#yeah i keep delaying that encounter

[gobald]

Quick redraw of "How to lose a guy in 10 days" because I think this is how's gonna be like when Mika meets Benny for the first time...

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 2 to A New Form of Pleasure

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: There is something that happened between you and your superior, something that unlocked a new side to both of you that neither of you knew about, but Simon may not be as keen to accept it as you are. However, after a bit of silence on his part, a late night visit might just fix everything.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Quiet breathing is the only noise left in the room as both of your bare, glistening bodies lay exhausted in bed, wrapped in a euphoric haze as Simon’s hand draws lazy circles up and down your arm. He continues the pattern for several minutes until that high finally starts to subside and clarity comes rolling back in.

Your eyes scan the small room to find the solitary clock along the wall and seeing how late it is you make the decision that it’s time to head back to your own room. The night is waning faster than you thought and now that the problem has been fixed, you both should really get some sleep.

Without a word you crawl your way out from his side and begin the search for your clothes; you won’t make it far across base naked. Simon props himself up against the wall behind the head of his bed, one arm behind him like a headrest as those dark eyes follow you through the room collecting your clothes to get dressed. Strange thoughts are already swirling around in his mind now that it’s clear of his desire, but he keeps those thoughts locked tight behind his closed lips and just enjoys the sight of your body until those silky curves are once again hidden from his sight. 

Your shirt is put on last and with that he too makes it out of bed and tosses on his sweats to walk with you the short distance to the door. “Till next time, yeah?” you say with a light chuckle, delaying the inevitable for a few seconds more so that the heat in your cheeks can die down.

Pulling you back against his warm chest with a strong arm wrapped around your waist, he places another grateful kiss to your lips and the moment you break apart he places his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispers in the space between your raw mouths.

“Anytime,” you say with eyes still closed. “Just say the word and I’m here to do this again.” 

He moves back and you shoot him a bright smile as you reach for the door handle before you can talk yourself out of it and just like that you make your way out into the night. His eyes stay on you until he can’t make out your form in the darkness anymore and only then does he head back inside with a question pressing to the forefront of his thoughts.

What the hell has he gotten himself into now?

Days pass in normal fashion, but Simon doesn’t speak a peep about that night; there’s no requests for more encounters, no mentions of how good it was, nothing. You find it odd after all the intensity you had both shared, after the way he had told you how much he really wanted you to make him beg, that all of a sudden it would just be radio silence from him. Perhaps it would just remain a secret that you would share or maybe��� maybe he thinks it was a mistake.

Whatever the case you keep it to yourself and things around the base return to the usual standard of monotony that day to day life brings whenever there are no missions scheduled. The only thing that keeps you from over thinking too much is the fact that Simon addresses you as he always has, but you can feel some space between you that hadn’t been there before and it puts a sour taste in your mouth that you can’t seem to shake.

More days pass in this confusing limbo, more nights spent alone in your bed without that thrill of making your superior cum again and now you’re frustrated. It wasn’t just Simon that got opened to something new, you did too and you liked it. Now it’s just over and tonight you’ve just about had it.

“I guess I better just get used to it,” you mutter to yourself as you roll over to turn out the lamp to at least try and get some rest.

You aren’t certain how long you’ve been asleep, but something suddenly breaks you out of your slumber. In your sleepy haze you aren’t entirely sure it’s actually anything until it happens again. Tap, tap, tap. Someone is knocking at your door and it’s getting louder and more frantic. It’s late, much later than having random company would allow and curiosity has you in its grip as you bound out of bed.

“One second,” you call out as you quickly flick on the lamp and blink a few times to adjust to the light.  

Another round of knocks ring out and you grab a jacket you have lying about close by to cover your tank top and panties well enough to greet whoever it is on the other side as it’s clear you won’t be able to get fully dressed; must be urgent the way the person doesn’t even seem to react to your message. Quickly you grab for the handle and turn the knob, ready to find out what’s so pressing that you would be disturbed this late. 

You open the door barely a crack and there, standing close to the frame, is the hulking form of the lieutenant. His random presence catches you off guard; he is the last person you’d expect to see right now with no previous warning. What the hell is he doing here? Silly question, but you don’t want to assume even though you are quick to pick up on a few signs. 

His attention falls to you as he finishes surveying the area around him and those eyes immediately find yours looking up into his balaclava-masked face. You notice something strange in his gaze… like he’s nervous. The sweats he’s currently wearing look as if they’ve been thrown on in a hurry and he isn’t even wearing a shirt, it’s just his dog tags that are over his bare chest. It’s like he’s bolted all the way over here the way he breathes in laborious, heavy draws. 

“Bit late don’t you think?” you say, trying to ascertain from his demeanor what the agenda for this visit is. “Can I help you lieutenant?”

Simon clears his throat. “We need ta talk,” he says, ignoring the snide way you utter his title as he rushes to finish speaking as if he doesn’t have the time. “Are ya gonna fuckin’ let me in?”

“I don’t know if I should…” you counter, your sleepy state making it hard to hide how annoyed you are at his sudden appearance.

He knows he deserves it, but he is desperate to get in. “Please,” he pushes; it’s not a word he uses often.

You detect that hint of desperation in his tone and unable to stop yourself you silently fling open the door enough that he can pass by you to get in. Without another word shared between you both he quickly steps inside as you poke your head out. The hallway is quiet, everyone else still asleep for the night. No personnel can be seen moving about which leads you to believe this isn’t a business call… at least that’s what you hope. 

You close the door and set the lock out of habit, but as you go to turn around your pithy words about how he better have a good reason to wake you up in the dead of night die on your tongue as you are suddenly forced back first onto the surface of the door and pinned with by two large, rough hands on your hips as bulky muscles press against your stomach. The action is so fast it leaves your mind reeling and grasping for understanding.

“Again,” he growls in a huff, his face inches from yours. “Need it again.”

Simon’s breath is warm as it wafts over your features and you realize his balaclava is already discarded haphazardly on your floor; there is no barrier that now exists between you. The parts of his skin that make contact with your body through your clothing are feverish to the touch; it’s like he’s on fire. 

His hands on your hips grip into the muscle harder as he speaks. “Need ya ta make me come again,” he groans, his lips getting closer as he tries to hold back long enough to have this conversation. “Like ya did last time. Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Can’t get off alone again, so you’ve come crawling back to me? Is that it?” you ask, followed by an irked chuckle as you try to steady your breathing, hoping he can’t tell how flustered that little move just made you. He doesn’t get that luxury, at least not yet.

Simon shakes his head slowly. “I’s not that,” he replies, quieting his voice. 

“Then what?” You stare back, waiting for his reply.

Simon licks at his bottom lip. “I’s not just ‘bout comin’... I want you, the way ya fuckin’ do it and I’ll do anythin’ ya tell me to jus’ ta have it like that again.”

His needy words stir something inside you, making you feel that boldness you did that night this happened the first time. How could you say no to a request like that? But you can’t just let all that silence that built between you both in the days since that night pass without saying something.

“Care to tell me why you’ve been ignoring the subject then? I thought we had something going last time and ever since you’ve acted like nothing happened. You made me think we were actually gonna keep this up.”

He pauses a moment as he thinks about how best to answer. “I… like tha fuckin’ power ya seem ta have over me,” he admits finally. He knows he’s fucked up and if this has any chance of going anywhere tonight he is going to have to be honest. “Not used to enjoyin’ somethin’ like that and once the pleasure subsided I got self-conscious ‘bout it. I shoulda said somethin’ to ya sooner. I’m not exactly tha best at tryin’ new things.”

Dammit, that’s actually a reasonable excuse. And, of course, you’re already forgiving him. Fuck. “I guess I can understand that,” you admit as he ever so subtly brushes his lips over your own, which doesn’t help you in staying mad at him. “But how do I know you’re not gonna just pull this shit again, hmm? That we’re not gonna keep playing this game where I give you what you need and then you just ignore me till you need it again? Cause guess what, I got needs too you know.”

Releasing one of your hips, his rough fingers come up to mess with the zipper on your jacket as he lets his confession linger in the air a moment until he pushes the edges of your open coat back to see the skimpy bits of clothing you have underneath and his breath hitches. Barely anything on; god damn he is starving.

Simon’s dark eyes meet yours one for a split second before he breaks the short distance between your faces to catch your lips in a desperate and heated kiss that you cannot help but reciprocate with the same intensity. It’s not exactly the answer you wanted, but in this moment it isn’t half bad and all that frustration melts away as your mouths dance in feverish bursts until finally Simon breaks the kiss.

He inhales a shuddered breath. “Because ya got me in a fuckin’ chokehold, luv.”

You swallow hard to collect yourself; you have been waiting for this chance to spread your dominant wings again and now is not the time to get swept up in his overwhelming desire, not if you want to do this right; you need to keep your head. 

“Well, then that was a good first start, but I’m gonna need a bit more before I can really forgive you.”

Those coffee eyes drift back up from your flushed lips to your face. “I wanna make this right. I’m at your fuckin’ mercy.”

The dog tags around his neck clank together as he shifts his stance and the sound causes a reaction that makes your hand gravitate to them without even thinking. Your fingers find the chain wrapped around his neck and slip around it, pulling it towards you to grip it tightly in your fist, and tug hard.

The action is unexpected and even though it takes Simon by surprise he cannot help moaning deep and guttural at the feeling of the chain tightening around his throat in such a delicious way. This is why he knew he had to come to you tonight, you are full of surprises and he was doing himself a disservice by staying away.

His reaction is evidence that you’re onto something and you decide to run with it. “Then you best be obedient and get down on your knees,” you whisper into the intimate space between your mouths. 

You wrap the chain around your fingers again to make it tighter around his neck and give the tags another hard jerk downward now. That hulking man doesn’t hesitate to follow your direction, slipping out of his shoes and lowering himself to the ground right at your feet like a dog waiting for a treat.      

God, it already feels good to be back in this headspace again, he thinks and your thoughts match the same without either of you knowing.

With your free hand, you wiggle your arm until the sleeve of your jacket slips down and you can pull your arm out of it before you switch the chain to the other hand and do the same to the other side. The clothing falls around your feet and there you stand in almost nothing. 

Simon’s eyes are immediately drawn to your clothed pussy, but you need him to pay attention and so you jerk the chain. “Eh, eyes up on me. I need you to look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Dark eyes snap back to your face and you smirk. “There you go,” you praise him before issuing your first of many demands. “Now, I want you to listen carefully. You are going to take off my panties… with your teeth.” 

Again he immediately follows your order, holding his hands together behind his back to prevent them from getting involved and he leans in to place his lips against your lower abdomen as his teeth latch onto the waistband of your panties. Simon looks up just for a second to see how you tower over him with his makeshift leash wrapped around your delicate fingers. 

God, you look so fucking good.

It makes him feel small for the first time since he was a kid. His body feels like it is vibrating at a new frequency now as he drags that small piece of fabric off your hips and down the length of your legs, excitement and ecstasy flooding through him at a rapid pace so that his heartbeat is pounding dangerously fast.

“That tongue of yours is going to have to do a little more forgiving,” you say as he reaches your ankles, his mouth still clinging to that delicate bit of fabric, his face in the floor as he waits for you to step out of them so that he can sit back upright with his prize between his lips. 

That’s all the context he needs to know what’s coming and his heartbeat leaps excitedly in his chest at the prospect of having his face buried between your legs. You can see the look in his eyes as he drops the undergarment from his mouth and lets it fall down to the floor between his knees; so eager to please in that aspect, but this isn’t for him, it’s for you. 

You chuckle at his electric enthusiasm that you can feel coursing from him as you place your hand at the back of his head. “Don’t get too excited now, you better be sure I can feel just how sorry you are,” you say as you push his head in towards your body, struggling to hide the way your breathing hitches as he gets in close and his balmy lips make contact with the skin on your abdomen.

His lips are already on the move the moment they touch down and he trails them to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. 

Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and in a flash he is smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier, adjusting the chain in your hand so you don’t lose it. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had from the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft gasp as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up for air. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, he writes his apology all over your cunt until the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured washes away the rest of your annoyance at him.

He is relentless in his endeavor, putting his all into eating you out like a goddess deserves. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you can barely contain yourself, but you continue to hang on. There is still more work to be done to him and as good as this feels you cannot let it derail your objective.

You raise your hand to the top of his head. “Who do you belong to Simon?” you ask through a moan as you pet over his scalp and through his short hair. “I’m going to need you to say it, out loud, so that I know you aren’t going to stray away from me again. Say it, say you’re mine.”

Simon pulls away from you swiftly. “I’m yours,” he says against your pussy.

You can feel his warm breath on your lips. “Again,” you push for another answer.

His fingers dig into your thighs. “I am yours, sweetheart.”

“Good boy,” you praise and you can feel him shiver against the palm of your hand still resting over the crown of his head. 

That military officer eats you out as if he is a man starved, his aggression in taking all he can from you making you lose it fast and you scramble as he goes to come up with what comes next. You hadn’t forgotten his words from the last encounter, how he wanted you to make him beg, and you know that this isn’t the way to make that happen; he would clearly love to drown in you forever and be happy to do it.

The more that pressure that builds at the base of your spine, the less time you have to claw through the haze to create a plan, but as you look up from the top of his head bobbing between your legs your sight lands on your bed and like being struck with lightning, your mind materializes a single image of him tied down, arms outstretched with you on top of him and you know what you want to do.

Calmly you try to pull him from you. “That’s enough,” you coax, but he digs his fingers in harder to your hips.

“Wanna make ya cum,” he groans into your body, but you pull him from you by contorting the chain and taking a step back to get out of his immediate way.

“I’m not done with you yet,” you say with a smirk as you look down into his face to see the lower half glimmering with your slick and his saliva. “It’s time to move on to the next part. Go get on the bed and lay down on your back up by the head… and don’t make me tell you again.”

Wiping the wet mixture from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, he gets to his feet and heads to the bed just as you directed. You have to do this on the fly since you haven’t had any time to prepare, but thankfully your pack of gear isn’t far and making your way to it, you dive into one of your duffel bags. It takes you a minute, but finally your hand makes purchase with what you are searching for and you pull out a bundle of military issue rope. 

“Arms out,” you direct him as you make your way back over to the bed. “I know someone likes to get handsy, so we’re gonna take care of that.”

His eyes stay glued to your movements as you bind his wrists and strap them down to the legs under your bed. It’s a good thing you did because as soon as you finish you stand at the foot and remove your tank top agonizingly slowly, letting your breasts bounce as they fall out and you can see the way his pupils dilate; you know he is itching to get his hands on you again. His sweats start to tent even more than they had from the pleasure of being face-deep in your pussy as you stand there completely naked like the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen.

Are you a devil, an angel? Whatever you are, he cannot get enough.

Like a lioness stalking through the grass, you slink onto the bed on all fours, moving until you are over top of his legs where you finally stop and your fingers brush across his stomach as you grab at the waistband of his pants. “Lift your hips,” you command and he does.

You pull them down and off his legs and you can see his cock is already pulsing at attention as it springs free from its cage. Fuck, he’s so hard already he can barely see straight and he has to clench his fists tight and take a few deep breaths to calm himself as he waits for further instruction.

Using the pad of your pointer finger, you lightly brush it over his tip and watch as he almost levitates off the bed as he groans. You wait until he has settled back down before you decide to speak, the smile on your face unable to be contained; oh, he is going to be begging alright, once you’re done with him.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do… we are going to play a little game. I want just the tip inside me, that’s it. And you’re going to lay there and let me warm it for a bit. If you can last till I say then I’ll let you fuck me however you want.” 

You lean over him to grab his chin firmly in your hand. “Do you understand?”

Simon struggles to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head as your skin brushes against him. Fuck, why did he wait so long for this? “Yes,” he says.

That drugged look in his eyes, you can’t get enough of it. “Yes, what?”

Crap, what should he say? You are waiting for his reply, but his mind is already gone. Luckily the soldier in him takes over. “Yes, sergeant, understood.”

That’ll do. “You’re even better at this than you were last time,” you praise, releasing his chin to position your body over top of him, using his chest as leverage, and you can tell he is holding his breath as you grab his cock to place the head right at your entrance.

“Aww, baby, you better breathe cause we’re going to be here a while,” you say and lower your hips to take the tip inside the threshold of your wet cunt.

Simon is now in a battle with internal demons as he fights himself not to cum from this small bit of insertion, his cock is throbbing something fierce as your body puts the tip in a chokehold. You aren’t faring any better as he stretches you out; all you want is to lower yourself on it all the way, but you push that feeling down and incline yourself forward so you won’t be tempted.

The heartbeat coming up through your palms pressed into his chest is thunderous and you can’t help but smile as you count the strikes to calm down. “There we go,” you say after a moment. “See, you’re already doing so well Si. If you keep this up you’re gonna get what you want, to fuck the shit out of me.”

Minutes pass, but the time passes so incredibly slowly that it feels like hours to the lieutenant. He’d been in all types of high stress situations in his career, but nothing had ever been more overwhelming than having to rest just barely inside you without letting that animalistic part of himself take over to thrust up into you until you both cum.

Sweat starts to gather on his bare chest the longer this goes, a product of the conflict raging inside, and it rolls down in shimmering beads over the curves of his muscles, through the hair covering his chest and abdomen, all the way past his belly button. 

You can tell Simon is losing the war with himself to stay still as he unintentionally tries to buck his hips up into you, but he can’t get any purchase as you raise yourself up off him. “Ah, ah, ah, the more you struggle, the less you get,” you tease. “I said just the tip and I meant it. Now, be a good boy and stay still; we’re almost done. You don’t want to lose it right at the end, do you?”

The need is killing him and he can hardly see straight anymore. He wants, no he needs to be deep inside you, but he can’t. You won’t let him. Instead his eyes fixate on something else, anything to give him the strength to survive. 

“See something you like?” you ask with a coy smile spread across your lips. “I can see how hard you’re focusing on my nipples.”

“Need ‘em… in my mouth…” he stammers out. 

“Then stay still and maybe I’ll let you suck them.”

Forcing himself not to move an inch, he becomes like stone even as his muscles twitch and you move your upper body towards him just enough so that he can lean his head in and capture one of your breasts in his hot mouth. 

The moan he lets out in relief is intoxicating, matching the way you feel in between his lips. His suction is strong, pulling as much of the soft, supple tissue into his mouth that he can until breathing becomes nearly impossible. 

“You like that?” you ask in a groan of pleasure and he nods enthusiastically. 

There’s a light pop as he unsuctions his lips from around the first breast to get at the other one, pulling it into his mouth with just as much enthusiasm as the first one. Your distraction is working a little too well, but on you now and it isn’t long before it’s going to make you break.  

You need to end this soon.

“How bad do you want to fuck me now?” you ask, grinding on his tip as you push on his chin to remove him from your nipple so he can at least try and answer.  

There is a hazy quality to his eyes now that reminds you of someone after a night out of heavy drinking. He can barely speak as he feels your slick start to drip down his shaft, but he swallows to gather the strength to create a simple sentence. “So fuckin’ bad.” The words feel too cumbersome in his mouth.

“You want me to untie you so you can take me?” you ask, your tone still cocky even as you yourself are falling apart.

“Please,” he grunts.

“Yeah, you gonna ruin this tight pussy? You gonna rail me so hard I can’t walk after?”

You risk lowering down a bit more onto his shaft and he has to bite the inside of his lip in order to answer. “Gonna ruin you.”

“Then you know what you have to do, Simon. You said it yourself last time and I am going to hold you to it.”

You rotate your hips as you squeeze so that your walls clamp down on him and he chokes on his own saliva as he strains to stay still. His cock is so sensitive he’s sure by now that a little breeze would make him blow his load, but that’s not how he wants it to happen. He’s come this far, the only way he wants to go out is from fucking you.

One more rotation and you stay still to give him a moment to recover; you need his fervent participation for this next part. “ Simon,” you say his name to make him focus on your face again, “beg.”

You’re not gonna go easy on him; that’s just what he wants. “Please,” he says in a whimper, his voice the most meek you’ve ever heard it. It surprises even him that he can sound so pathetic after all the years he’s been the dominant one. “Please, luv, I need ta fuck ya. I’m beggin’ ya luv, please. I’ll… I’ll… I’ll be your good boy. Whateva ya want me ta say, I’ll fuckin’ say it; whateva ya want me ta do, I’ll fuckin’ do it. Jus’ want ta be good for ya so we both can fuckin’ cum.”

“And you’re not gonna pull away from me again?” you ask. “Not gonna deny yourself this type of pleasure from now on?”

“I swear it,” he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m yours, I belong to ya.”

A smile spreads across your lips and fills the features of your face. “Good boy,” you praise as you raise yourself off his body amongst his agonized grunts of displeasure. You move closer to the first wrist to undo the restraint. “That was better than I could have imagined, Simon. I think you’ve more than earned your turn now.”

The tie on his second wrist hasn’t even slipped off the bed before you are forcefully grabbed by the waist and flung onto your back as Simon rips your legs apart and clambers his hulking body in between your thighs. He looks down and sees the effect your teasing has had on you too as the lips of your pussy are covered with your arousal. 

What a pretty fucking sight.

But there’s something he’s been thinking of since you grabbed his dog tags back at the start of all this, one last thing he wants you to do as he pounds you into the mattress. Grabbing both of your arms by the wrists he wrenches them up so that your hands are near his neck. He releases them from his grasp and uses his own hands to encircle yours around his throat.

“Squeeze, hard,” he growls as he leans in to capture your lips and you apply ample pressure to the sides of his neck.

It’s like flicking on a switch and his kisses turn rough and intense in a second so that he is devouring your mouth with everything he has, shoving his tongue to the back of your mouth until you are so full of him just as you will be down below in only a few more seconds time. A low groan vibrates in his throat against your palms before spilling onto your tongue. 

“Mmm, gonna fuck the shit outta ya now, luv,” he gasps between the embraces of your mouths. 

God, yes, please. “Then give it to me, baby,” you purr as you keep your hands firmly around his neck. “That’s it, get your prize.”

Simon pushes your thighs back towards your chest as he aligns the head of his throbbing cock with your moist entrance and you can no longer hold back how much you need him in you, inching your hips forward as you try to force him inside. Is it desperate? Yes. Is it needy? Yes. Do you fucking care? Not even in the slightest.

He’s the one to chuckle now. “Christ, you’re gonna be tha death ‘a me and I’m gonna die fuckin’ happy as hell.” With that he pushes through the threshold and down the length of his thick shaft, bottoming out all the way inside.

After all that stimulation, being smothered in your tight, wet cunt is almost too much for his sanity to handle. Just entering you he is already seeing stars. What’s going to happen when he actually comes?  

The first of his movements comes swift and hard; there is no more time for being gentle, not with the way both of your bodies are in agony for release. Your poor, government issued mattress can hardly withstand the power of his desperate thrusts as he slams them forcefully into you, each one causing the springs to creak and groan loudly until it is echoing off the walls.   

You open your mouth, pushing yourself to keep in control even as he is shoving his cock so far into you, you swear you can feel it in your stomach. “That’s it, give it to me Simon. Fuck, I love the way you stretch me out.”

The sloppy sounds of your drenched pussy being penetrated so aggressively grow louder and louder the more he ruts into you at that relentless pace. He pushes your legs back farther against your chest to open you up even more, needing to get as deep as humanly possible. There is only one thing left in his feeble mind now: to make you both cum and cum hard.

You let out a moan as your body shakes up and down with each thrust and squeeze so that you tighten around him and it makes his thrusting falter, breaking his rhythm for a moment.

“Bloody hell, jus’ like that… fuck…”

His words fuel you to do it again and he groans. “Yeah? You like that?” you ask breathlessly and he nods.

“That’s what you do to me Simon,” you continue. “No one makes me feel like you do.”

You compress around him again and his body jolts. “God, you’re gonna make me cum. It feels so good, sweetheart. Don’t stop.” 

“I want you to cum, Si. Cum for me. I need it so fucking bad; I’ve been waiting so long to make it happen again.”

Just the thought of making him fall apart again is a stimulant in itself and all that pressure that had been previously built is quickly coming to a head, that warmth in your belly glowing through you with more intensity now. That look of euphoria must be plastered all over your face for him to see because he is focused in on you even harder at making sure his strokes are more even.

“You first,” Simon grunts. “And don’t fuckin’ hold back.”

He is fighting tooth and nail to hold on for just a little bit longer; he knows you can’t be far off. Then he sees your toes curling into the air at his sides and he instinctively knows that each thrust is hitting its mark precisely as it’s meant to, your body giving in to all the pleasure it needs to be satisfied. A few more pumps and there it is, just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as your core flutters around his cock.

You place your hand over his gripped around your thigh and he laces his fingers in between the spaces in your own, holding onto you for dear life as you coax him with shaky words. “Let go, baby. That’s it.”

He isn’t far behind and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been tirelessly overwhelming his body all night finally shoots through his body while he releases a loud moan, the euphoria coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out and you reach between your legs to take it in your free hand to stroke it over your stomach. His warm load shoots out in short bursts, coating the skin on your abdomen in his cum.

“You did so good for me, Simon,” you sweetly praise in repeat as you work his cock until he has to tap your hand to get you to stop.

His limbs are shaking from the comedown as he breathes in deep, his body spent, his mind completely blank in his state of ecstasy, and he releases your legs to tumble down beside you exhausted. A few minutes pass silently in that high until he can collect himself enough to speak again.   

With his palm against your cheek, he turns your head to face him. “If I ever do somethin’ as stupid as tryin’ to stay away from ya again, ya ‘ave my permission to fuckin’ deck me,” he says with a laugh before scooching in closer to your face to place a kiss to your lips.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you say against his mouth, “ cause you said it yourself Si, you’re mine now. And you would never deny me what’s mine, would you?”

Another kiss placed to your lips, this one lingering a bit. “Never,” he says finally.

Good, you think, cause I will fucking deck you.

[the-offside-rule]

Jenson Button (McLaren Era) - Formal

Requested: yes

Prompt: reader using Jensons name instead of his pet name

Warnings: none tbh

Jenson's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he navigated the familiar roads home from the McLaren Technology Centre. The hum of the engine was drowned out by the cheerful voice of his girlfriend, Y/n, on the other end of the line. "Heya, love." She said, her tone a touch too sweet for the usual end-of-day call. "Could you do me a favor?" Jenson smiled, glancing at the clock. "Of course, darling. What's up?" He asked, beginning to drive down the long road down the MTC. "Well, I was thinking... can you swing by McDonald's and grab me some chips, maybe a burger and a chocolate shake? I'm craving it." She requested, her voice holding a peculiar edge.

"Yeah okay, darling. Burger, chips and a chocolate shake, got it." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Y/n rarely asked for such specific fast food orders. "Oh, and Jenson-" She continued, emphasizing his full name instead of the usual pet names she used. "Make sure it's fresh, okay?" A small frown creased Jenson's forehead. "Not if you keep calling me that." Jenson replied. "What do you mean? I called you Jenson." Y/n said, kind of confused. "Why the sudden formality? You never call me Jenson unless something's up." Y/n giggled amusingly. "Nothing's up, love, I promise. I just thought it would be nice for a change."

"Well don't, please and thank you. I quite like you calling me my pet name." Jenson's skepticism lingered as he pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru. "Jenson, your parents gave you that name." He rolled the window down. "Yes, my parents. You, darling, are my girlfriend. I like when you call me love and if you don't I'm afraid I'll have to block you." He ordered the requested items, making a mental note to ensure they were as hot as possible by the time he got home. As he drove away with the bag of fast food, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/n's request.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jenson's heart raced as he hurriedly navigated through the evening traffic, eager to reach home and see what he'd done done annoy his girlfriend this time. The anticipation of seeing her after a long day fueled his desire to press on the accelerator just a bit more. Blue and red lights flashed behind him, causing Jenson to let out an exasperated sigh. Pulling over and groaning, he rolled down his window to meet the stern gaze of a police officer. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The officer asked upon reaching the car. Jenson offered a sheepish smile. "I might have been going a tad over the limit, officer. Apologies, I'm just trying to get home."

