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fringe_kinkmemeThis is a kinkmeme. You may just be familiar with the concept.
If not: explicit, adult content; read at your own risk, and keep the kids -- wherever that arbitrary line is in your jurisdiction -- out. Also, please wear your seatbelt.
RULES
1. When prompting, use the comment field to jot down character, pairing, or moresome first, then the kink(s), then any other prompt elements; after a line break, you can elaborate via words, images, or links. Like so?
2. When responding, use the subject line for the original prompt (plus your title, if you have one).
3. All kinks are welcome -- sexual, emotional, conceptual, likewise all gen, het, slash, bitextual and other fic from crack to drama.
4. Anon is encouraged but up to you.
5. Mark all spoilers, mmkay?
6. Go for it!
REMINDERS
7. With a view to some prompts: Spell Check is your BFF. Don't make Alt!Astrid cry, please?
8. A kinkmeme's more than a promptmeme. Here'seliade's non-definitive and non-exhaustive (but pretty illustrative) List of Fan-fiction Kinks, Tropes, Clichés, and Fetishes.
9. Could you -- in the subject line or the first line of the body of text -- draw attention to the fact there's rape or non-con, major character death, underage, and/or graphic violence in your response (which is the Archive Of Our Own (AO3) policy).
If not: explicit, adult content; read at your own risk, and keep the kids -- wherever that arbitrary line is in your jurisdiction -- out. Also, please wear your seatbelt.
RULES
1. When prompting, use the comment field to jot down character, pairing, or moresome first, then the kink(s), then any other prompt elements; after a line break, you can elaborate via words, images, or links. Like so?
2. When responding, use the subject line for the original prompt (plus your title, if you have one).
3. All kinks are welcome -- sexual, emotional, conceptual, likewise all gen, het, slash, bitextual and other fic from crack to drama.
4. Anon is encouraged but up to you.
5. Mark all spoilers, mmkay?
6. Go for it!
REMINDERS
7. With a view to some prompts: Spell Check is your BFF. Don't make Alt!Astrid cry, please?
8. A kinkmeme's more than a promptmeme. Here's
eliade's non-definitive and non-exhaustive (but pretty illustrative) List of Fan-fiction Kinks, Tropes, Clichés, and Fetishes.9. Could you -- in the subject line or the first line of the body of text -- draw attention to the fact there's rape or non-con, major character death, underage, and/or graphic violence in your response (which is the Archive Of Our Own (AO3) policy).
Peter/OH Lincoln
Date: 2011-05-23 03:17 pm (UTC)Re: Peter/OH Lincoln
Date: 2011-05-23 10:55 pm (UTC)Re: Peter/OH Lincoln
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Date: 2011-05-23 03:26 pm (UTC)olivia/lincoln
Date: 2011-05-23 10:49 pm (UTC)Re: olivia/lincoln
Date: 2011-05-23 10:56 pm (UTC)Re: olivia/lincoln
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-06-11 04:49 am (UTC) - ExpandThree's a tangle
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-06-27 03:44 pm (UTC) - ExpandThree's a tangle - um, epilogue? Written on request.
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-07-30 02:23 am (UTC) - Expandblue astrid/red lincoln
Date: 2011-05-24 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-25 09:25 am (UTC)Post-Marionette. “She’s taken everything.” Sam is one of the only things Fauxlivia didn't take from her.
Peter/Blue Lincoln
Date: 2011-05-25 11:50 am (UTC)Peter/Astrid
Date: 2011-05-25 11:57 am (UTC)Astid never found stubble attractive until she met Peter.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-25 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-02 09:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2011-05-28 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-30 12:55 am (UTC)Peter/Lincoln: This Charming Man (1/2)
Date: 2011-06-08 11:13 am (UTC)The streets of New York were pretty much the same, aside from small differences he could barely register. Peter found a bar that seemed hidden in a dark alley and the loud music coming out of it sounded just exactly what he needed to drawn his brain.
