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sageispunk · 8 months ago

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your writing never fails to amaze me👏🏾👏🏾

Neighbors 🩵 Lovers

Part Four

Shutting his door, he placed his sturdy back against it. His head collided gently with the surface and he shut his eyes tightly. An even breath escaped his nose and his built chest rose up and down. Diesel’s barking brought his attention down to his pit bull. Erik slid down his door until his bottom touched the floor. Diesel relaxed next to him and Erik rubbed his back. His obsidian eyes stared off into space, but his mind replayed scenes from the night’s festivities over and over.

He dragged his other hand down his face.

Faedra McAdams almost made him say those three words.

Erik brought his left knee up and rested his elbow there while stroking his bottom lip with his thumb. He couldn’t believe it. From the outside looking in, you’d think he’d only known her for several weeks. Truth is, he’d known her for months. Five long months. From a distance. Through his telephoto lens while parked in a car or on a rooftop at night through a 10-power scope.

To understand why, it’s best to know what Erik does for a living more extensively. He is a Mercenary nicknamed Killmonger turned professional Hitman and a top agent for the International Contract Agency. Both Killmonger and his partner, Diana, work together during missions and she controls what jobs he’s hired to take on.

Before the ICA discovered Erik, he was a JSOC Special Ops who was kidnapped and became the product of a HYDRA experiment. The Winter Soldiers were HYDRA's elite group of assassins that were administered with Howard Stark's version of the Super Soldier Serum. Due to the mental side effects caused by Stark's serum, the Winter Soldiers were all kept in cryostasis at the HYDRA Siberian Facility, during which they were killed by Helmut Zemo. All except for Killmonger who escaped.

His genetically-engineered and enhanced body and mind (combined with his extensive knowledge and training) made him become the world's deadliest and most efficient assassin. Killmonger was a relatively emotionless assassin until Fae came into the picture. He couldn’t understand how this woman altered his controlled lifestyle so much. For once, Erik was able to relax and be himself. He was able to have real emotions.

The Ghost Fugitive was his current elusive mission he’d been hired to do months ago but Erik stalled because of Fae. He decided to move into an apartment here to keep an eye on his target. He was told to eliminate everyone involved or suspected to be involved. Instead of getting the job done, he purposefully dragged himself. He knew soon enough, Diana would come along asking questions. And that’s why he’s currently stressing. How was he going to explain this to Diana?

Erik’s phone buzzed and he turned his hip to retrieve it from his back pocket. Looking down at his phone, he paused when he’d seen her name. He hated the way he left her. She’s probably in her apartment right now questioning his change of plans. She’s probably blaming herself. Erik picked himself up from the floor and took off his shoes. He placed his jacket on the couch and took a seat.

Erik’s leg bounced as he tried to figure out what to say. She’s probably overthinking.

It wasn’t okay. He fell for her. He wasn’t supposed to fall for her.

She did have a point. He was supposed to be snugged behind her in her bed—well, that bitch nigga slept there too. He’d much rather she be in his bed right now. Cuddling with Fae beneath his sheets sounded so much better.

Erik stood up from his couch and strolled over to his door. He could see Fae leaving her apartment with Deuce in her pajamas. She knocked on his door and Erik opened it quickly. Fae slipped inside with Deuce in her arms and he shut the door. Fae’s big brown eyes looked up at him and Erik looked down at her beautiful face. Fae had her braids up in a messy bun and the cutest nightgown on. One of those nightgowns you get from Target.

“Hi.” She greeted him with a soft-spoken voice.

“Hi.” Erik replied.

“You wanted to talk?” Fae questioned.

Her eyes followed Diesel as he walked up to her. He sniffed her feet in a pair of Ugg Tasman slippers. She placed Deuce down on the floor and both dogs scurried off.

“Yeah,” Erik reached out for her hand, “Let’s go to my room.”

Fae took his hand and they walked to his room. Once inside, Erik cracked his door. Fae climbed onto his bed and kicked off her slippers. Erik took off his cargo pants and settled next to Fae. She was resting on her side while her head is propped up in her hand.

“…I’m sorry that I stormed off. I just…I was worried about Cordell popping up unexpectedly. I was thinkin’ about how he comes home every night after doing whatever the fuck it is that he’s doing and just…laying next to you after all that like shit is cool is fucked up to me. It’s manipulative. I don’t like it.”

Fae listened intently. Her eyes blinked slowly at Erik.

“…you’re too sweet, too beautiful, too much of a good woman to endure that. I love that you’re cheating back, I love that you let me do you in your apartment. I love it, I just don’t like that he’s still there…with access to you…and for that I’m sorry. It’s not my place to feel that way. You don’t owe me an explanation, ma.”

Erik turned away and stared down at his hands. Fae sat up on her knees and grabbed Erik’s shoulder. He looked up at her through his curled lashes. Fae’s eyes scanned his handsome face before she scooted closer, pressing her soft lips against his. Erik’s brows furrowed and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. Fae swung a leg over him and plopped down in his lap. They kissed for a while, Erik’s fingertips rubbing up and down the dip in her spine, Fae’s hands tugging on his locs.

Erik broke their kiss and he stared into Fae’s eyes before his gaze dropped down. He couldn’t look at her without those three words echoing in his conscious. Fae kisses along his neck, causing Erik to grunt.

“Faedra,” Erik said with a hushed tone.

“Hm?”

Fae’s face was so close to his that their noses touched.

“You’re asking for it, girl…”

Fae giggled softly, “What if I am?”

Erik’s low eyes stared her down. Fae bites her lip and Erik licked his own. Fae leaned back and grabbed the bottom of her nightgown, lifting it up and over her head in one motion. Erik’s eyes fell to her breasts with stiff, brown nipples. His hands came up to palm them and Fae grabbed his face, pulling him in for another kiss. Erik’s hands roamed all over her body. He couldn’t get over how soft her skin felt.

“Don’t think, just fuck me,” Fae shoved Erik and he fell back against the bed, “Let me ride it.”

She didn’t give Erik any time to pull his briefs down. Fae’s dainty hands tugged with force and his dick bobbed out and stood tall, pointed towards her mouth. Fae slid down his body in a rush and wrapped her plump lips around his tip.

“Fuck, girl,” Erik hissed, “Damn…”

Fae swallowed him and she gagged a little. Erik’s hand curled around the base of her head and he forced his dick deeper. So deep that his balls were almost touching her chin.

Fae drew back and started sucking his length down her throat. Erik’s toes dragged across the carpet of his bedroom floor and his thigh muscles flexed. This is probably the best head he’d had in a long time. She had him shaking.

“Dayum,” Erik formed a crease in his brow and pouted his lip, “You’re such a nasty girl….ughhhhh—”

His orgasm caught him off guard. He fell back against the bed completely and dragged both of his hands down his face in disbelief. Fae’s lips popped off his thick pipe and she licked her lips before climbing up and straddling him. She squatted over him and Erik help her up with his hands beneath her ass.

Fae aimed his fat tip at her wet hole and she circled her hips over his sensitive head before slowly lowering her hips. They both sigh in unison. She placed her hands on his chest, arched her back, folded her feet beneath his strapping thighs, and bounced. Erik’s hands fell to his sides and he stared up at her with his eyes ablaze.

“Uhuh, Uhuh, Uhuh, Uhuh,” Fae moaned.

“You love this fuckin’ dick…look how you’re taking it,” Erik bites his lip, “Don’t stop.”

Fae forced her eyes shut and focused her attention on giving Erik the best ride he’s ever had. The sound of her wet pussy and skin slapping against his thighs filled the room. Fae’s braids fell from her bun and crowded her face. One of her hands came up to grip Erik by the jaw and her eyes crossed.

“You cumming? That pussy cumming?” Erik questioned with a soft voice.

Fae could only nod her head.

“You’re so fucking sexy—”

“Oh!”

Fae fell and she was pressed against Erik. Erik wrapped his arms around her and rolled over so that she was on her back again. He dragged her towards the edge of the bed and spread her thighs. With her ankles in his hands, Erik stood up and started fucking her. Fae clung to the sheets for dear life. Erik watched the way his fat dick split her pussy open wide. That clit was poking out at him, her labia was spread open and wrapped around his dick like a pair of lips, his dick was glossy from her arousal. It was beautiful.

“Erik!” Fae shouted.

He hunched over her and wrapped his hands around her neck. She looked up at him with surprise and her mouth agape.

“Oh! Uh! Yes! Daddy!”

Her body seized up and her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head.

“I love making you cum, baby…”

He slipped out and Fae gasped. Erik picked her up and placed her on her stomach with her head on a pillow. Fae’s hand slipped beneath his pillow and she could feel weighted steel. She withdrew her hand quickly and Erik noticed. Fae looked back at him over her shoulder and Erik eyes were steady on hers while his hand slipped beneath the pillow to grip the handle.

“Why do you keep it under your pillow?” Fae asked.

Erik revealed his GLOCK G20 and sat it down carefully on his bedside table with the barrel pointed in the opposite direction.

“Just a habit.” Erik said.

He spread her thighs a little so he could find her entrance. Fae’s eyes shut when his dick pushed inside deep. He propped himself up on his fists behind her and he fucked her in flat doggy-style.

Fae smashed her left cheek against the pillow and both of her hands fisted the sheets. The constant clapping and bouncing of the mattress was enough to prove how deep Erik was dickin’ Fae down.

“You’re mine..your ass is mine,” Erik said with a shaky voice from the way Fae’s pussy clenched around him.

“Yes! Yes!” Fae shouted.

Erik dropped to his knees and grabbed Fae by her braids. One hand came down on her ass with a wide open palm.

“Bring that ass up,” Erik watched with hard eyes as Fae arched her back, “Good girl…”

He went in like he never stopped. Erik used Fae’s hair to turn her head so she could look back at him. Hot tears stained her cheeks. Tears of ecstasy. Erik released her hair and placed one hand around the front of her neck. His hot tongue slipped into her drooling mouth and he licked and sucked all over her lips.

“Mhm…mmmmm,” Fae could only moan.

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” Erik spoke against her lips with a smirk.

“Please?!” Fae begged with a whiny voice.

“Ask me better than that, Fae.”

Erik released her and Fae dropped forward, hiding her face when Erik started going faster. In and out his thick pipe thrusted.

“Ask me…,” Erik whacked her across the ass again, “Open your mouth and ask me, Fae.”

“Daddy–Daddy please?—can I cum?” She spoke with a hushed tone.

“You wanna bust on this dick you better fix your arch!!!”

Fae whimpered as she pushed herself up and arched her back. Erik hummed in approval and it sent a shiver up her spine so intense her shoulders buckled. Even the kiss he placed in the center of her spine made her gasp as if she’d been doused in cold water.

“Better?” Fae replied with a trembling voice.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl!!!”

Fae couldn’t believe how fucking wet she was. That dick was sliding in and out her pussy with ease. She felt a heat in the pit of her belly and it caused tears to stream down her cheeks. She almost saw heaven. It was that intense. An out of body experience. Like her soul left its vessel for a brief intermission. She didn’t even have to announce her release, Erik felt it.

“Oh, yeah? Oh fuck yeah,” Erik grunted, “FUCK.”

He slipped out and his hot cum painted her backside. Fae dropped down on the bed like she’d been knocked out. Erik sat back on his haunches and tried to catch his breath. He was sweating so much that it dripped from his nose.

“Fae?” Erik called out to her, “You okay?”

“…mhm.”

Erik’s chest was burning from trying to catch his breath. He carefully climbed off of the bed and walked up to Fae. He smoothed her braids from her face and wasn’t surprised to find her sleeping. He palmed her booty and gave it a light slap. She squirmed and scrunched her face in such a cute way.

“I love you.” Erik said.

“Mhm.” Fae responded.

Erik knew she didn’t really hear him. But damn, he wanted her to. So bad. He grew to love her from a distance before they officially met. It was hard to explain. It hit him so fast. What was supposed to be a mission turned out to be a pleasant distraction. Erik honestly didn’t know if they would ever be together. That stung worse than the blade once wedged in his side.

Erik brought the sheets over Fae’s body and she snuggled against one of his pillows. Erik went to take a piss and when he returned he could hear his work phone vibrating. His chest grew tight with anticipation as he retrieved the phone from his side table drawer. Bringing the screen to his gaze, he shut his eyes briefly.

Diana.

Erik walked out of his room, cracking the door behind him before walking into his office. He cracked the door and answered the call.

“Meet me at Liberty State Park.”

She didn’t even wait for a response from Erik before ending the call abruptly. Erik slowly moved the phone away from his ear. He knew exactly what this was about.

Twinkling night sky, glassy ink-black water, and the reflection of the New York skyline ablaze with many lights was the view that greeted Erik’s eyes. Hands in his all black hoodie pockets, he spotted the statuesque figure of Diana with her back turned towards him. She glanced over her shoulder and her golden eyes met his briefly before she tore them away.

Erik took his place beside her silently, eyes scanning the lively city. His black Doc Martens tapped the concrete impatiently. The forty-five minute drive over felt like a waste. Whatever she has to say she could have said over the phone.

“Killmonger.” Diana greeted him.

“Diana.”

Erik looked at her with a tight jaw.

“The Ghost Fugitive.”

Erik exhaled.

“I’m handling it—”

“Faedra McAdams has been a distraction, Killmonger. Since when do you get distracted?”

Erik remained silent. He had no reason to argue Diana’s point. He had been distracted and thrown off his game.

“Do you know how long it took? Do you understand that if you don’t end this now, it would have been for nothing?” Diana said.

“Listen—”

“I know you don’t care about politics, Killmonger, but we decided to do this together because of the ICA. We can’t allow ourselves to be manipulated. You know all about manipulation, don’t you?”

Diana fully turned to stare at Erik. Her wind blown shoulder-length hair fell into her eyes and she combed her hair away. The chilly air caused her to slightly shiver.

“They’re asking questions. Do you want them to step in?”

“No.” Erik replied begrudgingly.

“Let me give you a brief reminder of how the ICA system works, Killmonger. You get three penalties. Three,” Diana emphasized the number three with her fingers, “which is generous compared to other agencies like HYDRA, but after those three strikes are up, they send a top agent such as yourself, to eliminate the Assassin. You should know about that, you do it all the time.”

Erik closed his eyes and released an even breath.

“I’m aware of the logistics, I know what the fuck I’m up against—”

“Then get it done. You have until the start of the Bankok job. If you have to burn it to dispose of your little distraction, do it. Otherwise…”

Diana retrieved an all black pistol from the back of her tight black pants and Erik’s eyes didn’t leave hers. He knew that Diana would kill Faedra. Without hesitation. In that case, he’d have to kill her. No one was going to lay a finger on Fae.

“…I’ll do it for you.”

Silence stretched on for another five seconds until Erik’s sinister chuckle caused Diana to narrow her eyes.

“…Let me make myself clear, Diana,” Erik rolled his shoulders in a threatening manner and his voice took on a deeper more menacing tone, “I’ll kill you.”

Erik’s face was centimeters away from Diana’s. His eyes didn’t blink and they looked cold and dark.

“…You don’t touch her. You don’t speak to her. You don’t even breathe around her.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed at Erik and that pistol was still in her grasp.

“Partner or not, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes, Diana,” Erik looked her up and down, “Do we have an understanding?”

“How dare you—”

“I SAID…do we have an understanding—”

“How long have you known about her? Five months?! What will she think when she finds out who you really are? Then what? You think she’ll love you, Erik? You’re incapable of love. Maybe I should remind you about what you did all those years ago to your ex. You almost killed that woman. If Fae was in her right mind, she would run so far away from you—”

Erik snatched up Diana’s gun and pointed it at her forehead. Diana stared at him wide-eyed and he could see the fear beyond her gaze. He took the safety off of the pistol and Diana stared into the barrel.

“You don’t talk about my past, Diana. You don’t get to stand there and fucking judge me. You don’t know what the fuck I’ve been through!”

Diana stared at Erik with a stony expression.

“Get that gun out my face, Erik.” Diana commands with a low, threatening tone.

Erik didn’t do it right away. After another minute he slowly lowered the gun and placed it behind him in the waistband of his pants. Dianna scuffed and shook her head before creating space between them.

“Doesn’t matter. If I don’t kill her, they will.” Diana said matter-of-factually.

“I’ll get it done. Get off my ass about it.” Erik replied.

Diana looked at Erik with disappointment. He could feel her judgment through her hard gaze.

“Have you been training for the Bangkok job?”

Club 27 is Killmonger’s current high-profile mission. He’s tasked to kill Jordan Cross and Ken Morgan. One year ago, promising young actress, Hannah Highmoore, fell to her death from Cross' penthouse loft in Dumbo, New York. According to the police, Ms. Highmoore's death was a tragic accident but her parents remain unconvinced. They firmly believe that Cross murdered Hannah and only escaped justice due to the power and influence of his father: billionaire media mogul Thomas Cross.

A secondary target, Ken Morgan, corporate fixer and attorney to the Cross family, is also staying at the hotel. Cunning and unscrupulous, Morgan was a key agent in the cover-up of Hannah Highmoore's murder and Jordan Cross' subsequent acquittal. The Highmoores understandably want retribution. And while the system may be powerless, Killmonger is anything but.

“There’s a room waiting for me at the Himmapan Hotel as we speak.” Erik replied with a dry tone.

“In that case, we’re done talking.”

Diana turned to leave and Erik caught her by the arm. She didn’t look back at him.

“…I’m really sorry about putting that gun in your face. I don’t take threats lightly.”

“What a way to apologize,” Diana chuckled, “it’s just a phase, right? You fuck her?”

Erik released Diana’s arm and she finally faced him with a sly smirk.

“You did. Oh, Killmonger…”

Erik looked at her with unblinking eyes. Diana held her hand out for her gun and Erik lifted the back of his hoodie up, retrieving the pistol. He placed it in Diana’s hand and she accepted it.

“Expect a debrief in two weeks…”

Diana walked away, leaving Erik alone to his thoughts.

Fae tried to calm him down. Her tears flooded her vision. Cordell stood there with his hands up and a frightened look in his eyes. Erik was in full rage mode. It was understandable, Cordell was really asking for it.

“I’ll kill you for what you did to her!” Erik barked out.

They were standing on the rooftop of the apartment building.

“Erik, listen to me, put the gun down.”

Fae placed one hand on his arm tenderly. Her eyes were pleading with him to put the gun down. He took one look at Fae and then his eyes were back on Cordell molten hot. He lowers his P365 slowly, eyes unblinking.

Thump!

Fae watched with wide eyes and her mouth dropped open in shock.

Erik kicked Cordell off of the rooftop. Erik watched with sinister eyes as his body dropped to his death.

Erik!

He looked back at her with a villainous smile.

Fae opened her eyes and her heartbeat settled to a lower rhythm. Sleeping on Erik’s bed felt like sleeping on a cloud. Fae yawned and her sleepy eyes looked down at Erik’s side of the bed. She had a nightmare about Erik and Cordell fighting over her. It ended with Cordell falling to his demise. Fae sat up fully and climbed out of bed to use the bathroom.

When she returned after freshening up, she stared down at his Glock on the bedside table. Fae reached out and picked up the heavy gun. She turned it every which way, wondering to herself if it was a habit of his because he was a Bodyguard for important people. That would explain why he was always on high alert.

Speaking of Erik, he disappeared again. She went on a search for her phone and found it on his dresser. Fae called Erik and each time she did, it continued to ring and ring. She started to grow worried. It was so early in the morning, why would he leave so suddenly?

She opened his closet and grabbed a random hoodie from a hanger, pulling it over her head. She left his room and walked down the length of the hallway, her eyes searching from room to room. Fae sat on the sofa while Diesel and Deuce were stretched out on the floor. All of them were waiting for Erik’s return.

She reached for his remote and powered on the TV. As she flipped through random channels, an episode of House Hunters caught her attention. Time stretched on until It was six o’clock in the morning. Fae had tried his phone multiple times again and that’s when she started thinking the worst. She figured she could feed the boys so she gave them both a quick meal. She knew that they needed to go for a walk and relieve themselves.

After another hour, the door knob jiggled and Fae shot up from the couch, almost hitting her knee against the coffee table. Both Diesel and Deuce were on their feet, tails wagging expectantly. Fae watched as Erik opened the door and he looked at her then down at the dogs. He secured the door and pushed his hood off before approaching Fae.

“Erik? I tried calling you.”

He stared at her for a second and then his eyes scanned the room. What she didn’t know, was that he’d left last night in such a hurry, he forgot his personal cell phone.

“I had to step out to prepare for that job. I’ve been caught up lately and I needed some time to get it done. I gotta leave in a matter of days…I’m sorry I didn’t let you know.”

Fae’s expression softened and she tried to hide her annoyance with a smirk and a dry chuckle.

“I was—I was just worried—how did training go?”

“Good. I feel better about the job now.” Erik replied.

“Great,” Fae rocked back and forth on her heels, “I was thinking we could walk the boys? I know they need to go to the bathroom…”

“Yeah…yeah. Go throw on a pair of my sweats and meet me out here.”

Fae disappeared down the hall and Erik exhaled. She took two minutes and she was back out and ready to go.

“Ready, pretty girl?”

“Yep.” Fae replied with a blush.

They left the apartment together and Fae walked ahead of Erik to catch the elevator. Erik caught up with her and grabbed her hand. Fae looked from their intertwined fingers and up to his face. Erik smirked at her and she returned the smile.

“I had an idea. I don’t know if you’d be down for it our not…”

The elevator doors opened and they walked inside.

“What’s that?” Fae responded with curiosity.

She leaned against the wall of the elevator and stared up at Erik with attentive eyes.

“Since this is going to be my last few days with you before I leave for Bangkok, I was wondering if you’d be okay if I took you to work in the mornings? I could even pick you up…”

Fae’s brown eyes widened and Erik chuckled.

“Uhm…yeah, I would like that. Cordell usually works late and he doesn’t come home until an hour or so after me. You can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Fae wagged her arched brows playfully.

“Nahhhh,” Erik smiled, “You got me in a trance.”

Fae giggles. The elevator doors opened and Erik gave her two quick pecks to her soft lips. They quickly left the elevator and strolled out of the apartment building and onto the busy sidewalk. They made their way to the dog park hand-in-hand.

“We could have a quickie before you clock in. A quickie before I drop you off…”

Fae nibbled on her bottom lip. Erik’s eyes scanned her body. Deuce and Diesel were both sped up at the same time, pulling Fae and Erik along.

“Looks like we’re moving too slow for them!”

“Guess so—AYE!”

Erik almost stumbled over the pavement from Diesel taking off running when the dog park came into view. Fae laughed boisterously at Erik trying to gain control of the leash.

“You should have seen your face! Priceless,” Fae was bent over laughing, “Looked like your life flashed before your eyes!”

Erik shook his head before crouching down to let Diesel free, “Aight, Fae, wasn’t that funny.”

“If it was me, you would be laughing, shut up!” Fae teased.

“You shut up, midget,” Erik fired back.

Fae shoves Erik and he fell back on his hands. He looked up at her with a glare and he shot up to his feet, wrapping his arms around her trim waist and lifting her from the ground. Fae writhed in his grasp and Deuce circled Erik’s body, barking at him.

“Momma’s good, Deuce!” Erik shouted.

“Put me down, Erik!” Fae yelled.

They were causing a scene. Others that occupied the dog park were looking their way.

“Manners.” Erik said.

“Please?!”

Erik placed Fae onto her feet and she gave him a death glare.

“Aww, you’re so adorable,” Erik teased before reaching out to pinch her cheek.

“You better had let me down or Deuce was gonna bite that ass!” Fae argues.

“Deuce is my friend,” Erik placed a hand against his chest, “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

After Diesel and Duece went to the bathroom, Fae and Erik let them both run around for a bit. Fae sat on Erik’s lap and they both watched their dogs sprint around. Fae looked down at Erik and she reached up to play in his hair.

“Hmm,” Erik gave her a tired look, “That feels good.”

“You haven’t slept. You know that?” Fae said.

“I know, mamas. I’m gonna take a long nap when we get back.” Erik reassured her.

“I don’t wanna go back to my place…”

Erik’s exhausted gaze stared up at Fae.

“Then don’t. Stay with me.”

“…you know I can’t.” Fae replied.

A silence filled the space between them. Erik scratched the side of his nose and looked down at his feet.

“Why can’t you?” He questioned.

Fae sat quietly for a few seconds. Erik knew she was trying to figure out what to say. But what was there to say? He cheated on her multiple times. He’s no good for her.

“Fae?” Erik called out to her.

“Huh?” She replied with a small voice.

“What’s up?” Erik peeked up at her.

“Nothing…I don’t know why…”

Erik felt his chest tighten with anxiousness.

“Hm, okay.”

Fae was struggling to look at him. She turned her head towards the front. Erik exhales.

“Fae…what’s it gonna take for you to leave this nigga?”

“I am gonna leave him—”

“When?” Erik cut her off.

“Soon—”

“Soon as in when that nigga get home or…?”

“Erik…”

Fae climbed down from his lap.

“I just don’t understand what the hold up is.”

Fae rolled her eyes.

“You still love him?”

She looked at Erik and opened her mouth to speak but Erik could tell.

“You do, don’t you?”

“That’s hard to just say—to stop—I don’t want to—he’s been there for me through a lot—I’m gonna leave him it’s just hard. I’m gonna be on my own. The apartment is expensive—”

“You don’t need him. Trust me, you don’t.”

Fae’s sad eyes made Erik feel guilty.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I keep overstepping. I just…I don’t understand why you just don’t leave.”

“…You’re right.”

Fae exhaled a shaky breath.

“You know, I’ve always been so dependent on a man. Even now with everything, I feel like I’m lost, you know? And it sucks. It hurts.”

Erik’s eyes softened as he stared at her.

“You don’t need to feel that way. Fae…listen, look at me, you’re such an amazing woman. You deserve so much better. I don’t want you to feel like you have to settle. So what if he lives there? The more you allow him to stick around, the more in control he is. He’s been in control long enough.”

Erik’s jaw clenched and his eyes were ablaze. Fae’s big brown eyes became watery and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Erik thumbed her tear away and Fae released an uneven sigh.

“I’m gonna leave him today.”

Erik nodded his head and he couldn’t hold back his smile.

“This is gonna be tough…”

“I’ll be right there if you need me, Fae.” Erik said.

Crazy enough, two days had gone by with no trace of Cordell. No text, no call, nothing. Fae was more than prepared to confront him about his cheating and end things for good. She contacted his mother and even she hadn’t heard from him. She was very very worried. It wasn’t like Cordell to disappear without letting her know. Even if it was a lie, he wouldn’t have gone this long without checking in. Fae couldn’t sleep, work, or think without wondering where he was.

She checked the news and even a murder page on Instagram for any updates but wouldn’t his family know? Wouldn’t the police have shown up to her door by now? Erik had been busy himself. He would call Fae whenever he had time to check in to see how she was doing and if there were any updates, but it was getting closer and closer for his departure. She had to reschedule brunch with her friends because she was distracted mentally. Plus, she knew they would start asking questions and Fae wasn’t prepared to tell them.

Fae got herself dressed for work on a chilly Wednesday morning and Erik knocked on her door. Fae grabbed her work bag and made sure everything was good before leaving. She opened the door and Erik greeted her dressed in lounge wear like he just rolled out of bed. His head was covered in a black beanie. Fae accepted a kiss from him but she wasn’t really in the mood to kiss. Cordell was missing and she didn’t have any answers. Erik however didn’t seem fazed at all. Not that she was expecting him to.

“How are you?” Erik finally questioned when they were both in his car.

Fae adjusted her black spectacles and exhaled, “I’m worried. I don’t know where he could be or what he’s doing.”

Erik pulled out of the garage. He one-hand whipped his car.

“Do you think he might be with that woman?”

Fae shut her eyes and shook her head.

“I don’t even want to think about that. I’d probably kill him when I see him.” She said.

Erik glanced over at her.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on the news myself. Nothing out of the ordinary. Unless…he was abducted—”

“Who would want to kidnap Cordell?” Fae laughed, “He’s just a teacher from NY who can’t keep his dick to himself.”

Erik bit his tongue. He had a lot to say but he remained silent. It was best for him to remain silent.

“I don’t know. I’m just worried. I have this nervous feeling in my gut. I just…I don’t understand why he hasn’t reached out. I know he isn’t shit, but this isn’t like him at all.”

Fae rubbed her temples. Erik caressed her thigh.

“Relax, Fae. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t keep stressing out over it. You’ve been in contact with his family. I’m sure they’re looking into it.”

“I hope so,” Fae sighs, “I even tried his job and they acted like I was crazy.”

Erik formed a crease in his brow, “Whatchu mean?”

Fae exhaled, “Apparently they don’t know a Cordell. Which makes absolutely no sense. He’s a teacher there and a coach. How the fuck wouldn’t you know?”

Erik cocked his head to the side.

