1 - 20 of 380 Works in Dept. Q (TV)
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It’s blasphemous to think that, but their joining feels almost holy. The taste of his omega’s skin and slick, the smell of his pheromones, the warmth and tightness of his pliant body, and most importantly, the knowledge that Carl surrenders himself to Akram’s desires, completely, wholeheartedly, time and time again. It is entirely humbling.
Or, in the sandbox of Omegaverse.
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Carl comes back to the bookshop where he's worked for years. It should be easy. He's good at his job, in his own way.
Except that everything is different after the event that sent him to the hospital. Everything, including that new IT guy who is supposed to help them.
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Carl gets hard over Akram and can't seem to cum no matter how hard he tries. Turns out all he needed was Akram to be there while he tried, even if it is in the middle of the office.
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"Yeah, but two middle-aged men can't just sit in a randomly parked car for half the night. That's giving off cops or perverts."
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Carl's precognitive abilities chose the worst time imaginable to crap out on him: right before the Leith Park shooting. Four months later, he's determined to try and get them back, even if it means working closely with his annoying new assistant.
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"Who better than Mr. 'I'm good at finding things that don't wanna be found'?"
A missing scene from Episode 9.
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If he was more prone to sarcasm, he would congratulate himself on finding the most difficult man to fixate on
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Carl is sitting there at the kitchen table, his fingers idly gliding over the rim of a whisky glass next to a bottle that’s already missing most of the amber-coloured liquid. Carl’s face bears more than his usual sullenness. There’s a sharp, grim edge, clearly tinged with sadness and Jasper knows he can't let that stand. A bit of old history is relived and long overdue conversations ensue. (Follow-up to previous stories in my Paul Harris universe.)
Series
- Part 8 of Paul Harris is a fucking saint
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It’s over in a second, but something moves in Akram’s habitually still gaze, visible even with one eye blurry. A hint of some warm creature in the stone-cold dark. He’s seen it before. Carl doesn’t chase it, only because he wills himself not to. This is a place he doesn’t touch—that neither of them do, really.
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Carl was used to having nightmares. He was used to having nightmares of Leith Park especially. But this one was something else. Why the hell was he seeing Akram lying in his own blood in that shitty living room, instead Anderson ?
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旅館的窗簾不完全遮光，Akram將雙手交疊在腹部上，端正的躺下，他的眼角餘光瞥到被當作是界限的枕頭，然後是丟下這顆枕頭的人背對著他，身體微微蜷縮，是一個在心理學上稱作沒有安全感的睡姿。
但也不一定。Akram心想，畢竟他把他的後背全部交給他了。
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Carl跟Akram被迫睡在旅館的同一張床上。- Language:
- 中文-普通话 國語
- Words:
- 1,609
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 32
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然而還沒等到Carl付諸行動，Akram率先別開視線，他的手一緊，讓Carl的手腕感受到一陣刺痛。
「為什麼要幫我擋槍，Carl？」
所以這他媽是這個人關心人的方式嗎？哇，真是讓他受寵若驚。
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Carl幫Akram擋槍之後，Akram很生氣。- Language:
- 中文-普通话 國語
- Words:
- 1,514
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 22
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Summary
He’d told Carl twice he was going to tell them. Carl hadn’t said don’t.
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Carl gets an unexpected and devastating letter that throws him another curveball he wasn’t prepared for and will need help to catch. This prompts a difficult trip down to the south of England that he isn’t taking alone. (Follow-up to previous stories in my Paul Harris universe.)
Series
- Part 7 of Paul Harris is a fucking saint
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This hadn't been a problem yesterday, but something about being pinned against Akram in the dark, holding on like he was the last warm place in the world, had messed with his head.
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The place is dark enough that Carl loses the ability to make out faces as soon as the door shuts behind him, which he supposes is the way they like it here.
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Carl’s old friend Paul and his boyfriend Doug are finally tying the knot, and of course Paul asked Carl to be his Best Man. This prompts a trip for Carl to his old home in the south of England where he also has some things to think about regarding his own life. (Pre-canon and follow-up to previous stories in my Paul Harris universe.)
Series
- Part 6 of Paul Harris is a fucking saint
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Carl is up a stepladder trying to prise the crumpled, papery remains of a wasp nest off the corner of the ceiling. While hoping that the wasps inside it are long dead, and not about to take up arms for what is clearly the war crime he's committing.
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Jasper's not dead. That's not fucking possible.
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Or: Carl finds out all of the love he’s ever felt is platonic.
Series
- Part 1 of anon’s hyperfixations