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t try to answer, don’t stop what you’re doing.

“Because they ain’t you, sweetheart. You’re my perfect girl. Nicest I’ve ever had. And if I got something this nice, and I don’t share it with my brother? You don’t even suck him off right? How do you think that made him feel, baby?”

He keeps it up, past the point where he feels like carrying on, but he can tell it’s wearing you down faster than the relentless facefucking. You’re starting to work your jaw, joints popping in between visitors, but even that doesn’t compare to the way you’ve started to shake when he’s scolding you.

“I know you’re tired, baby. I hope you remember this fuckin’ lesson because I’m not sacrificing two nights of sleep again to repeat it.”

You whimper around the stranger’s cock, which encourages them to fuck into you harder. But Joel knows the tears in your eyes aren’t from that.

“Yeah, you were bein’ selfish, huh? I couldn’t fuckin’ sleep with you out there, and now I’m up all night with you here.”

There it was, he thought, watching you break. A little too early; it was going to be tough to keep you going. But nothin’ did you in like the thought of having hurt him in the process.

And it was true. He never slept with someone out in The Pit. Too fuckin dangerous. He kept watch on a camera. He needed you scared and sorry, not dead.

He watches as you choke down the stranger’s seed, looking like you might retch. He shuts the little sliding door for a few minutes and gives you some water. After you’ve rehydrated and seem a little less green, he opens it back up.

“Alright, get ready for the next round.”

In the truck on the way home, he keeps you tucked close to his side. Between the dark, empty highway and his coat wrapped around you, you start to doze off.

He nudges you a little. “None of that now. Ain’t finished with you yet.”

You whimper, not in protest but in exhaustion. Despite how hard you try to fight it, you’re fast asleep when he pulls into the driveway.

He thinks about waking you up anyway, to follow through on his word. He carries you inside and up to the bedroom, still deliberating, but when he tries to set you down on the bed, you cling to him desperately, even in your sleep. He manages to wriggle the coat off you and lays down beside you. He’ll just let you both rest for a little while.

You wake up, mid-afternoon, shaking all over. Joel awakens moments later, eyes wide as he tugs on your arm to roll you over.

“Oh, baby,” he says, and moves to get out of the bed. “Knew I shouldn’t have let you go to sleep.”

But you grab onto him, lip trembling.

He knocks your hand away. “I‘ll be right back, jus’ hold on.”

You’re curled into yourself, sobbing, when he gets back three minutes later.

He hands you a water bottle anyway. “Sit up; you need to eat. It’ll help.”

Somehow, you find the strength to struggle and wriggle your body into sitting. He brings you to lean against his chest while he leans against the headboard.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a kiss pressed to your head.

You start crying hard all over again.

“I know. M’sorry. I should have talked to ya last night, huh? S’that what you’re all worked up about?”

You nod. There you are, sitting in his bed, when you hadn’t fucking earned it. But he doesn’t shove you off or hurt you for it; he just feeds you a protein bar and lets you sip at the water between bites.

After he’s given you the last of the bar, he has you slide down to your knees by the side of the bed.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I disobeyed and embarrassed you.”

“I didn’t ask you what you did wrong.”

“Oh,” you say softly, and have to think. “I didn’t understand, at first. That you wanted me to suck his cock.”

“And after you did?”

“I—” you don’t want to say it. You know he’s going to be mad. He doesn’t like when you question things like this.

“Is this because Tommy said you weren’t special? ‘Cause you know better.”

“No, I just… why did you get rid of the others? What did they do?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and cups your face in one hand. “I don’t think that’s anything you gotta worry about. Not anymore.”

“But how will I know how to do better?”

“You already are. None of ‘em ever made it this far. They talked big talk but couldn’t back it up. Some of ‘em didn’t want to give up the things you have, some of ‘em couldn’t handle my expectations. I told you, you’re the nicest thing I’ve ever had. You’ve let me make you exactly the way I want you to be.”

“Even though I was so bad the other night?”

“Yep. Because you took every consequence, and I know you’ve learned your lesson. And you’ll probably fuck up again someday. But if you keep wantin’ to be better, I’ll keep teachin’ ya.”

You can’t help but cry again. You’re so tired and so tired of crying.

“What, were you worried I was gonna replace you with some new young thing someday?”

You nod, and he clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m gettin’ old, sweetheart. I don’t want to keep breakin’ in toys that ain’t worth my time. I just finished puttin’ you back together exactly the way I like ya. You stay my good girl, and you’ll be mine ‘till I die.”

It doesn’t stop your tears.

“Hey,” he says. “What do you need?”

It startles you. “What?”

“What do you need? What’s gonna make you feel better, baby?”

You’re not sure when the last time you’ve had to think about something like that is. He’s been taking care of you for so long now.

“Whatever you want,” you say.

“No, baby, that’s not what I’m asking.”

“That’s my answer, though,” you realize. “I need to feel whatever you want me to.”

“God damn,” he whispers. “I fucked you up, huh?”

Your lip trembles.

“No, baby, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just kinda incredible. Jesus. How could you think I’d ever get rid of you? There’s not a fuckin’ bit of you that isn’t mine.”

Your cheeks burn, so you bury your face into his palm and press a kiss to the center.

“You want to know what I want, is that right?”

You nod.

“I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth. And then I want to order us some fuckin’ takeout and eat it in the bath.”

It makes you smile just a little.

“Yeah? That sound good, baby?” His thumb rubs against your cheek.

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, open up for me.”

You wrangle yourself into position. The initial weight and taste of him sends warmth through your bones for the first moment since he dragged you outside.

It’s sloppy, the way he fucks your throat, in a way it usually isn’t. It’s always messy, but his thrusts are erratic. You can’t keep up with his pace because there simply isn’t one. It’s not long before he’s holding you down and pumping his cum down your throat.

It trickles down and cleanses everything in its path. You’re lighter, like you can breathe again. You thank him sweetly, pressing a kiss to his twitching cock.

He’s panting, but strokes your cheek with one hand. “That’s my good girl. Feel better now that I washed all those other guys outta your mouth?”

Technically, he had done that last night, had shoved three soap-covered fingers in your mouth in the gross club bathroom. Wretchedly, it had the side effect of making you nauseous, and he had insisted on doing it over after you threw up.

But this felt more pure to him, more consecrational in a way. The soap might have cleared the actual evidence away, but his come was your wine and wafer.

“Yes, sir,” you say into the flesh of his thigh where your head rests. You kiss there for good measure, eliciting a pleased hum from him that sends you preening a little.

He lays back on the bed, leaving a hand on the top of your head to stroke your hair while the other gropes around for his phone. “What do you want, baby? Lo mein?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

He feeds you noodles in the bath and then eats you out until you fall asleep.

iv. reduced to bone

You’re on your knees in the basement, bent forward over a metal pipe placed at just the right height to nestle into your hips and keep them tilted up in the air. Stocks hold your head and wrists in place, tits hanging just below. The wood is slowly dampening as you drool around the ring gag.

“Got a surprise for you, baby,” he had said when he led you down. “You know how you keep beggin’ me to hurt you worse, and I have to keep tellin’ you I’m not tryin' to wear you out?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Well, I think you’re going to like this.”

That had been… well, you’re not entirely sure. A while ago, maybe, but your brain wasn’t the best judge of time right now. After he had secured you here, he had dragged out the little machine. It’s sitting under your torso somewhere, thin clear tubing stretching out like a web he’d caught you in.

There’s no noise but the hum of it, which you’ve gone pleasantly numb to. The pressure is unending, each nipple and your clit being tugged into the tiny cups relentlessly.

It tingles, just on the side of too gentle to be fulfilling on its own. That’s okay. You’re pretty sure you’ll be in delicious, mind-shattering agony soon.

This you know because, well, it’s Joel, but also because of the tools he’s laid out on the little wheeled cart and left for you to stare at.

A thin cane. Clover clamps with a length of chain. A tawse with a tapered, pointy tip. A wand.

It makes you dizzy to look at.

Also, you know because it’s a Friday night. Joel enjoys you however he likes any day of the week, but he’s careful about saving the deepest of his cruelties for Fridays. Because mind-shattering wasn’t really an exaggeration. When he gets like this, you sometimes don’t surface enough to take care of yourself for a day or two.

On those occasions, he never leaves you alone. Doesn’t want to, both because he loves when you need him that deeply and because you’re so soft and pliant. Truthfully, he thinks he could do anything to you then and you’d thank him for it.

Which is why he’s got Tommy coming over tomorrow. It’s not that he thinks you need to be out of it to avoid a repeat of last time. He knows you learned your lesson and you’ll be good.

But he’s got something special in mind that he needs help with. It’ll just be easier for everyone if you’re at your most agreeable.

And yeah, you owe Tommy a blowjob. One of the ones that make Joel feel like he mighta died and somehow gotten through the pearly gates by the grace of your devotion.

Plus, he’s pretty sure you’re going to love his plan, and he wants you unprepared, so you’ll cry real pretty and be truly desperate to show him your appreciation. It’s been on his mind since that night a few months back when you didn’t seem to believe him about never letting you go.

He’s never fucking letting you go. There’s nothing in this world that could take you from him. He’s made sure of it.

Sometimes, he has to remind himself that you don’t know you’re married.

He thought about telling you that night, so you’d understand the depth of the commitment he’s made. But he doesn’t want you to take it the wrong way. Doesn’t want you thinking you need to act like a wife .

He’d had a whole bucket of bullshit cooked up to excuse it, but when he told you to sign the paper, you hadn’t questioned it. Hadn’t questioned that you couldn’t see what it was, only the line where he pointed. You’d signed the fucking paper and never asked a goddamn thing.

He was glad. He didn’t like lying to you. This was just one of those hoops to jump through in a world that didn’t understand what you shared.

When he comes back down, your eyes are already glazed over. Your body shines with a thin layer of sweat, and your chest is heaving as you squirm. It’s gone beyond gentle. The waves of suction have you whimpering soft and high, barely louder than a breath, but nearly constant.

He chuckles and strolls over, crouching down to wipe the sweat off your brow with the bandana from his pocket before it gets in your eyes. You give him a truly pathetic look, eyes wide as you drool helplessly.

“Not so nice now, huh?”

You whine.

He strokes your cheek with an exaggerated pout before sliding two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue. It tries to curl around them, eliciting another cruel laugh.

“Jesus, girl. S’there anything that would stop ya from gagging for my cock?”

You shake your head. Even if you weren’t spread by the ring gag and choking on his fingers, you’re beyond speech. Too far deep.

Joel actually doesn’t mind when you talk. He’s got no rules restricting your speech (well, most of the time). As long as you’re respectful, he likes the company.

But he really likes when you go quiet like this. When he’s pushed you so far that you can’t .

“Look at you, all worked up. We haven’t even gotten started, baby. You gonna be able to take it?”

You nod, whining, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes them on your cheek.

“What was that, baby? Couldn’t quite understand ya.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you whine again.

“I’m just teasin’,” he says and kisses your forehead. “I got ya. I know you’re gonna be my good girl and take everything I fuckin’ want.”

He reaches down and tugs the tubing until the cups pop free of your breasts. You cry out, but it turns into a desperate moan when he tugs the one off your clit.

Yeah, he coulda turned the pump off first so they just fell off, but where’s the fun in that?

He’s grinning wickedly as he reaches back up to your breast. He barely, just barely, brushes over the side of your nipple, and the sound you make goes right to his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so swollen.” He has to remind himself he’s playing the long game; he just wants to pinch and pull so badly. He’s pretty sure you’ll scream, even though normally it wouldn’t be much at all.

But he wants to fuckin’ torture you tonight, so he’s going to drag it out. He wants you incoherent and beaten down when he’s done, so far gone you’ll stay there for days.

So he’s gotta start soft. He drags his fingertip around your areola, not quite brushing the nipple but tracing the ring left behind by the cup. You twitch, shoulders jerking back, and he grips your breast.

“None of that, now,” he croons, letting go and switching sides to torment your other breast.

It’s holy, in that way you never quite understood. Not like the Jesus kind, though you never were much for church either, but in the way that people chase salvation through empty bottles and sharp needles.

With the wand and the tawse, he breaks you down again and again and again. But that’s the thing about Joel. He reduces you to pain or pleasure or the delicious apex of both that brews between your thighs, and then he cleans you back up, puts the pieces back where he likes them.

He makes you come until you cry, and then, when you’re sobbing and exhausted, that’s when the night really begins. You’re twitching and jerking at the barest contact, writhing with every snap of the cane.

It’s so, so good. Until it isn’t. But he’s running that damn mouth of his, that sweet, filthy mouth, and you can’t not take it. Your tears are gone, all run out; he likes to wring you dry. And he keeps rubbing his hand over your hypersensitive flesh, already raw and ruined, and murmuring soft words and sweet taunts.

“Look at you,” he croons. “My pretty little toy. You’re so beautiful, suffering for me like this, baby.”

And so you do. You suffer for him. There’s nothing left in your little subby brain right now but Joel Joel Joel.

You’re dry. He almost can’t believe it. The only time you’ve not been a sloppy, soaking mess was when he broke your finger.

He whistles low and slow. “Shit, baby. Guess you have some limits after all, huh.”

It’s impressive that you can even lift your head enough to shake it weakly. An overwhelming fondness washes over him.

“ Aw. Takin’ it for me anyway, were ya?” He comes around and squats near your head, unhooking the gag and easing it out of your mouth. He rubs gentle circles on the hinges of your jaw as you whimper.

“Did so good for me, baby. Lemme get you outta there, and I’ll give you my cock.”

You shake your head, tears spilling over, but you don’t have a voice. The words don’t come together in your mind, just devastation.

His grip turns tight, forcing you to look at him. “No? You tellin’ me no?”

You shake your head again, lip quivering.

“You don’t want my cock?”

You shake your head harder and try to reach for him, hands flexing where they’re bound in the stocks. Trying to make him see just how bad you want his cock.

Luckily, he understands that much. “You wanna stay there? Baby, my knees ain’t gonna like fuckin’ you here.” But he can tell from the way your face crumples that he still isn’t quite getting it.

“Are you tryin’ to tell me you want me to keep goin’?”

You nod and he slaps you, a sharp strike that catches you by surprise.

“Stupid girl,” he says, scowling, and gripping your chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I decide when we’re done. The whole point of this was not to ruin ya. This ain’t a punishment. Well, it wasn’t. Might be, next time.”

He stands up, shaking his head. “Dumb fuckin’ cunt.”

It hurts worse than the cane did.

When he sees the heartbreak on your face, he sighs. “Ah, shit. Look, I know you’re just tryin’ to please me. But you’re makin’ me feel bad for tryin’ to be careful with ya. If I take it too far today, you won’t be able to take as much anymore. I ain’t breakin’ you.”

You’re sobbing too hard to respond, but you don’t try to argue or struggle when he releases you. You crawl to lay kisses to the toes of his boots and nuzzle your cheek against them.

He sees it for the apology it is.

v. parched to dust

This time, when Tommy Miller takes out his cock in front of you, you’re ready. And there’s no way in hell you’re disappointing Joel again, so you wrap your lips around him, not quite eagerly but with enough determination that no one could fault you.

When you drag the second consecutive orgasm from him, he tugs you away with a fist in your hair, panting and gasping. Joel swats his hand away and beckons you back to his lap.

“ Jesus,” Tommy finally says, tucking himself back into his jeans.

“Told ya it was just a bad day,” Joel snipes.

“Sorry,” Tommy says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shoulda figured. It’s just… you’re a little soft for her, yeah?”

“Course I am. But I’m not soft on her.”

You know he loves you. You do. But hearing him admit that he’s soft for you makes your chest ache.

“Got another surprise for ya, baby,” Joel says, rubbing his hand over your back.

You’re overwhelmed. It’s not that he doesn’t give you things or do things for you; it’s that it’s never such a big deal. It just is . He takes care of you. That’s how this works. Not gifts and surprises.

You bite your lip so you don’t question it, but he sees through you.

“Now I know you don’t remember. D’you even know what day it is?”

“Saturday,” you say. “You’re home.”

He shakes his head, but it’s betrayed by the smirk. “You’re right, baby. But what’s the date?”

You actually have to think for a minute. You hadn’t crossed off the calendar this morning like you usually did, and yesterday’s activities have you a little rattled. “It’s um, it’s August 19th?”

“That’s our anniversary, baby.”

Your brows scrunch as you try to think back. That’s not right. Your first date was in February. You moved in sometime early in June. You’re not sure what his metric is, but August doesn’t make sense. “Um. Are you… are you sure?”

He doesn’t get mad like you thought he might. He just laughs. “Course, I’m sure, baby. It was the night we came home from your folks’. When you agreed to be mine.”

Your face heats. “I’m sorry—”

“Y’ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about, baby. I didn’t expect ya to remember. But you’ve been mine for two years now, and you’re still worried I ain’t gonna keep you. But I’ve been thinkin’, and I know how to prove it to you.”

If this doesn’t convince you, he thinks, nothing will. Never mind that his whole goddamn life revolves around you. Never mind that you’ve worn his collar for the last 731 fuckin’ days.

You’re busy wondering why he made you suck another man’s cock today if he cares about your anniversary. But then again, you’ve long accepted that what he wants won’t always make sense. It’s not your job to make it make sense. It’s just your job to do it.

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs,” he says.

You swallow hard around the sudden fear, and he laughs.

“What? Had enough yesterday?”

“No, sir,” you say. It’s mostly the truth. Mostly.

He shakes his head. “Not today. C’mon.”

Now that he moves, you follow.

Tommy’s already in the basement, which almost gives you pause, if only because his movement startles you.

Joel has you hop up on the padded table instead of the metal one, typically a sign that either you’re going to be here for a well-extended time or that he’s going to fuck you on it.

Tommy’s setting things you don’t recognize out on the little cart, but you don’t try very hard to look. Looking makes your breathing get a little ragged, so you look at Joel instead.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, bending slightly to give you a kiss before he begins to slowly circle the table, fastening straps over your body.

He’s left the dress on, which is weird, too, but you’re not complaining. It’s always a little chilly down here and even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re glad he’s not made you bare yourself completely in front of Tommy.

It’s a lot of straps. You watch curiously, if not a little dazed, as he secures your ankles, thighs, stomach, chest both above and below your breasts, arms in three places, neck, and head.