“Maybe you spoke to someone who’s a new hire?”

“Maybe. I need to speak to Miss whatever her name is. The girl he’s been sleeping with.”

After another twenty minutes, Erik pulled up at Fae’s job and he reached behind him to the back seat. He got out of the car and jogged around to open her door. Fae slipped out and Erik handed over her work bag. He kissed her cheek and rubbed her arms.

“Have a good day at work. Call me when you get a break. I’ll see. You at five.”

“Thanks, E.” Fae gave him a small smile.

“No problem.”

He got back in the car and watched Fae enter the MET. When the coast was clear, Erik drove off.

Fae greeted her coworkers as she made her way to her desk. After taking her seat, she checked her work phone voice messages and none were from Cordell. She booted her laptop and tried his phone again. A hand to her shoulder startled her and Fae jumped.

“Faedra! So sorry.”

It was her supervisor, Linda. Linda was a tall, lanky Caucasian woman with salt and pepper hair that she wore in a neat bun. Her oblong face with alabaster skin came into view. Fae stared into her concrete gray eyes with a startled look.

“I came to say goodmorning and to remind you about the field trip this morning? From the middle school? Manhattan Middle?”

Fae completely forgot about that.

“Oh! Yes, yes I remember. When will they be here?”

“In about twenty minutes or so. The teachers name is Miss. Rio.”

Fae couldn’t believe her ears. She didn’t know if this was the universe giving her a sign, but Miss. Rio being here at her job had to mean something. She was with Cordell this past weekend. He could be at her home right now. Fae was going to ask questions.”

“Great. I’ll go greet them.”

“Excellent,” Linda smiled before sauntering away.

After twenty minutes, a small history class of students in a single-filed line with their name badges and wandering eyes headed towards her. Fae could make out Miss. Rio and it took a lot of strength to be professional and smile. Miss. Rio looked at her and for a second, Fae knew that she’d recognized her.

“Hello! My name is Fae! Welcome Manhattan Middle! I’m so excited to be your tour guild for the day. We have a lot of ground to cover. Please, stay together and pay attention. We’re going to start in the African Origin of Civilization exhibition first.”

Miss. Rio was dressed in a dark purple, form-fitting pencil skirt with a black blouse and black flats. She walked to the front of the line while a substitute teacher remained in the back as an extra eye on the children. Miss. Rio gave Fae a nervous smile and Fae returned the smile.

They started making their way into the exhibit and while Fae did her thing, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of Miss. Rio.

“Scholars today recognize Africa as the source of our common ancestry. But in 1974, Senegalese scholar and humanist Cheikh Anta Diop shocked and challenged historians by asserting the influence of ancient African civilizations in his groundbreaking book The African Origin of Civilization: Myth or Reality…”

Fae continued, “This exhibition pays homage to Diop by presenting masterpieces from the Museum’s collections from west and central Africa alongside art from ancient Egypt for the first time in The Met’s history.”

Fae spent time on each exhibit and answered any questions the students had before they went to the next exhibition. Three exhibits in, the children took a lunch break before finishing up. Miss. Rio excused herself to the restroom and Fae took that opportunity to corner her. The substitute teacher had an eye on the children. Fae stepped to the side to allow a mother and her two daughters to walk out before she entered. Ironically, Miss. Rio was the only one remaining in the bathroom.

Fae only waited two minutes and the bathroom stall door opened. Miss. Rio walked out and her eyes landed on Fae’s. She shut the door behind her and walks over towards the sink. Fae locked eyes with her through the mirror and after Miss. Rio dried her hands off, she turned around to face Fae.

“What do you want to know?” She said.

Fae chuckled. Miss. Rio crossed her arms and shifted her weight on one hip.

“That’s what you have to say? After sleeping with my man? Coming to my apartment and fucking him in my bed? Are you serious?” Fae fired back.

“I didn’t know he was with anyone at first—”

“So, you just went to my apartment and not once noticed anything that made you think, oh! He’s in a relationship?!” Fae whisper-yelled.

“Listen, what do you want me to say?! An apology wouldn’t be enough, right?” Miss. Rio fired back.

“Wow…You’re a joke. Anyway, that’s not why I’m confronting you, you can have him. My beef is with him. I just want to know was he with you this weekend and is he still there? He hasn’t been home in two days.”

Miss. Rio hesitated.

“Well?” Fae pressed impatiently.

“Yes. Yes he was there this weekend. He left this morning.”

Fae turned away from Miss. Rio and shut her eyes. This motherfucker has been staying with that hoe for two days and didn’t even bother to say anything.

“I have to get back to my class.”

Fae didn’t have anything further to say. She didn’t like the woman, but what good will it do to whip her ass? She’d lose her job. Miss. Rio left Fae standing in that public bathroom with tears in her eyes. She felt like a fucking bozo. Fae grabbed a few tissues and blotched her cheeks before exiting the bathroom. The students, Miss. Rio, and the substitute waited for her.

“Okay! Who wants to see the European Paintings?”

Erik was seated in Grand Central Station. He could make out an old friend of his that worked with the ICA. His name is Ethan and he’s Asian. Ethan sat behind Erik, dressed in business attire to not draw attention. Erik turned his head slightly to his right to speak.

“Sean Thomas is missing. Anything you can tell me that I need to know?” Erik spoke with a hushed voice.

Ethan took out his phone and slipped it behind him so Erik could grab a hold of it through the opening in the bench. He retrieved the phone and his eyes dropped down to look at the screen. What he could make out was that the ICA attempted to exterminate him two days ago and Sean got away. This was bad news for Erik. He’s most likely lying low until things died down. A hoard of people made their way towards them. Ethan started speaking in mandarin.

“Tòuguò zhècì xíngdòng, tāmen zhèngzài shīqù duì nǐ de xìnrèn, kè'ěr máng gē.”

Erik nodded his head and cocked it to the side. Losing their trust in him meant penalty number one.

“Wǒ gāi xiāngxìn dài ānnà ma? Wǒ gǎnjué tā duì ICA gànrǎo wǒ de rènwù fù yǒu zérèn…”

Ethan pondered before he spoke, “Dài ānnà zhàozhāng bànshì. Guòqù yīgè yuè tā yīzhí zài niǔyuē. Wǒ bù huì xiāngxìn tā.”

So, Erik shouldn’t trust Diana. His guess was correct. She’s discussing things with the ICA behind Erik’s back. He needed to call her after this and schedule another meet up. He was going to cut ties with Diana and work alone. A lot of Hitmen work alone. It’s just a heavier workload and room for more mistakes.

They waited until the coast was clear. When the last person walked past, Erik cleared his throat.

“Have they been keeping an eye on her?” Erik asked.

“They plan to do whatever it takes to find him, Killmonger. If that means taking the girl, they’ll do it.” Ethan whispered.

“How long before they strike again?”

“Twenty-four hours.” Ethan said.

Silence stretched on. The background chatter and rushed footsteps of people surrounded them. Ethan stood up and adjusted his suit jacket before retrieving his work satchel and the phone from Erik’s hand between the seat.

“Rúguǒ nín xūyào wǒ de bāngzhù, nín zhīdào rúhé liánxì wǒ.”

Ethan pat Erik on the shoulder before walking away. Erik leans forward and props his elbows up on his thighs. This was his fault. If he didn’t get caught up with Fae and tapped into his cold, blood thirsty nature, Sean Thomas would already be dead.

He had to remain ahead of the ICA.

On his way out of Grand Central Station, Erik walked up to his car and hopped in. He dialed Diana’s number and after four rings, it went to voicemail. Erik checked the time and Fae would be off within the next hour. He made his way to her job to wait for her since he was on the other side of town. He knew that he had to be honest with Fae now. It wasn’t fair for him to keep his life a secret knowing that she had a target on her back. Even if the truth would push her away, protecting her was his number one priority.

Sean Thomas is a murderer, and a Con Artist. He’s good at stealing identities and disappearing under a new alias. He’s responsible for murdering four women across the U.S from Detroit, to Chicago, to Georgia, and now New York. He got landed in prison for a robbery charge that led him to a man named Cornell. Cornell has a history of drug-related crimes and he’s from New York. While locked up with Cordell for three years, he learned everything about his cell mate.

His family, his dream job, where he grew up. Sean planned on stealing his identity and creating a new life for himself. He got out of prison and hooked up with an old partner of his to help him with his new life. He settled in N.Y.C and reunited with his “family” who hadn’t seen him in years since he was adopted at the age of three. They welcomed him in like he never left.

What he didn’t know was that he’d been tracked down by Erik. Erik was hired to find out everything he needed to know about Sean and kill him. He’d burned too many bridges and stole from too many people. While Erik finally secured his target, he was also informed to kill anyone else who may get in the way, and that included a significant other.

Fae.

Erik had to keep an eye on Fae as well and the more he watched her, the more he fell for her. He did the one thing he normally wouldn’t do: get close. Now, he’s sleeping with his targets girl friend.

Erik’s car came to a slow stop outside of Fae’s job and he called her to see if she was finished for the day. Her phone rang and went to voicemail. Panic crept up Erik’s spine the more she wouldn’t answer. He opened his car door with force and stepped out onto the busy street. His eyes searched for anything that would give away someone watching her. From what he could tell, there was no sign of danger below.

His obsidian eyes looked towards the tops of the skyscrapers and buildings. His eyes double-backed to a short building with an open window across from the MET and three spots over. Erik knew that the window hadn’t been opened before. He had a snipers eye as well, so his gut instinct told him that a sniper was camped out in that building, waiting for Fae to arrive.

The best way for Erik to know for sure was to enter that building himself. It was broad daylight and rush hour in one of the busiest cities in the U.S. Erik rushed across the street as fast as he could and took long strides towards the building. He noted an alley and a back entrance to the building. Erik dipped down the alley and ran towards the end until he came across a lengthy fire escape. From what he remembers, the open window was on the top floor.

Erik climbed the fire escape two steps at a time. It took him five minutes to make it to the top since the building was only eight stories tall. Once there. Erik retrieved his gun and stood stealthily to the side of the cracked, dingy window. He risked a peep inside and all he could make out was a bunch of plastic sheeting since the building was still under construction.

Erik crouched down and with his back pressed firmly against the brick wall, he used his. Right hand to open the window carefully. Once fully opened, Erik ducked inside swiftly, his foot crunching down on broken cement and dust. His Maxim 9 pistol with a silencer integrated into the gun aimed in front of him, Erik moved haltingly with his eyes scanning the abandoned floor like a hawk. He made it into a room almost the size of a box and there, propped up in the window was a Mk 13 Mod 0/5/7 sniper rifle.

Erik surveyed the area to make sure the coast was clear. Whoever had been occupying this pot must have been here for less than eight hours. Erik got down on his knee and peeked through the sniper scope. It was aimed for the MET. He knew that Fae hadn’t been killed, but the sniper would have taken a shot if Erik hadn’t shown up. Just then, Erik’s phone vibrated deep in his back pocket. He quickly stood up and when he grabbed his phone, it was Fae calling him.

“Fae?” Erik answered.

“I’m sorry. I had to leave work earlier today. I took an Uber.”

Erik paced back and forth.

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have picked you up.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I know you’ve been busy lately. I’m at the apartment now. Just got here.”

“Any luck with Cordell?” Erik questioned.

“No. Still nothing.”

“I’m on my way, Fae. Just—”

A garrote wire wrapped around Erik’s throat from behind, cutting off his airway. His phone dropped from his grasp and fell to the hard floor, the screen cracking and blacking out. Erik’s fingers gripped the edge of the wire and he could feel it cutting into his fingers and drawing blood. He planted his feet firmly against the floor and with brunt force, Erik shoved the person trying to choke him back, their body hitting the wall with a loud thud.

The wire slipped from Erik’s neck, leaving behind an indentation and slight blood. Erik didn’t have time to properly catch his breath. He turned and came face to face with a masked man dressed in dark camouflage and boots. The man charged Erik and Erik’s closed fist planted between the bridge of their nose and forehead. It was a sharp punch with a lot of recoil. There was no coming back from that. Erik put them to sleep.

Their body went limp and they were splayed out on the dusty floor like a starfish. Erik took that time to rub his neck and catch his breath. Suddenly, the man clipped Erik and he fell backwards on his hands to catch himself. The masked man did a kick up and was on his feet within seconds. Erik did the same move and they both broke out in combat with hard punching, dodging, kicks, and grunts.

Erik caught both of his arms and head-butted the man before body slamming him so hard his back bowed. While he squirmed, Erik’s fingers fisted the front of his camouflage jacket and he dragged him over to the wall where he tossed him against it like a rag doll. Erik put his foot in that man’s stomach before using his bloody fist to take off the mask. A Caucasian male with a rough face covered in blood and bruises met his ferocious gaze.

“The ICA sent you?” Erik questioned with a hoarse voice, “ANSWER ME!”

Erik pressed the barrel of his pistol into the man’s chin. He was probably seeing double with how hard Erik thumped him.

“Y-You’re supposed to-suppose to be one–one of us.”

As he attempted to talk, blood sprayed from between his lips.

“So that’s a yes,” Erik chuckled darkly.

He pistol-whipped the sniper with the handle of his gun, knocking him out for good. Erik emptied his pockets and found a phone, wallet, keys, and a few knives. Erik combed through his wallet before pocketing it. The phone was locked, so he wouldn’t be able to figure out how to hack it until he got back to his apartment.

He needed to get back to his apartment.

Fae was alone and an easy target without him there. Erik rushed to grab a dust barrier, snatching it from the wall and he shielded himself from the blood splatter that would come from killing the sniper. Silencer aimed at his head a safe distance away, Erik fired his pistol and the bullet hit his target in the temple. Erik cleaned up any other traces of him being there and wrapped up the dust barrier, tucking it beneath his arm before making his escape.

“Erik? Hello? Erik?”

Fae stood outside of her apartment with her phone to her ear. The call dropped suddenly between her and Erik. She pulled the phone away from her left ear and gave the device a puzzled look. Dialing him again, Erik didn’t answer.

“What the fuck?” Fae mouthed.

Confused, Fae fumbled with her keys while trying to enter her apartment. The door opened and she pushed her way inside, exhausted mentally from the amount of stress she’d been experiencing because of Cordell. Fae sat her work bag on the hardwood floor beside the door and removed her shoes. After tossing her keys on a small table next to the door, Fae proceeded to walk further into her apartment. Just then, rustling could be heard coming from her room. Fae paused, her ears perked to catch the noise again. She knew that Deuce was there, but he wouldn’t be in her things like that.

Fae walked towards the back of her apartment, her eyes staring straight ahead cautiously at her cracked bedroom door. A hard thump followed by soft cursing had Fae paralyzed with fear. One hand pressed to her chest, body frozen in that hallway, Fae’s eyes fell on her guest bedroom door and noticed it had been shut. She didn’t close it before she left that morning. Deuce was most likely in there so he wouldn’t get in the way. Deuce would be barking right now if it were a stranger. So it had to be someone he was familiar with rummaging around in Fae’s room.

Fae rushed towards her bedroom door with a fresh wave of courage, pushing the door open with force and coming face-to-face with the cheating man himself.

“Cordell?!”

The room looked as if a stampede passed through. It was filthy. Papers everywhere, clothes littering the entire room, dresser drawers out turned and hanging from the hinges, closet ras at nsacked, mattress hanging from the box spring. Fae’s wide, shocked eyes looked back at Cordell with her mouth parted.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” She shouted.

Cordell simply looked at her with distant eyes before focusing back on finding whatever the FUCK it was he was looking for. Fae was livid.

“HELLO?! I’m talking to you!!”

Fae stomped over to Cordell, almost slipping on the papers scattered across the carpet. She caught herself by falling backwards onto the bed.

“Hey, HEY!” Fae gripped Cordell by his shoulder and forced him to turn back, “ANSWER ME ASSHOLE!”

“Get off of me, Fae.” Cordell finally spoke with a cold tone.

“Get off of you? Why don’t you explain to me why you’re vandalizing my fucking room, dick head?!!”

“WHERE DID YOU PUT IT?”

Cordell stood at his full height, towering over Fae. His voice seemed to change. It was deeper. Unfriendly. Unfamiliar. Cold. Fae cocked her head back and created space between them.

“Put what, Cordell?”

Cordell blinked at her and then he dropped his eyes down to the floor, “Doesn’t matter. It isn’t here.”

He was on his knees now, spreading the papers out, important papers that belonged to Fae. What is his deal?

“Where have you been, Cordell? I’ve been calling your phone and texting you for two days now!”

He ignored her again. Fae was shaking with rage.

“You know what! I’m sick of this shit. I’m so fucking sick and tired of your no good, CHEATING ASS!”

Cordell halted in his pursuit to find whatever it was he was looking for. His eyes slowly ascended to meet Fae’s. His face was void of expression.

“Yeah, I’ve known for days now that you’ve been cheating on me. Not one, but two women! One of which had a field trip at my job today. Miss. Rio?! She tells me you’ve been shacking it up with her all this time!”

Cordell bowed his head and exhaled.

Fae had a finger pointed at him aggressively and her voice was so loud it bounced off of the walls, “How could you disrespect me and bring these nasty women to MY APARTMENT WHERE I SLEEP?! How could you do this to me?! After everything I opened up to you about?! How I’ve been cheated on and mistreated in the past?!”

Fae’s vision blurred as tears flowed from her eyes. Cry-face and all, she was on a rampage. Cordell finally stood up and he just looked at her with no ounce of remorse. No sorries, no care as to how she felt. Nothing. Just a piece of shit man.

“YOU NEVER LOVED ME, HUH?!!! I loved you! I would have done anything for you!!!! How could you—just–how could you just stand there and say nothing?!!”

Fae threw her hands up and stared at Cordell with sadness. She was broken. He broke her. She tried to stop herself from crying, but the more she stood there, waiting for him to speak, the clearer it was to her that he didn’t care. He didn’t love her.

“ANSWER ME, CORDELL!!!!”

Cordell slowly blinked at her and then he started smirking. SMIRKING?! Fae was taken aback. She didn’t even know how to react to that. What kind of sick individual do you have to be to stand there and find this situation amusing?

“…what is wrong with you?” Fae questioned with a tremble in her voice.

Cordell turned his gaze towards the ceiling and released a slow, even breath. Fae waited, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

“You wanna know why I was so drawn to you, Fae?”

Fae squinted her eyes at Cordell with confusion.

“…it’s because I could see that you were broken. I could see the pain. I could see that you craved love and affection. No matter how many times your heart had been broken, you still loved hard. An easy girl. Easy to manipulate. To control. To trick. That’s what I craved. And guess what? That’s exactly what I needed to secure what I really wanted from you…”

A hand covered Fae’s mouth and she scanned Cordell’s face, in full disbelief of what he was saying to her right now. It was so disheartening and cruel. She was stunned to silence even though she wanted to break down and cry.

“You see, I’d just gotten out of prison before I met you. I had no place to go…to start fresh…to make a new living for myself. Just like the other bitches before you, I played my part and used my skills to weasel my way in. As soon as I found out about all that money you were sittin’ on…fuck…I knew I hit the jackpot.”

Fae couldn’t believe her ears. She lowered her gaze and scanned the floor. She’d recently moved her paperwork that had all of her information regarding the money she’d gotten from her mother’s death. It was a lot of money. Fae hadn’t thought about it much lately because she planned to use that money to purchase a home soon. A beautiful home in upstate New York. Now, she wondered if Cordell had been planning to stealing from her all this time.

“And now, I need that back, Faedra.”

Cordell stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to reveal where she’d put them.

“…Do you even work as a teacher?”

Cordell narrowed his eyes at her.

“No.” Cordell replied nonchalantly.

“So, what was all that shit about seeing Miss. Rio at school?!”

Cordell shook his head and chuckled with annoyance.

“I go to the school during her lunch break and fuck her, Fae.”

Fae was numb to it all now.

“Wow…wow…”

She placed her hands on her hips and tried to fathom why she ended up in this situation.

“I know it’s a lot to take in right now….but I need that bank information.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me for it?” Fae mocked.

Cordell tilted his head and stared at her unblinking. Fae stared at him with a mixture of shock and fear.

“Believe it or not, Miss. Rio is in on it. The other chick? She had bank too until I cleaned her out. Miss. Rio and I have an understanding where no matter how pissed off we are with each other, we’ll always get back together. It’s been that way for years. Anyway, I played my part to get what I wanted.”

“Wow…Congratulations, Cordell. You really fooled me. Too bad I fooled you too.”

Cordell gave Fae a confused look.

“You wanna know what I’ve been up to these past few days? Closer than you think. Right next door actually.”

Cordell’s entire demeanor switched to anger.

“That’s right, I’ve been fucking the neighbor.”

Cordell balled his fists up and his nostrils flared. He was becoming even more aggressive. Fae folded her arms and smirked at him.

“It was good too. The first time. So good I ain’t never have dick like that before in my life. He’s big, he’s attentive, he knows how to work my body, he spoils me, he adores me, Deuce loves him. He fucked me so good in our bed when you were gone this past weekend…mmm…all over the bed. In the shower…on the sink…”

Cordell’s eye twitched. He was ready to snap. Fae knew she was pushing her luck, but one thing about Cordell, he hated Erik. He knew deep down that Erik is more of man than he ever was. He was afraid of Erik. Afraid of what he was capable of. Not only did Fae feel his big dick energy the moment she laid eyes on him, Cordell did too. Erik stole the one thing Cordell thought he could control forever. That struck a nerve.

“I can still feel him inside of me right now…raw…thick…long…”

Cordell took a step towards Fae.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it? Knowing that another man makes me cum with his mouth and his dick? Treats me with respect? A man I barely knew? Stings, doesn’t it? I hope it does. Because that’s how I felt. You’re right, I do love hard. I did allow myself to be mistreated more than once. Guess what? I took back my power! And it felt soooo good.”

Fae’s tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook with rage. She felt empowered.

“Damn,” Cordell shook his head with disgust, “Just desperate, huh? You think that’s a flex? You offered up the pussy to a random nigga you barely know just to get your lick back? That’s some wild shit…”

Cordell broke out into a fit of laughter. He doubled over and laughed. Fae simply stared at him. She knew he would deflect and turn it against her. Didn’t matter, she still won. She could see past it all. His ego was bruised.

“Now, since you got that off your chest, back to the main issue,” Cordell started walking towards Fae, “Where…is…the…bank information, Faedra?”

Fae backed away and almost tripped over a dresser drawer. She caught herself against the wall and eased towards the bedroom door.

“Don’t act scared now, Fae. You were so bold not too long ago.”

“I’m not giving you the information, Cordell.” Fae said.

“Hm, you will. Even if I have to choke it out of you.”

Fae took off running and Cordell was right on her heels. He pushed her and she fell to the floor in the hallway. Deuce started clawing at the door and aggressively barking. Fae lifted herself by her arms and looked up at Cordell. He grabbed her by her hair and forced her to look at him. Fae gasped, trying to unravel Cordell’s hand from her braids.

“It’s okay. You must want me to take it by force, huh? I got just the trick…”

Reaching behind him, Cordell revealed a Glock 17. He aimed it at Fae’s sternum and pressed the barrel firmly into her chest. Fae squeezed her eyes shut and her tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Now, I’m not gonna kill you here. I’m taking you with me. On your feet, NOW.”

He yanked her by the hair to control her movements and it felt as if he ripped her hair from her scalp. Fae whimpered in pain and looked up at Cordell with a petrified gaze. He trailed the barrel of the Glock 17 up the side of her neck and then stuck it deep into the flesh of her cheek.

“Get your shit, we’re going for a ride, baby girl.”

With one forceful shove, Fae stumbled further down the hallway, afraid to look back at the gun aimed at her head, ready to fire.

Ding

The elevator doors separated and Erik didn’t wait for them to fully open before he rushed out and into the hallway of the thirteenth floor. He jogged up to Fae’s apartment door and banged.

“Fae?!”

He couldn’t use his cell phone because it had blacked out. His other phone is in his apartment, but all he cared about at the moment was whether or not she was safe.

Erik tried that door knob and was shocked to find it opened. Shocked and anxious. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking from left to right.

“FAEDRA!!!”

Erik shut the apartment door and sprinted towards her bedroom. Deuce’s barking stilled his footsteps and he opened the door for him to come out of the guest bedroom. Deuce leaped up at him, continuously barking as if he had something important to communicate to Erik.

Erik’s heart practically rattled within his rib cage when he followed Deuce in the direction of Fae’s room. Erik’s thick finger pushed the door back and as it creaked open, his eyes grew wide and his lips parted. It was a disaster.

Sean had been here. He was looking for something and Fae showed up at the wrong time. He’d taken her. Erik combed through the room to find anything that stood out at him. Most of the papers chaotically covering the floor were important documents like bills and work information. Erik made his way back out towards the living room, scooping up Deuce and leaving the apartment.

Out in the hall, Erik quickly opened his door and rushed inside, placing Deuce on the floor and locking his door. He knew no one had been to his apartment? Because he would have seen them coming and going. He couldn’t check the surveillance on his broken phone so he entered his room and retrieved his work phone.

Erik had placed a tracker on Fae’s phone the night she’d discovered Sean AKA Cordell had been cheating on her. It was the best way to keep tabs on her while he was away. Using his private tracking app, Erik was able to see where she was. Sean was on his way to the Bronx. Erik was never able to track Sean’s phone. The man may be a coward, but he was a great criminal. He was good at what he did. Swindle, rob, and murder.

Erik made his way towards the foot of his bed and after placing his cell phone within his back pocket, he used both of his hands to lift his mattress. Underneath was a gun safe filled with all types of weapons. Erik tucked a few hand guns in his waistband, two blades in his socks, extended clips, and a few silencer attachments

Lastly, he retrieved a full face, tactical mask in all black. Diesel tried to gain his attention, and Erik didn’t want to leave Deuce and him alone, but he had to save Fae or Sean was going to kill her. Rushing into his office, he opened his closet door and grabbed a vest and a pair of biker gloves. Before Erik left the apartment, he made sure there was enough food for the boys and then he was out the door.

Erik was out of that garage and onto the street. He used his all black sport bike to get their faster. The sun was setting and the longer it took to get there, it would be too late. Erik would never forgive himself. He refused to let anything happen to her. Bluetooth connection from the bike allowed him to follow their trail. Her sensor paused on Edson Avenue. Erik was fifteen minutes away.

Fae was led towards a beautifully maintained residence, a place where comfort meets convenience in the vibrant neighborhood of the Bronx. The large fenced-in private yard is adorned with men who didn’t look like the type to mess around with. One look past the weed smoke, you could sense the evil within.

She was taken around the side of the home to a set of concrete steps that led down towards a door. Cordell forced Fae to walk down the steps and she took her time so she wouldn’t fall. When they finally reached the bottom, Cordell banged twice and five seconds later, the door swung open and Fae locked eyes with Miss. Rio.

“La trajiste aquí, Sean?!” Miss. Rio argued. Rolling her eyes at Fae.

“Cálmate, I had to, Alejandra.”

She kissed her teeth and stepped to the side. Cordell entered the basement and Alejandra shut the door.

“Did you find it?” She questioned impatiently.

“No. I combed that apartment and ain’t find shit.”

“After playing house all this time you still don’t know where it is?!”

Fae cut her eyes at Alejandra and mugged her. She had a gun pointed at her back, there was no use in fighting her way out of there.

“She moved shit around, baby!” Cordell fired back.

“We had a plan! Our plan was to take that money and get out of New York! What now? No money, no leaving. I thought we were going to give Gabby a better life?”

Who’s Gabby?

“We will, we will. I promise. I’m not going anywhere, we’re back together as a family. Stop stressing.”

“estúpido,” Alejandra rolled her eyes, “you fucked her because I gave you permission!”

“Alejandra, I’m not getting into this argument with you right now. Listen, baby, while you stand there yelling at me, we’re wasting time. Get the chair and the rope for me.”

Alejandra turned on her heels, jet black hair swaying behind her as she walked away to get the chair and rope Cordell requested. Fae was beyond dumbfounded. Who the hell is Sean and who the hell is Gabby?! Alejandra appeared and with an aggravated look on her face she sat the folding chair down and presented red rope for Cordell to take.

Fae was reminded of the gun aimed at her spine when Cordell aggressively shoved her with it. She winced, walking over to the chair while Alejandra forced her to take a seat with her hands on Fae’s shoulders pushing downward. Fae took that opportunity to raise her leg and put her foot in her back so hard Alejandra fell face first on the floor of the unfinished basement.

“You BITCH!”

Fae didn’t see it coming. She wasn’t prepared for Cordell’s assault.

WHACK!

A hard, crisp, head-hurting, back-handed slap to Fae’s face caused her bottom lip to split open and bleed. Hot tears flooded her vision and she bowed her head, stunned and embarrassed.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” Fae shouted.

“YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED HER FOR WHAT SHE DID!”

