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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 3 months

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Badge Bunny Part IV

Masterlist here!

Summary: When it all becomes too much, you're ready to leave Lehigh behind but Gator has other plans in mind.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Minimal use of Y/N. ANGST!!! Gun use mentioned for protection. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Tad bit of size kink. Creampie.

Word Count: 6.4K

You watched him leave, with tears clouding your vision as they began to roll hot down your cheeks. It felt like a stone sat deep within the pit of your stomach.

It was for the best. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself, while your head and heart are at odds with each other.

He was always stuck in limbo. Never fully present with you even when he was home. At Roy's beck and call any and all hours of the day. It made your heart ache knowing he would never be truly yours.

It surprised you when he hadn't fought back, accepting the finality of it without a single protest.

He'd left that morning and seemingly hadn't looked back.

After spending most of the day in bed in and out of consciousness, with your body thoroughly spent of its tears you trudged your way into the kitchen. Your eyes scanning the living room right away, as if they were drawn there.

He'd cleaned up while you had been sleeping that morning, even going as far as cutting out the carpeting that held those wine-colored stains. A fresh wave began to sting and build at your lash line at the thought of him trying to clear any reminders, as if it would somehow erase what happened all together.

It would be the first night of many that the loneliness was almost unbearable. The house was far too quiet.

Every little sound puts you on edge. He'd left his spare gun, so you moved it to your bedside. It had even crossed your mind to go to the pound and pick up a big dog for security mostly, but you'd also have someone in the house.

Nights were when the walls started to press in around you. Anxiety at its highest. Reliving all those moments over and over again. It was enough to drive someone mad.

You didn't want to go back to work, Henry understood and told you to take all the time you needed. Your job would still be there when you were ready. You also knew you couldn't stay unemployed for long.

Maggie came over a couple of times to check on you. Her hard exterior melted at the first sight of your swollen eyes and bruises barely beginning to heal, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You were waiting for that “I told you so” that never came. She didn't mention Gator, which was a first, always having something to say about him or his father. You were grateful for the mindless chatter and town gossip instead.

She'd brought you enough groceries that you didn't need to leave the house for a few days, but you were growing stir crazy.

When you'd finally made the decision to get out it was a breath of fresh air. The house was beginning to feel stuffy and small as you got that caged in feeling thrumming through your veins.

The next day you went back to work, opting for the morning shifts. It was shit pay, but it was better than coming in at night. Still worrying that someone could be lurking in the dark. Ready to finish what they'd started.

Gator finally came and got the majority of his things making sure to avoid you, doing it while you were away. You weren't sure how he knew you wouldn't be home. He hadn't reached out, but you knew he had ways of finding everything out in this town.

Your heart ached when you saw the now bare side of his closet. Drawers emptied of their contents. The finality of it hitting you with a magnitude you weren't expecting. You willed yourself not to start crying again.

That very moment you decided you were leaving Lehigh.

It's been two weeks since you last saw Gator Tillman.

You'd finally began to work nights, keeping that gun in your purse for added peace of mind. Pulling doubles as much as possible, saving every penny you can scrounge up. It still doesn't seem to be adding up as quickly as you would like.

It's been a slow morning, when you notice Andy walking through the door, not missing the way he tried to avoid looking directly at you when he sits himself at his usual booth.

You sighed to yourself as you headed over, grabbing him a drink before doing so.

“Hey Andy,” you tried to sound chipper, but you weren't even fooling yourself. Sitting his drink and a menu down in front of him.

“Hey Y/N. How ya’ been?” He asked, with a kind smile.

“Uh, I guess about as good as one could… after… all that.” Waving dismissively.

“I'm sorry. That was a dumb question. I…”

“No, Andy. It's ok.” Placing your hand to his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

No one ever asked about it. You wished someone would say something to get it out of the way, but they never did. Instead, looking at you like a fragile piece of glass.

“You wanna look over the menu or you know what you want?”

He ordered his usual. You knew he wouldn't have come here by himself. He never came in here before you and Gator got together. Gator dragging him here at least once a week while on shift just to see you for lunch.

You made more menial small talk, checking on him here and there.

Before he left you made sure to catch him.

“You can tell Gator I'm fine. And if he's so worried about me he can come talk to me himself.”

He didn't try to deny it, simply nodding his head smirking as he went.

“See ya later, Y/N. Stay safe.”

Being completely honest with yourself, you hadn't slept well since that night. A glass of wine quickly turned into a bottle before bed to fall asleep. It didn't help the bags under your eyes, but it took your mind off the pain for a little while. Relaxing you enough to coax your mind into a few hours of rest.

You'd been stocking up at the grocery store each time you went and today would be no different. You made the trek, leaving work at a normal time.

Henry could see your exhaustion and told you to take the night off. Well, more like ordering you to.

You hadn't realized when you left the house, you'd grabbed one of Gator's old hoodies instead of your own, but it would have to do for a quick trip.

Opting for a basket instead of a cart would make it a quick in and out. You browsed the frozen food section picking out a couple of things then heading straight for the wine aisle grabbing a couple of bottles of rosé.

You turned the corner, bumping full force into someone.

“Fuck,” you hissed out steading yourself against a broad chest, looking straight up into hazel eyes that you knew all too well.

“Gator, what the fuck?” He had a hold on your basket, making sure it hadn't fallen from your grasp.

“Sorry Bun… Y/N.” He blurted out, while his eyes roamed over you. He noticed his hoodie immediately, making a small smile creep up on him that was quickly wiped away by your disheveled appearance.

Bags are starting to form under your eyes. The bruise on your cheek is a distant memory now. The cut above your lip is nearly healed but will leave a scar. A small, taunting reminder that this is all his fault.

He'd had a couple of buddies watch you from time to time. His way of trying to keep you safe. Andy had relayed your message earlier today. You were smart he knew you'd see right through him when he stopped by.

He finally realizes the death grip he still had on your basket when you looked up at him with your signature, “what the fuck are you doing?” expression.

He let go and took a step back. Giving you the out he knows you'll take.

“I'm actually glad I ran into you.” You spoke, not meeting his direct gaze, looking back down to the basket not containing much of anything but the alcohol you planned to down for the evening.

“You are?” He perked up at that, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Uh, yeah.” Willing yourself to meet his eyes. “You need to tell your goons to back off. I'm fine. I don't mind Andy so much, but I don't need whatever you're trying to do.”

You weren't fine. You both knew it.

He scoffs. “I… what're you talking about?”

“Come on Tillman.” Titling your head up at him, leveling him with a sharp stare. “That savior complex you've got for me. Plus, you're a terrible liar. It's written all over your face.”

He snapped his mouth shut, gaze falling away from you, and finally noticing the wine. He didn't say anything, it would only make it worse, but you didn't drink. Not like that. And from what he's heard from one of his friends you came by the store daily for it.

“I just worry about you.” He said it so low; you almost missed it.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” He asked, but when you stayed silent it told him all he needed to know.

“I've got to go. Just… just back off. Please.” You quickly shuffled toward the front, trying not to watch the crestfallen look on his face. You glanced back once you made it to the register, but he was already gone.

As the days went on, you realize that even the doubles weren't getting you enough to move from Lehigh as quickly as you wanted.

An idea struck a couple of days prior, something Maggie had mentioned when you first got into town. The prospect became more and more alluring with each passing day.

You were stuck and it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

Henry was sad to see you go but he understood. Everyone understood. He was surprised you'd stayed around this long with everything that went down.

“I'm sorry, Henry. I just need to get out of here. It pays the bills but not enough to get me out of town.” Laying it all out on the line, giving him your notice.

“Hey kid, don't be sorry. It's ok.” He hugged you. You'd come to see Henry as a fatherly figure. He often rolled his eyes at your antics but always had a listening ear when you needed it.

“Just take care of yourself.” He added.

“Of course! I've made it this far on my own.” You grinned, leaving behind your apron.

You were headed across town to see a man about a different kind of job.

Gator stomped through the door of the Lucky Lizard a couple of days later, a man on a mission.

Henry spotted him as soon as he came barreling in, sighing to himself.

“Where is she?” Asking in a huff.

“Gator, nice to see you too.”

“Don't fuck with me right now. I know she quit her job two days ago. Where is she?” He fixed him with a pointed glare.

“Why don't you ask her yourself?” He turned away from him, grabbing a fresh beer for someone at the end of the bar.

“Because she doesn't want to talk to me. But I need to know she's safe. At least give me that. I know she talks to you.”

“Uh… that's a kicker now. Safe? I'm not so sure but I know she doesn't need you causing an uproar.” He was hesitant, mulling it over. Watching the younger man's expression turn a little more rigid. He was already mad; this would probably send him over the edge.

“Gator, now don't be a dumbass about this, but I know she went for a chat with Jeremy Nash.”

He felt like someone poured ice water over him. Anything but that.

“Fuck.” He hissed. Henry called after him, but it was too late. He was already out the door.

You weren't new to this kind of job, moonlighting as a cocktail waitress a few years ago, but you'd never taken the plunge to actually be an entertainer.

You'd gotten hired on the spot by Jeremy to start the weekend shift, luckily giving you a couple of days to prepare.

You arrived early. He showed you the grand tour giving you a locker and a vanity to get ready at.

The other girls looked at you with disdain and jealousy as soon as you walked in. Seeing you as nothing more than fresh meat and competition to take their money.

They chatted amongst themselves, not so much as a word toward you as they quickly got dressed and left you alone in the dressing room.

“Nice welcome,” muttering to yourself as you continued getting things out of your bag to get ready.

As you were finishing your eye liner, Jeremy came bustling into the room.

“Looking good! Ready to make some dough? You're up next.” He stated enthusiastically, eyes trailing your exposed skin, as if he didn't see tits and ass every day. He was a little sleazy but nice enough.

You were about to go on stage at The Tender Trap.

The only strip joint within 100 miles and it just so happened to be close to Lehigh.

“Uh, sure.” You put on your best fake smile and stood.

“Wow, you look great. What's the stage name again?”

“Ugh, Bunny.” Holding up those bunny ears you'd had stored away in the closet back at home for emphasis. Going with all black, fishnets with thigh high boots, you'd only have white ears. Your body suit covering you until it would be time to remove it. Nothing underneath, leaving those fishnets, making you feel a little less exposed.

He grinned, nodding his head “it fits.”

It felt a little wrong to use the name. But you had the outfit right down to the ears and tail, might as well use it to your advantage. Guys go crazy for that stupid Playboy bunny persona.

He led you to the backstage, curtains drawn as another girl was finishing up.

The bass of the music thumping through you. Doing absolutely nothing to quell the jitters you had.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a special newcomer. Everyone give it up for Bunny!” The DJ came over the loudspeaker as Wicked Games by the Weeknd started to play. It was your cue.

Your hand slightly trembled as you pulled the curtain back. Stepping out into the small spotlight, temporarily blurring your vision.

You smiled at a couple of men to your right as you took a few more steps to the center, hips swaying with the song.

There were some whistles and shouts that spurred your confidence. You continued to look around the stage as you slowly walked forward.

Your smile dropped when you locked eyes with a familiar figure. He stuck out like a sore thumb at the end of the stage, as he loomed over the other men.

His arms were crossed over his chest, staring you down, feeling the heat of his gaze from across the room. You froze for a moment before regaining your composure.

He tilted his head as if daring you to continue, eyes dark and zeroed in on you.

You tilted your head toward him and placed your hand around the pole to go ahead with your routine. His presence be damned.

It was then he jumped the edge of the tip rail, much to the grumbles and protests of the other men surrounding you, shedding his jacket as he stalked over.

“What the fuck, Gator?” You yelled, as he held the jacket up around you, pushing you back toward the curtain.

“I don't fuckin' think so Bunny. Let's go.”

With your heels you were nearly nose to nose with him, standing firm, you just stared him down.

“No.” You spat.

“Hey!” Both of your heads shot toward a very angry Jeremy Nash storming your way.

“Get the fuck off my stage! You entitled fuckin’ prick. Your father doesn't own this place Tillman.”

Gator rolled his eyes then narrowed his gaze back to you.

“Gator, just get the fuck down!” You yelled, pushing his chest but he hardly budged.

Jeremy reached the edge of the stage, pushing himself up and over, grabbing Gator’s arm momentarily knocking him off balance.

It all happened so fast. Once Jeremy grabbed him, he'd turned quickly, his fist meeting the other man's nose with an audible crunch that could be heard above the music.

He grabbed his face with a groan and started backing away immediately, yelling for you both to get the fuck out as blood poured down his mouth.

Without a second thought Gator turned back toward you, bending down, throwing an arm around your waist, and in one fluid motion hoisted you up over his shoulder.

“Gator Tillman! Put the me the fuck down right now!” He ignored your protests, as you kicked your feet and pawed at his back.

“Quit it, Bunny. No girl of mine is working at a place like this.” He placed you back on the ground once you'd reached the dressing room.

The other girls gawked and cursed at the both of you before practically running over each other to get out the door.

When he rose up, you reared back and smacked him across the cheek.

"In case you forgot, I'm not your fucking girl." You hissed.

He wasn't shocked but he slowly released a breath through his nose before speaking.

“Get your shit. You can scream, yell and slap me all you want in the fuckin' truck but your comin’ with me.”

There was no point in arguing, you knew as much but at least you could let him know how you felt about it.

You gathered your belongings, tossing his jacket back at his chest and pulling a hoodie over yourself. Moving to the back door without saying a word, you let yourself out into the cool night.

You spotted his truck and got in, slamming the door making him wince.

He hauled himself into the driver's seat and started it, easing out of the parking space.

“You fucking humiliated me in there.”

“You’ll live.” He sighed. “As if you weren't about to humiliate yourself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? At least it's honest work, unlike what you and your goddamn daddy get up to. And don't play dumb Tillman, I don't know everything, but I know enough.”

You crossed your arms and stared out the window as he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. You expected him to snap back but he didn't say anything which only infuriated you further.

He wasn't the strong silent type; you can tell he was holding back. He'd throw his own tantrums, ending with you two clashing because you were so much alike.

“Goddamnit Gator you can't do this to me. We aren't together. You can't barge back into my life when you think I need saving. It doesn't fucking work like that!”

He slammed on the brakes, making you jolt forward and quickly pulled off to the side of the road throwing it in park.

“I can and I will! Especially when you end up in some shit hole like that! What the fuck were you thinking?” Sounding more disappointed than angry.

"I was thinking I can get enough money to finally leave this fucking hell on earth you call home behind because I don't want to be here anymore! That's what I was thinking. Anywhere is better than here. I won't have to see you, or your fucking bat shit crazy dad anymore.”

"Bunny," he tries.

"No, stop Gator. I'm not… you don't get to call me that anymore. Just drive me home. I'm done.”

He stares at your profile for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh, pulling back out into the highway. Neither of you bother speaking for a while until his calm voice cuts through the silence.

“You should leave, you know. Get out of Lehigh, hell out of the state. Get as far away from here while you still can.”

You were stunned. You'd expected him to beg and plead for you to stay, not this. Something was going on with him. You watched him concentrating on driving, but he was chewing his bottom lip.

“Is… is that what you want?” He didn't immediately answer, instead he pulled back off the road to give you his full attention, turning to face you in his seat.

“Of course that's not what I want, but if it means you'll be safe from… from all of this shit, then yes. Leave for your own good.” His eyes never left yours. You could see he was fighting his own emotions. “I love you, Bunny. I'll always fuckin’ love you until the day I die. It's just not safe.”

You could tell something was there. He wanted to tell you more.

“You… you could just come with me?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, tears forming at your lash line threatening to spill. “Please? We could leave tonight. Somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere no one would find us.”

“Baby, I… I can't. I…” he reached out to touch you, but you quickly flinched out of his reach.

“No. This is exactly why we broke up. What the fuck was I thinking?” You laughed out, salty tears now flowing freely dripping from your chin.

He'd had enough of seeing you cry. He didn't know what else to do.

“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was stern, pulling you from your current spiraling thoughts, as he placed his hands on your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears as you nuzzled into the tender touch.

“Fuck it,” he hissed. Quickly surging forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You pulled back, your hand meeting his cheek harshly. Slapping him before you realized what you'd done.

He nodded, pulling his lip between his teeth before releasing a harsh breath.

“I'm sorry… I…” you began, grabbing his collar, pulling him back and pressing your lips back to his, pushing him further back into his seat, swinging your leg around so you could straddle him.

It was messy, full of want. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at one another.

“It's okay baby, just… just take it out on me.” He mumbled, between kisses.

His hands found your hips, fingertips catching the holes of your fishnets. His touch setting you on fire as he pushed you down onto the tent already forming in his pants. Guiding you to grind against him, as you both moaned out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” You rasp out, as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, finding that juncture right below your ear, sucking a little harshly before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands trail up, pushing the hoodie up, until your barely clothed chest is on display. Squeezing your breasts in his large hands had his hips bucking up into yours. Already so eager to be inside of you.

“Fuck Bunny.” He leans back to take another look at you, slowly appraising your outfit. “I think ya’ need a reminder of who you belong to. Ya’ can't be showin’ everyone this. It's f’me. All f’me.”

“We weren't together.” Rolling your eyes, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

“Don't care.” He pulls the cups of your body suit down haphazardly, as you hear the fabric tear beneath his rough grip. “You're mine.”

“Gator!” Protesting that quickly turns into a moan, as soon as his plush lips meet your chest, sucking harshly at your nipple while he pinches and rolls the other between his finger and thumb.

He pulls off with a pop, smug grin plastered across his face.

“What was that sweet thing?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you hiss, with no real malice behind your words.

“Don't worry baby. We’ll get to that.”

You roll your eyes again, reaching a hand down to palm his very now prominent erection, eliciting a small moan cutting through his cocky demeanor.

“What's wrong baby?” Looking at him with your best doe eyed expression. “You miss me that bad?”

“You know I fuckin’ did.” He grits out, closing his eyes a moment before his hand wraps around the back of your neck pulling you down into another heated kiss.

Your hands quickly get to work as you ease back, reaching for and unlatching his belt buckle, undoing his pants and reaching in, finding him hot and heavy as you pull him free from his boxers.

Your thumb collects the precum from his slit, dragging it back down the length of his velvety shaft, as you swallow his stuttered moan.

You pull back slightly, his bottom lip between your plush ones, sucking before letting it pop back into place. You take the opportunity to catch him off guard, letting a string of saliva slip between your lips landing on the head of his cock.

“Fuck, Bunny.” He rasps out, hips pushing his dick further into your hand, searching for more friction.

He pulls at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it up and discarding it quickly onto the floor, as your hand comes back to languidly stroke him.

“Baby, please. If you keep that up, I'm gonna cum. I need you.” He didn't let you answer before his fingers slid the side of your body suit over. Bare save for your tights.

His fingertip grazes your clit as you throw your head back. He growled when the fabric caught, restricting his movements and further access.

You knew what he was thinking when he smirked up at you but before you could say anything to stop him, he pulled at the fabric, ripping it at the seam.

“Gator! What the fuck!” You hissed, before his fingers found your slit, sliding down catching at your entrance.

“I'll buy you a new pair. Promise.” You nodded, closing your eyes at the feeling, you ceased your ministrations gripping onto his shoulders for purchase. He circled your entrance, gathering slick before sliding back to your puffy clit. Relief flooded your veins as he began rubbing circles against you.

“More. I need more.” You moaned out, your cunt aching to be filled.

“Ride my fuckin’ cock then. S’all yours baby.” He said, gripping himself at the base and slapping it back against your bare pussy.