The one around your neck clips to your collar, not adding another band or choking you. But you’re unable to lift your head and neck at all.

When he’s done with the strap across your forehead, he smooths away the worry lines that crease beneath it.

“Just need ya to hold real still. You’re probably going to like this, but don’t fuckin’ come.”

“Yes, sir.” Your eyes are wide and worshipful as you wait for further commands.

“Be real good for Tommy, okay?”

Your heart pounds in your throat, but you promise immediately.

He hops up to sit on the spanking bench nearby.

“Where first?” Tommy says.

“Hip,” Joel says, settling in to watch.

Tommy goes about his business and pulls the bottom halves of the table apart, wrenching your legs open slowly. He spreads them wide and slides a stool over, situating himself right up by your cunt, and flips the hem of your dress up over your belly button.

You whimper and try to look at Joel for any indication of how you’re supposed to behave, but the restraints don’t allow enough wiggle room.

Something cold smears across the front of your left hip, and, much to Joel’s surprise, you break. You’re still raw in more than one way from the previous day.

“Please, sir,” you blurt, lip trembling and eyes squeezed tight.

He hops down, brow furrowed, and comes closer, raising a hand to Tommy to pause him.

He cups your face. “Please, what, baby?” His other hand rubs up and down your side.

You force your eyes open to look at him, blurred through waiting tears.

“Please, can I have a gag?” you say. Your eyes are scrunched, and fists clenched.

He strokes his hand over your cheek. “‘Course you can. Good girl.”

The praise keeps you calm while he steps away. When he comes back, you open your mouth wide, and he settles it between your lips.

You nearly cry in relief when you feel the little bulb press inside, not much different than the head of his cock. A few tears spill over when he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Atta girl, he says, pinching your chin before returning to his perch.

The warmth of his touch lingers, and you let the pressure of the gag distract you from where Tommy starts to move again. You suck on it steadily, eyes fluttering shut when you feel the unmistakable scrape of a blade across your hip.

Shaving. He’s shaving you. You can’t fathom why, with only peach fuzz reaching there. And you think maybe it’d be a cold day in hell before Joel let anyone shave your pubic hair. He liked it kept trimmed but not too neat.

“I’m from the seventies, baby. Women’re supposed to have a nice healthy bush,” he had told you fairly early on when you were just dating. He hadn’t told you to stop shaving and waxing, but of course, you had.

Warm water washes over the area with a washcloth not far behind. Tommy’s firm hand does a final sweep with something cold.

“Alright, honey,” Tommy says, his voice almost seeming fond , “just hold still and be a good girl, okay?”

As if you’d do anything else.

You startle a little at the loud buzz that kicks up, and Tommy rubs gloves fingers over the opposite hip for just a moment.

And then he gets to work. It hurts . But the pain clues you into what’s going on, and you come to the only logical conclusion: Joel’s having you tattooed.

You start to cry, the feeling of being loved and owned overwhelming. You don’t hear Joel’s chuckle, buried as it gets under the gun in Tommy’s hands.

You thought it was overly cautious of him earlier, to worry about you having an orgasm during anything involving Tommy. But you get it now. The pain itself is bearable, almost delicious, but the rush of euphoria in your veins from the mere concept is intoxicating.

It goes on and on. Maybe it’s only half an hour. Maybe it’s four. The pain cycles, fading to a soothing heat before building back up to a scald.

You don’t realize it’s over right away. The buzz of the gun plays on in your brain even when the room falls quiet. And Tommy’s doing something to it, probably wiping it down, but your skin still rages.

Joel hops down and comes over to the side of your left leg. “Shit, that’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says to his brother.

“Looks damn good. Hey, she’s got a real pretty pussy, huh?” He says, elbowing Joel. “S’funny, watchin’ her leak all over.”

Joel peers over, running a finger over your cunt, and laughs. “Knew you’d like that,” he says.

You whimper.

He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo. “Want to see, baby?” He asks though he’s already turning the screen to you.

The skin is red and irritated, but the ink takes your breath away. In shiny black, right there on your hip, sits a blocky “JM” surrounded by a circle. It looks like a fucking brand.

Your eyes fly to his, whining desperately and praying he understands. A sly grin spreads across his face, and the tip of his middle finger traces oh so gently up your slit.

“Come for me, baby,” he says, not bothering to touch you further. He knows you won’t need it.

Vision blacking out, you writhe uselessly against the restraints as the pleasure batters through you. You’re only vaguely aware that the loud keening sound is coming from you, but it’ll register later when you feel the raw ache in your throat.

Tommy whistles. “Sorry I doubted you, princess.”

You whine through the aftershocks, tears welling up again at the thought of the tattoo. You hope Tommy would leave so Joel will fuck you.

Then you remember him asking, “Where first?” just as Tommy drags his stool around to the right side of your torso.

Joel comes with him, rolling up his sleeves and tinkering with something on the cart. They both touch your arm a lot, fingers roving and adjusting you. You start to tune it out until Tommy lathers a spot on the inside of your wrist.

Once it’s been shaved and cleaned, someone presses something against the spot for a moment.

“Well?” Joel says.

“Lines look clear to me,” Tommy says. He’s leaning close to your arm.

Joel doesn’t walk away this time. As the gun kicks back to life, he stays with his hand resting on your upper arm, looming over Tommy’s shoulder.

It’s easier this time, now that you know what to expect. It hurts, but you’ve had worse and probably will again. You’re feeling a bit too dizzy, though, when it finally stops.

“This one’s for you to see,” Joel says, starting to unlatch the straps. He frees your arm first and then your head and neck, plus the gag. The ache makes itself known as soon as you shift a little.

You peer immediately at your wrist, and a strange clenching tears through your chest. A few inches below your palm lays the dark outline of Joel’s thumbprint.

“Oh,” you whisper, a strange tingling spreading through your limbs. “Oh.”

“Knew you’d like it,” he says, lips curling into a smug smirk.

Once you’re untethered, he peels your dress off so the fabric won’t brush against your hip.

“There’s a protein bar and a bottle of water on the coffee table,” Joel says. “Go eat and wait by my chair.”

You’re swaying a little but he helps you down and makes sure you can stay on your feet before he removes his hands from your waist.

You make your way upstairs in a daze. Truthfully, you don’t really remember it. When they come upstairs, you’re knelt in your place, wrapper and empty bottle on the table.

“Good girl,” Joel says, lowering himself with a little groan into his recliner. He shifts around and pulls his cock out. “C’mere.”

You hop up immediately, and he takes you by the waist to help you settle where he’s fully hard already.

“Don’t move,” he says, to your great disappointment. “None of that,” he scolds at your pout. “It’s my turn. Just relax.”

Tommy sets the gun and equipment up to the side of the chair. You settle against Joel’s chest, snuggling in and resting your head on his shoulder so you can watch.

Joel’s other hand, the one not waiting in place, comes up to cup the back of your head. He bends his head down to kiss where he can reach. “You’re being so good. Just a little bit more, and then you can take this cock.”

“Do not come on her tattoo, Joel,” Tommy says.

Joel laughs, but Tommy smacks his arm. “I’m serious. It’ll fuck it up and probably infect it. Don’t fuckin’ do it.”

“I’ll wait ‘till it’s healed, don’t worry.”

You moan and clench around him at the idea, which only encourages his pleased chuckling.

Tommy takes your hand, peeling it from where it rested against Joel’s chest, idly brushing through the hair there. You let him, letting it go limp and unresistant.

He presses your thumb against an ink pad and pushes it down on a piece of paper, rolling it carefully. He repeats the process a few times before he’s satisfied. Wiping it clean, he coats it one more time before pressing it against Joel’s wrist.

You stare, rapt, as he traces the lines of your fingerprint onto Joel’s thick arm, framed by dark hair. It sits in parallel to the watch on his other wrist.

“Where d’you want these?” Tommy says after he’s wrapped up and started to pack away the equipment. He’s holding the papers where they tested your print.

“The safes. One in each office,” Joel says.

It’s weird, certainly, but so is Joel, so you don’t give it much thought.

He’s cradling your face in his palm, looking at you with something so tender and ferocious that you can’t possibly look away. He thrusts up into you, his other hand tight on the hip opposite the tattoo.

It hurts, but, well, you don’t mind.

The way he fucks you open now is slow, cruel after making you sit still for so long, but he’s savoring it. Savoring the way you can’t help but stare at him in worshipful bliss. It’s like a drug, the way his attention makes you hazy. He’s got you hooked, addicted, right where he wants you. His.

Not a damn part of you that isn’t.

The smirk curls across his face, and his hand curls around your neck, abandoning the gentle caress for something you both understand as love. You come on his cock when he tells you, every time he tells you, as he leaves you gasping and clutching his forearm, not prying him away but holding on as the room spins.

When he fills you, he kisses you deeply, hand back around your throat as his mouth takes the rest of your air. You collapse against his chest when he lets go, and he holds you there with a smug, satiated smile and a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You doze in and out in his lap as he and Tommy share a bottle of bourbon.

“Damn, I shoulda brought Daisy over. You haven’t had someone for her to play with in a while,” you hear Tommy say through the fog of your brain.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Joel says. His hand is scratching at your scalp and it feels so good you almost forget Tommy is talking.

“... my wife and your little pet—” he’s saying.

You don’t mean to open your eyes, but you catch his as soon as you do. He laughs. “Yeah, I got a wife. I’m not as mean as my brother, here.”

You find that hard to believe, but also, you don’t really think of Joel as mean. He’s strict, sure, and he has high expectations. But he takes such good care of you, and you want for nothing.

The phrase stirs something odd in your head. Do you want for nothing? Well, it’s at least partially true. You don’t want anything, not a thing you have or don’t have. You’re happy with whatever Joel gives.

It’s probably the same thing. Besides, you wanted that career; you wanted to put on a face, a mask, and pretend to be someone who gave a shit about the company’s reputation. And you were wrong, so wrong. And Joel’s always been right. So what do you know about what you want?

Joel’s rumbling voice startles you a little where you’re tucked against his chest. “She was one ‘a mine, y’know,” he says to you.

Tommy’s wearing a sly grin. “Yeah, until you scared the shit out of her,” he says, laughing. “Poor little thing didn’t know what to do with herself.”

“She wasn’t like you,” Joel says. He waits as if he expects a reaction, but you don’t stir from your safe place in his arms.

“Nah, not everyone’s as fucked up as y’all,” Tommy says. “I ain’t a sadist,” he says to you, a glint in his eye. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love puttin’ her in her place, but mostly, I just like havin’ my pretty little wife at home.”

Joel’s watching you; you can feel the heft of his gaze. But you’re so blissed out, so calm right here in his lap, dripping his seed slowly around where his cock still fills you.

“Would that bother you? Playin’ with a girl who used to be Joel’s?” Tommy goads.

You think about it for a moment. “She ever get his mark?”

Tommy grins, teeth like a shark. “Nope.”

You hum, unbothered, and nuzzle your cheek against Joel.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Knew you’d learn this time.”

You gaze at his thumbprint on your arm. The cells around it will grow and die, but not his claim on you.

It’s almost comforting, you think, that by the time that fades, there’ll be nothing left of you anyway.

bonus: the art of breaking playlist

thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who asked for a part two and expressed love for the first. I will admit I am INCREDIBLY nervous to publish this both because it's kind of fucked up but also because so many of you loved the first part and I'm scared this won't live up to your expectations.

please, if you enjoyed this, let me know! soothe my anxiety lol. and if you don't want to publically do so, anon is always on.

i love you!

#dead dove fic #dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #dark fic #dddne #tw non con #READ THE WARNINGS #HEED THE WARNINGS #fic: the art of breaking

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hellish-sunsets · 7 months ago

Text

You're an Asshole - Pt 4 - Morning After

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

Summary: Adam hated dealing with the morning after fucking someone. He was usually so careful, making sure they went to her place or a hotel or something, just so he can leave before she wakes up and avoid the whole thing.

Warnings: Cursing, Sexual themes

Word Count: 1,349

--------------------------------

He did not plan this out properly, did he?

Now, the original plan in his head was simple. Prove he wasn't an asshole, win her over, maybe fuck her, and move on with life the same awesome bastard he had always been.

But then he was stupid and brought her back to his apartment.

Usually he would go to their place or something, leave before the bitch woke up and avoid the awkward ass morning after. They were all one night stands anyway, what did it matter. But he couldn’t very well leave when it was his own apartment.

He guessed it didn't matter. She'd probably think he was an asshole if he pumped and dumped and all that work pretending to be a better person would be for nothing. He was stuck.

He… probably should care more than he did. He hummed, nuzzling into her hair as he thought.

He had slept better last night than he had in a long fucking time, and it didn't suck waking up to someone in his arms. Especially when that someone was so fucking hot.

B8t what should he do now? He wasn’t about to make her breakfast or some corny shit like that. He could stay here, pretend to be asleep until she woke up herself. Leave what to do to her. But what if she wanted to snuggle or some bullshit like that?

… he supposed he could suffer through it. Just this once.

He shifted the golden wing covering her, almost unconsciously pulling her closer, an arm draped over her waist. They got a blanket on themselves sometime in the middle of the night, though he didn't remember grabbing. He didn't remember changing positions either, but they did. It was probably all her, safely snuggled into his chest. She probably just grabbed the blanket or something.

He sighed, letting his eyes flutter shut. He would wait on her then.

He drifTed in and out of sleep until, eventually, she did wake up. She made a sleepy noise, then stretched herself out under his wing, white wings spreading out behind her before resting there on the bed. He kept his eyes closed, but he could feel her lips land under his jaw, then on his cheek.

He let out a sleepy hum, letting his eyes flutter open to look down at her.

“‘Morning.” He mumbled, and she giggled, her lips pressing against his neck.

“Good morning, Adam.” She hummed back and he could feel her smile against his skin. Shit, that shouldn’t turn him on so much. But then she was pulling away, sitting on the edge of the bed as she stretched her arms and wings. It was the perfect chance for him to admire that hot ass body of hers in the morning light, all soft edges and tempting curves.

Yeah, he could totally fuck her right there if he wasn’t afraid he’d scare her off or something.

Still, he laid on his side with his cheek propped in his hand as he watched her search the floor for her clothes, smirking at himself. He couldn’t help but feel like he was the shit, pulling such a fine piece of ass after so much work, so much time and shitty concerts playing the nice guy. Or at least not quite as bad a guy.

The real question was how long he could keep it up. Or if he wanted to. Surely he had proven his point by now right?

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” Her voice broke through his thoughts and he glanced up to see her with her clothes bunched up in her hands, and god she really did look great with her tits out. She should go shirtless more often. Or all the time. He smirked at her, letting his eyes roam her body greedily. Nah, but then those other fuckers would get to see her like this too, and he wouldn’t have that.

“Down the hall to the right. ‘Course, if you’re looking to shower I could always help…” He teased, but she was having none of that.

“Nope, not showering here. You and I both know we’re not going to get very clean.”

“We’d get there eventually, we would just have a bit of fun too.” He gave a shrug, sitting up in the bed.

She sighed, but he couldn’t quite decipher what that meant. Was she disappointed? Going to give in? Or something else? Who was he kidding, of course she was going to give in! After the way they fucked last night, there was no chance she’d say no now!

“Nah, I really gotta get going.” She finally said. She smirked when she saw him scowl, but shrugged in a ‘watcha gonna do?’ way and vanished through the bedroom door towards the bathroom, leaving him alone in his bedroom.

He heard the bathroom door shutting and huffed, stomping out of bed to put on some sweats.

Fucking bitch, not even pretending to care, just up and leaving. What, was she going to ghost him now? This is why he should never have brought her to his place. At least then he could just leave before she got the chance to kick him out or something.

He paused and took a deep breath. He was being an asshole again, wasn’t he? He needed to be sure to keep these thoughts to himself. He shouldn’t be getting upset anyways. If she just left and ghosted him, then he didn’t have to pretend anymore and could just take the win like the badass he was.

He heard the bathroom door again. He expected the bitch to just walk out, but those footsteps were heading back to the bedroom instead.

She looked disheveled as she walked in with that fucking smile, cleaned up a bit but definitely still in need of a shower. He should probably take one too, now that he thought about it. He had that shitty meeting later today.

“Uh, so I gotta head out, shower, eat something, stuff like that. Got band practice today. I’ll see you later, okay?”

And she sounded so damn happy and chipper, for a moment it seemed like she actually meant it, the seeing him later. Perhaps she wasn’t going to ghost him after all. Which brought up the question, why was that the first thing he thought of? Why did he jump to being abandoned so easily?

… he didn’t feel like thinking about that. Instead he gave her his most charming smile, which he was sure wasn’t that good considering they had just gotten up. His hair was probably a mess, he was only wearing those sweats he put on, and again, he really needed that shower. Still, she seemed to brighten regardless. That was only natural, of course. He was the fucking best, even if he was a mess.

“No problem, sugartits! Rock on, and text me later, yeah?” Wait, sugartits was probably the wrong thing to see. Woman considered that an asshole nickname, didn’t they? He’d have to try something else next time. But she was still smiling, so it couldn’t be so bad.

“Hell yeah, text you later!” She said with a wave and headed out. He followed her footsteps until she reached the door and that shut behind him.

… yeah. Yeah, that wasn’t too bad, as far as morning after’s go. They had a great night, she didn’t seem disgusted or upset in any way, and she probably wasn’t going to ghost him. He supposed he would just have to continue the game a bit longer, keep policing himself and prove he was a good man, as exhausting as it was. It would be worth it if he got to tap that ass a few more times before she got tired of him. God, he was getting hard just thinking about it. Well, harder, it never did go down from earlier.

He smiled to himself and collected some clean clothes so he could take that long ass shower. He was already looking forward to that text from her later on.

#reader insert #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x angel!reader #adam x reader #adam

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hrtzz · 9 months ago

Text

Striker x Ftm (succubus) reader

Warnings: (SMUT, degrading, Accidental creampie, mentions of female aligned body parts, reader has top surgery but no bottom, js kinky shit to be honest.)

Reader works as a bounty hunter as a side job for quick cash grabs, He didn't realise how hard this new bounty was going to be.

You got out of your run-down car, and the thing was beat to a pump, with all the fighting and bullet holes you were surprised it was still running. You took the photo of your bounty out of your pocket, he was handsome, of course, but you weren't exactly bothered, you had a job to do, and you were going to get it done as quickly as possible. You looked ahead at the run-down bar, the big neon sign hung high, some letters flashing, the red light hanging by a wire. ‘What a dump’ you thought to yourself as you strolled inside.