Alejandra wrapped her small first around Fae’s hair and yanked. Fae looked her in the eyes with a rage beyond words. Alejandra smirked with her glossy lips before spitting in Fae’s face. Fae squeezed her eyes shut to avoid it from getting in her eyes.

“perra estúpida…estás muerta perra…”

Fae wipes her face free of tears and spit and she used her tongue to lick up the blood. Cordell pressed the barrel of the gun into Fae’s temple.

“I need you to give me your information so I can get the money myself. I want you to write out a check for the full amount and take it from there. Do you understand?”

“…Yes.” Fae responded.

“That’s all you had to do, baby. I wouldn’t have put my hands on you if you weren’t being so fucking difficult.”

Cordell disappeared behind Fae and he tossed Alejandra his gun so she could keep it locked on Fae. Cordell wrapped Fae to the hard, metal chair tightly.

“We’ll keep you here for the night. First thing tomorrow morning, we’re heading to the bank.”

Fae watched as Cordell strolled over to Alejandra. He gripped her chin delicately and used his thumb to caress it. They closed the space between them and kissed passionately, like lovers would. It was just a reminder that he never loved her. It was all a game to him.

“Who’s Sean and Gabby, Cordell?” Fae questioned with a shaky voice.

Cordell slowly turned his head to look at her.

“…I guess I owe you that much. Gonna be dead within the next twenty four hours anyway…”

He leaned his back against a wall and folded his hands over his crotch.

“…My real name is Sean. Cordell is a stolen identity from a cell mate of mine some years ago. I decided to make a new life for myself since I was on the run from other shit that went down…anyway, I got in with his family. They accepted me without hesitation, because Cordell hadn’t been in their life since he was three. I knew that I needed money, so I did what I do best. I found you, did my best impression of the perfect man, and finally I get to take what I’ve worked so hard for…”

Fae listened, hanging on to every word. She was dealing with a real criminal mastermind. The worst kind of individual.

“Alejandra and I go way back,” Cordell laughed and Alejandra blushes, “She’s been my down-bitch since I could remember…yeah…I met her in ‘08 through her brother which is a partner of mine. Derrick and I used to get into some shit back in the day. We reunited when I got out of prison and we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other…she got pregnant with a beautiful baby girl, and it made me want to work harder to get us a better life. We plan to get away to Mexico hopefully.”

“Wait…you have a daughter?” Fae was stunned.

“…All those times I went to work? I was actually spending quality time with Gabriella. She’s three, almost four. Full of life, funny, smart. The best thing to ever happen to me…”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. A secret child? A life of crime? An ex-con? On the run?

What the fuck?

“Story time is over, papi. She knows too much already.” Alejandra said.

“When the lady speaks, you listen.”

Cordell wrapped his arms around Alejandra’s waist and stared longingly into her eyes. Fae wanted to vomit.

“Make sure Pedro and his guys keep an eye on her. You know what I want, right?”

Cordell smacked Alejandra on the butt through her jeans.

“Está bien, papi.”

With a bite of her lip, Alejandra peeled away and towards the basement door leading to outside. She shouted at the men standing in front of the house. Two of them descended the stairs into the basement. They stared at Fae with amusement. Sinister smirks and dark chuckles.

“You know what to do if she tries anything. Slap her around.”

Cordell and Alejandra leave Fae alone with the two Latino men.

4403 Edson Avenue.

The night sky and flickering street lights made Erik blend in. He parked his bike a few homes down and slipped on his tactical mask. Erik knew a little about the neighborhood. It was a community full of Latin Kings. One of the biggest Hispanic gangs in the U.S with a power base built on massive amounts of drug trafficking and a reputation for violence. So much power that the law couldn’t even control them.

Derrick Rio is a member of the Latin Kings and Sean’s partner in crime. Alejandra Rio is a wolf in sheep clothing. She’s a friendly teacher by day, and a drug dealer by night. Erik had known about Sean and Rio for a while now. However, he doesn’t know what their plan is with Fae. Why hold her hostage? Why not just go on the run again?

As Erik stealthily made his way towards the house, he couldn’t help but blame himself. Fae wouldn’t have been kidnapped if he killed Sean when he had the chance. He brushed this job off as a side hustle. If he’d known from the beginning that it was much bigger than he initially thought, he would have handled it before the ICA intervened. He called himself trying to be multiple steps ahead. Turns out he was wrong. He’s never wrong.

Outside of the single family home, Hispanic men littered the front yard smoking weed and goofing around. Erik assumed this house was Mis Rio’s. His assumption was correct when the lady herself appeared from the side of the house.

“Oye, ¿podéis ustedes dos vigilarla hasta que regresemos?”

She asked if two of the men could keep an eye on Fae. That meant that Erik didn’t need to go on a search for her. She was in the basement. Two men separated from three others and headed towards the side of the home. Erik crouched down and moved along the side of a black Chevrolet Tahoe. He could smell their weed and his eyes searched to see if there was a way he could get around them and do a sneak attack.

Two mean were leaning against an all black Honda Civic while the other was pacing back and forth. As far as physical appearances goes, they didn’t appear to be a threat. All three of them looked between the ages of eighteen and twenty five. Erik guessed that they didn’t have a say in whether or not they would join the Latin Kings. If your friends and family are affiliated, then it’s destined for you to be.

Erik got down on one knee and grasped the handle of his B&T SS9 pistol and plucked a silencer out of his front vest pocket to screw on. With a full magazine, Erik took a second to position his pistol and then he shot up from behind the car so fast they didn’t see it coming.

The muzzle blasted off followed by a reduced pop similar to the sound of a puff of air. The first two young men slumped backwards against the car and the last man was two seconds two late trying to grab a hold of his gun before Erik put a bullet in his head.

Erik made his way over to them to make sure he’d finished the job and after close inspection, all three of them experienced instant death. Erik moved as quickly as he could and he dragged their bodies one-by-one towards the yard of the house, stacking them next to a trash can. Now that he had that taken care of, Erik jogged over towards the stairs leading down into the basement.

There is a short, black curtain concealing the window within the door. He was able to get a tiny peek inside of the basement and he could see two men guarding and watching Fae like a hawk. Straining his neck, Erik could only see Fae’s lower half sitting in a folding chair and restrained with red rope. The best option was to draw one of them out. Erik knocked on the door with two quick rasps before speeding up the short concrete stairs and hiding.

Like clock work, a short, beefy, latino male with buzz cut hair opened the side door and stepped out. Erik tightened the grip on his pistol when he started to climb the stairs. His shadow could be seen coming closer so Erik turned fully to face him. With quick precision, Erik raised his gun, and as soon as his feet touched the top step, Erik gave him a head shot to the temple. With all his strength, he caught him before he hit the ground hard. He slowly lowered him to the steps.

Now, he descends the stairs. He didn’t even waste time. Erik appeared within the doorway and the other guy—slicked back stringy hair, tattoos all over his face and arms—did a double take and stood up. He raised up on Erik and grabbed his hand gun from the front of his jeans. Erik was faster; swifter. He snatched his gun and used his pistol with the silencer to kill him.

He hit the floor with a hard crash. Fae could be heard trying to catch her barely audible breath. Erik turned his relieved eyes onto Fae and he quickly revealed himself so she wouldn’t think he was trying to harm her. The way her face transformed in front of him almost made him emotional.

Fae looked as if she’d seen a guardian angel. Her eyes lit up like sparklers in the summer and her lips spread into a slight smile while tears streamed down her cheeks. As Erik approached her, Fae continued to cry, only this time she was breaking down. As Erik got closer, he could see a blue-black bruise on the side of her face and her lower lip was swollen and bleeding.

She looked as if she wanted to shout his name. Erik watched her writhe and cry, too anxious to wrap her arms around him. Erik worked fast and after a final knot the rope fell from her body. Speedily, Fae shot up from the fold chair and turned, embracing Erik with a hug similar to a boa constrictor. Erik rubbed her back and with one gloved hand he cupped the back of her head, leaning in to plant a few kisses to her forehead.

“Thank you…thank you…thank you…”

Fae wouldn’t let him go. She was cutting off his circulation.

“It’s okay…I’m here now…you’re safe…no one’s gonna hurt you any more…it’s okay, Fae. It’s okay…”

He pried her arms from around him and stared down at her.

“We gotta go. The longer we stick around, the more dangerous this shit becomes…”

Erik gripped Fae’s much smaller hand and they both made their way towards the stairs leading up. Erik halted his steps and turned his eyes onto Fae with intensity.

“You have to stay back at all times, do you understand? I refuse to let you die.”

“Okay,” Fae swallowed spit, “What about Sean and Alejandra?”

Erik looked at her for a second before speaking. So, he told her his real name?

“I’m going to kill them.” Erik replied.

Fae nodded her head and let out a sigh of relief.

“Listen to me, stay right here. I’ll come back for you.”

Erik kissed Fae’s forehead one more time, put his mask back on, and made his way up the steps.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

The music continued to blast and all eyes turned towards Erik materializing from the basement. In unison, they all stood to their seat, guns raised and aimed at him. Erik put both of his hands up and slowly backed away towards the door. The closer he went, his eyes scanned the room and one of the thugs closest to him had an AK47 pointed at Erik. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of him.

“NO TE MUEVES!”

Derrick Rio marched out from the kitchen. Erik locked eyes with him. He’s a pretty boi with slicked back wavy hair, earrings in his ears, and swagger. Teardrop tattoos on both sides proved that he was a killer. The scar on his right cheek let Erik know that his face had been sliced open. Nothing scary to Erik. Just a wanna be gangsta. He’d killed plenty of those types.

“Do you know who you’re fucking with?”

Erik remained silent.

Derrick squinted his eyes, “Can’t speak, brother? Hard of hearing?”

“HABLAR!!”

The AK47 almost touched Erik’s cheek. Erik finally parted his lips to speak.

“…quita esa arma de mi cara antes de que te haga.”

The man laughed in Erik’s face.

“KILL HIM, ACE—”

Erik did a move similar to Denzel in The Equalizer and now he had possession of the AK47. His finger didn’t hesitate to fire off rounds in Ace’s ugly face. Erik dropped behind a couch and it was guns blazing. Erik would appear from behind the couch and fire off rounds into anybody he had his eyes on. He didn’t miss. He was better at this. In the middle of it all, Sean and Alejandra were at the top of the steps, no intentions on going down stairs. They didn’t know what was happening or who the masked man was.

Bullets flying, holes in the walls, shattered glass, ruined furniture. Derrick was the only one left standing. He couldn’t believe one man took out a room full of Latin Kings. Erik walked from behind the couch and made his way over to him. Derrick didn’t know whether to point his gun at Erik and shoot or run for his life.

“Ima get yo’ ass either way, Derrick. Just put the gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Erik said.

Derrick hesitates, but eventually he complied. His pistol dropped to the floor and both of his hands raised and his fingers interlocked behind his head. He tilted his chin up and gave Erik a prideful look.

“I’ve waited for the moment I get the chance to kill off a Rio…”

POP! POP! POP!

Derrick’s body slowly and dramatically slid down the eggshell-white wall, a vertical trail of crimson painting the surface. Derrick’s head dangled to the side and he went limp. Erik peeled his eyes away from his lifeless body and just then, from the stairs, Sean began shooting at Erik. Erik ducked and moved out of the way just in time.

“COME OUT MOTHERFUCKER!!”

“Derrick! Oh my God! NO—”

“STAY BACK ALEJANDRA!”

“MY BROTHER! mi hermano esta muerto! ¡DERRICK!”

Erik looked at Fae from the top of the basement stairs. She was holding onto the railing with a vice grip. Erik extended a hand for her to take and Fae clung to him as Erik pulled. Fae rushed up the stairs and pressed her small frame against Erik’s back. Sean continued to fire off rounds at nothing.

“COME THE FUCK OUT! FACE ME!”

Erik dropped the AK47 to the floor and grabbed another fully loaded pistol with a silencer.

“Get down, Fae.”

Erik walked out and shot back at Sean. Fae crawled out on her hands and knees, staying back while she looked up at Erik putting in that work. If it was any other moment, Fae would have been turned on. Right now, all she wanted to do was get her hands on Alejandra. Sean didn’t stand a chance with Erik.

POW! POW! POW!

POP! POP! POP!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“URRR! UGH!”

Erik got Sean in his shoulder. Sean quickly scurried backwards up the stairs, shoving Alejandra as he went to get her to move. She got to her feet and tried her best to move Sean.

“BITCH! GET BACK AND HIDE!” Sean shouted.

Alejandra dropped him and ran away towards the room they were having sex in. She wasn’t even full dressed. She only had on a pair of panties.

“Shit,” Sean hyperventilates while trying to apply pressure to his wound, “Fuck—”

POP! POP!

Sean fired off his gun and Erik dodged a bullet to the face. Sean got to his feet and stumbled into a vacant room to his right. He pressed his back against the door and tried to catch his breath but each time he breathed in, his lungs were on fire.

Erik was at the bottom of their stairs and Fae came come out of hiding. She creeped over towards the side of the staircase and out of sight. One look at her beautiful face, Erik wordlessly reminded her that everything was going to be alright.

“STOP HIDING, SEAN! WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT TOUGH GUY SHIT?” Erik yelled up the stairs.

“FUCK YOU, NIGGA!” Sean replied with a shout.

“YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON FAE! YOU COWARD ASS NIGGA! I SHOULD’VE KILLED YOU A LONG TIME AGO!!”

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO QUESTION ME?!”

Sean peeked his head out of the room and his eyes widened and bulged. Erik had taken off his tactical mask.

“You…” Sean spoke with astonishment.

“WHAT’S UP, NEIGHBOR?!”

POP! POP!

Cordell moved out of the way and two holes formed in the door. Erik took two steps at a time and Sean jumped out at him, swinging a bat and hitting Erik in his ribs. Erik couldn’t feel the impact too much since he wore a vest. Snatching off his gloves, Erik gave Sean a mean uppercut in his stomach and then a jab to his face, clipping him in the jaw. Sean stumbled backwards, blood gushing from his mouth.

“THAT’S FOR PUTTING YOUR HANDS ON FAE!”

Fae cautiously climbed the stairs. She remained a safe distance away while Sean and Erik tussled.

“GET THE FUCK UP!” Erik barked out with a sonorous voice and spit flying, “NOW!”

Sean would try to stand on his two feet and Erik would knock him back down again with his fist colliding with his jaw. Erik released a menacing chuckle with his fists covered in blood.

Alejandra dashed out of the room and charged at Erik. She started windmilling him and Erik grabbed her frail arms and shoved her ass back. That was Fae’s moment.

“ALEJANDRA!”

Brown eyes connected and Alejandra tried to escape but Fae grabbed her by the ankle and she fell to the floor in the hallway. Fae clawed her way up towards Alejandra’s face and she wrapped her fist in her hair and yanked so hard a chunk of her hair ripped out.

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Alejandra screamed.

“Baby!” Sean shouted.

Erik put Sean in a head lock. Sean struggled, his left fingers grabbing a vase from a small table and smashing it over Erik’s head. Erik ate that shit like he had a skull made from steel. He picked Sean up and like Bane, he put his knee in his spine and dropped him to the floor.

“SEAN!” Alejandra cried out.

Alejandra punched Fae in the face and kicked her off before racing down the hall and back to the room. Inside, she found a gun and turned on her heels. Fae moved out of the way and Alejandra fired off the gun into the hall. Erik took this opportunity to use Sean as a shield. He picked him up by the back of his neck.

The bullets entered his torso and his body shook from side to side. Erik had Sean by the neck and he brought his lips to his ear to give him one last word before he fell into eternal slumber.

“That fake LV bag you gifted Fae? That shit was a chew toy for our boys.”

Erik let out a dark chuckle and then dropped Sean to the floor. He could see Sean crawling and Erik cocked his head back and scrunched his face up in a disgusted manner.

“Nigga, you still moving?”

POP!

Fae was paralyzed. To witness her ex being murdered in front of her felt unreal. She turned away so she wouldn’t look into his dead eyes.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!”

Alejandra shot at Erik and he caught a bullet in the chest. Fae gasped, ready to come to his aid, but Erik’s vest is bullet proof.

Click click click

She was out of bullets.

Fae ran so fast towards her Erik didn’t have time to do it himself. She tackled Alejandra to the floor in the room and Erik jogged over, watching them tussle. He went to grab Alejandra by her arm but Fae pushed him back.

“No! No Erik! Let me handle her!”

She drew her fist back and jabbed Alejandra in the face.

“She spit on me!”

Erik furrowed his brows and looked down at Alejandra like she was the scum of the earth.

“That’s some nasty shit.” He said with a hushed tone.

Fae climbed on top of Alejandra and wrapped her fists around her neck. She squeezed and squeezed, Alejandra turning purple in the face.

“AYE!”

Erik had his pistol in his grip fast and turned to shoot down the hallway. More thugs came to the rescue. The entire neighborhood was full of Latin Kings. A neighbor probably put word out that they were in trouble.

Alejandra used Fae’s hair for leverage and flipped them over so that Fae was on her back. She stood and dragged Fae by the hair towards the bathroom where she lifted the toilet seat with her foot, preparing to water board her. Fae saw what she was attempting to do, so she used her legs muscles to stand and she had Alejandra by the hair again, twisting her neck.

“GET OFF ME!” Alejandra screamed like a banshee.

“YOU GOT MY HAIR, BITCH!” Fae yelled.

Alejandra tugged and Fae tugged harder. They were out of breath, muscles fatigued, and hearts racing.

“LET ME GO, STUPID BITCHHHHH!!!!!!!” Alejandra screeched.

POP! POP! POP!

POW! POW!

Erik was holding it down at the top of the stairs. They just wouldn’t stop coming. At first, he was shocked that the police hadn’t shown up, but then he remembered the power that the Latin Kings had, and that most of the police were on their payroll.

Back in the bathroom, Fae was finally able to get Alejandra off of her hair. She picked up a rat tail comb with a metal tip and stabbed Alejandra in the thigh. She let her go and leaped back, pulling the comb out, blood spraying out of the small puncture. They were both pumped full of adrenaline that any pain they felt didn’t register in their minds.

B-cup titties swaying, Alejandra lunged at Fae and Fae stepped out of the way, watching her trip over the toilet. She got behind her and smushed her face along the rim of the toilet seat.

“AHHHHHHH!!!!” Alejandra shouted.

Water covered the floor and Fae slipped.

“COME HERE!”

Alejandra grabbed Fae by the ankle and Fae kicked her in the face. Fae fell back against the wall and pushed up on her feet. Before Alejandra could attack Fae again, Fae pushed her so hard, her head hit the mirror and put a crack in it. Alejandra fell to the ground and Fae could see a laceration on her scalp and blood.

“FAE!”

Erik returned to the room, face sweaty and locs wild in his face. You couldn’t tell from his dark clothing that he had blood there. Fae’s knees buckled and Erik caught her. He gripped her face and examined her.

“I gotta get you outta here,” Erik looked down at Alejandra, “I’ll finish her off.”

Erik didn’t hesitate when he aimed his gun for the back of her head and pulled the trigger. Blood pooled out of her head and onto the tile floor.

Erik grabbed Fae’s hand and they ran so fast down the hall and steps. They decided to leave through the basement. Fae collected her things and Erik made sure he didn’t leave any of his guns behind. They left the home in just enough time, taking the back way and down an alley. Just then, like a scene from a movie, the entire home exploded. Fae had never seen anything like it.

“How—”

“Let’s go, Fae.” Erik urged.

They ran two blocks until Erik could spot his sport bike. Putting his mask back on, Erik worked quickly to take off his vest. He had a hoodie on underneath that he slipped over Fae’s head.

Fae’s tired eyes scanned his body covered in a fitted black beater. Erik put the vest back on and hopped onto the bike. With his strength, he wrapped an arm around Fae’s slim waist and placed her on the bike behind him. He revved it up and Fae wrapped her arms securely around him. Hood up, Erik zoomed off down the street. When he finally made it off of the block and onto the busy rode, he could see NYPD, Paramedics, and two Fire trucks.

Even as the bike slowed down to a stop, Fae didn’t take her cheek off of Erik’s back. She opened her eyes and looked around, noticing that they weren’t back at the apartment. They were parked outside of a warehouse in Staten Island. They’d been riding for an hour and a half. Time was lost to her, all she kept thinking about was the nights events. Erik climbed off of the bike and turned towards Fae.

Fae looked up at him as he removed his mask.

The tears began to pour. She will be forever grateful that Erik rescued her. He removed his gloves and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs smeared away her tears.

Fae parted her dry lips to speak, “He was trying to steal the money I’d gotten from my mother’s death.”

“That explains why your room looked the way it did. How much money did you get?”

“About 100k…”

Erik strokes her cheek.

“I moved the information to a safe that I have hidden in my guest bedroom. That’s where I keep all of my personal documents.”

“Smart,” Erik smirked at her, “I’m just happy to be looking at you right now. I thought I was too late…”

“How did you know where to find me?” Fae questioned with a trembling voice.

Erik hesitated speaking and Fae noticed. She searched his eyes and then Erik dropped his gaze to the dirt.

“Fae…I haven’t been honest with you.”

Fae tilted her head but remained silent. Exhaling, Erik took both of her hands in his and squeezed.

“…I’m not a bodyguard.”

Fae nodded her head slowly her eyes lowering to their hands.

“I’m a professional Hitman.”

Fae’s head lifted to look at him again.

“I’ve been assigned to a job to track down Sean and kill him. He has an extensive history of murder and scamming from all across the U.S. I’ve been assigned to the job for five months…”

Fae stared at Erik with an intense gaze.

“I have something to show you.”

Erik helped her off of the bike and they headed towards the warehouse.

“As a Hitman, we have these specific safeguards implemented in different states. In New York, there’s three. I’m stationed here until I decide to relocate.”

Fae allowed Erik to lead her towards a door on the side of the warehouse. Erik used his thumb against a fingerprint identifier and it ignited green. The door clicked open and Erik walked inside. The door shut on its own behind Fae and as if the warehouse was controlled by some artificial intelligence, everything came to life.

She didn’t know which area to take in first. On one end of the warehouse, there were parked cars and bikes. On another side there was an area for combat. In the middle there is a work station with many computers and a giant TV screen suspended from the ceiling. Fae’s eyes fell on a wall covered in weapons from guns, to knives. Finally, she spotted another wall with a spotlight. This wall was covered with a diagram of photos thumbtacked together.

Erik made his way over to that specific wall with Fae in tow. As they inched closer, Fae recognized something that caused her to pull her hand away from Erik’s. She walked around him and over towards that wall. Fae’s footsteps paused right before the giant billboard and she looked back at Erik with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“Erik…why am I up here?”

Fae’s eyes scanned the billboard. The covert photography of her made her feel uneasy. There were photos of her leaving work, her apartment, New Jersey, walking Deuce, out with friends, on dates with Sean. Any and everything she could be doing. There were even photos of her through her apartment windows from a distance.

“Wha–wha—I–I don’t—I don’t understand. I—”

Fae wrinkled her nose and her mouth fell open. She blinked her eyes rapidly, as if trying to make sense of what she was staring at. Erik stood in front of her, a guilty expression on his face.

“Fae…I was given the job to Kill Sean—”

“You told me that already.” Fae spoke.

“…So, with that job came rules. Rules that can’t be broken. Not only was Sean a target…you were too. I had orders to assassinate you and him.”

Fae’s lower lip quivered.

“All this time? So what? You moved in next door so you could keep tabs on me? You showed up and tricked me into having sex with you—”

“NO.” Erik cut Fae off.

“So why did you get close to me?! Why did you even do that knowing the risk?!!”

Erik shrugged, unable to find the right words. He looked towards the ceiling, hands in his pockets.

“I just…Fae I fell for you.”

Fae narrowed her eyes at him and tightened her jaw.

“This may sound crazy, but all that time I spent following you, watching you, learning everything about you…I started catching feelings—”

“STOP.”

Fae put her hands up and shut her eyes.

“This is crazy,” She ran a hand over her frizzy hair, “So you fucked me and sent me back to a psycho when you could have told me the truth?! What is wrong with you???!!!!”

“I COULDN’T TELL YOU THE TRUTH!” Erik shouted.

“”WHY? WHY NOT?” Fae yelled back.

Erik put his hands together, leaning in with his face inches away.

“WHY NOT, ERIK?”

“Fae, please. I fucked up, I know that, okay? But you gotta understand me when I say this…what I do, and the people I work for…they don’t play about shit like this. They will interfere and fuck shit up. The ONLY REASON why shit hit the fan, is because of my partner. I have to update her on everything that’s going on. She put a bug in their ear, making me look bad. SHE WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU.”

Fae flinched when Erik’s tone went dark as his tone elevated. He was pissed. Locs in his face, slugs peeking through and muscles flexed.

“AND I WOULD HAVE KILLED HER!!!!…okay?” Erik lowered his voice to a soft timbre and tucked his chin, looking at fae through his lashes with a penetrating gaze and flared nostrils, “I fucked up because I caught feelings. It was deeper than a hit, baby. I fell in love with you. I couldn’t be cold-blooded Killmonger. All eyes were on me 24/7. If I would have said one thing to you, I could have found you dead in your apartment.”

His chest rose and fell with deep breaths. Fae hugged herself and her vision blurred with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Erik shook his head, “I truly am, baby. I know I fucked up. Sean would have had fhe entire Latin Kings coming after you if he so much as caught a whiff of anything. Alejandra and Derrick are a part of the Latin Kings. She was in your apartment. They knew where you worked, where you lived…Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?!”

Fae nibbled on her bottom lip to try and calm her hiccuping from crying. She nodded her head rapidly in understanding.

“You have every right to hate me right now. I wish I could go back and fix this. I wish I could, baby. I wish you never met that fucking nigga…”

Erik’s hands pulled Fae into his body. She looked up at him and her hands were pressed against his chest.

“…I wish you didn’t have to go through what you went through tonight…”

Erik’s body shook with rage.

“I knew where you were tonight because I put a tracker on your cell phone that night after the bar. I’m glad I did. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to find you…”

Fae shifted from one foot to the other. She was nervous. Erik lifted her chin so she could look at him.

“I want to be honest with you. I want…”

Erik’s eyes went from her lips to her eyes.

“I want what you want. Even if that means you want nothing to do with me.”

Fae lowered her head and stared at her hands against his chest. She had a migraine, her face hurt, her body hurt, her hair was a mess, her ex was a murderer and used her for her money, Erik is a Hitman. It was all too much. Her head was ready to explode. And now, she’s finding out that she was supposed to be dead too? Not only did Sean want to kill her, so did the people that Erik worked for. But wait did he just say—

“Fae?”

Erik’s voice snapped her out of her daze. She slowly lifted her head to look at him.

“You love me?” Fae asked.

“…Yes.”

It all made sense to her now.

“Was that why you left my apartment that night? You were going to tell me that you loved me, weren’t you?…”

Erik smirked, “Yeah, I was.”

Fae chuckles as tears rolled down her cheeks, “You should have.”

She broke down crying and Erik wrapped his arms around her and hugged her right.

“This is a lot,” Fae said with a shaky voice.

“It is. I couldn’t wait to tell you tomorrow. You deserved to know…you been deserved to know.”

“…Wow,” Fae shakes her head, “I can’t believe this is my life…”

She pulled away from Erik so she could look at him.

“Erik, I’ve only known you for such a short while, but when I’m with you…I’m a better version of myself. You bring out this confidence and self worth in me that I never knew I had,” Fae released a shaky breath, “I’ve been so broken so many times,” Her bottom lip trembled, “And you showed me the true meaning of what it’s like to be loved.”

Erik stared at her, a soft smile on his face.

“…You didn’t have to fall for me, you could have just—just done your job and got rid of me. And as much as I don’t like that you kept this a secret, all of it just proves that you cared for me, a girl you barely even knew…you saved my life in so many ways. And I just want you to know, I love you too.”

Fae pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes to control her tears. Erik felt his own eyes sting. He blinked his eyes rapidly to stop himself from crying.

“Fae,” Erik picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, “I told you, you’re special. You’re amazing. I love you...”

She buried her face into his neck and Erik rubbed his hands up and down her spine.

Fae sniffled, “I want to go home…”

Erik couldn’t agree more.

The energy felt different.

The moment she entered his apartment, she felt like it was her home. Her apartment didn’t feel like home anymore. It was tainted with Sean. Everything he touched, his side of the bed, his clothes, his scent. She didn’t want any part of it.

Erik took her bag from her and helped her remove her boots. They silently walked together, Erik guiding her to his room. Diesel and Deuce were excited to see them. In Erik’s room, he shut the door behind him and proceeded to undress Fae. His eyes never left hers as each layer of clothing peeled away from her frame. Erik walked her to his bathroom and sat her down on the toilet while he ran her bath.