The bar was crowded with people and smoke, loud laughter and muffled music coming out of the speakers. Peter sat on a stool by the counter, within the bartender sight so he wouldn’t stop hitting him with drinks. It was like a regular sports bar, with neon lights and beer ads, TV airing a hockey match, the smell of alcohol impregnating the atmosphere and loud talking behind him, as he turned on the stool to stare at the screen for a moment.
It didn’t take him long though to realize that it wasn’t a regular sports bar, when he realized the lack of women in the place and the flirtatious atmosphere surrounding him. Now that was something he would never have guessed, for the great majority of men there seemed too heterosexual or too interested in the match on the TV to be pursuing a date for the night. Peter shrugged, turning to his whiskey, swallowing it in one fast turn of his glass. He motioned to the bartender, who filled his glass with another shot.
He was the first thing he saw when he turned his head to see the regulars. Lincoln was sitting on a small table for two, in the middle of the bar, one hand in the pocket of his coat, a relaxed expression on his face while he drank his own shot of tequila. His lips curled into a small smile when he realized Peter’s gaze, which he held until the other man turned back on the stool and to his drink. Maybe five was his limit, he thought, staring back at the empty glasses in front of him.
Or maybe he stared at the stranger for too long, he thought, when Lincoln walked to him and the next thing he knows he is on the stool next to him, smiling and introducing himself. He was a fine-looking man, the dimples forming on his cheeks as he smiled drawn Peter’s attention from his stubble. Lincoln was talking something about the bar, the whiskey, he wasn’t sure because for a moment he got lost in images of him pressing against the younger man, in a bathroom stall.
The last dose of tequila Peter remembered taking went oddly smooth down his throat. He was in that haze stage of drunkenness, where one actually is aware of what is going but can’t really control it. He heard Lincoln talking to him and he heard himself responding but what happened next he honestly wasn’t expecting.
Lincoln laid his hand over Peter’s and caressed it slowly, the rough texture of his palm sending tiny shivers of excitement up his spine. Peter felt his body flush in response to him and didn’t think much before using said hand to pull Lincoln closer to him for a kiss.
Their lips met harshly, clashing together, stubble against stubble. Peter let his hand slide up to hold Lincoln by the base of his neck, pressing him closer, as the other wrapped around his waist, squeezing at his flesh through the fabric of his jacket. They kissed hungrily for a couple minutes, Peter groaning against the rough texture of the younger man’s tongue, as it rolled firmly against his own.
Lincoln pulled away from the kiss, face flushed, gasping for air. A smile lightened up his face, his red lips turning upwards. Peter smiled along with him.
“Wow, that was…”
“Unexpected?”
Lincoln laughed, the sound bright and crystalline in the noisy bar.
“I was going to say hot. I was kinda expecting you would react that way.”
Peter raised an eyebrow, stopping the soft rubbing he was doing on Lincoln’s shoulder.
“Excuse me? Pretentious much?”
Lincoln closed the distance and kissed him again, softer this time. He let Peter’s lips wander down his chin, leaving a wet track to his neck, where he bit him lightly, scratching his skin with his stubble. Lincoln hissed, pressing against him.
“Let’s get out of here, Peter,” he groaned against Peter’s ear and missed the other man’s smirk.
* * *
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-10-12 09:40 am (UTC) - Expandred olivia/blue rachel/red lincoln
Date: 2011-06-03 04:45 am (UTC)rachel/frank
Date: 2011-06-03 04:52 am (UTC)walter/red marilyn,olivia
Date: 2011-06-03 05:45 am (UTC)Re: walter/red marilyn,olivia
Date: 2011-06-24 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 05:19 pm (UTC)One of them is angry with the other for some reason. Takes out the frustration on the offending party while in bed.