You see your target at the bar sipping a whiskey by himself at the bar, the stool he was sat on was red velvet and torn. Discretely, you walk over and order a small shot before walking to a table and keeping eyes on your target as you sit down alone. He stays there for a good half an hour before finally paying his tab and leaving, as he pushes through the saloon doors you swiftly follow. He goes… behind? The bar? Unusual but you don't know what he's up to so you aimlessly follow him.

As you turn the corner an arm slams you to the wall. Fuck. You were caught.

“You think I wouldn't notice your eyes on me darlin’?” a low southern accent spoke out.

“If I did I would have been more careful” you chirp back just to hear a condescending dark chuckle come from his throat.

“Oh you're a mouthy one aren't you cutie?”

Cutie? You might be able to catch him after all. “Yeah… and?”

“I don't like the mouthy ones.” you feel a sharp blade come near your stomach. “Always the most fucking annoying to kill.”

“Who said you were killing me?”

Another chuckle pursued.

“You're in no position to be making decisions honey.” the knife grazes your abdomen and some blood is drawn in the procedure. As he drags the knife up your stomach a mark on your lower stomach is revealed and striker looks at it in curiosity before giving a smirk.

“What's this for eh?”

You didn't say a word back, he knew what it was, and you weren't going to be his little bitch to explain it to him.

“A succubus? Well, aren't you a rare one?” he grinned, his gold tooth showing

“What's it to you? Asshole” he chuckled again.

“I've never been with a succubus before, I imagine the experience is quite extraordinary.”

“I'm not an experiment.” you scowl back at him

“I mean succubus or not darling, I'd still ravage you~. How about I make you a deal?” he smirks

“What deal?”

“You spend a night with me and I won't spill yer guts for attempting to kill me.” He raised an eyebrow as his grip loosened on you.

‘What an ass’ you thought to yourself. You knew he wouldn't be able to kill you and you were pretty sure he knew it too, but hey, what's a bit of harmless fun? “Oh please big scary cowboy I'll do anything! Just don't hurt me!” you say sarcastically, gaining another deep chuckle.

“You got jokes too huh?” Striker released his grip and held out his hand for you to take, you took it and he led you to his horse lifting you onto the back of it “I'll take you someplace real nice darlin’ don't you worry!” he snapped the bridles and the horse set off.

Now you end up in a hotel room having Striker push you against the door as his long tail wraps around your thigh using his spare hand to lock the door, the other to take off your clothes. As he takes off your shirt he looks at your chest admiring your physique “damn.” he smiled.

“Like what you see?” you pant between the kisses. Striker didn't say anything and kissed you more passionately than you expected but you reciprocated it nonetheless. He ran his hands up your figure gripping your hips slightly as you pulled off his shirt. He was toned, very toned, not that you were complaining at all.

Striker runs his hand along your ass as he picks you up and takes you to the bed throwing you down and holding your wrists together. He peppers kisses down your body sucking on your nipple slightly before going down to your pants. His tail rattled excitedly “Your tail rattled? That's cute.” you giggle, striker frowned “I'm not gonna be the cute one in this situation when you're underneath me.” he chuckled as he unbuckled your pants and pulled them down. You carried on talking “Oh sure you cocky bas- FUCK!” you gripped the sheets to look down and see a cream cowboy hat, although you couldn't see what he was doing, you felt it. You could feel his tongue circle around your clit and he sucked it like his last meal making you whimper “M-move the hat…” you say shakily.

Striker stops, making you whine before taking his hat off and placing it on top of you're head “fuckin cute” he snickered and before you could say a word he went back down on you more aggressively as he gripped your thighs his claws sinking into them to hold them to place “god your pussys fucking perfect…” he mumbled making your cheeks heat up. Striker was eager to make you cum as he dipped a finger in your hole curling it slightly and then adjusting your hole by pushing a second one in making you whine as you gripped his hair the cowboy hat falling over your face making striker hiss. He wanted to see your cute little face while he was ruining you. He pushed the cowboy hat out your face and pushed his finger in deeper hitting just the right spot as his digits curled into your fleshy walls. “God if you're this tight around two fingers how are you going to take my cock?” he chuckles as he carried on getting you closer and closer to the edge.

“Striker I'm gonna-”

Then he stops.

“What the fuck I was nearly there!” you say frustrated

“I want you to beg for it.” he smiled sadistically

“Fuck yo- shit!” you winced as he rubbed your clit painfully slow smirking at you.

“What was that sugar?” he chuckled before his face went deadpanned, “Beg, bitch.”

You couldn't take it… you had to… “please let me cum, please please, please, please I'm so close, make me cum sir…”

Striker immediately picked up the pace and curled his fingers fast inside you making you tighten around his fingers sending you over the edge as you let out moan, your pussy creaming all over his fingers “Good boy… that's more like it…” he smiled as he licked up your juices off his hand.

You catch your breath as he kisses you gently moving you up the bed before unbuckling his pants. He lined himself up and looked at you smiling before roughly shoving himself in making you scream in pain and pleasure, meanwhile strikers tail rattles again as he mumbles under his breath “fuck…” he puts his arms on either side of you “god you’re tight…”

He regains himself and instantly starts going at a brutal pace pulling you into his chest against the headboard his tail rattling from time to time as he moves relentlessly “Fuck! Shit shit!” you whine as you try to come down from your last time cumming but you managed to bear it.

Striker chuckled and breathlessly spoke “You'll take down satan himself with that language” he chucked as he carried on pushing in and out of you leaving hickeys on your neck.

You didn't respond and just wrapped your arms around his neck panting into him, helplessly. Striker continued to thrust into you before slightly pulling you into him and lifting you up, allowing him more leverage to fuck you.

God damn could you feel it. As soon as he took his first thrust you felt his tip press against your G-spot, making you moan into his neck “Striker- I can't hold it honestly!” striker chuckled as he picked up the pace and circled you clit at just the right pace snarling at how tight you were getting around him “fuckin keep this up then I'll be cumming soon…” he gnawed into your neck and sucked a hickey into it as he pushed you to the limit. Finally, you feel the knot in your stomach undo as you whine and wrap your legs around him. Your pussy pulsing around Striker’s cock.

“Shit- wait darling!” striker gripped your hips tightly as he tried to push himself away from you, in means of not to cum in you but as you came your legs accidentally held him in place and he couldn't get out of it. “Fuck! sugar fuckin mo- fuckkk!” he groaned as he felt your walls wrap perfectly around his cock while he twitched inside you releasing all his warm sperm inside your pussy.

You both were panting and could barely catch a breath through the small kisses you gave each other, “might have marked you more than I want” he chuckled as he pulled out of you and looked to see his cum leaving your pussy “That's fucking hot.” he smirks as he looks up at you.

You on the other hand were a little panicked as no one had ever raw cummed in you “Yeah until I'm 5 months pregnant!” I scowl, just leaving striker there laughing “Well I couldn't exactly pull out when your legs were around me, besides, don't succubus want cum?”

You never before but by god you did now “I suppose so…”

“Then you'll be fine, I'll grab you the pill in the morning.” he said as he pulled you into him

“You better,” you remark and you lay on his chest.

(I do take requests so if you feel like making one have a look at my pinned blog and leave them under there!)

#striker x reader #striker x ftm reader #x ftm reader #striker x male reader #striker x trans reader #x trans reader #helluva boss

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darthdaddi · 25 days ago

Note

Uhh would you be willing to write a little drabble about crispy Vader with a breeding kink? 👁️ 👄 👁️ every chapter of Ani’s life he’s had it. AOTC would just be because of learning what he’s able to do with his body and finding it fascinating, ROTS is all because he wants that family and he finds it hot to picture you all swollen with his child but Vader with it I feel like is more primal and UGGHVGH it’s so hotttt

MDNI 18+

Vader is a mean man, especially to you because simply you allow it without a real fight anyway. He's a little vindictive, mad at the universe, always. You're the object of his desires, the cruel ones anyway. You found yourself in a bit of a predicament, an odd, yet arousing one. On Vader's bed you were sprawled out, not that he'd use it for anything but sex, he has his meditation chamber and bacta tank for that. The two of you have worked around his clunky suit, if you weren't fucking in the meditation chamber where he could take his mask for a moment, he'd opt to pull his dick out of the cod piece to access you.

So he did, and that's where you're at now, ass naked and folded up like a damn pretzel under the weight of the colossal man. He's pumping into you like no tomorrow, the rigid scarring of his heavy cock massaging at your gummy walls, "Gonna fuck this baby into you, understand, girl?" Vader spat, voice distorted by his mask, yet you could tell he was he was really putting the work in due to the increase of loud breathing through his module. You'd shake your head no in protest, but did you really mean that? Vader knew you all too well, after all he could read your emotions like an open book. You'd love to be given his child, but was it the right moment? "G'nna give you my baby.." he'd murmur, a moment of softness from the man, maybe a glimmer of his former self breaking through? But that would change when his hips slammed into you, earning a loud yelp from your lips when he hit your cervix with brutal force, "Please... I can't take it anymore. I-it's too much!" You'd whine and protest, yet you made no move to actually stop him. Your arousal was white at this point, bubbly from the amount of effort he's putting into fucking you into oblivion. It began to smear on the fabric of his pant garment, but he'd worry about making you clean that later. Vader basked in the sound of your pussy squelching, meant he was doing a good job keeping you aroused despite your constant need to protest him. The sounds of his respirator began to pick up, signs that he is close to his inevitable orgasm approaching quicker than anticipated. But that's what happens when you go days, even weeks without feeling your tight cunt wrapped around him.

It was time, time to do what he planned on all along. Vader wanted to see you swollen, plump with the product of his creation. This, this was a gift. At least that's how see saw it. He thought you should be greatful for what he is giving you, his child. Greedy bastard. Vader sped up his bucking hips, damn suit made it impossible to look graceful while fucking. His breath only slightly hitched as a warning. He blew his load, coating your walls in his cum. He promptly pulled away once he made sure you were full to the brim, holding your ankles, which were pinned painfully by your head as to not spill his seed he so graciously dumped into you. You'd whine, squirming slightly, "But I didn't-" and with that you were cut off, "You will have your time to finish, wife." And that was all. after he tucked himself back into his suffocating suit and wiped off what little he could of your combined fluids from his flaccid cock and trousers. Vader left you there, in your mess, that you'd have to clean. Though it was all a kink really, just a fantasy. He couldn't actually get you pregnant, completely sterile after being burnt here on Mustafar.

Oh how I love you Rain, this was waaaay longer than I anticipated on writing, so I do apologize for that. also I already have a burnt Vader fic in my master list if you want to check that out 🤭

#thx for the msg! <3 #moot: rain #jay writes 📝#darth vader #star wars smut #burnt vader #anakin skywalker #idk if I like this!#i feel like I could have added more detail #i think I started blabbering half way through #my brain short circuited

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vanfleeter · 1 year ago

Text

Mirror, Mirror // DRW

Characters: Danny x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, you know the rules. Smut. Sex. Penetrative sex. Unprotected sex. Mirror kink. Oral (male receiving, allusion to female receiving). Praise. Mentions of porn. I'm probably missing something so let me know. Author's Note: A little Danny smut blurb fic thingy never hurt anyone.

Summary: Absolutely no plot.

The bedroom door flies open as Danny kicks it and steps into the room with you wrapped around his waist. He carries you over to the bed and lays you down before finally parting to catch his breath. “Aren’t you glad we left the party early?” He says as he moves his hands down your waist before gliding them up underneath your dress. “I can’t believe you wore this tonight. I practically had to fight every primal instinct to bend you over the couch in front of everyone.”

Looking up you notice a mirror on the ceiling. One the size of the bed. Cocking your head to the side, you tap his hip and he lifts his head. “What the fuck is that?” You say pointing behind him. He turns his head, a smirk spreading across his face.

“It’s new..” He says.

“Do you like to watch yourself?” You say.

“It helps when I’m alone.” He says with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

You hum and smirk at him before flipping the two of you over. “Have you ever imagined giving me a blow job?” You say as you undo the buttons of his jeans.

“I have..” He says, craning his head downwards to watch you. He lifts his hips high enough for you to pull down his pants and boxers. You pull them off his legs and dump them on the floor. He’s already panting in anticipation of feeling your lips wrapped around his cock.

Nestling yourself between his legs, you wrap your hand around his cock and slowly begin to pump him. His head drops back on the pillows as his eyes fall closed. “Keep your eyes open,” You order as you still pump his cock. “You have the mirror. Use it.” You see his eyes move upwards, staring at the mirror. “Good view?”

“Mmhmm..”

You smile and lean over to wrap your mouth around his cock. He groans, his eyes flutter closed once more as his hands curl into your hair. He tugs gently as he thrusts his hips upwards and pushes himself deeper into your mouth and nudges the back of your throat.

Forcing his eyes open again, he looks back up at the mirror. He groans at the sight of you with his cock in your mouth. He’s all spread on the bed, his hands in your hair and your head bobbing up and down. All of his imaginations become real right before his very eyes.

He watches your hand as it leaves his cock and trails up to his hip and gives it a gentle squeeze. He feels your tongue lick around his cock making his eyes roll.

“Fuck baby.. Right there..” He pushes you deeper on him as he thrusts once again, shoving himself down your throat. “Mmmm.. So perfect, you take me so well.” But he abruptly pulls you off of him.

“What?” You say as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I want to watch you ride me..” He says as he pulls you up by your arms and plops you down on his lap. “I want to watch in the mirror.”

He pushes your dress upwards and pulls your underwear to the side before slipping his cock inside of your entrance. Both of you moan in pleasure as he stretches you out and fills you. His hands grip your ass as he guides up on his cock.

He tilts his head back to look up in the mirror. “Yeah.. Just like that baby.. Look at you, so beautiful.” He reaches up and pulls on your hair, tilting your head backwards. “Look at the view baby..” He says. “So fucking sexy..”

“Oh fuck.. Danny..”

He thrusts himself deeper inside of you, still holding your head back. “Yeah, say my name again..”

“Danny..” You moan, clenching around his cock.

“Open your eyes,” He says as he tugs on your hair. “I want you to watch yourself as I make you come undone.” He says, continuing to pump himself inside of you. You moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“Danny..”

“Mmm, getting close baby..” He breathes, now clutching tightly to your back and digging his fingers into your skin.

Feeling you clench around him, he tilts his head back again to look up into the mirror as your orgasm finally takes over your body. He praises you through it until he reaches his own. String of curses flow from his mouth until he empties completely inside of you. The two of you fall back into the pillows, you still on his chest and him still inside of you.

“Fuck.. I knew that mirror would come in handy.” He says, looking back up at it and admiring your bodies that reflect back at him. Sweat gleans on your bodies and he can see his rosie cheeks. A smile spreads across his face and he hugs you closer. “We’re gonna be doing this often. It’s like free porn..” He says earning a slap to his chest making him laugh.

“Daniel Robert!” You say with a hint of a laugh in your tone.

He laughs and rolls the two of you over so that he’s on top now. “Now it’s your turn to watch me..” He says as he slowly slides out of you and moves down the bed.

__________________________________________

taglist:

@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @lightmylove-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @thetroublegetssoloud71 @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @sacredmachine @jordie-gvf-admin @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jaketlover @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr @stardustsecret @sunandthemoontwinflames @everyglowinthetwilightknows @wetkleenex-gvf

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please reach out! ❤️

If I missed you on the list, please remind me!

If your user is not highlighted, I do apologize--tumblr acts like a butt 😫

#greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #danny wagner #danny wagner fic #danny wagner fanfic #danny wagner smut #gvf #danny gvf

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unknownperson246 · 4 months ago

Note

Current day Rachel Bolan where he is so turned on with the thought of getting reader pregnant that's all wants is get you pregnant

After a night of pleasure he makes her lay still and holds her still so his work will stay inside her

(Don’t mind the picture)

Modern Rachel Bolan: Stay Still

words: 822

warnings: *smut* *breeding kink* *daddy kink* *degradation* *being rough* *dirty talk* *hair pulling*

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You were talking to Rachel and you both were planning to have a baby but you wanted to wait for the right moment. You wanted to wait until Rachel wasn't on tour so he could be there and take care of you when you needed him the most. You were so excited recently because Rachel finally finished all of the things he had to deal with. One night he was lying down in bed reading a book. You planned to surprise him in some white real satin lingerie.

“Hi, baby” You put your hands on your hips while standing in the middle of the door frame.

He seems uninterested in your efforts to excite him.

You put on a seductive face for your husband. “It’s baby-making time” You smirk as you walk to your bed. You start to unbuckle Rachel’s belt and then you unbutton his shirt after you take his belt off and throw it on the ground. Before you took his pants off you rubbed his cock through his pants. You could see it throbbing. He slides his pants off. He is naked and standing in front of you after he pushes you off of him. He grabs you by your hips and he pins you on the bed. He flips you around and takes your lingerie off. He throws it off to the side and your bare delicate form is in front of him. “You're turning me on you slut. I bet you used to sleep with other men like this when I was gone huh?” He purrs in your ear while pinning you.

“No Daddy” You moan as you feel his cock rubbing against your ass.

“I would never cheat on you, Daddy. We know what we both want so start the work.” You tell Rachel.

He flips you over again so your back is lying on the bed.

“Look at that pretty cunt. My words make you so fucking wet don't they?” He pulls your hair.

He places his cock at your entrance. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You start to get all dazed.

“Look at that so cock drunk before I’m even in you.” He laughs in your face and he grabs your chin.

“Mmmm you feel so good honey” Rachel whispers in your ear as he nibbles on your ear.

He sticks his cock inside and starts to go very fast. He goes at the speed of light. His hips collide with yours over and over again.

“Oh fuck Daddy let me have your baby” You moan as he pumps his dick in you.

“You're going to have my baby soon,” Rachel groans.

You were so hungry for his cock for a long time. You both really wanted a baby. He was so turned on by the idea of getting you pregnant.

“You're definitely going to get pregnant tonight. I love the idea of having a baby with you.” Rachel groans as his huge dick shifts deeper in you.

“You're going to look so good pregnant. You will be full and round with my baby.” He groans in pleasure at the idea of getting you knocked up with his child.