The officer raised an eyebrow. "Home, huh? And where might that be?" He asked. "Right down the road." Jenson replied, gesturing vaguely ahead. "I've been away for a while, you see. Just eager to get back." The officer eyed Jenson skeptically. "You expect me to believe that? You're in quite a hurry. Who do you think you are? Lewis Hamilton?" Jenson couldn't help but chuckle at the comparison. "No, but I've beaten him a good few times." He replied, smirking.

The officer's expression remained stoic. "I don't appreciate jokes, sir. License and registration, please." Suppressing a sigh, Jenson reached for his documents and handed them over. The officer scrutinized them before returning to his patrol car to run a check. As Jenson waited, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. He understood the officer's duty, but the delay was becoming increasingly frustrating.

Finally, the officer returned, ticket in hand. "I'm issuing you a speeding ticket, Mr. Button. Please drive more responsibly in the future." Jenson gave a fake smile and took the ticket. "I appreciate the reminder, officer. I'll keep that in mind." As the officer walked off, Jenson mumbled to himself, the words "complete arsehole" being repeated multiple times.

Once home, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're back! Thanks, Jenson." He handed her the bag, studying her carefully. "Alright. What's going on? Why the sudden craving and the formal use of my name?" Y/n smirked, unable to keep the secret any longer. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to see how you'd react. I like getting reactions out of you." She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Really? You made me drive to McDonald's and speed home because I thought you were pissed off with me. I got a speeding ticket!" Jenson said, lifting the ticket. "And you have a Happy girlfriend who now has McDonald's." Jenson chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, Y/n. Next time, just ask for McDonald's without the elaborate plan."

"It's not as effective though, is it?" She teased.

[emotionoitme]

under the moon

carmy berzatto x reader

final part of about a girl

masterlist

warnings: drinking & drug use (marijuana), carmy being mean, clubbing, jealousy, so much dirty talk, bdsm dom/sub undertones, oral sex (f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, choking, lots of cursing as usual

wc: 9.2k

a/n: i am so excited for you all to read this. & sorry for the slight delay, it took me a bit longer than expected to finish! thank you so so much for your continued support on this series! i genuinely never thought people would like it so much🥺 enjoy!

foster the people - under the moon

she had begrudgingly awoken the following morning, head feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, eyes swollen and sore. the bright morning light streams through her open blinds, soaking the room in warm sun. she groans, throwing the duvet over her completely, praying her bed would open up into a sinkhole and swallow her completely. she snakes her arm out, reaching around the nightstand for her phone, pulling it back in. she had overslept about an hour, meaning she would have to heavily compromise on her morning routine and practically sprint to work if she wanted to make it on time. she considered it shortly, but ultimately pulled up her contacts app on her phone, opting to call in sick. she scrolls, the first option being carmy. she wanted so badly to hear his voice, yet her stomach drops at the thought of him, so she quickly scrolls past the contact to find sydney’s number instead. the girl hesitates for a moment, before dialing, a point of deliberation deep within her. she wanted to be as far as away from the man as she could possibly be, the thought of his mere face bringing her a feeling of anguish. on the other hand, she wanted to bear witness to his demeanor— reassure herself that he’s as affected as she is over last night’s encounter. 

he’s probably fine, she thinks to herself, lips twisted into a frown, he’s the one who didn’t want to keep it going. she tries to push the thought away, a hot pang of regret seeping through her body. she burrows deeper into the safety of her bed, tapping the icon next to syd’s contact, bringing the phone to her ear. the line rings, once, twice, three times, then a click. 

“hello?” she hears at the other end. 

“hey, syd,” she greets, groggily, “um, i'm sorry to do this to you guys, but i can’t come in today,” she explains, clarifying, “im sick, my stomach really hurts.” it was a white lie, told out of self preservation, knowing if she saw carmy’s face she surely would feel sick. she hears sydney take a breath. 

“uhh, yeah, that’s fine. we should be fine,” she assures, continuing to ask, “are you still gonna come out with us tomorrow night?” syd pushes a piece of silverware neatly into place, finishing the last table as she watches her business partner come out from the kitchen, walking towards her. 

“tomorrow night?” the girl questions, flipping her duvet off her head for oxygen. 

sydney chides her name, “tomorrow night, tina’s birthday? drinks, dancing, i’ve been telling you about it since last thursday?” glancing at her coworker, curious about who she’s talking to. sydney mouths the girl’s name to him, carmen then gesturing to ask for the phone. 

“yes, syd, thank you! i will be there. i’m sorry i’ve been so scattered this week,” she replies, sitting up out of bed. 

“you’re fine, we can unwind tomorrow,” sydney replies, mouthing “okay, okay,” to the persistently gesturing man, “here, let me put you on with carmy,” she replies, going to hand the phone to the man. 

“no!” the other line interrupts, more frantic than she meant to sound, met with silence. “i mean,” she tries to backtrack, “i don’t want him to worry about me. don’t put me on,” the girl stumbles out. 

“welll, he’s saying that he wants to talk to you… so, i don’t really have much of a choice, okay, bye!” the chipper girl quickly tells her. 

fuck, she mentally exclaims, i should’ve just gone in if i was gonna have to talk to him anyways. 

she hears her name through the line, tone questioning, as carmy takes the phone from syd. 

“hi,” she responds to his beckon, quietly. 

“you’re calling in?” he asks, holding a finger up to syd, walking towards the back office for some privacy. she tightly closes her eyes, finding her words. 

“i, uh, don’t feel good,” she responds, tone shakier than she had anticipated. the line goes silent for a minute, the girl mindlessly fiddling with a loose thread on her comforter. 

“are you avoiding me?” comes his question, catching her slightly off guard. 

“no, carmy” she quickly defends, “i don’t feel well.”

“what’s wrong?” he asks, taking a seat in his office chair. 

“my, um,” she hesitates, “my stomach hurts.” 

he’s not sure he believes her, leaning back in the chair and running a hand over his face.

“okay,” he concedes, letting out a sigh, “just, uh, take it easy today then.” he hears her hum in agreement, pausing before continuing. 

“are you going to that club tomorrow?” carmy asks her, “for tina’s birthday?” 

she dangles her legs over the edge of the bed, mindlessly kicking back and forth. 

“are you?” she asks, eager to skip out on anything besides shutting herself safely inside and maybe putting her fingers to good use to prove carmen nonessential, the memories of his touch flooding her mind incessantly. 

“i think i have to,” he responds, “i already told syd i would,” his eyes glancing back towards the open office door. she softly smiles, knowing she was in the same boat. 

“okay,” standing and walking to her closet, looking for a  club-suitable dress, “i’ll go too, then,” a small smirk in her tone. he can’t fight the smile that breaks his face, eyebrows raising slightly. 

“carmy, my phone?” he hears from the hallway, a reminder of his surroundings, his time talking with the girl running short. 

“yeah!” he yells back to the hallway, “hey, uh, feel better today, okay? i’ll see you tomorrow night,” carmy tells the girl, watching sydney walk into the office. 

“thanks, carm. bye,” she responds, the call ending shortly thereafter. she had felt slightly guilty abandoning her shift, all for the purpose of not having to be tortured with his presence, a reminder of what had transpired the previous night. their casual encounters had quickly morphed into something else within her brain, feeling a deep sense of affection towards the man, chastising herself because she had worried about this and continued anyways. 

she makes her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water over her face, the morning chill seeping through her bones. would it be so wrong for them to keep seeing each other? they were consenting adults—albeit boss and employee— both previously oblivious to the profound magnetism of their natural connection. she wanted to pursue things with him further, increasingly affected by his caring words and gestures, no longer being able to deny the twinge in her chest she gets when picturing his face. 

but she knew he didn’t want the same. 

why would he? she thought, it isn’t what he signed up for. he seemed focused on his work, like he would have limited time for a relationship.

she opted to get a few chores done around the house, taking advantage of the day off, sticking on the thought of him, though, finding herself looking through her closet for a dress with him in mind. 

—

the space is hot, crowded, alive with movement. tickets pour from the printer one by one. 

“it goes to four cousin, for the third time,” carmy scolds, “stop fucking with the tickets already,” hands busied with removing a large pot from the burner. 

“hold on, i’m fixing them,” richie argues back, clutching a mess of paper. 

carmy paces to the walk in refrigerator, grabbing a large container and making his way through the sea of bustling employees, checking on stations. he was running on fumes, only getting a solid three hours of sleep the previous night, plagued by a swarming head and uneasy stomach.

it’s best this way, he tells himself over again, easiest, hoping that if he repeats it enough times it will start to feel true. 

“alright send these out to six, please,” he hears from the front of the kitchen, glancing over at the expo, seeing the recently plated entrees. 

“fuck, richie, four!” carmen snaps, his hand flying out. 

“jesus, alright, four!” richie yells, widening his eyes, shaking his head, continuing. “calm down, carm, she’ll be back thursday,” a snicker on his face 

carmen freezes in his spot, skin beginning to burn. his eyes dart to richie, jaw twitching. 

“shut the fuck up,” he bites, venom in his tone, trying to push himself further into his work to outlet the growing frustration. he hears the other man chuckle knowingly, glancing at carmen. 

“okay, sore spot!” richie pokes, organizing the last few tickets, smile on his face. the chef doesn’t reply, beginning to quickly chop vegetables, unsure of what would slip off his tongue if he opened his mouth. 

it was unclear to him why he was unable to regulate himself when it came to someone even mentioning her, figuring it was temporary, and would slowly dissipate once they had some distance from each other. carmy deeply exhales, glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until he would be able to see her again. 

—

it was incredible how fast days would slip by when she didn’t have to go to the restaurant, taking care of domestic matters and recharging from the strenuous week so far, not thinking of carmen.

she goes to sleep that night wearing his clothes, arms wrapped around herself as if the sensation could ever come close to his touch, waking the next morning to eagerly check a phone empty of notifications. on her second day off she works on assignments for her classes, calls an old friend and grabs herself lunch from a bagel shop nearby. upon returning home she grabs a pair of earbuds and spends a few hours outside in the sunlight, mending the cracks in her heart, falling asleep on her balcony sofa and letting the sun kiss her better. the light of the afternoon seeps into the evening, painting the city in a soft yellow blanket, the girl slowly blinking awake. she watches a few cars drive by, a warm breeze shifting the trees, slowly sitting up and stretching, checking the time on her phone. she has a few hours to get ready before meeting everyone for drinks, her body relaxing at the confirmation. her eyes glance down past the time, seeing two new messages on her screen. 

carmy: 416 s clark street

carmy: do you need a ride?

she unlocks her phone, staring at the gray bubbles for what seems like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keys. she begins to type a response, “no. gonna walk,” then quickly deletes it, knowing he would insist on driving her.  

why is he trying to be so nice still?

she feels a twinge of irritation, quickly shutting off the phone, opting to not reply to his message. he was a hard man to understand, his actions contradicting his words more often than not—declaring the two finished, then continuing to pursue contact, referring to them as a “no strings” relationship and then calling her baby and sweetheart. it was confusing more than anything, beginning to take an emotional toll on the young woman. she felt incredibly tense the past few days, mind prickling with anxieties and insecurities, desperate to feel some type of release. 

fuck him, she thinks, standing and opening her sliding glass door, going inside, i’m gonna forget about it tonight. she stalks to her closet, i’m gonna find a hot stranger and just dance, pulling out a short, skin tight club dress and holding it in front of herself, facing the mirror. she wanted him out of mind completely, settling with trying to replace his touch with someone else’s tonight no matter how much her heart objected. she puts music on, setting the dress on her bed and undresses, studying herself in the mirror for a moment before making her way to the bathroom and turning on the shower. she takes a long while to let the hot water to melt onto her skin, cherishing the white silence of the shower head. the young woman takes her time getting ready, piecing herself back together with an extensive routine. once she’s in a robe with her hair wrapped up she walks to the fridge, grabbing a seltzer with alcohol to ease the slight oncoming nerves. she meticulously does her makeup and styles her hair, shamefully wondering if carmy would like how she’s dressed up, checking her phone to see it’s time to head over. dropping her robe and zipping into the dress she had picked out for the night, the girl examines her reflection, admiring the work she had put in. she looked hot, turning to the side and checking out her profile, curves accentuated by the tight fabric. satisfied, she mists herself with perfume and grabs her heels and purse, walking to the door. she swings the heavy metal barrier open to reveal a tepid july night, air thick with moisture. she balances against the frame, slipping into her heels and sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, stepping into the dusk of the evening and letting the door lock behind her. she glances at her phone for walking directions, head slightly fuzzy from the seltzer she had drank on an empty stomach. her short walk to the club garners many gawking stares from passerby’s, surprisingly not making her feel as small as they usually seem to, the goal was to catch eyes tonight, right? 

she squints, identifying bright flickering lights in the distance, the border of the club’s sign. there were a few people dispersed outside, all either smoking or talking on the phone, or both. she brushes her hair back, walking towards the entrance when she hears her name called from behind her. 

“- yo!” turning to see marcus and angel leaning against the brick wall of the establishment. she smiles, turning and walking towards them, the distinct odor of marijuana arising from the cigarette marcus clutched in between his thumb and pointer. 

“hi,” she grins, tilling her head slightly. 

“hey,” the two respond, almost in synchronicity. marcus holds the rolled paper to her, “want some?” 

she smiles, plucking it from his fingertips and bringing it to her lips, deeply inhaling to soften the inevitable drop her stomach would endure at the sight of carmen. the ember burns quickly, and she’s surprised at the harshness. 

she hands it back with a slow exhale, thanking marcus. 

“nervous?” angel chimes in, trying to hide a smile. the girl pauses for a moment, is it so obvious? 

“i haven’t been to a club in a while,” she responds, crossing her arms. it was partially true, but she knew the real reason for the relentless fluttering in her chest. 

the man stubs the filter onto a nearby trash can, dusting his hands off on his pants. “you guys ready to go in?”

the other man affirms, pushing himself off the wall and turning to walk to the front. the girl stays behind, hesitating. 

“you two go ahead. i’m gonna air out,” she responds, leaning back, basking in the slight breeze. the men both crack a smile before walking together to the entrance, leaving the girl in her solitude. she closes her eyes for a moment, deeply inhaling the night air, listening to the reverberation of bass through the walls of the club. she feels a cloud of haze overwhelm her, the mixture of substances seeping through her in a warm glow. she hears footsteps approach. 

“hey.”

her eyes snap open, breath escaping her at the sight of carmy. he looked polished, buttoned up into a dress shirt, hair fluffy and face cleanly shaved. she nearly salivated at his presentation, the buzz she felt complicating her decision to ignore him. 

“hi,” she shortly responds, lip slightly pouted, watching as his eyes examine her, floating down her form. he snaps his eyes away, clearing his throat. 

“you, uh, get my text?” 

she nods, looking up to him, meeting his eyes with unwavering contact. he walks closer to the girl, slightly shaking his head and furrowing his brow in confusion, an unspoken gesture to elaborate. 

she looks away, arms wrapping around herself. 

“i didn’t need a ride,” she answers, “i walked.” 

carmen’s jaw visibly tightens, feeling a twinge of irritation. 

“yeah. uh, i asked because i didn’t want you walking here alone,” he explains in a slightly frustrated tone. 

“yeah, well i made it,” she retorts, aggravation bubbling beneath the surface, “so you don’t need to worry about it.” 

she didn’t know why he was getting under her skin so easily tonight, her throat suddenly feeling hot and tight, raking her eyes over the top of his chest exposed by an open button.

“well i do,” the man argues, “i don’t want you walking by yourself. anywhere,” he solidifies in a stern tone. the girl lets out a scoff. 

“you’re acting like you’re my boyfriend,” she spits, fed up with the sense of entitlement he felt over her. 

“i’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend,” he quickly asserts, tone ringing out much harsher than he intended. 

she knows this to be a fact, but still can’t help the drop she feels in her chest when he says it aloud like that. she opens her mouth to say something, then quickly closes it, biting her lip, eyes darting to the ground. he instantly regrets saying it, brushing his fingers through his hair, grabbing it, studying the girl’s dejection with a pit in his stomach. 

“whatever, carmen,” she dismisses, shoving past him. her lungs felt tight, eyes burned, mentally cursing herself, rushing to the club entrance to distance herself from the man. she shoves the door open, immediately being engulfed by sound and swarming bodies. she blinks back a few tears, deeply inhaling and exhaling, zoning into the environment. spotting the group of her coworkers at a corner table, she shufflles through the crowd to approach them. syd immediately spots the girl, calling out to her and waving. she plasters on a smile as the rest turn to watch her, all unanimously greeting the new arrival. she makes her way over to tina, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, wishing her happy birthday. she squeezes into her seat in between sydney and richie, turning to the tall man to ask, “so where’s my drink?”

richie lets out a boisterous laugh, throwing an arm around the girl.

“i don’t think you’re gonna have much of a problem getting drinks tonight, sweetheart,” he teases, as carmy approaches the table, receiving welcomes and pulling out a chair to sit. she flickers her eyes over to carmen to find he’s staring at her, quickly tearing them back away and leaning over to syd. 

“come get a drink with me. i really need it,” she pleads, placing her hand on sydney’s forearm. the other girl agrees, the two sliding out from under the table and making their way to the bar, arms linked. 

—

why did i say that? 

he watches her rush to the front entrance, his body frozen, processing the conversation. 

why did i say that?

he begins to go after her, reaching his arm out before she swiftly maneuvers the door open, slipping inside. 

why the fuck did i say that?

it wasn’t completely untrue— he wasn’t her boyfriend— something he had failed to make entirely made clear before that point. he wasn’t oblivious to the way they had grown closer, either, the thought of her nestled deeply within a sweet spot in his heart. yet he had done nothing to prevent it from happening, and once thinking of it, he finds he’s only ever done the opposite, his behavior towards the girl falling far closer to a boyfriend than a hookup. he begins following in her footsteps, opening the club door and immediately becoming overwhelmed with the number of people crowding the floor. carmy cranes his neck, watching her figure weave through the crowd and towards a corner table. he pushes through the wall of people, seeing her take her seat, approaching the table to receive greetings from his coworkers. his eyes are trained on her, wrapped into richie’s arm, smiling until she locks eyes with him. then it drops, slightly. it makes him feel sick. he turns to fak at his right and engages in conversation as he watches her rise from the table alongside sydney. she looks like a model of some type, he thinks, with dark makeup defining her striking eyes and hair tousled over her shoulder, tight black dress riding up over the skin of her thighs. he trails down her face to her neck. when she moves her hair behind her ear he can see a small purple mark left from his teeth, eyes fully fixated on the spot. the bass of the music thumps, reverberating through the club, floorboards shaking. he tries to keep up in the table’s conversation whilst simultaneously keeping a close eye on the girl, shifting to see her order at the bar through the moving bodies. she throws a shot back, grimacing at the taste, laughing while saying something to syd (he was never very good at reading lips) and raising her hand to flag the bartender once more. the table bursts into laughter, carmen’s eyes drawing back to his coworkers, watching as tina shoves richie’s hand with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes. he feels an inclination to step outside for a smoke, head buzzing with stimulation from the lively environment, wondering how long he should stay before it would be acceptable to leave. 

“oh my gosh, thank you baby,” he hears tina say, glancing over to see the girl having returned from the bar, placing a fruity drink in front of the woman. 

she smiles, returning to her seat as the current song ends, fading into the next. sydney and the girl gasp in tandem at the distinctive opening, locking eyes with each other and grinning. 

“we’re gonna go dance!” the girl excitedly calls, taking syd by the hand and navigating towards the dance floor, crowded with moving bodies. it’s hot, but fluid, the two girls beginning to move together, grinning. carmen watches her, eyes cutting through the crowd. she moves her hips, bringing her hands up her body, flashing lights illuminating her in colors. the sight was hypnotic almost, eyes trained on her, tense in his seat. she throws her hair back, circling her body, closing her eyes. 

richie leans over to him, “you, uh, sure she did just bartending over at ricky’s?” elbowing him slightly. 

carmen doesn’t respond, eyes fixated on her gyrating movements, jaw tensing, painfully aware of all the eyes she’s gathered around the club. she continues dancing after the first two songs, even when sydney makes her way back to the table in need of rest. carmy tried to not make it so obvious he was watching the girl, grateful some of his other coworkers had joined the crowd on the dancefloor, completely entranced by her movement. he tears his gaze away, standing up find the bar, eager to ease the incredible tension he felt pent up within him. she seemed to be having fun dancing, and in a way it felt refreshing to watch the girl so loose and carefree. carmy couldn’t help the sense of possessiveness he felt, though, watching her move like that, seeing the way other men looked at her, like meat. it made him sick. 

he orders a beer once the bartender makes their way over, song fading into the next. he turns to lean against the counter, eyes searching for her as he brings the bottle to his lips with a long swig. he feels a pang in his chest, as he finds her, hand on another man’s arm, leaning to whisper something in his ear. he closely watches as the man smiles, nods, placing his hands on her hips and getting closer to her. carmen’s skin immediately becomes hot, teeth clenching, taking a deep breath through his nose to try and calm himself. 

what the fuck is she doing? 

his eyebrows furrow, watching as she dances, bringing her arms up, turning, moving against the stranger. he feels physically sick, stomach churning at the way this man was touching her navel, hips, pressing himself to the back of her. carmy tightly grips the bottle, unable to rip his eyes away, the girl glistening in the light. she throws her head back against the man’s shoulder, hair draping over him, grinding to the music. her eyes find carmen’s quickly, intentionally locking gazes as she brings the strangers hands higher, up her waist, ribs, her mouth falling opening. carmen stands, knocking the barstool off balance with the force of his movement, shoving through the crowd, disregarding the dirty looks, quickly making his way to the dance floor. he grabs the girl’s wrist, pulling her from the stranger’s grasp, tightly gripping her as he walks towards the back door, dragging her behind him, feeling the struggle of her arm as she tries to pull away. he turns, putting a hand on her lower back, ushering her through the club, shoving the heavy metal door open and bringing her outside, finally letting go when the two are far from the door. he brings a hand to his hair, grabbing, turning to face the girl. 

“what the fuck, carmen?” she yells, ripping her hand away from him, “what’s your issue?” her words slightly under-enunciated. 

he bites down on his lip, meeting her eyes, hand coming to his hip. he hardly had an explanation for the girl, driven by a redhot primal jealousy, blood boiling at the sight of someone else’s hands on her, grabbing, feeling her like that. 

“what’s my issue?” he scoffs, “why the fuck were you dancing like that?” his face reddening, pulse quickening. she lets out a laugh, leaning back against the wall, gazing up at him. 

“why?” she asks, “are you jealous?” 

he shakes his head, unconsciously stepping closer to her.

“i’m not jealous,” he argues, jaw set firmly, eyes casting down onto her. 

“yeah?” she leans forward, further closing the distance between them. he nods, fixated on the droop of her eyes, the part of her lips, the way she looked up at him through her dark lashes. 

“so what if i fuck him?” she asks softly, a smirk playing on her lips, “will you be jealous then?” 

he lets out a breath, fire growing at her words.

he shakes his head, “you’re not gonna fuck him,” asserting with confidence. she tilts her head, alcohol emboldening her. 

“how do you know?” she challenges, well aware of how affected she was by his tone, his demeanor, the look in his eyes. carmy gets closer to her face. 

“because he’s not gonna fuck you like i do,” his voice deep, low, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that lights her core ablaze. the girl finds her breath hitches, mouth going dry, gaze flickering to his lips. he rests his hand on the brick behind her, leaning closer, “hear all those pretty sounds you make.” 

she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to shake her senses of the overwhelming lust she felt. she was supposed to stay angry at him, he was being an asshole. maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs, or the way he towered over her, but she felt no anger, only replaced by want, a slick ache growing at the way he seems to claim her for himself. she takes a deep breath, body feeling as if it were buzzing, head cloudy. 

“you are so fucking confusing,” she whispers, bringing her forehead to lightly touch his. he rests his hand on her lower back, relishing in the warmth of the contact, breathing in her scent. she was completely right about him, he thinks, never saying what he really means to her. if he could have what he really wanted, she would be his, only his. a girlfriend. 

“yeah,” he takes a shaky breath, “yeah. i know,” reply coming, hesitantly. “i’m sorry, -” he breathes out, her name sounding sweet on his tongue. she blinks away the tears that want to form, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, a small tremble of the lip. she opens her mouth to say something, eyes tearfully meeting his. 

the metal door creeks open, momentarily releasing the booming music out into the alleyway, breaking the trance as a few smokers congregate by the back. the girl changes her mind, mouth shutting. she releases his shirt, pulling away, stepping around the man and smoothing her appearance, pads of her fingers coming to dry a few escaped tears. he watches her try and compose herself, shivering in her small dress. his heart clenches, feeling the overwhelming need to take care of her— wrap his arm around her, lead her back to his home, dress her in more of his clothes and watch her fall asleep. he shrugs off his light jacket, walking over to her and draping it over her shoulders without saying anything. she glances up at the man, engulfed by his warmth and the smell of him, ache in her chest. 

“i’m gonna go home,” she whispers, swaying slightly. 

“let me walk you,” he offers, hand coming to her upper back. she quickly shakes her head, taking a step away from him. 

he sighs at her stubbornness, says her name. 

“you’re drunk,” he observes, “let me make sure you get there okay.” 

she hiccups, crossing her arms. 

“ ‘m not drunk,” she slurs unconvincingly. he nods, letting out a breath, hand coming to rub his face. 

“okay,” he concedes, “then, just… go back in with me for a sec. say bye to everyone.” 

she meets his eyes, consideration running over her features, then nodding slowly. he puts his hand on the small of her back, steadying her as they walk back towards the large metal door. there’s a noticeable change in temperature difference as the two enter the club again, weaving through a sea of moving bodies, carmy holding tightly onto her, ushering her forward towards the corner table. he doesn’t miss the glances from his workers at the sight of the girl wearing his jacket, a few smiles cracked, looks exchanged. he ignores it, picks his beer back up as the girl excuses herself from the event, claiming to not feel good and chalking it up to drinking too much when she usually doesn’t partake. richie, surprisingly, says nothing, eyes trained on carmen, smirk plastered over his face. 

“i’m gonna head out too,” carmy announces, “take her home.” 

richie begins loudly laughing, clapping his hands together. 

“jesus christ, i am right about everything!” he shouts, slamming his glass down onto the table. carmen’s skin begins to prickle with embarrassment. 

“hey richie,” he chimes, “shut the fuck up.” he felt unbearably tense tonight between the day’s grueling shift, the girl dancing on another man, the newfound teasing, as if he were about to implode. he was in desperate need of some sort of release. carmy watches her, tightly clad fabric stretching over her ass as she leans down to give tina a hug. he felt guilty, almost, the way he had been shamelessly gawking at her throughout the night, the act doing nothing but intensify the burning he felt bottled up within him. 

“i’m sorry i’m leaving so early, t,” he hears from her mouth, “i don’t feel very well.” 

the older woman brushes the apology away, placing a kiss on the girl’s cheek. 

“feel better, baby,” she coos, looking to carmen, “jeff, you make sure she gets into bed okay,” the command motherly in tone. he nods, coming to give tina a side hug, “ ‘night, t. happy birthday.”

—

the sidewalk pavement was in dire need of repair, cracks and bumps literally the surface, worsening the walk for people who weren’t drunk. she stumbles over a divot, instinctively grabbing onto carmy’s arm for balance, heels catching on every small crevice. she lets out a cry of frustration, stopping in her tracks. 

“this is impossible,” she exclaims, reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel, “why don’t they fix this stupid street?” 

he can’t help the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards. she was cute, even in her frustration. he crouched, slightly, leaning over, arms out. 