Fae watched him take off his vest, beater, boots, and socks. They were both filthy, but Erik was concerned with making sure Fae was clean and comfortable. The bath water ran and Erik poured in epsom salt. He opened his medicine cabinet and grabbed all the first aid items to tend to her injuries. When the water had finished, Erik turned off the tap and he helped Fae into the tub.

He got down on his knees and went to work cleaning her off. He gently washed her off and after each pass of the sponge, he would press his lips into her wet flesh. Fae felt an instant jolt of arousal. She couldn’t control the pleasant tingling between her legs when he washed her there with a rag. She gripped his wrist and they locked eyes. Even with a bruised face and scared lip, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Fae’s hand covered Erik’s and she guided his fingers lower. He got the hint and sat the rag on the edge of the tub. Two thick fingers found her entrance and pushed inside. Fae gasped, Erik muting her noises with his lips. Fae gripped the edge of the tub and fell back so that she could tilt her hips for deeper access.

Erik didn’t take his eyes off of her. Fae pressed her face into his arm and nibbled on his skin. Erik could see her juices and feel how creamy her pussy is for him. Her nipples were rock hard and making Erik’s mouth water.

“Erik…”

She squeezed her thighs together and the water sloshed as her body moved back and forth with her climax. She exhaled an airy breath and her walls convulsed around his fingers. Erik slipped his fingers out and sucked them clean. He let the water out and helped Fae to her feet. Erik grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. Back in the room, he sat her down on his bed and proceeded to rub her body down with a soothing and calming body oil scented with a sweet aroma of vanilla combined with a surprising touch of lemon.

“Killmonger.” Fae spoke.

Erik chuckled while massaging her body with the oil, “That’s my nickname.”

“Why Killmonger? I mean, I know you’re a killer…”

“…I earned the nickname from the amount of kills I racked up. It was so impressive that they had to give me a nickname for it…”

“Okay,” Fae giggled, “I like it…it’s sexy.”

Erik’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind his locs.

“Hmm, really?” His dimples popped out while trying to hide his blush, “I’m glad you think so.”

Fae rolled her eyes, “I mean…it’s fitting…”

“Fitting for what else?” Erik looked down at her while massaging her feet.

“…with the way you kill this pussy—”

“Huh? What was that, Miss Fae? I couldn’t hear you.” Erik teased.

“I said, with the way you kill this pussy…”

Erik bowed his head and laughed. When he finished, He dressed Fae in an old graphic T-shirt of Jimi Hendrix and he excused himself to take a shower. Fae used that opportunity to go see Deuce. The last time she’d seen her dog was before she left for work that morning. Fae walked out barefoot with her frizzy and loose braids up in a bun. Her scalp felt so tender and sore. She found Deuce and Diesel both lying in Erik’s office. Deuce ran up to her as Fae got down on her knees. Up on his hind legs, Fae hugged him and couldn’t help but to cry.

Sean could have killed Deuce. She was so happy that he was safe. She was so happy that she didn’t die and she could come home to her boy. Diesel rubbed his head against her and Fae gave him a hug too. She smiled brightly at both of them and couldn’t help but to giggle. I guess that means Diesel was her dog now too.

Fae stood up and walked around Erik’s office. Her curious eyes moved about the room, taking it all in with a new perspective. Sure, he was in Special Ops and she understood that killing people came with the job, but it felt different knowing that he’s a Hitman. Fae skimmed her fingers over his books when Erik appeared. He was oiled down himself and wearing a pair of all black ball shorts.

“I came to see the boys and I started snooping around. I know, I’m pryjng,” Fae tucked her chin bashfully.

“It’s okay. You’re curious.” Erik said.

“It just seems so…mysterious…”

Erik walked up behind Fae and pressed his lips against her exposed neck.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

That made Fae feel good knowing that. She turned to him and Erik’s lips were on hers. They tongue kissed while their hands roamed all over each other’s bodies. Erik had his hands full of Fae’s ass and he backed out of his office. They walked backwards into his room and Erik slammed the door shut to keep the boys out. With only a single lamp light on, it gave off the perfect vibe.

Erik sat down on the edge of the bed with Fae between his legs. She cupped his face while they continued to kiss. Their heads moved back and forth and their tongues reached crevices that elicited sounds of pleasure. Fae needed him. She didn’t care that her body was sore, she needed him inside of her. Erik did too, his dick was brick hard and tenting the front of his shorts.

Fae broke the kiss and she lifted his T-shirt over her head, naked body the perfect shape in Erik’s eyes with the softest skin that glistened similar to honey. Fae took her place in his lap with her pussy sitting directly over his clothed erection. Erik couldn’t get over how soft and smooth her skin felt beneath his calloused hands.

His lips kissed her neck, her collarbones, and between her breasts. He tilted Fae’s body back and her breasts were pushed out towards his mouth. He sucked each dark brown nipple into his mouth and flicked them greedily with his thick tongue. Fae arched her back and gripped Erik’s shoulders tight when he started humping her from underneath.

“Unh….”

Fae’s moans sounded angelic.

Erik pressed his face between her breasts and grunted. His dick was twitching between her pussy lips.

“Fuck…I need you,” Erik whispered.

“I need you too…”

Fae dug her fingers into Erik’s shorts and they wrapped around his fat dick. She whipped it out and lifted her hips while her hand pointed his tip towards her opening. Erik exhaled a longing breath. She sat down on him fully and Erik bounced her.

“Fuck…fuck…” Erik was staring up at Fae through hooded eyes, “I missed this pussy…”

“Mm!” Fae’s mouth fell open, “Mmm!”

Her moans were driving him crazy.

“Mm! Mm! Unh! Uh! Ooo!”

“You’re a fuckin’ angel, baby,” Erik praises.

He secured one arm around her waist, sliding his hips lower so he could plant his feet on the floor, and he pumped upward while simultaneously bouncing Fae, bringing her down on his dick himself. She had a death grip on Erik’s shoulders. She was so small and limber while Erik’s much larger and more powerful body controlled her movements.

“Ahhhh, ahhhhh…” Erik couldn’t hold back from making his own noises, “That’s it baby…let me do all the work…”

“Oh gosh,” Fae moaned, “Yes!”

“I’m deep and I ain’t leaving, baby,” Erik groaned, “Mhm…too much big dick?”

“No,” Fae said with a whiny voice.

“That’s my good girl…”

She came on his dick and Erik raised his hips to the bed again. He lifted her off of his dick and got down on his knees. He started eating Fae’s pussy while she was standing up. She couldn’t believe it. He hiked her thigh up and proceeded to suck on her pussy while his other hand fisted his dick.

“Shit,” Fae wrapped her fingers around his locs, “Mmm!”

Fae’s leg shook out of control and she fell forward against the bed. Erik’s hand smacked her on the ass and she positioned herself so that she was hanging over the edge of the bed. Erik turned and started eating it from the back. Fae rocked her hips back and forth, feeding her pussy to his plump lips and thick tongue. Erik spread her cheeks as best as he could so he could get every inch of that pretty, pink puss in his mouth. He was sucking that shit off the bone and Fae was losing her sanity.

“Daddy, please don’t stop,” Fae moaned weakly.

He slurped her pussy, put his tongue in that pussy, sucked on that clit, tongued her folds. Fae was drooling into the sheets.

“OH FUCK!”

She bit down on her bottom lip, the pain from her scar mixed with the pleasure of getting her pussy devoured giving her a big orgasm. She convulsed and released into Erik’s waiting, gluttonous mouth.

He sat up and Fae turned her body. Erik was on his feet and with his lustful eyes watching her, he took off his shorts, revealing his fat dick and balls. It was so hard that the veins in his shaft popped out. His tip is covered in pre-cum and dying to be sucked on. Fae arched her back and grabbed his dick. She looked up at him and wrapped her lips around him.

She took her time putting him down her throat. It’s a big boy. Erik’s humming and grunting caused her clit to jump. It was thick enough to make her jaw muscles sore and long enough to trigger her gag reflex.

“There you go…good girl…such a good girl,” Erik tilted his head so he could watch, “Get daddy’s dick in there, baby…”

She started sucking him while tugging on his sack. Erik’s brows furrowed and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. His eye rolled shut and his head went back. All Fae could see was his beautifully-sculpted body and the long swath of his neck.

“Just like that…look at you…mmm, mmm, mmm…”

Erik groaned when Fae focused on slurping his wide tip between her lips. She knew that’s what he liked. He loved it when she did it nice and slow. Her spit rolled down her chin and she looked into his eyes while sucking. That’s what did it.

“Fae…”

She loved it when he said her name.

“Fae…”

Keep saying my name.

“Damn, here it comes—”

Fae swallowed him whole. She tightened her throat and milked him while the tip of her tongue wiggled in his slit. Thick, warm, nut coated her tongue. She slowly released his dick from her mouth and it popped out covered in spit. Erik stuck his tongue down her throat with his fingers around her neck to control the flow. Fae sucked on his bottom lip like a pacifier.

“I’m gon’ fuck you all over this bed,” Erik said with a husky voice barely above a whisper, “And your ass gon’ take it every single time…”

“I need it, big daddy,” Fae whispered seductively.

Erik raised a single brow at her.

“I can handle it,” Fae spoke confidently with a smirk.

Erik picked her up and put her ass on the edge of his dresser.

“You can handle it, huh? Yeah?” Erik plopped his dick down on her pussy and guided his hips so his dick could glide up and down between her fat, outer lips.

“Yes,” Fae moaned.

“Your pussy is wet and gushy, mamas…”

He hooked his arms beneath her knees and with his hips, he thrust forward and his tip slipped between her labia and popped right into that wet pussy. He pressed further inside until he was halfway in before retracting his hips slowly, only to thrust back inside again.

“Fuck,” Fae gasped when Erik twisted her hips, “Mmm!”

She gripped the edge of the dresser with one hand while the other wrapped around Erik’s neck. His crotch and lower abdomen collided with Fae’s inner thighs and it stung so good.

“Daddy, you’re fucking me so good!”

“Mhm…I know it is, look at this dick.”

Fae tried to watch but he was digging her out so good she couldn’t focus.

“Oooo…I know whatchu finna do, pretty mama…daddy making that pussy cum, I know it.”

“I can’t control it, daddy—”

Fae’s pussy pushed Erik’s dick out and she rubbed her clit back and forth, her juices like a fountain.

“So that’s what I gotta do to make that pussy squirt like that?”

Erik crouched down to lick it up. Fae couldn’t control her legs from squirming and shaking. Erik needed to make her do that again. He moved her to the bed and parted Fae’s legs with his hands on the back of her thighs. Erik got up on that bed, dug his toes into the mattress, and started grinding his hips so that his dick could hit her spot. Each time he would thrust, his hips would grind, making his fat dick hit her spot.

“Oooo!” Fae started crying, “I’m gonna squirt again!”

“That’s what I want, give me that shit,” Erik commanded.

“It’s all for you!”

That was music to Erik’s ears. Fae looked up at him and he had his bottom lip between his teeth and a smirk on his face. She was falling apart beneath him and he just fucked her like that with a dimpled smirk and a big dick. He was dangerous.

“My pussy, daddy!”

Fae’s eyes crossed and Erik was pushed out once again. It just kept going. He beat her clit with his tip and she just covered him and the sheets.

“Dayum, you’re my little waterfall for real, fuck. I love it when you make a mess on me…”

“It’s so much, I’m sorry,” Fae shielded her face with her arm to hide her blush.

“Don’t be sorry about what that pussy can do, baby…”

He had his mouth on her pussy again. Fae was growing lightheaded. Erik looked up at her through his lashes and licked his lips.

“You okay?” He questioned.

“Mhm,” Fae replied.

Erik gave her a moment to catch her breath and then he sat up in the middle of the bed. He made a come-hither motion with his fingers and a bite of his lip and Fae crawled to him. She straddled him and Erik lined his dick up with that beautiful pussy again for more. Fae sank down on him fully until her ass was sitting on his balls. Erik dropped his thighs out and leaned back on one hand. He rolled his hips up slowly and fae rolled her hips down on him. Her hands were on his shoulders and she was looking down at him from above. They were locked in a sensual gaze.

“Tell me you love me.” Erik whispered.

“I love you,” Fae whispered back.

“Say it again.”

“I love you…”

Erik hooked his arms beneath her armpits and gripped her shoulders from behind. Fae cupped his face and they kissed passionately. Erik broke the kiss and his tongue licked along Fae’s jaw. He dug his heels into the bed and surprised Fae with sharp upstrokes with his hands planted on the bed. She was squirting again.

“UNH! UNH! UNH!”

It was ball-slapping strokes. Erik lowered his hips back to the bed and his dick slipped out with ease. He shook his locs from his eyes and lifted from the bed.

“C’mere…bring that pussy here.”

Fae took one look at that dick and she whimpered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll l be back in there. Arch that back.”

She did as she was told. Erik nibbled and kissed all over her ass. He put a humb in her butt and his dick deep in her pussy from the back. Fae’s hips bounced off of him causing her cheeks to turn red.

“Go head, cry into the sheets, tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels so good!”

“You taking it, mamas. Just watching you take this dick makes me so hard.”

“Yes, daddy!” Fae moaned.

“Don’t stop taking this dick…don’t stop taking this dick…”

Fae turned her head back and forth, she fisted the sheets, she cried out. Erik would speed up, then slow down. Bring her to the peek, then edge her.

“Can I cum daddy?! Please?! Can I cum, please?!”

“Cum on this dick right fuckin’ now.”

“Unh—ahhh!”

It was creamy and slippery. Erik watched with his bottom lip pouted and gold slugs gleaming. That pussy was hot and tight.

“Daddy, I feel you throbbing inside me!”

“Yeah?” Erik growled, “SHIT—”

“YES! Right there—”

“UGH!”

Erik gripped her waist for leverage and he withdrew his hips. Fae spun around quickly and opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Erik held her gaze through his locs and his mouth formed an ‘O’ while he jerked himself. His cum shot out like a spider’s web. It covered Fae’s face and tongue. Erik couldn’t believe how much it was. Fae cleaned off as much as she could and then Erik left to grab a wet rag.

He returned and cleaned Fae off. They both went to the bathroom and after using the toilet, took a shower together. Fae let Erik fuck her up against the shower wall with her chest pressed against it. She reached behind her to hold onto his thigh while he took that pussy from behind. He slipped out and Fae got down on her knees again to clean him off. They were both satisfied.

When they were done, they both rubbed eachother down with the oil again and stood at his sink to tend to their scars. Fae sat on the sink and Erik took his time tending to her. She did the same for him, it was mostly his knuckles. It was so intimate.

Teeth brushed, Erik put a towel down on the bed to cover Fae’s mess and snuggled together beneath the sheets. Fae rested her head on Erik’s chest with one arm draped across his torso. Erik stared up at the ceiling while playing in her hair.

“I love you, Fae. I mean it.”

Fae sat up and looked up at Erik through her lashes.

“I know you do. I love you too.”

Erik shut his eyes and smirked. Fae caressed his thick lips with her fingertips. Erik caught them between his lips causing Fae to giggle.

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @lisayourworries @bellleame @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @bakarisprxncess @melodicheauxxlovesfood @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @90sisthenew80s @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @angelicniah @queenfaithmarie @soulfulbeauty19 @asweet-serendipity @aijha @novaniskye @princessxotwod @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @palmstreesallday @kokokonako@coolfancyone @soulsparker @d3kstar @richgirlaesthetics @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @beautybyfire @abluesforlyssa @xo-goldengirl @mbakuetshurisprincess @4ftwonder @raysunshine78 @sensitivelegend @sourbabynaee @gotbeefbitch-blog @cool-fancyone @efonteno @akimi-youngblood @badassdoll @shyblackgurl @childishgambinaax @teheeboo @skylahb @gigafaex @readingaddict1290 @circeaphoenix @xsweetdellzx @carewornblackgirl @queengodiva619 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @seyven89 @jamaicanqueenaa

#my recs #erik killmonger #starting from the top---oooo i knew he wanted say ily he's down sooo bad #the plot twists!!!!! there were so many ohmygod #their s*x is so.....#THE DIALOGUE #the way he talks to her>>#🥴🥴#(when he said ily the 1st time and she didnt hear AHHHH)#diana's bitch ass...erik shouldve **** *** ***#the dream fae had was so crazy cause thats literally what erik wanted to do sksjsjsj #ngl when seandell went missing i was hoping erik had already taken care of that #and i knew his ass was jobless!!!! smh crazy ass #and dont get me started on ms rio unh unh she was unharmed for far too long #fae's whole confrontation w seandell had me so anxious omg #then the way u write action omg👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 i could never #i was gonna skip it ngl bc i usually cant keep up w how ppl describe fighting n shit but nawwww ur shit is GOODT #i'm so glad they were happy in the end #(and the smut was🔥hehe)#idk if there's gonna be more but tbh i would be happy with this as an ending #so amazing #smut #angst #fluff #violence

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supercutszns · 11 months ago

Note

Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸

fighting chance; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader

synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.

warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3

notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!

You’re not much of a fighter.

That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Unless you’re a child of Ares.

People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.

Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.

There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.

The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.

He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.

He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.

The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.

“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.

“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”

“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.

You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.

He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”

“Confer?”

“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”

A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.

“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”

It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?

“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.

He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”

“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.

You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”

His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.

“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”

It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.

The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.

You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”

You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.

“All good?” He asks gently.

It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”

Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.

“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.

He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.

“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”

Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.

“And you’ve always got our flag.”

You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.

He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.

There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.

Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.

The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.

Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”

“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”

“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.

Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.

“Luke—”

“I’ll find her!”

He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.

He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.

It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.

“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”

The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.

“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.

You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”

“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”

The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.

Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.

You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.

The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.

“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”

Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.

Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.

Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.

The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.

Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.

And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.

“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.

The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.

“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”

“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”

“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.

“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”

“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.

“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”

It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.

The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”

Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”

He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.

Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.

“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”

Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.

The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”

“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”

He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”

You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.

You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”

You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”

“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”

“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”

You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.

Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”

“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”

You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.

“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”

The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.

“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.

“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”

“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”

“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.

You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”

It makes you smile. “So second-best?”

“Tied for first.”

He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.

“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”

“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.

Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.

“Don’t care,” Luke says.

You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”

You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.

You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.

#perrie’s fics #perrie’s requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #charlie bushnell #luke castellan comfort #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic #i kind of hate this i think I’M SORRY #but some parts of it are interesting so oh well #luke castellan you are fucking crazy.

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nebulousmoon3990 · 18 days ago

Text

GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)

III𓂃› SPIDER

Warning: violence, swearing, sensitive topics, bad things, spelling mistakes (English is not my first language) and the reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry), female reader!, I accept criticism, but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!

Hey guys! I'm really sorry it took me so long to post (I was sorting out some things in my life). well, enjoy the chapter!♡

Clark really didn't know what he was getting himself into.

He had expected to come to New York to do a simple interview for the Daily Planet, write the report and spreadsheet right here while eating at a café and if possible bring back some souvenirs for Lois and Jon.

Fighting a supervillain was definitely not in his plans.

It had happened out of nowhere, while he was waiting for the meeting with the businessman, the urgent news on television warning about a monster attacking the city made him leave urgently. He could solve this and finish it in time.

He just didn't know that he wouldn't need to solve it.

While flying, now as Superman, he easily found the villain, it wasn't very difficult to see him in fact. He was the size of a building of at least nine or ten stories, his skin was rocky and hard, made purely of stone. Clark was about to attack the giant when he heard a scream.

Looking through the villain a helicopter was in the way, the pilot tried to maneuver away but they would be enveloped in the confusion. Using his speed, Clark tried to get closer to the helicopter, however it was not enough since it was still far away.

The rocky hand would catch the vehicle before him.

Well, he is not alone.

Before the walking rock caught the propeller and possibly destroyed the vehicle something got attached to the hand and pulled it up, bringing the villain's focus to another place, his distraction was enough for him to catch the helicopter. He noticed as he moved away that what had stopped the giant was... a web? He followed with his gaze the path of the white rope and saw a figure pass quickly on it.

What?

Leaving the helicopter on top of a landing area of a nearby building, he approached the frightened journalists. "Are you hurt?"

The one who answered was the cameraman, who was still breathing heavily, "N-no, Mr. Superman. We're fine-"

"IT'S HER! TYLER FILM, FILM!" The woman's excitement made the man quickly grab his camera. She looked at him and gave a shy smile while holding the microphone, perhaps a little embarrassed by her euphoria. "Oh, Superman, thank you very much. It's just that we never get clear images of her, so you can understand our excitement."

She? She who?

No one needed to answer his question because when he looked at the monster he saw the "she".

A super heroine

Her figure swayed between the giant and the buildings. She wore a suit that covered her entire body, leaving no room to see any of her features. All Clark could see was that she was short, perhaps indicating that she was a teenager.

The monster tried to grab her with its free hand, moving much faster than it had when it was with the helicopter. She, however, brought her webbed wrist towards the giant's face, causing him punched his own face. Swinging away from him, she taunted, her voice echoing off the buildings. "Hey big guy, is that all you know how to do? For someone so tough, you're softer than jelly!"

Hit a nerve, for sure.

"Who is she?" He asked the man who was filming the action with the reporter, even in a situation like that the cameraman looked at the heroine with a glint in his eye, a glint that intrigued Clark.

"Her? She's Spider-Woman."

Spider Woman, he had never heard of this superheroine, but that didn't matter now.The "Spider Woman" swung again on her webs at the stone man's aggression towards her. Superman moved away from the reporters and headed towards the brute. He was quick to bump his fist with the giant's, preventing him from punching a building. The action made the heroine finally notice the Kryptonian. She widened the white eyes of the mask when she saw him flying. "Superman?"

She hung from a building, climbing the glass to get closer to him, she looked at the monster and then at him, her head spinning until she realized something, knowing that he would help her she addressed him. "Hey, Superman. Can you immobilize him for me for at least a few seconds?"

The Kryptonian looked at her, hesitating a little, but then a smile appeared on his lips "Leave it to me."

They moved together at that moment. Clark used his freezing breath on the stone legs, freezing them and immobilizing him to the ground. With the giant still, the spider woman climbed on his back and reached his neck. While the monster struggled, he saw her take a syringe and apply it to the rocky neck. With the liquid entering the monster's veins, he began to scream. Clark was about to intervene when the thunderous scream stopped.

Slowly, pieces of stone fell from the giant, and when they found their end on the ground, they turned into sand, being carried away by the wind. Little by little, the monster began to disintegrate until there was nothing left of him, just a cloud of dust in the place. Approaching to see the damage, he went down and came across the individuals.

The villain, once gigantic and grotesque, was now a thin and small man, passed out in the heroine's arms, while his breathing stabilized, Clark for the first time observed Spider-Woman up close, without being in the heat of battle.

The costume she wore was outlined in black and golden, the fabric was a mix of a dull color and another bright color, the symbol of a spider displayed proudly on her chest, the hood covered the mask on her face, making it difficult to see the white eyes of the mask. What intrigued him most was that it was not common fabric, since when he tried to use his x-ray vision he could not see Spider-Woman's identity.

She certainly knew how to hide her identity.

Just like someone he knew.

"Looking at he now, he doesn't look like a villain."

"And he isn't, they forced him, he's just an ordinary citizen." The dust slowly cleared, now revealing the street they were on. "Honestly, it's a surprise to see you here, shouldn't you be in Metropolis?"

Clark started to sweat a little. True, he should be in Metropolis, not New York, but he couldn't just watch everything on TV, there was a villain attacking the city! And he didn't know New York had a heroine to protect them! How careless of him. "Yeah, actually, I was..."

"was?"

"I-I flew past here! That's it." Spider-woman looked at him before starting to laugh, well at least he tried to hide it, in fact the excuse had been pretty bad.

"Okay, I'll take this as truth, you must have your reasons, don't you, Mr. Clark?"

The aforementioned froze, looking at the spider, who stood up carrying the injured man. The sounds of sirens were heard in the distance, indicating that the police were coming. "What?"

This time, it was the spider woman who froze, realizing her carelessness too late. She looked at him, and even with the mask on her face, he could have sworn a bead of sweat was on his forehead. "Ah, I and my big mouth."

"Do you know my identity? How did you-"

"L-look, I swear it wasn't intentional, seriously! I have... my reasons to know, but I promise! I didn't tell anyone and I won't tell anyone." Superman just looked at her in astonishment, it wasn't intentional? How did she find out then? While the police and ambulance finally arrived, the woman was quick to hand the man over to the police and briefly explained everything, she distanced herself from the police, ready to leave as quickly as possible when he approached her.

"Who are you? Like, really?" She looked at him, clearly anxious to get out of there. "That's... a secret, but like I said, I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

She pulled away from him again, releasing a web from her wrist, already trapping her in a building to resume her run. But before that, she turned to Clark, the tone of her words showing no lies, only truths. "After all..."

"If I wanted to do this, I would have done it nine months ago."

And with that she was gone.

Again, Clark didn't know what he was doing.

It had been a few days since his encounter with Spider-Woman, the revelation that she knew his identity disturbed him, but that wasn't what was going through Clark's head now.

That was who she was.

That woman (or teenager?, Clark doesn't know) had been saving New York for at least a year and absolutely no one in the league knew, she was literally under their noses the whole time and no one knew! But while they didn't know anything, but New York knew, you weren't liked by everyone but most definitely liked you, you gave those people security every day and they trusted you.

You were a real mystery.

In addition, there was the identity issue. Clark wasn't rich, so he didn't have spectacular security to hide his identity, but he always took precautions. You, however, found out so easily. Clark knew that your "it wasn't intentional" statement might be wrong, but whether it was intentional or not, you still did it.

Clark knew that you wouldn't reveal your identity to the world. Your statement made that very clear, but even so, his head itched and itched to meet you.

Maybe he was being hasty, but you were a great heroine, there was no denying that. You fought well, you were smart, and you had experience. You could be a good ally. Besides, Clark doesn't know if you're an adult, so it would be a good way to keep you under supervision.

That's why he's heading back to New York now.

The sun had already set, giving him a view of the beautiful night that had fallen while he was flying, but at that moment Clark was trying to find you.

He didn't know where you could be, in fact he didn't know what to do when he found you, he didn't even know what sparked his interest, he simply... felt. Something about how you were, the mystery surrounding you intrigued him, and Clark simply followed that instinct.

His thoughts were interrupted when his super hearing picked up a sound, of what sounded like running, it could have been anything but his instincts told him to follow the sound, to find the source.

He did.

And thank goodness he did, because he found you.

You were jumping over the buildings, like he had seen you do before, and it was only when you stopped that he could approach you. You were on the edge of the building, looking down at the floors. Clark intended to approach you, but it seemed like you had other plans.

"I thought you had already left." Your voice was neutral, showing no irritation or pleading, it was as white as a sheet, which made him stop, a little surprised that you had discovered him. "I did."

You turned to him, the eyes of the mask you were wearing showing him your confusion, looking him up and down, your reasoning led you to realize why he was here. "You- wait, are you following me?!"

"Following is a very strong word-"

"But you just admitted that you went to the metropolis and came to New York again!" Your arms gestured so quickly thanks to your nervousness that when you realized it you put one of them on your waist and the other you ran your hand over your face.

Clark couldn't help but find this cute.

"Look if this is because of the identity-"

"More or less, but that's not all." Clark's mouth turned into a gentle smile, your brain thinking about the possibilities again, all while you looked at him.

Silence reigned between the two, neither of them wanting to comment before the other, but it seems that Spider-Woman didn't have much time because a sound came from her gauntlet, she quickly accessed it and Clark saw that the "bracelet" was a type of miniature screen attached to the fabric of the suit, you looked at the messages before turning to Clark.

"I'm sorry but I have to go." You looked at the city below, looking at the lights that illuminated the place. Clark was about to speak when you cut him off before. "No offense Superman, but I think it's better if you go back to Metropolis, I don't have time to talk."

You spread your arms wide as you leaned towards the edge of the building, your eyes narrowed affectionately, which contradicted your voice full of irony. "Then this is our last meeting, thank you~"

And then you threw yourself.

Clark flew to the edge, ready to catch up with you, only to be faced with the emptiness of the city, you disappeared before their eyes, like a ghost.

"Then this is our last meeting."

No, it wouldn't be.

And it wasn't.

For the past four months, Clark has been bothering you, appearing out of nowhere, scaring you, helping you, making you more irritated by his constant appearances, making you more dynamic, more ironic, but happy.

It was a confusion of emotions, to tell the truth.

You expected that after a while he would stop doing this, after all he had things to take care of, for example: a city called Metropolis.

But Clark apparently didn't agree with that, because at least once every two weeks he would go to New York just to talk. The weirdest thing is that he started talking about his life to you as if he had known you for years! He talked about how he loved Lois, his relationship with John and Conner, GOD! He even talked about the Daily Planet!

Dude, he didn't even know who you were and he was just talking about his life to you?

You, however, always listened to him, you didn't tell him anything about your life but you didn't stop listening to him either.