You raised up, allowing him to line himself up with your weeping entrance. As soon as his head breaches slightly, you grip his cheeks pulling his face up.

Maintaining eye contact as you slowly sank down around him. You relished in the stretch and slight sting, as he splits you open.

Pleasure begins taking over as your eyes start to roll back, releasing the grip on his face, bracing yourself against his chest. Your jaw went slack, as another wanton moan fell from your lips.

You slide down easily, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge as he fills you from beneath.

Your ass finally came to rest on his thighs, with his cock filling you to the brim.

He takes your palm and pushes it against your lower stomach.

“You feel me in there baby? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am?” You feel the bulge from where his cock is nestled within you, making your pussy flutter around him. “No one else could fuck ya’ that deep. Huh?”

“No… mmm… fuck, baby. God, I've missed you.” You breathed out, as you started to bounce, giving you both much needed relief.

“Yeah Bunny. That's it. Shit you feel so fuckin’ good. Missed this pussy. Missed you.” His eyes watch your tits bounce with the movement, as his hands grip your waist, helping raise your hips when you slow down just a bit.

Your bouncing begins to slow to a rhythmic grind, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit with each pass as heat starts to pool in your lower belly.

“Keep going baby, I know your fuckin' close. I'm gonna… fuck… gonna fill my fuckin' pussy up.” He grabs your cheeks roughly, as your eyes pop open to look at him.

“Tell me baby. Whose pussy is this? Huh? Who do you belong to?” He growled out, holding you still as he begins to piston his hips, fucking up into you.

“You… it's yours… Gator! Fuck!” You scream out.

“Yeah? All mine baby…mmm…play… play with your clit f’me. I want you to cum with me Bunny.”

He watches intently as you hand trails lower, finding your aching clit as he continues to fuck you from below.

“That's it baby. Feels good, huh?” Coming out a little mocking.

“Ugh… yes… feels so fuckin' good. I'm gonna cum all over your cock.” Your fingertip glides over your nub, feeling that electricity licking up your spine.

“Yeah baby? Gonna cum f’me?” Watching his length move in and out of you creating a creamy ring at the base, a mixture of both his and your arousal nearly sending him over the edge.

“Yesssss baby. Fuck…” His cock continues to nudge that sweet spot within you with every upward thrust.

You grasp his shoulders as your orgasm begins to wash over you, dragging you under with a blinding force.

“Baby, I'm cumming… I'm… ahhh…” It was all consuming, your pussy clenches around him like a vice, as those sparks began to flicker behind your eyelids. Your legs trembled as you writhed atop him.

“That's it, sweet thing. My tight, little…mmm… pussy is grippin’ me so fuckin' good.” He continues to push into you from below, as you try to come back to yourself.

“Cum… cum in me baby.” Your voice comes out shaky, as his cock twitches at your words.

“That what you want? Huh? I'm gonna fill this pussy full.” He grips your hips with a bruising force, pushing you down onto him, somehow impossibly deeper as he begins to cum.

You wrap your arms around his neck, as your hips grind down, working him through his own release. Your pussy milking him of every last drop. His face was turned upward, jaw going slack at the feeling as he breathes out a heavy moan. You loved the fact that only you ever got to see him like this.

“Fuck, Bunny. Baby… stop… I…” His fingers tighten on your hips, halting your movements.

You both still, foreheads resting together, chests heaving trying to catch your breath.

You looked into those lovesick eyes that you've missed so much. Unsure of what to say. Unsure of where this left the two of you.

You slowly lifted yourself from his lap, as he slid from you, you quickly moved off and tried to cover yourself. Your tights were in shambles and your top was ripped. You pulled the hoodie from the floor and pulled it back over you.

He sighs, watching you as he stuffs himself back into his pants.

“No matter what I fucking do I can't stop. I still fucking love you, Gator.” You were transfixed on the window, gaze on nothing in particular. He lets those words wash over him. He never wanted it to go this way.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For not being there. For not protecting you. I should have goddamn been there instead of working that night.” You look over at him with tears in your eyes at the pain and regret emanating from his words. You know he blames himself for what happened.

“I know you're sorry but…” you closed your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts into words. “It's not your fault, Gator.”

You reach your hand out, placing it on his and squeezing gently.

“Bunny, I can't go back to pretending we don't give a shit about each other. I'm moving back home.” He fixed you with a serious gaze. Giving you no room for discussion or arguing.

“And there are going to be some nights I get home late, maybe not until morning.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and gave a reassuring squeeze. “You have to trust me when I say I am doing this for both of us.”

“You aren't going to tell me what's going on?” Your voice trembled.

“Bunny, I can't. Just please, trust me. It's all going to be okay.” There was something in the way he said it so reassuringly and unwavering.

“I trust you, Gator. I love you.” The words came out as you reached over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him tightly to you.

“I love you, Bunny.”

In the following days, he moved his things back home as you both fell back into routine.

He rolled in some late nights, but you didn't ask any questions. He would come home and crawl into bed, pulling you into him, just like tonight.

You'd heard him enter, as a small smile crept at the corners of your lips when his arm wound around your waist with his warm chest to your back. His face buried into your neck, freshly washed hair tickling at your cheek as he sighed heavily.

“You awake baby?” He whispered, lips grazing your skin.

“Yeah, can't sleep until you get home.” He smiled at your admission but his heart aches all the same.

“I have to leave early in the morning.” He kisses your shoulder before continuing. “Whatever happens, I love you.”

You knew better than to ask what he meant. You just closed your eyes, praying to whoever might listen that whatever tomorrow would bring he'd come back home to you.

“I love you too.” You whispered through the dark, as the two of you held each other tight.

True to his word, his alarm blared before the sun rose, startling you both awake.

You'd followed him to the kitchen, watching his every move. Boxers slung low in his hips with his hair messy from sleep as your eyes drank in every detail.

“Baby, you didn't have to get up with me.” He chided, back of his knuckles running across your cheek as he sat beside you on the couch.

You curled into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, as he draped his over you resting his hand on your hip.

“Wanted to be with you.” Mumbling from your position, your head resting on his chest. He chuckled into his coffee before taking a sip.

“Whatever it is, you could just stay home. You don't have to go.” You muttered, grip on his waist tightening.

“I wish I could.” He kissed the top of your head, basking in warmth and love that he'd never had from anyone before you. Never thought he would be worthy of it, if he was being honest with himself. If he could bottle this moment and take it with him, he'd never ask for anything more.

He truly loves you more than anything in the world and reminds himself that this is for you. The both of you.

You stayed close to him until he practically had to push you off of him to head out, although reluctantly.

Once he laced his boots, he wrapped his arms around you one last time as you did the same, his hand rubbed your back with his lips pressed to your temple.

“I love you Bunny, but I've got to go baby.”

You hesitantly pull away, as he gathers his vest, slipping it over his shoulders.

“Be careful. I love you.” Saying it as he took his leave. You watched from the kitchen window as his truck left the driveway, taillights disappearing down the road.

You wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so you began getting ready for your shift at the bar. Henry was more than happy to give you your old job back after Gator made it impossible to go back to the Tender Trap with his rescue mission.

It was one of those days that he didn't text very much which usually meant it was a Roy’s business kind of day, always leaving you on edge.

Your shift was going smoothly, which seemed to improve your mood. You checked your phone at break to find a missed call from Gator.

He'd left a voicemail, that you immediately began to play.

“Hey Bunny, I know you're working but I wish I could have caught you. Baby, I know I've been quiet about everything and I'm sorry. Just know that whatever goes down today that I love you. I just wanted you to know that, and… (muffled background noise) shit … I've got to go.”

It caught you off guard. You sat there looking at the phone in your hand, as you swallowed a lump you hadn't realized was caught in your throat.

“What the fuck?” You breathed out.

You dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. Your heart rate kicked up with your mind visiting the worst possibilities.

You sent him a quick text hoping he would see it and put some of your worry at ease.

Baby, please call me back when you get this. I love you.

You shoved it back into your apron pocket making sure it was on vibrate making your way back into the bar.

You made your rounds checking tables, as you heard sirens approach, snapping your head up to watch five black unmarked SUVs pass by quickly headed East.

It caught the attention of the entire bar; everyone was silent for a beat as they watched.

“What the hell was that?” Henry, cutting through the quiet.

“I don't know, but it doesn't look good.” You watched them until they disappeared down the road and out of sight.

Andy burst through the door a few moments later, making a beeline straight for you. Looking a little worse for wear, color drained from his face aside from his flushed cheeks. When he'd gotten closer you noticed a cut on his left eyebrow.

“Y/N! Something's going down at the ranch. I think Roy's finally lost his goddamn mind. Feds are headed over there.” He rushed out, breathless as if he'd run all the way here.

So, this was it. His unwillingness to answer questions and sneaking around. It started to make sense. Something big went down and he's known about it, keeping you in the dark.

Gator, what the fuck have you done?

#gator tillman #gator smut #🐊#badge bunny series #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman x badge bunny #gator tillman angst #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x female reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #badge bunny au #gator x bunny

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staytinyville · 7 months

Text

Bang Chan

PLEASE REFER TO MASTERLIST TO GET FULL TAROT READING EXPERIENCE

↣ Summary: You find yourself struggling with coming up with the perfect song for a group. Your energy was being sucked away after losing all hope for creating the perfect piece. However, when you spent time with your old friend Bang Chan, it seems your inspiration was just misplaced.

↣ Characters/Pairing: Bang Chan x gn!Reader

↣ Genre: Fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: idol!au, producer!reader, you were a trainee alongside Bang Chan

↣ Word Count: 1.3K

↣ Warnings: none

↣ A/N: The first of many imagines to come! I love idol!aus honestly. There is a lot here in the entire event. I hope you guys love this just as much I do. I had such a good time writing it even if I was struggling to write some of them lol.

THE MAGICIAN

Manifestation, Resourcefulness, Power, Inspired Action

The Magician is the master of Manifestation! All the tools you need are available in order to reach your dreams. Your mental, emotional, physical and spiritual states are all aligned and ready to be used as a powerful key to opening the doors to all that you are waiting for.

Right now is the best time to move forward with ideas you might have come up with. However, be sure you take into account all that goes into having this idea come to fruition. You have to have a clear head over your plan and go along with it accordingly. Make sure you are motivated towards your goal on a deeper level. Think soul and spiritual connection!

While the time is now to move along with your plans, be sure you do not stray from it. This will need your time and effort to push forward. You can’t just think “I want this” and it’s the end. If you want something, you have to continuously strive for it.

I THE MAGICIAN

Your shoulders tensed up as you listened to the beat on replay for the nth time. You lost count over how many times you’ve listened to the same track in the hour alone. You began to get frustrated with the tune, taking off your headphones and tossing them onto your soundboard. Rubbing at your forehead to calm down the forming headache, you pushed yourself away from the desk before ultimately leaving the studio all together.

The JYP building was quiet as everyone had turned in for the day–a few artists still cooped up in their personal studios or working on certain things were milling about the hallways. You mindlessly walked around, trying to find something to keep you occupied for the moment. Enough to give you a break from the screeching sound that was your music.

There had been music coming from one of the dance studios, catching your attention. With the song that was playing, you figured it must have been one of the boys from Stray Kids. Softly opening the door so as to not startle the member, you allowed a sleepy smile to overtake your face as you saw Bang Chan watching himself in the mirror as he danced.

He didn’t see you right away, so you moved to the couch, making yourself comfortable as you watched him. Once the song finished, he spun around on his heels to face you, giving you a grin. When you were only able to respond back with a small smile, his expression quickly changed to worry.

“Everything okay?” He asked you, turning off the stereo before moving to take a seat next to you.

“Yeah.” You pulled your legs up, hugging your arms around them. “You know how things go.” You sighed, watching him lean his head back against the couch.

“Do you wanna take a break?” He asked you, head tilting to give you his full attention.

You sighed deeply, thinking about the track you have to get back to. You had wanted a small moment to yourself in order to get rid of the large headache you had. “I have to finish-”

“It's just for some food.” He quickly told you. “We don't even have to leave. We'll order in and eat here.” He explained

You looked around the dance studio, sighing as you thought about spending a bit of time with Bang Chan. It had been a while since you last got to hang out with him. He had gotten busy with the boys and things went spectacular for him. While you sometimes did work together on Stray Kids tracks, it wasn’t the same as just hanging out with friends.

“You sure?” You asked. “You're not busy?”

“Not at all. I was just going over something.” Bang Chan smiled brightly, making your cheeks heat up. “How about it?” He asked again.

His bright smile made you feel giddy. He was someone that made people happy with what he did and how he did it. He had the energy to make some smile even after a bad day.

“Sure.” You nodded your head.

An hour later, the song completely forgotten, the both of you had been enjoying some take-out and laughing about stories Bang Chan had about the boys. He had told you how messy each one was, not leaving himself out of the list as you forced him to place himself.

“I would think Hyunjin was the cleanest.” You laughed, covering your mouth.

“I mean compared to the others, sure.” Bang Chan giggled. “I can't make it a competition when we're all the same.”

In the last hour you couldn’t help but feel content with spending time with him. You had missed how much fun it was spending time with someone like him. You could remember all those times you spent creating new songs before he debuted. All those times you would watch him waste away trying to perfect a dance move.

But you also watched him create his own team of members that have hit the top charts. He built Stray kids up from the ground. He found the right people and tried his hardest to get to where he wanted. He was so much more than the leader of Stray Kids. He was the person who you aspire to be.

“You're a great leader, you know.” You told him. “An even greater artist.”

Bang Chan suddenly blushed, giggling as he looked away. “Ah, no. I don't think I'm that great.” He told you bashfully.

“I was pretty shocked to learn I got a job here as a producer.” You explained to him. “It was unexpected. An amazing thing—but unexpected.”

“I admire you.” You snapped your head up when he admitted that.

“You do? Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him oddly.

“You put passion into everything you do.” Bang Chan started, turning to face you fully as he put his legs up on the couch. “When you have something in mind, you won't hesitate to reach your goal. You make creating music look so easy sometimes.”

You knew there was a time when you were able to write songs left and right. You used to find joy in writing music. But as of recently, it seemed like you were having a burn-out. You couldn’t remember the last time you had spent more than an hour away from the studio–other than sleeping.

“Yeah, well, I'm sure struggling a lot right now.” You sighed deeply. “Could really use that passion right now.”

“Everyone has their days when things become a huge struggle. Sometimes it's hard for people to even wake up, but they still do.” Bang Chan told you softly. “Writing music can be hard sometimes. Just like an artist might have trouble creating a painting or a writer struggling to create a story. I've seen you have those days.”

Your eyebrows raised at the revelation. “You have?” You asked, turning to him.

“I always worry about you.” He smiled softly, blush returning to your face. “You were there when the others debuted and I was left. You helped me find my passion in writing good enough songs for the fans.”

Tears began to well in your eyes as you took in his words. Here you were, wanting to be like Bang Chan when he was thinking the same thing. You had started off as a trainee, but over time you learned you enjoy being in the studio much more than learning dances and taking vocal lessons.

It meant more to you than just creating a song for idols. Every time any of them would sing a song you created, you would cry tears of joy over all the hard work you put into your dreams. All the time and effort you would do was thanks to the people who supported you.

And no one was a bigger supporter than Bang Chan. The man you had grown up with. The one who you wrote love songs about when you were a teenager. He was more than just your best friend. He was your inspiration.

“You're an amazing idol, Chan.” You smiled brightly at him. “Better than most. And a lot of people look up to you for what you've done to help them.”

“You have been there with me since the beginning, and I owe you a lot. You mean so much to me. And you inspire me to be the person I want to be.” You quickly got up, cleaning your space before throwing away your trash.

“Where are you going?” He asked you as you seemed to head towards the door.

“I have a song to write.” You grinned. “I found my passion again.”

“That's great.” Bang Chan giggled. “I can't wait to hear it.”

Before you opened the door, you rushed back over to the couch, leaning over Bang Chan. “Thank you for being you, Bang Chan.” You told him quickly, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

The boy began to flush red, a large smile overtaking his lips. “No problem.”

Tags : @cultofdionysusnet , @sandsofire , @k-vanity

#cultofdionysusnet #k vanity #sandsofirenet #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids #bang chan skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios

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dirty-bear-rick-sanchez · 1 month

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Hi, sorry to ask but have you written any fanfics where Jerry is autistic? I've read your autistic!morty fic and thought that was excellent. I'm trying to find Jerry-centric fanfics where he isn't mischaracterized/demonized. (Way too many people write Jerry as transphobic which -_-ll no he isn't)

Hi, no need to apologise! I haven't written any autistic Jerry fics and I'm not sure if I know of any (if anyone else does, please leave recs on this post!). I do 100% view him as autistic though. Thank you!

Yeah honestly Jerry being portrayed as transphobic is something that bothers me as a trans guy? I headcanon him as supportive but clueless/cringe at times (he a little confused but he got the spirit).

I do have a trans Morty WIP with a scene between Morty and Jerry, although Morty is still very early on in figuring out that he might be a guy, and Jerry kind of knows something is up but assumes Morty is a lesbian rather than a trans guy and so kind of fumbles but ultimately is trying to be supportive/nice. Morty does worry about Jerry not loving him anymore if he's trans, although this is Morty's POV rather than being objective/a thing that actually happens.

I'll leave the scene below the cut in case anyone's interested. Warnings for mention of periods (and them being referred to in a gendered way), fear of transphobia from parents, accidental misgendering (and misgendering/deadnaming of Morty in the text since this is only the very start of Morty's gender questioning).

“Morti? Rick said you’re sick. Are you OK?” Jerry opens the door. Morti quickly shoves her phone under her pillow. Thankfully, her dad is as oblivious as ever as he walks over and rests a hand against her forehead.

“You don’t feel warm. Is it, uh, you know,” Jerry points down towards his own abdomen, “woman troubles?” he asks in an exaggerated stage whisper. Morti wants to die all over again. She presses her face into her pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart, i-it’s OK.” Morti feels Jerry rest a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

Morti takes a few deep breaths to calm herself and then sits up.

“N-no, Dad, I’m OK.”

“OK, honey.” Jerry wraps his arms around her and Morti can’t help but wonder if he would still hug her like this if he knew what she’d spent the past couple of hours reading about. She hugs him back tightly, suddenly unable to stop thinking that she might have to make the most of the affection while it lasts.

When Jerry pulls back, his face clouds with concern and Morti realises she’s once again been crying. She’s getting really sick of that.

“Morti, honey, what’s wrong?”

Morti feels the question writhing around in her gut until it chokes its way out of her mouth. “Dad… you’d love me no matter what, right?”

“Of course, sweetie. No matter what, you’ll always be my daughter.”

The words are meant to be a comfort, but all Morti can think about is the possibility that she’s not his daughter.

“Morti? Are you gay? It’s OK if you’re gay, you know.” As always, Jerry is well-intentioned but clueless. Truthfully, Morti’s not really put much thought into her own sexual orientation, and it’s not her main concern right now. She shakes her head, and Jerry looks doubtful but leaves it.

After a few minutes, Morti works up the courage to speak again. “Dad? Could-could you… tell me a story? Like when I was little?” she cringes as she says the words, knowing she’s far too old to be asking for something like that. To her relief, Jerry smiles.

“Sure thing, sweetie.”