“You're going to be a good mommy to our little baby” He moans.

“I promise.” You cry in pleasure.

“If you want my baby you will have to stay still and let my seed do its work” Rachel groans as his hand is groping your tits as his dick is inside of your pussy.

“Just stay still and let my baby grow in you. I'm almost there honey” He moans.

His head goes back and his toes curl. His legs shake and he keeps his hands on your shoulders. You leave your orgasm around his cock.

“Daddy fuck me good and deep Rach- Daddy” You correct yourself before Rache had a chance to correct you.

You whimper and let out small cries over and over again. You are breathless and waiting for him to spill his load inside of you.

“You're so fucking tight baby” He moans.

He dumps his wet load inside of you.

“That was amazing Rachel.” You say after he pulls himself out of you.

You get up to pick up your lingerie that was on the floor. Rachel suddenly grabs your lingerie out of your hands. He throws it back on the floor.

“Hey stay still,” He says as he pins your body on the bed.

“Let my work stay inside of you,” He says as his body is on top of yours.

He sticks his pointer and middle finger inside of you so none of his seed goes to waste. You moan slightly as you feel his fingers inside of you.

“Think about it. Soon we will have our baby in our arms” He smiles at you.

He pins you on the bed for 30 minutes until he is confident you have his baby in you.

#rock n roll #80s rock #rock #80s bands #rachel bolan #rachel bolan skid row fanfic #skid row band #skid row band fic #Rachel bolan x reader #Rachel bolan smut #Rachel bolan fluff #80s rockstars #rockstars #80s music #rpf x reader #rpf fanfiction #rpf fic

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 11 months ago

Text

Ctrl + Shift + L

Summary: Eli's way too shy to ever talk to you in person, so he helps himself to a late night stroll through your Cloud files to get to know you.

Pairing: CyberStalker!Elijah Kamski x afab!Reader

Word Count: -1,8k (This was supposed to be a drabble…)

Content Warnings: Smut 18+!, Stalking, Hacking, Female And Male Masturbation, Heavy Violations Of Privacy, Obsessive Behavior, Strong BDSM Themes

A/N: This has been eating away at my ability to think for the past few days…

Tagging: @blueberrypancakesworld @herprivateisland

I'm inside of your system,

I'm inside of your lair

To haunt you is my destiny

I'm a virus, impossible to find

I'm lurking in the shadows of your mind

- Virus By Priest

You wouldn't even have recognised him as he'd passed you on your way into the supermarket, automatic front doors swishing open as you squeezed yourself right past him as he was walking out, his hands clasping around filled grocery bags. Elijah knew that you'd be on your way now for your weekly shopping run and he just couldn't hold back a nervous smile as the light scent of your perfume crept up into his nose. Flowery, fresh and persistent enough to stay with him until he arrived back at home.

This, alongside plenty of others, was one of Elijah's little weekly rituals to keep up with you. He went shopping with you, not just groceries but sometimes also clothing or a bouquet of flowers from the florist right next to the little café you frequented nearly every morning for a tall coffee latte with exactly one pump of vanilla syrup. It always made him think of how your lips would taste like sugary sweet vanilla when you strolled into your workplace with the cardboard cup still in your hands. On the rare occasions when you fell sick, Eli had sat across from you in the waiting room, avid to keep his ears perked to make sure you were healthy and well again soon. None of that you'd ever noticed. Why would you? He was just one face of hundreds of thousand in this city and whilst Eli went unnoticed, he knew everything about you.

Really everything? That's at least what he'd been thinking until he decided to treat himself one Saturday night. After months of “looking after you” it had gotten a bit stale to be close to you by getting himself off to the few rare bikini pics he'd found by digging through your Instagram page. There was something about you, something he couldn't quite pinpoint but it told him that there was more to you, that he just had to venture far enough to find the thing you were hiding away and to him, a Cloud storage provider was nothing else than a server. A server that could be hacked just like every other and that he did in a heartbeat. He couldn't even really describe it as hacking because you weren't really careful with your almost very much the same passwords you used online. In general, it was a mixture of your dogs birthday and the name of your first real crush from middle school… Tyler. Ugh, Tyler, by now a divorced loser with a receding hairline and a latent porn addiction. Maybe a few changed in regards of capital letters but it took no more than two tries to get into your Cloud data storage account.

“Let's see what you got in here, sweety.” Elijah murmured to himself, excitement making his pulse pick up a beat whilst the pale light from the desktop reflected from his black- framed glasses. For a moment, nothing really caught his eye: files filled with family vacation pictures, an occasional photo dump of a night out in town from two years ago… nothing really new to Elijah until he spotted a folder titled “Teacher” that made his eyebrows arch up.

“The fuck's that?” He asked into his bedroom that was only illuminated by the shine emitting from his laptop that sat in his lap. You'd never worked as a teacher, not once and nothing even remotely close to that. After high school you went to college whilst working in retail hell to support yourself and afterwards you went on to write for a history magazine with your freshly accomplished degree. You'd never been a tutor or a teacher as far as Eli knew and even if…why would that be any data worthwhile to keep around? With slightly knit together brows, he clicked on the folder just to land in a subfolder with files dated in almost sterile accuracy. One folder for every week reaching back as far as nearly two years ago. As Elijah's stomach bubbled with the need to find out what this was all about, he double-clicked on the folder titled with the date from 3 weeks ago just for his eyes to widen and his for his jaw to nearly drop.

Trying to comprehend what was loading up on the screen right in front of his, Eli's mouth stood slightly agape as the only other physical reaction came from further down. Before his critical thinking had caught up to what he was looking at, his body surely had and he felt his cock unapologetically twitching against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. Picture upon picture of your bare skin practically jumped at him and a heavy groan erupted from his chest as he clicked on the first image to start investigating somewhere. He nearly choked on his own spit as his eyes roamed over the photograph. Your face wasn't in frame, perhaps a safety measure stemming from the nature of the contents, but it didn't even need for Eli to know that it was your naked body that he saw. You'd been flipped on your stomach, wrists held together by cable ties as the dainty rings on your fingers gave away that it was without a doubt you. There was hardly any fabric covering your behind, just a pair a ripped fishnet-stockings stretching across your ass and thighs. A lack of panties practically presenting your thoroughly soaked and glistening cunt to the viewer.

“Uh…oh…OH…” It trickled from Elijah's lips as he moved the cursor to click for the next picture. Your posture was nearly the same but instead of smooth skin underneath the skimpy stockings, it showed your ass all bruised up in colors ranging from a bright red to deep purples, almost like a sadomasochistic nebula painted to your skin by brute force and he didn't know how to feel about that. The sight right in front of him turned him on beyond measure but at the same time…how have you been with someone he didn't know of? How had you been able to keep that side of yours from his ever watching eyes? Eli felt like scolding himself, a surge of white-hot rage jolting through the pit of his stomach for being so utterly incompetent and not seeing what had been right in front of him the entire time! Your loose sweaters, your liking for mainly long-sleeve tops and just softly form-fitting pants…it all came together now but on top of all of that it should be him, always should've been and not some strange rando you hid away somewhere in your Cloud files…

The potent mixture made out of rage and arousal ebbed through Elijah as he continued clicking his way through the files, pictures of your naked body in deliciously compromising poses causing his jaw to clench and teeth to grind with the same fervor his cock pressed against his slacks. He was so agonizingly hard that it almost hurt just for his fingers to brush around the outlines of his hard on. In a vain attempt to soothe himself, Eli gently cupped himself with the full width of his palm, the careful pressure aimed to ease the constant throbbing as his fingers fondled with his tightening balls.

“Fucking hell, babe, what's all of this, hm? You're gonna drive me insane…” The words came as a hardly choked back moan as Eli moved his hand above the fabric of his sweatpants. Up and down in slow, careful motions to not just explode and gush into his shorts like a pent-up virgin on the first date but the first eager drops of pre-cum soaked through already.

Elijah kept it together, softly stroking and pleasuring himself whilst clicking through your pictures like they were his personal peep show. He tried so hard to not just run with his desires, to drag it out and to savor every moment in which he body shivered with arousal but after a few minutes and several naughty pictures, he came across a full on video file and in that instant, he could've sworn that Christmas came early this year.

With his heart raging inside the ribcage, he hit the spacebar for the video to start playing and as soon as a pitch-black screen lightened up to reveal a shameless close-up recording of you fingering your flushed and swollen pussy with not two but three fingers that pushed inside again and again whilst your needy moans echoed through the speakers of Eli's laptop, he felt his throat render dry. Every word seemed stuck in his throat like a lump he just couldn't swallow no matter how hard he tried. With reddened cheeks, he watched you fuck yourself in high resolution right on his damned laptop screen and couldn't hold back any longer. Exhaling a shallow, trembling breath, he led his hand to slide past the waistband of his slacks, helping him to slide both the pants and his shorts just down enough to free his aching cock that he started fisting the very second he had the fabric off of him.

“You make me so fucking hard and so fucking desperate. It's so damn pathetic. Should be me who does that to you.” Elijah’s thoughts now just ran free as the rapidly rising arousal intoxicated his mind. It didn't take long for his balls to tighten up again, his cock in his hands growing rigid with every next stroke before his entire load spurted out onto the keyboard and up to his navel in thick white ropes. His orgasm rippled through him in a brutal outburst, making him feel lightheaded for seconds after the gushes of sticky cum flowed all over his hand too.

“Fuck!” Eli whined out before taking a deep breath, half-lidded eyes still trained on the screen that depicted you shoving your fingers knuckle-deep inside your wet cunt anew. With a slim grin on his face, he contemplated how long it would take before he could again.

#detroid become human #detroit: become human #dbh #dbh elijah kamski x reader #dbh elijah kamski #dbh fanfic #elijah kamski smut #elijah kamski x reader #elijah kamski

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discount-shades · 10 months ago

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Dead or Alive: Family

Dead or Alive: Sugar and Jake

A/N: Someone asked if I was going to write about when Sugar told Jake she couldn’t have kids so here it is. It got away from me a bit…

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader

Warning: Trigger Warning: Abortion, Fertility problems, Western themed violence.

Word Count: 1200 ish

Summary: Some updates on Sugar and Jake after they leave the Dagger Gang.

Previous Masterlist Next

Frozen, you stare at the sheets before you. A smear of blood blemishes the otherwise snowy white bed linens. Another month and you were not pregnant. Blinking back tears, you pull out the sanitary belt from where you had tucked it in the back of the drawer before dressing for the day. Your time of the month was only a few days late and as much as you fought against it, as much as you tried to squash it down, you had hoped that this time it would be different.

Angrily you began to strip the bottom sheet off the bed. You had just put fresh linens on yesterday. Now you had to spend an hour washing and ironing it all again. You dump the sheet in the wash bin on the porch and begin filling it up from the pump by the back door.

Jake had been away last night. He had spent the evening on guard duty at the local jail cell. You shake your head ruefully at the change in circumstances. Move a few states east and Jake would be the prisoner that needed guarding and not the deputy holding the keys.

You will never forget the day that the sheriff had arrived at your door. Jake had volunteered to ride in a posse a month earlier and had helped apprehend a man accused of murdering a gold miner a few towns over. You weren't sure of the details, you only know that Jake had saved the sheriff's life.

When you answered the door the sheriff had held up wanted posters with Jake’s and your real names without saying anything. As you stared into eyes the uncommonly accurate likeness of your own poster you had felt your stomach drop to the floorboards. You tore your eyes away and gazed at the blue sky and the California mountains towering over the small farm you and Jake had built. The dirt road trampled into the dirt led to the idyllic little town you had settled beside. Everything you had ever wanted was right here and you had brushed aside a tear, sure that the jig was up.

You clutched at Jake’s hand as the sheriff spoke. “Before these came in I was planning on asking if you wanted one of these officially.” He had held up a shiny, sliver deputy’s badge to Jake. “I did some thinking and the offer still stands for Mr. Smith.” He used the fake name the two of you had been living under. “Or I’ll allow Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin and his wife one week to leave town, if that is your decision.”

He handed the badge to Jake. “If you want the job Mr Smith, I expect to see you tomorrow and I’ll read you in.” He passed you the posters. “If I do not see you tomorrow I will be back in a week to arrest the both of you.” With a final look that ensured that you and Jake understood his meaning, he tipped his hat and walked away.

That was seven years ago now and the only thing that had changed was the sheriff was now talking about retiring and had been encouraging Jake to run for sheriff when he did. Your mind returns to the task at hand and you grab the soap and washboard and begin to scrub the stain on the corrugated washboard. Once the mark is as clean as you will get it you wring out the heavy sheet and hang it on the line. Maybe you won’t bother ironing it again. Jake won’t care and no one else would notice if your linens had wrinkles.

After milking the cow and collecting the eggs you head inside and start on breakfast. Jake should be home soon. You are just finishing breakfast when he canters up on the pinto horse he had taken to riding since retiring Jet. The old black gelding now spent his days teaching manners to weanling foals and napping in the shade. You turn to smile at Jake as he walks through the door but your lower lip begins to tremble when you see the look on his face. He knows what the sheet hanging on the line means.

Forcing an overly cheery greeting past your lips you turn back to the stove so you don’t have to see the disappointment in his eyes. “It’s scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast today.” You begin to plate the food, hoping that the familiar routine will calm your emotions.

Jake’s arms wrapping around you finally slows your movements and you lean back into his chest. “It’s never going to happen.” It is easier to speak the thought that has been sitting in your mind for years if you do not have to look him in the eye.

“You don’t know that.” His lips are soft as gently kisses your temple. “It might still happen.”

“No,” You sigh, finally ready to confess the secret you have been keeping from your husband. “It won’t.”

Turning in his arms you look up into his green eyes. “I was pregnant before.” You watch his eyes widen in shock but he doesn’t let you go, in fact he tightens his grip on your waist. “It was before us, I was barely 18.” You continue waiting for him to push you away.

“It was before the quickening, but it had recently been made illegal so a doctor wouldn’t do it.” You can’t read his expression and don’t know if you should continue but find that you are unable to stop. The secret has been eating at you for years. “I tried tansy, pennyroyal, gin, hot baths… but nothing would work, eventually the madam where I was working made it happen.” You brush a tear away and drop your gaze, unable to meet his eye anymore.

“There was an infection. A doctor did treat me for that, and he said I might never be able to get pregnant.” You watch Jake’s chest as he takes a deep breath and sighs it out before pulling you in for a hug. He gently cradles the back of your head as silent tears slip down your face.

“So it will just be you and me then.” His chest rumbles under your ear at his words and you pull back to meet his eyes sniffing.

“Are you ok with that?” You search his face as he smiles sadly down at you.

Jake gives a little shrug. “I can imagine my life without children.” He gently kisses your lips. “What I can’t imagine is a life without you, Sugar.”

“You would have been a great father.” You say thinking about seeing him interact with the local school children.

“And you would have been a great mother.” You brush a tear away at his words but your heart feels lighter at his easy acceptance of your past. You no longer have to pretend that you are expecting to get pregnant. You no longer have to fake anticipation and hope that you have long given up on.

“I guess it’s just the way it goes sometimes.” You are finally able to bring a small, sad smile to your lips. “Some things are not meant to be.”

#jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin/reader #hangman/reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun hangman #topgun maverick #western!au

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 5 months ago

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The Unwanted Visitor, PT 3

Part 1's here, Part 2 here, enjoy! (I swear I'll finish apns soon, but I just got a bad case of new-wip-itis)

The sun was shining, the wind was pleasantly cooling, and it was a wonderful day. At least, it would have been if I hadn't been cycling for my life. My feet pumped like hell was on my heels, and my thighs ached from the exertion.

As I passed through the gates, I could hear the bell chiming, a warning to students that the doors would be locked soon.

"Wait!" I screeched, pulling on the brakes as the gates swung shut.

The guard, Mr Gerry, was standing there with his arms crossed. "Cutting it a bit close, aren't we?" he teased.

"Yes, sorry," I panted, leaning on the bike for support. "You know, I wouldn't be this late if school started at a sane time, right? Who the hell gets up and ready at 10?"

Mr Gerry laughed. "I don't know. You might wanna start waking up earlier, though. If you're late one more time, the school'll give you detention."

"I know, I know," I grumbled. It was all Visitor's fault. He had turned off my alarm, wrecked the wheels on my bike, held me up with his pranks and so much more, and it was taking a toll on my attendance.

"Anyway, I've got to go. You should hurry too, Aida." Mr Gerry waved me through the gates, and I dumped my bike to the side.

Joining the tail end of the flood of students entering the halls, I flipped up the hood of my jacket. Being the weird kid who lived at the edge of town was social suicide, and not being allowed to invite anyone over made matters worse. I was stuck being the butt of all the jokes, and I couldn't even beat them up, because I would get suspended. (Don't get me started on what happened when I poured bleach all over their lockers and ruined their stuff.)

"Oh, look, it's AIDS on legs," someone hissed as I walked by, and I artfully ignored the muffled laughter that followed me. I hated my name, or at least the first part of it. It was ripe for the mocking. I mean, what the hell kind of archaic name was 'Aida', anyways?

Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do. I was still a kid, after all, albeit not for long. Soon, though. Soon I would be free of these idiots and I would move out into the great world. I comforted myself with that thought as I stepped through the door, prepared for the next session of the shitshow that was my school.

"Good morning, Miss O'Dell. I trust you have a good reason for being late?" My homeroom teacher, Miss Kearney, glared at me from her seat.

I sighed. "No, Miss." I doubted that 'my spirit held me up by causing trouble' was a valid excuse.

"I'll let you off this time, but do it again and you're in deep trouble, Aida," Miss Kearney snapped. She wasn't usually so snappish, but she'd had a bad day, apparently. All the better for me, I thought bitterly.

"Yes, Miss." I slid into my chair in the back row, the most unobtrusive spot in the room.

"Okay, now that everyone's here, we can finally introduce a special guest. She's an exorcist consultant for the police; Please welcome Mrs Bell, everyone," Miss Kearney said.

"Hello," a woman with brown hair stepped into the classroom. Her suit was impeccably crisp and her smile was perfectly polite. I instantly disliked her.

"Mrs Bell has kindly agreed to teach us a bit about the paranormal. You'll have plenty of time to ask questions, but for now, listen up," Miss Kearney said sternly.