Honestly, if you wanted to, you could very well mess with his life.

Good thing you're the heroine here.

As you jumped between buildings, your danger sensor beeped, warning you of something approaching. Knowing who it could be, you went down to the terrace of a building. Your suspicions were confirmed when you felt a gust of air from above. Turning around, you came face to face with the hero who had been on your tail for the last few months: Superman.

Clark had a gentle smile on his face, the smile of a hero, something that conveyed confidence and comfort. And it really did.

"Hello, Mr. Super, you look as happy as ever."

"Yeah, you look as relaxed as ever." He landed in front of you as you leaned against the building's railing, your elbows keeping your body steady as you assumed a carefree posture. Clark glanced at the buildings behind you nervously, uneasy about something. "I hope you don't mind, but we have company today."

You arched an eyebrow in doubt as your danger sensor went off like crazy, you had a few seconds before you turned around and launched a web at the person. You expected to find a criminal or even a super villain, but you were faced with the sunglasses of a teenager in a costume similar to Superman. "Yeah, she's really fast like you said."

What?

Before you could react, a much smaller figure appeared in front of you, just like the teenager (the difference was that he was a child and didn't wear glasses) he also looked a lot like Clark, he floated in front of you, bright and excited eyes directed at you. "Wow! You're so much cooler in person!"

A drop appeared on your head, turning to the man of steel you muttered to him. "Who are-"

"John and Conner." He chuckled softly, seeing your eyes narrow in irritation. "John really wanted to meet you and Conner ended up joining too."

"Oh." You pulled away from John a little as sarcasm flooded your lips. "That's great!"

Conner chuckled softly as you released him from your web, he approached you as he bent down a little to speak to you, since he was taller. "I thought you'd be happy to see us, it's not every day three Kryptonians come to New York to help with crimes." His voice held an undeniable teasing, the low and deep tone of his voice having the words dragged in his speech, it seemed almost sensual.

You stopped as you watched the other two, John and Clark froze, their gazes fixed on Conner, who you had confirmed was trying to subtly court you.

But you're not the shy girl here.

You approached him, close enough to be face to face, your breath could be felt on his mask. Conner, surprised by your bold move, leaned back, his cheeks flushed with your approach. "Well, New York is already protected by its heroine every day, so I don't need help." The smile on your face grew when Conner turned redder at the sound of your voice.

You quickly moved away from him and hung on the ledge, you turned to him, your figure shining with the lights in the city. "Then watch me do my job, mini super."

You fell from the building, the wind shaking your hood as you fell. Before hitting the ground, you threw a web up and climbed up again, hanging on one at a time. As your figure moved away, Conner and John looked at you. "Damn."

"You better come, or we'll end up losing her."

The night would be very long.

"OH GOSH, I'm so tired!" You yawned as you hung on the webs, it was almost four in the morning and you decided to go home. The supers had already left, you believe they were tired too (Especially Conner, where you and he played flirting all night).

You stopped on the terrace while looking around, seeing if someone or something had followed you, seeing no threat you hung on your web and slowly fell to your apartment, you opened the balcony door and as soon as you entered you were greeted by a satisfied meow.

Looking at the sofa in the living room, you saw Mooly lying on the cushion, the little black kitten moving and going to your ankle, cunning for affection. You laughed softly and picked her up gently, while placing her in your arms. "Hey, haven't you gone to sleep yet?"

As you petted the little one, footsteps were heard throughout the house, when you looked up you came across a large white vinyl robot, its form being embraced by its shadows, its round eyes shining in the dark space.

You looked at it and it did the same, the atmosphere apparently cold and tense to those looking from the outside, but completely the opposite for those who live in this house. The robot bowed respectfully, its voice, calm and tobotic, showed deep down a contained joy, reserved only for those close to it.

"It's so good to see you home." He stood up from his position, round eyes blinking slightly in the darkness of the apartment.

"Master (Name)."

You smiled as you set Mooly down on the couch again, you raised your hand to his neck and squeezed it, causing his mask to retract, revealing his identity. His face, the face of someone forgotten is a frequent presence on the walls here.

(Name) Wayne, the Spider-Woman, the missing daughter, the useless Wayne. His face was older than before, aged like red wine, clearly showing that you took after your father, since your face was just like his. Beautiful and exquisite, cold and deadly.

"It's good to be home Mark, where's Alex?" You asked as you squeezed your shoulder, which was a bit sore from today's patrol.

"Mrs. Alex is already asleep, she said she couldn't stand listening to you flirting with Superboy anymore."This made you laugh out loud, you could imagine Alex covering his ears so he wouldn't hear the two of you. You pressed the bracelet on your wrist and in a flash your suit retracted into the bracelet, showing your figure that had a loose blouse and pants. You stretched, heading towards the bathroom.

"Well, I guess I better go too, tomorrow I have a college project and Mrs. Vivian wants me early at the coffee shop" before you could get there Mark called you, his voice echoing through the house. "You got a message from Master Billy."

You stopped and looked at Mark, the notification displayed on his cute belly from an ologram. "Did he send it at this time?" The robot shook his head and handed the phone to you.

Opening your messages you went straight to Billy's contact, concern starting to creep in on you, but then again, you should know how Billy is.

Because when you saw the message you felt your stomach churn.

Billy Batson was eating the most beautiful and delicious candy you had ever seen in your entire life, and he sent it to you even though he knew about your addiction to sweets.

That little shit-

You quickly typed furiously on the cell phone keyboard, not caring that it was late, just wanting to curse Batson for making you feel hungry when you planned on not having dinner.

'Fuck, I hate you Batson ಥ_ಥ'

His answer didn't take more than a few seconds to come, his response irritating you even more.

'HEY, you finally answered me, I was already worried. Besides, I know you love me 𖹭𖹭𖹭(∪ ◡ ∪)'

'I promise I'll buy one for you, good night little spider ツ'

'...good night Billy.'

You wanted to cry, that's it.

Especially because you were hungry now.

Knowing your fate, you threw the cellphone on the couch and turned on the kitchen light, you heard Mooly and Mark's footsteps following you.

"I think there are still ingredients for a mug cake, right?" eating now wouldn't hurt.

"Bruce? BRUCE!" The aforementioned looked at the entrance of the batcave where Tim and Jason had rushed in. The two looked like they had seen a ghost, sweaty and pale, still in their suits. "Tim, what is it?"

"You- You need to see this!" He sighed heavily as he threw himself into the chair at the control panel, his fingers typing faster than he had seen them on missions. Bruce looked at Jason, who was standing next to him, who had a burning look on his face, hope hidden behind his eyes.

What's going on?

Bruce didn't need to ask, because Tim began to explain to him. "Since the accident with... (Name), I've never found any clues..." Bruce shuddered at the sound of your name, they didn't talk about that subject.

Even after three years it still hurt.

"But that was because I wasn't looking in the right place!" The teenager put up the pictures of the bus that had been carrying you that day, only the wreckage that was left was in the picture. "But now-now I know where to look."

"Last year, Star City had several people kidnapped suddenly, just like (Name) no one found any clues about the case, but Jason and Roy investigated thoroughly and managed to find a kind of underground dungeon where the kidnapped people would be."

Now on the computer was the picture of the bus and of a kind of what Bruce would call a mental hospital. The place was so rotten and filthy that Bruce wondered if anyone lived there. "Apparently there's nothing, but if you look behind each of the huge graffiti on the wall..."

Tim, using the program, removed the graffiti, which gave Bruce a view of the white walls, but in the middle of them, pieces of something nonsensical resided there. "... and put them together."

The movement in Tim's hands moved the images on the wall, distorting and shaping them until one completed the other, making the nonsensical make sense.

"A symbol."

The symbol of a womb wrapped around a two-headed serpent.

"Do you know where else this symbol is?" Tim again returned to the image of the bus wreckage, he shaped the image and put together pieces of the walls that resulted in the same symbol, but with small parts missing. "So you mean-"

"That the same people who kidnapped the people in Star City were the ones who kidnapped (Name)." Jason answered for the two, his tone as dejected as Bruce's.

He can't blame him, he's in a similar state.

"The problem is that I can't find out what it means, I've tried on the Internet, in history books, even on Wikipedia! But I haven't found anything."

The crushing silence suffocated those present, leaving invisible marks on their being. "It has to have a meaning, anything- okay, what does it mean to a womb?!"

"Jason, this is stupid-"

"No, but we have to try! Shit, you only looked in science books or-or whatever, but have you tried to look for anything related to mythology?" Tim thought for a moment, but shook his head negatively.

"The womb refers to the woman, the mother. Now, what does a two-headed snake refer to?" Bruce asked no one in particular, his thoughts searching for the knowledge he had about it.

"Would it be a mother snake? That's nonsense."

Jason thought for a moment and realized something. "Technically, it's not." The red hood searched the control panel while talking to Robin and Batman.

"In Greek mythology, there was a creature that was half snake and half woman." The mythological image appeared next to the symbol. The grotesque figure of the creature somehow referred to the symbol.

"She was known as the mother of monsters."

"Echidna."

HI GUYS, this chapter was a lot of work, I had a lot of blockages but I managed to do it.

Now I have a question to ask: Is Conner treated as Clark's son or brother?

You already know that I haven't read the comics, I've watched Young Justice (at least there it gave the impression that Conner would be treated as Clark's son) but on Wikipedia it says that Conner is treated as John's uncle, please answer me 😭.

I'm also doing a reader drawing (NON-CANONIC), I think I'll do headcanons too. I'll possibly leave a link below.

Ok, let's go to the Tag list \(•◡•)/:

@daiyanomochi - @amber-content - @wizzerreblogs - @foggyv-oid - @kore-of-the-underworld - @theunknowntravel3r - @space1crow - @shortnsweetsposts - @popursocks - @sugasweettea - @salfishers - @itachisank - @jsprien213 - @infirebaby - @yhin-gg -@h-ib

@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93 - @horror-lover-69 - @mybones537 - @eyeless-kun - @timotheechalametswifeys - @justabreadslice - @nymphzy0 - @1-800-g00ber - @pix-stuff - @jsprien213

sorry for any mistakes.

Bye 𖹭

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dceasesd · 7 months ago

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why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.1)

oh boy oh boy am i excited for this one buckle up boys it’s gonna be a long one. analysis under the cut (WITH PICTURES!!)

i, like many others, have many thoughts and opinions about juni ba's the boy wonder that i'd like to express. i was having trouble formatting my rant, though, so i decided that it was easiest to just address some of the common complaints i've seen about the comic and jason's characterization and insert my ramblings throughout it. so far i've seen three main complaints:

the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"

his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character

the neighbor's kid interaction

to start with the first one-- when introducing jason's character, in both the second and first issue, ba uses the descriptors "coarse", "bitter", "hardened", "brash" and, of course, "rageful".

so, yes-- i understand where people are having issues with this characterization. however, even if it's overplayed, it's still important to remember that jason is angry, and is driven, in part, by his anger at bruce and the joker. and, as ba highlights, he deserved to be! completely erasing jason's anger is just as bad as defining him with it.

i also don't think it's wholly accurate to say that ba is boiling jason down to just his anger. it might seem like that when only considering the dialogue and narration, but jason's behavior in the comic doesn't perfectly align with how the narrator describes him. while the narration describes him as "rageful" and could be an instance of generalization, jason's actions throughout the comic are more aligned with two other emotions/motivators: fear and despair. we never see jason get actually, properly angry; the closest we get is when he's seemingly annoyed by damian (which i believe could be performative) and when he becomes violent, accidentally hurting damian.

even in this instance, though, he is not driven to this violence by rage, but rather fear. so, while ba states in the narration that jason is driven by his anger, he contradicts himself by highlighting how jason's sadness and terror motivates his character. this could be interpreted as lousy writing on ba's part, but i'm not going to attribute the paradox to that inference. to me, it actually represents a critque of the "jason is the angry robin" generalization, because it calls to attention the discrepancies between how one is described versus reality, an issue that jason both faces in the comics (bruce using him as a cautionary tale when dying WASN'T HIS FAULT) and outside of the comics, as mentioned previously.

furthermore, this highlights the difference between what jason believes about bruce's perspective and bruce's actual perspective (according to damian). jason believes himself to be a "failure", but damian refutes this by describing his conversation with bruce concerning jason, a conversation that does not align with jason's belief. if you couldn't tell by now, perception versus reality is a BIG theme in this comic (and for jason's character in general!)

i was really fascinated by ba's take on jason, because it veered pretty far from a lot of contemporary comics, most of which do, unfortunately, play with the angry robin jason generalization. they've been doing a bit with his fear, too, which has either been pretty fun or the most awful thing ever (i'm looking at you zdarsky. gotham war was fucked up), but what makes ba's jason stand out to me is how he grapples with his grief.

this boy is so sad. ba's jason might actually be the saddest rendition of him i've seen in canon content. we've seen jason grapple a little bit with the despair rooted in his death and resurrection, mainly in lost days, where he cries 3 (?) times, fresh out of the pit and very traumatized.

even in this comic, though, he reacts to his grief with anger more prominently than sadness. that obviously doesn't mean the despair isn't there, though-- anger is just an easier outlet for it (which i could really get into the masculinity aspects of that, but then this would be wayyyyyy too long).

ba's jason, though? that motherfucker is so. sad.

christ he's depressing. AND THAT'S SUCH A FRESH PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THANK YOU JUNI BA!!!!!!

now i'm pretty sure some people would argue that this rendition in out of character because he's so sad. to me, though, he's still the same jason; he covers up his sadness with anger and pettiness, redirecting his own insecurities onto those around him to mask his true feelings.

ba quite literally illustrates this in the comic. whenever he is being his snide, normal self, he has his red hood mask on; but when he actually opens up to damian and expresses himself truthfully, the mask is off. ba is highlighting how the classic jason anger and bitterness is, in part, a performance and coping mechanism.

this post is already too long, so i'll go over the two other critques in a different post, which i will link below (eventually). if you guys have any thoughts you'd like to share or discuss, my dms and asks are completely open! if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed my ranting. look out for another post soon! :))

part 2 / part 3

#using my english major for evil #this is very different from stuff i usually post so i hope you guys like it #i had a blast writing it #dc comics #jason todd #batman #dc #robin #red hood #batfamily #batfam #damian wayne #red hood: lost days #the boy wonder #juni ba #dc meta #jason todd meta #the boy wonder meta

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swanlikely · 3 months ago

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Current Nanami Brainrot: Husband Nanami!

TW & Content: Sexual Harrassment, Violence (barely), Cunnilingus, Penetration, Usage of she/her pronouns, and bad writing?

Thinking about Nanami watching his pretty little wife sway softly to the suggestive music that hummed over the audience in the club. His eyes followed every sultry move, a small smirk playing on his lips as he nursed the whiskey in his strong palm. Nanami, being the ever-so-sweet husband he was, agreed to accompany you on your night out with your girls, ensuring your safety while secretly enjoying the view. Chuckling, he couldn't help but trace every curve of your body with his eyes, reminding himself how lucky he was. The way you moved, so effortlessly seductive, captivated him completely.

The mood and your fun were immediately ruined when a man, barely a few inches taller than you, sauntered up against you. The horrible sensation of his front pressing against your rear drove you to swivel quickly around, your face plastered in disgust. As the event unfolded, Nanami was already downing the whiskey and approaching you, his instincts kicking in.

"Please don't do that. I'm married," You yelped over the blaring music, fighting back the bitterness in your voice. The man with no manners cocked his bushy brow, appearing to be enticed by your attitude, and placed a rough hand on the side of your waist. His hold was unwanted and aggressive, causing dread to flare up in your chest.

"I don't see your husband here, do I? Besides, what's a married woman doing in a place like this, wearing that?" he spat, his eyes raking over your body with a predatory gleam. The anger surged through you as you realized he was referring to the black, tight dress Nanami had lovingly picked out for you. The dress that made you feel confident and beautiful, now tainted by this stranger's leering gaze.

"He's right here," Nanami's voice uttered reassuringly as he swatted the stranger's hand off your waist. Relief washed over you as your mountain of a husband placed his large hand on the small of your back. He wasn't just rubbing little circles or patterns; he was tracing letters, grounding you with each gentle touch.

"Sorry." He traced, so courteous as always.

"Ah, well. Maybe you shouldn't let your wife out looking like that. Gonna give someone the wrong idea," the rude stranger mumbled, swiping at the back of his hand where Nanami had gripped so tightly to pry him off you. Nanami was like a tree, towering over the pathetic man before you, both in sheer size and presence.

"Looking like what?" you scoffed, taking a step forward. Nanami still kept his hand on you but didn't intervene. He knew you were capable of handling yourself. He knew better than to stop his wife in the moment. "Like a slut," the stranger laughed, the sound actually nauseating to Nanami's ears. He rolled his eyes, knowing only a child would call a beautiful woman in a designer dress that. Only he could do that, though under different circumstances.

You rolled your eyes at the insult, mirroring Nanami's earlier gesture. With a swift pivot, you grasped Nanami's hand with your right, feeling the comforting strength in his grip. Using your left hand, you boldly flipped the bird at the stranger, your heart racing with a mix of defiance and satisfaction.

But before you could completely walk away with your kind husband, the stranger grumbled and reached out to pull your hair. Except, you didn't feel a thing. Instead, you felt your husband shift, and your eyes followed suit. Nanami was gripping the man by the back of his neck. God, did he look delicious, his arm flexing through the thin fabric of his button-up. His eyes were cold and fierce, a stark contrast to the warmth you always felt from him. You couldn't help but ogle at the way his muscles tensed.

"We shouldn't put our hands on pretty ladies, now should we?" Nanami asked the man, his voice dripping with a disgustingly sweet tone. He tossed the man onto the floor, and he landed on his rear with an "Ugh." Nanami tossed him like he was nothing. Good lord.

Nanami began to gently fold up the sleeves of his dark blue button-up, revealing forearms that could probably make angels weep. He was the living embodiment of "sex on legs." You couldn't help but notice the club's collective gasp as several eyes locked onto the scene, some surprised, others blatantly undressing Nanami with their eyes. Join the club, you thought with a smirk.

Nanami silently squatted down next to the man who was still recovering from the fall, bringing a hand up to grip his collar. Nanami whispered something to the man that you couldn't catch, but whatever it was, it made the stranger's eyes fill with panic.

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am," the man stammered out, bowing his head like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You didn't even respond to the stuttering fool as you just looked at your husband, half-lidded. You were mad, originally. But who could stay angry when your husband was defending your honor, his chiseled jaw clenched and his eyes burning with intensity, making a heat stir in your stomach?

"Are you alright, sweetness?" Nanami asked as he stood up from his position, walking towards you. Towering over you, again. He was just so big.

You nodded and glanced at your girls, who were raising their eyebrows knowingly. They recognized that look on your face—it was the same one they gave their husbands when things got, well, interesting. They waved you off with giggles and a few exaggerated winks, clearly enjoying the show.

"Kento," you grabbed his hand, weaving through the sea of people like a determined woman on a mission. Despite his towering size and rugged masculinity, Nanami always listened to his wife with a smile. Little did he know, you were about to make him the happiest man in the club.

As you pulled him through the exit and toward his car, he started to put the puzzle together. He couldn't help but chuckle, his eyes glued to your ass sashaying in the dress he bought you. "Well, someone's in a hurry," he teased, knowing full well you were about to make his night unforgettable. "Need you," was all you could manage before yanking your husband down to your level with his spotted tie. His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, leaving you breathless. His hands found their way to cup your cheeks. His fingers traced down your neck, each touch causing your skin to ignite.

Your tongue danced on his bottom lip, and he politely allowed you to delve deeper, exploring the heat of his mouth. He tasted absolutely irresistible, a mix of rich whiskey and mint. The flavor was intoxicating, he was intoxicating, making you crave every bit of him even more. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, so close that you could feel everything.

You could feel his heavy cock pressing against your thigh, the cool metal of the car contrasting sharply with the warmth of his bulge. He was overwhelming. "What's got you so eager, sweetheart?" Nanami mused as he pulled away, just a little, your forehead still pressed against his. His breath fanned against your swollen lips, his chocolatey eyes dark with want. God, he was perfect.

"Can't a woman just want her husband?" you purred, your voice like honey. Husband, oh how he loved when you called him that. It sent a rush straight to his cock, lighting a primal desire that made his breath hitch and his grip tighten on you.

"I guess I'll have to be a good husband and please my wife, huh?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. His eyes never left yours as he reached into his pocket to unlock the car. Like the gentleman he was, he opened the car door for you, his touch lingering just a moment longer. The backseat of his car never looked so good.

Nanami and you slipped inside, and in an instant, Nanami was nestled between your thighs. He was electrifying. His teeth gently tugged your panties to the side, and his tongue working hard on your cunt. He was both sloppy yet precise, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through you. Nanami's big hands roamed your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin, grounding you in the moment. His tongue worked magic, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quick, teasing flicks. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel the tension building within you.

Every now and then, he'd glance up, his eyes locking with yours through his glasses, a mischievous glint in them that made your cunt clench around nothing. His dedication to your pleasure was evident, and the way he moved and responded to your reactions showed just how much he loved you. You were dripping, almost sopping at this point.

"Kento, no m-more. I want you," you groaned as your delicate fingers tugged at his neat blond hair. Nanami paused for a moment, his eyes darkening as he looked up at you. The sight of you, needy and breathless, clearly affected him. He slowly rose, his lips brushing a trail up your body, leaving a path of tiny bruises in their wake. You'd scold him for that later.

"God, you're such a good wife," he murmured, his voice deep and husky. His right hand found your waist, while his left undid the zipper of his slacks, tugging them down just enough to reveal his heavy cock. Even in the barely lit car, it was mouthwatering. He was rock hard and throbbing, all seven inches of him.

As you reach to grab him and pull him into your slippery cunt, he stops you with a tut. "Be patient, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?" His voice, low and commanding, added an extra layer of excitement to the moment. You pant, "Yes sir," as you bring your hands to claw at Nanami's strong arms. Your hands looked so tiny in comparison to him.

Something in him seemed to awaken at the sound of your petname for him, ramming into your cunt. The stretch was overwhelming. His strong arms that you loved so much held you tightly, as he fucked you dumb, completely consumed by the raw walls of your cunt. Your thighs were pushed against your chest as your husband kept pounding into you, his groans and grunts sounding like a symphony.

"So good for me, so perfect," Nanami groaned into your neck, his words vibrating against your sweaty skin. As your climax approached, Nanami continued to sing praises into your ear, telling you how good you were, how much he loved you. "Gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna make a mess all over your husband's cock?" He spat as he nipped at the side of your jaw. You could barely answer, your mind already slipping into ecstasy. Nanami was completely pussy drunk, his cock dragging in and out with a pace you couldn't comprehend.

"Y-yes! Yes, oh god, yes!" you screamed, certain that everyone on the block could probably hear you. But you didn't care, because your husband made your walls gush and clamp around him. Nanami's own high wasn't far after yours as his pace somehow quickened, his head kissing your cervix. "Gonna cum," Nanami groaned.

"Gonna get my pretty wife pregnant," his voice dripped with desire as he continued. His seed was thick and warm, filling you to the brim. As he pulled out, he gently massaged the area above your cunt.

"So perfect." ________________ i need him biblically.

If any of the grammar is bad, I am so sorry. I wrote this while I was ovulating.

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #jjk #jjk smut #jjk brainrot #nanami brainrot #smut #nanami imagine #jjk nanami #jujitsu kaisen #nanami fluff #nanami x you #anime #anime smut

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rosenclaws · 3 months ago

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Hi again! 👋

I'm throwing another request at ya since you did such an awesome job with the last fic idea I requested. (Thank you again for that)

This time with the OG Logan and all his kitty cat hair glory lol.

The reader has similar powers to scarlet witch. Like telekinetic powers, levitation, etc. Can it be a scenario where she loses connection (like how wanda feels connected to vision) with Logan and thinks that he's dead and she just snaps. The villians who claims they killed him mock her and she pulls the move like wanda did in Endgame where she's like you took everything from me, and the villians don't know who she is and she's like you will and just goes full beast mode on the villians involved.

Bonus, Logans alive, he just was knocked out real bad and sees the whole fight happen and was like wow I love her and they reunite and it ends all fluffy with a kiss, maybe a proposal? Lol 😘

Heartbeat || Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: This was such a great request and I have to say I really loved writing this. I did. go a little angstier than I thought I would and its darker than I expected it to turn out but I really hope you like it. Your mutant name is firefly. Also. I still haven't seen the movies so I apologize if its not accurate to how the X-Men work or anything im sorry sdakfjl;

warnings: fake out death, violence, blood, killing, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, the reader goes on a rampage, he calls you honey, reader almost dies, creepy ass villian guy.

wc: 2.3k

"You alright there honey?" Logan's hand gently rests on your shoulder.

You're staring blankly out the jet window, watching the clouds pass by as you ready yourself for what is pretty much a suicide mission. A whole organization that had been hiding underground, dedicated to eradicating mutants.

They've studied you. Planned. They know things, your strengths, your weaknesses. A few people had infiltrated their base and what they found...It made you shiver. Photos and articles and deeply personal information.

They had photos of you and Logan.

It made you paranoid sometimes. Like they were always watching. So you had to put a stop to it as soon as possible. You didn't go on missions often. Your powers were, quite destructive. Powerful yes but not always needed but the X-Men needed everyone they could. You take a deep breath and try to smile convincingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Logan snorts and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're lying right through those pretty teeth." There's an air of fear in the jet. You all know what might happen if you don't succeed.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. Promise."

"Yeah they're no match for the Wolverine and Firefly." Scott teases making Logan roll his eyes. Scott just loved messing with Logan, taking any jab he can to lighten the mood.

"Can it bub." He turns his attention back to you, happy to see a small smile on your face. Logan takes your hand and places it on his chest. Your hands glow as you reach deep and feel his heartbeat.

"See?" You take a deep breath as you listen.

Sometimes you got too much into your own head. Your powers were tricky and when you got overwhelmed Logan always knew how to calm you down. The world around you fades as you focus on the beat of his heart. The rise and fall of his chest. He was your rock. The jet jolts and Logan holds onto you as you stumble.

"Think I got time for a quick smoke before we head out?"

"No you do not." Storm walks up to the two of you, she shoos Logan away who reluctantly leaves.

"We're landing in 10 minutes, are you ready Firefly?" You take a deep breath and nod.

You stare at your hands as you little particles of orange start to sprout from your fingers. You had control of your powers most of the time but they were still a work in progress but you knew that this mission was important so you couldn't afford to lose control.

Once the jet lands Scott and Storm tell everyone the plan again. This was for the future of mutant kind and there was a lot at stake. Each of you had a small usb drive that would corrupt and destroy any files still left in their system. Infiltrate and destroy all of their plans.

"Do you feel like pancakes?" Logan asks as you step out of the jet.

"What?" He shrugs and stands a little taller.

"There's this diner, open all night. Thought that after you'd want to get something to eat." You know what he's doing. Trying to make you feel better, to believe that you'll make it out alive. You can't die if you have a plans.

"Sure Logan, pancakes sounds great."

"Then it's a date." Logan heads in the opposite direction of you.

He's part of the brute force while you slip into the shadows. Still it pains you to be away from him. A storm rumbles in the distance and you hurry off to your position, afraid of what was to come. Still you keep going.

This was going to end tonight.

"Shit!" You hiss as a bullet wizzes past you.

Things had went to shit pretty quickly and it's an all out brawl now. With a wave of your hands soldiers go flying to who knows where. You sneak behind one and infiltrate his mind. Using his fears to show you exactly where the main computer was being held. He falls to the ground and you step over him as you sneak inside.

It was getting bad, you could feel it. Feel the tiredness and pain your friends were feeling. The guards fall one by one as you make it to the center console room. Exhaustion was creeping up on you. Your powers exerting every bit of strength you had. Still you knew what had to be done.

You plugged in the usb drive and watched as the system crashes, deleting every single bit of information they could have on the X-Men. Then you slowly envelop the console with your powers, crushing it until there's nothing left. You press your finger to your ear, alerting the team you had wiped their main computer in the comms. There's nothing but static on the other end.

"Guys?" You feel your heart start to race as you run out of the building.

"Hello? Anyone? Storm, Jean, Logan?" Still nothing.

Suddenly you feel this horrible, horrible pit in your chest. You stop in your tracks. Blood running cold as terrible feeling washes over you. Logan. You can't explain it, but somethings wrong.

"Logan!" You plead into your comms for him to respond.

You burst through the doors and back onto the field. Your breath hitching as you see the destruction in front of you. For any normal villain's they would have been nothing in the way of you guys, but these people knew exactly who you were. Exactly how to stop each and every one of you.

It was a losing battle.

Your eyes dart around as you send blast after blast, trying to help but with every move of your hands you feel weaker. Suddenly you hear a loud yell, you turn around to see Logan driving his claws deep into the chest of someone. You feel relieved seeing him still standing.