He launches into an improvised story, very similar to the ones she remembers him coming up with when she was younger. She has a memory of Summer complaining Jerry’s stories were boring, always demanding more action. However, once Summer had aged out of wanting a bedtime story and left Morti as the sole listener, Jerry had settled comfortably back into his original stories, which Morti found calming and reassuring.

Her dad’s voice relaxes her and she rests her head against the pillow, feeling her eyelids begin to droop. Jerry’s hand rests on her hair and strokes it gently, just as he used to all those years ago. It’s enough to block out the negative thoughts for the time being, and Morti is so exhausted from the recent events that she soon drifts peacefully into sleep.

#rick and morty #rnm #morty smith #jerry smith #autistic jerry #autistic jerry smith #trans morty #trans morty smith #transphobia #i hope this is at least semi-coherent #the brain fog is bad rn 😅

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saints-who-never-existed · 4 months

Text

Rereading The Terror

Chapter Forty-Eight: Goodsir

And so on to the aftermath...

Seven hours pass when Little's lead-scouting party should've been back within four, so the remaining exhausted men launch the boats and follow them.

There's mention here of Des Voeux commanding the last boat in the procession, and of him being "third in command of our overall Expedition now behind Captain Crozier and Lieutenant Little". Not sure if that's an error on Simmons' part or an implication that poor Hodgson has been removed from the chain of command entirely and remains a Lieutenant in name only?

As they make their way along the lead, there's talk of what might've befallen Little's party ("There ain't no way that Lieutenant Edward Little got himself Lost" shot back Charles Best. "He may be Stuck, but not lost.") Soon, however, when they emerge into that huge open lake, all becomes clearer... "The water was Red here." :(((

Initially, Crozier and the other senior seamen commanding the boats try to calm the men, explaining that all the gore on the ice is simply the sign of seals hunted and killed by polar bears. It doesn't take long for them to realise that that's not the case though, as they spot the bow of Little's whaleboat floating vertically in the water, the rest smashed to pieces. The whaleboat is named The Lady J. Franklin...

They continue their passage cautiously across the crimson lake, taking in more grisly sights. First, they find Mr Reid's headless corpse floating in the water, his fingers half-nibbled away by fish, then more nightmarish bloody streaks at the water's edge ("Oh, damn... You can see the bloody grooves of the man's Fingers and Nails in the Snow. The Thing must've dragged him backwards into the Water") Then, they find the remains of a body almost entirely consumed, unidentifiable because all that's left are a few ribs, torn scraps of clothing, and a fucking pelvis.

Then, they find Harry Peglar... :'''((( There's not a scratch on him - it appears that he's managed to climb out of the water and frozen to death on the ice without Tuunbaq ever touching him - yet the sight of him is as disturbing as every bit of gore that's gone before: "It was Harry Peglar lying there almost naked - his few remaining Clothes mere Underthings - Curled up on the Ice, Knee Raised almost to his Chin, Legs crossed at the Ankle as if his last energy had been spent trying to keep warm by pressing his body Tighter and Tighter, his Hands tucked under his Arms while he Hugged himself in what must have been an End in Violent Shivers." "His blue eyes were open and frozen. His flesh was also Blue and as Hard to the Touch as Carrera Marble." (That last line gets me most of all, and strikes me as an interesting reference, slightly Classical perhaps? Putting one in mind of Ancient Rome and Greece, Xenophon etc.?)

But even if there's no sign that Tuunbaq touched Peglar directly, that's not to say that it wasn't involved in his death... All around his body on the ice are Tuunbaq's gigantic footprints, circling again and again and again... "The thing had Circled Harry many times. Watching as poor Mr Peglar lay Shivering and Dying? Enjoying itself? Had Harry Peglar's last shivering Image on this Earth been of that White Monstrosity looming over him, its black, unblinking Eyes watching? Why had the thing not eaten our friend?" "The Beast was on two legs the entire time it was on the floe" was all that Captain Crozier said."

If ever they had any hope left, Goodsir feels it well and truly extinguished after the hasty funeral held for Peglar, Reid, and all the other body parts they've managed to cobble together. "All of us, I believe, were Thinking that these words were a Eulogy and Farewell for each one of us. Up until this Day...I suspect that many of us still thought that we might Live. Now we knew that the odds of that had all but Disappeared..." "The Ice will not give us up.""And the creature from the ice will not allow us to leave."

Nevertheless, they carry on. Later, Goodsir goes through the dead men's remaining personal items. Bridgens approaches him specifically requesting Peglar's comb and his famous Papers ("...just a Remembrance of the man.") which Goodsir hands over, despite his own confusion. The rest is left behind on the ice as they move on, "a sad little Cairn of Mortality".

The chapter ends with Tozer and the other four remaining Marines perishing in dramatic fashion as the ice opens up beneath them in the night and closes right behind them again with a deafening crash as they're swallowed up by "the Wine Dark Sea", another delicious Classical reference to end on. :(((

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Observations #Random Observations #Meta #Rereading the Terror #Terror Spoilers #Harry Goodsir #Henry Peglar #John Bridgens #Edward Little #Solomon Tozer #Charles Frederick Des Voeux #Pain #Pure unadulterated pain

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mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year

Note

Ever played Stardew Valley? Do you have any ideas for Alex, the bodybuilder? Perhaps the marriage requirements are to feed him a lot of your veggies, farm animals and eventually other townsfolk to him for his gains. End result, a BIG beefy bara husband.

I have! But I played it using the all-male furry mod, since it gave me more gay romance options and I liked the furry look better. So that's the context you're getting for this and any other potential S.tardew asks since that's my frame of reference!

When A.lex came to the farmer, talking about bulking up, he'd been more than happy to help out his neighbor and potential crush. With all the produce being made, the farmer could spare to give a bit up to help A.lex out. It started off small, with extra eggs and hearty vegetables being donated to A.lex. The dog had been happy to accept it all. The first red flag really should have been when he complained about his plateauing weight.

The farmer gave A.lex more eggs, more produce, and even some homemade meals to try and help out. After about a week, it was almost entirely homemade meals, and A.lex was starting to show a little bit of a belly from it all. The second red flag should have been when the farmer noticed one of his chickens was missing or A.lex picking his teeth with a white feather when they hung out next.

It was a month in, and a few more missing chickens and even a pig, when the final red flag was raised up. The farmer had gone out to check on S.hane after another night of the gator's drunken stupor. When he found the man, though, there wasn't much of him left. Just a twitching tail poking out of A.lex's lips. The farmer and dog made eye contact and they were both still for a moment...and then A.lex slurped down the last of S.hane, packing him away behind strong abs.

"It'll just be the one time," A.lex promised. "He was a drunk, no one will know what happened," A.lex said. "Look, he doesn't even realize what's going on, he won't feel a thing," A.lex assured. the farmer didn't like it, but it seemed far too late to do anything about it anyway. So he spent the night relaxing there with A.lex, watching his stomach flex and churn, steadily putting that gator's mass to use. When S.hane's hat was belched up, A.lex's gut was round and taut. No one would ever recognize it as S.hane.

A.lex had been looking bigger since then, the farmer noticed. His clothes hugged his muscles more, a bit too small but still managing to hold on. His appetite was getting bigger as well. The farmer was spending more of his time giving food to A.lex at this point just to try and help out with that hunger and his bulking. But they both knew it wouldn't last.

L.inuswas next. The bear's camp was tucked away, but easy to find, and the farmer followed the sounds of a commotion to find A.lex sleeping in his tent, the bulge the bear made still squirming and yelling. The farmer ends up snuggled up to his side, and come morning, A.lex's belly would be a round, sloshing pot gut. The rest of L.inus would be gone by noon. At the same time, A.lex would sheepishly admit that he needs the farmer to get him new clothes after he ripped his old ones trying to find something that fit.

Two people went missing, but they were the types everyone expected to go missing at some point, so on one batted an eye, even with A.lex looking bigger and bulkier after each disappearance. When the farmer found A.lex in E.llito's cabin, the lion's legs kicking out of his maw, he knew he had to make a choice. Things were escalating and he had to make a decision.

One good shove and E.lliot's legs were gone, leaving him curled up behind A.lex's abs. He screamed and thrashed for all he was worth, but this was his third meal now, and A.lex's body was adjusting quickly. The farmer rubbing over his stomach didn't help, either, and the lion was no more after barely an hour.

By the time the disappearances around town were becoming really noticeable, it was too late to do much about it. A.lex would let the farmer know where he's getting his next meal during the day, and at night, the farmer would help A.lex eat and process his live food. It ends up making town rather quiet after a while, sure, but the two are more than happy with each other. A.lex's body puts all the townsfolk to good use anyway, and the farmer is more than happy to admire those massive muscles every single day. Besides, if he needs more, the two of them can always visit the city. There's bound to be more to eat there.

#v.ore #male vore #gay vore #mlm vore #m/m vore #vore story #oral vore #digestion #fatal vore #weight gain #stardewvalleyvore #alexvore #shanevore #linusvore #elliotvore #ask

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searchingforgravity · 1 year

Text

The New Maid - Part 6 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You agree to go on a date with Elvis, and things are going really well it seems until the Colonel gets Elvis into a tough situation and someone unexpectedly shows up from your past.

TW: Smut, oral (male receiving), Semi-public fingering (female receiving), Dirty talk, cleaning kink, reference to violence, mention of the Colonel, very slight exhibitionism

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 8037

A/N: It's been a while, but here's part 6! Things start to take a turn in this one as Elvis and the reader start finding out more about each other.

You smile softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands shake lightly as you bring them up to fix a strand of hair the fell out of place. Looking at the clock mounted on the wall for the seventh time in the past half hour, your heart races in your chest as you look back to touch up your face. You sigh to try and rid yourself of some nerves, turning a bit in your new dress to see how it looks from the back. It hugs your curves perfectly. A few hours after you went back to your room this morning, there was a knock on your door. When you opened it, it was a staff member you recognized from working with her, holding out a box for you. "It's from Mr. Presley," she said with a questioning look in their eye. You flushed as you took the box, thanking her and practically tearing it open when you closed the door. Inside was a beautiful maroon dress with a note. ~Hey, sweet heart. I want you to wear this tonight when we go out. I'm gonna take you somewhere nice.~ Pulling yourself out of your memory from a few hours ago, you glance back at the clock.

You know you probably shouldn't be doing this, but that flew out the window when you spent the night with him. You sigh at yourself again, an incredulous giggle escaping your lips. If you are being completely honest with yourself, you don't care if you shouldn't be doing this. You wanted to. And he wants this too. For now, you don't care that you have to keep it secret.

When the time comes to meet him up front, you are suddenly shaking again. You make your way down the hall and it's unusually quiet, making you swallow harshly as you finally reach the front door. What if he changed his mind? What if he thinks last night was a mistake? Your mind races with possibilities as you gently open the front door.

The first thing you see is the pink Cadillac running in front of you, then you see Elvis standing to your right, waiting for you. His eyes light up instantly as he sees you, trialing softly down your body before coming back to your face. You blush slightly as you look at him in return. He is gorgeous. He's wearing a matching maroon suit to the dress he gave you with a black button up underneath, the top few buttons undone, slightly exposing his chest hair. He twists at his ring on his index finger gently as he looks in your eyes. "Hell, I knew that would look great on you," he mumbles as he strides over to you, kissing your cheek softly. You blush furiously at his actions, a light ebbing of heat radiating through you as you lean into his touch. "Ready?"

Once in the car, he starts down the street. There is a palpable tension in the air as you sit in silence. This energy is more charged, it holds more weight. The two of you haven't spent a lot of time getting to know each other, the time you did spend together ending in breathless kisses. You risk a glance over to him and his eyes are on the road, his bottom lip between his teeth as he chews on it gently. "Are you nervous?" he asks suddenly, his eyes quickly glancing over to you before going to back to focus on the road. You are a bit surprised by this question as you wonder how to answer. "Yes. Are you," you ask, twisting your fingers together on your lap, wanting to not be the only one feeling this way. "Yeah, a little," he admits, his right hand coming to your knee, squeezing it gently, and you can feel a soft shake in his hands.

It completely baffles you that he could be so nervous, but it makes you happy that this seems to mean as much to him as it does to you. You bite your lip as you try to think of something to ease the mood. "You look really nice...I don't know if I told you that yet," you breathe. A small smirk forms on his lips at this as he turns down the road. "Let me buy you dinner first, baby," he mumbles, his eyes pulling away from the road once more to peak a look at you, a playfulness in his gaze. You roll your eyes but can't help the soft smile that lingers as you look out the window, your nerves easing a bit.

"Where are we going?" you ask, suddenly curious. He shakes his head at this, a smile playing on his lips. "Can't tell you that, mama. It's a surprise," he says making you groan softly. You hate surprises; most of the ones in your life haven't been good ones. He glances back over at you at hearing your slight agitation. He gently grabs your hand bringing up to his lips to kiss it softly. "It's a good surprise, honey."

After another 10 minutes of driving, he pulls up to the most expensive looking restaurant you've ever seen. Your chest suddenly feels compressed as he smiles over at you, wanting to see your reaction. This is too much. "Elvis...this is too much! I don't want you paying for this," you whine, suddenly self conscious. You aren't nice enough for this place, you think. "Well, that's a shame, I already rented the place out," he states, laughing out when he sees the look on your face. "You didn't!" you exclaim, flustered. "Do you see any other cars here, honey?" You look around, quickly discovering that he isn't lying. "Elvis," you groan, now feeling constricted in your hip hugging dress.

"Trust me, I won't go broke from tonight. Dependin' on what you order." You look at him, eyes wide, making him laugh out again. "Kidding, sweet heart. Get whatever your little heart desires," he laughs, opening his car door. Before you can open yours, he lightly jogs to your side, opening it for you. You smile up at him despite yourself. "Thank you."

After placing his hand over the small of your back, making your heart flutter the tiniest bit, the two of you are walking up to the restaurant doors. A rather handsome young man about your age holds the door open for the two of you. He murmurs a soft "Mr. Presley," while avoiding his gaze. "Calm down, son, I'm not the damn president," Elvis dismisses, even though a cocky smirk falls on his lips. The boy eases up a little at this, chancing a glance over to what new pretty thing Elvis has with him today, you assume. As soon as his eyes land on yours, they quickly trial down your body. "Ma'am," he mumbles, a soft smile playing his lips. You look away, slightly embarrassed, and Elvis snakes his arm further around your waist, fusing your hip to his.

You finally arrive at your booth, tucked away in the corner of the restaurant. Elvis holds his hand out for you to take, helping you step into the booth as he sits in after you, the warmth from his body soothing you as he scoots close. You instinctively inch closer to him when he sits down, and your heart skips a beat when he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you gently into him. You try to rid your mind of the shameful thoughts that start creeping up on you as you turn your attention to the menu. Upon first looking at it, your mouth almost hangs open. The food was more expensive than anything you would ever order for yourself. Elvis seems to notice your reaction as he squeezes softly at your side, causing you to look up at him. "Honey, please don't worry," he whispers, leaning close to kiss your temple. A surge runs through you at this. One that makes your throat close slightly. One that makes your heart beat quicken. A soft blush forms on your cheeks as he smiles softly down at you. "Okay," is all you can breathe back as you offer up a smile to him. "Good," he responds, pulling you closer.

The same boy that let you two in is apparently your waiter as he quickly makes his way over to you two after you've had a few minutes to look at the menu. When the boy approaches, you see Elvis stiffen slightly as he looks you over again. "Are you gonna let us order, or are ya' gonna stand there and gawk all night?" Elvis spits out suddenly, making the boy stutter out an apology before taking your order. Your eyes widen as he says this, your hand reflexively coming to his thigh, as if this will reign him in from his jealously. You feel Elvis' leg seize slightly upon feeling your touch, but makes no other indication that he's affected by it. When the boy walks away, you turn to him, fueled by embarrassment .

"Why would you say that?" you hiss in a hushed voice. He looks down at you, his cheeks also slightly flushed, but not from embarrassment. You see a hint of anger in his eyes. "That boy's been fuckin' you with his eyes since we walked in, that's why," he spits out, gaining anger as he says this. "Oh, honey, st-" you start before stopping yourself. Your cheeks flush violently as you let this slip your mouth. Just because you two spent the night together, doesn't mean you have the right to say that. A sting of embarrassment runs throughout your entire body as you try not to hide your face. You feel him stiffen again as you say this, surprise playing on his features. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I-I'm sorry-" "Calm down darlin'... I don't mind if you call me honey," he mumbles softly, his hand squeezing at your waist as he gazes in your eyes, lingering there for a moment; his jealously seemingly forgotten.

"You're friend seems nice," you say as you two start getting to know each other, wanting to know everything about the other as you finish your meals, sipping some wine. "He did come to my rescue the other night," you say in appreciation. He nods, smiling softly at your words, but his expression shifts. "Yeah, Jerry's a good guy. A real dumbass sometimes, but he's a good friend...I wish you'd met him under different circumstances. Scared the hell outta me," he mumbles the last part, his gaze dropping from yours. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up," you scold yourself as you swirl your half empty glass of wine, your grip tightening on the drink. "No, it's alright, sweet heart," he murmurs, his hand wrapping around your waist again. "You're okay now, that's all that matters."

After talking for a little longer, you find that you have more in common with him than you thought. You discover that you both like the same type of music, movies. You both love riding horses. "My family used to go horseback riding. It was like a tradition we did every year back in Iowa," you reminisce as you rest your hand on his thigh again. He hums softly, his gaze dropping to your hand as a smirk forms on his lips, scooting dangerously close. "Why the hell are ya' in Memphis then?" he murmurs as he leans into your touch. You let your hand slide off his leg as you try desperately to remember what he just asked you, your mind suddenly miles away with his eyes on you. "I wanted a change. I wanted to make my own life. I didn't want to live a life that was planned out for me," you say and he hums again, considering what you've said. It's not the complete truth, but it's all you can give to him now "Alright, honey," he finally decides on, not pushing you on the subject. Somehow, you don't know how, but he understands you aren't ready. For the first time that night, he brings his hands to your face, making you catch your breath as you gaze into his eyes. The air thickens as you hold you breath gazing into his ocean blue eyes. Gently, he leans down, brushing his nose to yours, causing you to lean up towards him as electricity runs through you. Your lips connect softly, as a gentle sigh leaves your mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck.

After finishing at the restaurant, he slips his hand in yours, making sure to pull you in for a kiss as you pass the server at the door, making you roll your eyes. You wouldn't admit to him in the moment, but it turned you on that he was already getting jealous of other men. It is unbelievably hot seeing him being territorial over you. After he opens the car door for you and you hop in, he gets in his side, looking over at you. "Do you wanna go back home? Watch a movie? Or we can go to the theater, I'll have to call 'em now though..." he rambles, suddenly and you notice the slight shake in his voice. Then, an idea pops into your head. "Would you maybe want to drive around on the outskirts of town?" you suggest. It was always something you did when you wanted to escape life. It's always been very therapeutic for you. Your father was never comfortable with your incessant need to drive, but he could never deny you. He smiles down at you after hearing your suggestion. "That sounds great."