Hey Jealousy
Date: 2011-06-07 05:10 am (UTC)He grumbles to himself:
*Can't tell me that I can't go on an operation with my girlfriend. That my status as a civilian make me a liability. Us being split apart is THE liability…*
He watches Olivia and Lincoln Lee like a hawk while nursing the house-special beer. He had considered some good Kentucky bourbon, maybe some Maker's Mark, but he wanted to be sharp-witted in case anything went wrong with the sting operation. Becoming inebriated would defeat the purpose. He'd protect Olivia if she needed him. He does not trust the other agent to have her back if shit got real.
Broyles is wanting to permanently transfer Agent Lee to Fringe Division. He is testing him with Olivia on a normal terrorism operation before immersing him totally into the "Freak Show." On one hand, Peter likes the idea. But on the other… it makes him nervous…
Olivia is laughing at one of Lee's ridiculous jokes. Peter has been friends with the other agent for a few weeks now, and yes, he finds the man humorous. Peter has grown to like Lee as a brother he should have had. They just click on so many levels. But even siblings feel jealousy, especially over romantic partners. Peter had observed this first-hand from Olivia's dealings with her sister Rachel when she had showed interest in him. Peter had enjoyed seeing Olivia jealous.
*Now Peter, Karma is a real nasty bitch…*
Olivia swings around onto Lincoln's lap and sways her hips into his. Peter about spits his beer out all over the place. Cursing, he downs the rest and orders a much taller glass. Olivia is kissing all up and down Lee's neck and lips, and he moves to caress her back.
*If he goes for her breasts, I'm gonna punt him into the fucking harbor…*
Watching her tease Lee has left Peter even more angry about being told he had to stay behind, and stranger still, it makes him horny as a goat. And he can't do a damned thing about it but squirm and curse his selection of skin-tight jeans.
---------------------------------------------------------
Lincoln sees what appears to be Peter Bishop at the jukebox in the very back of the bar, and he freezes. He has studied and admired the man's form so much that he knows for sure it is him. Peter looks back toward the bar and his eyes lock with Lincoln's. But he just calmly walks back and sits down at his table, nodding his head to some Dave Matthews Band song.
"Oh, shit…"
Olivia is still sitting on Lincoln's lap her back turned to Peter. She whispers to him, "What, are they here? Do I need my gun?
Lincoln is beat-red and sweating. "Umm… no… Peet.. Your boyfriend is here, and he's giving me a demonic death glare …"
Olivia had hoped that he wouldn't notice Peter's presence. She whispers back, "Just stay calm, Agent Lee. I know he followed us. Peter is as stubborn as a mule. He's your friend, and he knows this is all just part of the sting-op."
Lincoln swallows hard and starts to talk, but finds it difficult to do so without squeaking. Then he finds his courage. "Is it really, Agent Dunham? Because if I didn't think so highly of your abilities as an agent, I'd swear that you are trying to make him jealous. And knowing what I know of that man's past, I REALLY do not want to piss him off."
"Wait… what do you know of Peter?" Olivia was suddenly threatened. First, she didn't like her professionalism questioned. Second, she didn't like people making character judgments about Peter based solely on his past. Third, she'd never admit that the second sometimes did wreck the first.
"It's OK, Dunham. He has talked to me. He told me that he was involved in a lot of things that didn't make him proud. I was able to…umm… use some connections to find out specifics since his real file is highly classified. I know he is a changed man, but some things do stay with a person. They are fundamental. You have no idea what Peter Bishop is capable of doing. " Lee's eyes light up and his lips give a smile of admiration, "The man is a perfect wild-card."
Olivia glances back at Peter, and her face turns into the most disapproving Dunham-scowl he's ever seen.
*Fuck yeah, be mad at me.*
Peter gives his most charming grin from a long repertoire of his charismatic tricks, then proceeds to finish off his tall beer.
-------------------------------------------------------------
The sting is a bust. The marks were tipped off and never arrived. Broyles is really upset and giving Olivia an earful when Peter ambles up to her and Lee. Lee took a step back, not sure of Peter's intentions. Peter smiles and says, "Maybe next time, Agent Lee. You may get Fringe Division assigned yet."