The class sat up straighter, looking interested. The paranormal was a big interest amongst the students. Magic was rare in Palioden, and exorcists were both respected and beloved by the people. I wanted to be a mage, when I grew up. (Everyone did, but I was one of the few who had an affinity for it.)

Miss Bell stood to the fore of the whiteboard, brandishing her pointer like a wand. “Children, what do you know of spirits? Not the cute sort you see on television, that is. The real kind.”

A smattering of hands shot up. The nice thing about my class was that most of us were teacher's pets, and that allowed me to slip right past their notice.

“Spirits are the most powerful sort of twice-dead. They're found in the Celitane Forests, the Syvniko Mountain Range and west Palioden,” Lucia piped up. Lucia was exactly the sort of person I hated, popular and people-pleasing. The feeling was mutual, and she was one of the main proponents of the Anti-Aida-Army (or AAA as I liked to call them).

“Correct!” Miss Bell clapped for her, and I rolled my eyes in disgust. “What an excellent foundation of knowledge you children have! I see my job is already half done,” she added with a wink, and I finally understood why Visitor was scared of exorcists. If they were all so sickly sweet, they could probably melt his eyes out with their friendliness.

“Now, we've received reports of a spirit haunting this area, so my team sent me to help you all understand spirits and how to deal with them!” That made me sit up a little. Had my parents finally grown a pair and reported Visitor? “Firstly, spirits differ from humans in three major ways; They're translucent to the human eye, they have unusual eye colours and they have sharp teeth. So if you spot someone who covers most of their face and body, and never reveals their teeth, you may have met a spirit. And if that's the case, you need to report it to the police!”

I was incredibly tempted to point out that a great deal of those who covered their entire body were simply doing it in the name of their religion, but the need to not get noticed outweighed my wish to stir up trouble. “Why do we have to tell the police? Are they dangerous?” It was Jack, member of the AAA and possessor of approximately 2 brain cells.

“Yes, they're very dangerous,” Miss Bell said, her sugary expression hardening. “That's why I'm here, because this isn't a playing matter. Spirits kill people for fun, for their own pleasure, for no reason at all. While one is free, we cannot rest.” I thought that was rather dramatic; Visitor had never harmed a hair on my head, for all his threats.

“I'm going to ask you an important question now. Which of you has been harbouring a spirit?” Miss Bell smacked the pointer against the teacher's table, and I flinched. “I know one of you did it, and I know which of you did it. Now, own up.”

Taglist here:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

#writeblr #writing #my writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #spilled ink #writing community #fantasy #short story #I am so tired rn goodnight guys

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behoright · 2 years ago

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holy l b. burns (+ canes)

i could make it for you / cause you're so beautiful

summary: burnzie teaches the boys how to treat a woman by his standards.

wordcount: 5.1k

song: holy - king princess

warnings: this is absolutely depraved. 18+ only, minors dni. smut, smut, smut. BDSM, dd/lg relationship, voyeurism, cuckolding. lots of dirty talk and baby talk.

a/n: I… don’t know what came over me. Nobody asked for this, yet here it is. sorry. please let me know what you think !! also more love countdown coming before the end of the week. this is barely edited oops. also. this is a work of FICTION. it has absolutely nothing to do with anyone’s real, personal, private life. this is just a story: an idea, a creation of imagination, something we fantasize about. nothing more, nothing less.

𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂

“Dude, is that the same chick that Jarvy hit the other night?”

“Wait, what?”

All the boys’ heads turned to gather around Martin, whose eyes were currently stuck on his phone.

It wasn’t unusual for the team to split into younger and older guys after morning skate. They all scattered at the rink, going through the steps of their own routines.

“That’s totally her.”

“Let me see.”

“KK fucked the same girl as Jarvy!” Martin screeched to Andrei, who was already giggling.

Jesperi and Seth looked at each other, right before fist bumping. It was easier for them to have these conversations away from the more senior members of the team, let alone any coaches or managers.

“She was good, huh? Too bad her face looked like that!” the comment from Jarvy caused the rest of them to go into hysterics.

“Oh man, I had to turn her around immediately. How are you going to fuck athletes and still look like that?”. Everyone laughed, as they kept chatting. Just locker room talk, no harm in that.

Burnzie, however, couldn’t help but overhear their conversation, as he stood here, incredulous. He tried to not let it get to him, but some of the comments completely crossed the line.

“You guys are so fucking pathetic.” he said. His voice was loud enough that it constantly stopped everyone in their tracks - all of their younger guys dropped silently and turned to face him.

“Oh, c'mon Burns, you know what we mean.”

“Yeah, I remember those days. You think you’re such tough shit, huh? You’ve been fucking for, maybe 4-5 years but think you know it all. Meanwhile, all those girls you’re running through go home and finish on their own because you pump and dump them. At the end of the night, you’re both left with nothing. An empty, meaningless transaction.”

They all stared at their older teammate with their jaws on the floor, absolutely speechless. They held each other accountable, but none of them had been called out this harshly in a while.

“Oh, you think you’ve got it so much better because you’re old, huh?” Jalen tried to hit back, awkwardly chuckling.

“Trust me, I know how good I’ve got it. I know what I’m doing.”

“Dude, what are you even talking about?” KK chimed in.

Burnzie picked up his bag and turned towards them before heading out.

“If you’re really curious, come to the ranch on Friday. There’s no game, but stop by at night. Actually, think about it, and if you want, text me. I’ll let you know the details. Perhaps you’ll see and learn something that doesn’t involve a puck.” he said, tranquil, before heading out.

⊹ㅤִ ໋⊹ㅤִ ໋

All they got was an address, a time, and a set of rules for the day. It was sent as a group text to them, so they all assumed they weren’t going to be alone. As they all individually pulled up, they recognized each other’s cars. Brent had a huge property, and his house was on the outskirts. It looked almost like a manor.

“Do you know what we’re even going to do?”

“No clue. But curiosity is getting the best of me.”

“Me too. That’s the only reason why I’m here.”

They were greeted at the door by a maid, who lead them through the house. No questions were asked - they were certainly being expected. Once reached a door at the end of the corridor, she took their phones, locked them away in a box next to the entrance, and left. They all looked at each other before Jarvy was brave enough to open the door.

The guys walked into a dark room.

It was relatively small but had an otherworldly feel that none had ever experienced before. Andrei ran his hand against the black textured wall as he looked around. Huh. Soundproof. The only objects in the room were 12 chairs, all black, neatly separated, all facing a sort of window. The boys all approached it. The glass looked tinted, but they could distinctly see through it. They could see a room, with a king-sized bed, red and black sheets perfectly tucked into the mattress. A black dresser stood against maroon painted walls. A mirror enveloped the ceiling, except for a small chandelier that dimly illuminated the room, most of the light coming from the two bedside lamps sitting on the nightstands. The floor, was a dark mahogany, partially covered by a creamy fur rug that sat in front of a lit fireplace. Last but not least, in the corner of the room closest to them, a velvet futon. On the wall opposite from them, only a door stood, tightly shut.

Neci leaned closer, placing his palms on the glass.

“This looks like one of those windows from Law and Order. You know, the ones where they can’t see you but you can see them?”

All the boys looked at each other - it’s what would have made the most sense. Most of them failed to see the outline of a door in one of the walls that surrounded them until KK pointed it out.

“Should we open it?”

“No.” Andrei said, sternly. “He stated in the text to not touch anything unless specified.”. “Man, what did we get ourselves into?”

“A show, boys.” Andrei added, nodding at the door in the bedroom opening.

Heart beating, they all took a seat.

Burnzie entered, wearing a suit. All of the guys were very used to seeing him, in his over-the-top, almost ridiculous, custom-made suits. But this one was different. He had on a simple black suit, neck framed by a dark gray tie. They had never seen him with his hair slicked back, or with the trim on his beard that he was sporting tonight.

Their teammate placed his hands on his hips, standing in front of the fire. Slowly, he took off his shoes, tie, and belt, and set them on top of the dresser. As he unbuckled his cufflinks, he finally looked up at the window, giving a small nod. The boys had been acknowledged.

“I’m not sure who’s here and who’s not.” he started. “I hope you guys remembered the rules. The maximum number of you in there should be 12. No women allowed. No one from outside of the team, not today at least. “ he sighed, placing the links on a small tray that sat on the right nightstand, the one closest to the viewers.

“You are all free to leave at any point tonight, from the same door where you came in. Once we are done, that’s where I expect you to exit. If you linger on any point of the property, be aware that I will know.” he continued, rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, and looking directly at them.

“We are not able to see you from here. You can obviously tell by now that you can see every single corner of this room. Additionally, we cannot hear you either. Do with that information as you will. If I require participation, I will ask. That is the only time when you can touch that small door to your left, where you will come in here with us. Do not touch it unless I ask you to. Do not do anything in there that my staff will not be able to clean up. And most importantly, do not take any pictures or videos. Do not talk about this with anyone else. I have all of your phones, counted and safe with me, and they will be given back at your exit.”

Burnzie was now standing directly in front of the window. Somehow, the boys felt as if he could really see them.

“Do not disappoint me, boys. This is a rare chance you are getting tonight.”

He looked down and headed towards the door in the bedroom, adding before disappearing behind it:

“Watch and learn.”

All of the guys looked at each other. A mix of nerves, tentativeness, and excitement filled the room. Neci sat in the front row, palms rubbing together, while Dylan shook his back from the row behind him. The two young Russian players, Andrei and Pyotr, found a place right in the middle, next to Martin, and were raising their eyebrows at each other. Collectively nervous, some showing more than others. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Moments later, Brent walked in, accompanied by a young girl.

You.

“Holy shit, this is really happening.” Teuvo whispered from the back row.

They all leaned forward in their seats to study your face. To their surprise, as their older teammate moved from view, they saw you were blindfolded, with absolutely no clothes on.

Brent guided you to the edge of the bed. You could feel his presence standing in front of you.

“Do you know where we are, little one?” he asked.

“Um, in the room. The room.” you said, clammy hands placed on your lap.

“That's right. How did you know?”

“The crackling of the fire. It sounds different in a room with no windows. I could feel the wood floor when we came in, too” you added.

“Good job, baby. So attentive, aren’t you?” he coaxed, running a hand down your hair. He had gotten closer, heat emerging off of his frame towering over you.

You bit your lip and nodded slowly, his tone already making a puddle form on the sheets under your naked body.

Brent’s hands moved along behind your head, your senses firing extra due to the blindfold. You felt his fingers untie the knot and saw him coming into vision, eyelashes batting at him as soon as you were freed. Brent kissed your forehead and kneeled in front of you, taking his lips to your right ear.

“Do you remember why tonight is special, baby? Why is tonight a little different than usual?” he whispered. Your head snapped towards the dark glass placed on the wall to your left, heart beating faster already.

“Yeah, we have some viewers today. That’s still okay, baby?” he asked, tilting your chin back at him. You nodded, doing your best at hiding the trembling in your body.

“I need to hear you say it. We don’t have to if you don't want to, doll.” he said, unsmiling.

“I want to.”

Brent stood up in front of you once again, beginning to undo his dress shirt.

“Can you remind me of our color system, little one?” he proceeded, voice stronger than before. It must have been for whoever was watching.

“Yes, um, r-”

“Louder, baby.”

“Uh, red, yellow, and green. Stop, slow down, and go.” you gulped, raising your voice shily.

“You’re so good, love. Very good.” he said, caressing your cheek with his knuckles, now shirtless. Brent walked over to the left side of the bed, facing the window, and sat down.

“C’mere.”

You waltzed over to him, where he turned you around and sat you on his lap, facing his same direction. The idea of someone sitting behind there, watching you, was incredibly nerve-racking, and you knew Brent could sense this. He knew you inside and out.

“They’re watching, yeah. Right there, right in front of us, look.” he said, beard tickling your shoulder as he spoke.

“My baby, come. Don’t worry.” he whispered when he turned you around, his lips suddenly colliding with yours. Brent grabbed the sides of your face, intertwined his fingers in your hair, and split open your mouth with his tongue. The contact and dance you were having in your mouth seemed to ease your jitters.

“They’re so lucky to see Daddy treat you like this, right?” he asked, pulling away for a split second, before attacking your mouth once again. “Yeah? So lucky, right?” he questioned you, in between sloppy kisses. You nodded your head as he overtook you completely, swapping spit with you.

“We’re going to teach them a thing or two today, okay?”. Brent looked deeply into your eyes. As much as you contractually, verbally, and constantly gave consent, he had never, not once, stopped looking for it in you.

“Okay.” you whispered, joining your lips again with him.

Brent took the chance to pick you up, not breaking your kiss, and moved over to the corner of the bed. You were now at the closest point to the window, where they could see you and him perfectly. They had a chance to see most angles, light reflecting perfectly off of you.

Brent’s hands moved over to your thighs, easily splitting them apart and sitting you on his legs, face to face with him.

“You sit on my thighs so well for me, baby. Grind on them.” he said, as you uncertainly started moving your hips, peering over to the window. You knew that you couldn’t see who was there, but you were simply not able to shake the feeling off of you.

“Keep staring at me, baby. Only me.” he turned your face back to his with a slight tuck at your cheek.

“I want you to kiss Daddy’s cheeks as you grind on me, baby. I know you like it, c'mon.” he said, placing his hands on your hips. “C’mon my love, my princess.”

The coaxing always got you going, starting to grind your hips a little faster while kissing his face.

“Good girl. Focus on me, little one, c’mon.”. The friction of his suit pants against your bare cunt was starting to feel incredibly delightful, inching your body closer to his as you moved faster. One of Brent’s hands quickly came up and spanked your ass, pulling a moan out of you, which just invited him to smack you twice more. The more he encouraged you, the harder he spanked you, and the whinier your moans were becoming.

“Shh, shh, that’s a good girl, right there. I know it’s sensitive, little one, I know. You’re doing so well for me.” he said, calloused hand spanking your sore spot once more. “Do you see what you do to me? Do you see my cock growing for you?”

You could only moan. You had just started and already felt like falling apart right in front of him.

Meanwhile, things were getting a bit stuffier in the viewing room. The boys were no longer looking or interacting with each other, eyes peeled on the couple in front of them. Even the cockiest of them, the ones that had talked themselves up the most, had fallen silent, faces completely flushed. Many of them felt grateful that the chairs had been placed at a distance from each other, giving them more private space. They were incredibly close and comfortable with each other normally, having spent a lot of time changing and naked; they were able to play and joke around it usually, with no awkwardness found there. But this was wholly different. Pyotr adjusted his hat and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, as many of them were already.

“Ебена мать…”

“Do you want to touch it, baby?” Brent asked, looking at you, vigorously rubbing yourself on him.

“Yes, please.”

“Do you see how good you make me feel, doll? Can you feel it, in your little hands?”

“Do my thighs make you feel good too? My pants are soaked already, angel. Do my big thighs make you quiver and moan? You look so little when you sit on me like this, pretty girl. Does that turn you on?” Brent’s words felt like lightning shooting down your nervous system.

“Yes, god, yes.” you huffed, placing your forehead on his tattooed shoulder.

“Uh-uh, baby, focus on me. There you go, look up at me. Are you falling apart for me, already, my little flower?”

Only moans came out as a response. Your breath was so shallow that you could think of no words. None.

“Not yet, baby, slow down. Shh, shh. Relax, my little girl, calm down.” he tightened his grip on your hips, changing the pace.

“Make my thighs wetter, baby. Stay on my face, princess. I know, I know, baby, I bet it feels really good.”

You looked deeply into his gaze, dark and lusting for you, and took a deep breath.

“Look at that, look how good you’re being. You do exactly what Daddy tells you, don’t you?”

“I do, Daddy.”

“Tell them. Say it out loud, tell them.”

“I-, I do whatever Daddy tells me.” you choked out in between whimpers, face burning red.

“And why is that, baby?”

“Because I trust you, Daddy.” you said, gaze shooting up at him.

“Good girl, baby, good girl. You know Daddy will take care of you. Stick out your tongue, angel.”

You did as told, your connection somehow reinforced after that exchange.

Brent gave you a small smirk, and wiped his tongue against yours, feverishly, before wrapping it up in his mouth.

“Faster, now baby, faster. Show me how good I can make you feel.” Brent said, before attaching his lips to your neck, leaving the other side exposed for the guys to see. You picked up the pace again, the little break he gave you before just aiding to you edging, on the brink of falling apart.

“Spread your legs, my dirty girl. Let me play with you.” he said, lips still touching the side of your neck.

You took more deep breaths as you tried to keep it together. When you moved, you could see the wet patch left on his pants. He helped you move, legs shaking, and set up enough pillows at the end of the bed to prop you up, your wet cunt open wide and showing to all the guys behind the glass.

“Lay down, princess. Right there, just like that.” Brent bent down in front of the bed, face dangerously close to your pussy.

“Oh, you’re such a mess. So pretty for us, baby.” His fingers dipped inside you just before circling your clit, causing your head to fall back into the mountain of pillows. It was hard to hold it together, unable to stop shaking or keep your knees from collapsing in. Brent stood up, thrusting his fingers deep inside you.

“Can you hold it in for me, baby? You’re not getting too ahead of yourself, are you?”

“A little.”

“Let’s slow down, maybe, flower. Open your mouth for me. Show me your tongue again.” Brent’s soaked fingers grabbed your chin sternly, right before spitting on your tongue twice.

He proceeded to dip his other hand right in your mouth, spreading his spit all over you.

“That’s so good, look at you. Let’s keep going, little one.” As he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, a trail of saliva fell from his digits and left a string on your body; his hand was back inside you as soon as it was gone, eliciting more and more moans from you.

“God, he really wasn’t kidding.” Dylan whispered in the room, all eyes still diligently stuck on the couple on the bed.

“...Yeah.”. They did their best to hide how tight their pants were all getting but to no avail. It didn’t matter anyways - they had all signed up for this, and were all free to leave. Nonetheless, no one dared to move a muscle, too transfixed with the scene unfolding before them.

“Look at her pussy. Don’t stare at her face. Do whatever I tell you.” Brent’s voice changed from sweet to demanding, as he turned his head towards the glass to instruct the guys, who all followed commands, unknowingly to you, too blissed out to even worry.

His movements became quicker and more precise, knowing exactly where to touch you to make sure you twitched and squirmed.