“c’mere,” he tells her, “jump up.” 

she falters, trying to retain independence in her drunken stubbornness, but ultimately accepts, the other option being continually tripping over herself for another mile. she puts her hands up on his shoulders, using him as leverage to boost herself up, his arms coming to wrap around the backs of her thighs. he hears her squeal, slightly, feeling as she pulls the short dress down to cover the curve of her ass. the man grits his teeth, shaking the mental image of it as he tightly grips the supple skin of her upper thighs. she’s easy to carry, surprisingly so, as he continues walking in the direction of her apartment building. a silence settles between the two of them, breaths falling in line with the gentle rhythm of his steps. she wraps her arms around him further, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, exhale tickling his neck. he clears his throat, glancing back at the girl, seeing her closed eyes. 

“i, uh,” he hesitates, gathering his thoughts, “i fuckin’ hated seeing that guy touch you,” the confession slipping off of his tongue. he feels her smile slightly against his neck. 

“i knew you would,” her reply comes softly. he lets out a small scoff, humored by what she admits. 

“you’re a brat,” he asserts lowly, pressing his fingers into her skin. she splays her arms out, pushing her chest against his back, hand coming to rest on his bare collarbones. 

“you were being a dick,” her words ringing truthfully, resounding throughout the man, feeling a pang of guilt. 

“yeah. i know,” he agrees, eyes fixed forward, “i’m sorry.” carmen lets a cloud of silence engulf the two before vocalizing again. 

“you know, i… really do wanna be with you,” he admits gently, soul bared. she pauses, soaking in his words, feeling almost as if a puzzle piece had been pushed into place. 

“why not?” her question comes soft, sweet. he lets out a deep breath. 

“you know why,” he quietly replies, the street lamps casting their two shadows as one. she does know why, aware of the sly glances the two received, apparent judgment surrounding a relationship with the power imbalance of theirs. 

“well, i quit then,” she pouts, lips brushing against his skin, erupting him in goosebumps. he shakes his head. 

“you can’t,” comes his rejection, “we need you,” expressing the fact with utmost sincerity. she hugs her arms around him tighter, smelling his cologne, his soap, a faint trace of cigarette smoke. 

“i don’t care,” she protests in all of her stubborn glory, “i wanna be yours, carm.” 

he feels himself surrender at her words, pulling her even closer. 

“you’re mine,” he assures her, glancing back to meet her eyes, nodding, feeling warmth as if a bright light glowed from his chest. they can figure out the details later— he genuinely didn’t want her to quit, trying to remind himself it was the only way their relationship would be ethical. the man slows in pace as they approach the front of her building, letting the girl hop down, holding his hand out to steady her once her feet make contact with the ground. she gives a small smile, intertwining her arm with his, hand coming to rest on the mass of muscle as the two make their way to her building. she clutches onto him in her inebriated state as they scale the tall stairs leading up to her door. she fumbles with her keys, eventually unlocking the deadbolt and pushing the door open. she turns to face him, giving him sort of a puppy dog look, hoping he’ll want to follow her in. a smile breaks his face, studying her expression. 

“i, uh, gotta make sure you get in bed okay,” he reminds her, gesturing inside. she grins, taking his hand, pulling him inside and shutting the door. the space was illuminated with strung lights, warm in hue, mystifying the room. he takes a deep breath, wrapped in her intoxicating scent, eyes scanning the room. he primarily notices how pristine it is, cozy, fragments of her soul framed over the walls and resting on shelves. it felt like a home, more than his ever has. she sets her keys and purse on a side table, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief, trudging to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses of water. when she hands it to him he can’t help but stare, focusing on her face, the ache for her insurmountable to anything he’s ever wanted before. he sets the glass down, hand coming to her lower back, deeply looking into her, past her beauty and towards her essence. he watches as her eyes flicker down to his lips, quickly coming back to meet his gaze. he’s in awe of her, almost, bringing both hands to the small of her back, squeezing her slightly, pulling her to him with ease. she lets out a breath at the action, hand coming to his forearm, feeling the flex of his tendons. he wants her all to himself, he thinks, leaning in towards her, raising his hand to cup the side of her face. she leans into the touch, turning, pressing a kiss to the base of his thumb, bringing her other hand to rest on his, biting the skin. he grasps her face at this, shoving his thumb into her mouth. 

“suck,” he commands, voice low, watching in anticipation as she brings her lips around the digit, tongue circling eagerly, trying to take more of it into her mouth. he nearly falls apart at the sight, twitching, pulling her flush against him, dragging his thumb out of her mouth and over her bottom lip. he drops his hand to touch her neck, watching her lips, hearing his heart pound in his ears. she brings her grip to clutch onto his shirt, heavily breathing. he cherishes her expression, cheeks flushed and lips parted, glistening. carmen tightens his hand around her throat very slightly, leaning in to taste her, his lips gently pressing against hers, hearing her moan at the unexpected contact. she’s sweet, soft, eager, the slightest trace of alcohol on her lips. he hadn't realized how much he had been craving her taste until it graced his tongue, feeling almost as if a tension in him had alleviated. he wants more, tattooed fingers wrapping around her neck, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss. she melts into him, trying to keep up with the ferocity of his kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth. he groans, bringing his hand from her back to the curve of her ass, feeling, squeezing, pulling her in. he takes his hand off her throat, her leg slightly lifts, and he takes the opportunity to hoist it up over his hip, turning and pressing her into the counter, weight of his body against hers. it feels as if something had snapped within him, wanting to claim her all to himself, grabbing whatever he can of her, getting as close as possible, lips, tongues dancing in tandem. he presses a few slow kisses to her mouth, pulling away, forehead coming against hers, eyes shut. he listens to the sound of their breath, hand on her ass, fingers teasing the hem of her panties. she arches into his touch, body tingling, hot with desire. his hand comes up, then flies back down to smack her ass, the girl takes a sharp breath, firmly gripping it again after the impact. 

“fuck,” she breathes, a hot swell in her lower stomach. he creeps his hand up the skin of her thigh, slipping under her dress, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs. her face grows hot at the way he takes command, shoving at the fabric until it slides down her calves and hits the floor. she steps out of them, breath shaky, drenched in anticipation, insides of her thighs growing wet. carmy gives her a final kiss before dropping to his knees in front of her, placing a few gentle kisses around her skin. she instinctively clamps her thighs at the sensation, the man bringing his hand to shove her leg to the side, exposing her glistening heat. he lets out a soft moan at the sight, closer than he’s ever been to her core, leaning forward to softly kiss her clit. the girl lets out a cry of surprise, hand flying to his head, the simple act sending a shock throughout her body. he brings his thumb and pointer finger to part her both of her lips, taking her image in, salivating slightly in anticipation. he casts his eyes up towards her face, flushed, mouth open. he leans forward, licking a long stripe up her wetness to her clit, swirling his tongue around the bud, pulling away. she pants, fingers tangled in his hair, arching towards him, wordlessly asking for more. he groans at the taste of her, a rush to his head, his cock, immediately diving in for more, lapping at her as if she’s the finest thing he’s had in his mouth. her knees begin to go weak, trembling slightly, trying to hold onto him for support. 

“carmy,” she whimpers, “i can’t stand.” 

this breaks his focus, bringing his eyes up to her with a glint. 

“yeah?” he asks, “feel too good, baby?” a smirk growing on his face. she refuses to respond, tightly shutting her eyes and throwing her head back when he brings his thumb to slowly circle her clit, watching, gauging her reaction. he pulls his hand away, placing a small smack on the inside of her thigh, the girl gasping. 

“answer me” he growls, breath tickling her mound, leaning to press a few more kisses to her swollen heat. she lets out a whine, grabbing his hair. 

“it feels- fuck it feels so good carm,” she shakily admits, knees nearly buckling. satisfied with her answer he brings both hands to the base of her ass, lifting her with ease and setting her on the countertop. she hastily grabs his shirt and pulls him in, locking lips and tasting herself on his tongue, letting a sweet sound into his mouth. he breaks away, desperate to feel her wetness on his mouth again. he kisses the inside of her thigh, then leans in, flattening his tongue against her clit, gently lapping, a finger coming to tease her pooling entrance. she unintentionally bucks her hips at the sensation, prompting carmen to bring the length of his forearm to her inner thigh, shoving it open, holding her down. she brings her eyes to his tattooed arm splaying her open, heart pounding, trying to straighten herself, awaiting his touch. he continues his gentle licks, circling his finger around her wetness, then pushing the digit into her slowly, eyes darting up to watch her mouth fall open. he swirls his tongue around her engorged clit, then gently sucks, curling his finger deeply inside of her, beginning to establish a rhythmic motion. her pants turn to cries, pulling the man in by his curls. his hand grips the skin of her thigh, spreading her open, devouring her, pushing a second finger into her. her teeth clamp down onto her lip at the sensation, gripping around his digits, trying hard to keep her composure in front of the man. carmy, aware of this, increases the pace of his movement, pulling his mouth away from her, beginning to tease her clit with a feather-like touch of his tongue. her head falls back, smacking against the cabinet, a loud moan slipping through her lips. 

“please,” she pleads, not sure for what, arching into carmen’s motion, hands grabbing whatever she can of him, the knot inside her stomach growing impossibly tight. he wants to feel her cum— clench around his fingers, see how long he can keep fucking into her until it’s too much— but he refrains, pulling his fingers out, soaked with her juices, standing up. her head jerks up to meet his eyes, panting, flushed, frustrated. 

“whyy?” she whines, trying to pull the man back to her. he lets out a scoff, smirk creeping at the edges of his lips, hands on the tops her thighs, gripping. 

“you think i’m gonna let you cum?” he asks, voice low, coming close to her face, “after that shit you pulled in the club?” 

her lip pouts, face heating at his words, held down by his weight, trying to catch her breath. the girl opens her mouth to argue back, but decides against it, just wanting to feel him— leaning forward to kiss him softly, hungrily, hands coming to feel the muscles of his chest. he melts into the kiss, hands wrapping around her back. 

“you don’t care, huh?” carmy teases between kisses, “just want me to keep touchin’ you,” pressing himself between her thighs, deepening their contact. she nods into the kiss, greedily reaching her hands down to pull his shirt up. he pulls away from her, taking it off completely, groaning as the girl runs her hands up his bare abdomen, then gently rakes her nails down, admiring the way his muscles flex under her touch. he grows a bit impatient, decides to pick her up, her legs coming to wrap around his back, carrying her to the bedroom. she grins at the way he holds her, hands gripping both of her ass cheeks, leaning down to kiss his neck in the short walk. when he drops her onto the plush duvet of her bed he leans over her, fingers grasping the side zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down to reveal the skin of her ribcage, waist, stopping right above her hip. they lock eyes and he searches her face for any signs of hesitation, finding only blown pupils and flushed cheeks. he grabs the hem of the dress, slowly pulling it down her body to expose her breasts, waist, stomach, pelvis, letting the fabric fall over her ankles to the floor. his eyes drink her in, sparks firing in his brain, bringing his hands to grasp her waist, thumbs resting over her stomach. carmy leans in, deeply kissing her, savoring her warmth, then rises, unbuckling his belt. she props herself up onto her elbows, watching the man slowly unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down. she lets out a heavy breath at the sight of the large bulge behind his briefs, straining against the cotton, curved upwards to the right. she sits up, inching towards the edge of the bed, seated in front of the man, gazing up at him in adoration. 

“can i take these off?” she asks softly, fingers coming to hook into his briefs, pulling them slightly to reveal the deep v-line in his hips, light brown hair leading down to his covered pubic bone. her mouth was almost watering, looking up at him in anticipation. he grins at her eagerness, raising his eyebrows slightly, nodding his head, giving her permission to slip the waistband down over his hips, cock slapping against his stomach when she does so. she immediately grabs the length of his dick, heavy in her hand, giving it a few slow strokes, watching as he closes his eyes, breathing out heavily. her head feels fuzzy, wanting nothing more than for him to shove her back onto the bed and fill her completely, continuing to marvel at his thickness. he brings his hand to stroke the side of her face, fingers coming over her ear and threading through her hair, watching intently as she slowly jerks him off. she clenches her thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the growing ache, running out of patience. 

“carm,” she whines, gripping his cock, gazing up at him, handsome face framed by a few messy curls, “i want it already.” 

he lets a small smirk grace his face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. 

“yeah?” he asks, watching the girl quickly nod, bringing his face closer to his, lowering his voice, “you know i’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you tonight, right?” 

she heats at his words, eyes widening, an expectant shiver making it’s way through her body and settling throughout her core. he doesn’t let her respond, grabbing her thighs and pulling her, back coming to the mattress, pelvis flush with his. he bends her legs into her chest, leaning over her, the tip of his cock briefly gracing her wetness before he brings his hand down to grip himself, running the tip through her slick folds, sliding up to nudge her clit. she tightly shuts her eyes, lets out a quiet moan at the sensation— almost enough to satisfy, but not quite. he continues thrusting through her folds, listening to the wet sounds, coating himself in her juices. she tries to resist the urge but she can’t, reaching down, grabbing his cock and sticking it inside of her, legs coming to wrap around his back to pull him in. 

“fuckk,” he exclaims loudly, not expecting her desperation, suddenly engulfed in her warmth. he groans, trying to compose himself, bringing his hand to her throat, leaning in, pushing his hips forward to the hilt. she whimpers, cherishing the slight burn of fullness as he tightens his grip around her throat. 

“this what you wanted?” he asks, voice gruff, fully draped over her, nuzzling a kiss under her ear. the way he speaks to her ignites a flame, emboldening her slightly. her eyes gleam. 

“no,” she breathes, “i want you to fuckin’ move,” words laced with a tone. he lets out a short laugh, straightening, grabbing both her calves and propping them up over his shoulders, drawing out of her and then quickly snapping his hips forward. she gasps, hand flying up to her mouth. she feels the ridge of his head drag against her walls as he graciously begins to thrust into her, hands wrapped around her legs, eyes coming to watch her breasts bounce in time with his rhythm. her hand falls away from her mouth, a loud cry pouring from her lips. carmen revels in the sound as he continuously drives his hips forward, skin slapping against hers, gripping her left calf, turning to press a kiss into her ankle. his pace begins to satiate the relentless burn within her core, trying to take his length as deeply as possible.

“so good,” she whimpers, bringing her hands to her breasts, squeezing. carmy groans, slapping her outer thigh. 

“where’d that attitude go?” he asks, pelvis flush against her, pulling closer, “huh?” 

her brows furrow, opening her mouth to argue but falling short, a breathy moan replacing her words at the sensation of him deeply fucking into her. her body feels incredibly hot, nipples perked beneath her fingers, feeling herself approaching an edge. he grins, moving his hand to grip at her thigh, eyes scanning over the sight in front of him. 

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her, hips stuttering, trying to push away his quickly approaching orgasm. he pulls out of her, the girl’s eyes shooting open to object. carmy takes hold of her forearms, pulling her to stand, grabbing her hips and turning her around, pushing her forward. her knee comes to the bed, balanced on her other leg as he wraps his arm around her waist, hand on her ribcage and inserts himself back into her tightness. 

“yes,” she cries, arching back against him and bringing her hand onto his arm, feeling the head of his cock thrust deeply upwards. the tingling in her core grows stronger; her head falls back onto his shoulder. carmen grunts, his free hand coming to find her clit, rubbing small, soft circles, feeling himself unravel at the intense pulse of her walls. he kisses her cheek, relentlessly pounding into her, the crescendo of her moans driving him higher and higher. his lips come right next to her ear, breath ragged. 

“you my girl?” he asks, another kiss on the side of her face, bringing his hand from her ribs to her breast, gently squeezing. 

she nods quickly, arm coming behind her to grab his hip, feeling him, tangible beneath her fingers. 

“all yours,” she pants, “i’m all yours, carm.” 

he groans at the sentiment, bottoming out inside of her, quickly circling her clit as her arousal grows slick on his fingers. she feels herself tumbling towards her edge, trying to physically hold onto him so as to not climax, fingers gripping into his skin. 

“i’m-,” a cry falls from her mouth. he pulls the two even closer, wetness pouring from her at the continual thrusts, feeling the cues of her body approaching climax.

“let it go, baby,” he coos, lips pressed against her ear. with his simple command she feels an intense heat envelop her body, orgasm crashing against her like a wave. she goes limp in his arms so he grabs her tighter, bending her over the bed. her thighs begin to shake as carmen relentlessly snaps his hips, watching her intently, feeling a white hot pleasure seep through him. he’s ferociously grabbing at her, pulling her in as he approaches his edge, stutter of his hips as he bottoms out and releases himself into her with a loud groan. she feels the pressure of his cum against her walls, intense heat diffusing as she rides out the shocks of her orgasm. he collapses over her, hand coming to the bed, trying not to put his full weight upon her. their labored breaths harmonize, hearts pounding. carmy runs a hand over her lower back, soothingly rubbing the limp girl. he pushes himself up, straining to grab a tissue off her nightstand to clean with, the act of pulling out of her releasing a constant pressure, the girl whimpering. he soaks up the mess of cum dripping down her legs, drinking in the sight, then rises to throw the tissues away. she’s able to muster the energy to push herself up and stumble behind him, walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower, steadying her shaky legs by holding onto the wall. she turns to see the man, naked in all his glory, approach her, placing his hands on her hips and leaning in to kiss her deeply. she seeps into his touch, hand coming to graze his lower stomach, exhaling slowly. he lets a peace wash over the two before speaking. 

“so, uh, i’ll take this as your two weeks notice, then?” he teases, hand falling to her low back. she tilts her head to the side. 

“what? you mean i don’t get a promotion after that?” she asks, smiling, trying to feign disappointment, “fuck.”

he grins, adoringly gazing down at the young woman, bathing in the light of her smile. 

he knew it was never supposed to go so far. it was never supposed to end up in this position, with her leaning in for another kiss, him greedily accepting. she was his completely now, the man making a vow to never let anything or anyone hurt her, cherishing the feeling of her warmth under his fingertips. 

it was never supposed to go so far, but it did. and he was so fucking glad it did. 

—

eeeek i hope you liked it!! i genuinely enjoyed writing this story so much. an epilogue to wrap up some loose ends is possible in the future- in the meantime i'll be posting some steamy carmy headcannons.

please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! thank you SO MUCH to everyone for the continued support on this series <3

[megalony]

He's Safe

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine requested by Anon, I hope you like it thank you for the detailed idea. I'm trying to get through all the Eddie requests in my inbox.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefanthefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @missdreamofendless

911 Masterlist

Summary: Whilst on a trip to the park, (Y/n) encounters someone trying to lure away her son, Chris and she hurries to get him back. Suddenly, the park doesn't feel so safe anymore.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips and she rolled her eyes playfully when she looked down. She could feel Christopher's hands pawing at her hips and reaching up to her arms, desperately trying to take the phone out of her hand and snatch it for himself.

He nudged his nose against her arm and whined, trying again to take the phone from her because he knew who was on the other end. "Dad, I've got to go soon and Chris wants to speak to you. Here, talk to grandad." (Y/n) lowered the phone down and let Chris paw at it, squealing brightly when he held it out and saw his grandad on Facetime.

He pulled out one of the dining room chairs and perched himself down, keeping both hands tightly held onto the phone that he pulled very close to his face so he could see the picture. He hadn't spoken to him since last week and he recognised his voice on the phone straight away. As soon as Chris realised who (Y/n) was talking to, he followed her around the house to try and get the phone from her.

It never mattered who was on the phone, it was usually Eddie and Chris always whined until he got the phone but when it was grandad who lived hundreds of miles away, Chris went mad for the phone.

"Pops, it's me!"

"I know, move the phone back so I can see my handsome young man," Andrew squinted at the screen until Chris finally relented and pulled it back so he was fully in view of the camera and not just his glasses. "There you are! You've grown, haven't you?"

"No," Chris started to laugh and moved his hand to bite down on his thumb as he slumped back in his chair.

"Are you looking after mummy for me?" He lowered his voice and moved his glasses so he could see his grandson a bit clearer. Before they made the big move down to LA, (Y/n) had spent over an hour teaching her dad how to use Facetime on his phone. She didn't want Chris to miss out seeing him or for her dad not to see her or Eddie and Chris.

"Yeah, we going to park, play on swings." Chris had already gotten his shoes on, he was just waiting for (Y/n) to pack her bag ready.

He tilted his head to the side and watched with a grin as (Y/n) slung her bag on her shoulder and walked towards him. She had packed his emergency EpiPen and some snacks for a picnic. (Y/n) always had a change of clothes for emergencies, a teddy and his noise-cancelling headphones in case he got too overwhelmed out in public.

"Ooh, the swings. Not as good as the swings here at Pop's house, eh? Is daddy going?" As soon as Chris started to walk- which was a bit later than normal as his motor skills were delayed- Andrew had gotten a play set in the garden. Two simple swings, a see-saw and a red slide, but it was like a jungle gym to Chris and he loved going to visit his grandad and playing in the garden with him for hours. They were very close.

"No daddy today,"

"No?"

"Eddie's at work dad, he's gotten a few extra shifts this month." (Y/n) leaned down and kissed the top of Chris's head, smiling at her dad on the screen who leaned closer as if it would zoom in the image on his phone.

"I feel like I haven't seen Edmundo in ages, is he alright?"

"Don't worry we're all fine, and don't call him that you know he doesn't like it," She rose her brow sternly at her dad who simply shrugged and grinned at Chris who was in fits of giggles.

He always called Eddie by his full name just because he knew it made Eddie feel like he was back at school and in Andrew's naturally deep voice, it made him feel like he was in trouble. They had a close bond, closer than what Eddie felt with his own father and therefore gaming and trickery was also blended in with their bond.

"We have to go now but I'll call you later, love you."

"Alright, you look after her for me young man, I love you both."

"Bye pops." Chris lifted the phone to hand it back to (Y/n) so she could wave and end the call. Grandad had always been something that was too hard for Chris to say and his delayed speech didn't help matters, but he had found it very easy to say pops. And that had stuck ever since Chris learned to talk. It wasn't easy finding birthday and Christmas cards that still said pops on them which was why (Y/n) tended to make a lot of the cards Chris sent to his grandad.

"Come on then, let's get going to the park."

(Y/n) wrapped an arm around Chris's shoulders a he slipped his hands into his crutches and they left the house. It was a long walk to the park even when Chris varied his speed and sometimes zoomed all the way there, but it was good exercise for him. And if he got too tired they caught the bus back and Chris loved to people-watch.

"We go see pops soon?" He tilted his head up, flashing his signature cheeky smile at his mum as they rounded the corner onto the next street.

"He's going to come down and visit us soon for the first time, you can show him your room."

They had taken a trip back to Texas two months ago to visit her dad, more specifically to give him the news in person that he was going to have another grandchild soon. (Y/n) couldn't tell him over the phone or Facetime, it was something she had to do in person like the first time when they had been expecting Chris. And it meant Chris could see him after six months away from him.

And it had already been agreed and in motion that Andrew was going to come down and stay with them at the end of the pregnancy so he could be there when his second grandchild was born. It meant Chris could show him the house and his room and his school and all the new places he had visited since moving down here.

"School, can show him school,"

"Course you can, he'll be so proud of you."

Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around Chris's shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek making him giggle. She stayed curved around him until they reached the park they always came to.

Chris liked this park the most because it had proper swings, ones that weren't lopsided or broken or had squeaking, rusty chains. And they had a big oval net swing that he loved to sit in and sway around on. (Y/n) always made sure that if they came to the park, they had the whole afternoon free because it was hard to get Chris to leave and it tired him out if they stayed for a while.

"What are we going on first?"

"Slide," Chris moved to the bench near the left of the play area and let his crutches drop down in front of it. It was a routine to always leave his crutches in the corner so he could meddle and trot around the park and then grab them when they were ready to leave.

(Y/n) followed him to the slide and kept one hand on his back as he climbed up the steps. They were thin and steep and (Y/n) didn't like to let him climb them alone in case he wobbled or slipped down. As soon as he slid down, he was clapping his hands and a bright, bubbly expression came to his face and he went for a second go.

This was the part (Y/n) loved, when Chris would start to gear up and get riddled with excitement for letting off his energy. He gained a lot of sensory feel from being at the park, especially the roundabout which had a small rainbow bench to sit on and it didn't go very fast because it was old. It was perfect for Chris so he didn't feel too sick or dizzy, a great amount of stimulation.

"Swing,"

It was clear by his voice that he was the tiniest bit annoyed that the big net swing was in use already. That was the one he wanted to go on, but the normal swings were free and they would do until Chris could get on the other one.

Reaching over when they got to the swings, (Y/n) hoisted him up onto the seat, making sure he was holding on tight before she started to push him. Chris did help a bit, he swung his legs around and leaned forward a lot to stim, but he was starting to get heavy now he was eight.

"Higher mummy!" Chris tilted his head back to try and look at (Y/n) and his grin widened when (Y/n) tugged the chain back before giving a bit more oomph into her push. If he could, Chris would swing higher and higher until he could touch the clouds and fly with the birds.

He loved it when he had both his dad and his grandad with him at the park because his grandad would stand in front of him and his dad would tilt him back and swing him higher. They would egg each other on and give (Y/n) a fright with how high they could get Chris to go. He knew his mum was a bit more cautious, but she always tried to get him higher and higher.

(Y/n) took a step to the left and caught her breath back, moving her left hand to her protruding stomach while she kept nudging Chris forwards every time he flew back near her. He was as high as she could get him now and he was stimming so much she barely had to push to keep the momentum going.

He started to nod his head back and forth and squealed happily after about five minutes of full-on swinging. But then he started to squeal and jump up and down on the seat until (Y/n) pulled on the chains and slowed him down before he fell off.

"Baby, what are-"

"Swing! Mummy swing," He jumped off as soon as she stopped the swing and she saw where he was heading.

The net swing was free and Chris was determined to get to it first. Even without his crutches, he was as fast as lightning, arms stretched out and legs kicking rapidly to reach the black and blue roped swing.

He grabbed it and leaned his tummy on the rope edge, laughing at his triumph although there were only two other parent and children here at the park.

"Alright baby, up we go."

Holding his hips, (Y/n) lifted him up and watched him shimmy into the middle and flop onto his bum. He slouched back, half sitting, half laying back and held onto the tough rope edge to keep steady like he always did.

The moment (Y/n) started to push the swing, Chris shuffled down and laid on his back with his knees bent up and his arms stretched out holding the rope. His mouth hung open in a wide grin and he stared up at the clouds overhead, watching how the colours and shapes changed as he moved. And every time the swing went forward, he caught a glimpse of his mum behind him, sticking her tongue out and pulling funny faces at him just to see him laugh.

(Y/n) could feel her arms starting to flag and her lungs burned from how long Chris had been sat in the swing. If he could, she knew he would stay here all day.

It was such a sensory feel for him to be swaying like this, feeling the breeze on his skin and the way his head felt woozy and tilted back and forth. His tummy rumbled up and down and he loved it, like he was going up and down hills on a bumpy car ride. He had been in the swing for ages by now and it was starting to get tiring for (Y/n).

"Sweetheart, let's go have our picnic now."

"No. Swing, mummy swing," Chris stayed laid down in the swing, even when (Y/n) let it naturally slow to a stop.

"I'm starting to get tired and the baby is getting hungry. I promise you can come back on this one before we leave."

He sat up with a grin and nodded, holding out his arms so she could pick him up and settle him down on his feet again. As long as he could have another turn later, he wouldn't make a fuss. (Y/n) only hoped she could get him off the swing later when it was time to leave. Eddie normally distracted him with something if he wouldn't be agreeable.

Last time they had all been at the park, Eddie pretended he got an important phone call and started to walk away. Chris soon hopped off the swing and followed after him to find out who he was talking to. Distracting was always the best way to go about getting Chris to finish a game or project or get ready to go home if he was in one of his stubborn moods.

Once he was on his feet, Chris pointed to the bench where his crutches were and started off to go sit down.

"Baby one second," (Y/n) turned back and leaned over to grab her bag that she had slumped down next to the swing pole. It had gotten hard pushing Chris, carrying the heavy shoulder bag and the six-month bump weighing down on her abdomen.