He sees Lincoln shake. Good. "So… about Olivia.. I didn't mean anything by it, you know, Peter?" Lincoln looked into Peter's eyes, looking for any sign of forgiveness. He thinks: God the man has beautiful eyes.
"No harm done, Linc. I understand. Olivia has the vagenda…"
"Vagenda?" Lincoln raises his eyebrows as he queries.
"Heh, never mind. I'll talk to you later, bud," Peter shakes Lincoln's hand and the man departs just as Olivia was getting off the cell phone call with Broyles.
"I need to go to the lab and file some information. You're coming with me, Peter."
----------------------------------------------------
"I'm not just mad, Olivia. I fucking pissed-off! Letting you go into a very dangerous situation with an unknown field agent? What the Hell was Broyles thinking?"
"Well, given Broyles has spent most of his life in the service of this country in some capacity, I'd say that his assessment of Lee being the boon and you the liability should not be questioned!" Olivia was absolutely livid and now screaming at Peter. "Who made you MY babysitter! I did fine without you tagging along, and I can still handle myself while you hold down the fort, Peter!"
She pushes Peter, with both of her hands. It cathes him off guard, and she gasps.
"Oh, so you want to get physical now. I was perfectly happy using just angry words." Peter shoves her into the wall and she shoves him back. Then Olivia trips him using a FBI taught technique, but he pulls her to the floor with him.
They square-off for dominance, and all the while she feels Peter stiffen against her. She grinds into him teasing him, calling him names that would be appropriate for his con-man past. "Why you fucking bastard! Leave it to a man to get a fucking hard-on when he's angry!"
"Shut-up, Sweetheart." He forces her into a lip lock with him, then both have it out with their tongues. Peter is surprised by her reciprocation. Both of them are sweaty and running their hands through each others hair.
"I'm going to fuck you hard, right here on the damned lab floor so that you won't forget who the real man is."
"Bring it on, bad boy," Olivia retorts, wanting to see just how far over the edge Peter has gone.
Peter straddles her as she stares at him with challenging eyes, breasts heaving with each heavy breath, her lungs seeking oxygen from the exertion of her struggle with him. Peter takes one of his hands and roughly pushes her skirt up, cursing the fact that she has panties on, but grateful they were there when she was teasing Lincoln earlier. He shoves her shirt up, then maneuvers her bra over the top of her breasts, which pop out, free for his attention. He lavishes them with his tongue and mouth, sucking and grazing them with his teeth, as he dry humps himself into Olivia. Olivia tosses her head to the side, trying to quell any sounds of approval.
"You're going to remember this so that next time you think of messing with my head or heart, you won't even have the desire. Unless you like it when I fuck you raw."
"You wouldn't dare hurt me," Olivia hisses as she mocks him.
He then undoes his belt and zipper. This allows his jeans to be pushed down far enough to free his strained and achingly hard cock from it's restrictive imprisonment. It juts out with force as Peter sighs from relief, then he growls low from the bottom of his throat. He pulls her legs apart and rams himself into Olivia's soft center with no further preparation or warning.
Olivia moans out a cry that sounds hurt, but also approving. Peter holds still. As much as he wants to pound into her, he knows that if he does, he'll explode in two seconds. He wants this to be a lasting lesson.
He pulls back, but instead of his normal routine of initial gentle thrusts, he pushes into her with a hard pump of his hips and she whimpers. He continues the slow, forceful thrusts, deliberately and methodically going as deep as he can bury himself in Olivia's depths. He pushes Olivia's arms above her head as she proceeds to not-so-gently rake her nails down his back, drawing muffled sounds from Peter that sound like he is enjoying the pleasurable tinge of pain. He nips then bites her from shoulders to lower neck and up to her earlobes, marking her as his own. She takes his cue and returns the actions, making him snarl with animalistic approval.
"Yeah, so are you going to forget this, Livia? I can feel you quiver all around my cock. You're not trying to hold back an orgasm are you? Nobody makes you cum like I do, do they Livia?"