"Logan!" You call out to him and he looks your way. There's blood splattered all over his face and he looks worried. He runs towards you as fast as he could go.

"Get down!" He roars.

BANG

It all happens so slowly.

You look to your side to see a man with a gun aimed right at you. The exhaustion plagues your brain as you react too late. You see Logan running at you. A desperate look in his face as he jumps at you. You hit the ground and so does Logan. He rolls away and lays still. To your horror there's a bullet right in his forehead.

"Logan!" You screech.

You scramble to his side. He's not getting up. Why is he not getting up? He heals. He should be fine. His healing factor should have kicked in so why isn't he getting up. You reach out to him but someone grabs your leg before you can. Your hands dig into the ground as you're yanked back. Dragged to the center of the field.

"Get the fuck off me!" You kick your feet and scream loudly.

Your hands glow but you're face is shoved to the ground, a foot on your neck slowly stopping the air from entering your lungs. You can feel your strength draining. You try and use your powers but you can't.

"He's dead sweetheart. Think we don't know about that neat little regeneration of his?" The man above you laughs and you start to feel sick.

"We're not fucking stupid." He takes his foot off your neck and you gasp for air. He reaches down and grabs you by the neck, forcing you to turn and look at Logan.

"Where's that healing of his now?" Logan remains unmoving, you try and reach out to him. Using any bit of your power to search for him but nothing. You can't feel anything. Tears start to fall as you let out an anguished cry.

"I thought you were supposed to be strong? We heard so much about you and now look at you." He lets go of your neck and you crawl to your knees. Clutching your chest as sobs wrack your body.

"Don't worry though," You hear a gun cock behind you.

"It'll be over soon. Go ahead and say hi to your little boyfriend for us."

You look up at him and feel nothing but an overwhelming amount of pure rage. How fucking dare they. They threatened your life, your friends, your world. They took your peace. They took Logan. The love of your life, he died saving you. Your hands glow bright orange, your chest heaving as you glare at the man standing in front of you.

"Oh look at that, looks like you can do something." He sneers. You chuckle darkly. Tilting your head to the side you smile. Your eyes start to glow as you become strangely calm.

"You took everything from me...So I'm going to take it all from you." You scream as a large wave of energy bursts from your body.

A wave knocking back everyone in your radius including your team. The line of friend and foe blur as you go on a rampage. Disposing of anyone who came after you with ease.

"Firefly!" Storm calls out to you, you were becoming uncontrollable. No one can even get near you. Jean tries to get into your head but you block her out.

No one can get to you now.

They took him from you and you were going to make him pay. You stalk to the ones that were foolish enough to stay. Though they were crawling away now, pleading for mercy. It almost makes you laugh. They were showing no mercy when they planned to eradicate you and your friends. Why would you show them any now?

"That's enough!" Scott fires a beam to stop you in your tracks.

"They're surrendering." He reaches out to you but you push him away.

"I don't care." You snarl. You raise your hand and lift the stragglers up in the air. You're about to slam them to the ground but someone grabs onto your wrist.

"Stop!" The grip is tight as they spin you around. The glow in your eyes fade as you take in who stands in front of you.

"Logan?" You whisper. You try and shake your hand free but he doesn't budge.

"Let them go, honey." He says gently.

"They tried to kill you." You feel the fire come back but Logan does everything he can to calm it.

"But they didn't. They can't hurt us anymore." Still you don't move. He loosens the grip on your hand, taking your other hand and placing it on his chest.

"I'm alive, just feel." Slowly you lower your hand, softly letting the men fall as the rest of the team deal with them as you collapse into Logan's arms.

"I thought you were dead!” You cried. You rest your head against his chest, hand still gripping his suit.

“You weren’t moving and I, I couldn’t feel you.” He cradles the back of your head and holds you tight.

“I’m so sorry I scared you honey, I’m alive. Just knocked out for a little bit.” Logan feels horrible.

Maybe if he had been a little quicker you both would be okay and you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of that. He grabs your face and kisses you with an intensity you've never felt. It's sloppy and desperate but full of life. He's alive. He's telling you that he's alive.

When you pull apart there's still tears streaming down your face. Still so overwhelmed from everything. He lets you cry into his chest as he soothes you. Wiping away the tears as they come.

"I love you so much." He whispers so only you can hear.

The rest of the team watch but don’t say a word. Letting the two of you sit there as long as you need. Soon your tears dry up but you don’t let go of Logan.

It’s a quiet walk to the jet. Everyone is absolutely drained. You lean on Logan's shoulder as he draws shapes on your thigh with his thumb. Your hand rests on his wrist, pressing into his pulse just to make sure he's still breathing.

"Pancakes." You say quietly. Logan looks over in slight confusion.

"Huh?"

"You promised me pancakes," You crack a tired smile.

Logan stares at you for a moment before laughing in disbelief. The weight of what happened finally catching up to him. How close he was to losing it all, how close you were to complete destruction. The toll it's taken on everyone in the jet. The last thing on anyone's mind mind should be doing anything other than sleeping for a week yet pancakes feel like the best fucking idea ever.

"Yeah we can get pancakes honey, as many as you want." He kisses your forehead and places his chin on your head.

"With chocolate chips?" You ask playfully.

"I'll make 'em put in extra. Just for you." You hum happily as you lean in closer to him.

It's still a long flight back and one by one everyone starts to fall asleep. Soon it's just the rumbling of the plane. You look up to see Logan has fallen asleep, you watch his chest rise and fall. Just for a little bit.

He grumbles in his sleep, twitching slightly. There's a scowl on his face as he starts to shift more. Quietly you tap your fingers against his head, taking away his nightmares. He stops moving, relaxing under your touch. You smile softly as you slide your hand down to his chest.

Closing your eyes you feel his heart again. In the back of your mind swirls the horrible memories of today but you choose to ignore them for now. You close your eyes and allow yourself to rest. The steady beat of his heart acting as the perfect lullaby.

Just a steady reminder that everythings okay, there's nothing to fear anymore.

Thump

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett angst

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pyrodolls · 5 months ago

Text

superfan! yandere oc x popstar! reader (yandere alphabet)

warnings: a little nsfw, mentions of murder and violence, kidnapping, breaking and entering, stalking, depression, masochistic yandere, kinda worshipper yandere, some mentions of "offing" himself, mentions of death and starvation, established relationship, lowercase intended, not proofread, reader is gender neutral, i do not condone yanderes irl.

a/n: i was gonna do a request but uhhh i felt lazy. i'll make an alphabet for victor next cuz i feel bad for not writing him. plus i'm gonna try to make a masterlist soon so yippee! (also i apologize to all my non-yandere-enjoying followers that like my mortal kombat works, i'll get back to those someday. i just look back on my old works and cringe. i really dislike all my stuff from 2023.)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

bayani loves you with all his heart. he is often overbearing and obsessive, treating you like you're the only thing that matters. he is always fussing over you and making sure you're okay. he constantly asks you how your day has been, if you've eaten yet, if there's anything he can do for you, etc. he is your little servant. please make him feel useful. please let him help you. his only purpose is to entertain and satisfy you in any way he can. whether you want him to cuddle and kiss you often, or you want him to cook and clean for you, whatever you want. he doesn't have a particular love language. even if he did, he would change it to cater to your taste.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

bayani believes violence is not the answer. he does not want to hurt anyone. but if it's for your safety, or if you order him to hurt or even kill someone, he would reluctantly do it. as much as he denounces violence, he cannot find it in his heart to disobey you. even if it is someone he knows, he'll do it for you. because if you think they should be dead, then you must be correct. bayani believes you can do no wrong, so he must act on your orders.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

bayani would not abduct you. he would never do anything that would hurt your feelings. as much as he gets off on being physically tortured and verbally berated by you, he cannot imagine a world where you dislike him or hate him in any way. he would never kidnap you. besides, even if he wanted to kidnap you, his apartment is too shitty to keep you there, and he wants you to live a life of luxury.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

bayani would absolutely not do anything against your will. he is nothing but your servant, and your fan. he does anything you want him to. he could never go against your will.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

bayani is yours. he has put his whole heart out for you ever since he first saw you. from being your biggest fan, to stalker, to boyfriend. since day one he has been (mostly) open and vulnerable.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

bayani would absolutely be turned on by your rage. kick him, spit on him, etc... the bulge in his pants would just grow harder and harder. however, as much as he enjoys being used as your personal punching bag, he doesn't want you to hate him. if you hated him, he might as well throw himself off a cliff. why should he live if you don't accept him? if he's not enough for you? he dedicated his life to following everything you did as a popstar, to dating you and doing everything you asked him to. so if you ended up hating him after everything he did for you, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

it is not a game to bayani, not one bit. i can't see him kidnapping you at all, but if he did it would probably be for your safety. he would hate to see you so sad and desperate to leave. he'd try to give you whatever food or gifts you ask for, to distract you from trying to escape. it's for your own good, please don't cry and scream at him.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

as much as bayani respects you, he often forgets your boundaries. he would break into your bedroom and watch you sleep, steal your clothes, or watch you while you shower. no matter how many times you try to tell him you're uncomfortable with his behavior and wish to have some alone time, he'd always claim that he would "respect you from now on" but the next day he'd go back to his perverted ways.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

bayani is hoping to get married and live happily ever after with you. he doesn't see himself having kids, he'd prefer to keep all his time and attention on you for the rest of his life. as much as he supports your career and music, a part of him hopes you retire early so you can give him more attention. but if you want to keep up your career for a few more decades, that's okay with him too. whatever makes you happy, makes him happy.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

bayani rarely gets jealous. but when he does, it's concerning. when he sees you hug or compliment a fan, he understands it's not romantic. he doesn't really care about it at all. however, if he sees a fellow popstar being a little too close to you or flirting with you, he immediately worries about himself. what if you leave him? he isn't attractive, or talented, or rich. you could easily leave him for a fellow popstar. bayani wouldn't blame you at all, or the popstar flirting with you. he only ends up looking in the mirror and picking himself apart for hours, wondering why you decided to date him. after that, he ends up being even more clingy than he was. he is basically glued to your hip, and doing everything you ask of him. he compliments you more and tries to make himself seem more energetic and loving. he even looks up ways to make himself more desirable to you, and trying out obscure skin care routines and putting lifts in his shoes. he tries to make himself better for you so you wouldn't leave him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

bayani's basically a dog at your beck and call. he sits near you with hearts in his eyes, ready to tend to your needs. he usually talks to you nonstop, yapping about something he saw on the internet you might like or a bug he saw on the sidewalk. of course he'd stop if you ask him to, but he's just so nervous around you! even after you start dating and he's no longer just a superfan, his little crush on you never fades away. he covers up his anxieties by talking about anything and everything. if you were to engage in his little yapping sessions, or even laugh at his jokes or agree with his opinions, he'd get extremely flustered and shy. he'd try his best to hide it, but his tomato red face would give it away.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

bayani wouldn't even try to ask you out. he thinks of himself as nothing but a broke, ugly, stalker guy in love with you and your career. he thinks you're way out of his league. you would have to be the one to notice him and strike up a conversation. even then, he'd evaporate the moment you lay your eyes on him. but the more you notice him at your shows and interact with him, you'd become friends and then you'd have to be the one to confess to him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

bayani's true colors aren't too different from how he acts with others. he's truly a perverted, shy, stalker. his whole life, even in childhood, he was always shy and never really talked to anyone. he didn't have any friends, wasn't in any clubs and didn't go to a church of any sort, so he was always alone. of course, nobody knows he's a perverted stalker, but it's easy to tell he doesn't speak to anyone but you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

bayani would never punish you. he thinks you can do no wrong. whether you simply lashed out at someone, or committed a crime, he would always be on your side. even if you were to lash out at him, he'd accept it. he would never blame you, only himself.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

bayani would never harm you in any way because of how much he loves and worships you. he'd never take anything away from you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

bayani would do anything for you, so of course he'd be very patient with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

bayani would not be able to live without you. if you left him, he would understand, but be heartbroken. but if you died, he would immediately lock himself in his apartment and refuse to eat or drink anything, and soon succumb to his own death. a life without you is a life he cannot live.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

bayani, again, would not kidnap you. if he did, i can imagine he would feel severely guilty about it. he hates seeing you in pain. if you're in pain, so is he. he would let you go as soon as he knows it's safe for you. hell, he'd want you to be free more than you do.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

like i mentioned before, bayani had a very lonely childhood. his parents weren't present, he had no friends or siblings, so he was left all alone. even when he graduated highschool and was left to live alone with a shitty job, he was still antisocial and had quite a dull life for a few years. that's how he discovered you. he never knew what it was like to love or be loved until he saw you and heard your music for the first time. your performances were a safe place to him. your lyrics were like a warm hug to him. you saved him from his miserable life. he started dedicating his life to you since you were the first person he truly cared about.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

bayani hates to see you in pain. he wishes he could take it all away for you. that's why he's so attentive to your needs, in hopes that he'll never have to see you cry or hear your screams in pain.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

unlike the classic, stereotypical yandere, bayani does not want to inflict harm on anyone unless he has to, and he's a lot clumsier than a usual yandere. he does not want to kill or hurt anyone, but if you really wanted him to, he would. but there's no guarantee that it'll go well, considering how clumsy he is. but he's trying, for you!

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

bayani is a worshipper, through and through. you want to leave him? just tell him. he'd be heartbroken, and probably beg you not to leave him, but ultimately he wants you to be happy. however, if he ever kidnapped you, you could escape by distracting him. you could point somewhere in the distance and go "look over there!" and he'd look for a couple seconds, then look back at you- and aw shucks you already ran away

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

bayani. would. never. even. dream. of. hurting. you.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

bayani would literally commit war crimes for you if you asked him to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you. he sees you as a hero that saved him, so he believes he should return the favor by doing anything for you. anything to keep you happy.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

after being your biggest fan and stalker for years, bayani is content with staying that way for the rest of his life. of course he would love to be yours, but he would be happy with simply watching you from afar for as long as he shall live. he would never snap.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

depends on your sanity, and how much you like bayani. if you're okay with his clingy, clumsy, yapping self for the rest of your life, then you'll be fine. but if you'd get sick of never having a lot of alone time, or having a guy that is attached to your hip... then maybe you'd break and he would be incredibly guilty. he would try to apologize by being even closer to you, which would make you feel worse. unless you end things with him, you're stuck forever.

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#yandere x reader #sub yandere #yandere #yandere imagines #soft yandere #male yandere x reader #dom reader #yandere oc #oc x reader #yandere oc x reader #masochist yandere #yandere smut #yandere oneshot #yandere headcanons #male yandere #stalker yandere #yandere bf #obsessive yandere #yandere boys x popstar reader

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your-nanas-house · 11 months ago

Note

more dark!tommy smut!!!! 🥹❤️🙏

Yup! Wasn't so sure if you wanted the same trope as the previous fics I wrote so I tried something else. 🥰

His fookin' wife

◇ Pairing: Dark!Tommy Shelby X wife!reader

◇ Warnings: heavy DUBCON, angst, Tommy being mean and a man of that period, MISOGYNY, arranged marriage, curses and violence, age gap (both off age).

◇ Summary: Tommy reminds his wife of her place.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Honestly... I hate the way I'm writing so I will apologise for my writing as well. Hope you enjoy 🙇🏼‍♀️.

All his thoughts came to an end as soon as she almost reached the front door.

His big calloused hands moved on their own grabbing quickly but firmly her waist from behind, so to pull her body back and grip her thighs tighly.

A deep inhale followed his actions, making the younger woman shiver as his warm breath brushed teasingly the shell of her ear.

Different emotions kept swirling inside of Tommy, his breath became heavier as his low and seductive voice interrupted the silence in the entrance to their house. Their... since it was hers as well, as soon as he put a ring around her finger three years ago, because of an arranged marriage.

The man could feel his wife's body tensing at his touch, but it just sent a shiver down his spine. His primal instincts kicking in fast, getting into him like a bullet.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/n's weak and panicked voice asked in a whisper, making a small smirk appear on his handsome face. His tongue dared out to wet his lips before he could place them on her neck, feeling her quick pulse against them.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He purred out, inhaling her scent before continuing to speak... his voice way lower and predatory than before. "I'm not going to let you leave the house until I'm finished with you, love—"

" —Or would you rather just leave and go and talk to those Italian lads again?" He mocked, anger and jealousy clear in his tone while his grip tightened at the mere movement of hers... causing the young woman to get even more scared of what was happening.

The prospect of being intimate with her arranged husband sounded... weird to her; he never acted like that with her, just once when he was drunk. Besides that night, their honeymoon of years before had been pretty much cold and calculated, he simply prepared her before stealing her virginity with a harsh thrust and little conversation.

No love or emotions besides lust present in that moment of their life.

The panic and fear made her try to escape his grip, just wanting to leave the house already to mind her own business and not discover this more carnal side of her man. A bad idea since Tommy reacted quickly, now holding her closer against his chest, his hips pressing harder against the soft curves of her covered ass while his cock reacted positively at the situation.

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily... There's no escaping me, darling. I'm going to keep you right here with me so there's no point in trying to free yourself." His low and threatening voice informed her before continuing after a soft growl caused by the wiggling of her body.

"I'm not going to let you leave unless I say so, and I'm going to keep you here all for myself, as your husband.... as your man."

It has been too long since he had been with his Y/n like that, and the fact that she was fighting him caused him to crave her even more. Her teasing and panicked movements were driving him crazy with lust, the way her curves kept pressing back against his front... brushing his now rock-hard cock just made the blue eyed man want to slam her against the nearest surface and take her like he was craving since a while.

Y/n was sweating cold, her heart beating crazily as her mind raced with lots of different thoughts... her body jolted again at his touch and he pressed her harshly against the cold front door of their house.

A breathy groan left the dark haired man's body as he pinned her against the wood, his hips now grinding against her ass... as his left hand held tightly her wrists together so that his free one could raise up the fabric of the dress she was wearing.

"Fucking hell, luv" Tommy cursed at the view of her exposed lower half, his hand colliding with her right ass cheek, making her whimper at the stingy sensation and whine when he knealed harshly her reddening skin.

"Missed your damn body" he added with a breathless growl, position his bulge between her legs as he pulled roughly her underwear up and leave place to his boner to rub on her butt, nudging her sacrum with each movement.

Y/n's body kept hitting softly the door as Tommy made her move with his tempo, his breath getting heavier and faster just like his thrusts.

His free hand, which had reached for her chest without success, moved now down her spine till his fingers could start to undo his belt and pants... sending a shock of fear in the young woman's body.

At the sound of the belt hitting the floor, her eyes widen and her feet moved on its own, stepping on Tommy's and catching him off guard for a couple of seconds. Allowing her to try to run away, heading quickly upstairs as he just watched her with a predatory smirk on his face... his hand picking up the belt from the ground before he rushed behind her.

"It's useless, I told you already... such a-fiesty-little-wife" Tommy spat with gritted teeth as his hand grabbed a firm hold on her ankle before pulling and making her fall down the stairs so that his body could be pin hers easily.

His broad chest now pressing against her small back as his hand pulled her hair so that her face was tilted towards him

"Don't you wanna be a good wife for your husband, luv?" The older man purred against her jaw, leaving wet kisses as his other hand traveled between her breasts to undo her dress and let easier access to her chest.

"I think we need to revise your duties as a wife and... as a woman.... my woman" Tommy spat out, before pressing her head against the moquette of the stairs, unbothered by the discomfort he was causing her by holding the soft skin of her cheek against that material.

His hold on her hair got tighter as his other hand traveled down, between her legs... moving skillfully aside her panties before thrusting one finger in while he circled roughly her clit.

His eyes closed and he groaned softly at the small thrusts of her hips cause by the jolts of pleasure he was giving her. All rubbing against his aching cock so well.

As Thomas opened his mouth again his tone was more dominating and demanding even if it was breathless

"Just like that... fuck" he cursed softly, opening his pants quickly to pull out his lenght and start grinding roughly against her lower back... his fingers still working their magic.

Y/n's whimpers and muffled cries didn't stopped his monologue after he started it. Telling her what she should have known already... how it was her duty as a wife to stay home, to keep the house in order for her husband. To listen to her husband and to be faithful to him. To support him in his business and to satisfy his needs whenever he wanted... since he was her husband.

Each point of the list was followed by a thrust of his hips and a soft groans of pleasure.

"You need to keep the home clean, to cook meals, and being faithful to your husband... you fookin'— need to look presentable and appealing at all times, making sure to be feminine and seductive for your husband whenever he wants it. Fookin' need to make sure the children are always kept up and taken care of, and you need to take— care of your husband's emotional needs as well" he continued, his groans interrupting his monologue a couple of time as he slowly approached his peak.

His cremaster muscle contracted and his jaw clenched as a soft hiss escaped his lips... his grip tightened around her hip and on her hair, making her scalp burn. Till a couple of thrusts later when he came with a low groan of her name... his cum landing on her precious dress and bare ass.

Y/n's body kept trembling due to the pleasure and the little act he was playing, teasing her cunt since he started to speak to make her desperate and needy for him.

"Understood, love?" Tommy's sweet tone, boomed in her empty head as tears kept wetting her cheeks. A soft yelp escaping her mouth when his hand slapped her pussy, hitting her clit harshly to make her squirt on him and the fabric of the moquette.

The young woman was breathing heavily, a soft sob interrupted the silence followed by a playful slap on her cheek as she kept nodding at what he asked her.

"That's a good woman, eh" Thomas hummed in a mocking tone, before getting carefully up... his icy stare remaining on her as he pumped his softening cock a couple of times

"Now up, on your feet" his business voice kicked in, more authoritarian and dominant than before. His heart was beating fast and his lust was growing even more as the time passed.

Y/n did as he said, forcing herself up on trembling legs; the shock of intense pleasure still making her head feel light and relaxed but exhausted.

As the soft, low voice of her husband smoothed her... his tender praises working as soft caresses after a harsh slap.

"That's a good little wife" he hummed out again, leading her to their bedroom as his lips kept brushing against the side of her bare neck.

"Get undressed for your husband, love" Tommy demanded, stroking her hip as he took care of his own clothes. His eyes never leaving her body as she did what he asked her, looking at him still scared but eager to feel such a surprising sensation again.

The older man's big hands pushed her softly down on the bed by the shoulders, before letting them travel softly up to her face... cupping her cheeks to make her look directly in his eyes "That's way better, isn't it, love?" He asked in a whisper, leaning down to kiss her and let her desire win over her negative thoughts.

A deep sigh left her mouth as a ticklish sensation formed on her skin while Tommy's hand traveled and explored it just like his lips. Resting tenderly against her sternum to place a hard kiss on it... a kiss that started the path of more kisses around her chest and ended with his lips wrapped around her erect nipple.

His calloused hands spread carefully his wife's bare legs, allowing him to move between them with ease while his warm tongue swirled and his lips sucked sensually, moving away with a soft pop.

"Been dying to feel your pretty warm mouth around my cock, honey" he murmured softly, brushing his nose against her jugular up to her face

"Or to feel your hands... breasts.... ass... squeezing me till I'm satisfied—" he continued, stopping just to let a throaty groan leave his body as his tip got squeezed by Y/n's cunt.

Her eyes closed quickly at the feeling of his thick lenght forcing itself inside of her tight pussy... causing a burning sensation that was eased down by the quick movements of Tommy's fingers on her clit

"Fuckk... darlin', if you keep squeezing me like this it won't last long" he murmured through a hiss, snapping his hips forward so that his cock was now fully swallowed by her pussy which held him like a vice.

Her juices started to wet his thighs shamefully as he pressed himself as close as possible to feel the bulge caused by his cock in her lower belly.

"You fookin' loving it, eh?" Tommy asked teasingly, sloppy kissing her lips as she tried to say 'yes' after a choked moan.

And it was true, she was loving it... her body was loving it.

When her husband started to move inside of her, she felt tears gathering in her eyes at the contrast of his firm and quick but still sensual thrusts and his tender, loving kisses.

It was different from the quick fuck on the stairs or the cold sex they had during the honeymoon, he wanted to show her and make her take the right choice... either be fucked like a useless whore or like his wife.

The message was clear and his demeanour was really fucking with her mind just like his body was doing to hers.

She was his wife... his wife.

He kept repeating it as he slowly reached his peak again, his firm but loving grip forced her to look him in the eyes as her back arched and a silent moan left her body. Her toes curled against the cold sheet of their bed, making her realize how warm her body actually was at that moment.

"Fookin' hell, cream around my cock, love" Tommy ordered, lost in pleasure... snapping his hips forward a couple of times before going for a deeper one and stop right there.

His sharp jaw dropping as a moan left his mouth, his seed shot inside of her cunt as curses and praises joined the moment. She could feel it and she was sure that it would have caused consequences as well as a drastic change in their life.

Y/n Shelby... was Tommy's wife.

Only his, his damn property and.. woman. Not anyone else's and he had just proved his point.

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rotthepoet · 6 months ago

Text

Fight - M.Riddle

Summary: Mattheo Riddle breaks your nose, and he kinda feels bad about it.

~2.3k words

Content: Modern Au, Characters are 18+, No use of Y/N, No determined house, Mattheo doesn't like using his words, descriptions of fighting and blood, maybe ooc everyone? dunno this fandom is weird i love it, mention of drug use(tobacco, weed, alcohol), Mattheo's love language is acts of service and gift giving fight me, rushed ending sorry chat i'm getting back into writing again, not proof read

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Violence isn’t something I’m particularly fond of. Not for any reason, but I suppose you really don’t need a reason to hate something so savage. I don’t like action movies, the idea of contact sports and martial arts in the muggle world is barbaric to me, and even watching beaters and chasers hurdle towards each other on the Quidditch pitch makes me cringe.

Hogwarts is full of many fights. They're unavoidable, I suppose. Occasionally, the more disorderly underclassmen will break out into a wizard’s duel. Bright flashes of light and the screams of ignorantly casted hexes will draw onlookers nearby, blocking up the already crowded hallways with a ring of students encouraging their peers with reckless abandon. In fact, there were rumors of a secret dueling club that had been organizing these fights for centuries.

However, there are only so many different hexes and jinxes to terrorize and entertain your classmates with before things become… stale. This conundrum, along with unstable hormones, had sparked a new infatuation among Hogwarts upperclassmen.

Fist-fights.

The idea was childish. Any problem imaginable could be sorted with words, or even wands, and yet both boys and girls fought nail, tooth, and, claw just for an ounce of respect. Maybe an ounce of attention. If I remember right, even an ounce of weed (This was the day many students had to undergo a veritaserum-induced interrogation.) . It was foolish, and oftentimes fights were shut down by the hands of professors within moments.

That did not seem to be the case today.

As if by some miracle, or in my case a misfortune, professors seemed to be distinctly absent from the hallways in which Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott, seventh year Slytherin’s and star quidditch players, beat each other into a pulp.

And by my luck, I was stuck at the barricade of sorts, facing the fight without obstruction as my peers tried to press closer, obscuring my exit from the situation.

The two of them screamed about who-knows-what, and they flashed between the floor and standing upright. The two of them sauntered and stumbled around, each collision of fist to skin sent my stomach reeling with nausea.

Theodore’s lip was busted and an uncomfortable looking bruise was already forming around his eye. He shrugged-more-so ripped- his robe off and swung wildly at Mattheo, making him back up.

Now, Mattheo Riddle is a tall man. A solid 6 foot if not taller, muscular build after a few years on the Slytherin’s Quidditch team. He was not someone you would want to stand up against, or really be near in general.

The crowd collectively gasped and hollered as he stumbled backwards, right towards me. Against the thick wall of students, I had no where to go. He swung his arm back, fast and powerful.

The sickening crack was all I could hear. Then all I could see were his angry eyes widening in realization that he had hit something other than Theodore. His head swiveled around, and I almost thought he would apologize before a blow landed in his gut, leaving him to curl over and writhe in pain on his knees. At this point, I believe Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini had forced themselves into the ring to separate Riddle and Nott.

I don’t remember falling backwards, but I was in the strong hands of another classmate while a few people asked if I was okay. I tasted blood on my lips. Tears slipped down my cheeks heavy and hot, and blood dripped profusely from my nose.

It was Pansy Parkinson that escorted be to the hospital wing.

Pansy was a pretty girl, black hair, silver jewelry, and eyes sharper than a new blade. She wasn’t the most approachable girl I had ever spoken to, but after an assigned pairing in potions, we had become quite the duo. She rambled on about how she’ll have ‘Matt’ apologize, and how ‘the boys’ were going to be in so much shit.

My nose was broken, fixed with a simple, “Episkey!”, from Madam Promfrey, and I was sent on my merry way with Pansy at my side. She, and I do mean this fondly, droned on about how sorry she was( “Pansy, I said it was fine.” “No, it isn’t fine! Those nitwits could have done far worse-“) and how she’ll have Riddle pay me back.