“That’s right. You do so well by Daddy. I’m going to go faster now, baby. C’mon. I know, baby, I know, I know. Show them, my love. Show them how good my thick fingers make you feel. You’re so tiny I could just fuck you like this, my hands fill you up so well. Yeah?”

“Look at her, look at her, boys. You see how good I’m making her feel? Print that in your fucking heads and try to do the same when you touch a girl. Every time you see anyone from now on, you’ll think about this, this right here, and how good I can make her feel, just come apart in my hands.”

“She’s fucking trembling.”

“I know.”

“Jesus.” they all cursed.

“Give it to me, baby, c’mon, princess. Yeah, that’s right. Like that, like that, oh, fuck.” You grabbed Brent’s shoulders as you shuddered, orgasm rippling through you while he tried to coax you through it, watching you closely from above you.

“Good job, baby, good job. You are so gorgeous, baby. You’re so sweet, so kind, so pretty. There you go, pretty baby.” he said, slowing down and rubbing your folds while you came down from your peak. “Do you need some water? Yeah?” he asked, placing a kiss on your forehead, his hand gently tapping your pussy.

“She wants water. Get her some. One person only. And do it fucking quickly.”

The guys all scrambled, sitting up and looking at each other since they first walked in. They had never seen each other in this state, sweaty and bodies flushed and swollen, ready for sex. There was absolutely no water in there. There was nothing. Neci, the closest to the exit, quickly left and came back, a victorious look on his face with a water bottle in his hand. Until he realized he needed to go in. He turned and gulped at the black door separating them from the couple, laying in bed, staring at the glass in front of them. Pyotr swore at that moment that Burnzie had lied about not being able to see or hear them.

“I said fucking fast!” he raised his voice, leading Neci to swiftly turn the handle and walk into the room. As he came towards you, still heavy breathing and wide open in front of him, he thought he might fall or just cream his pants.

“Don’t fucking look at her. Look at her feet while you give me the water.”

Martin did as told, and even if feet did absolutely nothing for him, he started to understand what Burnzie had meant in the locker room. Everything about this was so goddamn erotic. After handing over the water, and hearing a tiny “thank you” from you, Martin walked back and shut the door behind him, finding his chair fast and keeping his cap low, hoping the rest of the group wouldn’t chirp him. No one said anything. They all knew that could have been them going in there soon. Some were hoping, truly, to participate.

Brent tilted the water bottle back while holding it up to your mouth, whispering reassuring sweet nothings in your ear as you quenched your thirst.

“Color, baby?”

“Green.”

“Lovely, my girl. Take Daddy’s pants off.”

You sat on your knees, working the button of Brent’s pants, while he looked at you, with the sweetest smile, until his erection sprang free. It wasn’t your first time seeing him, but it never failed to get a gasp out of it. Brent was a big man, and he was big and thick everywhere. As you leaned down to wrap your tongue around the tip of his cock, you felt a gentle tug at the back of your head.

“So sweet, my angel, but I want you already. Come rub yourself all over Daddy’s cock.” he said, sitting up back at the corner of the bed, legs confidently planted on the floor.

“How bad do you want it, flower? You’ve been so good, waiting for me. All of those guys, they can’t satisfy you like I do, isn’t that right?” he looked up at you, while you were spreading your soaking folds up and down his shaft.

“No one else can, Daddy.”

“What a pretty, good girl you are, baby girl. C’mere, take me, princess.” he said, immensely satisfied with your response, and guiding you all the way down his cock, until you were flush together at the hips.

“Oh, oh, my god.”

“I know, baby. You can take me though, right?”

You nodded, hastily, as you began to bounce on him. He was so big you felt like he was splitting you in two, in the best, most pleasurable way possible. All you could do is moan, moan and moan. And whimper, head fully tilted back, as a tear slid down your cheek.

“My angel, are you tearing up? That’s okay, relax, my love. I got you. What’s your color, princess?”

“Green, green. It’s just so…, big.”

“I know, I know. You can tear up, that’s alright. I’m right here, my dove.”

You bit your lip, hard, and looked back at his face. He was in heaven, and not afraid to show it.

“You feel so fucking good, flower. You feel so amazing, so snug around me. No one makes me feel like this, princess. God, fuck. Look at me.”

Your eyes connected once again, Brent looking for …something in you.

“Can you take a little more for me, my sweet girl?”

“Yes, yes.” you said, not stopping your movements.

“Slow down, yeah, like that. Milk Daddy very slowly.” he planted a kiss on your cheek, right before grabbing your face and uniting your tongues once again.

“I need one person here. Just one. And let it be a new one. Fast.” Brent raised his voice, facing the glass.

All his teammates looked at each other once again, yet this time, Andrei was the only one to stand up.

“Must be your turn, brother. Good luck.” Sebastian uttered, from the back row.

Andrei looked around, slightly panicked. It sure seemed like it was going to be him. He took a deep breath before opening the connecting door, moving fast in order not to aggravate Burnzie. He walked in and simply couldn’t help but stare at you, fully naked with your eyes rolled back, grinding and bouncing steadily on his older teammate.

“Don’t you dare fucking look. Go over to the dresser.” Brent ordered.

The young Russian strode towards the dresser on the opposite end of the bedroom, eyes planted on his shoes.

“Middle drawer on the left. Tan rope. 1 ft. Bring it over.”

Andrei grabbed the rope out of the organized bunch, shut the drawer and walked back, heart beating out of his chest.

“Stand behind her. If you have to look, look at her feet. Hurry up.”

Andrei stood behind her, the only thing he could see apart from the bottom of your feet was his bulge, rock hard in his slacks.

“Can you do a double column tie?”

“Uh, no.”

“Fucking-, anyone else? You have 5 seconds to come out if you do.”

2,3,4,5. No one.

“Useless. Get close to her, I’ll tell you how to do it.” he said. “You keep grinding, my girl, you’re doing so well. Can you put your wrist behind your back for Daddy and his friend? Yeah? Good girl.”

Your small wrists appeared in Andrei’s field of vision, head diligently down. Andrei attempted at not getting distracted, but he was sure there were sweat beads emerging from his hairline. He followed all the instructions, which Brent made sure to explain as efficiently as possible.

“Fold it in half.”

“Now, turn it counterclockwise.”

“Put that piece over and under, and squeeze it. Make sure it’s not too tight, so we’re not hurting her.”

Before he realized it, her hands were securely bound behind her back. Andrei mentally patted himself on the back. He caught a glimpse of you, slowly crumbling on top of Brent. All of the guys could have walked in right now, and Andrei thought you would have not noticed nor cared. You were completely wrapped up in Brent.

“Can you be good, baby? Can you say, thank you, Andrei? For Daddy?”

Dazed and with your head resting on Brent’s shoulder, you moaned a thank you, which made Andrei’s knees buckle.

“Out of here now.”. Andrei walked back, shirt sticking to his back, into the room with the guys, who were all staring at him, jaws on the floor. Once again, no one said a word. Andrei honestly couldn’t wait to get to his car, but he was too curious to leave just yet.

“How does it feel, baby?” “Good. So good, yes.”

“You sound so amazing, my little dove. What’s my name, love? Tell them. Tell them.”

“Daddy. Your name’s Daddy.” you said, increasing your speed.

“Good girl, baby, good. You’ve been so good today I’m going to fill you up so nicely, flower.”

Brent’s calloused hands balanced you carefully as you kept fucking yourself on his cock, which was growing harder as the boys grew more impatient with every move.

“Squeeze, baby girl. Squeeze me tight. Cream all over me, fuck.” the air in both rooms was getting warmer, exponentially.

Your eyes locked for one last time before you crumbled all over him, juices running down Brent’s lap as you shook.

“See, boys? Look how beautiful. Shut up and listen to her, hear how incredible she feels. God, just looking at her is going to make me cum.” Brent fucked up into you and kept calling out for you as he shot his seed deep inside you, his big thighs tensing up under you. Little one, baby, angel, princess, love, flower… every single one rolling right off his tongue over and over, eyes fluttering.

The guys moved around more and more, uncomfortable in their chairs.

Brent quickly flipped you over, immediately untying your hands after you both caught your breath again. He held you tightly in his arms, rocking you back and forth, caressing your cheek, and placing kisses all over the marks on your wrists.

“You did so well. I’m so proud of you, angel. I’m always proud of you. My gorgeous princess.”

He kept going for a while, feeding you water, some candy from the nightstand, and enveloping your body fully. In the meantime, none of the guys could barely hold it together, all trying to see what was going to happen next, or waiting to speed home to have some private time.

“You guys are lucky I’m not making any of you come out here and lap up her juices. I’ll be nice today. Get the fuck out of here.” Brent said, lastly, before going back to paying full attention to you.

The chairs squeaked at how fast everyone sat up, exiting through the same door, retrieving their phones, and heading towards their cars, not one word was spoken. None of them could believe what had happened, what they had witnessed. There were no goodnights or goodbyes.

They all raced home, speeding into the night, a thousand memories already forming in their heads.

One thing they knew for sure. None of them were ever going to forget this night.

#brent burns #carolina hurricanes #smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl #andrei svechnikov #teuvo teräväinen #sebastian aho #seth jarvis #pyotr kochetkov #jesperi kotkaniemi #jalen chatfield #martin nečas #dylan coghlan #kikiwrites

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fountainpenguin · 3 months ago

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"I'll treat you nice; I'll be so kind! Just bring me all the food you find~ And I'll run this dump, 'cuz I'm the smartest here..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 39 - “Wednesday: Squall Hospital”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

Dog's Life is 1 year old today!

Mumbo wakes up in the hospital. Etho pays a visit to ask after a commission… wandering trader style. Also, the phantom hybrids strip down to flaunt their stuff. Get your sparring game on!

Impulse, who modded out of phantom state long ago, watches from the sidelines.

Dog's Life anniversary chapters, Part 1!

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

Brief #trafficshipping (Mumbo reflecting on his divorce with Martyn, which happened 100 years ago but Martyn only found out yesterday)

---

Mumbo

Location: Hospital, Southwest New Star, Bottom Floor

🖤 🌕 🖤

He couldn't tell you when he became aware of voices. On some level, they were there the whole time, even with memories playing across his eyes. Some he'd rather forget, full of escorts with diamonds for teeth waiting while his fumbling hands plugged his player file in a foreign server core, his heartbeats tangled, chilly breath on the back of his neck warning him that he only had minutes before he could expect his back thrust against a wall, fangs in his neck… Payment claimed for keeping a lone wandering trader safe another day out in the anarchy world.

Wake up, he warns himself, and dissolves to begging at the memory of his own anxious hands grabbing the shirts of a dozen anivores for support. Wake up. This isn't real. Get out!

Some hands had been a good deal gentler. That didn't always make them perfect. But Impulse had only been rough once. Vee almost too soft. BigB… Well, they didn't say much on the first and last trek they ever took together, even when collapsing into the same guest server and sharing a bed (with Vee, too) after a long, long day. Mumbo distinctly remembers the guy rolling over once, mumbling "Your turn," when the baby allays started fussing for their milk. It's laughable, looking back on it, although Mumbo had griped about it at the time. Hysterical. I can't believe I didn't crack up! BigB's underrated. He should let Grian know; make sure he remembers to appreciate what he has.

And Martyn… Martyn hadn't taken any adventures with him. But he'd roleplayed softly in their bed, letting Mumbo (For once, for once) take the lead.

He's lying on his back. Which isn't usual for him. Shapes and figures blur together. But he hears… words? Sounds like words. This is people-talk. He stirs without cracking open his eyes.

"Let's go," cheers a pleasant, pumped-up voice from somewhere to his right. A masculine voice. Big. Loud. One that's only familiar on the very fringes of his memory, like a frayed tassel on his llamas' blankets that he's always had, but only remembers when he's looking straight at it. Chair legs screech across the floor. Mumbo winces, screwing his eyelids tighter, but the mystery figure isn't one to be put off by silent rejection. "Welcome back to New Star! Boy, am I glad I decided to check in mentally for work today. What's this guy's name again? Oh, right, right. Well, we can cross 'Save patient' off our daily tasks. What's next?"

Oh, goodness… His eyeballs want to yawn. He tries it with his mouth, though it's… less satisfying than it probably would be on a server with actual sleep mechanics. Well, at least my head's no longer clicking. Fading images still dance across his mental comm screen, but they're swirling into smoke the more he shifts around, zoning back into the world. Mumbo blinks his eyes a few times, trying to make them stick. The face of a man with a black, neatly trimmed beard swims into view above him. Maybe a little too close.

"… I know you."

The man's face snaps from pleasant to shocked real fast. He bites one corner of his lip, leaning back in his chair. What? Mumbo's voice feels scratchy in his throat, even unspoken. Before he can get his next words out, the man's addressing another figure in the room somewhere out of sight. "Ohoooh… He knows me, and I had to check his file 4 times before I burned his name into memory. That's about to be real awkward. Hey- You know what? Accidents happen. That's life."

"Yeah, I know you," Mumbo mutters, mostly to himself. He lives across the hall from Martyn and Jimmy. Simmers' Quarter. Seen him around. He sort of hops all over the place. But the name escapes him. Mumbo should care about that. Should he care? A zing of guilt courses up his back at the thought of forgetting his ex-husband's immediate neighbor, but he breathes through his teeth instead of saying so.

… Okay. Take stock. Mm. If he can get his brain to drag itself awake from a sluggish, whimpery state, that is. Mumbo runs his fingers through sticky threads of mussed-up hair. His body doesn't ache, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not surprisingly; double regen is a killer. Well, the exact opposite of a killer. He braces his hand to the mattress, pushing himself to a sitting position. Mumbo brushes his fingers across his mustache. He goes to flip his F5 eyes on, but the shift makes him so dizzy, he pulls back and drops his face in his hands instead.

The bearded man scoots his chair closer to his bedside, all smiles and absentminded apologies. He double pats his chest. Thump-thump. "Hey, I'm James Turner- formerly known as The Sim Supply. Well, not over here… You kind of had to be there. And if anyone tells you I designed Vanillite, they've got the wrong guy. Ask your husband; he'll vouch for me."

"… Uh. Oh, goodness me." If he were in one of Martyn's mangas, he'd have slash lines across his face, flushing up a storm. Mumbo reaches for his hood. No robes. His hands clasp on empty air, so he pulls his blankets into his lap instead, squirming his hands between his legs. "Aha… I should probably come clean about that. Martyn and I aren't, um… sleeping together anymore."

Sleeping doesn't feel as hot and bitter on his tongue as married would. And it's the accurate word, even if it stings. It feels more correct than dating. They'd flirt and play and cuddle, usually with fingers in each other's clothes and hair, until they got all snuggled up and Mumbo (eventually) drifted off to sleep. Martyn left by dawn every morning, all his blond hairs despawned from the bed. Nocturnal phantom code. Warm. Soft. I… needed space. And I was leaving for a trip, and it was never really that serious anyway. Okay, that sounds bad out of context, but-

James' frown burns a scar in the crest of his head. "Uh. Dude? Does Martyn know?"

"It was 100 years ago!" He can hold his head high and proud on that, except he can't. "Did nobody get the memo?" And without a hood to tug over his face, he looks away, just biting the edge of his knuckle and gripping the hospital bedsheets with his hand. Wait. Why am I in hospital? Seriously, that memory just went out the window. Did he get flashbanged? Close range? He touches two fingers to his scalp. Sore…

"… Didn't I see your mouth all over him at the shower house on Friday?"

Ohh, don't remind me… Mumbo fumbles through a couple squeaks, then focuses on the more pertinent question. "Sorry; why am I here, exactly?" And why do I smell bacon?

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

#trafficfic #impulseSV #Mumbo Jumbo #BdoubleO100 #Martyn InTheLittleWood #clock duo #EthosLab #Dog's Life #Fun Fact: I always thought this would be a fun song to do a Life Series animatic for :) But this works too!#Dog's Life art #Dog's Life spoilers #ridspoilers #ridwriting #apparently art #GIFs #animation #AO3 #mcyt

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wordywarriorwrites · 2 years ago

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Calendar Girl: January

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwritesrwrites Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

January

“Don’t pull,” Joel instructed. “Just squeeze.”

Still unused to the kick and noise, you hesitated on the follow-through, and the first shot only winged the target. After he reminded you of your stance and hand placement, you aimed and fired again. The second bullet had been much closer to the mark, and the third better still.

After you popped off the remaining rounds, Joel complimented your progress, and gave you some additional tips on your handling and timing. You were a fast learner; he knew you’d only improve with time and practice, and after he’d reloaded and returned the gun to you, you went again, and hit the target five out of seven rounds.

“Ready to move onto something with a bit more firepower?” Joel asked as he dumped the shells.

“Go big or go home,” you laughed.

Ellie smiled and nudged your shoulder, “You going to be patrolling regularly?”

You shook your head, “I don’t think so. But I want to be ready to fill in - just in case.”

As you and Ellie chatted, Joel prepped his Mossberg 500. While he loaded, he wondered if you’d ever had to shoot your way out of a bad situation, if you’d ever needed to defend yourself in the ways Ellie had, or if you’d been forced to do other things - like some of the things he’d done - in order to survive.

He’d never bothered to ask if you’d taken out a clicker or killed a human being before - not that it would’ve mattered, or changed the way he felt about you. After all, he’d done more than his fair share of killing and had no right to judge anyone. Since the threat of violence always simmered just beneath the surface, knowing how to shoot was not only smart, it was a valuable, life-saving skill Joel thought everyone should learn.

Especially you.

“I like my knife,” Ellie stated as she showed it off. “Saved my ass many times, but after I learned how to shoot - well, I just feel safer now, you know?”

You made a noise of agreement, “I get it.”

He handed the shotgun over to Ellie, and after he advised you to cover your ears, she fired off a few. There was a significant difference between the Taurus Model 66 (his preferred weapon of choice) and a pump action. By having Ellie demonstrate, he hoped you’d feel more confident trying it, and be prepared to practice with and use a rifle in future. After Ellie emptied it, he took the shotgun apart, explained the innerworkings, and guided you through cleaning, reassembly, and loading.

By the time you finished putting it back together, it had gotten too dark to continue on with target practice, so, he called an end to the lesson for the day. After the weapons had been checked back in and secured in the town’s armory, the three of you left the makeshift shooting range, and walked to the mess hall for dinner. Ellie had been quick to ditch you both in favor of her friends, and after Joel followed you through the chow line for his serving of spaghetti and salad, he took a seat on the bench across from you at the table.