She grabbed the bag from the floor and quickly rummaged around to find the pack up box she'd stuffed in there earlier. She did remember the juice box didn't she?

Her fingers curled around the rectangle juice box and she smiled to herself; all Hell would break loose if she forgot that. But when her eyes lifted and she took a few steps in the direction of the bench, she frowned.

Where was Chris?

Her feet paused mid-walk and her hand tightened around the juice box as her eyes scanned round. He knew they were having their picnic now, why was he pushing his luck trying to go on another game before dinner? Her eyes immediately went to the slide, but it was empty. The roundabout was in use but Chris wasn't on it, nor was he waiting near it or approaching the man to ask him if he could also get on the roundabout.

Just as (Y/n) felt a cold hand curling around her heart and fear gripping her neck, her eyes set on the all too familiar mop of brown curls.

There he was, but who was he with?

He was leaving the park. A couple were standing on either side of him, a woman holding his hand and a man with his hand on Chris's back, both of them guiding him. Who the Hell were they? What did they think they were doing?

It wasn't anyone (Y/n) knew, none of her friends would just straight up walk Chris away from her, they weren't that cruel or stupid to panic her like that. And (Y/n) didn't have any family here in LA, the only family she had were Chris and her father and he was back in Texas. And most of Eddie's family, apart from his Abuela, were all in Texas too and that certainly wasn't Abuela guiding Chris away.

Someone was taking him.

"Christopher!" His name flew past her lips in a desperate shout, knowing he always answered answered or at least looked at her when she used his full name on him. And as she expected, his head turned to the right in her direction. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning or crying or pulling one of his unnerved faces either. His head tilted to the side and his lips pursed before he reached an arm out as if wanting to signal to her that he wanted to be with her, not whoever was talking to him.

(Y/n) set off in a run. Despite the burning in her lungs, the weight in her abdomen or the dread in her stomach that made her feel sick, she ran faster than she ever had. Her feet cut into the tarmac leaving indents in her wake and her heels scuffed against the grass when she left the tarmac park and aimed over the green for her boy.

They had noticed her, they started to walk quicker, trying to drag Chris along with them but he was now confused.

Panicked repetitions of 'mummy' and 'nope' left his lips, telling (Y/n) he was uneasy and starting to get distressed.

"Christopher! Stop!" A flurry of words past (Y/n)'s lips until she was screaming his name in a mix of 'get off' and 'fire'. It had always been drilled into (Y/n) that if she was in a bad situation and wanted bystander attention, she should shout something strange like fire because it attracted panic and attention whereas people sometimes ignored 'help'.

She wasn't sure what to do when she got close to them, did she grab Chris and pull back? Did she try and tackle the two of them down? Did she punch and kick and hit them to get them away from her precious son? What on Earth was she supposed to do in a situation like this?

She couldn't slow herself down when she reached their fast pace and all (Y/n) could manage to do was turn to her side and barell her shoulder into the woman's back, effectively knocking her down to her knees.

(Y/n) could feel stars forming in front of her eyes and her trembling arms baracaded around Chris and coiled him to her chest. His fingers dug into her arm and he leaned his head into her cleavage, pushing as close to her protruding stomach as he could manage. He went to jelly in his mother's arms and let her drag him two feet back until the man had no choice but to let go of Chris and take a cautious step away.

"What were you doing with my son? Who the Hell are you?!" Her shaking hand moved up to fist in Chris's curls and she kissed his forehead, swaynig unsteadily on her feet.

She could feel eyes watching them and a few murmurs started to get louder as bypassers noticed the scene unfolding.

"What were you doing?!" She almost screamed at them, shaking with fury despite feeling Chris dig his nails into her arm and whimper into her chest. She was frightening him, he didn't understand what was happening or why she was angry. Was she angry at him? Had he done something wrong? Why was everyone upset and confusing?

"Nothing, nothing."

"Who are you? You clearly wanted my son for something- For fuck's sake!" (Y/n) stomped her foot down like an angered child when the couple took off in a sprint across the green.

They tried to kidnap him. There was no other explanation for them hurrying away with him and then fleeing when (Y/n) caught up with them and demanded to know what they were up to. Why Chris? Why choose Chris of the few other children at the playground? Why try and take a child from his mother when he was clearly happy and safe? Why take a child with special needs? They had to know they wouldn't be able to look after him or know his needs and wants.

If they took him and gave him food with milk in he could have had an allergic reaction and if they didn't have his EpiPen he could of died.

They could have gotten so much further with him if (Y/n) didn't look up quickly enough. They could have passed through the bushes and got into a car and fled with him. (Y/n) might not have gotten him back.

"Mummy…?"

Everything started to spin until (Y/n) had no choice but to drop down onto her knees on the grass and steady herself on Chris.

Her hands moved to cup his face and she kissed his cheek before she smoothed her fingers over his skin, looking for any sign of injury or distress. They didn't have time to hurt him but they could have threatened him or frightened him in some way before she got to them.

"Baby are you alright? What were they doing, what did they say to you?" Her hands smoothed up and down his arms and over his chest at least three times until she was satisfied he wasn't hurt.

"They had choc cookie, gave me one." Chris reached out to point towards the cookie he dropped a few feet away when they rushed him to walk.

"They offered you cookies?"

"Hm, said go with them and get cookies… said they were friends. Why you crying?"

When Chris brushed his finger beneath her eye and rubbed away a tear, (Y/n) couldn't stop herself from bursting into tears. She wound her arms back around his waist and pulled him into her chest, repeatedly kissing his cheek to try and calm herself down.

"Baby, oh baby… we don't take stuff from strangers, you're not in trouble I promise, they just scared mummy. Some people aren't very nice, you just stay with me or daddy, whoever brings you out, you stay with them. Okay?"

Chris didn't have stranger awareness. He thought everyone he met could be a friend. He loved all the people at station 118, he thought of them all as family and friends and he was always saying hello to people in the street or asking people if he could pet their dogs. He didn't grasp that there were some people who weren't to be trusted, Chris gave trust willingly because it was the kind of loving heart he was.

"Miss, miss are you okay? We're on the phone to the police…"

(Y/n) looked over at a young couple who were stood a few feet away, pointing to their phone. They heard the commotion and dialled for the police to be safe, it certainly looked like a kidnapping in broad daylight.

"We're okay… they didn't hurt him. Thank you,"

She wasn't waiting around for the police. Not yet, not right now when Chris was unsettled and confused and she felt like she was going to be sick. (Y/n) wanted to go home. She wanted to be safe inside her own home with the doors locked and Chris within her sights.

She wanted Eddie.

She could go to the police station tomorrow and tell them what happened, but not right now.

"Come on baby, we're going home now."

"No, picnic and swings," Chris pointed over towards the park but (Y/n) could barely hear him over the blood pounding in her ears. They weren't staying, not for anything. (Y/n) wasn't staying here and risking those people coming back or seeing her and Chris and following them home. She was frightened beyond belief and she was going straight home.

"No baby, home now."

(Y/n) didn't wait for a response or Chris's confused reply, she hooked her arms around his middle and lifted him up off his feet. The sickness bubbling in her stomach died down a little when she felt her son's arms curl around her neck and his legs hooked around her hips. With her bump in the way, (Y/n) had to sit him lower down on her hip than normal and it meant Chris had one leg twitching and swinging against her bum but she didn't care.

His heavy weight was calming and soothing in her arms, it told her that he was okay and she hadn't lost him.

She kept her eyes on the floor to avoid the concerned gazes of the few other parents in the park who didn't seem to dare approach or ask what was going on. She balanced Chris on her hip and leaned down to grab his crutches before she set off in a brisk walk home.

After ten minutes, Chris started to become very heavy but (Y/n) didn't dare let him go just yet. She rubbed her hand up and down his back when he started to hum and nuzzle his face into her neck. He wanted to stim, he was clearly anxious but being cuddled and carried like this was calming him down at the same time.

By the time they reached home, (Y/n) felt like she was about to keel over and collapse. Her lungs were starved of oxygen, her mind was fuzzy and the rest of her body was aching. But she juggled her bag, Chris and his crutches as she stumbled into the house and bolted the door behind her.

Her arms went numb when she finally let Chris drop down to his feet and her back clicked horribly when she straightened up. She shouldn't have carried him all the way home or walked as fast as she did but even catching the bus didn't feel safe. All (Y/n) wanted was to be home safe and sound with her boy.

"Let's get your dinner sorted," She guided Chris into the living room and let him put on the tv while she got the picnic out of her bag. She set the box down with all his snacks and sandwiches in and got his juice box ready.

While she was there, (Y/n) took out the dinosaur toy she took out with her for an emergency and placed it next to him on the sofa.

(Y/n) let herself drop down into the armchair and she slumped down like she was about to slide down to the floor. Her trembling hands moved to cover her face and she took shallow breaths, forcing away the tears so she didn't upset or disturb Chris. She needed to call Eddie, she had to talk to him and tell him what had happened and hope that his voice would calm her down enough to get through the day until he came home tonight.

She could see Chris wasn't going to eat all of his lunch, he was picking and choosing what to nibble on when he usually ate everything in sections. Sandwich first, then fruit, then biscuits but he was diving in taking bites of everything and throwing them back down, half eaten and unfinished. He wasn't happy, he was unsettled and worried and (Y/n) couldn't do anything to make him feel better. She had ruined his routine and he couldn't understand why.

"Here, look, have some music for a while baby while I go tidy up. You can have a bubble bath soon and a pamper afternoon, how about that?"

It was a relief when he seemed to smile at the idea although he didn't say anything.

He stayed still and let (Y/n) find his dinosaur headphones and she slipped them over his ears and turned on his Ipod. In an instant Chris got up and grabbed his toy and started to shimmy and sway to the upbeat music blasting through his ears. Music was always a sure fire way to calm him down and make him feel better.

(Y/n) stood in the corner of the kitchen near the fridge and got her phone out, making sure she could still keep Chris within her sights.

"Ola mi amor, everything okay?"

"Can you talk for a minute?" (Y/n) knew he could hear the way her voice broke and she pressed her hand against her mouth to smother a cry. She didn't want Chris to hear and become panicked or for her to lose her control on the phone to Eddie and panic him at work. She shouldn't even be calling him right now but she had to before she went insane.

"Mi amor what's happened, are you alright?"

"We went to the park… I looked away for one minute, that was it just a minute I swear and, a- someone tried t-to take Chris."

"Take him? What do you mean take him, like grab him and run?" Eddie raked a hand through his hair as he felt his lungs shrivelling up. "Fuck! Where are you, is he alright? Baby, fuck talk to me baby-"

"They offered him cookies, he was confused, I- I shouted and t-they tried to leave with him. I got him, I grabbed him and they ran off. Eddie if I was two seconds later, I…" Tears burned down her face as another sob got stuck in her throat. It was frightening to think that two mere seconds could have lost her Chris. Two seconds later and (Y/n) would be having a whole other conversation with Eddie.

She would have been calling him, frantic and screaming that someone had snatched their son and she couldn't find him. An extra second or two would have lost Chris and he could have gotten hurt or traumatised.

"But you're both alright, aren't you?"

"We're okay, he's upset, he doesn't know why I brought him home early. I'm sorry if I've freaked you out but I couldn't, I needed to talk to you, I don't know what to do."

"Do you need me to come home, cos I can tell Cap and leave right now- I am, I'm coming home, fuck this. I'm leaving-" He didn't want to stay on shift now she had told him what happened. Eddie wanted to run home to his wife and son and make sure they were alright. He wanted them in his arms to reassure himself that Chris was truly okay and didn't feel upset about what he had gone through. And he wanted his wife pulled into his chest so he could calm her down.

"No, baby no don't leave. You don't have long left, don't, it's not an emergency. I swear he's fine, he might have a meltdown later, he's stimming like mad but he is okay."

(Y/n) could see the way Chris was stimming right now, he was becoming frantic with how he was waving his free hand out at his side and rocking back and forth so bad he was about to fall over. His other arm had his teddy pinned to his chest and his thumb in his mouth and every few seconds, he would lean forward and kick his leg out behind him in some odd mix between dancing and stimming.

She was sure at some point he was going to have a meltdown to release his confusion and backed up energy. But he was alright, Eddie didn't need to come home. He had picked up these extra shifts so when the baby came they would be alright with him taking some time off.

He didn't have to come home, he should stay while he could. In case they had any proper emergencies soon like the baby coming early or Chris having an accident or something going wrong at school.

She just needed to hear his voice.

***

"No dad I swear he's fine, I- dad Eddie's home now, he's here you can talk to him." (Y/n) held the phone against her ear and swiped her hand beneath her eyes to catch the fallen tears.

She had been on the phone with her dad for almost an hour now. At first, she tried not to tell him, he called right when Chris wasn't exactly settling for bed and she gave the phone to Chris. Her dad worked wonders reading a story over the phone and Chris fell asleep but as soon as he asked what was wrong, (Y/n) broke.

Nothing had worked calming her down for the rest of the day and Chris had had a meltdown after she came off the phone to Eddie and then refused to eat his tea. The only thing that settled him was being in the bath for over an hour, playing with his cups and bubble machine.

Eddie dropped his bag by the door, not bothering to kick his shoes off like he normally did as he bolted into the living room towards his wife. He barely had time to open his arms before (Y/n) attached herself to him like a vine. Her arm coiled around his lower chest and she buried her face in his chest as she held her other hand out to pass him the phone.

He glanced at the caller ID and curved his other arm around (Y/n)'s waist, leaning his cheek on top of her head as he squeezed her against him.

"Andrew, yeah it's me… I know, I've spoken to a Sergeant at the station today, she said we can make a statement tomorrow. Can I call you back?" Eddie rubbed his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back but he could feel how tightly her fingers were digging into his hips. And he didn't want to have this long conversation right now, not with the afternoon they had all had.

He had talked to Bobby as soon as he came off the phone with (Y/n) and he gave Eddie Athena's number. She had been very helpful and understanding and said she could come and talk to (Y/n) about a statement in the morning.

When he hung up the phone, Eddie tossed it on the sofa and curled his fingers into the back of (Y/n)'s hair, breathing softly against her forehead as he pulled her impossibly closer.

"Are you okay, how's he been?" He moved towards the sofa and sat down, pulling (Y/n) along with him so she was laid between his thighs. Her head rested on his shoulder and her arms stayed tight around his hips and her eyes fell closed, nuzzled into Eddie's neck.

"I think I scared him when I shouted after them, he didn't know why I was upset… Eddie, if I didn't look up in time-"

"Hey, you got him back that's all that matters. Athena's coming round in the morning to talk to us but for now, he's safe. You're both safe."

Eddie slouched back into the sofa and propped his heels up on the coffee table, managing a smile when (Y/n) shuffled round in his arms. She kept her head on his shoulder and her arms bound around his torso and lifted her legs up so they were laid out over his thigh. His right arm stayed curved around her waist, his hand on her stomach and his left hand moved to cup her face and pull her closer until he could kiss her temple.

He knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight; he could feel the hour-long conversation he would be having with his father-in-law soon and he doubted (Y/n) would sleep well. And between that, Eddie wanted to go and check on Chris for a while and make sure he was sound asleep and alright. Sleep wasn't going to be their friend for a while now.

He managed to close his eyes after a while and tilt his head down so his nose and mouth were smothered in (Y/n)'s hair, breathing in her scent. His fingertips feathered up and down her side when he felt (Y/n)'s breaths start to even out and her body started to relax against him.

He tried to be slow and careful, not wanting to move (Y/n) as he reached into his pocket and got his phone out.

"Eddie," (Y/n) brushed her nose against his neck and kissed his shoulder, feeling like she was about to drop off to sleep and when she tried to open her eyes and see what he was doing on his phone, she couldn't keep her eyes open.

"Sh, go to sleep mi amor."

He kept his lips against her forehead and started to scroll down an app on his phone. Thinking about his impending phone call with Andrew made something spark in the back of Eddie's mind and he found himself scrolling over swing sets. He knew Chris favoured the swings he had at his grandad's house and the main reason they went to the park was for the swings.

They needed some swings in the back garden because one thing was certain; they weren't going to the park anymore.

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 2

SUMMARY: In the midst of the chaos on set, quiet moments between you and Glen begin to weave a subtle tapestry of connection. As coffee cups become shared tokens of affection and playful banter fills the air, the chemistry between you deepens, revealing layers of warmth and humor. From lighthearted discussions about makeup to Glen’s unexpected revelations about his sisters’ influence, every encounter blurs the lines of professionalism and friendship, leaving you both questioning what lies beneath the surface.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but you were already on set, clinging to your cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. The early morning chill bit at your skin, and you stifled a yawn as you prepped your station. It was only the second or third day of filming, and the early call times were starting to catch up with you.

Just as you took a sip, Glen walked in for hair and makeup, practically bouncing through the door. He was already in costume, a grin stretched across his face as he greeted the crew. “Morning!” he called out cheerfully, like it wasn’t 5 a.m.

You raised an eyebrow, barely able to muster the energy to lift your cup. “How are you so awake right now?” you asked, your voice groggy with exhaustion.

He chuckled as he sank into the chair in front of your mirror. “Well, I’m on coffee number three,” he said, holding up an empty mug like it was a trophy.

You let out a tired laugh, holding up your half-empty cup. “I’m still clinging to my first. You must have some magic metabolism, because I don’t think my body could handle three.”

He grinned at you in the mirror, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You’ve gotta pace yourself. It’s all about timing. Coffee every forty-five minutes.”

“Oh, is that the secret?” you teased, rubbing your eyes. “I’ll have to take notes. The rest of us mortals are just barely hanging on.”

“Aw, c’mon, you’ve got this,” he said with an easy smile. “Just have another cup. Or two. And maybe a power nap between takes.”

“I wish!” you scoffed, tying your hair back and grabbing a comb to start on his hair. “What’s the longest you’ve ever been on set without a break?”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, thinking for a second. “Probably twenty hours straight for a shoot that kept getting delayed. Every time we were about to wrap, something went wrong. It was brutal. But, hey, I survived.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Twenty hours? That’s insane. How did you not collapse?”

Glen shrugged, looking a little proud of himself. “A lot of coffee, again. But mostly adrenaline. When you’re on set, there’s this energy that keeps you going. It’s weird, but it works.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that’s not how it works for me. I think I’d just fall asleep standing.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and it made you smile despite your exhaustion. “You? Nah, I’ve seen you on set. You’ve got this calm, focused vibe. I bet you’d be fine.”

“Focused, maybe,” you admitted, smoothing out the front of his hair. “Calm? Not so sure.”

“Well, you fake it well,” he teased, making you smile again. “Seriously, though, you seem like you’ve got a good handle on things.”

You paused for a second, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Thanks. It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest. But, I mean, who wouldn’t be excited to work on something like this? Top Gun? That’s bucket list stuff.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the film. “It really is, isn’t it? I still have moments where I look around and think, ‘Wow, this is actually happening.’”

“Do you get nervous?” you asked, genuinely curious. “Like, before big scenes?”

“All the time,” he admitted with a chuckle. “It’s part of the job. But you’ve just gotta roll with it. Once you’re in the moment, it’s like everything else fades away. The adrenaline kicks in and you just... do it.”

You finished with his hair and set down the comb, wiping your hands on a towel. “I guess I’ll need some of that adrenaline to get through this day.”

“You will,” he said confidently, standing up and stretching his arms. “But if not, there’s always coffee number two waiting for you.”

You laughed again, the weight of the early morning starting to lift a little. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Glen flashed you a quick smile, he grabbed his cup and started to walk out, pausing for a moment at the door. “Hey,” he called back, “if you need a coffee buddy, I’m always down for round four.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you watched him go. “I’ll hold you to that.”

* * * *

It was mid-morning by the time Glen made his way back to your trailer for a touch-up. The wind had done a number on his hair during the earlier shoot, and you had just set your tools down when the door swung open. Glen stepped in, holding not one, but two cups of coffee.

You looked up from your chair, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were on coffee number three this morning? You’re really pushing it now.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “This one’s not for me.” He stepped closer, extending one of the cups toward you. “I noticed your coffee order earlier and figured you could use a refill.”

Surprised, you blinked, glancing between him and the cup. “You got this for me?”

Glen grinned, nodding. “Yep. Figured you could use a little pick-me-up since we both know this day isn’t getting any shorter.”

You took the cup, a smile spreading across your face as you read the label. He’d gotten your order exactly right. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that you memorized my coffee order this quickly.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t have much choice. You had it written on the side of your cup earlier. Made my life easier.”

You shook your head, amused by his attention to detail. “Still, I appreciate it. What do I owe you?”

Glen waved it off, sliding into your makeup chair with ease. “Nah, it’s on me. Consider it a thank you for always making me look presentable on camera.”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin as you took a sip. “I suppose that’s a fair trade,” you teased, setting your cup down before getting to work on fixing his hair. “Though, I have to admit, I was pretty close to giving up after seeing the state of this mess. The wind really did a number on you today.”

He groaned dramatically, glancing at his reflection. “I know, right? One gust and everything goes haywire.”

“Lucky for you, that’s what I’m here for,” you replied with a grin, starting to smooth out the strands. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the small shift in the air between you two. The conversation was flowing easier now, the silences comfortable rather than awkward.

Glen stayed relaxed in the chair, watching you work through the mirror. “You’re too good at this,” he said, his tone warm but casual. “Honestly, you make it seem effortless.”

You chuckled, your hands continuing to move through his hair. “Well, after enough practice, it kind of becomes second nature. Though, I’d say you’re not the worst hair disaster I’ve had to deal with.”

“Oh? And who holds that honor?”

You smirked. “I’m not naming names, but let’s just say it involved a lot of sweat and an unfortunate run-in with a stunt double.”

He laughed again, a deep, easy sound that made the atmosphere feel even lighter. “That sounds like a story I need to hear sometime.”

“Maybe after coffee number four,” you teased, stepping back to admire your work. His hair was back in place, not a strand out of order.

He turned to face you with a grateful smile. “Thanks. For the hair, and for... everything.”

You smiled softly, leaning against the counter. “You’re welcome. And thanks for the coffee. You might’ve just saved my afternoon.”

Glen stood, grabbing his own cup and raising it in a mock toast. “Consider it a small price to pay for making me look good.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he gave you a quick wink before heading back out. The gesture was small, but it left a warmth that lingered long after he was gone.

* * * *

A week or two passed and you had started to feel more comfortable with the routine on set. It was mid-morning, and Glen was back in your chair for a makeup touch-up after the first few hours of shooting. The trailer was quiet except for the hum of the lights, and the steady rhythm of brushes against his skin had lulled both of you into a comfortable silence. You were focused, making sure the base was even, when Glen suddenly broke the quiet.

"Is that the NARS bronzer you’re using?" he asked casually, his tone light.

You froze mid-application, staring down at the palette in your hand with raised eyebrows. "Wait... how do you know that?"

Glen chuckled, his grin spreading wide across his face. "I’ve got two sisters and a niece. Trust me, I’ve been a test dummy for enough makeup experiments to know the basics."

You blinked, half-impressed and half-amused. "Okay, I did not see that coming. So, what—are you secretly a makeup guru?"

He laughed again, the sound warm and relaxed. "Hardly. I just know a few things here and there. Like... contouring, highlighting, and... uh, what’s that thing where you use tape to get a sharp wing?"

"You're talking about the tape trick for eyeliner?" you asked, genuinely surprised by his knowledge.

"Yeah! That’s the one. My niece was all about it for her school dance last year." He shifted slightly in the chair, his expression softening as he talked about his family. "Lauren and Leslie, my sisters, used to rope me into their makeup sessions when we were younger. They were relentless, but I didn’t mind too much."

You smiled as you reached for a different brush. "Well, that explains why you seem so comfortable in this chair. You’re a pro."

Glen shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, I’ve survived worse. And you’re way better than my sisters were back in the day."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as you worked, the usual professional boundary between the two of you seemed to soften a little more. He felt at ease with you, and you realized that Glen wasn’t just another actor in your chair—he was kind, thoughtful, and had an unexpected way of making the most routine moments feel personal.

"So, should I expect you to start recommending products to the other guys?" you teased, giving him a playful look as you added the finishing touches.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Maybe I should! I mean, have you seen the state of some of their skin? A little moisturizer wouldn’t hurt."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Right? I should help them get a good skincare routine down. 'Hey, guys, just a tip—sunscreen is your friend!'"

Glen leaned back in the chair, nodding seriously. "Exactly! 'You want to be the next big action star? You can't be looking like a potato on screen.'"

"Or like they just came from a three-day camping trip," you added, chuckling.

He chuckled along with you, leaning slightly closer as the laughter faded. "Maybe I should start a YouTube channel—'Glen Powell's Grooming Tips.' I could go viral."

"Just don’t forget to credit me as your makeup artist," you replied, a grin on your face. "I expect a solid shout-out for all the hard work."

"Of course! You’ll be my secret weapon," he said, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. There was a warmth in his gaze, a hint of something unspoken lingering between you. "But really, I’m just glad to have someone like you to make me look good. You’re the best."

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks as you brushed off the compliment with a smile. It was just another easy conversation, another private moment, but something about it left an impression. There was a comfort between you and Glen, a kind of unspoken understanding that made these small moments feel... different.

* * * *

The set was buzzing with activity as the crew prepared for the next scene. You were stationed at a portable makeup station, surrounded by an array of brushes, palettes, and hair products. The air was filled with the chatter of cast and crew, punctuated by the sounds of cameras rolling and directors calling for action.

As you touched up the makeup of one of the actresses, you caught sight of Glen out of the corner of your eye. He was leaning against a nearby wall, watching the scene unfold with a casual air, but you could see the moment his gaze shifted to you.

A few moments later, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way over, his usual smile lighting up his face. “Hey, you,” he said, his voice warm amidst the commotion.

“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought you were filming?” you replied, pausing your work to give him your full attention.

“Just wrapped a scene, and I figured I’d come see what you’re up to,” he said, casually leaning against the makeup station. “Plus, I wanted to make sure you’re not working too hard. You know, it’s a tough job keeping all of us looking good.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re all pretty easy to work with. It’s the directors who give me a run for my money. They keep changing their minds about how they want the characters to look.”

Glen feigned horror, placing a hand over his heart. “What? How dare they disrupt your creative process? Next, they’ll be telling me I can’t wear this shirt!” He gestured to his fitted T-shirt, a playful glint in his eye.

“Don’t worry; I think the shirt is safe for now,” you teased back, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. “But I’m glad you stopped by. It’s nice to have a break from all the chaos.”

He nodded, his expression growing more sincere. “I totally get that. It’s nice to just hang out for a bit, you know? Plus, I enjoy hearing you talk about makeup and all the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his interest. “Most guys wouldn’t care about that.”

“Hey, I’m not most guys,” he replied, his tone mock-serious. “I have sisters. I’ve learned to appreciate the art of makeup and hair. Besides, it’s fascinating to see how you work your magic.”

You grinned, flattered by his words. “Well, if you’re ever interested in a lesson, I could always use a willing model.”

“Model, huh?” He feigned deep thought, tapping his chin dramatically. “Do I get to pick my look? Maybe I want a smoky eye... or glitter? I could rock a bold lip, you know.”

“Glitter?” you echoed, your laughter ringing out. “Now that’s a bold choice, Glen. I’m not sure the world is ready for that level of glam.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, crossing his arms with a mock-seriousness. “But only if you promise to take pictures. I want proof when I’m famous!”

“Sure! I’ll make sure to use the most flattering angles,” you replied, your smile widening.

“Hey, you’re the expert. I trust your judgment,” he said, leaning in closer, his tone dropping slightly. “But really, I appreciate you. You make all of this so much easier.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Glen. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. “Alright, I should probably let you get back to work before the directors send a search party for me. But I’ll be around if you need a break.”

“Deal,” you said, watching him walk away with a lightness in your chest, knowing that these moments were becoming more frequent and meaningful.