I takes about 30 minutes of driving through town before you start seeing more land than buildings, and it's beautiful. There is a comfortable silence that falls upon you two, the soft music the only sound as you gaze out the window. You think back to a time where you would be in the passenger side of your ex's car in the same position you are now, looking out at the trees. But, with your ex, Ken, there was always a strain in the air. Discomfort. "I used to be engaged," you say suddenly, your gaze still outside his window. You pick nervously at your cuticle as you wait for him to respond. He stays quiet for a moment and you wonder if he's heard you before he speaks up. "Mhm," he mumbles as he gently turns down the road. "What happened, he was bad at sex?" he jokes, though his voice was laced with something you couldn't quite decipher. This makes you laugh, surprising yourself as you look over at him. He grins as he pulls his eyes from the road to look at you. Every time your eyes connect to his, you can feel something more intensely. A connection, like his eyes are a lifeline. You feel as if you could just look into his eyes and know that everything is going to be okay. "Something like that," you joke back, but your response leaves a bitterness on your tongue.

After driving for a while, Nutbush City Limits comes on the radio, your eyes lighting up. "I love this song," you and Elvis say at the same time, making you both look at each other. "Aw, hell," he says, as you both laugh. "I have a feelin' you're gonna make my life just a little crazy," he laughs, his hand coming to squeeze your thigh, higher than before. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Presley," you laugh, causing his gaze to intensify on you, his eyes darkening slightly as he hums to himself. Your breath catches as he runs circles on your thigh, inching it slightly under your dress. "You know what you do to me, don't you?" he whispers in more of a statement than a question as a sudden wanting laces through his voice. Your cheeks flush gently as you drop your gaze from his. He ever so gently inches his hand further up your thigh, just grazing your panties as he returns his gaze to the road. "Elvis," you breathe, warning him. After a moment of hesitation, he pulls his hand back down to your knee, relenting. "Can't help it, sweet heart." You wish you hadn't stopped him as you squeeze your legs together softly when he pulls his hand away, gripping back unto the steering wheel a bit tighter than before.

When you two get back to Graceland he parks in the garage, opening the door for you. As you two make your way to the side door of the house, you suddenly hear footsteps approaching at a fast pace, causing you to hide behind Elvis, your grip on his hand tightening. He brings his arm around to grip at your side keeping you hidden, lest it be his stepmother. After another agonizing moment, he releases a sigh of relief as his hold on you loosens. "Jerry, you son of a bitch, what the hell are you doin' sneakin' up like that?" he asks, agitation in his voice. "Elvis, this is bad. It's the Colonel, he-" Jerry starts, out of breath, but suddenly stops as he sees you hiding behind Elvis. At seeing Jerry's expression change, Elvis gently pulls you out from behind him, bringing you into his side, his arm wrapping around you protectively. "Jerry, you remember (y/n)," he says softly, trying to stay calm as he gives Jerry a look. "Y-Yeah, hey (y/n) nice to see you again," he says politely, making you smile at him. "Yeah, it's nice to see you," you say softly. He smiles at you, nodding as he waits for Elvis. "One second, Jer," he mumbles as he pulls you aside, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Honey, I have to go with Jerry for a bit...but I shouldn't be long. Can I come and get you when I'm done?" he asks in a hushed voice. There is now an urgency in his tone. You're not the only one that is keeping things to yourself, you think. "Of course. I'll see you later." Then, unexpectedly, he pulls you in for a kiss. The kiss is charged with something you can't quite put your finger on. Definitely frustration, but there is something else in it. It's like he wants Jerry to see him kiss you this way as he tries to deepen the embrace, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip as he pulls you closer. He wants people to see that you're his. You gasp lightly as a wave of arousal suddenly courses through you, pushing on his chest softly. Your face flushes violently. "Elvis," you mumble, warning in your voice for the second time that evening. "M'sorry, mama," he groans lowly, not sounding sorry in the least bit, before pulling away, nipping at your cheek before letting you go. You flatten out your dress nervously as embarrassment courses through you at the thought of Jerry getting an eyeful of what you and Elvis do in the privacy of your own rooms. You say your goodbyes to the two men, avoiding Jerry's gaze as you make your way to the house. When you look back at them after approaching the door, you see Elvis and Jerry rushing to the Cadillac, talking in hushed voices amongst themselves. There's an urgency in their movements, and when Elvis thinks you are safely in the house, the color drains from his face as concern washes over him, the dimly lit garage illuminating his troubled features. The last thing you see is Jerry biting down on his finger nail before nearly speeding down the road.

Concern courses through your veins as you pace in your room. It's seemed like forever since Elvis has left with his friend, making you worried that something terrible has happened. It started getting so late that you changed into your night clothes, giving up hope that he would be back for you. You write a little in your diary and talk to your mom on the phone for a bit before calling it a night. You are in bed almost asleep when you hear a gentle knock on your door. You will yourself out of bed as you open it slightly, seeing Elvis on the other side. You gasp at his appearance, his hair completely disheveled, a puffy right eye that was already becoming slightly purple, and a split bottom lip. He looked like he had been crying, but that moment had long passed him, now only exhaustion on his features. A sudden pang of fear courses through you at the sight. It feels like someone had started squeezing your heart as hard as they could, making you catch your breath. "Oh my God, Elvis," you gasp as you yank him in your room.

He puts up no fight as he lets you sit him on your bed, peeling back his now scuffed maroon suit. You run to your small bathroom, rummaging around for a first aid kit. You finally find it in the back of your cabinet and rush over to him. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" you whisper firmly, causing him to shake his head. You take an ice pack out of the kit, wrapping it before gently placing it on his eye, causing a small hiss to escape his lips. You take some ointment, squirting some on your finger before gently dabbing it on his cut lip. "Hell," he groans, pulling back slightly. "I'm sorry, honey," you whisper, running your hand along his shoulder to soothe him. He relaxes under your touch as he looks up at you. He hesitates as he brings his hands to your hips as you sat between his legs, his thumbs massaging at your sides anxiously. "I'm sorry I ruined our date-" he starts, his voice raw, and you wonder how bad he was yelling tonight as you shush him. "Don't be sorry. You should be sorry you let someone hit you like this," you mumble, anger suddenly bubbling up in you at whoever did this to him. "Don't worry sweet heart, I got him back good," he jokes, a grin forming on his face, trying to lighten the mood. "Elvis," you groan, exasperation in your voice as you slowly unbutton his shirt, seeing if there is any more injury.

At finding his chest is free from any cuts or bruises, you bring your lips to his chest, kissing it softly. He sighs as he brings his hands to thread through your hair. "My girl," he whispers softly. Despite the current circumstances, you can't help the flush that forms on your cheeks at his words. You pull your head back up to his as you study his face for any pain. His eye looks worse than you originally thought as a clear liquid runs out of the corner. You gently bring the fabric of your night dress to dab at it, making him suck in a harsh breath. "Do you need Tylenol?" you whisper, smoothing his hair away from his face as you apply some ointment to his eye. He just shakes his head, pulling you close when you finish. "Can I just hold you?" he mumbles, exhaustion filling his voice. "Of course," you breathe, placing the ice pack on your night stand as you motion for him to get up, pulling back the covers. Once you do, you pull him over to you as you strip him of his shirt, then his dress pants. He climbs into bed after you, instantly pulling you close, sighing deeply as he nuzzles into your hair. You thread your fingers through his, causing his breath the hitch in pain. You look at his hands and from the dim light of your lamp, you notice that his knuckles are completely bruised and scuffed. "Oh, Elvis," you whisper with pain in your tone as you bring his knuckles to your lips, kissing gently. He hums into your hair at your actions. "Don't get me worked up, mama," he groans as he inches closer to you. You try not to laugh at this, of course this would turn him on, even in his current circumstances. "Okay, sorry," you giggle slightly as you drop his hands from your lips, settling into bed. You both are quiet as you relax into each other. He threads his fingers through yours again softly, massaging your palm with his thumb. You're quickly realizing this is a nervous tick of his as you wait for him to say what's on his mind. "The uh, Colonel. He gets in bad situations sometimes. And he brings my family into it," he mumbles stiffly, offering up part of his life to you. It's the first time he's confided in you, and you find that it makes you like him even more. "I wish I could protect you," you whisper softly as you lean back into his warm chest. His chuckle reverberates into your back as he buries himself further in your hair, inhaling your scent. "It's alright baby. I've never gotten into a situation I couldn't get out of." You hum as you consider this. For some reason, you aren't sure why, this makes you more anxious. The conversation dies down, and soon you're falling asleep with him planting soft kisses on your neck.

When you wake up the next morning, Elvis still has his arm snaked around you tightly, snoring softly. You smile to yourself as you cuddle back into him. You can get used to this feeling. You turn in his arms, as you face him, examining his black eye. It looks a lot better this morning but still has some color to it. You are surprised its not crusted shut as you trail your thumb over his bottom lip, feeling the cut to see if it's healed any from the night before. He hums slightly at feeling your hands on him, stirring awake. When he opens his eyes, you are already looking up at him, examining his eye further. He sees you doing this as he rolls over to prevent you. "Stop treatin' me like a damn patient, woman. I'm not sickly," he huffs. "Okay, I'm sorry," you giggle softly. "I just want to make sure you're alright." He turns back towards you as he takes your face in his hands. "I'm alright, baby," he mumbles, bringing his lips to yours. He winces slightly at his bottom lip as he does this, making you smile as you thread your fingers through his hair. "Mhm, sure you're alright," you joke as you pull away to kiss along his cheekbone. He sighs at this as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

You can already tell where he's going with this as he starts running his hands up and down your sides. You feel his morning wood poking at your thigh as he pulls you closer than before, softly rubbing himself against you. You have to suppress the whine that threatens to leave your lips as you push against his chest. "Elvis, you're hurt," you mumble, even though the growing lust in your voice is betraying you. "Kiss me better," he groans, his voice groggy with sleep as he dips head head down to kiss your neck. "Elvis..." you trial, unsure. He pulls away and looks at you longingly, bringing his hand to massage your shoulder. "Please, sweet heart. My lower half ain't hurt," he mumbles, his voice now desperate as he gently rubs his erection against you once more. You groan in exasperation as you lean into him, relenting. Hearing him beg is doing things to you that you didn't know it could. "Fine, but you're only taking what I give you," you mumble. He nods obediently. "I'll be good, baby," he whispers, his fingers coming to thread through your hair. You bring your lips to his cheek, kissing it softly as his eyes flutter closed. You kiss down to his neck, your tongue running softly along his pecs, causing a low groan to escape his mouth. The saltiness of dried sweat lingered on his body as your mind wonders where he was last night and who he had to fight. He sighs in anticipation as you trial your tongue down his abdomen, stopping just below his belly button. "Honey, you don't have to," he mumbles gently, knowing that there are some areas of sex that you're still uncomfortable with. "I want to make you feel good," you whisper back as you look up at him. He swallows harshly as the look in his eyes change slightly. "Shit...okay," he groans as he brings his hands to smooth out your hair.

Insecurity starts creeping up on you as you pause just above his boxers. You've only ever given a blow job one time. You have to stop yourself from thinking of that memory with your ex as you nervously play with the strap of his underwear. Elvis isn't your ex, he's not going to judge you. You then start worrying that someone as inexperienced as you can't satisfy someone like him. At least not in the way he wanted to be satisfied. "What's happenin', baby?" Elvis questions as his hands come to thread through your hair again, noticing your hesitation. He gently pulls you to him as he gazes into your eyes, wondering what you're keeping from him. "I just- I'm not very experienced. I'm afraid I won't satisfy you the way you want me to," you whisper, your eyes dropping from his as red floods your cheeks. He smoothes you hair out of your face as you say this, a sigh leaving his lips. "Darlin', look at me." You look back at him and his eyes are full of compassion. "There's nothin' wrong with you pleasin' me this way," he explains. "...A-And there's nothin' wrong with me pleasin' you," he says the last part with a bit of hesitation, knowing it's a sensitive topic from the way you reacted to his comment the other day. "And you could never not satisfy me," he reassures you as he offers a soft smile.

"Okay," you sigh shakily, and he brings his lips to your forehead. Your heart beat speeds up slightly, your hands suddenly clammy as you bring them to his boxers again, inching them down slowly. He releases a breath when his erection springs free of its restraints, watching your every move. "I'll help you sweet heart. Just take it slow." You nod as you grip onto his thighs to keep your hands from shaking. You decide to go straight in as you wrap your mouth around his cock, sinking down slowly. He hisses harshly as he is quick to pull your mouth off of him. "That's too much honey. Take it slow, P-Put your lips around the tip," he groans, taking charge as he starts teaching you how he wants to be pleased. "Okay," you breathe as you do what he says.

You gently bring your lips to the tip of his cock, wrapping your mouth around it hesitantly. He gasps softly at this as he tightens his hands on your hair. "That's good. N-Now, uh, swirl your pretty tongue 'round it," he groans. As you do this, you taste the saltiness of his pre cum on your tongue. A surprised moan falls from your lips at this, enjoying the taste of him in your mouth. You hear a groan fall from his lips as he watches you. You start to catch on as you gently take more of him in your mouth. This time inch by inch instead of all at once. "Fuck! That's so good, sweet heart," he mumbles as his grip tightens further on your hair. You glance up at him curiously to see his head thrown back and his eyes closed, his brows knitted together. You clench your thighs together at the sight, licking a stripe along the underside of his dick, gauging his reaction. "Aw, shit, honey," he groans, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows harshly. He looks back down at you, his eyes unexpectedly connecting with yours at such an intimate moment. He sighs as he sees you already looking at him before you look away, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Don't look away. I want ya' to see what you do to me," he grunts as he brings his index finger to your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him. Your eyes dilate slightly at seeing him like this. His lips parted as soft gasps and groans spill from his lips. "Can you take me deeper, sweet heart? Don't push yourself," he adds in the end, making you feel reassured. You settle further in between his legs, trying to take him deeper, but it's hard as your eyes start to water, your airways getting cut off. "O-Open your throat, relax it," he groans as he runs his fingers through your hair in a soothing manner. You do as he says, relaxing your throat as best you can, causing him to sink further inside your mouth. A whine escapes his lips as you feel him stopping himself from thrusting into you. "Doin' so good, mama," he grunts as his hands tangle in your hair. You swallow around him as you try to rid your mouth of some of the spit you now have pooling around his dick as you practically start drooling. At feeling this action, a strangled moan falls from his mouth as his head falls back against the pillows. "Move baby, I can't take it anymore."

You misunderstand this as him wanting you to stop, so you pull him out of your mouth, making him start at the loss of contact, his hips thrusting up involuntarily. "W-What are you doin'?" he gasps and you look to see shock in his features. "You told me to move!" you say defensively, your cheeks now flushing as you realize you did something wrong. "On my cock! Not off of it!" he hollers back making your head snap towards the door, your eyes widening at his volume. "Okay! Okay! Keep your voice down," you hiss in a hushed tone, terrified now that someone might overhear. "Sorry, honey. D-Don't tease a man like that," he stutters quietly, realizing he's reacted too harshly. You are quick to return to his now throbbing erection as you slip it past your lips, loosening your throat again as you take him deeper than before. He gasps at the suddenness of it, and you look up to see his eyes fluttering closed. "Hell," he groans as he grasps your hair harder than before, making you moan on him again as you hesitantly pull your mouth back to his tip before gliding it back over him as far as you can.

"Shit, keep doin' that," he whines as you feel him tense, controlling himself again from thrusting up into you. You do this action repeatedly, gaining confidence and speed, causing soft groans to continuously fall from his lips. "Sweet heart, g-give me one a' your hands," he groans reaching out his right hand as he keeps his left firmly planted on your head. You listen as you put your hand in his. He grasps at your wrist as he brings it under your mouth, to his balls. "Do this, baby," he murmurs as he makes you cup his balls, massaging them between your fingers. You do as he instructs, making him groan louder as he brings his hand back to your head. You swirl your tongue around his cock again as you bob your head, causing profanities to slip from his lips.

After a little while of doing this, you decide to take as much of him as you can, his dick hitting the back of you throat, causing you to gag lightly. "Aw shit," he gasps and can't control the small thrust of his hips into your throat. This causes a shock of arousal to course through you. Both at his thrust and at how tight he is gripping your hair, making you whine onto him. "Baby, I'm gonna cum. You don't hafta swallow, but pull off now," he groans. You make no move to pull away from him as you lick around him once more, causing a strangled moan to fall from his lips as he bucks into again, his orgasm wracking through him as it shoots down your throat.

You swallow every last bit as he gently pulls you off, your mouth making a soft popping sound as you release him. You inhale deeply as your airways clear up and he pulls you up to him clumsily, still coming down from his high. "You okay, sweet heart? Sorry I fucked into ya' a few times," he whispers, smoothing your hair away from your face to place a kiss on your mouth. "Elvis, you can be a little rough with me. I'm not so fragile," you mumble as your face flushes a bit. "Alright, jus' wanna make sure you're okay with it," he breathes as he pulls you close, kissing you again. He pulls away slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Are ya' wet baby? You need me to take care a' you?" he questions as he leans over you, trialing his hand down your waist, inching towards your core, his lips coming to kiss your neck. You gently push his hand away, this morning isn't about you. You wanted to give him pleasure without expecting anything in return. "I'm okay, Elvis. Really, I just wanted to make you feel good," you whisper, pulling away from him as you start getting out of bed. He pulls you in for another lingering kiss before letting you go to get ready for work.

Elvis decides he wants to be with you before everyone else wakes up, so he tells you he'll meet you in the living room as he leaves to take a shower. As you make your way downstairs after getting ready for work, you see the same girl that gave you the box yesterday. She's standing outside a closet that holds the cleaning products as she whispers to another housekeeper you've never seen before. She must be new you think as you look at her. She's an older lady, maybe in her early 50's as she adamantly listens to the other young girl. When they see you, they instantly pull away from each other, pretending as if they were never talking. This makes you quirk an eyebrow questioningly as a surge of heat runs through you. Your cheeks flush as you think they must be talking about you. They know. They must've overheard from this morning. No, you try to rationalize. They look like they had just gotten there, maybe they were talking about the package you got from Elvis. You'll have to mention that to his later, you think as you walk up to them, needing to get in the closet. You mumble a quick 'excuse me' as you step past them, getting the supplies you need.

"I'm Lucy. I've seen you around recently," the young girl says making you almost hit your head on the low ceiling. You smile gently at her as you emerge from the closet. "And this is Margaret. She just started last week," Lucy continues. "Hello, I'm (y/n). It's nice to meet you two. And yes, I've seen you around, it's nice to finally talk with you." Lucy looks friendly enough, innocent, but as you look at Margaret, there is a judgement in her eye, along with something more dangerous. You don't look too long because it, quite honestly starts to make you uneasy. "I hope we'll be seeing you around miss?" Margaret asks, reminding you oddly of when Dee would speak to you. "(y/l/n)," you respond, now walking away and towards the living room. She just nods in response as they make their way outside to maintain the lawn.

You start on your usual routine as you begin dusting Elvis' various awards and framed photographs. Then you make your way over to his piano, the feather duster gently skirting along the keys. It's still hard for you to believe that you live here as you look around at the television, red flowing curtains, the cream colored couch. As you're admiring the place, you catch a glimpse of someone watching you. Your heart stutters briefly as your eyes do a double take, catching your breath until you find it's just Elvis leaned up against the door frame. You release the breath you've been holding then notice how he's looking at you. He almost has a predatory gaze as he looks you up and down, his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth, huffing softly when he catches your gaze. Even in his injured state, he is gorgeous as he wears a black turtle neck and navy blue slacks. You have to stop yourself from biting your own lip in return as you turn your attention back to your cleaning, deciding to tease him.