Olivia didn't know what to think. It seemed something had taken hold of Peter, that he was not all there. But she was enjoying the rough way he plowed into her. She was on fire and so wound up, that just the right motion would severe the ties that held her back.
Peter pulls out of Olivia, which makes her protest
"Ah, so you aren't that pissed with me after all, Livia? Admit it, you love me rooting into you as far as possible."
"Damn it, sometimes I really hate you, Peter Bishop! If you're going to fuck me, do it, and get it over with!"
"Turn over, on your knees," he directed. Olivia gave him a sneer and then did as he requested, sticking her rear end as far out to him as possible.
He pushes the skirt up over her back and Peter takes a moment to admire her ass. She is lean, but well-rounded. He rubs his hands over her cheeks, then slides the purple silk panties aside. This time he slowly inserts his cock into Olivia, inch by inch until he is buried balls-deep. She sighs at his penetration then bucks into him, and he laughs. Then he gets wild-eyes and grabs her hips.
A switch has been turned on inside Peter.
"Hold On."
Olivia about has the air knocked out of her as Peter assaults her pussy with all he has. He is digging into her flesh and leaning back, putting his full weight into each of his powerful strokes. He has gone feral, muscles flexing and straining. He is grunting and moaning without a care as he nears his climax. Olivia feels like she is going blind it feels so painfully good. They are sweaty and slick, and as such, the lab echoes with sounds of their bodies making repeated contact and that of her breasts slapping together as she rocks with Peter. Olivia is sure that they have moved several feet from where they initially started.
Her orgasm ripples violently through her, and she screams his name over and over. It takes everything he has to keep inside her, as her muscles contract forcefully almost shoving him out. Between all the pleasurable pressure bearing down on his cock and her voice saying "Peter, God" like a prayer, he spills into her, his cum spraying like jets and all thick, voluminous and hot.
He slows down his final strokes as he grows soft, and lowers himself down to her side, Olivia still shuddering from her orgasm. The heat is pouring off in waves from the both of them, and it seems the entire lab has been permeated with the smell of sweat and pheromones.
Then he sees a tear slide down Olivia's face. Peter's anger has been sated with the effective release of tension and sexual endorphins, bringing him back down to Earth.
*Oh Hell, what have I done?*
"Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have sex with the old Peter Bishop. I see he is still in there somewhere. Another case of 'be careful what you wish for,' I guess."
Peter reaches his hand slowly to the side of Olivia's cheek, brushing the tears away with gentle feathery movements. His eyes are also misty now. "I'm sorry that I lost control, Olivia. It was petty of me. I didn't mean to hurt you. Damn it, I love you so much and we've been through a crucible together…"
Olivia presses her lips gently to his and applies the gentlest of suction, kissing him as her soul-mate, not just as a miffed lover. He relaxes against her, but then pulls away and sits up, his eyes searching hers for more understanding.
"Don't worry, Peter. The tears are more for yet another loss of innocence than anything. I guess that we were due some grudge sex at some point, as pent-up as each of can be with emotions sometimes. It would be naïve to think that we'd always have romantic and fluffy sex. You've been fuming for awhile. That passion had to come out one way or another. I guess this is our version of couple's therapy."
"Having an 80 year old, narcissistic, mother-fucking, old mad-scientist inhabit a far-too-many-times-over psychologically abused lover will make a man a bit over protective. I worry about you. I'm afraid that if I'm not by your side, things may get ugly. We seem to do best together."
I knew you were there. I wanted to make you jealous for showing up when you were explicitly told you were not cleared for the assignment."
"You baited me?" Peter looks indignant, yet impressed at the same time.
"Peter, don't be hard on Agent Lee. It's not like he is any threat to you. He's more likely to be attentive to YOUR advances. The man didn't even get hard when I ground myself into him. If I'd done that to you, you would have either creamed your jeans, or bent me over the bar table… You like him right?