“Really, he is a nice guy!”

“So I’ve heard…” I mumbled, a migraine settling in, and I had half a mind to turn back around to the hospital wing and demand enough tonic to let me sleep for a week.

“Why don’t I just take you back to my dorm and we can watch a movie, eat a few snacks. I still have a ton a chocolate frogs left from our last sleepover.”

I sighed, and gave a small smile. I didn’t really feel like it, but if it would make dear Pansy stop worrying, I folded.

The Slytherin dungeons were oddly warm considering being so far underneath the Black Lake. The stained glass casted rays of green and blue lighting among the common room, and fish swam past the great windows. The common room was nearly empty save for a few students among the chairs reading, a couple playing wizard chess, and a small group of familiar faces occupying the couches in front of the fire place.

The first to turn around was Blaise Zabini, and he greeted Pansy with a smile, then turned to me with a small wince. “How're you feeling?”

“Better now. Thank you.”

Zabini nodded, turning his gaze back to the ever incessantly whining Malfoy. Pansy rolled her eyes, and I could feel the ‘he turned me into a lesbian,’ building in her chest. We retired to her room before her own cat-fight could break out

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It was around 2 am when we emerged from Pansy’s room again, both hungry and unable to sleep even after indulging in far too many sweets. She took my hand, racing me down flights of stairs until we stumbled back into the common room with a small giggle that abruptly stopped at the sight of the same group of boys on the couch. Two new heads had joined the count, and simultaneously each turned to face the two of us.

I locked eyes with Mattheo Riddle, and he looked away.

Fucking dick.

“What was it this time?” Pansy broke the silence, dragging me to the couch now. She sat at the end, myself in the middle, and coincidentally, Riddle on my other side.

Theodore Nott, who sat across the center table from Riddle, nursing his swollen eye with an ice bag answered. “He broke my pipe.”

Mattheo Riddle rolled his eyes, “I said I'm sorry and I'll pay you back." He snapped, and Nott yelled something about that being his favorite glass.

Pansy tsk’d them, reaching for the bowl of fruit on the table, plucking herself an apple and offering me an orange. My nails, cut short due to nervous picking and biting, dug at the thick skin. I lifted my head only when I heard my name being spoken, and I met Nott’s gaze.

“How’s your nose?”

I swore he made a snide glance at Riddle, who visibly tense and turned farther away from me.

“It’s fine. Easily fixed.” I turned my gaze back to the orange, biting my cheek in frustration as my nail continued to slip from the peel. A blush rose to my cheeks in frustration.

“So it was broken. You need to watch where you’re swinging those damn elbows, Riddle.”

Riddle gave Nott the finger, and the company around us laughed. I laughed along, but sighed as I ultimately gave up trying to peel the orange. Pathetic. At least no one had seemed to notice or care.

“No one would have gotten hurt had you not been a little bitch.” Snapped Mattheo to Theodore, and his bruised hand grabbed the orange from my own so quickly I almost didn’t realize it had happened.

His fingers worked swiftly, removing the skin of the fruit before he put it back in my hands. He stood up, “I’m sick of your shit, going to bed. Don’t make too much noise when you come up.” He mumbled, and Theodore rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist, princess.”

I stared down at the peeled orange in my hand. Slowly, I pulled a carpel from the rest of the fruit.

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Things had seemed to turn around for me, lately.

Maybe it was a lucky streak, but the bench I frequented in my free time to read had been consistently available despite being a popular spot most days. Along with that, My favorite seat in History of Magic, which had been unrightfully stolen by a group of friends, had been returned to me (It was my favorite because it's located on the far back wall, perfect for an unseen nap). I even walked into potions and found a little note of all the questions that were to be asked during the class, and all of their answers.

Pansy laid her head in my lap, whining about a girl she was pining for, while I flipped through pages of an uninteresting book on potion ingredients. She sat up slowly, yawning and stretching her arms above her head. "It's the weekend, what are we doing here? Lets go for a walk." she urged, and I grabbed my bag and followed. We walked through hallways mindlessly, chatting about the most recent rumors.

There was a yell from down the hall as we turned a corner, and before either of us could look, a body came hurdling into mine. I fell to the ground, hard enough that the air was knocked from my lungs. I gasped desperately, tears rushing to my eyes at the sudden pain of hard stone on my back, and a massive body on top of me.

It pushed itself up onto its hands, hovering over me.

I looked Mattheo Riddle square in the eye, and I could see the color drain from his face.

"Well? Get off of her!" I heard Pansy shriek, and once he had moved, Pansy helped me off the ground. I looked up at her, smiling in thanks, before I met Mattheo Riddle's gaze again. He stared at me for a moment longer, opening his mouth to say something. He shut it again, and turned away. Zabini raced around the corner, eyes wide as he took in the scene.

"You beat her up again?"

The look Mattheo gave Blaise sent a chill down my spine.

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The next day, Pansy and I found a box of chocolates outside of my dorm.

"Someone has a secret admirer!" She chimed in a sing-song voice.

I blushed a little bit at the notion. It was nice to think, but I insisted it was left at the wrong door and we should leave it. After much convincing, Pansy folded.

"I'm sure it's meant for you. You're probably hurting someone's feelings," She sighed.

"Then they should have left a note."

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It was frigid outside, the wind nipping at my nose, and I pulled my scarf further over my face. The courtyard was empty, most everyone opting to hide away in the warmth of their common rooms, and I started to feel like a fool for daring to come outside. At least it was quiet. I collected my bag, sliding my books into their place when the crunch of snow behind me sent be jumping in surprise.

I whipped my head around and audibly gasped when I met dark brown eyes.

"Do you not like chocolate?"

The question took me off guard, and I obviously took too long to answer when Mattheo started talking again.

"It's fine if you don't. I didn't really know what you would have liked," Mattheo rubbed his hands together, suddenly looking anywhere but at me. He looked nervous. Was Mattheo Riddle nervous?

"Just… It was an…" he stumbled over his words, scratching at his palm. "Y'know… Merlin, will you just say something?" he snapped, tugging on his scarf.

I couldn't help but stare at him. He looked so.. small.

"You got me chocolate?"

"Did… you not get it? I left it outside of your door."

I bit the inside of my cheek. Mattheo Riddle had gotten me chocolates. Why? "I didn't think they were for me."

"Why wouldn't they have been?"

"I thought someone had just left them at the wrong door."

Mattheo looked appalled at the very notion. He ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep, frustrated breath. "Why would I have left chocolates outside of anyone else's door?"

"You didn't leave a note. I didn't know who they were for, or what they were for, or if they were poisoned!"

Mattheo groaned, mumbling something about Zabini lying when he said girls were clever, "Well they were for you! To… apologize! For breaking your nose, and then knocking you over, and what I was doing before just didn't seem like enough!"

My mouth felt dry, and I shook my head. "What you were doing before? You could have just said sorry!"

Mattheo sighed, "The.. the seats in class- I had detention for weeks because I knew you liked napping in history of magic, and you were struggling in potions- and.. Really I deserve a 'thank you'!"

"Well then, Thank you."

A blush crept up to Matheo's cheeks, though I'm sure it was just the cold getting to him.

"I'm sorry."

I smiled, reaching to grab my bag off of the bench. "I forgive you."

Mattheo grabbed the bag before I could, and I looked up at him in confusion as he slung it over his shoulder. 'I'll carry it for you," Is all he mumbled while pulling his scarf tighter around his red face.

#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo x you

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just-some-random-blogger · 5 months ago

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Snow Angel

Jacaerys' Version

I'll angel in the snow until I'm worthy but if it kills me, I tried.

Gwyane's Version ❄ Daemon's Version ❄ Aegon's Version ❄ Aemond's Version ❄ Jacaerys' Version ❄ Cregan's Version ❄ Criston's Version

Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!Reader | 800< | cw: fem!reader, targcest, reader is aemond's twin, angst, violence, blood, war, death, typos, etc.

A/N: renee rapp my beloved. jacaerys and aemond's version go hand in hand

You remember talking about running away with Jace when you were kids. You told him about your plans to pack your dresses, flee on your dragon, and live off lemon cakes. You cried when he laughed at you and swore never to speak to him again.

But then he did what he did best and cast your worries away. He panicked, unintending to cause you sadness, then made a fool of himself until he got you to smile. And when you did, he promised to himself never to make you cry again.

"Why do you want to run away anyway?" Jacaerys asks after you were calmer, finding a place beside you on the grass on which you sat.

You wipe your nose on your sleeve and give him a look, "is it really not obvious?"

He grows a bit nervous. He internally denies it's because he's made you cry.

"You like teasing Aemond," you turn to your shoes, "Aemond likes teasing me-"

"He does?"

You turn back to him.

"Then I will fight him for it."

"But that's the problem Jace!" you feel your lips quiver, "it's all so horrid. I don't like how you fight," you pull on the grass, "I don't like how he fights me. I don't like fighting."

For a moment, Jacaerys feels guilty. He regrets arguing with Aemond... but then again, he deserved it.

"I don't understand," you speak quietly, "we're twins. I am his half and he is mine. We shared the same womb and yet he acts like we share nothing in common..." your voice becomes shaky, "why does he dislike me so?"

Gods, he so deserved it.

You muse to him about other things your wretched twin brother has done to you, and this becomes your ritual. Every time you are together, you vent to him, and he listens. But one day, his family leaves King's Landing and, again, he does the thing he's promised he'd never do: he made you cry.

He writes to you every week after leaving. He tells you how much he misses you. He tells you how much he misses your laugh, your bad jests, even your dolls, and how Vermax was lonely without your dragon to fly with.

And so one day, in your reply, you ask to fly with him in secret. You ask to meetup somewhere no one would think to look for either of you, then you spend the day enjoying each other's company. None would know about your whereabouts but each other.

But then your family fractured, there was them and there was you, and you found each other opposite sides. One day, you simply could not take it, so you wrote to him: meet me in our secret place.

In truth, you did not expect him to show, but when he did, you were relieved to see him... until he opened his mouth.

"What do you want from me, Aunt?" Jacaerys spoke.

You knit your brows, "what?"

"Have you come to surrender? To pledge yourself to the one true Queen?"

You shake your head in disbelief of what you were hearing. You walk towards him, "Jace, I-"

"She will accept you," he says, "she will accept all of you. You need just bend the-"

"Run away with me," you press your hand to his chest.

He stares at you, nostrils flaring, line forming between his brows.

You rapidly shake your head, "you know that's all I've ever wanted. To be done and rid of this bother."

Jacaerys takes your hand and whispers your name, "you know it is not that simple."

"We can make it simple. Let us ride off and-"

"You have a duty to your family, as do I."

"And what of the duty to our hearts?" you clutch his hand. His jaw clenches. You mutter, "there is no greater duty than fulfilling that of what's borne from love."

He does not respond to you. Your eyes search his. Your grip tightens. He releases you. Soon he's breaking his promise all over again. Tears spill over as you pull away from him, "am I not worthy enough of even this?"

He calls your name as you step back. Before he can speak, his attention is taken by the sky and the loud sound of flapping dragon wings. It was unmistakably Vhagar.

You are unable to keep him from riding off and facing the gargantuan. You look up and watch your brother unleash his fury upon him. You knew better than to get in the way, but you would not have Jacaerys killed when you were the one who called him here in the first place.

You get on your mount and do your best to catch Aemond's attention. You scream and shout but to no avail, not until your dragon knocks into the tail of your twin's.

You did not expect him to be so angry. You did not expect him to attack you. You could do nothing as you watched your dragon choke in the maw of your brother's ride. The sound of your own screams deafen you, and so you hear not the sound of him screaming out your name.

And as you descend from the height, Jacaerys is mortified. He commands Vermax to catch you, and he tries his best, but even his best was not enough to save you from your end.

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys fanfic #jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys angst #jacaerys fic #jacaerys velaryon fluff #jacaerys velaryon angst #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon angst

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spidehpig · 7 months ago

Text

the crooks are out, and the streets are grey

aka a prison pen pal au

HUUUUGE fucking thank you to @ceilidho for all of the writing advice and beta reading this and just generally being a big motivation and indulging in all of my random cod thoughts lol

this is incredibly self-indulgent. tags will be updated accordingly with a warning on each chapter when necessary. i'm a big fan of ghoap being perverted violent freaks if you couldn't tell.

thanks for reading besties. sorry there isn't any direct reader x ghost interaction yet. i promise it's coming.

you can also find me on twitter

[cw implied sexual harassment, future dubcon, explicit sexual content] 18+ MDNI

AO3

Part 1

It starts with a little slip of paper shoved under the bars of his shared cell with Soap.

An official notice to inform inmates of the start of a new pen pal program the following week. Some rehabilitative bullshit about encouraging good behavior and rehabilitating prisoners on track to be released within the next few years. Ghost can’t help but roll his eyes as he crumples up the slip of paper and makes his way to the prison yard. Doesn’t give it another thought.

That is until he receives a letter. Packaged in a little envelope with the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen, addressed to the one and only Simon V. Riley: Inmate #634. The envelope had been torn open with a letter opener, read by prison staff, and searched for contraband, of course, before it made its way through the slot of his cell door. It comes in a lilac envelope and it's even adorned with a pretty little heart right next to his name scrawled in cursive.

Ghost shoves the pastry he swiped in the cafeteria from a new inmate into his mouth as he rips open the letter with mild interest. He lets out a snort when he sees that the staple holding the pages of the letter together was ripped out by whatever guard had gotten stuck with mail duty today. He knows that you’ll have already received an angry voicemail from the prison advising you that all mail to inmates must be paperclip and staple free upon arrival.

He glances over the letter with disinterest, a couple paragraphs introducing yourself and one detailing your excitement about joining the program. He only skims his way to the second page where you start to ask him questions about himself before he’s crumpling up the pages to shove under his bunk. He’ll be free of this place in a mere sixteen months; doesn’t need a bloody pen pal to encourage good behavior.

He knows that there is anger and violence rooted deep within him. On a good day, it simmers in his chest, a warm heat that lies dormant. On bad days, it burns so hot that he can feel the angry heat creep up into his throat. It makes the words that spill from his mouth cruel, and his calloused fingers twitch as he stomps his way over to the courtyard to beat the old punching bag until his shirt is soaked through with sweat and his knuckles are raw and bloody.

Not all bad days end with him wrapping his split knuckles with bandages from the infirmary. Sometimes they end with him in solitary and picking another inmate’s dried blood from underneath his fingernails. He hasn’t had a bad day like that in over a year now.

If he’s being honest with himself, it’s only because he doesn’t want to jeopardize his early release. Most of the other inmates know well enough now to leave Ghost be. The last inmate to piss Ghost off ended up in the infirmary with three broken ribs and two of his own teeth spat into his palm.

Poor sod ducks his head like a quivering dog every time he meets Ghost’s gaze now; surely won’t make the mistake of cutting in front of him in line at the cafeteria again. Ghost hasn’t been outside of a prison in the last seventeen years but he can’t imagine a civilian would try to swipe food from his plate or pick a fight with him just to see if they could win it.

So he lies through his teeth at every psych evaluation. Tells the doctors that the exercises they suggested are helping him manage his anger. He has a feeling they don’t quite believe him, but he hasn’t had an episode in over a year to justify their reservations. And since they don’t question his ability to rehabilitate into civilian life, he tells himself that he’ll be fine on the outside. All he has to do is keep to himself until Johnny gets released eight months after him. He just needs to behave for another year and he doesn’t see how writing letters would make any difference.

He had thought that if he just ignored the letters they would eventually stop coming, but despite his obvious reluctance to partake in the program, the letters keep coming. Every last one in a pretty lilac envelope, notably staple free since the first one. He gleans little from her letters. Some young bird that signed up for this pen pal exchange. She’s twenty-one and has an interest in criminology.

Ghost decides that he hates her for it.

Each letter gets shoved under the bunk; most of the time he doesn’t even bother to open and read them. He rolls his eyes when Soap whines and begs to trade pen pals with him. Apparently the poor mutt got stuck with some seventy-four year old retired veteran and he doesn’t think it's fair that Ghost got paired with a young woman.

It isn’t until he receives yet another letter from his unwanted pen pal, this time addressed from another country, that something finally makes him stop in his tracks. The bird is apparently studying abroad and when he opens the envelope, a flimsy polaroid floats down into his lap. He doesn’t bother to read the newest letter and instead snatches the picture up between his thick fingers. He can’t help the groan that escapes his lips the second he flips the polaroid picture over.

Ghost hardly even looks at the sweet smile and bright blue ocean behind her. No, that’s not what catches his attention. His gaze immediately flicks down to the swell of her breasts taking up half of the image. What would be an innocent selfie to most might as well be a page ripped straight from a playboy magazine to Ghost. Clearly taken at the beach after a swim in the ocean, sweat and ocean water glistening on your skin, and Ghost can see the peaks of your nipples poking through your thin bikini top.

And fuck is that enough for him. He hasn’t had a woman in, well, ever, and the guards keep confiscating his playboy magazines, so this will have to do. A low grunt escapes his chest as he reaches down to palm his cock that’s now twitching to attention. He pauses to make sure Soap is still snoring, loudly , in the bunk above him before he reaches down to grope at his stiffening prick. Unzips himself from his prison issued track pants and palms at his stiffening cock over the thin fabric of his briefs.

He hisses between his teeth when he dips his hand under the band of his briefs and the rough skin of his palm tugs against the sensitive skin of his cock. Has to yank his hand back and spit into his palm before wrapping his thick fingers around the base of his cock. His other hand grips the picture of you between his fingertips as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal his swollen tip already leaking precum. It twitches in his hand as another glob of precum leaks down his prick.

He has half a mind to wake Soap up and shove his cock down the boy’s throat. If he fucks his throat deep enough he could pretend it’s the tight heat of your cunt clenching around his cock while he laps at one of the nipples peaking through your bikini.

Ghost’s fantasy is shattered the second the little shit sleeping above him wakes with a loud snort. He watches Soap’s head peek over the side of his bunk, pretty blue eyes clouded with sleep as his disheveled mohawk dangles over the metal bunk.

“Yeh could’ve asked for a helping hand yaknow that, Ghost. Yeh know I’d—” Soap’s voice cuts off abruptly, eyes narrowing on the polaroid clutched in Ghost’s hand and the other wrapped around his prick.

”Whatcha got there, Ghost?” Soap drawls, accent still thick from sleep.

”Fuck off, Johnny,” Ghost grunts as he looks back down at your picture and gives his cock another stroke.

No use in deterring his mutt once his sight is set on a bone though. He feels the bunk shake and squeak as Soap scrambles down the ladder, the pervert already tenting his boxers as he crawls into Ghost’s bed.

”I said fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost grits his teeth and clutches your picture to his chest. Trying desperately to reimagine the swell of your tits pressed against his chest when you finally sink down on his cock. But Soap is relentless. His needy slut straddles Ghost’s thighs with a smirk on his face.

And fuck it, his boy is gagging for it, he might as well. He doesn’t acknowledge Soap’s incessant teasing and instead fists a hand through his soft mohawk before shoving the brat’s head between his legs.

A low growl escapes his chest as the man’s lips wrap around his throbbing cock. And fuck, does his mouth feel good, tight and wet as his soft lips slide down Ghost’s length, throat swallowing around him. He loses himself in the feel of Soap’s practiced mouth, eyes only snapping open when Soap lets out a deep moan. Before he can even think, the palm of his hand is connecting with Soap’s cheek, hard . It draws a low moan from Soap’s throat which only serves to irritate Ghost more.

”Shut up,” Ghost snaps and pushes Soap’s head down on his cock until he feels the man flinch and gag around his prick. Usually he loves to hear the whorish sounds that fall from his boy’s pretty lips but right now, he’s trying to imagine the way you’d cry out and beg as he inches his cock into the tight heat of your cunt. Ghost slaps his boy across the cheek again when Soap lets out a low growl and scrapes his teeth on the underside of his cock.

Soap seems to get the message, his moans and growls slowly quiet, swirling his tongue around Ghost’s swollen glands before sinking down until his nose is buried in Ghost’s pubic hair. Ghost loses himself in the wet heat of Soap’s throat once more, eyes rolling back as his head knocks back against his pillow, your pretty smile contorting itself into a cry as he bullies his cock into your cunt. His hips buck and bruise the back of Soap’s throat with every thrust while he dreams of fucking your pretty cunt full of his cum. He cums with a snarl on his lips and Johnny gagging around him. Holds Soap down on his cock as he reaches down to squeeze at his balls one last time before ripping the boy off his cock with a sputtering gasp.

Soap is immediately scrambling up the bed, grinding his prick against the swell of Ghost’s thigh.

”C’mon, Ghost, lemme see, just a peek I swear that’s all I need,” Soap whines, frantically grinding his cock against Ghost’s leg. Ghost blinks as the bliss from his orgasm melts away, the bunk creaking from the force of Soap’s desperate thrusts, the man panting and grunting above him.

He languidly flips your photo between his fingers, any streak of possessiveness gone now, as long as it’ll get his mutt to stop humping his leg faster so he can get some sleep.

“Ah, fuck , Ghost, looks bonnie, don’t she,” Soap pants as his eyes flit over your bikini photo, the grind of his hips losing their rhythm for a moment.

“Bet ‘er ass hasn’t been fucked yet,” Soap groans.

”Make ‘er take us both.”

”Bet she tastes sweet.”

”Pretty thing.”

Ghost barely registers Soap’s babbling above him, just grabs his ass and guides his hips against his thigh until Soap is cumming in his briefs with a low moan. When the boy finally calms down enough to catch his breath, he pulls the cum soaked briefs off of his boy and tosses them across the cell before pulling the mutt to his chest as they both doze off.

Ghost wakes annoyed, drenched in sweat and cum and Soap snoring loudly against his neck. The little shit has the audacity to grumble and pout when he makes Soap go sleep in his own bunk. When he hears Soap’s start to snore, he sits up, stealing Soap’s pencil and a spare sheet of paper. He starts scribbling words back to you. The first letter he’s responded to. His handwriting is ugly and near illegible, but he thinks you should be able to read most of it. He hangs his arms out of the bars of his cell and whistles at the guard stationed down the hall. Shoves his letter to you in the guard’s hand and grunts at him to send it to his bird.

The guard, Andrews, he thinks, scoffs snatching the letter from Ghost’s fingertips before banging on the cell door.

”MacTavish! You got a letter for your lovebird too?”

Ghost groans, already prepared for the bitchfest that’s about to happen.

Soap awakes with a loud snort, head snapping up over the edge of his bunk and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.”

“Aye fuck off, you limp dick prick,” Soap growls and scrambles down the rickety bunk to press the length of his body against the cell bars as he curses the guard that taunted him. A litany of Scottish curses fall from his lips as Soap presses his forehead to the bars and goads the guard into approaching their shared cell. The little spitfire has himself so worked up he’s pacing the length of their cell and spewing insults at the guards on duty.

“I know yer playing favorites, Andrews. Think yer funny giving me some old bastard, don’t yeh?” Soap hollers into the hallway and slams a fist against the bars of their cell, pressing his forehead against the bars once again, growling and swearing some more when Andrews takes a step back, barking out a harsh laugh. Ghost can practically see the metaphorical fur on Soap’s hind spike up at that, just a moment before he spits at the guard’s feet. Andrews, the scrawny little fucker, lurches forward to swat at Soap’s fists clenched around the bars of their cell with his baton.

“You better back up and watch that mouth of yours Mactavish, or it’ll be another two days in solitary for you,” Andrews snaps at Soap and shoots a knowing directly at Ghost.

And oh does Ghost hate when Soap gets sent to solitary. Can’t use his boy’s holes when he’s locked up on the other side of the prison. The rough drag of his own fist just can’t compete with the tight heat of Johnny’s throat or arse. Especially now that he’s got a bird back home to think about. Ghost grips the back of Soap’s sweat soaked shirt and yanks him back from the cell bars, grunting at him to give it a fuck rest. Ghost retreats to his bunk when Soap finally cools off, watching as Soap flops down onto the chair at their shared desk and starts to angrily scribble in his journal, occasionally grumbling to himself under his breath. He settles back against his pillow, content with thinking about his new bird on the outside until the guards release them for breakfast. He almost feels bad about not writing to you sooner. Poor girl tired of her letters going unanswered, you really were just begging for his attention when you sent a violent inmate a photo of your tits now, weren’t you?

#cod #ghoap drabble #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x you #soap x you #ghoap x you #ghoap #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #my fic

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wttcsms · 9 months ago

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angels like you can't fly down here with me (i'm everything they say i would be), megumi fushiguro ;

pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 11k synopsis people like him don't get happy endings but megumi fushiguro (foolishly) considers himself to be the exception — after all, he has you. content contains yakuza au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, attempted sa, minor violence & depictions of blood author's note if ur on my ao3, you know this is from 2021!!! my writing has changed up since then, but i'm going to be releasing a revised version of this which will be rewritten and feature more scenes, more worldbuilding, more plot, relationship and character development, etc!! i figured releasing this on tumblr would help me gauge how worthwhile revision of this fic will be, so lmk if u like this au & want to see it become even better <3

Don’t do it.

He repeats the command inside his head again, and then one more time for good measure. (And then another time, just to drive the point across.)

He won’t — can’t; isn’t really allowed to — get into (another!) fight.

(Well, there’s a part of Megumi that knows that despite Gojo’s sing-songy warning of “now, now, Megumi, I don’t need a frequent visitor’s card for the principal’s office”, he doesn’t actually care. All he’s really concerned about — if the mild interest the reckless teenager turned legal guardian shows can even be called that — is whether or not Megumi wins.

And he does.

Every. Single. Time.)

For the most part, Megumi Fushiguro is fairly stoic in general, but to a concerning degree when one accounts for the fact that he’s only ten years old. For the odd three or so years he’s been under Gojo’s wing, Megumi’s mask of disinterest stopped becoming a mask and started becoming a part of him.

(Try as he might, Gojo’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Maybe the connection between them might have been stronger if Gojo was a bit more responsible and if he was actually present, but he’s got his own shit to deal with. Besides, Gojo’s under the impression that what he’s doing isn’t cruel, but rather a means to an end. Megumi’s never going to be able to get stronger if he doesn’t learn how to survive on his own.

After all, being alone and having to fight to survive is the life people like them live.)

The older preteens in the area have a bad habit of picking on the younger students. Because the elementary and middle schools are so close together, the younger students who have the misfortune of walking alone tend to be targets for bullies in need of pocket change or a good laugh. Most of the time, they get both.

As of late, everyone’s favorite target happens to be Megumi Fushiguro, the boy with the messy black hair and indifferent attitude, even when confronted by boys two years his senior and almost a whole entire head taller than him.

Last week, Megumi gave the three older boys dumb enough to harass him for money bloody noses, bruised egos, and a thirst for revenge. That was the first (and supposed to be the last) time he got into a fight (for this school year, at least — something Gojo had told him, while winking). So, even when the trio is back together again, taunting him and trying to get him to take the first swing, Megumi keeps walking forward with his perpetual look of disinterest, those cold blue eyes of his staring straight at the path ahead of him, never paying any mind to the gangly bodies of the middle school boys who keep trying to block him from moving.

Don’t do it.

He tells himself this once more. You don’t want to have to inconvenience Gojo. Then, you’ll be stuck listening to him pretend to lecture you. You don’t like spending too much time with Gojo. He’ll make weird jokes.

The thought of having to deal with Gojo’s presence is enough to get Megumi to unclench his fists.

“Move.”

It’s the first thing he says to the group since they started following him after school. He tells the boy with the brown hair this. The brunet seems to be their ringleader of sorts, and even as nothing more than a ten year old child, Megumi knows that being twelve/thirteen and harassing little kids for sport is a sign of patheticness that will only grow and fester into something darker unless someone beats some sense into them. Obviously, they didn’t learn their lesson from last week.

“Huh? What the hell did ya just say, ya little brat?” The brown haired boy sneers, looking down at Megumi.

School has just let out, so there are dozens of kids of all ages walking down the sidewalk. They’re all aware of the situation happening, but everyone chooses to turn a blind eye to it. Partly because this is such a common occurrence that it just starts to become something that blends into the scenery, but also because there are some rumors surrounding the Fushiguro kid that’s enough to make anyone with a heart of gold reluctant to come to his rescue.

The main rumor circulating around the school is that Megumi Fushiguro has ties to the yakuza. Granted, most kids his age have no idea what the yakuza is, and even those who somewhat know only know through exaggerated definitions from their older siblings. Generally, everyone just accepts the fact that the yakuza is bad, and by default, Megumi Fushiguro must be bad too. Older siblings tell their younger siblings to avoid “that boy” at all costs, unless they want to end up with a finger cut off. Megumi’s classmates huddle together and conveniently choose to look everywhere else but at him when on the playground.