You feel his body warm against your back as he approaches you, his hands coming around to gently grip at your hips. "Maybe it was a bad idea, comin' down here to be with ya'. Can't stop think' 'bout that damn pussy," he groans, his lips coming to nibble at your neck. You can't help the small whine that leaves your lips as you crane your neck to look at the adjoined room, making sure no one is stirring about. Your attention is pulled back to Elvis as his hands gently snake up your waist, grabbing softly at your breasts. "Elvis!" you whisper harshly, fearing someone could walk in at any moment. "Everyone's still sleepin'," is all he responds with as his right hand comes to trail down your dress, sneaking it's way underneath, feeling how wet you are from this morning. "Fuck. Baby, you should'a let me take care a' you," he mumbles as he gently rubs you through your panties. You gasp at the sudden pleasure as your head falls back against his shoulder. He hums at your response as he slips his finger under your panties, quickly finding your clit. "That's it. Don't fight me, mama."

The scene the two of you are making is absolutely pornographic as you lean into him by his piano, one of his hands cupping your breast as the other one is buried in your cunt. If someone were to walk in, they might faint from the sight, but suddenly you don't care if anyone walks in. The only thing you care about is that Elvis keeps touching you. The tiniest whines leave your mouth as you clench your eyes shut. His middle and index finger are now buried inside you, thrusting in and out gently as his thumb circles your clit. "Mh, wish you could be louder. I love hearin' how I make ya' feel," he groans, his actions speeding up slightly as he leans down to kiss your neck.

"Elvis," you whimper softly, grabbing his arm with all your might as you try to stay grounded. He grunts at this as he pulls you further into his chest, thrusting with more energy than before. "Fuck," you whine, as your knees start to buckle. His hand that was resting on your breast quickly comes to wrap around your waist, keeping you from falling. You start seeing stars as he applies more pressure to your clit, your orgasm quickly approaching as your grip on his arm tightens. "C'mon, mama. I know you wanna cum for me," Elvis groans lowly as he now fully fucks you with his fingers, hitting that spot deep inside you that you didn't know existed until recently.

You gasp out as you squeeze your eyes shut, your orgasm hitting you full force. You can't help the strangled moan the escapes your lips as you ride out your orgasm on his fingers, grinding onto them as you clench around him over and over again. "Shit," he groans under his breath as he allows you to ride out your climax, dipping his head down to kiss your neck once more. He has to tighten his grip around your waist as your legs shake from the exertion. "Oh my god," you breathe as you try to come back down to reality. "That was so fuckin' hot," Elvis groans as he gently removes his fingers from your now drenched pussy, fixing your dress as if nothing ever happened. When you turn to him he had brought his fingers to his lips, slipping them into his mouth as he eagerly sucked them dry. The sight almost makes your knees buckle as your face flushes. "Elvis! My God," you mumble with a hint of laughter in your voice. He quirks an eyebrow at you as he pops his fingers out of his mouth. "What, baby? I had to clean 'em somehow," he states nonchalantly as a smirk plays on his face.

You are quickly learning that it's useless to try and argue with him as you smooth out your dress. "Alright, go sit down or something, I-I can't have you distracting me anymore," you giggle despite yourself. He huffs and mumbles a soft "yes ma'am," before giving you a quick kiss, trudging over to sit on the couch.

"What are your plans for the day," you ask, genuinely curious as you start spraying down his stained glass windows. After he doesn't respond, you look over at him and his eyes are glued to your frame. You laugh silently to yourself as you think he wasn't lying when he said he had a thing for watching you clean. His eyes trail back up your body to your breasts as he exhales deeply, playing with his rings absentmindedly. "Elvis," you scold, bringing your hand to your hip. His eyes come to look in yours and his face flushes only slightly as he clears his throat. "Sorry, honey. Uh...I gotta meet up with the Colonel today, talk to him about last night." You see his expression shift as he says this, and you're suddenly more curious about what did happen last night. You figure it's something to ask him a different time, when it's not so fresh. "Then me and the boys are probably gonna go out for a bit." You go back to your cleaning, a little disheartened that you probably wouldn't be spending the night with Elvis tonight. "Don't have too much fun without me," you joke as you concentrate on polishing the glass. You can almost see the smirk on his face from behind you. "Never, sweet heart."

After a long day of work, you go to your room and shower the stress of the day away. You unfortunately had to deal with Dee ordering you around for about 2 hours as she was having a small group of friends over for lunch. You also saw a glimpse of Vernon, giving him a smile. He smiled back, but there was something troubling in his eyes. You weren't sure what, but he looked like he was under a lot of stress about something. You mind automatically went back to what Elvis told you about the Colonel last night. The uh, Colonel. He gets in bad situations sometimes. And he brings my family into it.

At about 10:30 p.m., your about to call it a night when suddenly, the phone on your night stand starts ringing. confusion fills your head as you wonder who on Earth would be calling you at this hour. You think it's probably Dee calling about a last minute thing she wants you to do for tomorrow as you answer timidly. "Hello?" The line is silent for a moment, and you're about to hang up when suddenly, there's a man's voice on the other end. "Hello doll face," he mumbles into the receiver. Your confusion is quickly replaced with panic as you register who is on the other end of the phone call. Ken

Masterlist

Tag List:

@flowersofcement @looloolily @father-of-2cats @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @goldobsessionsworld @horrorgirl4life

#elvis presley x reader #elvis presley imagine #elvis fanfiction #elvis the pelvis #austin elvis imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis smut #graceland #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis presely smut

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serrj215 · 2 years

Text

What happens between chapters

"Rae!" Knock Knock knock. “Rae!” He had been knocking on her door for the last 10 minutes. Raven had hoped that Beast Boy would give up eventually, maybe thinking she had teleported away, she had considered it. But experience had shown that she could not evade his sharp ears and even sharper nose and he would find her eventually. Also, why should she run, this was her room, if she wanted to be alone in it that was her business. This is what Raven thought that her room was for. Was it so much to ask for a little peace and privacy?

Raven had spent the last hour making progress on recreating an old spell. Something lost to the ages. She was floating in her room her references orbiting around her letting her jump from one tomb to another trying to piece together this lost puzzle. In short, this had to be more important than whatever Beast Boy had wanted.

"Come on Rae! Open the door! I got a surprise for you!" Came through from the other side of the door.

The last surprise that Beast Boy brought Raven was an odd amalgamation of green leaves, tofu, and barbeque sauce that he insisted was a salad and was quite proud of, at least until she refused to share it with him.

Raven did not want to open the door but the one characteristic that entirely belonged to Beast Boy other than being green was persistence. He would leave if she just yelled at him to go away. But after that salad incident, she knew that the overwhelming sense of his guilt and disappointment would cling to her for days.

He always meant well. Beast Boy for reasons that escaped her always seemed to go out of his way to include her. Every event, movie night, game, or activity he would be at her door.

Raven willed the books she had open to close and return to their shelves. The mystery would have to wait since Beast Boy could not. She let herself descend to the floor landing gently on her feet and made her way to the door.

When the door opened at eye level she saw a teddy bear. The bear was just a simple brown bear however it had fangs, red eyes, and a black and red opera cape.

"I want to hug your neck!" Beast Boy said in an over-the-top cartoonish accent the one that is usually assigned to kid's cartoon vampires. He was hidden in the hallway holding the bear up Infront of her face.

After a pause "Beast Boy what do you want?" she asked flatly.

"Rae, did you forget there was going to be a Halloween party here?" He said stepping Infront of the doorway now holding the Bear under his arm. "Come join the fun, or at least come help us hang up stuff?"

"No," Raven said moving to close the door.

"Oh come on Rae!" Beast Boy said grabbing the door before it could close. "this will be fun."

"Then go have fun! I am fine here!" She said trying to force the door closed.

"I thought that you liked Halloween?" He asked with a grunt trying to keep the door open.

It was an assumption that everyone made. It was true that she gravitated toward the dark. Her aesthetics, her choices in stories and music. She would rather read Poe or Mary Shelly than more contemporary authors. But what most people thought of as Halloween had no real appeal to her.

She might have enjoyed Halloween If it was the type of holiday that she read about

that it was a celebration of the macabre. or maybe an attempt to connect to the unknown.

The reality was an excuse to put on cheap plastic costumes, and children to get free treats. For adults, their Halloween celebrations like with so many holidays were an excuse to act foolishly and overindulge in alcohol. Raven felt no need to celebrate that.

The Halloween that most people celebrated was for the benefit of candy manufacturers and an excuse for poorly written movies there were more violence and gore than true suspense.

She let the door go and let Beast Boy tumble inside almost landing face down on the floor, dropping Dracubear.

"Your party, let me guess, the TV will be showing a marathon of slasher fics, and Cyborg is making a punch that is blood red and is going to be served in a cauldron?” She took a few steps from the door and crossed her arms.

“Yep!”

“A ton of people, loud music, ridiculous costumes, and a running bet on who is either going to pass out or throw up from too much sugar?"

"It's going to be epic!" he agreed.

"In all the time you have known me, do I enjoy any of those things?"

Raven could almost hear the gears turn in Beast boys head and a rusted clank as the realization hit him with an "Oh"

"Oh. Indeed."

"So you are just going to stay here all night?" He asked.

"It would not be the first time, "She turned back to her bookshelves and started scanning the titles wondering if she could continue her research or dive into a novel. "or the last."

Then she felt it. The guilt that she had been trying so hard to avoid. That boy didn’t just have emotions he broadcasted them. "Don’t" She said quietly.

"Don't what?"

"Feel guilty."

"I was-"

"Empath." She stated turning back to him. "Just stop it's not like you are locking me in here. This is where I want to be."

"It just sucks that you have to be alone," he said picking up the bear.

“I do not have to be alone Beast Boy, I chose to be alone.” She watched him hold the bear looking at it. As if he had to break the news to the stuffed animal that she wouldn't be attending the party. “If I tell you that I will think about coming for a little while would that make you happy?"

Beast Boy didn’t say a word but just turned Dracubear to her and made him nod with a goofy smile on his face.

"Fine, I will make an appearance. " She said feeling better that Beast Boy's guilt had evaporated. "Now please leave."

Beast Boy turned the bear to face him and resumed the cartoon Transylvanian accent. "Come, my friend, the night is young and we must prepare" Before tucking the bear into his arm the walked out of the room.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Raven's evening had been going to plan. She had just completed a simple meditation. As for the party, she had planned on walking in, saying hello to a few people, grabbing some peanut butter cups, and fading into the shadows.

Halloween was doing it's best to fit the mood, as soon as night fell so did the temperature creating a light fog across the bay and around the tower, a waning moon played hide and seek with the clouds.

The party was well underway in the Towers ops room. Cyborg had darkened the other hallways to make sure that the tower had the right vibe. Just as Raven had predicted, the music was loud, every screen was showing a horror movie, bowls of treats were scattered on every surface, and the costumes were over the top. Except for Mas and Menos who thought they had the clever idea of dressing as each other. In all the excitement of the evening, no one noticed the cloaked figure slipping away.

He was two floors up and Beast Boy could still hear the beat of the music. He checked himself over one more time making sure his costume was in order, before closing his eyes and getting himself into character, after all this was an important audience.

His back straightened when he opened his eyes and started walking slowly and calmly down the dark corridor. There was no need to rush, after all, he was centuries old, and with that comes patience. Nervousness evaporated and left anticipation, like so many before she would fall under his power.

He came to the door and knocked quietly then stood as still as a gravestone waiting for Raven to open the door.

The door slid open. "Good evening." He said putting his hand to his chest and bowing slightly.

Beast Boys' hair was slicked back and his face was expressionless. He wore an old-fashioned black tuxedo, with a white shirt and waistcoat. His black shoes were polished and he wore white gloves. The black opera cape around his shoulders was a better look on him than the bear.

"I know that you have little interest in the celebration downstairs. Perhaps, we can share the evening another way?" His speech was formal, he spoke slowly and smoothly.

He presented her with a book holding it in both hands carefully. "A gift," he said showing her the cover. It was a copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula. "We could read it together? " He said locking eyes with her.

It took Raven a few moments to process what stood before her. His last words straddled the line between an offer and a command.

“You know, Dracula in the novel looks nothing like this.” She said referring to him and accepting the book.

He gave her the faintest smile. “Would you rather an old man with a long white mustache, hooked nose, and a pointed beard with a streak of white in it, hairy palms?”

“You have read the book?” She asked her eyes raised in surprise.

“Many years ago.” He said slowly maintaining character. “However I do have pointed ears, and I can assure you my teeth are quite sharp.”

“Beast Boy stop,” she said putting up her free hand to ward him off.

“Too much?” He asked finally sounding like himself again.

“A little,” Raven said but was not sure what it was too much of. Beast Boy was a better actor than she had realized. His performance was compelling, to say the least.

“I know it might not fit, but I went with classic Lugosi.” He said stepping back into the hall. “I can see why you like your cloak.” opening his cape that childish smile on his face. “I might keep this, I think this is a good look for me.”

“You didn't have to do this, go to the party, please.”

“Rae there is gonna be other parties, maybe we could try something different? A Halloween that is more your speed? ” Beast Boy then produced a bag of peanut butter cups he had somehow hidden in his cape. “I have come prepared.”

Raven turned to face her room and with a wave of her hand a dozen candles lit. The light danced on the walls. Raven with book in hand went to the head of her bed and sat down.

“Well?” she asked looking at Beast Boy still standing in the doorway.

“I need to be invited in,” he said.

“You’re pushing this vampire thing.”

“It has nothing to do with being a vampire, I just know better than to come into your room without your express okie dokie.”

“Get in here, before I change my mind.”

Raven’s guest walked in carefully closing the door behind him. With a bit of a flourish wrapped his cape around himself before sitting on the foot of the bed.

Raven cracked open the book. "3 May. Bistritz. Left Munich at 8.35 pm, on 1 May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; " She began reading by the candlelight.

Halloween slowly surrendered to November 1st. The sun was just starting to rise when Beast Boy stuck his head out the door to make sure the coast was clear before stepping out into the vacant hall.

He walked out with his jacket and cape draped over his arm. The collar of his shirt was open. Beast Boy turned back to Raven standing in the doorway. She was barefoot and her cloak had found itself cast over a chair sometime between the fifth and eighth chapters.

“So was this closer to the kind of Halloween you would enjoy?” Beast Boy asked stretching his neck.

Raven nodded. “You do have a nice reading voice,” she whispered.

“So same time next year?” Beast Boy asked as he started to turn down the hall.

“Wait!”

Beast Boy looked back at her. She could feel the excitement running through him, and he could hear her heart jump in tempo. After a moment of reading each other.

“You are going to forget where we are in the book if we wait that long, we could continue.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I am up for it.” He looked back up and down the hallway again before asking “Do I need to wear the cape again?”

“Your presence is sufficient.”

Beast Boy smiled and bowed slightly like had done when first came to the door before heading back to his room.

Raven closed her door quietly and stepped back into her room. She passed her burrow and the mirror attached. The collar of her uniform had been pulled down. Her fingers drifted to the mark on her neck a few inches below her left ear. She adjusted the collar covering it, prying eyes did not need to know. She could have healed it, a single chant, a mere moment of concentration and it would be gone, but what fun would that be?

In the bathroom, Beast Boy has stripped down to his pants and turned the shower on. In the mirror, he examined to dark bruise just above his collarbone. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into it, reminding himself how it was made. A knowing smile formed on his lips. When his eyes opened he had slipped back into character “Until tonight” echoed in the small bathroom.

================================

Happy Halloween.

Crossposted on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/42759873

#halloween #bbrae fanfiction #bbrae #serrj215 original #beast boy #raven

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aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 1 year

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A/N: I know it's been a long time, and some of you decided that Evocations was over for you before we rounded the final curve ... but I am still determined to finish it, bc Cabenson deserves it. This story means something to me, even though Cabenson isn't canonically endgame. So, here's the next piece. There's not too much left to cover past this, so hopefully I can do the rest of it justice, too.

Rating: 14+

Spoilers: Scorched Earth, Lost Reputation, Above Suspicion

Trigger/content warnings: references to Domestic Abuse/Violence (M/F), alcohol, Domestic Homicide including graphic description of a crime scene, nausea and vomiting

Evocations: XXV

They say you can never start over the way it was, but for just a little while, they beat the odds. Somehow, it was 2002 again, with Alex in Olivia's bed at the end of the day, it was joints shared on the roof in each others' arms, talking about their years spent apart. There were no rough edges, no fighting. Just fucking, laughter, good food, and solid sleep.

When the world once again shifted beneath Olivia's feet, for the first time it was not Alexandra who left her.

Elliot disappears as though twelve years together evaporated into the aether. No words, no phone call, not a post-it note or a 'kiss my ass' to dream on. At the end of the day that she finds out from Cragen, she walks into her apartment to find Alex making dinner.

"Elliot quit," she tells the blonde, hands fisting her hips in an attempt to push the tremble in her voice down her arms and back into her body.

Alexandra stopped dicing just shy of severing a fingertip in surprise. Biting her lip in dismay at the emotion on Liv's face, she wiped her hands and came around to the brunette, enveloping her in a hard hug, which lasted a long time.

Alex tried what she could to dispel the dark cloud that Stabler's ghost wrapped around Liv; she pulled out every trick she knew from all their stuttered years, making time for wine nights, for trying new restaurants, for black & white film festivals. They were still happy together, but the blonde knew that something inside Olivia was broken, something that all the quality time in the world was never going to fix.

Not everyone's heart is made whole by the love of just one soulmate. Part of the identity Liv had carved out of herself was made to fit into Elliot Stabler, and his absence took up as much space as his presence ever had.

Stabler had been Liv's anchor, and now Alex knew that Olivia was adrift at sea.

Throughout 2012, ADA coverage was a three-way split for SVU between Cabot, Novak and Cutter. When one of them was handling a sex crimes case, the others were handed cases in other departments. Late that year, Alex got a call telling her to meet a client at the hospital.

A pack of bustling ER nurses parted to reveal a battered middle-aged woman who looked like she had lost a battle with the not-so-jolly Green Giant. For a moment, from a distance, she looked so much like Olivia that Alexandra's heart jumped.

"Hi," she says quietly when she gets within speaking distance. "I'm ADA Alex Cabot. What's your name?"

The scared brunette looked at Alex, but the gaze was hollow. "Betty," she answers through swollen lips, "Betty Bluestone."

When Alexandra gets home that night, she is poised to start telling Liv about Betty's DV case. But the apartment is dark and silent. A ripple of discontent passes through the blonde for the first time since she returned, and she is immediately uneasy. She doesn't call, or text - opts, instead, to open a bottle of wine and order in something to eat.

Hours later, Olivia finds her swaddled in the heavy throw blanket, asleep in front of some flickering old movie. There is unfinished wine and cold Chinese on the coffee table. The brunette shakes the ADA awake, unaware of all the words that come rushing up out of the sleepy blonde's mind about the beaten woman who looks like her.

Before Alex can form any of them, Liv tells her, "Cragen's been accused of murder."

They fight with each other, but only in their heads. Olivia dives into saving Cragen, which Alex understands, as Cragen is really the only father Liv has ever known. Alex doesn't budge from the Bluestone case, which Olivia won't forgive.

It makes the Autumn longer, and colder. They don't have much time for just each other - they are ships in the night, passing like ghosts, hulking and silent. Over the weeks, Betty becomes the surrogate for Alex's protection and concern: she checks in constantly, arranges shelter, makes sure there is no contact with Mitch, and preps Betty for court until both their voices crack.

Liv goes to war for Cragen; her years at SVU, and Elliott's abandonment both tangled up in her battle plans. She learns the hard lesson that parental figures are never faultless. She refuses to lose another part of what has made SVU her home.