"Yeah, he's a good guy. Smart as a whip and funny as hell. But… "
"His alternate is a Fringe Division Captain on the other side. Heck, he may be their Commander now. He was very tenacious when it came to the welfare and protection of his team. I don't expect that our Lee may be any different in that regard. Who knows, he might even save your ass one day."
"Well, if our suspicions are correct, that's probably not all he wants to do with my ass, Peter quipped with a silly grin.
"Aww… but Peter, you make such a cuddly, angry teddy bear."
"Better watch out, Livia, or I'll make Agent Lee's fantasies come true and see how jealous you get."
"Jealous? Peter, honey, I'd probably join you."
Peter has all kinds of thoughts going through his head, none of them chaste. "Dunham, you still surprise me."
"On the other hand, you'd split the poor fella in two. Giving new meaning to my prior name for you: "Massive Pain-in-the-Ass."
Peter chuckles at this, "Oh really? You called me that? Well, let it be known that I had my own names for you and they sure as Hell weren't "Sweetheart." I think I even used the old Viking word for female genitalia…"
"You know that I would rack your genitalia if you ever used the word for me now," Olivia said, showing no joking or amusement on her face.
"Besides, your cock is all mine, isn't it, Mr. Bishop?" Olivia turns him over and sits over his lap, staking her dominant position.
"Yes, Ma'am. And if you want, I'd be perfectly happy to be called your "Massive Pleasure-in-the-Ass."
Olivia turned red and indulged him. "I guess that is on our list for another day. And not here on the floor. Ever. Let's go home and get showers then talk, OK?"
Re: Hey Jealousy
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-06-07 10:43 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Hey Jealousy
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Date: 2011-06-03 05:24 pm (UTC)Peter getting off on Olivia's breasts.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-06 03:50 am (UTC)Olivia waited on her knees as he poured lube over her chest, using his hands to spread the gel over her breasts, teasing her nipples. He spread the remnants over his hard cock, mixing it with his pre-come under her curious eyes.
“Hold your breasts together like this,” he said, placing her hands on the side of both her breasts, keeping them together as he placed his slick cock between them. Peter started moving slowly, pumping his cock and watching her reaction as it changed from curious to concentrated until she finally found it arousing. Her hair falling over her shoulders like a beautiful curtain and she watched his cock disappearing and reappearing between her boobs.
“Come on, Peter, fuck it harder. Come on my mouth,” she coaxed him, her eyes meeting his. Peter was close already, looking down at her from his standing position and grabbing her by the hair, forcing her to look up at him. Not that she wouldn’t, it was just part of the game and he loved it. He smirked, as her mouth opened in an O, his cock so close to touching her lips with each thrust.
He came without a warning, spilling his hot seed onto her chest, her neck and her cheeks, missing out her mouth just to irritate her. With a harsh tug of her hair, he kept her steady and fucked her breasts harder, now aiming at her lips, making her take his tip into her mouth so she could swallow the remnants of his cum.
Peter let his body fall heavily against the sofa, still watching her, wiping her juices off her face with the tip of her fingers and licking them clean, humming approvingly, the expression on her face pornographic enough to send his cock a tingling sensation.
She waited a few seconds for him to recover and smile at her.
“Thank you,” he said, caressing her hair, pulling her for a kiss and tasting himself on her lips.
Olivia shook her head.
“You owe me big time, Peter. Big time,” she said, standing up and walking to the bathroom.
Peter smiled. He couldn’t wait to pay it back to her.
(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-06-08 03:57 am (UTC) - Expandno subject
Date: 2011-06-04 05:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 10:50 am (UTC)Maybe they're undercover on a case and they have to pretend a little more in order to convince their suspects?
Tust is a Two-way Street, (Peter/Olivia, bad guys made them do it - dubcon)
Date: 2011-06-26 04:40 am (UTC)“Do you trust me?” Peter breathes against her neck. She can smell his sweat and feel his gut tighten as Carlino jams the gun into his kidney again.