[shlonguru]

hey omg I’m not sure if your still taking smut fic/shot requests but I saw your alastor one where he fucked y/n in his booth and broadcasted it and now I need a Vox version if you haven’t already!!! (obviously no rush and I apologize if your not taking requests thank you anyway and I am obsessed with your fics and fanart keep up this absolutely amazing work 🗣️❤️‍🔥)

Hi! Thank you so much for your request I love it 😭 I'm so glad you enjoyed my work 🥹

I'm so sorry for the delay guys school's been rough and I've been sick but I'm back on track and ready to report ! o>

Thank you all for your patience and I hope you like this one! I have more coming up but I wanted to finish this one first.

On another note I’m not sure this series has passed the Bechdel test yet T^T

But without any ado, I present to you :

Alastor x Fem!Reader x Vox 3 - Sealing the deal !

Credit of the gif : @SSerenitytheOtaku on DeviantArt

Summary : Waking up ready for round three but how does one get the attention of two busy men ?

Warning/Tags : 18+, Smut, Oral, cumshot, pussy eating, dirty talk, teasing, brat taming, edging, cum eating, oral creampie, double penetration, hair pulling, piv, anal, brat taming, praise, rough, spanking, threesome, toys.

Word count : 6368 words (Idk what to say) -> Not proof read yet but I'm on it o/

You woke up in a better state on this day. It had been a few days since your last encounter with the two demons. You had been quite exhausted from your activities and had been lounging around Vox's bedroom, resting. You looked around the room and had no idea whether or not he had come to bed to rest or had just continued working until now.

Within minutes of you waking up, a butler walked in with a tray full of what looked like a fancy breakfast. Your stomach informed you verbally that you were hungry, starved even. You wondered how they always had such a perfect timing to bring you breakfast and remembered the cameras you had noticed in the corner of the room, it felt like Vox was monitoring you but there was nothing much you could do about it. You hadn’t even seen Vox since the last time.

After feasting you asked yourself where he might be at.

You turned on the giant TV screen in his room and saw him presenting the news, with a poorly drawn picture of something that looked like Alastor. From how he spoke at your last trio encounter you thought Vox would be all over you all day everyday but reality was, he also happened to be a busy man. That made you question what you were truly expecting out of anything that had to do with him and Alastor, you weren’t the type to beg for attention, but you usually knew how to draw it to yourself if needed. How do you do that when the two men are out of reach?

After a while you felt bored in his bed, you had grown tired of just looking at him on his TV. You were trying to think of a way to get his attention, when you heard a loud bang, making you jump and bringing your attention to the door of the bedroom which had just flung open.

‘Damn, do they ever open this door normally ?’ You thought to yourself.

A little lady walked in alone, not looking away from the phone she was texting on. She was pretty with a very nice and voluminous hairdo. Her fashion was also impeccable. You were staring as she walked in then stopped in front of the bed, still typing without acknowledging your presence. She eventually finished what she had been doing and looked up.

“Oh, so you’re the current hyper fixation?” She cockily announced before staring you down for a few seconds. “Yeah, that checks out.”

“Hi…?” You asked not knowing what her intentions were at this moment. “You are?” You inquired.

“Ah! I’m Velvette sweetheart, one of the Vees?”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Yeah! I just wanted to see you for myself you know? Vox can’t seem to shut up about you these days.”

“Really?” You asked poorly hiding your excitement.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” She inquired with a slight grin.

“Well, I haven’t been able to get a hold of him pretty much since I got here.”

“Oh…and that makes you…sad..?” She smirked seeing what was happening. “Sit down with me and let’s have some tea while you spill yours for me thank you.” She pointed at the table not too far and started heading there while texting again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Damn, I still don’t understand how he bagged such a hottie.” She declared before laughing out loud.

“Well, he has his charms…” You looked aside sipping your tea slowly getting your point across.

“Oh…oh!” You both laughed.

“Still, if I can’t get a hold of him what’s the point of staying in this tower?” You questioned.

“Listen Sweetie, that prick knows you need rest and is keeping himself busy in the meantime but don’t sweat it, you will get him.”

“Yeah…” You sighed.

“You know, we have a gala tonight and I don’t know if he invited you or not but if you’re feeling well rested you should totally come.” She sipped her tea.

“That asshole, he didn’t tell me about any gala!” You exclaimed angrily.

“Oh, it’s a Gala to help post-extermination orphans but it’s pretty much a front to sell more V-tech products. “

“Sounds about right” You responded unimpressed.

“Don’t worry I got you, I’ll make sure you’re dressed for the occasion.” She smirked then winked at you. “You’ll get back at him. #Fuckhim am I right?”

“#InMoreWaysThanOne !” You added.

You smiled back and you both laughed maniacally.

You paused your laugh.

“Will Alastor be there?” You asked.

“Probably not, unless Vox invited him, which I doubt.” She chuckled.