“So, you gonna tell me the real reason why you wanna learn how to shoot?” he asked.

You picked up your fork and knife, “I told you why.”

“I offered to teach you last year,” Joel replied as he rested his forearms on the table. “You refused - said you weren’t comfortable with it. What’s changed?”

While you looked down at your plate and stabbed at your leafy greens, he stared at you and willed you to speak. You’d been weird and standoffish since Christmas. In fact, Joel would go so far as to say you’d done a spectacular job of avoiding him almost entirely, and he’d grown tired of it.

“You gonna talk to me?” he prodded. “Or am I only your friend when you need somethin’?”

You jerked your head up. Slammed your fork down. Mirrored his posture. Gaze now completely direct and full of fire, you asked him when he learned and who’d taught him.

“I grew up in Texas. Was practically born with a rifle in my hand,” he shrugged. “Dad taught me when I turned seven, maybe eight. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I used to be a trust fund brat, remember? And the only thing my parents ever taught me was how to be seen and not heard,” you snapped back lowly. “So, when the world went to shit, what do you think happened to me and girls like me? Huh?”

Joel knew some things about your past, about your life from before. Over a few too many at the bar one night, you’d compared battle scars. Swapped some of the grittier war stories. Neither of you had gone too deep into the weeds, though, because the pain had been too raw, and you’d both wanted to think about other things. You told him you’d lost your entire family the first night, that you’d seen unimaginable horrors since then, but he’d hoped such horrors hadn’t been inflicted on you.

After a stretch of silence, you cleared your throat, and kicked up your chin, “I don’t want pity, alright? I just… It’s well past time I learned how to protect myself.”

He nodded, “Whatever you need.”

You sat up straighter and reached for your fork, “And I’m sorry for avoiding you. With everything that’s happened… Well, I’m an absolute shitshow and not really the best company right now.”

Joel tentatively reached out and placed a hand on your forearm, “Hey, there’s nothin’ to be sorry for. And I’d rather see the shitshow than have you lower the curtain on me.”

“You want to see the drama unfold?” you snorted.

He smirked. Squeezed gently. You sighed and placed your hand over his. Joel looked at you and you looked at him, and without saying a word, you understood each other. It just flowed between you, effortless and uncomplicated. Many things had been left unsaid, but it was as if you both knew those things didn’t need to be said all at once. Time was not guaranteed and life was even shorter and more precious, but there wasn’t any rush to rake up the past just yet.

Especially not when there was a present and a future to be considered.

“You got time tomorrow for another lesson?” Joel wondered.

You took a bite of salad and thought for a moment before you spoke, “Morning’s free.”

He twirled some spaghetti and brought it toward his mouth, “I’ll meet you at your place.”

Having aired it out, conversation flowed freer and supper went down easier. A half hour later, he checked in with Ellie, who was still in the thick of it with her friends. With a promise that she’d be home in an hour, Joel offered to walk you to your place, and you accepted.

“Listen, uh, do you have anything at home?” he wondered, eyes on the icy ground and hands shoved in deep in his pockets. “Something to protect yourself with?”

“Broken baseball bat,” you said as you yanked on your hat and sidestepped a snow mound. “And dull kitchen knives. Those count?”

Joel didn’t have it in him to tell you that they didn’t count for much. That when it came down to it, you’d probably only have one chance to hit or stab someone - especially if that someone was faster and bigger than you. And if you were taken by surprise, overpowered, or knocked out cold, those weapons could be taken from you and used against you. At least with a gun and decent aim, you’d stand a chance of either scaring a would-be attacker off or wounding them bad enough to get away.

“Why do you ask?” you prompted.

Joel glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were alone before he spoke again.

“I know it’s against town policy to keep firearms in our homes,” he voiced quietly. “But I have two hidden away. One is a nine-millimeter. You could handle it. And it’s yours - if you want it.”

You nodded, “I’ll take it.”

It wasn’t until your house came into view that you gently grabbed his elbow and pulled him to a stop. Snowflakes drifted, landed on the hood of your coat, and you practically vibrated with shivers. The icy wind aggravated his nose, and his fingers felt as if they’d gone numb, but he didn’t dare move - not with you so close, and especially not when you placed your mitten-covered hands on his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Night, Joel.”

Joel dipped his chin. Bid you goodnight as well. Watched you climb the stairs and go inside before he turned around and headed in the opposite direction.

He was warm all the way home.

Next Chapter: February

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou fan fic #tlou fan fiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic #wordywarriorwrites #calendar girl

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marsamoo · 7 months ago

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Ask and ye shall receive: why is "this is war" life series coded? 👀

First of all, thank you for asking me, I am literally in love with you now.

Second, massive info dump warning below the cut.

OK so!! First of all, the song slaps. The actual music itself is such a vibe. It's kind of that weird space between positive and negative - like, "we're going to die, so fuck it". Like you're on a battlefield, about to charge in and fight for your life, and you're probably going to die, but the adrenaline is pumping and you're surrounded by people you know, so why not charge in with everything you've got?

The lyrics themselves as well!! I feel like they work quite well with secret life.

It's very secret life to me, because that's the season that feels the most chill. Like, it doesn't have the same horrors of war as 3rd life or last life. The players aren't clawing each other apart, fighting to stay afloat. They know they're going to die, but they don't care. It's like...a mix of nihilism and optimism.

Leader = Gem (she led the zombie apocalypse and the quest to the end)

"The liar, the honest" works with the dynamic of secret tasks in secret life. Are they two different groups of people, or are they the same? Liars to some will be honest to others, and vice versa. Who can you trust?

Pariah = Pearl (Pariah means outcast, calling back to Pearl's double life thing), but it could also be Scar, because they're two sides of the same coin

Victor = Scar (the winner of secret life - but did he really win?

Messiah = could fit anyone related to the canary curse, but if you want to get watcher lore-y, I could also link it to the secret keeper

Nothing is certain. Is it a truth or a lie? Are going to live or die? Will your allies betray you? Will you make it through the night? No one knows! The only thing that's certain is that you're going to fight to the death, so get ready.

This (to me) feels like a moment of hopefulness. It's the mid-game daydream when things are still peaceful and the death part of death game doesn't feel real yet. It's the hopeful "maybe things will be ok. Maybe we can just stay paused in this moment forever and no-one has to die."

It's the promises, the wishful thinking, the 'I won't forget you's, the 'we'll be okay's, the 'maybe one of us will win'. The little white lies that you know aren't true, but you say them anyway because you want to believe it.

But time marches on and tensions rise (symbolised by the "moment of truth, moment to lie" motif echoing in the back) until doomsday arrives and then it's too late to care about your little wishes because someone is running at you with an axe.

TLDR: The music invokes such in me, and it really gets that "we're going to die, but I don't go care" vibe that's somewhere between nihilism and optimism. I really associate it with secret life because of the lyrics, but also because that (to me) is the season where the horrors of a death game are felt much less. It's no longer fear, just...acceptance and resignation.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk and listen to this goddamn song please :)))

#trafficblr #secret life smp #this is war - thirty seconds to Mars #song analysis #I literally spent all day typing this up

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demigod-of-the-agni · 1 year ago

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walks in with a coffee. hey what’s up I’m a little obsessed with your bromantic flight au and yr mind. if Kai forged Lloyd a new arm cause he kinda accidentally caused it to get yeeted, does it also work with his dragon form or not? Like, when he transforms, can the arm change like a transformer to be the appropriate dragon-shaped limb it’s meant to be?

Jk but in essence!! yes!!! The prosthetic can change configurations depending on what form Lloyd takes, thanks to both Kai's intricate mental-smithing skills and Lloyd's dragon/oni magic. Considering reaching the "ideal arm" is a major plot point I took my sweet time in trying to map out how to best create the perfect prosthetic for a guy like Lloyd. (Warning: I go full-bananas and lore dump on you).

Like, I think the best thing to come out of this is how similar the upper anatomy for humans and dragons are, even in terms of evolutionary development. Oni anatomy comes super close, being one of the only other creatures in the First Realm to walk upright bipedally. Considering that human and dragon-oni hybrids have the same origin, it makes sense that their physiologies are practically the same... if only with minor differences.

The general consensus is that no, you can't regrew limbs unless you're a lizard.

The best that you can do is adapt around the missing limb, but functionality will not be 100%. You can bring it up to 99% and have it mimic real life but it won't quite be a real arm or a real leg carrying every single movement the original limb could once do, but that's fine. The point of the prosthetic is to restore as much functionality as physically possible to the amputee. But it's going to need a lot more consideration when you apply that to a hybrid, which is why we go through like a million iterations of that limb.

If the quote "a downed dragon is a dead dragon" rings any bells, then it definitely applies to the hybrids. Cut off a dragon's wings and tails and you've basically grounded the thing; not even elemental essences can save it. But cut off the limbs of a hybrid, a wingless creature born to channel elemental essences through its limbs, and you've basically won. Jeopardising even one limb is enough to drastically lower all of their capabilities. So. Yes. Missing limbs are bad for the hybrids.

So Lloyd very much needs that prosthetic to survive. Lucky we have Kai to develop one for him!

(It takes him months. obviously.)

Kai develops something he calls the "self-regulatory piston". Well, not really. The dragon hunters have been using this piece of tech for quite some to help with developing prosthetics for amputees. Kai just upgraded it- big time. How it works is that it channels biological electrical/mechanical energy to work - the pistons function as replacements for tendons, ligaments and muscles by contracting and pumping out energy in exchange for movement. Since humans are tiny things, the pistons can make these prosthetics function like real limbs. However the same can't be said for Lloyd.

Kai can get the prosthetic attached to Lloyd. He can get it undergo transformation to match dragon-Lloyd's size. The thing is that the prosthetic becomes a dead weight. All those fine pistons and engineering marvels in the prosthetics? They don't match up quite nicely when scaled up. They certainly are not able to channel Lloyd's dragon-oni magic to make it work. And we know hybrids are hindered by limb loss since they can't fly. So Kai has to climb up and manually move the limb himself, in order to give Lloyd a fighting chance at flight.

TLDR: yes, Kai makes Lloyd a new arm. Yes the prosthetic gets scaled up to match dragon-Lloyd's size, it just loses functionality when the size increases.

i don't know if i explained that clearly so if you wants to ask more questions please do. many hugs

#sorry for taking so long anon ive been busy and had some thoughts and just. yeh.#bromantic flight #ninjago au #kai smith #lloyd garmadon #kai jiang #ninjago #prosthetics #lore stuff #or at least. my attempt to justify the fictional prosthetic limb #agni of wisdom

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ironheartedfae · 1 year ago

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Timing: Some time in the last week or so Location: The Commons Feat: @vanoincidence & @ironheartedfae Warnings: Parental Death tw (mention) Summary: Van sees Ren in the wild and rushes over to have a chat, it's actually very soft! (if a bit rocky at first)

Van twisted the cord of her earbuds around her index finger, tugging at them gently to pull them from her ears. They fell into her lap and she quickly wrapped them around her phone before shoving the device into the front pocket of her too-baggy jeans. It’d been by chance that she had even looked up to see Ren. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, despite having no reason to be afraid. Maybe there was a reason. She had watched Ren carry the body from the– no, she wouldn’t think about that. She had no reason to be afraid of Ren, or any of the rest of them. They all carried the weight of the atrocity they had committed. Ren could be trusted. Van had to believe that.

She walked quickly from the bench she’d been sitting at to where Ren was making her way across the saturated field. Children wove around her, spools of thread spinning from their hands as their giant butterfly and dragon kites floated towards the sky. Their joyous cries wouldn’t have been so grating if Van weren’t on a literal mission. She hated running– detested it, actually, and the idea of having to run to catch up with Ren was so embarrassing that she might have turned around if it hadn’t been for Ren suddenly stopping. “Ren!” Van shouted after the girl as she steered around another child with a kite that looked like a poor attempt at a fish. “Hey– Ren! Over here!”

–

Where did a person begin and a soldier end? Questions like this one had been worming their way into Ren’s head more and more. Slowly overtaking just about everything else. Superseding the driven organized mission she’d been so sure of until that night. The days after the incident had been a special flavor of harrowing, and yet– Ren didn’t know what to do with herself. Her time had been split. Going back to the dump and working on her files, her job as it were, and allowing herself to take Emilio up on his offer. The couch was comfier than anything she’d ever slept on before, and it was far too soft for her liking, but… Sometimes she’d wake up to Perro curled in the space between her and the front of the cushion. His little body rising and falling with little puppy snores. Feet wiggling as he dreamed. And that was…nice.

Nice enough that she had gone back. That she was on her way back again. The way was long, but it wasn’t like Ren wasn’t used to a bit of exercise. It was the racing thoughts she was having trouble keeping up with. Memories of that night, flashes of the other girl’s faces in the crowds around her. Though her posture may have been near perfect, the nymph’s hands fiddled with each other in front of her. Picking at the skin around her nails. There wasn’t much left to begin with. Her eyes tried to avoid the ghostly gazes, Nora, Thea, Van, Cass, each of them staring through her. Judging every move in a way they hadn’t in real life.

To the left Cass stood behind a park bench, calling out to her as if the other nymph had been the one to lure her there. As if the other fae had been the reason for her bad decisions and— no. No it wasn’t Cass. And it wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t anyones– Then there was Nora. Swift, decisive. The Killing blow. She’d known so clearly that she had to protect her friends. The message that Emilio tried to impart, it was you or them. Nora had decided that Debbie wasn’t taking any of the allgoods away from her. Though they hadn’t earned the moniker just yet. Thea’s eulogy still played, the would haves and could haves– Bouncing around Ren’s skull like a pinball machine. Each possibly somehow causing more pain than the knife Debbie had put into Ren’s side. Was she as justified as Ren had originally thought? Was she as deserving of the tears they had all shed for her?

And Van… Her shadow somehow much more physical than the rest. So much more present. Wait– Wait no that– Ren stopped in her tracks, waited as the shade drew closer until it spoke. Out loud and clear as a bell. Calling her name. Ren’s whole face immediately reddened, her ears felt like they were burning. She shouldn’t have been embarrassed but something about being named in front of so many strangers put her on edge. Ren made no move to close the distance, frozen still by the shock that had pulled her from her delusions. Why was she here? Why was Van trying to talk to her? Was Ren in trouble? Had she somehow fucked up, again, again, again?

“What?” Harshly toned and bitter. Just like the fae herself.

—

Realistically, Van wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected from her interaction with Ren. Even at the grocery store, she didn’t seem all that inclined to get involved. They’d all been forced to interact in some way, even though Van had had every intention of leaving and heading home with her small grocery haul. The words that Ren had spoken over the pit rang in Van’s head as she looked at her now. She felt the wound on her stomach. She had stared at it in the mirror for plenty of hours, not understanding how something like that could have happened to somebody like her, but decided that at the end of the day, it was clearly karma. They all shared the same scar, now, and always would. Nobody had to be happy about it, but that was their reality.

Ren’s reaction to her made Van recoil. The taste of copper flattened over her tongue and the base of her throat began to feel numb and cold, all at the same time. Tears of embarrassment pricked her eyes and she took a step back. This was the same Ren she had met in the grocery store, and the same Ren that had carried Debbie up the hill to the pit, so why was she so surprised? Why did Van think that they would suddenly have a connection? They shared a wound, but it didn’t mean that they were caring for it together. Ren had left almost immediately after they’d arrived at Van’s house. Ren hadn’t wanted to be there, and it was clear that Ren didn’t want Van in front of her now.

“I–” Van stumbled slightly as a kid ran into her side and she winced at the sudden movement, as if it might piss off Ren even more. “Sorry. I saw you, and I haven’t seen you since– well, in a while, and I’m glad to see that you’re doing okay.” Were any of them doing okay? No, not really, but she was alive, which was all that any of them could hope for at this point.

—

Maybe Ren just wasn’t built for this kind of thing. Like reactive elements, exposed explosively ending in something far more volatile than what you had to begin with. Incompatible. A breath had stopped midway out of the fae’s lungs, caught by the lump in her throat that kept her mouth parted slightly. To her, it was an involuntary expression of nausea, to anyone else it might have looked like disgust. To anyone else it would look like it was aimed at the other girl who only came up to chat. It wasn’t Van’s fault that Ren didn’t know how to act. Wasn’t the girl’s fault Ren despised being seen. Being known.

Worse still, her eyes. Ren had a terrible habit of never blinking. It didn’t come naturally to a predator like her. Mantises didn’t need to blink, nor really could they. Her human disguise thankfully masked that particular oddness, most of the time. But now? Wide eyed and wildly staring at Van, charting every miniscule movement with subtle dashes and flicks of her iris. It certainly didn’t help paint the scene as anything good.

“You–” The word stumbled out of Ren’s mouth, unsure, unsavory. “Also appear like you have not died.” Days like this English felt so heavy on her tongue. So clunky, so obtuse. It wasn’t like she was the poet Laureate in Russian or Swedish, but she could at least sound like she knew what she meant. Uneasy as she was, a strange sense of comfort had come with seeing Van in the flesh. She was… kinder than her shade. Than the version of her that lived in and mocked Ren’s mind. “This is good. Yes?”

—

Van wasn’t sure why she was hopeful. Any normal person would have distanced themselves from the chaos that they had created. Any normal person would have gone to the police and turned themselves in, but Van had a history of leaving bodies behind, and even if Diana’s hadn’t ever shown up, there was very little distance between herself and Debbie’s back at the pit. She didn’t want to need any of the girls who shared the trauma; she was better at being alone, but that wasn’t the way things had fallen into place.

It was unfamiliar, having others to rely on. Maybe rely was too strong a word, but Van was still navigating what it meant when four others shared the same scar; both physically and emotionally. With Diana, and the way her bad luck had followed her out of Wicked’s Rest, that’d been on her and her alone. There’d been no explanation, and really, even to this day, Van wasn’t entirely sure what she’d seen or if it was real. Diana had to have been real, there was no way she wasn’t, but it still didn’t explain how one moment she was there, and the next she was falling backwards into a physical manifestation of their argument. That she was gone as soon as Van had screamed for her. She could still feel the way the asphalt felt on her knees.