“Come on saputo, you say she’s just your girl, I want to see you do ‘er.” He leans in, grinds his pelvis against Peter’s, presses them both tighter against the wall. Peter braces his elbows against the cinderblock on either side of Olivia’s head, but Carlino has his knee between Peter’s thighs, giving him the advantage and leaving shit for leverage.
As if the .45 wasn’t incentive enough. At this range the bullet would gut them both, and Carlino knows it. He’d also figured they weren’t the biological weapons buyers he was supposed to be meeting about five minutes into the deal and it’s only Peter’s silver tongue that’s kept them alive this long.
“Let’s go, Pietro. Prove it.” Carlino jabs him again.
Peter drops his forehead onto her collarbone and pitches his voice so low she can barely hear him. “Do you trust me?” His fist bunches the fabric of her dress – the ever impractical, no-place-to-hide-a-bug-or-a-weapon-dress, selected to fit the part. She’s not sure exactly what he has in mind, but they lost radio contact with Charlie once they entered the building and their options are getting slimmer by the minute.
Peter runs his fingers down her thigh, slips them up under the hem, trails them along the bare skin of her hip. He sweeps his finger in a circle, pauses, straight line with a hook at the end, pauses, then looks up and meets her eyes, willing her to understand. She gasps as he finishes the letter ‘a’ with a flourish, playing her part.
Carlino grunts his approval. Olivia can feel his excitement, sees the way his pupils dilate as Peter brings his other hand down and hikes her skirt up to her waist. She hears his breathing quicken s he grinds into Peter again, pushing him into her. She feels Peter’s mouth on her skin, his lips making shapes of their own, begging her forgiveness.
This is not the time to fumble the play. Olivia drags his face up to hers. Peter freezes, stutters for just a second, so she arches against him, hoping it’s enough of a distraction as she mouths the words ’I trust you’ against his lips. He jerks as she reaches down between them and goes for his fly.
That’s the permission Peter’s been waiting for.
He grabs a handful of her hair, palms her breast roughly and she moans into his neck. She never takes her eyes off Carlino.
“’Atta boy, show ‘er who’s boss.” Carlino encourages him. Olivia can smell his sour sweat as he leans against Peter’s shoulder and goes for the reach around. As he slips his hand between their bodies, the gun in the other hand slips low. That’s all the opening she needs.
She signals Peter with a quick pinch and he drops his shoulder just as she slams her knuckles into Carlino’s throat. She feels the cartilage pop and sees his eye fly open in surprise. Not the climax he was expecting. Peter spins, grabs the gun, and before she can stop him, squeezes the trigger. Carlino drops like the sack of shit that he is.
Olivia’s ears ring in the silence that follows. She smoothes her dress back down and takes a step towards Peter, but he just pushes past her, through the mess of agents crowding outside, alerted by the gunfire.
She finds him later, sitting in the passenger seat of her SUV, head propped against the window, eyes closed. Olivia slides into the driver’s seat and closes the door gently. Peter opens one eye, closes it again, and they just sit. Breathing.
Decompressing.
But it’s late and she’s tired and he’d waited for her, which she takes as a good sign. Still, he hasn’t said a word since leaving the room.
Olivia reaches out a hand, and when he doesn’t flinch, she drags her finger over the smooth skin on the back of his hand in the shape of a ‘p’. She spells out his name slowly, one letter at a time, and when she’s done, he turns his hand over, palm up. She laces her fingers between his.
“I’ve always trusted you Peter.”
He gives her hand a squeeze.
Re: Tust is a Two-way Street, (Peter/Olivia, bad guys made them do it - dubcon)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-06-26 02:04 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Tust is a Two-way Street, (Peter/Olivia, bad guys made them do it - dubcon)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-06-26 10:09 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Tust is a Two-way Street, (Peter/Olivia, bad guys made them do it - dubcon)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-06-27 03:13 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Tust is a Two-way Street, (Peter/Olivia, bad guys made them do it - dubcon)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-02-29 12:17 am (UTC) - Expandno subject
Date: 2011-06-05 10:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 11:41 pm (UTC)