“Aww…” You whined before resuming your maniacal laugh together.

~~~~~~~~~~

For all you know he might have tried to give you space to rest just like he might have just been too busy, but now was not the time to speculate, it was time to shine.

Velvette hadn’t been lying, you looked absolutely stunning. But then again, if you look expensive, you probably look good as hell, and Velvette being a fashion designer, she knew what she was doing.

Your hair was up in an elegant hairdo and the royal blue, diamonds studded dress fitted you like a glove, it had been sewn on you after all. You hadn’t felt this fancy since…well, the first night you had met the both of them. You were excited at the idea of spending a good evening and of course seeing Vox.

You arrived at the party with Velvette. The party was thrown at the rooftop of the Vees Tower and it was as big as you would expect. People were mingling and Velvette quickly disappeared after showing you around.

You headed for the bar and there, you met Charlie. You were surprised to see her there but then remembered the initial reason for the gala and it all made sense.

“Charlie oh my god hi!” You exclaimed excitedly.

“Y/n! Omg how are you? How is it at the Vox Tower?” She asked just as excitedly.

“It’s good! I do miss the hotel though!” You smiled.

“You are welcome to come back whenever you want!” She hugged you.

You both chatted for a bit at the bar until all the lights of the rooftop went black, then a spotlight illuminated, shining on the scene where the musicians had been, now making place for the main host, Vox.

He looked gorgeous, or was it that you had missed seeing him in real life?

He was wearing a nice tuxedo. He looked elegant and very well put together. You could tell it was his public persona but nonetheless, it did something to you.

Vox opened with his speech about how terrible the situation for the orphans of hell was then slowly and cleverly morphed it into a full-on advertisement of V-tech products. You were expecting it but still felt a little impressed.

Vox was staring at the crowd, talking confidently.

“-you can trust that none of this would have happened in the first place if everyone had been equipped with our bullet-proof V-ests and-“ He stopped for an instant while he was scanning the crowd, a dumbfounded look on his face.

You realized after a couple of seconds he had been staring straight at you. Red went to your cheeks as you made the realization he had noticed you for the first time and it had probably taken him by surprise as well. You smiled and blew a kiss at him.

He coughed and adjusted his bowtie before attempting to finish his speech.

“Hmm…where was I…haha…it is HOT in here…yeah, orphans, let’s help them, donate and invest, and most importantly, trust us!” He gave a very obviously fake smile before everyone applauded, visibly impressed by the speech anyways.

People went back to mingling and you could see Vox being swarmed by people asking him business related questions.

Charlie had gone and blended with the guests, and you were still at the bar enjoying your drink and the view when you heard a cough from behind. You turned around and met the eyes of a man you had never seen before. He looked elegant and kind of cocky.

“Hey babe, wanna grab a drink?” He asked.

You hesitantly tried thinking of ways to turn him down when you gave a quick look around and noticed Vox staring at you two, his eyes glowing red and black with anger.

A devilish idea crossed your mind at that instant. Seeing as he had basically abandoned you for days after all, he deserved a little backlash for neglecting you.

“I’d love to have a drink with you!” You smiled.

While drinking your cocktail you laughed exaggeratedly loud at whatever this man was saying and laid your hand on his chest. You weren’t checking on Vox but you had a feeling he was witnessing every minute of it.

After a little bit, you turned slightly, checking the crowd surrounding him but he was nowhere to be found.

You turned back to the man facing you only to notice Vox towering over him.

“Hey, buddy!” He said with an aggressively kind tone. “You might wanna go find yourself busy somewhere else yeah?” He smiled, slightly bent with his arms behind his back and a smile on his face.

The other man didn’t even look behind him and kept looking at you.

“Yeah…I’m already busy but thank-“

Vox grabbed him by the collar violently.

“GET FUCKING LOST.” His eyes radiating again and his voice sounded static-y. Your eyes widened at the sight of him and you felt an familiar urge to have him ravage you.

“Fuck, Mr. Vox I’m so sorry, of course I’m leaving.” Exclaimed the man before leaving running out of this situation.

“Aww no, my distraction.” You whined resting your face on your wrist as your elbow rested on the counter of the bar, witnessing him run for his life. “See you in hell!” You cheered holding your glass up in the direction the man had gone running to.

“Huh-hmm.” Vox fake-coughed.

You turned to him.

“Oh hi there, fancy seeing you here.” You smiled looking at Vox.

“Y/n, are you drunk ?” He asked.

“Nope, just bored, and lonely…” You look up at him with puppy eyes as you said that last part. “How’s your fancy gala?” You asked with a hint of bitterness in your voice.

Vox’s face stared for a second.

You felt something grab your arm and were swiftly pulled in the isolated spot between the bar and the plants behind it. It all happened so fast, next thing you knew Vox’s whole body was close to yours, his hand resting on the wall against which your back laid.

“Is someone mad they weren’t invited to the gala?” He smirked.

Hearing him tease you ticked you off.

“Actually no, my good friend Velvette invited me.” You smiled cockily.

“Of course this is Velvette’s doing…You’re supposed to be resting! If I find this cunt I swear-” He mumbled under his breath, looking away, trying to find her in the crowd.

You grabbed the edge of his face, bringing his gaze back to you.

“Hey there, don’t you think I know how to take care of myself? I’m a big girl you know.” You declared.

His screen glitched.

“You sure are.” He composed himself focusing back on you. “By the way Y/n, you look ravishing tonight…to be honest with you, you look so good I don’t think it’s fair to have you out here for everyone to enjoy.”

“Well, it’s not my fault, I’m more than well-rested and the people I craved the attention of were both nowhere to be found…” You rested your hand on his chest, slowly rubbing it. “Such a shame if you ask me…” You looked up at him knowing damn well the effect it would have on him.

“Oh….Y/n….you shouldn’t do that…” He cautioned you lightly bending over you looking like he was trying to hold himself back.

“Or what…” You slowly moved your leg from the slit of your dress, leading your knee into Vox’s crotch and ever so slowly rubbing against it. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Vox threw his head back, groaning before he slowly brought his face back to yours, levelling his eyes with yours.

“Someone is eager tonight~” He teased. “Missed me?”

“Of course I did, your room might be big but if I’m alone it’s boring.” You snapped back.

“Sorry, I assumed you’d need more time to recuperate from our last session, you had practically passed out from the pleasure remember?” He smiled.

You blushed.

“Well, I guess you overestimated yourself” You replied, snarkily.

“I’m sure.” He grinned.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck and planted your lips against his. You gave him a slow, yet passionate kiss which he reciprocated immediately, the gentle kiss quickly turning into a heated one as you both fed off the energy of the other and couldn’t get enough. His hands travelled down your body, feeling all its shapes as your tongues melted together. You then pulled away from the kiss and he took in the sight in front of him, admiring your flushed and visibly eager figure.

He proceeded to kiss down your neck, pulling you closer and earning a soft moan from you.

You hand boldly cupped his now very hard member, making him grunt before looking at you.

“Alright we’re outta here.” He muttered and before you could react you saw him disappear into pure electricity yet somehow lift you up then move faster than you could process (or anyone else for that matter) before landing you both into the terrace that led into his office.

His office had a massive desk off which he threw everything to the floor and sat you on it. He immediately went back to kissing you more aggressively. You pulled out of the kiss panting.

“I thought you had a busy night.” You asked.

“Yeah, well they can all go fuck themselves, I’m busy now.” He pulled you closer, his crotch pressing against yours.

You moaned softly, feeling how sensitive you were.

“Oh, I like that sound.” He murmured. His hands went from your hips to your waist. He took a second to look at your whole figure.

“You look drop-dead gorgeous in this dress…” He almost salivated. He kissed you gently but you didn’t let him as you kissed back more aggressively, he noticed and immediately matched your energy. His hands went to your breasts and cupped them gently, earning another soft moan from you. It quickly changed though as you felt a jolt of electricity tease both of your breasts in a soft yet intense way, transforming your moan into a louder one. He had his way of being rough yet soft at the same time, and all of his movements were smooth, though you could feel him get eager and tense. He pulled away from you.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. I gotta pace myself.” He looked out of sorts and tried to compose himself back into his eloquent persona. “Y/n, may I offer you a deal.” He asked.

“A deal?” You panted and asked suspiciously.

“Well, more like a bet.” He noticed you looked interested and continues. “What if I broadcasted you, to that idiot radio bastard, and if you can hold it in like a good girl and not come until he gets here you get to ask whatever you want.” He smiled viciously.

“Hmm…I mean he did do the same last time so that would only be fair…” You thought. “But what’s in it for you?”

“Well, first of all, I get to tease that asshole and that in itself is a win, but if you fail and come before he joins us, WE get to do whatever we want. How does that sound? Probably pretty good, considering how cocky of a brat you are huh?”

You rolled your eyes before grabbing Vox’s jacket, pulling him closer. “Bring it on TV boy.” You arrogantly declared, smirking.

He chuckled and you noticed immediately after a little red light blinking on top of what looked like a camera in the top corner of the room, indication he was probably broadcasting everything to Alastor. His hand had moved behind your neck and he kissed you deeply as his tongue slid inside your mouth, you kissed him back with fervor as he bend over, laying you down onto the desk. He was still kissing you while his hands travelled down your body, resting on your hips before one of them moved to your crotch, softly rubbing it, making you moan.

“Damn Y/n you’re so fucking wet, I barely need to touch you.” He gloated.

Your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of his dexterous fingers rub your entrance.

“Careful there, at this rate you won’t hold until I touch you raw dear.” He teased.

“I’m good V, just do your thing.” You panted.

You weren’t paying attention but it was an actual struggle for Vox to see you in that state. He eventually moved your panties to the side, exposing your dripping parts. He kneeled in front of you, spreading your lips before digging in, making you practically cry out in pleasure, realizing you were closer to the edge than you thought. Vox was savoring you, licking every nook and cranny of your pussy, his long tongue coming in very handy as he kept sending small jolts of electricity while eating you out, making the whole ordeal much harder to withstand than you thought.

“Fuck…” You moaned. “When is Al coming…” You whined, staring at the camera.

“Not before you sweetheart.” Vox declared before attacking you once again, diverting your attention back to him. He looked like he was greatly enjoying himself.

Moans were pouring out of your mouth as well as Vox’s name and you grabbed the edge of the desk, trying your best to hold it in, but you felt it inexorably get closer, that dreaded yet craved orgasm.

“Vox…I’m think I’m gonna…” You moaned.

“Come? I can tell.” He responded still eating you out yet this time pressing hard on your G-spot with his tongue and simultaneously sending a bigger jolt through his tongue, sending you fully over the edge as you gritted your teeth tightly before exploding into a moaning mess, clenching and arching your back. You finished coming and collapsed on your back.

“That’s what I’m talking about, good job Y/n that’s a hot way to lose.” Declared Vox standing back up.

“Fuck off…” You panted, upset.

You heard hands clapping coming from another corner of the room.

“Beautiful darling…” You heard. You turned your panting face to the corner of the room and noticed a shadow displaying red eyes and a wicked smile. The shadow came out of the corner, turning into none other than Alastor.

“No… you asshole, when did you get here!?” Whined Vox.

“Actually, I got here just on time to witness the absolutely delightful view of Y/n giving in to pleasure.” He replied enthusiastically making gestures before switching to a cold tone. “And don’t ever send me any of your stupid screen technology again I’ll appreciate it.” He tossed on the floor towards Vox what looked like a little drone with a broken screen as well as a broken propeller.

“Aww fuck, well that means we both lost, idiot!” Replied Vox angrily before rolling his eyes. You smiled in victory, still recovering though.

“Nonsense, how can witnessing our sweetheart reach a climax be considered anything other than a victory, plus if I followed your little bet correctly, Y/n still gets to ask whatever she wants.” He walked close to you. “I’m sure she’ll choose wisely.”

Having recovered enough to think more clearly you took a second to think of what you were gonna ask. It clicked and you sat up on the desk as the tall figures stood before you.

“Ok, so I noticed that the both of you are busy men, correct?”

They both nodded.

“However, as busy as you both might be, I do not enjoy being treated like a side piece.”

They both looked at you curiously.

“It is not okay that I basically have to beg for either of you guy’s attention, so what I’m demanding is some more quality time with the both of you, and also that you don’t just toss me around from the get go and leave me some creative freedom during sex.”

Vox looked perplexed. Alastor’s expression looked frozen for a second, he then palmed his face before opening his mouth, turning to Vox.

“Great job, blockhead. I leave her in your care for a few days and she launches a rebellion.”

“Shut it dumbass, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t neglected her for two weeks while she was with you.” Vox countered.

“Right…” Alastor looked away annoyingly.

They both looked your way and Alastor spoke.

“Can you give us a minute to discuss the terms of this agreement?” He politely asked.

“Of course.” You smiled. “You have one minute.” Your smile faded.

Alastor looked at you with his usual smile, but you could tell even though he might have been annoyed there was a form of respect shining through his eyes.

“Alright dear.” He turned to Vox. “Come on Static, let’s go.” He started walking towards the corner of the room.

“Hey, who are you calling Static, old fart?” snapped back Vox as he followed.

You rolled your eyes and waited for a minute while they quietly debated. Seeing them being force to associate never got old.

After their minute was up, they walked back to you. You were still sitting at the edge of Vox’s desk.

Vox started speaking.

“Ok Y/n, we're okay with your terms. We’ll spend more quality time with you and not just fuck you when we’re with you.”

“As hard as that would be.” Added Alastor. “Though we need you to define ‘creative freedom’ dear.” He finished.

You thought for a second.

“5 minutes of uninterrupted action from me, to the both of you.” You replied. They both looked at each other and smiled widely.

“Alright then.” He declared in a satisfied tone.

“So, it’s a deal?” They both said at the same time, hold up their hand for a handshake.

You breathed softly then shook both of their hands, a massive glowing light engulfing the room, it shined red, blue, green and more. They both looked more than happy as everything calmed down.

“Perfect.” Exclaimed Alastor. “I’m just going to need you to bend over for me for a moment.”

“Al, we literally just agreed to let me do my thing !” You retorted back.

“Oh I know, don’t worry I won’t interfere I just need to do something first, no need to be suspicious.” He said innocently.

You rolled your eyes before bending over the desk, looking back at Alastor who had just pulled out something from god knows where.

“What’s that?” You examined the red object resting on his palm, it was neither big nor small, it looked soft, cone shaped with a narrow base and what looked like a small handle.

“I’ll show you Darling.” He grinned.

He bent over your body, and you felt him slowly start the insert the object in your ass.

“A butt plug!?” You yelled.

“Are you gonna stay a good girl?” Alastor asked politely. You nodded instinctively, which made you a little mad at yourself. Though you felt caught off guard you felt more curious than anything about this. He finished pushing it all the way in and you felt stuffed in a new way, it didn’t hurt at all and after breathing in you turned back around to face them.

“Great.” You smiled. “Love making deals with you guys.”

They both stared at you.

“Better hurry dear, the clock is ticking, you’ve got 4 minutes and 48 seconds left.” Declared Alastor looking at the clock on the wall in a nonchalant tone as they both harbored a sadistic smile.

You realized the situation you were in. They both stared at you, holding their arms behind their back, waiting patiently.

You quickly dropped to your knees in front of them and swiftly unzipped the fly of their pants. Both of their shaft slid right out of their pants, holding arrogantly in front of you. You looked up for an instant and noticed they were both looking composed yet eagerly awaiting your next move.

You grabbed the both of them by the base as started by licking Alastor’s tip while stroking Vox. You did the same to Vox after tasting Alastor and gradually took more of their member in your mouth. You wrapped your tongue around them and made sure you went all the way to the base.

A quick glance at the clock indicated half of your time had gone already. You then looked up and realized the both of them displayed flushed expressions. Seeing them like that made you feel so aroused you could feel yourself dripping. They were both dead focused on you. You continued and licked Vox’s member from the base to the tip before taking him all the way to the base and down your throat, earning a slight moan from the man, you then pulled out and did the same to Alastor’s cock, hearing him pant as he felt swallowed all the way down. You savored the both of them like lollipops, enjoying yourself so much you failed to pace yourself, resulting in you heavy panting in between each movement and if you were sucking one, you were stroking the other.

Pulling out of Alastor, you stroked the both of them, catching your breath. You resumed a little more aggressively, taking Vox in and sucking firmly on his tip and shaft while wrapping your tongue around him.

“F-Fuck.” You heard him murmur. You looked up at him and noticed how he was visibly struggling to keep it together.

You moved to Alastor, focusing on his tip as well and sucking well with your tongue guiding you. You looked up at him and caught his smile wavering.

The clock now indicated less than a minute left, so you gave it your all. You took them both in your mouth simultaneously, sucking hard and making them both lean closer, closing in on you as they broke their composure and each laid a hand on the edge of the desk behind you, panting heavily. You felt them both get bigger and tensing up. You knew they were close, seeing as they couldn’t stand without assistance. You also knew they were actively trying not to come. But as much as they felt like they were in control most of the time, you knew you got whatever you wanted out of them and decided to remind them just that. You pulled them both out of your mouth, stroking them at a rapid pace and looked up at them, slightly out of breath, with a pleading look on your face.

“Are you not gonna let me have your delicious cum?” You said softly opening your mouth, your tongue lightly sticking out.

These words were enough to make them both lose the little bit of control they were clinging onto, exploding simultaneously and spurting most of their cum in your mouth. You kept stroking them until they finished coming and swallowed all that had landed in your mouth, you even scooped the tiny amount that had landed on your cleavage and licked it eagerly.

You noticed the panting fading away and looked up. It’s like they had both snapped back into reality, Vox looked satisfied yet still eager and Alastor’s expression was a mix of satisfaction and something that looked like frustration.

“Fuck Y/n, you got game!” Vox exclaimed.

You smiled.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself thoroughly my dear.” Voiced Alastor, looking like he had lost a bet, smiling through obvious bitterness.

“Probably not as much as you did.” You shot back, still smiling from the corner of your mouth.

“This is why I hate giving control to brats…” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s time we remind her who’s in charge here?” The radio demon declared smiling devilishly.

“Great idea.” Added Vox.

Before you could move they both grabbed you, lifting you effortlessly back on your feet.  Alastor ripped your dress off you in one movement before pulling you against him, his face dangerously close to yours.

“I think we’ve respected our part of the deal, now it’s your turn, so you’re going to behave and let us ravage you?” He smiled.

You nodded, dropping your bratty act as you craved them both.

He patted your head. “Good girl.”

 He then turned you around and swiftly pushed you over to Vox who caught you before grabbing your chin and giving you a deep kiss that felt like a reward. He then lifted you up, and, while still kissing you he moved towards a large leather couch on the side of the room. He then laid more comfortably on his back while settling you on top of him.

He kissed you deeply and you felt him rip your panties.

You pulled away, panting.

“You guys are gonna have to start buying me new ones.” You teased.

“If I had it my way you wouldn’t ever need any.” He teased.

You decided to move your hips, grinding against him and when he felt it, he grinned widely, feeling how drenched you were.

“If you’re gonna be so greedy and impatient…” He spoke softly.

You hadn’t noticed him positioning himself at your entrance, but you felt him suddenly pushing himself into you, filling you in a way you had missed. You both groaned in satisfaction.

After a moment you were done adjusting and noticed he wasn’t moving. He was just looking at you, smiling, his hands resting on your ass, holding it tightly.

“Aren’t you gonna move?” You asked curiously.

“Not yet Sweetheart.” He replied teasingly and you felt him spread your ass cheeks.

“What an impatient little mix.” You heard whispered right by your ear, taking you by surprise. It was Alastor, settled right behind you. “Well, if you wanna be ravage that much, I guess we’ll have to oblige.” He continued before you felt him suddenly rip the plug out of your ass, making you scream, you were surprised it didn’t hurt but the surprise itself had definitely caught you off guard. "I think you're ready for me darling." He finished.

You then felt what you could only assume to be Alastor’s tip press against your rear end, making you yelp.

“Now, now relax dear…” He whispered softly as he filled you more and you did your best, feeling him stuff you to your limit.

You had never been fuller but oddly enough that uncomfortable feeling faded quickly and was replaced by pleasure as you felt new erogenous zones getting teased.

They both slowly started to thrust and those feelings of pleasure were suddenly multiplied by a hundred. Soon enough, moans were pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably and even more so as they both picked up the pace.

Vox’s hands were resting on your waist and Alastor’s were on your ass, holding it tightly as he moved smoothly.

“I have to admit…” The radio demon declared in his usual composed manner, though you could tell some pants were breaking through his speech. “…She is louder than she looks when her mouth isn’t full.”

“I’m not about to complain.” Added Vox as he tossed your bra aside before cupping your breast and teasing your nipples, making your moans even louder.

Having so many spots teased at the same time was not something you were familiar with and they both felt you tighten as you gave in to pleasure.

“Oh, you’re gonna come already?” Smirked Vox pinching your nipples while thrusting hard.

“Yes…let us hear it.” Continued Alastor.

Before long, you were coming hard, making it almost uncomfortably tight for them both and you heard them groan as you cried out in pleasure.

“Shit…” Vox cursed, his face twisting in overwhelming pleasure, though he looked like he had managed to keep it together.

“Are you as weak as our friend when it comes to pleasure?” Teased Alastor. “You look like you’re struggling~” He added. That made Vox visibly angry.

“Shut the fuck up!” He yelled with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m fine! She just gets really tight when she comes that’s all.”

“That she does.” He acknowledged.

You emerged from your orgasm, thinking clearly again and they picked up their thrusting right where they had left it. The pleasure immediately started to build back up.

“You guys…” You cried out.

“What, are you going to come again?” Taunted Alastor.

“Already? You literally just came!” Laughed Vox obnoxiously.

Your face went bright red. You decided to try your best to not give them this satisfaction.

You grabbed tightly onto Vox’s shirt and did your best to focus and not let the pleasure control you. Alastor immediately noticed.

“Oh my…looks like she’s actually trying to hold it in!” He exclaimed in a sarcastically impressed tone.

“Cute…” Replied Vox enthusiastically. “Useless…but cute.” He smiled wickedly while starting to thrust faster.

Alastor did the same and before long you felt that edge get closer than you were comfortable with.

“Come on now dear…you know it’s rude to make people wait.” The red demon spoke gently into your ear, his voice sending chills up your spine and making you involuntarily moan louder.

“You know you want to.” Added Vox as he teased your breasts with some electricity, playing with your now rock-hard nipples.

Alastor spanked your ass as he kept thrusting.

“And rude people get disciplined.” Added Alastor.

You tightened around them and he spanked you again, this time harder.

Each time pushed you closer towards the climax, and you were now desperately whimpering in pleasure.

“Please…” You pleaded.

“No no sweetheart~, you know what we want.” Responded Alastor before spanking your again, making you yelp.

“Fuck, how tight are you gonna get?” Blurted Vox, seemingly reaching his limit as well.

“God, I’m gonna come…” You cried out.

Vox’s face got closer to yours. “Wrong name Y/n.” He started fucking you harder, aggressively thrusting into you.

Alastor grabbed your hair, pulling your face close to his. “Now darling be sure to keep his name out of this room.” He declared before kissing you aggressively as they both relentlessly pounded into you.

You wanted to apologize but didn’t have time. You grabbed Vox’s shirt tightly with one hand, and Alastor’s hand laying on your waist with the other as you felt yourself lose control and a huge wave washed over you, making you climax somehow even harder, your walls tightening again around them and earning a groan from both men as you felt them release deep inside of you as they kept fucking you, filling you to the brim.

As you cooled down you collapsed fully onto Vox as they both pulled out, cum dripping from both of your holes. They didn’t waste time to clean you up and Vox carried you back to his bedroom after Alastor had covered you with his shirt.

~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning, not having realized you had passed out once again. You smelled Alastor’s scent and thought he was nearby but quickly realized it was coming from his shirt that you were wearing.

The situation felt familiar, except they weren’t in the bedroom having tea, you were alone. It felt strange because the bed looked messier than it would if only one person had slept in it, plus you weren’t a restless sleeper. You stood, taking a moment to acknowledge how sore everything felt yet again.

“Maybe I did need more rest than I thought.” You spoke to yourself, walking towards the terrace, wrapping yourself into Alastor’s shirt. You opened the curtain and noticed the two recognizable figures sitting at a long table filled with breakfast items. You walked out to join them.

“Well, hello my dear Y/n!” Exclaimed Vox noticing you as you arrived. “Did you get enough rest this time? We can’t keep having you pass out like that each time.” He chuckled, drinking coffee from his mug.

“Indeed, it is problematic, I can’t make a habit of watching you all night in case something happens.” Added Alastor sipping from a tea cup not far from Vox.

You sat at the table.

“You guys stayed with me while I slept?” You inquired as a butler served some orange juice in front of you.

“Well I kinda had to, I mean you were in my bed after all…he stuck around cause he’s a freak.” Said Vox. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t look out after my guests, but don’t worry, we got some rest as well, you weren’t easy yesterday.” He added.

“Ah yes, I would appreciate if you didn’t make me share a bed with that specimen again in the future thank you.” Declared Alastor nonchalantly as Vox glared at him.

“I literally told you to leave.” Vox shot back.

“And leave her in your care? No thank you we saw what happened after she stayed with you last time, she’s never been this defiant before.” He argued back.

You laughed. “I’m just getting comfortable that’s all.” You expressed casually.

“Oh dear…” Alastor rolled his eyes. “But I have to admit I do like a good challenge.”

“Anyways Y/n,” Interrupted Vox. “We were discussing the deal we made yesterday, about that quality time, will you be rested enough to go out tonight?” He asked politely.

“Sure!” You responded enthusiastically; your mouth stuffed with a croissant.

“Good.” He smiled, before taking a sip.

“Perfect then.” Continued Alastor, sipping as well.

“I have to admit.” You continued. “I’m surprised you both accepted that deal.”

“Well, as irritating as this guy gets, it’ll be worth it if you’re in the picture.” Replied Vox calmly.

“And I’m sure you’ll come to your senses soon enough and ditch this guy so don’t worry your sweet little mind about it.” Added Alastor.

“Fuck you.” Snapped back Vox.

You laughed and continued your breakfast, satisfied with how things ended up turning out.

To be continued...

I love writing those two, I feel like this time I focused more on y/n and her dynamic with them but I'll be sure to write more exchanges between them next time. This whole series started because I was obsessed with 'Stayed Gone' so it makes sense i guess? Anyways I hope you enjoyed and thank you if you've read this far. Shlonguru out! o/

PS : I know Alastor is Aroace and I hope no one takes offense to my work. I genuinely take pleasure in writing smuts and I've been loving his personality that's all.

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Love, Eternal // [Part II]

Pairing | Phantom x Sister!Reader

Word count | 881

⚠️ Warnings | Reader uses she/her pronouns, (y/n) is used once. There is a small ritual scene. TW for murder ghouls, blood, injuries, assault, violence, and death.

Plot Summary: Today was Phantom's summoning day, a special occasion akin to a birthday. Eager to surprise him with a homemade cake, you realize you're missing ingredients and head into town. On the way back, you encounter trouble with some members of the Catholic church that changes the course of your life in the Ministry - and with Phantom - forever.

A/N: I'm so sorry Phantom, no one deserved this. It was supposed to be a fluffy birthday fic I swear!

[Prev] [Next]

“Peace be upon you, Sister. If we can even call you that.”

Glaring over your shoulder, you saw two members from the Catholic church up the road approach behind you. They loved to take turns hanging around the front gate and tormenting the Siblings. The first nuisance was a few inches taller than the other, both still being larger in stature than yourself. The taller one was thinner in frame, with short curly hair. While the smaller one clearly hit the gym, his biceps straining against a shirt you knew was definitely a size too small.

“Where’s your gang of freaks? I thought you people always had guard dogs when you went to town?”

You just ignored them, as you were taught to do, and kept walking. The sound of their shoes on the gravel getting louder and louder. Their pace hurried as they continued to stalk behind you.

“C’mon, we just wanna talk!” The taller one yelled. 

“Yeah! We want to convert!” The shorter one snickered, “you wouldn’t turn away willing converts would you?”

You suddenly stopped in your tracks, unwilling to put up with their taunts any longer. They were not going to ruin Phantom’s big day. 

“You know what–” 

Unfortunately, as you spun around to confront them, they happened to be a lot closer than you originally thought. The taller one already making his way behind you. His shorter accomplice roughly grabbing the bag off your shoulder and laughing as he threw it on the ground, crushing the newly bought ingredients under his boot. The purple food colouring appearing black in the moonlight as it splattered over the stones of the driveway, not unlike blood.

The shorter assailant grabbed your wrists and held them tightly behind your back with ease. The taller fiend wrapped his arm across your collarbone and around your neck, holding you still. You tried to wiggle and break free, you tried to bite or scream but a hand quickly found its way over your mouth as a third man slowly approached. 

The third assailant was different from the other two, clearly the leader of this gang. He was a larger, well-built man with short hair you thought to be blonde (though it was too dark to really tell). His hairstyle looked like it belonged at a country club. His face was covered with a black bandana, leaving only his hazel eyes visible under the night sky. He stood before you and stared, not a single emotion to be found on his face as he adjusted the black leather gloves, placing brass knuckles through the fingers of his right hand.

You shut your eyes, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. Silently pleading, no... desperately praying you were close enough to the Abbey for somebody to hear your muffled screams.

Swiss and Rain were slowly running out of ideas to keep Phantom distracted. Taking care of the small ghoul, in general, was as bad as trying to look after a kit. However, because it was his summoning day, he was insufferable - and they were powerless to do anything about it. 

The two ghouls in charge of him looked at one another, silently wondering what was taking you so long. You had been gone for over 2.5 hours and they both knew it only took an hour to get to town and back. Shrugging it off, they figured you had forgotten to tell them you were back and went straight to the kitchen instead, to avoid further delays to Phantom’s surprise.

Midway through enthusiastically telling the older ghouls a ‘fascinating’ story, Phantom suddenly froze. His nose pointed high as he sniffed the air, tail twitching as he looked around with worried eyes.

“Guys,” he said, looking at his brothers with a concerned expression. “I think (y/n) is in trouble.”

Swiss casually leaned back into the couch, “Ha, that’s a good one! I don’t smell anything except for the kitchen staff whipping up some mean lamb chops for dinner. I know you’re itching to see her, she’s probably just busy, Bug.”

“Trust me, she hasn’t forgotten.” Rain chimes in.

Phantom squeezed his eyes shut as he exhaled in frustration. Sniffing around again to confirm his suspicion, his tail went rigid as he picked up that strange scent once again. 

“No, I’m serious, something's not right. I have to go.” He said before rushing out of the den, following a faint wisp of your scent mixed with fear…

And blood.

Swiss and Rain immediately jumped up, not smelling anything out of the ordinary themselves, and ran after the spooked ghoul. Passing by Dewdrop, they dragged him along just in case the young ghoul was right. Dew was more than happy to tag along if it meant the possibility of discarding some ungrateful souls.

Phantom, well ahead of his packmates, threw open the large double doors of the Ministry and jumped over the front steps. The gravel spitting behind him as he sped down the driveway, your scent growing stronger with each step.

He skidded to a halt as he saw your visibly lifeless body laying near the gated entrance of the Abbey. Quickly making his way to your side, he gently picked you up and cradled your broken body in his lap. Ignoring the pain of the rocks and stones cutting into his legs, he attempted to calm his breathing once he noticed the rise and fall of your chest. Thank the dark Father you were still alive.

“Oh, Satan,” he choked out, his lavender eyes welling with tears as your face turned towards him. Your one eye swollen shut and your face adorned with all kinds of bruises and cuts.  Blood decorating your face like a painting and seeping through your outfit onto the gravel underneath.

“Hi,” you wheezed, trying to force a smile through the swelling.

“I can fix this,” Phantom sobbed as he frantically looked at the extent of your injuries. “I can fix you. You’re going to be just fine. Aether has been teaching me a lot, I know I can fix this,” he rambled.

Phantom’s violet Quintessent glow illuminated under his grey skin as he carefully ran his hand over your many wounds. The smaller cuts closing and reopening as he worked against his emotions. He placed his hand with the utmost care over a large cut on your cheek and forcefully shut his tear soaked eyes. Willing the Dark One to give him the power he needed to save you as he felt your essence begin to slowly slip through his fingers.

The other ghouls halted their run, looking on in horror as they saw the scene before them.

“Help me, please!” Phantom screamed in anguish.

[Next]

[nahoney22]

Hello my love 💚

I am back once again to send in another request for your 4000 followers celebration!

Congrats again 🥰

This time, I'm choosing my sweet little baby boy Tup 🥺 (x fem!reader)

This one is gonna be super fluffy. The fluffiest fluff to have ever fluffed. So much fluff that it makes you want to vomit out of pure sugary sweetness 💙

We're going with a Hallmark Christmas vibe. Deck the halls, baby! I'm talking about Christmas trees, glass ornaments, and colorful lights, kissing under the mistletoe, snow-covered streets, crackling fireplaces, hot cocoa, warm sweaters, sleigh rides, and lots of holiday cheer. No scrooges in this winter wonderland!

Here are a couple of prompts I found that went with the vibe: "Your hands are cold, let me warm them up," "I'll walk you home," "Take my coat, it's cold outside," and "Can I have this dance?"

As always, feel free to ignore my request! If it suits your fancy, then I can't wait to see what you come up with 🥰 (take your time, of course)

Please and thank you, with love 💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

4000 Follower Prompt List Celebration

Tup X F!Reader

SFW

prompts:

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Your hands are cold, let me warm them up.”

warnings: None, lots of fluff. Kisses. Love at first sight, meet cute. Female reader.

authors note: grrrr I wish I saw this in December when it was Christmassy BUT instead of waiting for 12 months let’s do it now 😆 idk what hallmark Christmas is thought ngl tho - thanks for the request @the-bad-batch-baroness ☀️

In the midst of Coruscant's bustling streets, a wintry ambiance enveloped the evening, with the air dense and chilly. Despite the approach of nightfall, the atmosphere remained aglow with the infectious spirit of the recent festive season.

And among the gleaming lights and shimmering tinsel adorning the street lamps, you navigated through the dusting of snow at your boots, determined yet cautious to evade any slips. Embracing yourself against the cold, you embarked on your homeward journey.

Grateful after being granted an early departure by your employer, you however found yourself thwarted by the weather-induced delay of your usual means of transport. So, opting to keep going on foot, you soon find yourself groaning as you fumble through your bag in search of your scarf and gloves. However, you quick to realise you had abandoned your gear at your workplace—a trek you were not planning to go back on.

Focused on avoiding a slip, your gaze remained fixed on the ground as you navigated through the snow and street. However, your brisk pace came to an abrupt halt when you collided with an unexpected figure, sending you to the ground.

“Kriff, sorry ma’am. Are you alright?” The voice sounded familiar, belonging to a Clone Trooper who had then extended a hand down to you.

As your eyes followed up past his hand and up his arm, the discomfort of the fall seemed to have dissipated as you grew captivated by the gaze of a remarkably handsome man.

Concerned, he inquired about your well-being, “Ma’am? Are you alright?” To which prompted a flush of embarrassment as you found yourself on the ground, staring up at him gormlessly.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You assure him of your condition and swiftly accepted his offered hand. But as he hauls you up with ease, you think you’re grounded only to then encounter a second stumble.

Grasping onto the Clone for support, his protective arms encircled you, preventing another nasty fall as your feet slip from under you. "Easy there, I've got you," he chuckled warmly, his gaze softening as your eyes met.

You hadn't been one to believe in love at first sight, yet an undeniable connection sparked within you towards this man. Perhaps it was the enchanting ambiance of the twinkling lights and falling snow, or maybe it was the combination of his helpfulness after you both bumped into each other accidentally.

"Th-thanks," you stammered, a blend of the wintry air and nervousness affecting your speech. His gentle smile and reassuring gaze, however, calmed your racing thoughts.