In the end, both battles are lost.

"Mitch, no. Leave her alone, let's just go home."

Alex is numb with the cold on the stone steps of the courthouse. Her ears lift at the sound of Betty's plaintive voice.

"I should give that bitch a piece of my mind," Mitch Bluestone rumbles back to his wife.

"I just want to go home. I've missed you."

Alexandra's stomach knots at the words that come out of Betty's mouth. She turns just enough to watch the couple continue down the steps in perfect sync, waiting to see if Mitch will throw a snarl back over his shoulder.

Their day in court had been a disaster. Between Mitch's intimidation from the defense table, and his lawyer tearing Betty apart, it had all gone to hell. It had taken an act of divine intervention to keep Cabot from screaming when Betty had apologized meekly after telling the ADA that she and Mitch were going to "try one more time."

She stood in the cold for long minutes after the Bluestones had disappeared from sight, wishing for a joint, wishing for Liv's calm pragmatism, for anything but the emptiness that the defeat had punched into her. Even if she goes home, she knows she won't find relief, because Cragen is still in lockup. Olivia has slept and showered mostly in the cribs at the precinct for weeks, sending errant text messages when she had an extra three seconds in a minute.

So Alex goes to a bar instead, tossing back martinis that make up the largest portion of her meals for the day. By the time a woman makes eyes at her from across the bar, the blonde is four drinks deep, but allows the woman to buy her one more anyway. She stands up to leave when it's empty, and isn't sure if it's the world that's spinning her on her feet, or the Wheel of Fortune.

Perhaps both.

Alex wakes in bed in the apartment, with Olivia shaking her insistently. The dull ache of a hangover is a weight at the blonde's temples as she wonders when her lover got home, and if it means Cragen's charges are dropped.

"Lex," the brunette mumbles again, "Alex. Your phone's ringing."

She reaches to the bedside table, doesn't recognize the number, puts it haphazardly to her ear anyway. "Cabot," she muffles out.

"ADA Alexandra Cabot?" The voice on the line is far too awake for the hour, and Alexandra winces.

"Yes."

"We found your card in the effects at our crime scene. Is a Mrs. Elizabeth Bluestone your client?"

Her blue eyes snap open wide as she sits up in the bed. Olivia is already back to sleep and breathing softly. "Yes. Did she ask for me?"

There is an apologetic pause on the line, then: "Uh, no ma'am. She's dead."

Mitch is arrested and long gone from the scene by the time Alexandra arrives. The one cop car that remains outside has lights but no siren, the blue light illuminating the windows in staggered flashes. The darkened house full of shadows hulked on the lawn in the eerie quiet that follows chaos.

Unlike Olivia, who could flash a badge and push her way in to nearly anywhere, ADA credentials didn't grant Alex much entry. She waited uneasily for someone to fetch the cop in charge so she could get inside, and a younger guy, the one that had called her she presumed, came out to meet her.

"Neighbor called in a Domestic Disturbance," he explained quietly as he lead her into the house, "which escalated to Shots Fired before we even arrived. The husband went quietly enough, but the woman was DOA. We found your card in the pocket of her jeans."

At the end of the hall they turned into the bedroom, and Alex was hit immediately by the tell-tale scents of domestic violence that has reached its climax: sweat, gun powder, and the copper-metal tang of spilled blood. Her stomach lurched, already disquieted by her hangover.

Off the master bedroom there was an ensuite. The light inside it was on, the coroner and a CSI stood near the doorway, trading quiet murmurs between them.

"I don't imagine this was their first fight," the young cop said.

"No," Alex confirmed, her heart racing at the idea of looking inside the bathroom. She took another couple steps forward, then halted again. "Did he say anything?" she asked, "The husband?"

The police officer cleared his throat. The coroner, the CSI, both turned their heads to look at him. "He said . . . he said he wished he'd've had more bullets. Ma'am." He took a breath to tell the tall blonde ADA that she didn't have to go in there, but it was too late - she had closed the distance between herself and the doorway.

Alex swayed on her feet for just a second. Her nostrils flared, heart racing as her pupils dilated with the shock of fight or flight. Blood coated the bathroom tile, parts of the walls, and flecked the porcelain of the fixtures. Betty had dropped where she stood, a freeze-frame of her last moment, eyes wide open and a hole bulls-eyed into her forehead. The blood pooled around her head that had soaked into her dark hair was scattered with bits of brain and scalp and splinters of skull bone.

Mitch had said "I should give that bitch a piece of my mind," earlier that day, but instead had gone home and painted the ensuite with pieces of Betty's.

But the worst part were her eyes.

Not that they were open. Not even that they were dull with the finality of it all.

No, the worst of it was that instead of looking surprised by the turn of events the night had taken, Betty looked as meek and as cautious as she'd looked when apologizing to Alex after court. There was no righteous indignation, no pleading or regret.

Betty Bluestone looked for all the world as if she had been expecting it.

Betty Bluestone looked relieved.

Alexandra didn't see the long pale grey hallway wall, or recall ducking the crime scene tape as she rushed past the cop watching the front door. The next thing her eyes fixed on was the Bluestones' lawn as she threw up whatever was left of her drinks from earlier that evening. Normally, the ADA would be ashamed of such a rookie move, but Alex was past it that night. She was past all of it, perhaps for the first time in her whole life.

As the cold night air seeped into her skin, she thought of all her years at SVU. She thought of her years on the run - from Wisconsin to other made up lives, of all the people and love lost along the way. Then of Africa, of how anything she did there had been little more than a drip in a giant bucket of war and violence that never ended. Alex thought of Holland, of Knopf the cat, of Sky High, of the children she was probably keeping Olivia from having. There was all that loss, all those endings, all the change and activism that she had wanted to achieve.

And there was Betty, getting cold on the bloody bathroom tile.

It wouldn't do.

Not anymore.

The clean white light from above the stove is the only illumination in the apartment when Olivia gets home the night of the day of Betty Bluestone's death. Cragen is still in lock up. Cassidy had been shot. Her entire world was upside down, and all she wanted was to crawl into Alex's arms and find sleep that wasn't tainted with the impotence of all her efforts.

On the counter across from the semicircle of light was a little dark object that Liv didn't recognize. She stumbled through taking off her shoes as she got closer. Slowly, a faint smile crossed her features as she held the item up into the light, turning it.

It was a set of Nesting dolls, but instead of the traditional Russian doll style, they were painted to look like a female cop in uniform. Liv twisted the doll open to get to the next one, closing the largest and setting it aside. She repeated with the second doll.

The third doll was not a cop.

Liv frowned. The third wooden doll was a likeness of Alex: blonde, court-ready in a formal skirt and jacket combo, her reading glasses on. Then the fourth and fifth dolls went back to cops in uniform. Lastly, even stranger, the tiniest of the dolls was painted as a baby. It was just a tiny, indistinguishable face, swaddled in a white blanket. Olivia used a fingernail to part the seam in the wood and popped it open.

Inside of it was a ring.

Alex's ring.

Olivia had bought it for her for the first birthday they'd spent together after Alexandra's return. It complimented the diamond and rose gold one that the blonde had bought all those years ago.

The finality of it gripped Liv slowly, a tingling numbness that started in her toes and filled her all the way up. It felt familiar, and somehow different all at once.

The Matryoshka doll was Alex's goodbye letter.

Olivia was finally, truly, alone.

TBC

#law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #cabenson #evocations #hearteyes4mariska #my writing #wlw ship #f/f ship #nbc svu #captain don cragen #brian cassidy #matryoshka #nesting dolls

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thenightlymirror · 6 months

Text

I have finally silenced the notes on the bird math post, for a funny reason, so that I would have a normal dopamine feedback response with this app.

Sick shit.

Sofia, I forget if I used some other name before, thinks it’s weird I go to Quaker-church, which I always refer to as Quaker-church so that people know the difference. She made a funny face. It’s one of two funny faces of hers I’ve collected recently.

The other was when the president of the granite company stopped by, and never meeting him before, I jumped out of my chair and hugged him. Bipolar’s gonna happen, one way or the other. I was very excited to meet him, because there are two guys at that company named John, and I had no idea who the hell was who. Those people never introduce themselves. And then people go, Oh, John was here, did you see him? No. No I didn’t. Faces un-engraved. I explained this all to him. He kept asking “Are you in sales?”

She did her best to cringe in such a way that it would contort the empty space between her side of the room and mine, and maybe twist my mouth shut.

I showed her that I finally figured out how to type out this woman’s name in Assyrian.

We sit together at lunch sometimes and she reminisces about when she was a foodie. (She’s a vegetarian now. No processed foods.) I challenged Harper to eat sardines with me my first week back, and that made some kind of impression on her. So we talk about exotic meals as we eat our Soylent of the day.

Harper and I never eat together. I’ve gotten into this strange habit of buying her lunch. I suppose it’s a kind of fawning gesture. There was some humiliating incident where I tried to pawn my Jimmy John’s gift card on her on her birthday, however long ago, and she was catastrophically annoyed. Which says enough, I think. But for some reason, she’s relented, and when I’m throwing on my coat to run out for Culver’s, I ask, “You want anything?” And she says yes. She either gets cheese fries, or when she’s actually hungry, chicken tenders with BBQ sauce. She’ll sit at her desk by the lunchroom door while I eat my sandwich alone.

I justify it to myself a few ways. One, there must be one person you choose to be kind to, out of practice if anything. I’m am afflicted with some kind of ingratitude that I can’t quite explain. Maybe nothing from me could ever really be worth anything. A gift from me is a sort of affliction in itself. That’s not entirely false. Also, she never eats. The women in the office gossip about how skinny she is, and it’s jealousy, mostly. I never watch her eat. She could save every bite for her gf and I wouldn’t know the difference. Not sure it makes a difference.

Sofia planned a potluck for the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. She’s trying to make the place less toxic. And despite the poisonous people involved, it was a smashing success. It took me a while to decide what to do, but I made a vegetarian chili, with impossible meat and soyrizo, 5 different kinds of peppers. Spent 6 hours reducing it on the stove. Froze it, thawed it, warmed it in the instapot on the lunchroom counter. It was loved. A genuinely beautiful day, I’d say. I was anxious about it for days, that something must go wrong. I’m just incapable of doing anything nice. But everyone loved it. Even Big Jim had some before he Irish-goodbyed.

I had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving, so I stole all Phyllis’s turkey and stuffing for myself. A huge tray of it. Still sitting in my fridge, honestly. That’s how much. And to fair, I never felt without. Despite my constant awareness of how orphaned and pathetic it must look.

Harper was excited and talkative. I try not to write about her too much. I find it indulgent. Writing is a way of reliving, relitigating. If you have a few nice things in your life, you can’t clutch them, you have to let them be what they are.

All that was well over a week ago. Made a potato soup today from a hambone that’s been in my freezer for over a year. I gave myself food poisoning last December and I’ve basically been terrified of cooking outside my comfort zone ever since.

I tried explaining to Sofia, when you’re fat, everyone is always gawking at you imagining you being some kind of pervert for food. So, you repress all enjoyment of it. I hate food. But I don’t. It becomes complicated.

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casspurrjoybell-22 · 23 days

Text

The Art of Sin - Chapter 7 - Part 1

•Blue Nekozuka (Neko)

*Warning Adult Content*

I looked myself over, admiring how the pair of ripped skinny jeans hugged my ass nicely.

I also wore what Bain referred to as an 'off the shoulder' shirt.

It was a blue and black striped and under it I had on a black tank top.

I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard but I was excited.

Lord Nikoli, Keon, Bain, Blue and I were going into the city.

It would be my first outing since coming here.

Bain, Blu and I were going in Ire's stead to buy a few groceries as well as some home items while Nikoli had to meet with someone.

Keon decided to tag along so he could buy computer parts.

I thought back to when I first learnt of Keon's love of technology.

I had stumbled into his room on accident.

Blue had become much friendlier since I saved him, always asking if I wanted to do something and on that day I had agreed to play hide and seek tag.

After I caught my breath after making a mad dash across the manor, I stumbled into the first room I could find.

When I turned, I was greeted with frowning Keon wearing a pair of bulky headphones and sitting in front of five computer screens, the image of a first-person shooter on them.

It struck me as odd.

He had the body of a jock more than a gamer so I assumed he enjoyed more physical activities.

He hadn't spoken much during my time here either.

We've only exchanged words a few times since he greeted me the first day and then when the incident with Blue happened.

I was surprised when he went back to his game, accepting my presence, issuing orders like a pro and spewing curses when something went wrong.

While I listened, amused at the various curses he strung together, I noticed the shelves and shelves of video games and merch.

I didn't know what any of the thing were but I thought it was nice seeing this side of Keon.

I spent the rest of the day with him, just sitting silently at first until he gestured for me to come closer and handing me a controller.

I'd never played a video game but he was patient, even seeming to enjoy teaching me, especially when I kept dying and even cheered when I got my first kill.

After hours of playing a game called 'Call of Duty' which I quickly became addicted to, spouting off curses like I'd been playing forever, we walked down to dinner and also an angry Blue.

Even though I felt guilty for ditching the game, I felt like I experienced something important.

When I mentioned what I'd been doing to Bain, he was shocked, saying that Keon hated when others interrupted his gaming and threw them out with a few burns if they were lucky.

I smiled at myself in the mirror, once again feeling what I could only describe as fluttering in my heart.

It was a queer feeling that I didn't know what to do with.

With one last glance, I walked out to meet the others in the front.

Besides Lord Nikoli, they were dressed in their everyday clothes.

They smiled at me as I descended.

For some reason, I avoided looking at them, my cheeks red but they continued to stare at me even after I stopped next to them, not saying a word.

I awkwardly cleared my throat.

"Er, so Ire wants us to get some things?"

Bain snorted, pulling out a piece of paper, words scrawled all over it.

"Yeah, a whole truck load," he sighed.

I personally didn't mind if it took awhile, maybe I could find some guy to vent out my frustrations on.

It wouldn't be the first time I had a quickie in public.

Lord Nikoli continued to stare at me, a slight frown on his face as he ignored Blu's rant.

It unnerved and excited me at the same time.

I wanted so badly for him to reach out.

To rub his hands up and down my body.

To slowly undress me as the others joined in and wait no, I didn't.

I didn't want him or anyone else here.

I just needed a release.

It didn't matter who it was from.

My eyes narrowed as I noticed his smirk.

"What's so funny?"

His grin only grew.

"Oh, nothing."

Before I could question him further, he lead us out the door.

There was a silver Hummer parked in front, the sun glinting off its shiny surface.

We all got in, Keon and Bain took the back with a small Blue squeezed between them.

Judging from his soft moans floating to me, I'd say he was more than fine with the arrangement.

I had to make a conscious effort to not react to his meows of pleasure.

With them taking up the back, I was forced to sit up front with Lord Nikoli.

It was probably because he had, what seemed like, the most self control.

God knows that if I was in the back they'd already be deep inside me.

I glanced at Lord Nikoli, an evil smirk appearing but I quickly masked it, taking a deep breath as I began to construct a scene in my mind.

********

I began to undress, rubbing myself between the layers of clothes, soft gasps departing from me as I pinched my nipples.

Once my manhood sprang free, I lowered my hand, stroking myself as Nikoli watched.

My other hand ran up and down his thigh until it made it's way to his own crotch, quickly unzipping his pants and taking his thick member in my hand, slowly stroking him.

His shallow breaths only egged me on and my hand began to pump faster until it was replaced with my mouth.

My tongue circled his tip, drawing out a moan as his fingers wound themselves in my hair.

I licked his length until he was coated with my saliva.

He shuddered as I took him into my mouth, my head slowly dipping before picking up speed.

When I though he was close, I stopped, gaining a growl of protest before slowly crawling into his lap.

I trailed my fingers up and down his chest and then lowered my head to sucked his neck, marking him as mine.

He growled and tried to touch me but I stopped him, reaching between us to holding our members together.

Pre-release coated our lengths, making them slick as my hand slid up and down, the feel of his against mine making me moan in his ear.

"Please fuck me, Nikoli."

********

I heard a moan and looked to Nikoli.

His face was red as he glared at me with a mix of annoyance, lust and amusement.

I gave him the most innocent look I could muster, batting my eyes.

"Having trouble Nikoli?"

He glared, though the smirk on his face told me he wasn't actually mad.

"You know what you did," he pointed to his crotch.

"Now I have to go and change my pants."

He gave me and the others a strained smile before getting out and walking to the house.

"What'd you do?" Blue asked.

They were all looking at me, Keon's hand currently down Blue's pants while he sat in Bain's lap.

"Made him jizz his pants," I grinned.

Bain barked out a laugh while Blu snickered.

Keon just wore a smirk, removing his hand and setting it on his lap.

We all shut up when Lord Nikoli came back, casting a suspicious look to us when we couldn't hold back our smiles.

"Soooo...?" Blu drew out.

"How much is it gonna cost you to get spoof out of your britches?"

The glare Lord Nikoli sent didn't stop our laughter.

He just huffed and turned the key in the ignition, making the Hummer roar to life before he began down the driveway.

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capybaraonabicycle · 1 year

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Propaganda - Crack Fic Edition

Why you should vote for Doctor/TARDIS explained by Missy...or something like that

@drwho-shipbracket is doing an amazing tournament for dw ships at the moment and we're at the semi-finals! It's Doctor/TARDIS against Doctor/Master and you should all go there and vote for the Doctor and their beautiful blue box ❤

I have written detailed arguments about why Doctor/TARDIS are the ultimate ship and core of the show and why they need to win the tournament in the reblogs of earlier rounds (like here). So, for this round, and because I love thoschei with all my heart, too, I decided to write a fic instead where I have the Doctor explain why Doctor/TARDIS needs to win. Among other things.

I don't think I have ever written a less serious or more meta fic and I haven't written for Missy in a while, so that was fun :)

So, please, go and vote for Doctor/TARDIS and enjoy some Missy/Twelve/TARDIS banter and fourth-wall-breaking in the meantime!

„MISSY!“ the Doctor arrived at the console room, out of breath. “Have you seen my guitar?”

Missy was leaning against the railing on the upper level, looking up from a book that she had been carefully ripping pages out of. She closed the volume with a dramatic stretch of her fingers, propped her arm onto the railing and tilted her upper body in his direction, loudly drawing breath to speak.

“See” she purred. “You are coming and asking ME. Not your ‘ship’.”

She pronounced the last word more like ‘sheep’ but it was clear who she was referring to and the TARDIS beeped indignantly. The Doctor frowned in confusion.

“I asked the TARDIS first” he said. “She implied you hid it.”

There was a confirmative hum and Missy tutted displeased, muttering ‘snitch’ under her breath.

“So?” the Doctor repeated. “Where did you put it?”

Missy pulled a mockingly pitying face. “Can’t she tell you that? Doesn’t she know? Or doesn’t she want to?”

The frown deepened and a hand shot out, soothingly stroking over the console. “She obviously wanted to give you a chance to confess first.”

“Nope” Missy said, popping the p-sound. “She - wants to gloat.”

The TARDIS gave a happy chime at that and the Doctor’s hand stopped abruptly in its caresses.

“At me?” he asked. “Did you two try and play a prank on me together? What is going on here?”

Missy huffed and the TARDIS let some lights flash, looking just as displeased.

“No, not ‘together’” Missy snarled. “And she’s gloating at me. Not everything’s about you.”

“Well, you did steal my guitar so it has something to do with me” he pointed out and she rolled her eyes.