She wished the gravel would swallow her whole, now, because it was clear Ren did not experience the same togetherness that she did. Van blinked at Ren, ignorant to the way that they remained unblinking. She was still too embarrassed and ashamed by the other girl’s first response towards her that it was hard to focus on anything but the dull pain that had begun to bloom in her chest. “I… no, I didn’t.” Her tongue pressed up against the roof of her mouth as she tried to figure out what else to say. Would that be the end of their conversation? Would they go their separate ways, only for Van to run into her later and to experience the same rotation of emotions? At Ren’s non-question, Van nodded quickly. “I think it is.” Despite not understanding why she deserved to be, she was glad she wasn’t dead, all things considered. Van looked around before her gaze gradually met Ren’s again. “You’ve been… alive, or… alright? We watched a movie after you and Nora both left. It would have been… um– we might do it again soon, if you want to join?” She wanted to push the earlier feeling of humiliation out. She could do this. She and Ren shared something now, whether or not Ren wanted to. They all did.

—

Distractions were just about everywhere out in the open like this. Every few seconds Ren’s head would twitch, her eyes would dart this way and that. Making sure to keep tabs on every moving piece on the playing field. That was how you stayed safe. Stayed alive. This posture that Van had adopted was not at all something that would help with defense, or even fleeing if that was more her course of action. Though, with the way the other had thrown that gnome, (the sudden krra-aackk and splintering of ceramic against Debbie’s back, the way pieces of it stuck in while others clattered to the linoleum below, the way that had likely been the only thing to get the warden off the nymph, and how they weren’t sure to reconcile with that) would suggest otherwise.

“Alive, yes.” A long pause. With her head still on a swivel, Ren tried her best to listen carefully. Consideration. Concentration. Each at odds with the other. There was just too much to pay attention to. “I–” A child brushed past both of them, a bit too close for comfort and far too close with the kite that trailed behind the youngling. It nearly hit Van, would have if not for Ren’s quick arm. Batting the thing down and into the ground like a cat smacking a moth. Which of course, the kid was not too happy about. The bout of screaming and crying was something Ren would have been punished for. The outside world, she was learning, was so much different. So much softer. She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse. Only that she didn’t belong to it.

Sheepishly, the nymph’s gaze returned to Van. “I apologize, may we continue this elsewhere?” It was the only way they’d actually be able to speak unfettered. Or maybe at all. At this rate Ren felt more like a shipwreck than a person.

—

Van looked at the kite as it sank to the ground. The child screamed, running towards who was probably his mom. Van barely paid attention to it, she would have done the same thing if her reflexes were good enough. Instead, she stood across from Ren in a way that made it clear she had no idea what to do with her hands. How did you talk to somebody who helped you cover up a murder? Who had nearly died beneath the blade that you personally thwarted. Maybe you didn’t. Or maybe you did, but not like this.

“Oh, um..” She looked over her shoulder at the kid who was pointing towards the two of them, his head thrown back in desperation to be believed. Van nodded at Ren and led the way towards a bench that was situated on the opposite side, a few trees covering the view from where they’d come from. Maybe the mom would be mad at the kid instead of them; or else be in disbelief that her child could do anything wrong. It was probably for the best that they peaced out.

“About the movie night.” Van wasn’t sure what possessed her to try again, but she wanted to make an effort. Maybe Ren didn’t feel like she deserved to be a part of such things. Van knew that she didn’t, and maybe the only reason that the others had gone home with her at all was because she lived alone and there’d be nobody to watch them scrub the blood from beneath their fingernails.

—

The shade and protection the trees offered Ren a comfort that visibly de-stressed her. Her shoulders eased from a position ready to strike to one of almost relaxation. Her hands sat in her lap, strategically picking at the dirt beneath her fingernails. Trying her best not to think of the blood that had sat in the very same spot, and how she hadn’t stayed with the other girls long enough to take care of it together.

Flighty, they must have thought. Strange, off-putting, unnatural. Ren had no concept of how to tell the difference between young adults harrowed by trauma and the derision of young wardens who hated Ren simply because of what she was. Because to them, she was a parasite in the family. Taking up their matriarch’s time and energy, taking their food, their weapons, all for what? To be a worse warden who could sneak into an Aos Si a little easier? To them Ren was getting special attention. And that was enough to earn their hatred. The few times that the nymph was able to train with them, every uncomfortable stare was because she had been the one to do something wrong. It was because they disliked her. Wanted her gone.

The Allgoods? Well, why would they be different?

“Movie night.” Ren repeated. Unsure of what exactly a movie was. She tossed the word around in her mind a few times. Looking at it from this way and that. Deciding it must mean they were moving something around in the house. And that the others had helped Van with it. “Do… you need more redecoration?”

—

Van knew that she was better at interacting with others while doing so online. Doing anything in person had an entirely different set of rules. In person, she had to watch both her facial expressions and her tone. Growing up, she’d been told to stop rolling her eyes more times than she cared to count. It wasn’t her fault that sometimes, people were dumb. This wasn’t one of those moments, even if Ren’s question confused her.

“Redecoration? Why–” Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion as she looked at Ren. Now, Van could really see her. It felt weird, seeing somebody as someone else after you’d gotten to speak to them multiple times. Maybe it hadn’t been multiple, but Ren looked a lot different without fear etched into her features. She looked a lot different, not covered in blood, too. It occurred to her, then, what Ren had thought she meant.

“Movies, like on… the t.v.” She hesitated, not wanting Ren to feel dumb for her question. English wasn’t her first language, so it made sense that she might get the meaning confused. Van cleared her throat. “We’re going to get together to watch something, like the Avengers.” It was the first movie she thought of, mostly because of Cass who had mentioned loving superhero movies. “Or Into the Spiderverse.” That was a better one. “Or something else! If there’s something you like better.”

—

“Oh.” Ren’s demeanor shifted again. Moving things was easier to parse. Easier for her to participate in. That’s… that’s what the taller girl was asking for, right? Or was she just explaining her plans with the others? But she… asked for Ren’s opinion? It had the nymph’s mind stalling. Searching for an implied meaning that they couldn’t quite catch onto. This whole conversing thing always left her feeling like she was hanging off the side of a cliff. Like blistered fingertips clutching slick rocks was all that was between her and total disaster.

She did not know what the Avengers were. Nor did she know what a Spiderverse could be, though admittedly whatever it was sounded more interesting. As much as Ren hated herself for what she was, she still could appreciate the creatures she had an affinity towards. All bugs, not just the mantids, praying or otherwise. People, however, usually didn’t share this affection. So why an entire verse full of spiders was on the girls’ list of potential ‘movies’ to watch, Ren couldn’t say. “The second one.” She nodded. As if she knew what was going on. “That is the one you should all watch.”

—

Van knew what it could feel like, being waited on for answers that you weren’t sure of. She waited patiently for Ren to work through her answer, and was surprised to hear that she seemed more interested in Into the Spiderverse. At least she had good taste, even if judging by her facial expression, it didn’t seem like she really knew what the movie was about. Van hesitated again.

“You should watch too, though. Not just us.” She knew what isolation felt like; she’d done it all her life. She knew what it felt like, to put yourself into a corner and refuse to move from it for the expense of others, but Cass seemed like she really wanted to hang out, and Thea seemed enthusiastic, too. Van was not entirely sure how she’d become the inbetween of all this, but for once, it came easy to her. Maybe it had been years of being alone that pushed her forward, or maybe it was the fear that something else bad would happen. “If you want. No pressure.” But Van wanted to apply the pressure, she wanted Ren to hang out with them, because if she did, it meant that by getting to know one another, maybe nobody would snitch. Maybe they would see what there was to lose.

—

The invitation was surprising, but not entirely unwelcome. That was the shocking part. Ren had spent so much of her life alone, she told herself it didn't reach her. She was an island. That it was okay. It was safer for everyone involved. But the more people she met, the more folks talked to her, the more she found herself craving it. It was stupid. Wanting companionship like she was some sort of toddler, like she wasn't self sufficient and strong enough to stand on her own. What would Darya think?

The distance between Ren and her adoptive mother had not made her heart grow fonder, just more confused. Maybe the Warden didn't expect her experiment to amount to much. Maybe she assumed the isolated nymph would continue to be just that. Never seeking out normal interactions outside of her mission. If she had, she might have taught the girl about movies, about elevators, about friends. But a weapon doesn't need friends. The old woman never considered it. In the same way she probably never considered that Ren could be a real person, with needs other than food, water and fresh air.

"I– think I would appreciate this." It was almost a shame to admit. Ren's ears reddened as she looked away. Keeping her gaze anywhere but on Van. If she lingered, if she let the other see, maybe Van would realize that Ren wasn't real. That she was just hollow. A very well trained monster.

—

Van’s eyes lit up as Ren accepted the invitation. “Really?” Van was excited that Ren had decided to give in. Until the girls showed up after the night with Debbie, Van hadn’t had anyone over for anything. Her grandmother had been the last person inside of the house, other than herself. When Thea and Cass had stayed the night of Debbie’s death, Van hadn’t really been able to focus on the way having them there made her feel, she’d been too distraught by the night’s earlier events. She wanted so badly to fall into some kind of familiarity, because for once, she wouldn’t have to drown in the feeling of what she’d done alone. There were others who had experienced it, too, and even if a lot of it had to do with making sure they wouldn’t turn around and tell what happened to the nearest person, Van wanted to believe there was something else there.

“Cool! Well, I’ll let you know when we decide to watch it?” She smiled at Ren, oblivious to the other girl’s embarrassment. Van knew that this would mean she’d need to go home and clean. Gross. “Are there any kind of snacks you like? I work at a pizza place, so I’ve got that covered.” She paused. “As long as Janice doesn’t fuck something up.” She shouldn’t really be spending money, but if it meant getting other people to trust, or even like her, she’d go into debt for it. Especially Ren, who seemed extremely reserved.

—

“You have number, yes? From… large–” Confusing “–text…group. From Nora?” That old broken and aching light lit up in Ren’s chest again. So different than the anger or emptiness she often felt. Fluttery, hopeful. Caged by the guilt that it inspired. To do this was against the instructions she’d been given. Against the mission she was trying to complete. As each day stretched on she felt more and more like she was abandoning one for the other. Like letting herself live in the moments between each hunt, each kill… like that was a sin she couldn’t come back from. But she was doing it anyway.

“Snacks? I– Ah– No. I have no preference.” Food wasn’t something Ren thought often of. Only when necessary. Only when her stomach groaned and she was too ravenous to deny it. She was better at it when Emilio was providing her with the ‘lunchables’. Gave her a routine to follow. Walk the dog, get his dinner, get her own. But snacks? She wasn’t sure it was something she’d ever indulged in. Pizza though, that was something she’d grabbed before. Incredible what some folks would throw away. One time she found one that was only a few slices short of a whole pie. The box was useful too. Kept out critters, and could help carry other edible things. Pizza was good, she had decided.

“This Janice sounds like… pest?” Why did she care? Why did she want to agree with Van no matter what she said? Why did she want to make Van smile at her? Ren attempted her own version, clumsy and lopsided and never reaching her eyes. But it was something.

—

Van nodded at Ren’s question. “The DM, yeah, I think yours is the only number I didn’t save.” She could have. It was easy to figure out which had been hers once the others had begun to respond to the DM, but she felt like that was passing some kind of unmentioned barrier, and the last thing she wanted to do was make Ren uncomfortable even though she may not even be aware that Van had saved her number in the first place. It was dumb to worry about.

“Everyone likes snacks.” Maybe not some people. Maybe not Ren. “I’ll just pick up some of whatever, then, if you can’t decide. It’ll be a surprise?” She smiled at Ren, allowing her hope for this moment to reflect in her expression and tone. Van clasped her hands together in front of her, nails pressing lightly into the crevices between her index and thumb. She couldn’t go back to the grocery store that it happened in. She would never allow herself to, and it would probably be dumb, even if they didn’t have a security system.

Van snorted, nodding at Ren’s comment. “She sucks, but she’s married to Kurt, what can you expect?” Ren probably didn’t know who the fuck Kurt was, but Van decided that didn’t matter. Ren did the same sort of smile she had the first night Van met her, but this time it seemed a little less on edge– more genuine. Van smiled back with ease. “I’m glad you’re going to come and hang out with us, I think…” She tensed. “I think we all need it.”

—

It was so clear that Ren had so much to learn if she ever wanted to be even close to someone like Van. If she wanted to be someone at all. It occurred to her that practice was the thing she needed the most. It was even more crystalline clear to the nymph that Van reaching out like this was the best opportunity she’d ever get. It was one thing to mirror what she saw online, to talk to the few adults that popped in and out of her life from time to time and learn from them. It was another entirely to get hands-on experience with people her own age.

“Surprise.” She repeated. Light filling her eyes in a way it never really had before. Illuminating that there was in fact, something in there besides a soldier who followed orders and nothing else. “This is good. Not often I get to try new things.” Ren nodded and pressed her lips together, letting her tongue run along them from the inside of the tight seal. “You are… too kind Vanessa.” It wasn’t often Ren was referred to as her full name. Any time it had come up had been a cherished moment of great triumph. Maybe it had something to do with the meaning, but unless she was perfect, she was just Ren. It didn’t occur to her that the same might not be true of anyone else. She had learned Van’s full name, and thought it prudent to show how much she listened, and how much she appreciated everything the other girl had done.

There was a moment of squinting, then of quick assured resolve. As if she decided she was going to act like she knew the names, or at least the meaning behind the sentiment. Context. As Conor and Gael had pointed out, could give as much information as the words that were missing. This Kurt and his wife Janice, they were not so nice. And despite not knowing them, she could digest the information just the same. “I am also glad, though–” Ren gnawed on her lip, suddenly a bit more sheepish than she realized. “–though I do not fully understand why you would want me there. I will be present. Should I… bring anything?”

—

The way she was feeling now compared to when she first approached Ren couldn’t be more different. Now, she felt a little hopeful instead of terribly anxious and humbled by the way the other girl had been so flippant with her greeting. Van’s smile stayed intact as Ren agreed that a surprise would be good. So they were getting somewhere. That was good at least. Van half expected the other girl to dismiss it entirely. It didn’t seem like Ren was the kind of kid who was allowed to eat oreos, so Van decided that would be the first item. Maybe some sour gummy worms, too. She could only imagine the kind of out of body experience something sour would give her. Van began to imagine Ren’s lips puckered and eyes squeezed shut tightly as she had her first bite and had to stop herself from laughing out loud. Instead, her smile just grew a little bigger.

When Ren full-named her, Van laughed. It was a little heavy and it didn’t sit in her chest the way it used to, but she still laughed. “You can just call me Van. Or Essa, I guess. Some people used to do that.” Namely her friend Christine in the fourth grade. “But if you like Vanessa better, you can use that, too.” She didn’t want Ren to think she was upset about her full name being used. She just wasn’t used to it these days. It had been reserved for the adults who’d been upset with her, and it didn’t seem like Ren was upset with her, nor was she an adult.

Van’s brows lifted at Ren’s question of why they would want her there. They being the other girls. It would come as a surprise to Van if they didn’t want Ren there. “Because.” She could go into heavy detail, could explain that their shared trauma was enough to be viewed as an umbilical cord, or she could go the easy route and tell Ren that she was wanted there, it was as simple as that. Van decided for somewhere in the middle. “I think… I’m…” She paused, searching for the words, then pressed her palms against her knees, smoothing out her pants. “I live alone, right? So I don’t… have people come over a lot, and after everything that happened– I thought we might be able to see each other, to help with… you know.” The memories of bloodshed, the way Debbie’s life left her on the hard linoleum. “Plus movies are more fun to watch together! Even if you don’t talk a whole ton, it’s just nice to look over and see other people’s expressions.” She remembered showing her dad the trailer for She-Ra and how she had watched his expression, waiting for him to get excited too. He wouldn’t ever get to watch it, but she’d seen the excitement in his eyes and that was enough for her.

—

Comparatively, it seemed so effortless for Van. The nymph couldn’t help but be a little envious of the way she could smile and look like sunshine rather than Ren’s fowl grimace that never quite looked happy. Maybe it was because she never really had been. This was close though. It was kind of infectious in a way that Ren couldn’t describe. Being around Van made her want to work to keep it this way. To keep the girl smiling brightly, to hear her excited words. Even when many of them were lost on the wayward entomid. Context, it seemed, was less important than content. At least with Van.

Simple.

The way things maybe ought to be. The way they were for people who were people and not discarded things who had been given new purpose. It didn’t strike Ren as odd as it should have that Van lived alone. Didn’t everyone? Ren had been alone since she was old enough to cook for herself. Only getting visits for training and supply drops. But the relief and excitement of someone else being in your home? That was actually quite familiar. Even if it often came with hardship, even if it always came with hard work and pain, Ren cherished the days when Darya would visit. She would light up whenever she heard the approaching warden. Having someone to share your space with, even if your space was tiny, cramped, and nothing special, made it feel more like… home.

Ren nodded again. Stilling herself only when she felt silly for moving around so much. (Honestly it wasn’t even that bad, she was just always so hyper aware of her actions, and how they might affect those around her.) In a show of forwardness she rarely exhibited, Ren reached out. Shook Van’s hand like it was a deal. Like it was something official and that meant she was all in.

“I am thinking I will like this. You are… good for extending invitation. Appreciated.”

—

Van’s brows rose as Ren reached over to shake her hand. She hadn’t expected the gesture, much less the formality of it all, but it felt a little less indifferent and more heartfelt as she took Ren’s hand. She squeezed it slightly with a smile– the kind that reached her eyes.

It had been a long time since she’d received any kind of comment from someone that wasn’t swathed with a different meaning. Van was grateful that Ren could look at her, after everything that happened, and see somebody good. Maybe it was because she’d been the one to throw the gnome? Van’s gaze reflexively drifted to the wound that she knew was sitting beneath her shirt. She forced her gaze upwards and fought to keep the smile she’d offered in the first place.

After a few seconds or so, Van dropped Ren’s hand. “I’m glad you’re going to come and watch with us.” Now, she just needed to convince Thea and Nora. It shouldn’t be that hard. Cass seemed to already be excited for it, she was a huge marvel nerd, and that made Van’s job that much easier. It was a little weird, to consider herself as the host of such events, especially because she’d never hosted anything in her life.

#wickedswriting #thread; sorry to bug you #vanoincidence #ironheartedfae #parental death tw #mention

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