Concerned for your well-being, he asked softly, releasing his hold on you but remaining ready to assist if needed. "Didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"No," you replied, shaking your head, "as long as my head is still firmly attached, I'm good."

His chuckle resonated warmly and you don’t know why, but you felt like you could read this man. To which, you had hoped he wanted to get to know you more. And he did.

"The name's Tup," he introduced, extending his hand once more. You gladly slipped your hand back into his, reciprocating with your name. "It's nice to meet you."

"And you, though it would've been better under different circumstances," he remarked subtly, gesturing toward your snow-dusted attire, prompting a sheepish smile from you.

Before you could respond, he swiftly and apologetically interrupted, asking, "Don't suppose you would like to go for a drink with me?" Your eyes widened in surprise, mirroring his apparent astonishment at his own impromptu invitation.

"Sorry, that was forward. We've only just met," he acknowledged.

"Yeah," you replied simply, accompanied by a toothy grin.

"Yeah?" His face lifted, his eyes lighting up in response.

"I could really do with a warm drink.”

As you both hurriedly sought refuge from the cold, the tempting aroma of rich hot chocolate filled the air. Smiling at the satisfying hum that escaped your throat, Tup guided you to a pop-up market stall, where he procured steaming mugs of the comforting beverage before finding a place to sit.

"I have to admit," you began, gently blowing the steam off your mug, "I certainly didn't expect something like this to happen anytime soon. It's basically a cliche."

He looked at you with confusion, cradling his mug in his hands. "I don't quite catch on?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, in most cheesy romantic holomovies I've seen, this is basically a 'meet cute.' We collided, you, fortunately, happen to be handsome and offer a helping hand, and instead of parting ways, you asked me for a drink." Your eyes sparkled mischievously. "Or I could be totally wrong."

"N-No, no," he replied quickly, a hint of warmth coloring his neck. "I suppose when you put it like that, it is a cliche. But... I'll take it you like that kind of thing?" He gestured to the two of you enjoying a drink, sitting up a little straight to exude confidence.

"I really do," you replied softly, savoring a sip of your drink. "Mmm, this is lovely. Thank you, Tup."

The way you said his name made Tup feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "You're welcome."

Engaged in a quiet yet pleasant conversation, you both delved into each other's lives and aspirations. Classic questions about favourite colours, the stories behind tattoos, and alternate career paths flowed naturally.

From your time with Tup, you gathered that he was kind and had a penchant for playful yet rather terrible flirting. You observed him attempting to find a relaxed posture—arms shifting on and off the table, legs crossing and uncrossing, fingers nervously tapping against the mug. Even his compliments emerged more as questions than statements. Regardless, you found joy in his company.

Feeling Tup's nervous energy, you decided to discreetly guide him into a more comfortable interaction. Despite the cold, you feigned a fake shiver, cupping your hands over your mouth and blowing on your fingers. "Is it me, or did it get colder?" you remarked inconspicuously. Tup wasted no time reaching across the table, gently taking your hands in his.

"Your hands are cold," he observed with a frown, expressing a wish for spare gloves, "let me warm them up." His charming smile resonated, making your heart skip a beat. He closed his hand over yours, gently rubbing them to provide warmth. You felt bashful that your subtle hint worked, relieved that he didn't seem to mind holding your hands.

Engaged in a wholesome conversation, both of you seemingly oblivious to the unspoken connection formed through the idle caress of each other's hands, the impending departure lingered as the unspoken Bantha in the room.

Hours passed without notice, Tup surpassing his designated time to be back at the barracks. When you mentioned it was time for you to head back due to an early start, he stood up, taking your hand in his. "I'll walk you home," he declared, a genuine warmth in his eyes that mirrored the connection you both shared throughout the evening.

As Tup walked you home through the now quiet and serene streets of Coruscant, a comfortable silence settled between you. The city's festive lights cast a gentle glow, creating a magical atmosphere that mirrored the odd but welcome enchantment you felt in each other's company.

As you reached your destination, the realisation that the night was coming to an end tugged at both of you. Tup hesitated before speaking, "I had a wonderful time tonight."

You smiled, expressing your agreement. "Me too. It was unexpected but definitely a highlight."

He chuckled softly. "Fate has a way of bringing people together in the most surprising moments."

Standing at your doorstep, you found yourself reluctant to say goodbye. Tup, sensing the unspoken sentiment, reached for your hand once more. "I hope we can do this again."

You nodded, feeling a spark of warmth between you. "I'd like that."

Tup leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek in a tender goodbye. As you entered your home, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what the future might hold, grateful for the unexpected magic of that cold, festive night on Coruscant.

Masterlist

Prompt Masterlist

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[blondeboyfriend]

𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Kishibe x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Big thanks to @strawberrystepmom, the Patron Saint of Old Man Fucking, for beta reading this baby. (repost) [ SYNOPSIS ] Your first date gets interrupted by an unexpected visit from an old "friend". [ WORD COUNT ] 2.9k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, age gap (y/n is in her 20s, Kishibe is... Kishibe), alcohol, jealousy, Kishibe's a scumbag and possessive, y/n is wearing a skirt, pet name (kid), finger sucking, orgasm delay.

The last person you wanted to see on first date was your ex-fuck buddy, Kishibe. You couldn’t remember the last time you crossed paths with him. And to be honest you didn’t really want to. You wanted to focus on your date. They seemed like a good enough person. They came off as kind and saccharine and rather vacuous. A little boring, yes. But boring was good! It was safe; it was comfortable. The date was going well. Everything was falling into place.

But it all turned to shit the second Kishibe slid into your side of the booth. He didn’t even acknowledge your date, taking a couple minutes to finally greet them. A haze of alcohol whirled around him which was no surprise considering he was drinking whiskey neat. He positively reeked of alcohol; you felt like being in his mere presence would leave you intoxicated.

“How do you two know each other?”

“We—”

You elbowed him in the ribs which only made him laugh. Your measly attack was hardly harmful, but he played along and kept his mouth shut for the moment. You quickly realized you set yourself up for failure. You didn’t want to admit you met Kishibe at a gross nightclub and fucked him in the bathroom with little hesitation. That was the old you. The new you would never do something so lascivious… Or at least you hoped.

“Hiking club. I mean, a cake decorating class. Uh.” You winced as you realized you were just listing off hobbies. “Book club.”

You knew damn well you’d never encounter Kishibe on a hiking trail, a cake decorating class, or a fucking book club. But you hoped he’d play along regardless.

“Yeah, a book club,” he scoffed.

“How cool. What kind of stuff did you two read?”

Your eye twitched.

“Novels,” you spat out.

“Poetry,” he cooly said at the same exact time.

“Ah… Interesting. Can’t say I’m much of a reader,” you date demurred, nervously scratching the back of their head.

“You don’t look like the reading type,” Kishibe said, finishing off his drink. “No offense.”

Your date just smiled, almost as if they didn’t register the blatant insult. You felt like you were going to die and chugged your drink with a fervor you didn’t realize was possible.

“You guys are thirsty! I’ll go grab us another round.”

Your date waded through the crowd and made their way to the bar. Once they were out of earshot, Kishibe turned his attention to you.

“What an idiot.”

You punched his arm. “Be nice. I think I actually like them.”

“You really gonna keep ‘em around?”

“I’m hoping to. They’re sweet.”

“Since when do you like sweet?”

“Since I stopped talking to you.”

Kishibe went to respond but was interrupted by your date returning with three drinks in their arm, a precarious action if there ever was one. You noticed your date had switched it up and was now drinking whiskey, clearly mirroring the man across from them. They slid Kishibe’s drink over to him with a big, stupid smile on their face. They looked like a puppy seconds from getting kicked.

“Thanks,” Kishibe muttered before drinking his whiskey in one go.

Your date looked at you before following Kishibe’s lead and chugging down their drink. A sympathy of wet coughs spilled from their mouth.

“First time?”

“No,” your date hissed.

Kishibe purposefully avoided eye contact with them and stared intently at a shapely woman in tight, short dress. He muttered, “Coulda fooled me.”

You stomped on his foot, unable to bury away the pang of jealousy. He smirked without averting his lusty gaze. You imagined him taking her into the bathroom and fucking her from behind, biting down on her shoulder like he did yours so many times. You hated yourself for caring about what he did. The two of you weren’t sleeping together, let alone talking to each other anymore. You had been ignoring his calls and avoiding the shady haunts you would frequent together. He was a free man; he could go sleep with whoever he wanted and you had no room to protest. I mean, shit. You were on a date with someone. Your focus should’ve been on them.

“D—do you read much?” You date asked, the apples of their cheeks blushing.

Kishibe wordlessly got up and headed towards the bar, but more importantly the other woman.

You angrily blurted out, “Yeah! I guess!”

Your date frowned.

“Sorry,” you sighed and sipped your drink. “I read when I can. It’s hard to find the time.”

“Maybe we can read together or something! Motivate each other, you know?”

You tried desperately to stop thinking about Kishibe and focus on the kind person seated in front of you.

“I’d like that. Things are less daunting when you do them with someone else.”

Your date beamed. “Cool! You can pick the books obviously. I wouldn’t even know where to start,” they replied bashfully.

“That’s in my wheelhouse for sure,” you laughed.

This was nice. This was what you needed in life. Softness, tenderness, someone willing to do things with you that didn’t involve sex. It was a nice change of pace.

But like clockwork, Kishibe returned. He had an entire bottle of whiskey in his hands and slammed it down on the table. He slid back into the booth and put his hand on your thigh.

“I gotta stop going after lesbians…” He murmured to himself as he cracked open the bottle.

A wave of relief washed over you. You took solace in the fact he had absolutely zero gaydar.

“I—is that for the table?” Your date asked, pointing at the bottle.

“No, it’s all for me,” Kishibe responded.

Their eyes widened.

You jumped in to explain. “He’s being sarcastic.”

Kishibe was silent as he poured a sizable amount of whiskey into his glass. Your date pushed theirs over and watched nervously as Kishibe poured. It was significantly more than what the bar served as a single drink.

“Bet you can’t chug that.”

“I… I can,” your date stuttered.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, fearing they were trying to impress you.

“Let them live. Don’t be so controlling.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Eventually you grumbled something indecipherable and continued nursing your drink. You had no desire to play their games.

Kishibe and your date cheers before downing the whiskey. Your date looked like they got poisoned while Kishibe looked… Well, he looked the same. Immediately he filled the two glasses and stared down your date.

“Again?” He asked.

They nodded and drank down every last bit of whiskey in their glass. Kishibe wasn’t far behind. Your date looked to you, seeking approval but you found it difficult to muster any. Trying to outdrink your alcoholic ex-fuck buddy wasn’t exactly the key to your heart.

This went on until the bottle was just about empty. Kishibe and them made light conversation which revealed even more of their dimwittedness. You found it charming before, but now it was just embarrassing. It didn’t help that they were conversing with Kishibe of all people. His alcohol tolerance was high and he was capable of being articulate even if he was totally wasted. His talents were much more apparent when juxtaposed against their idiocy.

Your date looked like death was at their door, the devil patiently waiting for them to fall down and hit their head or choke on their own vomit.

“Ho—holy shit. Yo—you’re like the… Michael Jor—Jordan of drinking.”

“I’ll keep that compliment close to my heart. You up for one more?”

“I think he’s done, Kishibe,” you fretted, grabbing his arm as he went to fill your date’s glass.

“You done?”

“No fuckin’ way!”

Kishibe gave you a smug side-eye and filled two glasses. He passed one to your date.

Your date smiled like an idiot. “Ch—cheers!”

Kishibe didn’t bother and simply took a sip of his whiskey. Your date on the other hand slammed theirs.

“You two fuck already?” Kishibe asked matter-of-factly.

“Kishibe!”

“Not yet, but probably i—if this all go… goes well.”

“Aw, he thinks he’s gonna fuck you tonight. How precious.”

Kishibe slipped his hand under your tennis skirt. His rough palm started rubbing the inside of your thigh. You crossed your legs, trapping his hand between them. It wasn’t a great plan of action, but you assumed it would be a small deterrent.

“Sh—sorry that was vulgar,” your date looked at you with bloodshot eyes. “I’m reeeeeally sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe we should get going.”

Neither of them moved a muscle.

“I’m not done drinking, kid.”

Your date rested their head on the table. “An—and I ca—can’t move right… now.”

“See? We’re not goin’ anywhere for awhile. Might as well relax.”

You released Kishibe’s hand and hoped that would be the extent of his touches, but you were sorely mistaken. He started to rub your clothed cunt, the cotton of your underwear brushing up against your clit. You clenched your jaw and tried to find the wherewithal to push his hand away.

“Liiiiiiisten to th—the man. It’s nappy time.”

Your date seemed to drift away as their eyes closed.

“Stop it,” you whispered.

“Make me,” Kishibe purred in your ear. “Be a big girl and stop me.”

You rolled your eyes and stared at the table, hoping it would imbue you with the strength to leave on your own with your dignity intact.

“I don’t know why you’re pretending you’re not mine,” he said, breath hot against your ear.

He scooted closer to you and reached over, grabbing your breast.

“No bra? Hm, you were trying to get fucked tonight.”

“I was not. I just couldn’t find a clean one and this shirt doesn’t make it obvious because the fabric is so thick. And… Like fuck… Not everything I do revolves around getting your like dick hard. Plus I seriously have to do some laundry—why am I even telling you this?”

“I don’t know. I stopped listening once you started talking about textiles.”

That was one of the many reasons you ditched Kishibe. His casual indifference was attractive at times, but it wasn’t uncommon for it to make you feel like shit.

He pinched your clit between his fingers and you gasped. Your date reared their head and looked around.

“Y—you guys having fun!?”

“Very. We’ve needed to catch up,” Kishibe replied. “It has been,” he paused and looked at your frazzled face, “awhile.”

They gave a thumbs up before collapsing onto the table. You were plagued with guilt. Sure, this was a date, a first one at that, but you felt dirty. You should have known Kishibe was purposefully overpouring them, setting them up to blackout. Now that they were out of the way, he had full reign to do whatever he pleased.

“You know you want it,” he said, rubbing the wet spot blooming in your underwear.

He was right, but he didn’t need to say it.

“You could have told me to go the fuck away, but you didn’t. Now do me a favor and take off your underwear like a good girl.”

Your hands went under the table and you pulled down your underwear, bunching them up and putting them next to you in the booth. You didn’t want to lose them.

“You’re not gonna make me work for it? You’re gonna give it up that easy? I thought you were a new person these days, kid.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly.

He snickered and swiped his fingers along your slit. He held them up. They were coated in your fluids, glistening under the overhead lighting. Your eyes widened. There was no way you could’ve thought up an explanation had your date woke up.

“Lick ‘em clean for me.”

You glanced over at your sleeping date and slowly opened your mouth. It didn’t take long for Kishibe to slide his fingers inside. You ran your tongue along the pads of them, lapping up the remnants of your arousal.

“Atta girl,” he said, removing his fingers from your mouth.

He smirked and started playing with your folds. They were sticky with your fluids. It was embarrassing. You had started feeling wet the second Kishibe joined you on your date, but you’d never let him know that. That shit was going with you to your grave.

His rough fingers felt like heaven as they spread apart your folds, revealing your aching cunt. He prodded your hole, teasing it with his fingertip.

He whispered in your ear, “You want more?”

You silently nodded as he bit your earlobe.

He slipped two of his fingers inside you, curling them as he fucked you.

“Oh fuck,” you blurted out.

Your date shifted in their seat. “Wh—what’s goin’ on?!”

Kishibe slipped another finger inside you. “Nothing you need to worry about. Go back to sleep.”

His words were all it took to soothe them into a slumber.

“Keep it down or we’ll get caught… Unless that’s what you want,” he teased.

He stuck his hand up your shirt and began fondling your breasts. He rubbed your nipple with his thumb while he used the rest of his fingers to grope you. You struggled to stifle your whimpering. It simply felt too good. It had been awhile since anyone put their hands on you. Your body craved the touch of another.

“Might be fun if they wake up though. How would explain this transgression away? Is this part of our book club?”

He applied more pressure to your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

“No,” he said, lips against your neck.

He started sucking on it in an incredibly visible place like he always did. You didn’t know how you would explain away this transgression either. But to be honest you didn’t really care. At least not right now. The regret would work its way into your brain by morning… probably.

The second his sucking turned to biting you lost the ability to temper your whimpering. A small moan fell from your lips. Your eyes quickly darted over to your date who was fast asleep. You sighed in relief.

“Why don’t I lift up your shirt and leave a few marks on your tits.”

“That’s so obvious,” you muttered. “Someone,” you gestured towards the other bar patrons, “will see.”

He squeezed your erect nipple in between his fingers. “And?”

“T—too much.” You could barely form a sentence. “Not drunk enough for it.”

He smiled and thrust his fingers deeper into your cunt and began fucking you with them. There was no way you could contain yourself. Your orgasm was creeping up your spine. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you were a mess.

He let go of your breast and grabbed you by the chin, pulling you close and forcing you to look at him.

“I wanna fuck you so bad, wanna fill you with my cum so you remember who you belong to,” he hoarsley whispered.

You sighed, ecstasy overtaking you. The world seemed to melt away. There was no bar. There was no date sleeping in front of you. All that existed was Kishibe fingerfucking you into oblivion. Nothing else mattered to you anymore. Why bother changing your ways? Why try something new? Sweetness was overrated. A boring life full of cute romantic gestures was overrated. You wanted excitement. You wanted to immerse your soul in filth.

You covered your mouth, hoping it would muffle your debauched moans. Your eyes were fixed on your date, waiting for any sign of life. You were convinced you’d get caught, that they’d finally see you for what you really were.

Kishibe pulled his fingers away just as you felt yourself starting to climax.

“The only way you’re gonna come is if you leave with me and not that idiot.”

“Kishibe,” you whimpered. “Not fair. I’m so close.”

“I don’t care,” he said sweetly.

“I need to make sure they get home safe,” you said, eyes still fixed on your date.

“They’ll be fine. Call them a cab or a Lyft or whatever the fuck you people use.”

“Fuck. Fine. Just let me come please. It hurts,” you whined.

He smirked and resumed finger fucking you. You tossed your head back and moaned. A few patrons glanced over at you with grossed out looks on their faces, but they swiftly looked away and minded their own business.

You rutted against Kishibe’s hand.

“Look at me when you come,” he demanded.

You met his gaze. He looked so proud of himself. If you hadn’t been in the throes of rapture you would have kicked him in the balls. But no, you were ascending without a single thought in your head. Getting caught didn’t even register anymore. You were lost in your own body as it was overcome with pleasure. Your toes were curled and your back was arched. There was no hiding it from anyone. Once you finally came back down to earth you shoved Kishibe away.

“You mad at me now?” He asked, sucking his fingers clean.

“No.”

Kishibe snickered and gently roused your date.

“You need her to call you a cab?”

“Huh?” Your date looked at you, their eyes heavy-lidded. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

They slid out of the booth and immediately stumbled the second they tried to stand. Kishibe stood up and helped them to their feet.

Kishibe looked over his shoulder. “Call him something. I’ll keep him safe outside.”

You pulled out your phone and found your date a way home. You thought you’d feel guilty for everything, but you were actually relieved knowing you’d spend the night in Kishibe’s apartment. Comfort was ultimately found in familiarity and that’s what Kishibe was.

[liskantope]

It's often very hard to talk to someone about active feelings of severe discouragement about being able to achieve something, because of the way the other person will feel obligated to argue in an attempt to make me feel less pessimistic, and when I argue back (with what I view to be the relevant objective evidence) it just makes the other person feel visibly awkward. We're conditioned to want to encourage each other to keep trying and not to let someone feel hopeless. And, I guess the alternative -- that one should respond to such venting with "Yeah, you're pretty screwed, just give up man" -- doesn't seem great either. But sometimes people feel pretty screwed for a reason and might have to seriously consider that the most rational course of action is to just give up now rather than sink more cost into something that simply isn't going to pan out.

By the way, what I'm vagueing about here is the fact that my academic career seems (from my reading of the evidence) doomed after my current contract ends (by which time I'll be a decade out of my PhD). But my point applies (rather more loosely) to other things I'm failing at as well, or to endeavors that other people are failing at.

Meanwhile, someone who encounters me from an outside perspective and feels no obligation to a validating friend (an actual example being a woman I had a virtual date with back in the fall, who then canceled our developing plans for an in-person date when she found out about my career situation) may wonder, not unreasonably, why I continue year after year delaying my geographic/personal stability in order to stay on the academic job market on the offchance that my luck changes when almost all concrete evidence seems to point in the other direction. It actually looks pretty irrational from their perspective, and I don't quite know how to justify myself except to wave my arms in the direction of "everyone in my close personal and professional life tells me to keep trying and not to give up".

[novaksupremacy]

The Veiled Law of Affection- Chapter 3

The Veiled Law of Affection Chapter 3

by PKJ @novaksupremacy

Word Count: 5232

Read Part 2

         A sedan pulled up into the black tar parking lot of the Seaside Heights motel. Fin ran up to meet it as ESU got ready to set up in one of the rooms. He pulled the door open and helped Casey out, her face paler than usual, her heart sunk somewhere underneath the cab.

         “I told them you’re here to make sure everything’s done by the book,” Fin whispered in Casey’s ear as he fitted the ADA for a flak jacket. “Not sure if Liv told you but I won’t be your Judas on this one Case, I’ve got you and Liv’s back.”

         She turned and showed him a look of gratitude as he finished strapping her vest. Liv had briefly mentioned their copy room encounter and after a short panic attack, she had been reassured that Fin wouldn’t be ratting them out to their superiors any time soon. “Thank you” she mouthed and placed her hand on his shoulder.

         Eckerson went rushing passed them following ESU as they set up their mobile command in one of the adjacent rooms. “Is that?” Casey started to ask.

         “Yeah,” Fin curled his lip, “but don’t worry. Ain’t no love lost there,” he rolled his eyes putting his hand on top of hers to lead her into the building.

         “Where are we with the fiber optics?” Eckerson commanded, “I need a picture up, now!” He brushed passed Casey. He looked at her up and down and kept moving.

         “One more minute,” Fin said shaking off his vest, “room phone is disconnected plus we got a generator in case we gotta cut the juice.”

          Eckerson nodded, annoyed at the delay, “Who’s the chick?” He tossed his head in Casey’s direction. She could immediately feel herself tense up. If he tried to kick her out, she’d die, she was a raw nerve as it was with Liv in the line of fire.

          “That chick is ADA Casey Novak. She’s here to make sure you don’t screw anything up. Even if he is an escaped convict all the NYPD needs is another damn lawsuit on its hands” the detective clapped back. He looked over at Casey and nodded, a simple “I got you”

          “Fine,” the deputy marshal shook his head, “just, stay over there.”

          “There’s a limited view into the room.” One of the ESU officers stated as the video feed went live.

           “What’s his count?”

           “Three. All moving.”

           “Pictures up!”

           Olivia’s phone started ringing as Mike, the man who had escaped from prison only the day before, rushed to her, gun aimed at her sternum. “Hand it over!” he growled. “Who’s calling?” He flipped the phone towards her, the gun in his other hand never wavering.

           “It’s my partner. They want to negotiate,” the brunette detective spoke calmy as she tried to keep the tension from rising.

           “I don’t want to talk,” the convict said with his voice full of distress.

           Casey felt herself break out into a cold sweat as the escaped convict smashed Olivia’s phone into the cheap dirty carpeting of that motel room. A deep sense of dread setting in that at any moment she may watch them shoot the one person she’s ever cared for this much right in front of her eyes.

          “The Marshal’s are gonna have sharpshooters all around us, you’re going to have to talk.” She kept her tone consistent.

          “That’s all right, they gotta know I’ve got a pretty marshal as a hostage. They’re not gonna fire on one of their own.”

          The fiery ADA felt the knife twist in her gut when he called Olivia pretty, it made her sick to hear her objectified in the slightest especially by a deranged gunman.

          “I’m not a marshal,” Liv offered, “I’m a detective with the NYPD. My name is Olivia Benson. I’m gonna show you my shield.”

          “You’re gonna keep your hands right where I can see them,” Mike shouted reminding her he had a gun pointed at her.

          She looked towards, Lee, the other hostage. “Hurting Lee isn’t going to help you.”

          “Lady, I don’t want to hurt him,” he said through gritted teeth, “I just want him to talk to me.”

          “Okay, whatever it is you need, I can help.” She said soft spoken, all of her negotiation training coming to a head in this moment, “I just need you to trust me, okay?”

          “I don’t need you,” the gunman snarled, the barrel of his gun now pointed at his ex-stepson, “Go on, get the hell out.” He tossed his head in the direction of the motel door.  

           “What?” Liv asked as she tried not to react.

           “LEAVE!” he shouted. “I’m not gonna stop you.”

           Benson refused to move as Mike grabbed her and threw her towards the door, “I’m not leaving.”

           Casey’s heart sank in her chest, “Not like this, please not like this”, she couldn’t breathe. “Come on baby get out of there.” She could feel her face trembling and she brought her hand up to it to try and hide her quivering lower lip.

           “Greenlight, take the shot. Through the wall?” Eckerson commanded trying to get one of his snipers to take the gunman out.

           Cragen walked in just as this was happening, “What the hell is going on?”

           Fin breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his supervisor, “Cap’n”

           “You can’t shoot with her in there,” Cragen commanded. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Casey standing in the corner, clearly distressed.

           “That’s my call,” Eckerson scoffed,

           “And that is MY detective in there,” the captain raised his voice, the way a protective father would. “You need to negotiate!” He moved towards Casey and put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped but relaxed once she saw it was Cragen.

           “Hey,” she said quietly.

           “Hey Casey, what are you doing here?” He asked her in a low, soothing tone seeing how upset she was by what she was witnessing.

           “I asked her to come, Cap” Fin offered up, “figured the PD could do without another lawsuit.”

           Cragen looked at Fin, then back at Casey, he knew that couldn’t be the whole story but for now he took it at face value. He gave her a soft smile, “She’s real tough, kid. She’s gonna be just fine.”

           Casey looked up at him still halfway holding her trembling lip steady, half chewing the skin around her nails. She couldn’t even speak at this point, she just looked at him and nodded silently, a single tear sliding down her face.

           All the attention turned towards the screen as Liv’s voice became audible again over the arguing, “Listen to me Mike, you’re not a murderer. Don’t become one. Your mother loves you and wants to see you again, so why don’t you put the gun down and walk out of here with me.”

           “Mackenzie’s got a shot.” The deputy marshal uttered excitedly.

           Fin’s eyes got wide, “Don’t do it.”

           “It’s not your call.”

           “They’re talking,” the detective stressed.

           “Give her a chance,” Cragen reiterated.

           Eckerson saw that Olivia had actually calmed down a bit and rolled his eyes, “Mack, hold your position.”

           After a few more minutes of back and forth, Liv gets Mike to agree he’ll walk out after talking to his son. The phone call went well until the other hostage, Lee began getting agitated and accusatory. The brunette stepped in between them and managed once again to de-escalate.

           “I’m gonna take the gun Mike, okay.” She said, a slight twinge of panic was noticeably.

           The convicts face softened as he lowered his weapon and Liv covered it with her hands to retrieve it. As she did so Eckerson gave the signal to fire and a rifle shot rang out.

           Casey covered her face upon hearing the shot, too afraid to look. She heard someone yell “Go! Go!” She sank to her knees fearing the worst. As she opened her eyes, she was alone in the room. She darted her attention to the AV screen, Liv was okay. She sat back against the wall and let all the emotions flow out through silent sobs.

*******

           The redhead paced back and forth in the parking lot, she wasn’t truly going to believe Liv was okay until she saw her with her own two eyes. She watched as they loaded Mike onto a stretcher and into the back of a bus and ESU got in their vehicles and exited the parking lot. Her stomach was killing her, still no Liv. What felt like an eternity later, Fin and Cragen emerged from the stairwell. Casey thought she was going to pass out, she only saw the two of them. As they got closer to her side of the parking lot though, through the gap between them, she finally saw her and was able to take a deep breath. Liv was walking towards her, hair tossed about, flak jacket still on. Before she could even speak Casey threw her arms around Liv’s neck and hugged her tight. She didn’t care if Cragen knew, she just needed to know she wasn’t dreaming.

           “Casey, Casey I’m okay. Casey you’re squeezing me and I still have this vest on. I can’t breath” she chuckled, patting the redhead on the back.

           “Shit, sorry” she pulled back. Liv could tell she had been crying.

           “Hey you look like you could use some lunch.” The brunette gently grabbed Casey’s arm and looked towards Fin and Cragen. “Okay?”

           The captain was starting to piece the scenario together and nodded, “Yeah I have your statement, we’ll meet you back at the stationhouse.”  

           “I’m not really hungry,” the younger woman said quietly once they were in the car. “I just need to look at you for a minute.” She cupped Liv’s face in her hands and stared deep into her eyes and kissed her, just in case it was all a dream and she was still in that motel room with the marshals. She gave a faint smile and grabbed Liv’s hand as they drove off.

*******

           Subsequently upon returning to the precinct and realizing that the evidence pointed to Jeremy, Lee’s cousin, Andy Eckerson and Liv paid him a visit and questioned him.

           Jeremy smirked, “You’ve got to be kidding me, let’s see you prove it.” He bucked.

          The deputy marshal saw red and grabbed the young man by the throat throwing him up against one of the support beams of the warehouse. “You son of bitch, you’ve been lying for ten years.”

          “Andy!” Liv scolded.

          “An innocent man almost died because of you”

          “Andy! Let him go!” Liv raised her voice, “that’s enough.” She pulled him off the suspect and dragged him towards the door.

******

          “So this whole time it was the cousin?” The redhead asked twirling her pasta on her fork as they ate a quick dinner before both having to get back to the office. This case had kept them at the office way longer than either of them would’ve liked. “Need me to get you a warrant for DNA?” she asked taking a bite and then reaching for her cellphone.

          “About that,” the brunette sighed cutting into her chicken parmigiana. “We’re gonna have a problem there. Andy…”

          “Andy, what?” her face dropped as she stopped dialing.

          “We were questioning Jeremy and he got really smug and Andy grabbed him and choked him up against one of the columns. I practically had to drag him out of there. I couldn’t get him to stop.”

          Casey put the phone down, “It’s not your job to make sure the fed doesn’t lose his cool.” She quipped and went back to her dinner.  The rest of the meal was pretty quiet until they returned to the office. The red head mostly pushed her food around her plate, her stomach in knots.

          “I have some DD-5s for you at my desk.” Liv finally broke the silence opening the door for Casey.

          “Okay babe, I’ll follow you.” The redhead felt bad for being so quiet throughout dinner. She wasn’t mad at the detective, she was still shaken up from earlier and shaking mad at Eckerson who not only put her person in harms way but was now screwing up their case. When they got back to the desk he was there waiting for them.

          “Can you get us a warrant to test Jeremy’s blood.” Andy asked, practically staring daggers at Casey.

          The redhead rolled her eyes as she put the briefs and Liv’s DD-5s  into her bag, “Are you sure you want me to?” she snapped.

          “Why wouldn’t I?” he retorted.

          “Because I’d bet my paycheck,” she shifted her attention towards him. She had lost any patience she had left for this man, “that Jeremy will counter with a brutality complaint.”

          Liv rested her glare on Eckerson which was very “I told you so” in demeanor.

          His face dropped as he turned his anger away from the ADA and towards the detective, “What the hell did you tell her?!”

          “The truth,” Liv stated bluntly.

          Casey stared at the brunette as she gave him what for, “God she is so gorgeous when she’s riled up”, her thought interrupted by more complaining from Andy.

          “The truth is he’s a liar and a rapist!” His voice was getting louder.

          The younger woman turned on her heel and lit into him, “Okay I’m trying to protect you and the integrity of this investigation.” She brought her tone back down as she faced Liv. “I suggest you try to make your case without a warrant for Jeremy’s DNA” Casey leaned closer as she said this and put her hand on the brunette’s arm. She made her “I’m super serious right now, this will bite everyone in the ass” face and walked out of the squad room towards her office.

          Olivia looked at Eckerson who was just standing there with this dumb founded look, “typical testosterone driven male”, she thought. She rolled her eyes and stormed off in the opposite direction as Casey but then made a loop around and headed towards her office.

          “Hey,” she rapped softly on the door frame, “I’m sorry about the warrant. Andy is...”

          “What? Your ex-boyfriend? A hot head?” Casey quipped. The fiery young woman was clearly distraught, tossing folders around her desk, closing drawers a little too hard.

          “Hey, hey, Casey!” Liv walked over and tried to place a gentle hand on her arm to still her.

          She yanked her arm away, putting her hand up, palm out. “No,” her eyes were full of tears as she tried to choke back sobs, “I don’t care about him! Do you understand that I thought I was going to watch that man shoot you today? I thought I was going to lose you Olivia!” She had been holding it back all day. It all just came bubbling up to the surface.

          “Case…” Liv’s eyes filled with tears, “I…”

          “Why didn’t you leave when he offered to let you go?” Her face was red, the tears started to fall, she couldn’t contain it anymore.

          “I will never leave someone in the direct path of danger. At that moment both Lee and Mike were in danger from different perspectives. I couldn’t…That’s just who I am Casey.” She stepped towards the redhead again to comfort her.

          Casey backed up again putting her desk between them, "Even if it leaves you in the path instead?" Her eyes were so bleary she could barely see.

          "That's the job, Casey! You should know that better than anyone."

          The younger woman leaned her palms against the desk, making eye contact with Liv, her tears now flowing freely. “I was terrified!” She slammed her hand against the desk. “I heard that gun go off and I couldn’t, I couldn’t look.” She started to hyperventilate. “I know we haven’t been seeing each other very long but if you died,” She was hysterical. She stepped out from behind the desk, trembling, her lower lip shaking uncontrollably, “I…I might.” She threw her hands down at her side unable to stop crying.

          The stoic detective closed the gap between them, her heart aching at the redheads unwavering display of sentiment for her, and wrapped Casey in her arms, “Shh honey, shh I’m right here.” She kissed her temple and held her tight. “It’s okay, I’m right here. Let’s sit for a minute.” She lead the counselor to the sofa and sat down with her, “Come on baby just take some deep breaths for me.”

          Casey laid her head across Liv’s lap and pulled her feet up on the couch. She inhaled deep through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to match her breath pattern with that of her lover’s. It didn’t take long for her to pass out from sheer exhaustion. Liv stroked her hair away from her face in a soothing pattern.

          A little while later there was a gentle knock on the door, “Hey Counselor,” Elliot started as he walked through the door.

          Liv waved her free hand trying to get his attention without waking Casey. She put her finger to her lips to signal him to quiet down.

          The other detective was highly confused, a pile of DD-5’s in his hand. “Is she okay?” he mouthed.

          “Rough day,” his partner frowned and mouthed back.

          Elliot quietly placed the stack on Casey’s desk and walked back towards the door. He furrowed his brow. If anything, he figured Benson would be the one out of sorts after earlier. Then again, they were way more used to that type of situation than the litigator.

          “Goodnight Liv.” He mimed and headed out.

          It was about 10pm when Casey finally started to stir. She sat up sharply, not realizing she was still in her office. The day’s events flooded back to her. Panic set back in until she laid eyes on Liv. 

          "Hey, it's okay, you just dozed off and I didn't want to wake you." Liv said softly, reaching out for her hand to soothe her.

          "You stayed this whole time?" she said groggily.

          She rubbed her thumbs over Casey's hand and pulled her back into the crook of her arm. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

          "I just...I know I yelled a lot earlier." She snuggled against Liv’s chest and listened for her heartbeat.

          Liv chuckled, "Casey, my sweet Casey, if you thought that was going to make me leave you alone on a couch in your office, you've got me all wrong. If anything, it just showed how much you care about me.

          The redhead pulled her tighter, "I do care about you, very much."