“Look at the screens” she said quickly and almost disinterestedly.

“What?”

“Look at the screens” she repeated in a sing-song. “Those bright, blinky, move-y thinks at the console? Come on, I know you can do it, I’ve seen you stare at them daily for hours.”

He glared at her antiques, but then he complied. Annoyed, he pulled one of the screens closer, not sure whether he wanted to see what it would show him and whether it would bring him any closer to finding the guitar.

When the screen faced him, an image popped up, showing two portraits. The left was of himself exiting the TARDIS, the right one showed two people he was unfamiliar with. Or, no, he knew the man! That was his old pal O from MI6! Underneath, two bars were stretching one above the other, reading ‘Doctor/TARDIS’ and ‘Doctor/Master’.

“It’s a populahrity-contest” Missy drawled. “And I’m losing. To a box.”

The TARDIS chirped merrily and he felt her presence draw closer over their psychic link, like she was hugging him.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course, you don’t” Missy said. “Because you’ve spent too much time on Earth and your mind has turned all mushy. Like those pudding-brains.”

“Hey” he complained. “That’s my insult. Make up your own!”

“It’s a tumblr-poll” she explained. “You know? Little humans getting together on a blogging platform? Talking about all their silly little interests?”

“I’m familiar, yeah” he growled, drawing his eyebrows together. “Courtney put a picture of me there, once.”

When he looked up, Missy was grinning at him, teeth bared like an apex predator. “I bet they ate that right up. You’re just their type.”

He blinked, not understanding.

“Whatever” she piped. “They made a tournament about us. Put all their little ships and pairings together and thought they could decide which one was best.”

“Is there a point to this?” he asked, drumming his fingers on the console impatiently until the TARDIS gave him a small electroshock in warning. “Because I’d rather find my guitar and practice than listen to you go on about nonsense, in all honesty.”

“They voted you and the TARDIS over us!” Missy complained. “Saying your relationship with your ship was more important than me!”

“Yeah, obviously” the Doctor agreed and her mouth dropped open.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?”

“They call me ‘Madman with a box’” he started, when she interrupted him:

“It’s not a nickname if you give it to yourself, darling.”

“They call me ‘Madman with a box’” he repeated stubbornly. “Not ‘Madman with a crazy childhood friend who keeps trying to kill them’.”

“I wonder why that is” Missy piped. “When that highly flattering description of me isn’t a mouthful at all. Really has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“I’m just saying, everyone knows it’s the TARDIS and me” he shrugged. “Always has been.”

He clapped his hand against the rim of the console in satisfaction, and the TARDIS hummed in agreement.

“How about ‘Madman and his Master’?” Missy proposed, not ready to give up yet.

He scoffed. “Yeah, like that wouldn’t give anyone the wrong idea.”

She bit her lip playfully and wrinkled her nose. “I like it, too.”

“You’re not even calling yourself ‘Master’ right now” he said, sounding a little tired. “Besides, I’ve never heard anyone say that, either.”

“They could” Missy proposed. “I could start a new trend.”

“Knock yourself out.”

The TARDIS laughed pretty intervals and Missy’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“I’ll remember this the next time he sends me to do maintenance” she threatened.

The Doctor sighed. “Come on, now, you two, don’t fight.”

“Tell her that” Missy snarled while the TARDIS was sending him a similar sentiment via the psychic link. “I’m the one booted out by a rubbish police box when I was there first.”

The TARDIS didn’t seem to agree with that timeline, even though the Doctor could not figure out, why.

“Perhaps” he allowed. “But the TARDIS and me, we’ve been together way longer in total.”

“You’re not making it any more likely right now that I’ll return the guitar” Missy scoffed.

On cue, the TARDIS gave a chime and one of the round things lit up. Missy scowled.

“Snitch” she repeated, loudly this time.

The Doctor ignored the round thing, walking up the stairs towards Missy.

“Come on, now” he said soothingly. “There’s really no reason to be cross. You’re both important to me, just in different ways.”

“Yeah, she’s more important and I’m less important, I got it.”

“No. Yes. No, but that’s not the point.” He reached for Missy, stopping himself when she drew back.

“Missy” he started. “I value our relationship, you know that. And as…difficult as things are right now, that doesn’t mean that what we have isn’t precious. You are right, you are my oldest friend and I hope against my better judgement that we can be friends again, someday. When I said, I understand that the TARDIS was winning, I did not mean to imply that what we have doesn’t mean anything, okay?”

She pursed her lips, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“Okay” she agreed softly.

He smiled. “It’s just. No one can compete with the TARDIS. We’ve been together for centuries, we’ve basically morphed together into one entity. You are important, and you influence me, but you come and go. If the TARDIS was gone forever, I would not know who I’d be anymore. It would fundamentally change me; it already has the last time I thought I had lost her, actually.”

There was a nudge at his consciousness again, confirming that the TARDIS agreed.

“You did quite well without her, defending that stupid planet” Missy scoffed and he smirked.

“Did you just accidentally pay me a compliment?”

“No!” She crossed her arms in front of herself defiantly, then she shrugged. “I guess I should be glad it’s the spaceship beating me and not one of your ‘schnacks’.”

“My companions?” the Doctor asked, surprised. “Were they an option, too?”

“Yeah” Missy drawled. “But don’t worry, they all got voted out quickly. Seems like the Internet doesn’t like to see you fooling around with humans, either. I was surprised Professor Song didn’t make it further, though. Since you married her and all that.”

“River?” the Doctor asked.

“Yes, ‘River’. Unless there’s another person called ‘Professor Song’ you’re married to. Wouldn’t put it past you.” Missy rolled her eyes. “Not that she lasted very long with me, either.”

She pushed past him and down the stairs, approaching the screen where the poll was still visible. The TARDIS gave a warning hum, but she pointedly ignored her.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor asked in alarm, following her.

“Calm down, you two” Missy chuckled. “I am merely changing my vote to 'Doctor/TARDIS'. You have convinced me and now I am – “

She shook her hands with flourish, perhaps trying to imitate jazz-hands. “- openly showing my support.”

“You can do that?” the Doctor frowned.

“I’m the queen of evil” she said. “I can do anything.”

She clicked around on the screen, then leant back in satisfaction.

“There” she said, happily. “Done. Now I’m backing the winning horse. Bit sad that I’ll be out of the game, I have to say. I had such high hopes. Not for you, really. Mostly for myself and Clara.”

“Clara?” the Doctor echoed.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You don’t remember her” Missy smiled sweetly while the TARDIS dimmed the lights at the mention of the name. “Don’t worry, it’s not like she was important, apparently. We got voted out first round.”

She scrolled around on the screen, delighting at something she saw.

“Turns out, so did you” she grinned. “You got beat by Jane Austen in the quarrel for Clara's affection, Doctor.”

“That can’t be true.” He reached for the screen, flinching at the results.

“I may get beaten by a time machine” Missy lilted. “Which is only because you’ve got terrible taste, by the way. But you got beaten by an 18th century human with a quill. That’s priceless!”

He reached for a lever as if on instinct, trying to fly them back in time and right that dent to his ego. But when he pulled the lever, nothing happened. He cursed.

“What?” Missy teased. “Does your ‘sweetheart’ not agree, that fixing an internet poll is a valid reason to risk creating a paradox? Would you like to give her ‘final adjustments’?”

She held up a wooden hammer and for a second, it looked like the Doctor considered taking it.

“No, of course, you’re right, dear” he said instead, laying his flat hand onto the console. “It doesn’t matter.”

And if it looked to Missy like his jaw was tightening, then that was definitely just because of the feeble lighting.

“Come on” she laughed, elbowing him. “You can still weigh in on the current polls. You can vote for your box. And decide whether you’d rather be beaten by a lizard next round or by your own parents in law. What do you say?”

“…Fine” he agreed, crossing his arms. “What do I need to do?”

“Oh, nothing much” Missy’s eyes sparkled with mirth and the TARDIS beeped excitedly and opened a new, colourful window on the screen. “We’re just going to create a tumblr account for you.”

Thank you for reading! Click here to cast your vote! And click here if you want to vote Ponds vs Paternoster Wives!

#doctor x tardis #tardis #the tardis #12th doctor #twelfth doctor #missy #doctor who

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soletlunasims · 1 year

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-This is my last post before I'm all caught up. Which means I can play the game again. Yay! I want to try to do a format in which the photos tell the story and I just provide dialogue. I see that as a popular format and I find it very fun as a reader myself. For now, let me get this last bit of what I'm loosly referring to as the epilogue out of the way-

Ares spent a lot of time with work stuff. And I mean A LOT of time. So much so that her and Xaidin saw each other for maybe an hour before bed every night. They usually spent it watching the news. Xaidin needed to for his job as well as Ares.

They would often go to bed by 9 and practically fall asleep instantly. Their love life was suffering. Not that it was thriving to begin with. Ares mood was suffering due to the stress put on her. Not from her job, but from her fiancee who kept trying to bring up wedding stuff. She rolled her eyes anytime he mentioned it. "It'll happen! But you have to bear with me. This next election is really important for the mayor. This reflects on me majorly. The game is being played. I'm almost at a checkmate. After the election we can talk about it all you want, okay?"

Ares tried to keep focused on her goals, but she was also worried about doing the same thing she did to Gunnar. She was pushing the ones who cared about her away. This weighed heavy on her, especially when she got a call from Caleb. "Hey, Dad..... Can't talk right now. I'm super busy wi......" She stopped her sentence in it's tracks when she heard a faint whimper and a weak voice come from Caleb. "Ares..... It's... It's Chip..... He passed away last night. I'm so sorry. I know you two had your differences but...... Did you..... Did you want to come say goodbye to him?" Ares said nothing at first. She couldn't believe it. Her father was gone. And she never got to make amends with him. Eventually she found her voice. "I will be on the first plane home tomorrow." She said tears streaming down her cheeks. For the first time in a long time, Ares was going home. But it was not for happiest of reasons.

Ares got home in the afternoon the next day. Her and Caleb hugged for a long time, crying together. They sat on the couch and caught up, talked about Chip, discussed what it was gonna be like for Caleb now that he was gone. Caleb told Ares that he was planning on giving chips ashes to Gunnar and Bowie. "You aren't keeping them?" Ares questioned.

Caleb wiped tears from his eyes. "I would love too. But I have so many more memories right here. Of him and you. I figured you wouldn't want him. You're not that kind of sentimental. But Gunnar? He truly cherished Chip. Bowie did too. I know you don't like me talking about them..."

Ares sniffled. "No... No. It's okay. I know he was a big part of their lives. Gunnar deserves to take him if he wants to."

Caleb put his hand on Ares lap. "Good... So, then..... Will you take Chip to him?"

Ares froze. She didn't know what to say. What Caleb was suggesting seemed crazy. Would Gunnar even want Ares to be the one to break that news to him? She seemed to think that was a huge mistake. But she also didn't want to put Caleb through that in this tough time. She had put her family through enough. It was her time to step in and console them.

Ares nodded at Caleb and hugged him tight. She was scared of seeing Gunnar but she knew she had to get over this hurdle. She would also have to find an excuse for leaving Xaidin behind. She couldn't tell him she was going to see Gunnar. Even Xaidin didn't know about him or her illegitimate child. Ares was learning fast that some mistakes just won't go away no matter how hard you try.

Ares stayed with Caleb for about a week. When she went back home, she had to give Xaidin a quick excuse for why she was leaving so soon again..she was nervous. Her plan seemed to obvious. So soon after a family emergency? There's no way he would buy it. He would know something is up. She lied to him. "Sorry, Darling. I know it's so sudden but the mayor wants me to do some small town snooping into what the common voter wants to see from their elected officials. I have to go on a business trip for the weekend. I'm sorry.... I'll make it up to you when I get back, okay?"

Xaidin questioned her. "Are you sure you want to do this right now? Your father just passed away. Will you be okay on your own? I have vacation....."

Ares cut him off. "NO!....uh..herm.... Ah no. No need to take off. I'll be plenty okay. I'm a tough cookie. You know me. Besides, I need you here to keep me posted on any pressing details that pop up in the news that may need my immediate attention. I know I have my phone for that but no where is faster than getting information straight from the horses mouth."

Xaidin takes the bait. He seems compliant and wants to be there for Ares any way he can. If she needs him home and working, then that's what he'll do.

Ares spends the day packing for her new trip. Then she rewards herself with a nice soak in the tub while watching the sun set. She thinks about the days to come. She tries to relax but it's incredibly hard to.

The next day, Ares got on a plane headed to Gunnar. She called him in advance to meet at the airport. Gunnar was frustrated with her at first "What?! I'm just supposed to drop my life for you? Now? Why? Ares, I don't like your games."

Ares strained her voice to try to make it sound like she wasn't crying. "It's not for me, Gunnar. It's for Caleb."

Gunnar texted Caleb asking about what Ares was talking about. Caleb confirmed that he should meet her at the airport and that he was sorry he couldn't be there himself. Gunnar was very confused. But he trusted Caleb.

When Ares met Gunnar at the airport, they awkwardly waved at each other. They had an uncomfortably long car ride ahead of them. Most of the drive was silent, until they had this conversation:

Ares: "We aren't going to your house, are we?"

Gunnar seemed annoyed at that question. He knew she meant because she didn't want to see Bowie. "...no."

Ares felt relief: "okay. Good."

Gunnar's anger lead him to curiosity. "What if we were, Ares?"

Ares: "huh?"

Gunnar: "What if we were going to my house? Would that be a problem?"

Ares: "please, Gunnar.... Don't do this."

Gunnar said nothing for a moment. Then he piped back up. " Why are you here anyways? Can't we have this conversation in the car? You came all this way. I assume you have something for me. But if that's the case, we can just pull over. You can hand me whatever it is and I can send you back home."

Ares: "Look. I'm just as uncomfortable as you, Gunnar..... Can we just... Sit in silence for a bit?"

Gunnar obliges her.

About an hour later, they get to the Moonwood Mill inn. A motel on the edge of the old mill.

Gunnar parks the car. "Welcome to Casa Del HopeYouDontGetBugs."

Ares: "We're staying here?"

Gunnar snorts. "We? Fuck no. Everything in Moonwood Mill is spitting distance from each other. I live across the bridge. You can see from here if you're behind the motel. No. YOU are staying here."

Ares looked at the dingy Motel then realized something. "Wait! Where's....?"

Gunnar: "Bowie?" Gunnar grinned. It was a bit sinister feeling. "I told you. Everything here is within spitting distance..... The neighbors are watching him. I tried calling Chip but he didn't answer. Come to think of it, he usually comes over at least on the weekends. He missed last weekend. This one as well. And for Caleb to call me...." Gunnar was getting luggage out for Ares when he suddenly stopped. He made a grave realization. He set the suitcase down that was in his hands as he stared at the rest of the luggage. He noticed a box. Tears started to well in his eyes. "Don't tell me that's......" He looked at Ares who was silently crying a foot away from him, looking right at him. Gunnar grabbed the box and opened it slowly. His heart sank. He fell to the ground and started crying, clutching the box. "Dad."

Ares went over to Gunnar and put her hand on his shoulder. All of the tension both of them felt, all of the aggression and anger they had toward each other. It had dissipated if only in that moment.

They sat there for a while. They both cried and held the urn. Eventually, they became composed enough to talk about it.

Gunnar: "It all makes sense now... Chip never missed my calls. He never would have given up any opportunity to be with Bowie. Why didn't Caleb tell me?"

Ares: "I figured it was too much for him? But now... I, actually, don't know. He's a cryptic man, that one."

Gunnar: "Well, thank you.... And sorry I was so hostile towards you in the car."

Ares: "You don't need to apologize. I understand why you feel the way you do. I should be apologizing to you. But I know it'll do no good at this point."

Gunnar looked back at the urn. He handed it to Ares. Ares pushed it back gently into his hands. "Dad wanted to be with you and Bowie. I agreed to Caleb that I would bring him to you."

Gunnar lost it again in a flood of tears. "Bowie is going to be so upset.... How do I explain to a toddler the Gampy isn't coming back?"

Ares' eyes grow wide and they brim with more tears. She put her hand over her mouth. "That's what he called Dad? Oh, my Watcher..."

Gunnar looked at Ares. He could see the sudden realization she was having. "You would love him, Ares. He's so much like you."

Ares: "I bet he's a real charmer. Just like his momma." Ares shocked herself with that statement.

It shocked Gunnar as well. "Mo...momma?"

Ares backpedaled: "ah.... Heh.... Not what I meant."

Neither of them noticed how close they were getting but Ares definitely brought them back to reality with her normal dodgy ways. They both decided to get Ares up to her room for the night.

The room.... Had character. It was definitely not a 5 star hotel. But it would have to do. Gunnar brought all of Ares stuff up to her room but this time Ares insisted on helping him. He just would not let her.

Once in the room, they sat on the bed for a few minutes.

Gunnar showed her how to work the TV and warned her about taking a shower. "Personally, I wouldn't. You can use mine if you want. Just let me know when you want to. I'll send Bowie over to the neighbors."

Ares: "Thank you, Gunnar."

Gunnar: "yeah. No problem."

They looked at each other. Then as suddenly as it had happened before.....

They kissed. Gunnar pulled away first. Shocked at what had just happened. Ares was also in disbelief. She sat their frozen, hand to her mouth. Gunnar got up off of the bed. He looked like he had seen a ghost. "S....sorry". Ares was still frozen. She slowly looked at Gunnar. Her heart raced. Gunnar looked into her eyes. His heart raced. "I want you so bad...." Ares got up to put her arms around his neck "Me too...." They started kissing each other while they stripped off their clothes. Gunnar laid Ares on the bed and kissed her all over. "I've missed you so much." Ares moaned. "I've missed you, too."

Ares was not very faithful that night. She just added a whole new problem to her list.

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 2 years

Text

Superheroes with Secrets: Nadolig Llawen (Fic Part 172. Set in 2001)

Around 2000 Words. 18+ in places. Please inform me if you wish to be tagged/untagged from posts.

Tags: @tantamount-treason @piratewithvigor @thedollmaker16

Reference Posts: ‘Giantess’/‘Blacklight Bandit’ Kirby Roussimoff x Shane ’Hurricane’ Helms (Circa 2001)

"I'll call you, sweetheart, I promise."

"Thank you, mon mari." Kirby whispers as she kisses his forehead and heads off.

He finishes his stack of pancakes as their guests begin walking in one by one.

"Shane, where's Kirby?" Shannon asks gently.

"Calling her family, wishing them merry Christmas."

"She's gonna be away for a couple hours then? Calling literally everyone in wrestling?" Shannon chuckles.

"Almost definitely."

"You two now taking things easier on yourselves?"

"Trying to. We had a chat last night and another this morning and I came to two very important conclusions."

"Which are?"

"Firstly, that I need to break the pattern my parents set. That I need to find the middle ground between overprotective and ignoring so Lilith doesn't grow up to resent me. Secondly, I need to be around to see her grow up. I want to watch her grow into her own person and I can't do that if I keel over from a heart attack six years from now."

"See, don't be like your parents and kick her out because of something that isn't her fault, too."

"I could never do that."

"I know, bud. If Kirby knows anything about you, it's that you're a good man, right. Did you tell her about your insecurities over how manly you are yet?"

"Vaguely. Didn't go into too much detail, but she assured me through a lot of it."

"So, what did you get her for Christmas, seeing as you can't call your baby a Christmas miracle."

"I found a couple of things for her, but only one that I'm really banking on her loving."