          "I know Case, I care about you too." She kissed the top of her head. "You need some sleep and I have to interrogate Lee in the morning and try to get him to tell us the truth since Andy screwed up the warrant. My place is closer, why don't you stay and let me take care of you? I don't like the thought of you going uptown this late by yourself."

          Casey looked up at her with wide, puppy eyes and smiled, "Okay, but only because I'm not letting you out of my sight lest you run off into a hostage situation again." She placed her hand on the brunette's chin and took her into a deep, passionate kiss which the detective returned and then lifted the ADA to her feet.

********

          Casey was still out of it from her earlier panic attack when they got to Liv’s apartment. She was reserved, quiet. The brunette took her jacket from her shoulders and hung it on the hook, “You want some tea, honey?”

          “Huh?” Casey snapped out of her daze, “I’d love some, umm I need to wash my hair, the salt from the shore...” she started getting choked up again thinking about being at the motel earlier.

          “Shh, let me run you a bath,” Liv said softly squeezing the counselor’s hand and then walking towards the bathroom. The redhead pulled her back. The brunette turned back, “What’s wrong baby?”

          “Don’t go,” Casey whimpered.

          “Oh honey,” the detective frowned, “here.” She sat the young ADA down at the dining room table and moved to the sink to fill the kettle. She stood behind Casey’s chair and massaged her shoulders.

          The redhead rolled her neck, she loved Liv’s touch, it seemed to be the only thing that brought her comfort these days. Then the kettle whistled and she almost leapt 3 feet off the chair.

          “Shit Casey! I’m so sorry baby.” The brunette bolted and turned the stove off grabbing the kettle with a towel and taking it off the heat. She fixed a cup of tea and took Casey’s hand, “Come on let get you cleaned up honey.” Liv sat her down on the edge of the tub and put the cup down on the sink. She knelt next to the redhead and turned on the bath faucet, adjusting the temperature to make sure it was comfortable. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, beautiful”

          Casey looked down at the detective who was looking back up at her tenderly, “Thank you,” she said barely able to make sound, “I’m sorry.”

          Liv lifted her shirt over her head and let it fall to the floor. She lifted her hand to brush the ADAs cheek, “For what honey?”

          Casey grabbed her hand and held it against her face, “for being a mess, for being a burden.”

          “Baby you are definitely not a burden. I want you here, I want to take care of you. I know what I said earlier, and yeah it is the job, but I worried I wouldn’t see you again either.” The brooding woman’s eyes welled up. “I…I want you here.” She knew what she really wanted to say but she couldn’t bring herself to get the words out.

          The red head leaned down still holding Liv’s hand to her face and took her other hand and put it on the nape of her lovers neck and leaned forward. She kissed her with every fiber of her being and then rested her forehead against her lover’s. “I…wouldn’t want to be anywhere else” They both knew what they weren’t saying and for now that would be enough.

          The detective finished helping her get undressed and eased her down into the tub. She placed the tea down on the side where Casey had been sitting. “I’ll be right in the bedroom, okay? I’ll give you some privacy, but I’ll leave the door open, sound good?” 

          The redhead nodded as she started to wash up, “Thank you.”

          Liv leaned her head against the door frame, “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

          A little while later Casey emerged from the bathroom, her hair damp and wavy, wearing one of the brunette’s old NYPD Academy t-shirts and some sleep shorts.

          The detective looked up from her book, “There she is,” she smiled, “hey beautiful.”

          The redhead laughed, “Hey yourself.” She walked over to the side of the bed and ran her fingers through Liv’s hair. The brunette gently tugged Casey down to the bed, scooting back and making room to spoon her. Casey pulled her arms tight around her almost as if she was trying to make sure she wouldn’t disappear. After a few minutes she turned to face Liv, studying every detail, not wanting to forget a single line, a single inch of her face. “Liv,” she whispered.

          “Yeah, Case?” she whispered back.

          “Touch me please.” She kissed the brunette, soft and slow, a sense of urgency in her voice, “please?”

          “You sure?” She wanted nothing more than to quell Casey’s every desire, but she needed to check in and make sure this wasn’t brought on by the trauma of the day.

          “Please baby,” the young prosecutor whimpered, her lip shaky, “I need you.” She reached for the detective’s hand and brought it to her body, “please.” Her breath hitched as Liv penetrated her. She pulled Liv’s free hand under her shirt to her breast and slid her tongue softly into the brunettes mouth. Casey moaned quietly as Liv’s tongue explored her with a gentle passion. She could feel herself tighten as her lover’s fingers grazed against her hardened nipple.

         “I need you too,” the brooding cop whispered in quiet breaths. Casey reciprocated, bringing her hand to her lover’s heat matching her pace.

         Their eyes locked on each other, both quietly mewling, hot gasps full of desire. The redhead nodded, letting out long moans as if to say, “now”. As she did both watched each other’s expression as they climaxed, crashing over the edge simultaneously. The lover’s suckled on each other’s fingers tasting themselves and then dove into a long, passionate kiss. Their bodies entangled.

        Casey smiled as she stared at Liv again and then pressed her face tight to her chest to listen to her heart beating. She was calm again and allowed herself to bask in the afterglow. They always held each other close after but something was different tonight, there was more than just wanton need for physical touch. Something changed.

       “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” she said quietly.

       “What? It’s my apartment.” Liv giggled.

       The redhead snuggled her closer, “If I close my eyes, don’t go anywhere while they’re closed.”

       The brunette kissed the top of her head, “I promise,” she whispered, “I’ll hold you tight until we get up tomorrow.

*******

       Liv woke up hours before the alarm and just watched Casey breathe in and out, who was still clinging tight to the brunette, head against her chest. She reached over a few minutes before it was set to sound and switched off the alarm. After the incident with the kettle last night, she didn’t want Casey going through the ceiling. She kissed the head of the gorgeous woman in her bed and stroked her hair. “I,” she started to whisper but the redhead stirred.

       “What baby?”

       “Huh? Nothing Case honey, it’s just time to get up, we both have early days today.”

       “Mmm 5 more minutes.” She brought her hand up to stroke Liv’s face and consume her with a kiss.

       “Just 5.”

       “Mhm just 5.”

       “I can think of a better way to spend the next 5 minutes”

       “Oh?” she giggled as she kissed the brunette again and rolled herself on top of her.  

*******

       The case was finally over, Lee had confessed, Mike was going to be a free man after his stay in the hospital and finally got to meet his son. Olivia was just staying to finish up the paperwork before heading out. Andy walked up to her desk announcing that he was going back to his post in Virginia.

       “I could stay a couple more days?” He leaned over Liv’s desk.

       “Andy,” she sighed, she spoke quietly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

       “How about one drink before I leave?” he sat on the edge of her desk, still trying to plead his case.

       “Its not gonna work between us.”

       “Why not.” He pouted like a petulant child.

       “Because I have enough insanity in my life, and I have someone right now who brings me peace. Stability.”

       “Is it serious?”

       “Yeah I think it is.” She smiled down at her desk and continued to write her notes.

       It was right about then that Casey walked up to the squad room and upon seeing them talking decided to hang back as to not have too much further interaction with the deputy Marshall. She was leaning on the door frame to the squad room as he turned from Liv and began to walk out.

      “So much for not interacting,” she thought to herself.

       “Hey,” he stopped as he was leaving, “You and Olivia seem pretty close, am I right?”

       “Sure,” the ADA nodded and shrugged her shoulders.

       “She said she has a pretty serious boyfriend, any idea who the guy is? Is it Elliot?” he inquired in a serious tone, he sounded like a wounded dog.

       Casey had to control her urge to hysterically laugh in the man’s face. “What no, of course its not Elliot! He’s married! With four kids! Liv said she had a boyfriend? Her exact words?”

       “Well, no she said she was seeing someone who brought her ‘peace’” he made a face and mimed air quotes with his hands, “and that it was pretty serious. So that sounds like her having a boyfriend to me.”

       Casey looked down and smirked, licking her lip. She tried really hard not to blush and then looked back at Eckerson, “Yeah, sure does. I have no idea though.”

       He shrugged, “Oh well. Goodnight.”

       “Goodnight,” she had already stopped paying attention as he walked past her and turned her attention to the beautiful detective at the desk, only lamp still on and sauntered over.

       “So Detective,” she spread her arms out and leaned over the desk to kiss the brunette’s forehead.

       “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Liv cooed smiling up at the redhead.

       Casey chuckled, “Thank you,” a sly smile stretching across her face, “rumor has it, Detective Benson, that you have a top-secret boyfriend and that things are ‘pretty serious’” she made a face and mimed air quotes, mocking Andy.

       Liv smiled, her mouth agape, like that first night at the bar when Casey asked her if she liked women, “I didn’t say I had a boyfriend. I said I had someone who brought me peace and that it was serious. I was talking about you Casey. You may be the SVU ADA but you’re my ADA.” She stood up, grabbed her jacket off the back her chair and moved towards Casey.

      Casey wrapped her arms around Liv's waist and pulled her closer. “Is that so detective?” she kissed her hard, deep, knowing they were the only two in the squad room. It felt like they were the only two people in the city in that moment. She took her finger under the brunette’s chin and ran her thumb across her lower lip, “Mmm my detective”

      Olivia’s chest swelled with emotion at the sound of being Casey’s detective, “What do you say we grab a bottle of something and enjoy the pleasure of each other’s company for the rest of the evening, Counselor?” She turned the redhead around towards the door, holding her around the waist from behind. “Preferably with you on top of me,” she kissed the nape of prosecutor’s neck, “naked.”

     Casey closed her eyes and leaned into it for a moment, “Mmm I don’t know, Detective. Your serious boyfriend might get jealous.”

     Liv tightened her grip and then smacked the redhead on the ass. “That’s it Novak, you’re so punished.”

     The younger woman bit her lip and pretended to run away from Liv who playfully chased her all the while still holding on to her hips. She pulled the brunette to her side and wrapped her arms around her waist again as Liv wrapped her arm around Casey’s shoulder and lightly kissed her temple as they walked out.

     Cragen, whom neither woman had realized was still in his office watched the whole exchange through the blinds. He stood there, shaking his head, chuckling to himself. “Good for Liv, she deserves to be happy. Those kids make a cute couple.” He grabbed his keys and jacket and turned off the lamp on his desk.

Read Part 4

[bonefall]

so are wild boar still considered “extinct” locally by the humans? given that wild boar in england are currently considered extinct, even though there are pockets of population

(context: i was looking up animals that england has driven to extinction with my partner last night because we were both feeling Some Kind Of Way about species conservation, and how england is basically the worst monster historically in terms of driving entire species to extinction, and continues to be hugely negligible. then i remembered boars in better bones i was like “aren’t there boars?” and then saw that they were also considered extinct, which surprised me)

Yeah England is a fucking monster in terms of bad conservation, and its colonial influence in how OTHER places view conservation can't be understated. But anyway I'll save that for another time

(But like it fucks me up that you guys only have one protected river in the whole UK and it's mostly in Wales. What the fuck. It's been 30 years and they're just now thinking about adding another. Brits in the audience who can i kill for you? If we throw someone in the thames maybe they'll dissolve)

Here's the thing I have in mind; England is so fucked that people don't even know how fucked it is. Do you know how important hogs are to a mixed-oak woodland? What types of moors need burning, grazing, or being left alone? That the entire island of Great Britan is supposed to have a thriving freshwater pearl mussel population? That England isn't supposed to have pine forests?

There is so so so much here to cover and talk about, AND I'm telling this story from the perspective of cats! They have to have encountered the things to know about them, even if it was culturally!

And what that means is that I am willing to bend a couple of things SO that I can include them as part of the story! Things that SHOULD be here, that should be or ARE being reintroduced, especially when they're lesser known.

(In fact I think your boar thing is a perfect example. You're telling me the story I want to hear-- that you heard something offhand, went "woah arent those in this work I'm a fan of?" And then you learned more. Goal accomplished!)

In my head I file boars and mussels under the "Eagle Exception." Something that, with a bit of alt history, could be seen in this environment.

It's based off the canon eagles (which ironically I'm massively downplaying in my rework of the BB!Tribe). The golden eagle has been extinct in England for a very long time, but it's right there in canon, so logically there could be similar animals or reintroduction projects.

List so far;

(Also BB!Great Britan is called Albion to mark that it's a little different.)

Freshwater Pearl Mussels (extinct in White Hart, populated in Sanctuary Lake)

Boars (rare in White Hart, populated in Sanctuary Lake. Replacing the majority of deadly badger and fox encounters because badgers arent bears and foxes arent coyotes, Erin :/)

Golden Eagle (exclusive to Tribe mountain)

Beavers (Being actively reintroduced to parts of Albion in the 2010s)

Wolves (extinct)

Lynxes (suspected extinct; there may be some around specifically because I want to make an example of how non-domestic cats in this universe are non-sapient.)

Salmon (uncommon in White Hart, populated in Sanctuary Lake)

Atlantic Sturgeon (exclusive to Sanctuary Lake, rare even there)

Medicinal Leech (dying population in White Hart since Chelford expansion, extinct in Sanctuary Lake)

Additionally I'm keeping my eye on the European Buffalo (wiseant) reintroduction, but that's not in my modeled region and I don't want to jump the gun on it. Last I checked the project JUST managed to get its bull this year after a long 2020-induced delay

[godsfavdarling]

chapter 02

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc

summary: Spencer's delayed communication leaves Molly questioning their bond.

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3 my masterlist

warnings: none for this chapter

words: 1,7k

Spencer sat at his desk at the BAU, sorting through paperwork on a Monday after the baby shower. The atmosphere still carried the warmth from the celebration over the weekend. As Spencer focused on his work, Derek approached with a friendly smile, leaning against the edge of Spencer's desk.

"Hey, Reid," Derek greeted. "I heard the baby shower was a hit. Sorry I couldn't make it. How was it?"

Spencer looked up from his paperwork. "It was great, actually. JJ and Will seemed really happy, and everyone had a good time."

Derek nodded, then a curious expression crossed his face. "By the way, how's Molly?"

Spencer's eyebrows furrowed in surprise. "Molly? How did you...?"

Derek chuckled, interrupting him. "Garcia couldn't resist spilling the beans. She said you two hit it off."

Spencer's cheeks tinted with a faint blush. "Oh, well, yeah. Molly's really nice. We shared a good conversation."

Derek grinned, nudging Spencer playfully. "Reid, you sly dog. Any chance of a second date?"

Spencer stammered, "I don't know. We'll see. It was just a friendly chat. We exchanged phone numbers."

Derek, still grinning, continued the playful banter, "So... did you make use of that number yet? Smooth moves?"

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. "No, not yet. I don't want to be too much, you know?"

Derek raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Come on, Reid, a little 'too much' never hurt anyone. Go for it. You never know unless you try."

Spencer sighed, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Maybe you're right. We'll see how it goes."

Derek clapped him on the shoulder as he headed back to his desk. "That's the spirit, Reid. Keep me posted on the developments. And remember, I'm the expert on these matters."

Spencer chuckled, getting back to his paperwork but unable to suppress a small smile.

Suddenly Garcia approached them with a stack of files in her hands. Her normally vibrant demeanor seemed to have shifted into a more serious mode, and the sight of her with files in hand indicated one thing - a new case.

"Hey, lovebirds," Garcia said, her tone serious, "I hate to interrupt your social hour, but we've got a case."

Spencer and Derek exchanged a quick glance before Spencer responded, "What's the situation, Garcia?"

Garcia handed the files to Spencer, her expression still somber. "It's a tough one. Unsub's been escalating, and the local authorities in Montana are requesting our expertise."

Spencer took a deep breath, all traces of playfulness gone.

.......................

The morning light streamed into Molly's apartment, casting a warm glow that illuminated the space. Her kitchen table was scattered with papers—students' tests awaiting her attention. However, her thoughts were far from the papers in front of her.

With each passing day, she found herself eagerly awaiting Spencer's call. It's been a week since they've met. She couldn't shake off the magnetic pull she felt toward him since that encounter at the baby shower. His intelligence, paired with the endearing quirks, left a lasting impression on her.

As she went about her daily routine, her thoughts often wandered to Spencer, and the soft-spoken eloquence that accompanied his words. Molly found him beautiful in a way that went beyond the surface.

However, Spencer possessed a distinctive physical appearance that Molly couldn't help but find captivating. His face was framed by tousled chestnut hair, which fell gracefully across his forehead, occasionally drifting into his expressive hazel eyes, which sparkled with intelligence and curiosity.

His facial features were a harmonious blend of sharp angles and soft contours, giving him an almost ethereal quality. High cheekbones accentuated his face, and a pair of expressive eyebrows added character to his thoughtful expressions. Despite the occasional furrow of concentration, his face carried an air of approachability that drew people in.

Beneath the intellect and curiosity was a lean and lanky frame. While he may not have had the imposing presence of some, there was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself, making him stand out in a crowd. Molly found herself captivated not just by his physical features, the unique blend of intelligence and approachability but also by the way he dressed. 

She appreciated his unique sense of style, a departure from the conventional attire she often encountered. Spencer's wardrobe choices reflected an individuality that stood out, even in a room full of people.

His penchant for slightly mismatched ties and the comfortable, yet slightly rumpled, look of his clothing added a charming touch to his overall appearance. Molly admired the authenticity in the way he presented himself, appreciating the fact that he didn't conform to conventional fashion norms for a guy his age.

Observing young men who dressed similarly wasn't a common sight for Molly, and she found it endearing. The way he carried himself, coupled with his unique fashion sense, only added to the allure that had captivated Molly's thoughts since the day they met.

However, as the days passed without any communication from Spencer, doubts crept in, making Molly question whether she had misinterpreted the connection or if perhaps Spencer's reserved nature was hindering him from taking the next step. Perhaps he saw their interaction as nothing more than a pleasant conversation at a social event.

Nevertheless, Molly couldn't deny the lingering hope that, just maybe, their paths would cross again.

The uncertainty weighed on her and she couldn't help but replay their conversation in her mind, searching for any signs that she might have misunderstood. Did he feel the same way, or was she just reading too much into it?

Each day she checked her phone, hoping for a message or a call, but the screen remained disappointingly blank. Molly questioned herself, wondering if she had misjudged Spencer's interest or if he was simply too preoccupied with work.

In the midst of her internal turmoil, Molly couldn't deny the impact Spencer had made on her. She found herself yearning for a chance to know him better, to explore the possibility of something more. However, the silence from Spencer's end left her feeling a bit disheartened.

She found herself caught in a mental tug-of-war, debating whether she should take the initiative and call Spencer or continue to wait for him to make the first move. Part of her yearned to hear his voice, to bridge the gap of uncertainty that lingered between them. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing that making the first move might come across as too forward or desperate.

As she weighed the options, Molly considered the possibility that Spencer, with his reserved nature, might be navigating similar internal conflicts. The thought crossed her mind that Spencer, despite his intelligence, might have his own set of insecurities.

She couldn't meet with JJ this week due to Henry falling ill, leading to the cancellation of their piano lessons. It felt inappropriate to reach out to either her or Will to inquire about Spencer. They've only just met.

Molly took a deep breath, realizing that waiting for Spencer might be keeping her from new possibilities. Determined to move forward, she decided to answer the message she received on the dating app the previous night. Some guy named Rick, had asked her out to dinner tonight.

With newfound resolve, Molly responded positively, agreeing to the dinner invitation. She acknowledged that spending the weekend alone wasn't the solution, and it was time to embrace the opportunity to meet someone new. As she confirmed her plans for the evening, a sense of empowerment and excitement filled her.

.......................

As they stepped out of the restaurant into the cool night air, Rick's grin widened, and he casually suggested, "Hey, Molly, how about we continue the night at my place?"

Molly, taken aback by the unexpected proposition, hesitated for a moment before responding, "Oh, um, thanks for the offer, Rick, but I prefer taking things a bit slower. We just met, you know?"

Rick's face tightened with an edge of frustration, and he chuckled dismissively. "Come on, Molly, we're both adults here. No harm in having some fun. What's the big deal?"

Molly, maintaining her composure, replied firmly, "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not comfortable with that. I'd rather get to know someone better before going to that kind of place."

Rick's frustration transformed into a more overt anger, his brows furrowing as he retorted, "Well, that's just typical! You women are always so damn complicated! Can't even have a good time without all these rules!"

As Rick left in a huff, Molly couldn't help but feel a mix of disappointment and frustration. It was clear that all he had in mind was a superficial connection, and she wanted so much more than that. Realizing that Rick had shown little interest in getting to know her just to get her into his bed broke her heart a little.

As Molly turned, a wave of frustration and hurt washed over her. The tears flowed freely as she made her way back to her apartment, the sobs escaping her throat echoing the ache in her chest. The dream of a genuine connection seemed to shatter in the face of Rick's dismissive attitude, leaving her feeling not just upset but emotionally wounded.

Each step towards her apartment felt heavier, carrying the weight of dashed expectations and the sting of rejection. The quiet weeping turned into a soft, heart-wrenching lament.

In the solitude of her apartment, Molly sank into a moment of vulnerability on her couch. The pain lingered and in the midst of her tears, her thoughts inevitably turned to Spencer once again. 

As Molly's thoughts swirled around their chance meeting and the desire for a more, her phone unexpectedly rang. The sudden interruption startled her, and she hastily wiped away the remaining tears before answering. To her surprise and relief, Spencer's name flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" Molly answered, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and anticipation.

"Hey, Molly," Spencer's gentle voice came through the line. "I wanted to apologize for not calling sooner. It wasn't okay. The case we were on took longer than expected. I'm really sorry I didn't call. I meant to, I truly did. Things got a bit hectic..."

Molly's heart skipped a beat, a mixture of emotions flooding her. "It's okay, Spencer. I understand."

Spencer continued, "I was wondering if you're free tomorrow? I'd really like to make it up to you. How about that coffee we talked about?"

Molly's lips curled into a tentative smile. The unexpected call seemed to wash away the lingering disappointment, replaced by a renewed sense of hope. "I'd like that! Coffee sounds great. I don't drink it though. I'll have tea!"

Molly couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and excitement. The decision to wait or make the first move and some guy named Rick, became irrelevant in that moment, replaced by the anticipation of what could unfold between her and Spencer.

[tadpolebrains]

Hii can I ask for an headcanon for BG3? There are spoilers for Act 3 so if you haven't finished it don't read!

I was thinking of Tav finally freeing Lae'Zel from Orin and becoming an absolute emotional wreck because they feel guilty for leaving her there that long because of other quests. You can also do it for other characters getting kidnapped and freed (especially Karlach pls). If it's too complicated for an HC I understand! Also I love your blog, I'm browsing through it right now <3

You betcha my dude >:3

Cut just for the people who haven’t gotten to act three. Spoilers ahead! ^^

I do know that only certain party members can be taken by Orin in game… but we’re gonna ignore that shhhhhh. I will start with the ones who can be taken can be taken canonically though (Orin ended up taking Yenna for me, so I don’t know much about how the companions actually react to being kidnapped ddhdh- I shall try my best though)

Post-Orin Kidnapping

Lae’zel. She tries to be indifferent about it. You made the difficult choice to prioritize certain quests first, and she does nod and say she respects that. It was a logical choice. She’ll scoff slightly when you try to apologize at first, acting like it doesn’t matter, but she was a little shaken by the whole thing, even if she won’t admit it, and your apologies do help, as much as she deflects them. A bit of suffering makes her stronger, right? When you tell her about the quests you completed first, she’ll make little comments about how she ‘would have done it this way to be more efficient’ or other such things that not so subtly state how she would have been beneficial to have around during those times. One of those comments eventually makes you snap, and you just start crying and apologizing relentlessly and she just… freezes. Because yes, she was trying to make a point, but she didn’t mean to draw that kind of reaction out of you. Didn’t mean for tears. And though her instinct is to scold or mock a sign of weakness, she pushes it down, frowning slightly. You get a slightly awkward hand on your shoulder. “Chk… pull yourself together. I have seen you worry less over worse. I am strong, still. I will fight you to prove it if you must see it for yourself.” That gets a laugh out of you. Give it a bit of time, and it’ll be alright.

Gale is more preoccupied with making sure you’re alright. When you start trying to apologize, he lets you get it out, but assures you it isn’t entirely necessary. He’s fine, he assures you. His self-esteem isn’t great, though, so he takes that delay in you getting to him a little too close to heart, even if he logically knows he shouldn’t. Immediately, his focus is on other things. Asking how you all fared without his cooking, what you’ve managed to do in his absence, etc. He keeps himself occupied constantly, or, well, tries to. Keeping his mind on other things can distract him from thinking about it all. Being useful, because, well… if he’s useful, surely that means he was worth saving. He feels the need to prove it was worth “going out of your way” to get him back. It’s only when he crashes either from exhaustion or from you confronting him about it that he finally admits it might have been harder on him than he’d let on. Some words of reassurance and a good, long hug can help to clear the air. And if that hug turns into him pretty much falling asleep in your arms from exhaustion… well, he needs the rest.

Halsin doesn’t seem all that bothered, at least, in comparison to the others. When you apologize, he thanks you, and accepts it. If you think you require his forgiveness, he will not deny it to you, even if ye finds it unnecessary. He’s gone through being captured before, and yeah, it sucks, but he had faith you’d show. Dealing with the Shadow-Curse was harder on him than this; at least he doesn’t have years upon years of trauma related to Orin. His behavior shifts into making sure you know that he is his real self periodically throughout your encounters. He’ll tell you little things that he doesn’t tell most people, ‘just in case’ you need to interrogate him later, even with Orin out of the way. For your own reassurance, and also for his, so he knows you’ll he able to spot an imposter faster if there ever is another one. If the scene plays out where “he” (Orin) hurts Scratch, he feels guilt, even if it wasn’t his fault. He stays away from Scratch for a while, not wanting to make the poor dog uncomfortable, and makes sure to check in with anyone who’d witnessed it to ask if he needs to keep his distance from them for a bit as well.

((I know Minthara is also able to be kidnapped in-game, but sadly in my initial playthrough I wasn’t aware she could be recruited alongside Halsin and killed her in act 1. I am recruiting her for my second playthrough, but for now I don’t know enough about her rip.))

And onto the ones that can’t be nabbed in-game:

Karlach, without hesitation, hugs you the moment she is freed and won’t let go for a while. If you’ll let her, she’ll even carry you back to camp just to keep you close. She hated every single second of that, and will demand cuddling in consolation. She doesn’t blame you, though, and makes sure you’re aware of that when you try to apologize for how long it took. For the days following the rescue, she is pretty clingy with you, more-so than usual. She’s reluctant to be left behind in camp if you ask her to stay put, even if she will relent if that’s really what you think is best. She does not let herself be alone, though. If you’re not there, she finds someone else to be with. She’ll even chill with Withers if that’s who’s around at the time. She just needs someone there while her nerves slowly die down over the next couple days.

Astarion… doesn’t do great. Because when Orin takes him at first, he immediately assumes it’s Cazador’s doing, and is petrified. There had already been the first kidnapping attempt, and now this?! When you finally show up, he barely even speaks to you. Apologizing for getting caught up with other things gets you a mask of a smile and a ‘it’s fine, darling.’ He’s definitely dissociating a bit, and you can tell. Even if he’s acting off, though, he will not leave your side. Jumps slightly if he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. Generally is on edge. Even if you talk with him, try to console him, he won’t truly relax after it all until Cazador is taken down. When you two are alone, though, he will accept your consoling words and, though he acts begrudging, a hug. Being patient enough may get him to admit that he ‘wasn’t sure you’d actually show up, but he’s glad you did.’ The words are said with a chuckle, played off as less serious than they are, but you know they’re true.

Shadowheart isn’t as phased. Even as a Selunite, she’s still got an odd relationship with pain and such from her Shar worship, and genuinely doesn’t feel too much worse for wear. It happened, and she doesn’t really want to dwell on it. Your apologizing might make her feel a little awkward, just because she isn’t entirely sure what to say, but she just thanks you for your concern. She finds it sweet that you feel the need to check up on her and apologize like that, but really, she’s alright. But, y’know. If you really have to dote on her a bit and pay her some extra attention, then who is she to complain?

Wyll, similar to Gale, also immediately makes sure you’re alright. He doesn’t try to hide that the experience has shaken him a bit, but assures you that it will only be a matter of time before he’s back at his best. He doesn’t want to be dishonest with you, and answers honestly if you ask how he’s doing. He insists you don’t need to apologize whenever you try to, but if you wear him down enough he’ll accept it for your sake. In the days after, you may catch him spacing out a bit, or wearing a smile that looks a little too forced, but it’s mostly for his own sake. If he can convince himself he’s alright, then he has to be, right? He’d spend a bit more time by himself, not wanting to sour anyone else’s mood. He appreciates it if you spend some time just sitting there with him, silent company, even after he assures you it isn’t necessary. He doesn’t want to waste your time, but won’t protest too much. He wants the company. Doing some dancing with him can serve as a good distraction, and pick up the mood a bit.

[docholligay]

Transit

“Oh, I mean, last time,” I say with a chuckle of hubris, spitting in the eye of God, “we’d come up around the Strawberry Fest*, and the train was so packed in--you know, it was, everyone was leaving at the same time, so we had to stand--” 

“I think we lost each other.” Bel adds.

“Yeah, I was telling Jill, ‘fuck it, we’ll find them in Ely, it’s not very big.’” I have a broad smile, a fool, an idiot, and I shake my head at my mom, “But it’s not like that, the winter fair.” 

And you what? I was telling the truth. It was not the same as the Strawberry Fair, and the issues we encountered were not the same as the ones from Strawberry Fair, but my grand silliness was in assuming there would be no problem at all. 

Come with me, on a tale of not exactly woe, but perhaps a very exciting 20 minutes in some other nation’s history as we attempted to get back to Ely. 

Background information:

It is COLD. This is coming from me, Lord High Chancellor of “y’all don’t know from cold, I am so very manly tee hee” it was fucking cold, alright? In the realm of 30F/-1C, which, back home, is chilly I’ll say, but not such a huge deal as to attract notice. But. This country is wet**. This country is so fucking wet. This country is a kitchen sponge continually being misted with ice cold water. Stepping outside is the equivalent of being smacked in the face with a damp wool sweater. It takes my hair, my fine, short hair, an hour to dry. And so, we are walking through clouds on the verge of freezing. 

Taking into account the above, and also the fact that I am both proud and an idiot, my feet are completely numb. I’m not saying much, but I’m having trouble keeping my feet under me. Doc, what does this have to do with being proud and an idiot? I chose the cute shoes that day, friends, with naught but a wool sock and a thin leather sole between me and the ground. It was, how do you say, unwise. 

If we miss this train (Read: cluster of trains) we will be trapped in Cambridge for the better part of an hour or so. 

To be perfectly arrogant, in addition to being proud and an idiot, I can bear up under quite a bit, and simply set feeling anything to the side in pursuit of an experience. I forget that other people are not necessarily built that way, and my mother is very tired and a bit dead on her feet. 

In conclusion, we have to get this train back to Ely. 

Dani (cleverly (?--we report you decide)) spots a train going to Birmingham by way of Ely, which’ll take off sooner than the one we were originally planning on taking. Excellent! Brilliant, as they say, even. It also gave me an idea of what a Cross Country train, which I will later be taking to Birmingham, looks like. It seems fine, which is broadly how I would describe most of the trains in the UK that are not EMR, where hope goes to die. We sit, chatting. It’s lovely. We laugh about not wanting to go to Birmingham. What a delightful time. 

And then, that angel’s trumpet of coming destruction: The vioce of a calm British man on a trainline. “This train will be delayed as the driver is stuck in Cambridge traffic.” What can I do but start laughing? As I understand it, the Mill Road Winter Fair is one of two great calamities that befall Cambridge a year, and it dovetails with interview week***. Apparently, this is not largely known to people who presumably should know better, and so here we are, sitting on a train to Birmingham, discussing our options about switching to another, better, perhaps faster train. 

I look at Dani and Bel with the same sort of look, I imagine, that people give me when we’re in the woods and I ask if they want to go along the ridge or if they’d rather drop down into the valley. I understand the words they are saying, but I do not understand the implicatons of them. We’re going to stay on, declares Dani, with a sense of assuredness that comes when you have a train in the hand versus two in the bush, and we all agree that this seems as good an idea as any. 

For a few minutes, at least. 

And then, the voice of the announcing angel comes again, and tells us that anyone going to Ely should really consider getting off the train, as they aren’t sure when the driver will be there and the train the next platform over is terminating at Ely. Oh, by the by, that train leaves in three minutes. 

A wave of humanity rises as if in a Japanese woodcut, all moving in a herd toward the platform across the station. Now, for my American and Canadian readers, at the very least, let me explain how a smaller train station in the UK looks. They aren’t big, particularly, but because of how trains work, to get to another platform, you have to go over or under, generally over, with a set of stairs****. An entire crowd of people is running to the stairs, running up and over the platform in a desperate bid to not be stranded in Cambridge. As we run up the stairs, a voice assures and disappoints, that the train to Ely will be delayed, and, in my extreme foolishness and naive trust of the “National” Rail “””System”””, I think, “Lovely! They’re holding the train for us!” 

OH DOC DOC. 

We make it to the other platform, and the train, my friends, my companions, is not even there. Leaving in three minutes, my god. So now we watch. The train to Birmingham is helpfully being delayed minute by minute, as the second it turns 16:13, the train will be leaving at 16:13, until, of course, it is 16:14, and then the train will be leaving at that time. Our train to Ely, however, exists in that mysterious liminal space of merely ~delayed~, which keeps things fresh and exciting. 

Which will take off first? We eye the Birmingham train across the distance, nearly daring it to leave before thhe train to Ely even arrives, looking at each other on the platform, eyes dashing about like frightened animals. From where will relief come? Is there any escape from Cambridge? 

There are many opportunities to place bets here, as suddenly, a third horse enters the race! 

A train to Norwich, via Ely, pulls into the station next tot he train to Birmingham. Apparently Ely is a good place to go through, if not rest at. We turn to each other. I have not the knowledge to divine the future, and turn thus to my oracles of public transportation, they who dwell in the Fens and hear the whispers of the eels, who follow the rivers of iron on boats run by the capricious gods of Great Northern and CrossCountry. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have any clue what to do either. The delight of the British train system is that it is happy to supplly you with the ability to make many wrong choices. We debate. We watch. 

We crawl BACK across the stairs and platform, and get on the train to Norwich. 

As we sit, the train to Birmingham pulls away. 

*This is the wrong name for it, but it’s also what I said, so, [sic]

**I keep saying this, and Dani keeps saying, “Is it? I think it’s been a bit dry.” and I am mere moments from popping her in the face, wherein water will gush from her like a sodden foam ball. 

***This is, apparently, the one week where they do every single interview for The Smart Youths to see if they’re getting into Cambridge. What a low stress environment. Fantastic idea. 

****I was absolutely unaware of this when I previously went to the UK, and sent an email to Dani trying to ask about how difficult it was to change trains, but my question about what the fuck a train station even looks like was so basic that it took two or three emails before she even understood what I was asking. So I am here for you, my fellow Americans.