Kirby comes back downstairs, immediately going up to Helms and hugging him from behind, "everyone's busy, literally everyone is busy." She whispers against his neck.

"Well, they do all live on the west coast. Three hours behind us." He murmurs.

"Hi Shannon."

"Hey Kirby, How's the baby?"

"The baby is good, right mon mari? Lilith is being a little angel at the moment." Kirby murmurs, hiding her face in Helms' neck.

"She's being perfect. Just like her Mama."

"Why are you trying to hide behind Shane, Kirby?"

"He's my husband and he's snuggly, and I didn't expect guests so soon." She murmurs.

"It's true. I'm warm and soft." Helms grins.

"Like pancakes." Kirby adds.

"I thought you were the pancakes." He grins.

"Chocolate mousse is only warm when it's lava cake chocolate mousse."

"mmm that sounds good."

"Lava cake is nice. Have you ever been lava sledding?" Kirby asks gently.

"Never and I need to."

"It's fun, I should suggest to Rikishi that the next family gathering be in Hawaii so we can bring you into the culture we grew up in."

"I'd like that a lot."

"So, uhm, who are our guests because you didn't tell me who was coming over today."

"Just the Hardys and their girls. They spent the night and morning with their Ma, and they'll be over later."

"Ah, has Scott called the house yet, he and Kev are supposed to be coming 'round at some point but he never said when."

"Not yet, but I'm sure they're having a celebration too."

"I love you, mon mari… you're very handsome and sweet and caring, and I love you so much."

"Sweet talker, I love you too."

"Presents now?"

"Yes please."

"Hey Shane, I'll race you to the tv room." Shannon teases.

"You're on, motherfucker!" He grins, racing from the kitchen.

Kirby shakes her head as she watches Shannon attempt to keep up with Helms, "Jesus, boys."

"He comes over and all of a sudden, I'm eleven again."

"Yeah, and I go into Mama bear mode and worry you'll hurt yourself." Kirby murmurs as she follows the boys to the tv room.

"We're professional wrestlers. We can handle racing fifty feet."

"One slip, and you will go straight into a wall, mon ange, don't want to have an accident."

"I know, my love. But we're safe. We're fine, and I won."

"Your prize for winning is your wife." Shannon chuckles.

"His prize for being such a good man, is me, every single day and any time he wants to rock my world." Kirby whispers as she kisses his jawline and neck.

His cheeks go a little pink, "makes me the luckiest guy in the world."

"Only man in the world good enough to make a Roussimoff want to take his last name."

He goes even more pink, "thank you."

"You're welcome, mon mari, I owe you my life because you are my life."

"You're mine."

"Kirby, how much of a miracle is Lilith?" Shannon asks gently.

"Uhm, very much a miracle, I was under the assumption that I was unable to have kids, Shane proved me wrong."

"Got the magic sperms." He grins.

"As long as you only use that magic on me, mon amour. Don't need you finding a way to get Shannon pregnant." Kirby jokes.

"If I could, it would have happened years ago." He laughs.

Kirby chuckles, burying her face in Helms' neck as Shannon gives them a look of 'you idiots'.

"You know I'm not wrong."

"You're not wrong, but you're both laughing at a super dumb joke."

"Shush, enjoy the moment, it is Christmas." Kirby murmurs through giggles.

"It is. First good Christmas since… hell, since before my voice dropped."

"First Christmas for me since dad… well, ya know."

"Well… don't say that so fast."

"What do you mean by that, mon amour?"

"See the little silver one on the left?" He points out a package under the tree.

"Yeah." She nods.

"Open it."

Kirby picks up the present, sitting next to Helms and carefully opening it. Inside is a little snow globe. Personalized. The background is a picture Helms dug up from the photo albums. He wasn't certain of the accuracy, but the back of the picture he said 'first hug' and featured a very very young Kirby being twirled around in a big hug by André, like it was her first time coming to Ellerbe as his official daughter.

"Oh mon dieu, Shane, it's perfect." Kirby whispers as she holds the snow globe extremely gently in her hands.

"I'm glad you like it." He smiles softly.

"I don't just like it, I love it, now I feel bad about some of the gifts I got you."

"No. Not allowed to do that. We forbid being stressed anymore, remember?"

"I remember, I just, I struggled to find you gifts," Kirby pauses, feeling a small kick from Lilith, "you don't count as a gift, Lilith, don't kick me."

Helms rubs her belly softly, "you're a gift to me. You both are."

"She's not a gift, she's a miracle." Kirby whispers.

"Can't she be both?"

"Fine, she's both a gift and a miracle. Why don't you choose which gift gets opened next, mon ange."

"Well, I don't have a ton, but Shannon, open the red one with the gold ribbon."

Shannon nods, ripping off the wrapping paper and accidentally hitting himself in the forehead in the process. Helms has to restrain from laughing as he watches Shannon open the box and pull out a single earring. It's a fairly long dangly one, with silver links holding together three tiny green rubber circles from the hook. They may be small, but there's no doubt they're cut from the Three Count green circles.

"Oh shit, you didn't." Shannon chuckles.

"What did you get him, mon ange? Oh, oh I know what that's a reference to, oh you cheeky little beastie, Shane." Kirby murmurs through giggles.

"Kept my circle, figured it needed a new use. Besides, you don't get a matching set until you get your other ear pierced, you goof."

"I'm not doing what Kirby did and get several piercings within a few weeks of each other."

"Coward." Kirby murmurs.

"If he just wants to show off his liking of men by having only one ear pierced, that's up to him."

"Kirby, can Delilah do piercings?"

"She's fully trained as both a tattoo artist and body piercer, of course she can do piercings."

"You thinking of a Christmas piercing?"

"If it'll shut you up, yes… if it'll shut Kirby up I'll get my nipples pierced too."

Kirby smirks, stifling a laugh "I can't wait to see that happen."

"Be careful of that. Remember when I did mine?"

Shannon pouts, "yeah, I remember."

"Did I ever mention that Delilah pierced her own nipples?"

"Jeff's gotta be pleased."

"She also was the person who split my tongue both times." Kirby whispers as she snuggles into Helms' arm.

"Mmm, like a viper."

"Snakey wife, mon mari."

"Can't hardly imagine that."

"I think it's why my tongue is sensitive along the scar."

"I'd have to guess so."

"Anyway, which gift next?"

"Well, I've got another one that's really special for Kirby."

"Ooh, Shane." Kirby whispers, hugging Helms and kissing his neck.

"It's the tiny gold wrapped one on top."

Kirby picks up the tiny present, it looks even smaller than it is in her hands, she opens it as carefully as possible. Inside is a little heart-shaped locket. Helms reaches over and snaps the charm undone, showing a tiny image of Lilith's first ultrasound picture in one half and the other empty.

"The other side is for her first baby picture." He explains.

Kirby buries her face in her hands, letting a few happy tears slip and trying to remain calm.

"You okay?"

"I'm okay, I'm just… so, so happy." Kirby whispers.

"You like it?"

"I love it, I love you too, it's so perfect."

"I love you too, honey."

"Shane, you see that dark green box, the small one, next to the tree trunk, that's one of yours."

He picks it up and unwraps it carefully.

Inside the box is a green visor, not too dissimilar from Bret's sunglasses, but neon green and made to fit Helms' face.

His eyes light up excitedly, "cool!"

"I know we talked about the whole 'what if you ever stop being the Hurricane' thing, but ya know I couldn't resist."

"Sweetheart, these are beautiful."

"I got the design from Bret and sent some ideas to Kealani, so technically this is from me, Kealani and Bret Hart."

"Then thank you to all three of you."

"There's some more things that go along with that one, but you must guess which ones they are."

"I'll do my best to find them."

"Which presents are next?"

"Any one you want."

"Ooh, Shane, open the big black box, it's from Mark for you."

"From Mark?"

"Yeah, I told Mark, as in Undertaker, not Henry Godwin, that you like bikes, so he got you something, open the box, cause it's mega heavy."

"That's really sweet of him." He smiles, finding the box and opening it.

Inside the box is a handcrafted motorcycle coffee table, very obviously something Undertaker would have in his own home.

"Holy shit…" he whispers, awestruck by the details.

"Oh wow, I now see why it was so heavy." Kirby murmurs.

"So do I."

"Uhm, what other ones are yours, if they are green, they are yours."

"There's a handful."

"Choose any of them, and I promise you will be pleasantly surprised."

"I trust you on that."

"Go on, pick one, mon mari."

He picks up a smaller package.

"Ooh, that's one's a good one." Kirby murmurs, trying to keep quiet.

"Should I try and guess?"

Yeah."

"More hair dye?" He grins.

"Nope, guess again."

"Key chain?"

"Still nope." Kirby smirks

"C'mon, can I just open it?"

"You may open it, I'm not going to stop you."

He opens it and goes bright red, "Oh my…"

"Do you like?" Kirby purrs.

"I love it."

"You wanna make use of it now or later?"

"That depends… how do you feel about including him if you want to."

"I wouldn't mind including him if you want to."

"I just think he'd look so pretty in this."

Kirby hands Shane another gift, "these will also look good on him. Open it."

#superheroes with secrets #shane hurricane helms #kirby roussimoff #blacklight bandit #orange and green - the perfect team #shannon brian moore #sws #kirby andrea roussimoff #delilah keshet rosenbaum #gregory shane helms #jeffrey nero hardy #matthew moore hardy #lita hardy

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glimmerglanger · 2 years

Note

Okay, I must know: is there any fallout in the main Fett household over the eldest Fett child getting dip-kissed on national television? How'd the parents take it? How'd the SIBLINGS take it? The ones who don't know yet, that is...

ADI!! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS!! (You do, I screamed at you about it a lot). WELL. Now you can see what I was screaming about.

This is set almost IMMEDIEATELY after the Coda and goes from there. Implication of spicy but nothing happens on screen. All warnings for the main fic still apply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They didn’t really sleep, the night they won the World Series.

There were too many parties and celebrations for that. They’d been swept off the field, eventually, to an event center rented - apparently - on the chance they won, decked out with their team colors and full of cheering people and already smelling of champagne.

They’d had time for a quick shower, first, and his hair was still wet by the time they reached the celebration.

Some of his family had been there, but, based on the voicemails he’d gotten - Ben had listened to them for him and shook his head as Cody heard distant shouting, muffled - he’d known some people would be missing.

He’d expected it, but it still hurt, walking into a room and finding his parents, Boba, and Omen missing.

“Congratulations, man,” Rex said, when he made his way through the crowd, pulling Cody into a hug. “And I’m sorry about--our parents.”

Cody shrugged. What else could he do? It was hardly a surprise. He’d spent a few years trying to nudge their parents towards a more understanding place, but they’d already mostly cut contact with him over his decision to room with Ben.

He’d almost come to blows with his father over the way Jango referred to Ben, apparently unable to use his name, not when there were so many slurs right there waiting. They hadn’t really spoken more than a few words to each other since then, but Cody--

Had wanted his family at the game, had wanted to share the moment with them, and they’d taken the tickets when he sent them, attended each game in the series, even though it meant Boba and Omen missed some school.

“It’s alright,” Cody said, because he’d made his peace with it, and he wasn’t sorry about kissing Ben, wasn’t sorry about the swooping memory of being kissed, or proposing or--

Boil and Waxer made it through the crowd, then, hitting him like a wave, all hugs and backslaps and shouting. It was--a relief, that at least they were happy for him.

They’d already known about him and Ben, though, figuring it out on their own during one of their summer-time visits to Cody’s place after they moved out; his parents had refused to let any of his younger siblings come visit, like they were afraid that Ben’s sexuality was catching, or something.

Cody shook that thought aside, held onto his brothers, and relished what he had.

Eventually, the party spilled out onto the streets and across town and up into their hotel room, shrinking to encompass just the two of them. They fell together on the huge bed in the room - someone had gotten their things moved to the Honeymoon Suite - and made love with the drapes flung wide open and the sunrise coming in behind Ben’s shoulders.

After, Ben flopped down beside him, still breathing hard, and asked, after taking a sweet kiss, “Are we going to hyphenate?”

“What?” Cody asked, starting to feel the exhaustion that had been lurking behind the sweet adrenaline for the past…well, nearly twelve hours.

“Our last names?” Ben asked, grinning at him.

Warmth spread out all through him in a rush and he opened his mouth, not sure what he planned to say, before his phone started buzzing on the nightstand. He groaned, rolling to get it with a pang of regret.

It was one of his aunts. He thought about not answering, but, well.

Better to get it over with quickly.

The call didn’t last very long. When it was over, Ben handed him a cup of water, and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Their choice,” Cody said, taking a long drink and flopping back onto the mattress. “You want to try to sleep for a few hours?”

When he woke up, he had…a lot of texts. He ended up blocking a lot of the numbers, watching his connections to his extended family shrink and shrink.

Not all of them were bad. In fact, more than he’d thought were…supportive. Congratulations, both for the win and for his relationship. He wondered how many of them meant it, how many of them were only trying to maintain a good relationship with his money.

He did find one from Bly - currently overseas on a trip he’d begged to take - that just said: so, ben’s off the market, then?

He sent back, taking a sip of his coffee and hoping it helped with his headache: I will hit you with a bat.

I’ll take care of him while ur in jail for battery, Bly sent back, only seconds later, and then, right away, congrats man glad he’s finally going to make an honest man out of you can i stop pretending i don’t know that you’re super in love now?

Yeah, Cody sent, his heart doing something odd in his chest, go ahead, you have my permission.

Cool, Bly sent, we’ll celebrate when i get back.

“How’s it shaking out?” Ben said, coming out of the bathroom and toweling at his hair, stark naked in a way that made Cody mourn the days when he thought a hangover was a faint pain in his head and a little queasiness.

“As expected,” Cody said, and Ben winced on his behalf, coming over and leaning down to hug him from behind, body radiating warmth from the shower. “I’ve heard from most of my brothers, though,” he added, exhaling, “And they’re all--hold on.”

He murmured the last as his phone started ringing, Omen’s number popping up, which meant Boba was probably there, too. Ben stepped away, moving to his suitcase to grab clothes as Cody answered and said, the words having become near automatic, “Morning, listen, if this is to--”

“Cody,” Omen said, over the line, voice wavering through the interruption, and Cody tensed down his spine, because he knew all the tones used by his siblings and this one was full of worry. Before he could ask what was wrong, Omen blurted, over the line, “I’m a girl.”

Cody blinked, opened his mouth, and then--she started crying, terrible, choking, hitching sobs over the phone line.

“It’s alright,” he said, because--it seemed the more important thing to get out of the way. “Hey, that’s, Omen, that’s--”

She started crying harder, and Cody stood up, feeling--unsure what the fuck he was supposed to do to make it better. He had no idea where she even was, probably down in Texas, again, that was where the family had moved last and--

Abruptly, the crying stopped on the other side of the line, and, a moment later, Boba said, “She doesn’t like that name. You could--if you could call her Meg?”

“Of course,” Cody said, automatic, trying to process everything quickly enough through the haze of his hangover. “Meg--that’s. Tell her that’s--a very pretty name. And that I’m sorry--I didn’t know, I--”

“It’s ok,” Boba said, not sounding pissed about it, which was something. Ben came to stand beside him, an arm curled around his back. Cody reached out, blindly, and took Ben’s hand, getting a comforting squeeze right away.

“Listen,” Boba went on, quietly, “we, uh. Dad and Mom. They were both. Really angry. After the game and--all the way home on the plane and--they were saying--stuff about you. And Ben. And--Meg--she got angry and told them. About her, and--”

Cody flinched, because he’d taken - in a way - the coward’s path. He’d come out on national television and there was something horrifying about it, but it had also been far away from his family. “Is she okay?” he asked, panic lashing into his gut. “Are you okay? What’s--”

“We’re fine,” Boba said. “We’re--they said they were going to send her--somewhere, so we left. I went with her.” Of course he had. Boba had always been ready to start a fight on--her behalf. “We’re at - at one of my friends’ houses. Fennec. Her parents say we can stay for a while. But, uh, I don’t know--we don’t know what to do, now, and we thought--”

“I’m coming to get you,” Cody said, because what else could he say? Ben already had his phone in hand, looking up airlines because he was the best--

“Yeah?” Boba asked, and his voice wavered, some of the surety going out of his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” Cody told him, Ben tilting his phone so Cody could see with an arch of an eyebrow. Cody nodded and watched Ben put two tickets in the cart. “Send me your friend’s address. And - and tell Meg it’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.”

He looked over at Ben, again, when Boba hung up the phone, saying he needed to go check on Meg.

Ben paused in the middle of pulling clothes on, just watching him, and Cody blurted, still feeling as though he’d caught a pitch in the side of the head, “I have a sister.”

He’d always wanted one.

“Congratulations,” Ben told him, gently, and then, just as softly, “get dressed so we can go make sure she’s okay.”

Cody worried, extensively, through the drive to the airport and the plane ride to Texas. They weren’t, comparatively, that far away, which was some small measure of relief. They had a car waiting when they landed - Ben had arranged it, at some point, just taking care of the details - and Cody bounced his leg up and down the entire drive across town, holding onto Ben’s hand.

The house they arrived at seemed nice enough. Two stories. Stucco. Scrub grass around the yard--

Cody walked up the pathway to the door with his pulse beating against his ears. He’d been worried, through their trip, about his parents finding this place first and doing--something. Causing trouble, somehow.

But he didn’t recognize the other vehicles in the driveway, and Boba had sent no worried texts or calls for help. He stood on the front porch - there were a few planters full of succulents around and a large swing to one side with red pillows covered in embroidered flowers piled on it, and Ben put a hand on his back, and said, “Breathe.”

Cody sucked in a breath and let it out slowly through his mouth. He raised his hand and, drawing in another breath, rang the doorbell.

“What if--” he started, and then the door opened.

Boba stood on the other side, pretty much as tall as Cody these days, with a mop of dark curls and a tight expression around his eyes that eased a little as he pulled the door wider. Boba jerked forward, squeezing him in a tight hug, and then saying--

Something.

The words buzzed together, but Boba drew them inside, anyway, down the hall to a brightly lit kitchen where--

Meg was rising from a chair, smoothing down the front of the--flowing, billowy skirt she was wearing, white fabric with brightly colored flowers around the hem. She’d apparently bleached her hair out - it was a darker golden color than Rex kept his - and stood there with her hands clenched in front of her stomach, wearing a blouse and a little wrap around her shoulders, eyes darting up to meet his and then away again.

“Are you okay?” Cody asked, the first thing that occurred to him, and she made a hiccuping sound that turned into tears, time freezing into place for a terrible instant before she lurched forward and took two stumbling steps to fall into him.

“Sh,” he said, feeling inane, aware of Boba and Ben both lingering close by as he curled an arm around her shoulders and then the other. “It’s alright,” he said, because he was going to make sure it was okay, he’d--they had the money to--to take her and Boba in, and if his parents didn’t like it, well, he had the money to fight it in court and--

“You’re not mad?” she gasped, after a moment, from near his shoulder.

“Of course not,” he told her, because how could he ever be mad at her or--

She started crying harder, and he looked around desperately for some help. Ben was on the phone in the corner, talking fast and quietly, no doubt figuring out more about what they needed to do next, and Boba stepped closer and just leaned against them, hugging them as well.

“It’s alright,” Cody told them both and meant it.

#my writing #bush league snippets #bush league #the baseball au #i had so many feelings about this and worried i'd never get there with meg but!#in the end #it did get there

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