For anyone else, this might have been enough to cause some hurt feelings. Everyone thinks the boy must be some type of stupid to be so oblivious to the rumors centered around him, but the truth is this: Megumi is well aware of what people whisper about behind his back; he just doesn’t care enough to prove them wrong.

And they’re not wrong, anyway.

(For some parts of the rumors, at least.)

Because it’s true — Megumi does have ties to the yakuza. His father, who he can’t seem to attach neither a name nor a face to, must have done something bad. Something bad enough to have him cross paths with Satoru Gojo, the young head of the Gojo Clan, one of Tokyo’s most prominent crime families. It’s the same Gojo who decided to adopt both Megumi and his stepsister, Tsumiki, despite having nothing (so far) to gain from it. After all, why would a teenager willingly assign himself the responsibilities of caring for small children — one who resembles the man that tried to kill him and the other being an ill little girl confined to a hospital bed for who knows how long. All Gojo gets from this deal is a headache, bills, and more problems than necessary.

Megumi’s not really sure how the rumors started in the first place. He thinks it’s because kids his age are easily influenced and have a tendency to run wild with their imaginations. With the rising popularity of gangs from the high school students, this interest seems to have trickled all the way down to the elementary levels. Megumi certainly fits the description of their idea of someone from the yakuza: silent, secretive, scary.

(If they were a little bit older, maybe they would have just seen him as an introvert.)

No matter how ridiculous the rumors get, though, it doesn’t change the fact that the root of them is true: he is connected to the yakuza. After all, he’s being primed and prepped to be someone of value in the clan. Once you’re tied with the likes of them, you might as well just resign to the knot fate’s trapped you with. He’s learned quickly that the only thing harder than getting into the yakuza is getting out.

And because his sister’s and his life both depend on him doing as he’s told, getting out is a funny pipe dream at best and the Fushiguro siblings’ cause of death at worst.

“I told you to move. You’re blocking my way.” Megumi’s tone of voice betrays nothing. Annoyance, maybe, but he speaks flatly regardless of how he’s truly feeling. Gojo says it’s kinda creepy. Gojo also says that being a little creepy isn’t bad.

(Gojo should know; he’s a certified creep in Megumi’s eyes.)

“Oh — so the little boy can speak up.” The boy with blond hair laughs. It’s a nasally sound that grates Megumi’s ears.

He’s not an idiot. Megumi is well aware of the fact that no matter how much he feels like it isn’t true, he’s still just a little ten year old boy. He should be playing with the toy cars Gojo bought him, not worrying about the gritty future that lies ahead. But still, the phrase rubs him the wrong way.

Little boy.

He wasn’t so little when he kicked them down to his height before properly bashing their faces, now was he? Even now, he can feel the anger coming up. He clenches his fists, wondering if he’ll get suspended for fighting right next to school property.

“Leave him alone.”

Another voice appears, but not from any of the boys. No — this time, it’s coming from a little girl on the sidewalk across from theirs. Everyone involved turns to stare at the source of such a command and are greeted with the sight of you with a Hello Kitty backpack. You’ve got a frown on your face that doesn’t match the brightness of your pink outfit.

Megumi recognizes you instantly. You’re in the same class as him. You were in the same class as him last year, too. He tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish here — and why.

He knows his social standing in the school. If he’s at the bottom, you’re right at the top. A beaming pillar of light, everyone flocks to you like moths after a flame. But you’re alone today, not surrounded by the usual crowd of boys and girls who are often vying for your attention. Seeing you alone enables him to see you more clearly, without all the distractions getting in his way.

You’re small. Shorter than him, and way shorter than the middle school boys. You’ve got a bow in your hair and brand new shoes on your feet. If anybody should be socially aware, it has to be you. Those at the top, Megumi knows, like to remind everyone of their placement. You shouldn’t be here. You should be ignoring him like he’s got the plague, just like everyone else.

All three of the boys start to laugh after sizing you up. The laughter only serves to make you even more irritated, but you can’t speak because one of them is already talking through his laughs.

“Don’t tell me. Is this your girlfriend?”

The group erupts into more laughter, and while Megumi’s expression remains the same as it’s been for the past few minutes, yours only shows your growing contempt.

“She’s no one.” Megumi throws you an odd look, one of neither annoyance nor gratitude for trying to help him out. He uses your presence as a distraction, and he manages to take a few more steps before one of the boys is yanking him back by his bookbag.

“Grab her.” One of the boys says, and the third boy, the one with the messy red hair, starts to cross the street.

Megumi watches as you stay right where you are. Are you stupid? Why won’t you run? The boy still has a solid grip on his bookbag, keeping him in place. He wonders if it’ll be a waste of his breath if he tells you to start running — you probably wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

But then Megumi figures out why you don’t look too frightened, because not even a second before the older boy manages to cross the street to your side of the sidewalk, a man in a suit is running towards you, a scowl on his face.

“You said you were going to the restroom, young lady!” The man scolds you while panting for breath. He surveys the scene, looking at you, and then the middle school boy by your side before turning his head and seeing Megumi in between the other two boys. “What’s going on? Is everything alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, Mr. Higashi. B-but—“ Your bottom lip starts to tremble, and even though Higashi is certain that the tears about to fall are fake, the situation itself looks serious enough to the point where he doesn’t call you out on it. “Th-these boys are being really mean.” You let out a high pitched wail that makes the boy let go of Megumi’s bookbag. “They just threatened to attack me and my friend out of nowhere.”

“Your father will be informed.” Higashi frowns, eyeing the guilty boys who look confused and a little shocked at this turn of events. “Mr. [Surname] certainly won’t be pleased to hear about this.”

The middle school boys pale when they hear the man name drop your family’s surname.

After all, it’s the same last name that’s engraved on plaques all over the school, thanking your family for the many donations they’ve received.

You enter into Megumi’s life that way: unexpectedly. He never thanked you for intervening, but it’s not like you did it for the thanks anyway. You did it, you tell him, because you figured he needed some help.

“I had it handled.” He tells you flatly. “Why are you even sitting here? Your friends keep staring at us.”

It’s true. Stories of what happened are already circulating around both schools, and while all your friends spent the whole entire day pestering you for the full story, you chose to keep quiet about the situation. And now, here you are, choosing to sit and eat lunch with Megumi, someone who also knows the true story of what went down but the only one people aren't brave enough to ask.

Your whole entire table of friends keep their heads huddled together as they go back and forth with each other, every one of them sparing glances at Megumi’s table. It makes the rice in his mouth taste stale. He should have just stayed in the classroom to eat, especially if he knew you would be bothering him.

“Gee, is that any way to treat a friend?” You huff, not at all actually annoyed with him.

“We’re not friends.”

“Too late. I told my dad we were.”

There has been one question on his mind ever since that incident. Just who exactly is your father? He’s not stupid; he knows that you must come from a wealthy family. If the buildings and auditorium named after your family isn’t enough proof, the fact that you always have the latest toys, the nicest shoes, the cutest stationery sets — that’s material proof of a spoiled princess.

You continue speaking, and as if you can read his mind, you’re already answering his question. “My daddy’s called a CEO. But the man you saw is Mr. Higashi. He takes care of me when dad’s away at work, and everything I do gets typed up in a report that dad sees every day. He wasn’t happy about what happened, so he says the boys will get in trouble. He told us not to worry, though.” You have a pleased smile on your face, waiting for Megumi to say something in reply.

“Okay.” He says, after a while. He only spoke because it seemed like you were waiting for him to. “It doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“What’s so wrong about being friends with me?” You tilt your head. Everyone wants to be friends with you. And that’s before they even figure out that you live in a real life mansion with actual servants, and that sometimes you’re allowed to eat dessert for dinner. Even without the wealth, you still draw people in, whether it be with your bright smile or cheery attitude.

“Don’t you already have enough friends?” He can’t figure out what you could possibly want with him. Even though Gojo’s got the backing of the clan and enough funds to run the Tokyo underground with cash to spare, it’s not like Megumi is in a position to take advantage of it. Gojo hands him a thick wad of cash every week with a tip to “spend wisely, hehehehe”, and Megumi takes the tip to heart. A majority of the money sits saved in his bedroom, underneath a floorboard he spent a week trying to figure out how to loosen without anyone catching on. (Which was actually easy whenever he realized that nobody seems to really watch him to begin with.) So, he doesn’t look like he has money, and isn’t that what all rich kids want? To surround themselves with equally rich kids?

“I guess.” Your bubbly mood seems to dampen a bit at the mention of the other kids. They like you, sure. But they like each other a lot more. The gap between you and the other kids isn’t noticeable at first, but the novelty of having an endless supply of company has lost its luster. Meanwhile, the glamor of your life only keeps the hoards of “friends” to grow as the days go by. It’s always “let’s have a sleepover at [Names]’s!” or “[Name], we have to go to your house because you have the best toys!”. You wonder if they like you, or the shiny things that they get when they’re with you. “But, it’s not like youhave any friends.”

“I don’t need any.” The response is quick — instinctual. Gojo, even if not the greatest guardian by any parental standards, still presses Megumi to have a proper (or, as proper as it can be) childhood.

(“You know, I don’t care if you bring any friends over. Just make sure no one ends up accidentally getting shot, okay, Megumi?”

Yeah, because that’s definitely gonna push him towards throwing as many parties as he wants.)

People in his position don’t have many friends. It’s hard to, he assumes, because of all the killings and betrayals and power plays.

(And, he’ll soon learn that it hurts a lot less to lose an enemy than it does a friend.)

“Hmm. Okay.”

But you don’t get up from your seat, and he doesn’t tell you to move.

The next day, you’re carrying two bento boxes. The lunches are prepared for you by world class chefs and everything is done in a rather cutesy manner to entice you into not wasting your food. The fruit is cut into pretty shapes, the food has picks with animals on them, and everything is colorful and to your own personal tastes.

You take a seat next to him once again. He looks up for a second, sees that it’s you, and returns back to his meal that looks pitiful in comparison. Leftover rice and some cold meat. You think it’s the same thing he had last time.

“For you.” You slide the second bento you had requested towards him before opening up your own.

“What’s this for?”

“For you to eat, silly.”

“...How much?”

“Huh? All of it, I guess? If you don’t like something, tell me, and I’ll request something different tomorrow.” You don’t quite understand what he’s asking you.

“No. How much does it cost? I'll bring you the money tomorrow.”

“Why would it cost you?” Now you’re really confused.

Didn’t anyone ever teach you that everything comes attached with a price? If it’s not money you want, it must be something else. At least, if Megumi’s judgments are right. (And they usually are.)

“Fushiguro, I brought you this because I want you to eat well and grow strong.”

He wonders what rice shaped like Hello Kitty has to do with his strength.

“Also, so the next time people give you or me trouble, you can fight them, okay?”

Oh. So it’s protection you want. He contemplates what he thinks your request is before popping a piece of food into his mouth. A meal made with care — he can taste the thought that’s been put into it. Shoving his old lunch to the side, he quickly starts eating at the one you brought him.

Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.

“Meguuuumi.” You whine out his name, messing up the navy sheets of his bed while he sits at his desk, trying to finish his application for university. “I’m bored.”

“Good. Go to your own house then, and leave me alone.”

“You’re so mean to me.” You sigh, turning your head so that half of your face is pressed against his pillow. The scent of his shampoo still sticks to the fabric, and you subconsciously inhale the scent some more. It’s familiar and reminds you of him, your favorite person in the world.

No one believes you when you tell them that Megumi is your best friend. No one wants to believe that it’s true. After all, the two of you look more like a shoujo manga trope than an actual pair of best friends. The cold, inexpressive dark haired male lead with a secretive past he doesn’t want anyone to know about and the bright, bubbly, ball of energy that is constantly clinging to his side. It’s like looking at night and day with you two.

“And yet, you’re still always here.”

You’re still by his side, even when the two of you reached middle school and high school together, and he spent a majority of his time starting (and finishing) fights.

(“Get off of him!” You screamed, yanking on the collar of one of the boys who happened to be trying to grab Megumi from behind. You don’t have the same amount of strength as them, but everyone at this point knows who you are and who exactly your father is. No matter what the origin of the fight is won’t matter; all that matters is that the precious daughter of one of Tokyo’s richest CEOs got caught in it, and that’s enough to get everyone involved into some deep shit.

Immediately, the boy scampers off, and the other boy Megumi was punching into the squeaky clean floors of the hallway begins to thrash around wildly, eyes wide at the sudden sight of you. Seeing you coming from behind Megumi is like watching the sun peek through a dozen storm clouds.

Megumi gives him one last punch, not nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Honestly, getting into fights with low level delinquents is beneath him. It’s not just his knuckles and clothes that are getting dirty; by feeding into the school’s image that he’s this young, violent yakuza heir, he’s dirtying the prestige Gojo claims is oh so important.

“Megumi.” He straightens up at the sound of your voice, which usually sounds so sweet, especially when it’s directed towards him. Instead, you have an uncharacteristic frown on your face and you sound… mad. “Let’s go.”

You’ve got a hand wrapped around his wrist, and people part when they spot the two of you making a hasty exit. The teachers aren’t bold enough to cause a scene with you, and the students know both you and Megumi are practically untouchable — one being the spoiled brat daughter of a rich and powerful businessman, the other, a ticking time bomb with ties to the yakuza.

You don’t stop walking until the two of you are in a secluded courtyard at the school. No one goes here, mainly because it’s in such an inconvenient location and there’s nothing but trees and weeds over growing it. The two of you found it within your first week of being here, and ever since then, it’s become your designated spot to avoid prying eyes.

“I thought you were over stupid fights. You told me yourself that they weren’t the type of people worth beating up.” You scold him, forcing him to take a seat on the bench that creaks under his weight. You make a noise as you inspect the drying blood on his knuckles.

If an outsider were to look at the scene before them, they would gape at the unbecoming sight of you on your knees, in between his legs, too close for a duo who claims to be “just good friends”. But there’s nothing inherently dirty in your thoughts. Instead, you’re staring thoughtfully at his hands, inspecting the minor damage done to them.

Megumi swallows hard as he looks down on you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this — you’re his best friend, his only friend. The only person who’s by his side. If you could read in his mind, there’s no doubt that you would be recoiling away from him in disgust…)

You’re still by his side, even when he told you the truth about himself after waiting years to see if you were truly his friend or not.

(“The rumors—” He starts to say, but you shush him, rolling over on your side to face him. The two of you are lying on the grass in your massive backyard, trying to spot a shooting star that’s supposed to be passing by at any second now.

“I don’t care about that.” You tell him. Middle school was a bitch to deal with, mainly because as everyone was in the process of growing up and “maturing”, so did the rumors they spread. Now, the two of you are halfway through your first week of high school. A new school, a couple of new classmates, and new rumors surrounding the odd pair.

“If I told you the rumors about me being someone you should avoid were true, would you be mad?” He’s lying on his back, still staring up at the night sky. He’s not turning to face you, almost as if he’s scared to look at you.

“Yes.” You answer without any hesitation. “At the person who’s spreading that around.” You clarify, poking him on his side to lighten the somber mood he’s setting. “You’re the only real friend I’ve had in forever, Megumi. I don’t think what anyone says about you would change that.”

“What if I did something bad?” Like kill a person. What then? What would you think of him if he told you the full truth: that Gojo told him that he can’t shield Megumi from the dirtier aspects of this type of life. That he’s spent hours after school, hours after hanging out with you and pretending to be a normal teenager, learning how to assemble, disassemble, and then reassemble a gun. That his target practice isn’t glass bottles lined up in a row or sheets printed out with human bodies. What happens if he told you that his target practice was low level scum from rival yakuza clans that Gojo couldn’t be bothered to kill himself?

“Mmm. How bad are we talking? Like, lied to me when you said my Christmas outfit looked good but half my ass was practically exposed bad or committing a felony bad?”

“What if I told you… that I really was a yakuza heir.”

The silence is palpable and especially soul crushing to Megumi as he waits for your reply.

“It wouldn’t matter to me, Megumi.” You say. You know that this isn’t just some type of hypothetical question he’s asking for fun. From his odd living situation to the intense nature of him in general to the fact that he knows practically everything about you, but you barely know the full extent of his childhood traumas despite growing up alongside him, you know deep in your heart that there has to be something going on with him. Something dark enough to harbor stories about him.

“Are you sure about that?”

You reach for his hand in the dark, finding it without really needing to look. He’s not one that’s prone to initiating physical contact, but you found out that he doesn’t really mind when you reach for him first.

“You can’t get rid of me, no matter how crazy or fucked up you think your life is.” You squeeze his hand, still staring at him.

You don’t notice the shooting star flying past the night sky, but Megumi is looking right at it. He knows what he’s wishing for.

For your words to be true.)

You’re still by his side, even when he brought you to his sister’s bedside. She’s sick, afflicted with something no one knows, not even the private doctors that Gojo’s spent millions on. She was still conscious, albeit confined to her bed when the two of you first met, but she’s been in a coma ever since the last year of middle school. You were by his side as he broke down about the news. It was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

So, no matter how much it may seem like he’s pushing you away, you don’t budge. For someone smaller than him and definitely weaker, you’re awfully resilient. And while people make the occasional joke, telling you to “blink twice if you need help”, you don’t pay any attention to them. If only they knew the truth: that you’ve got Megumi Fushiguro, heir to a massive yakuza clan, wrapped around your dainty finger.

He’s so whipped that he found himself asking Gojo for a rare favor.

(“College?” Gojo rubs the back of his neck, staring at Megumi. “I mean, I guess it’ll be good for you. Meet a wild party girl, take her to your dorm room, tame her—”

“An education is the whole point of attending, you know.” Megumi interrupts him before Gojo can jump into a story highlighting all of his sexual endeavors with college girls back in the day.

“Eh. I guess.” But then a grin lights up the feature of the man who [kind of/by definition] raised him. “But y’know what I know for a fact.” He wiggles his eyebrows, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tilts his head downwards. “You wanna follow [Name].”)

It doesn’t really matter if he’s not good enough to get into the university you’ve already received an early acceptance for. Because Gojo tries to make up for being an absent father figure, he fills in those empty spaces with cold, hard cash. All it takes is one nice donation, and Megumi’s wherever he wants to be.

Where he wants to be, he realizes, is to be by your side. Wherever you go, he’ll gladly follow. Funnily enough, despite the two vastly different backgrounds the both of you come from, you both have similar means of getting what you want.

Your father had already looked over the list of universities you had in mind, and all you could do was excitedly squeal and start rambling the moment the acceptance letters came in the mail. Despite the fact that your father’s physically absent from your life most of the time, he still tries to show he cares in the things he does for you. If paying off over half a dozen major universities in order to make you happy is something he has to do, he’ll do it without batting an eye.

It’s the same thing on Megumi’s end. Granted, Gojo’s means are more along the lines of using money as a lubricant and then death as an inevitable. Money talks, a gunshot to the head silences. Nobody can accuse anyone of taking bribes if said accused person is in a grave six feet under.

Sometimes, Megumi wonders how you’re just so oblivious to the fortunate circumstances in your life. You chalk up a lot of your father’s wishes as just “good luck”. In school, you’re placed on a pedestal, revered as some goddess-like, otherworldly being. People are practically tripping over themselves, running towards you for a crumb of your attention. Anyone sane would gladly wield this power and use it for all its worth. Not you, though. Not you, who’s kind and considerate and completely clean from the corruptness that plagues everyone else.

Megumi knows good and well that he’s not a hero — couldn’t be farther from it, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t feel a moral obligation to go out and rid the world of all evil. (It’d be hypocritical, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s most likely belonging under the evil category himself.) From a young age, he’s already known and come to terms with his fate. He’s going to train and learn from the best, and eventually, he will succeed as head of the clan. That is his purpose. That right there is the reason why he’s still alive today. That is why he can find himself sitting at his desk, submitting an application that’s already guaranteed to be followed up with an acceptance letter, ready to pretend for four more years that he’s normal.

“D’you think college will be fun?” You ask him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

“No.”

You laugh at that. You like Megumi for a lot of reasons, and his honesty is one of them. Despite the fact that he likes to keep most of the darker details of his life to himself, you know that he would never lie to you. In a world full of people who are constantly lying, it gets tiring trying to figure out who’s real and who’s fake. It doesn’t help that you want to believe in everyone either. If you didn’t have Megumi loyally staying by your side all this time, you doubt you would have made it this far in your life without anyone taking advantage of you and your kindness.

“My dad said I can finally get a boyfriend when I go to college.” You say this fact so casually that Megumi almost — almost — gets fooled into believing that this is not a cause for concern. Almost.

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. He knows that it’s inevitable; that one day, you’ll find a guy you like and want to get closer to him. He knows that you’re not always going to be by his side, and he knows that it’s going to happen because he’ll have to push you away eventually. The older he gets, the deeper he’s burying himself into his grave. He doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.

It’s not like boys have never tried approaching you before. People have spent years thinking that you and Megumi were a couple, and then after finding out from you that the two of you are nothing more than “best friends”, boys were still hesitant to talk to you. The glare Megumi would give them from behind your shoulder acted as a strong enough deterrent.

“I know. Now the only problem is finding a guy who’ll actually wanna date me.”

“They all will.” The words leave his mouth faster than he can even think about them. He’s not wrong, though. Every time the two of you are out in public together, he sees people shooting quick glances at you, at your ass, at your bright smile. The looks they give are predatory, dangerous, even. If it’s not your looks, it’s your shining personality that draws them all in. And if that’s not good enough, there’s always the enormous wealth attached to your last name. That’s the key to getting them to stay.

“You can be so sweet sometimes, you know that?” You giggle, glad that he’s still typing away on his laptop. If he were to look at you right now, he would see that you’re reacting way too positively to such a lackluster compliment. It’s not like he listed reasons on why anyone would ever want to date you, so he probably could just be complimenting you to make you happy.

(That’s just the excuse you’re going with. You know your best friend — that means you know that he would never say something he doesn’t truly think or believe.)

There’s a secret you’ve been keeping from him. A secret so big that you think you might’ve been keeping it from yourself, too. Something so big that your body simply can’t contain it any longer.

You like Megumi.

Of course you do. You keep telling the whole world what great friends the two of you are. You talk to him about your dad all the time (which must mean he’s important, because you rarely get to speak to your dad, so you have to choose your topics of conversation wiseley). You trust him more than you trust yourself. Ever since middle school, you’ve been telling yourself that you liking Megumi isn’t anything to be ashamed or confused about. You like him because he’s your friend, and you’re supposed to like your friends.

And then you came to terms with the fact that you like Megumi beyond the borders of friendship.

It starts with you seeing him the way other girls must see him. You’re not blind, you know. It’s obvious that Megumi is far from ugly. If he wasn’t so intimidating, you’re sure he would have had his fair share of confessions, too. Megumi’s pretty, although calling him a pretty boy wouldn’t do his character justice. He’s got lashes people pay extensions for theirs to look like, and the prettiest dark blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and his hair, which he doesn’t put forth any type of effort in, always looks good whereas the same hairstyle would look messy on anyone else.

It’s not just his looks, though. Even if you look like the type of person who would judge others based on such shallow standards, you didn’t approach Megumi simply because he’s attractive. He’s… interesting. He’s got this reputation for being a delinquent, and maybe all the fights on his school record prove it, but he’s surprisingly respectful. He’s the type of guy who gets up from his seat to let an eldery woman have it. He loves animals. He’s honest and sweet despite his seemingly stoic nature, and he’s so oblivious to just how good he is.

Maybe it’s because he’s so blinded by the light that is you. You, with your cutesy bento boxes that used to be made by your team of personal chefs but are now made with your own manicured hands. You, with that bright smile of yours that he wants to always see because god — he thinks he would be willing to destroy the whole world if something were to ever make you so upset. You’re kind and beautiful and everything people write love songs about. You’re so good, and he’s nothing like you.

He’s nothing like you, because he highly doubts that you spend your time fantasizing about him like he does with you. It’s wrong, he thinks. And dirty, and disgusting, and vile. You’d hate him, he’s sure of it, if you knew what he thinks about late at night. That he sits on his bed with his cock pulled out from his shorts, leaking with precum as he strokes himself to the thought of you. Do you not see him as any other guy? Despite your lack of experience, surely you know just how dirty boys’ minds can be? You’ve got to be conscious of the fact that he’s any other guy, right? So, why — why — do you always roll around in his sheets, letting your sweet perfume stick to his sheets. Your tiny tops and skirts are always clinging tight to your body, and you never feel the need to readjust your clothing when it rides up. Do you not see him trying his hardest to look you in the eyes when the two of you are talking, despite the tantalizing sight of your skirt bunching up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs?

Little does Megumi know (and if you have your way, he’ll never find out), you spend nights in your room, whining and trying to stuff your cunt with the same fingers that painstakingly made him his lunch. He’s your best friend since childhood. He looks at you like you’re an angel, and you don’t want to destroy that image by revealing just how dirty you really are. How every time he gets so close to you, you subconsciously bring your thighs together, trying to rub them together in a poor attempt to relieve some tension. He’d be disgusted with you, you’re sure of it. Maybe even betrayed.

Besides, it would never work out. Megumi doesn’t see you the way you see him. He might look at you with a soft look you’ve never seen him give anyone else, but that’s because you’re his only friend. It’s not like he’s harboring any hidden feelings for you, and just because you’re so convinced that there’s no one better than Megumi around, it doesn’t exactly mean that you won’t feel this way about anyone else.

Megumi’s got a rather monotone cadence with his voice, so you’re not too surprised by his seemingly unethusiatic response to you saying you’re now allowed to date. Still — there’s a slight pang of disappointment when you realize that he doesn’t sound jealous at the prospect of you dating someone else.

You decide right then and there that the healthiest thing to do now is to just bury your feelings for him deep inside your heart, to tightly pack in all those pesky feelings and store them away so you can make room to allow others to fill in his space.

gumi <3: where are you? gumi <3: i’m feeling tired and i have an assignment due tomorrow. i’m going home. gumi <3: you know i wouldn’t leave without you. cmon [name]. let’s leave now

Megumi frowns at his phone. He can clearly see that all his messages are being delivered, not to mention that he’s already called you twice and has been sent to voicemail twice. He can be patient when he wants to be, but right now, he’s getting a little pissed.

You know that he doesn’t like parties, and you know that he doesn’t hang out with the same people you do. He also knows that you don’t even really like most of the people you surround yourself with, so whyyou suddenly decided to do a 180 and reestablish your throne as the head of the social pyramid, he doesn’t know.

Lately, things between the two of you have been a little… weird. Sometimes he catches you staring at him with a sad smile on your face; one that you immediately replace with your usual one when you realize he’s looking right at you. Despite him asking you if everything’s okay, you vehemently deny that there’s anything wrong, and you’re quick to change the subject.

He thinks he’s losing his best friend, his only friend. And maybe it only hurts because he’s grown used to your presence in his life. Maybe it hurts because you’re his friend. But he knows the truth. It hurts because he’s losing you.

Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally somehow reveal the extent of his feelings for you? Did you suddenly decide that maybe associating with someone like him isn’t something you’re meant for? Do you…

Do you hate him now?

It doesn’t matter. Maybe it does, but not right now. Right now, he’s more focused on getting the hell out of this stuffy ass living room, filled to the brim with drunken young adults and people he couldn’t care less about. The only person that matters right now is you, and he’s on a mission to find your location.

He’s got this ominous feeling in his gut, like something bad is about to happen. He’s Megumi Fushiguro, for fuck’s sake, so bad things have a habit of following him wherever he goes. But still, he’s made a personal promise to himself that no matter how bad things get, you’ll never get caught in the crossfire. He’s willing to die to keep that vow.

If you don’t reply to him, you most likely have a good reason. He doesn’t want to be clingy, is pretty damn certain he doesn’t even have a right to be, but he’s still worried about you. He’s pushing past the wall of sweaty bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of your hair color, the waft of your perfume, the familiarity of your laugh, but he can’t catch a single crumb of you anywhere.

You’re nowhere in sight, and he’s immediately filled with dread.

He yanks a guy who’s coming from upstairs.

“Ow, man, what the fuc—”

“Is anyone else up there?” Most of the time, the parties are restricted to just the first floor, with the unspoken rule being that only the upstairs should be used for people trying to fuck or to use the bathroom (or, people trying to use the bathroom to fuck). You’re not anywhere downstairs, and if you were simply using the restroom, you would have been back down here by now.

“Shit, I don’t fucking know.” The guy squints at Megumi, as if trying to see if he knows him or not. With the way his expression pales, Megumi comes to the conclusion that the guy might not really know him, but he knows ofhim. Gojo says that with the right reputation, the two concepts are practically synonymous. “But I heard a guy ‘n a girl, I think, walk past the bathroom. I don’t know who, though!”

Megumi lets go of the boy’s shirt, and he’s quick to run off before Megumi can give him any more wrinkles in his shirt — or do something much worse.

He’s thinking. Odds are, it’s probably not even you. With so many people roaming around this house, it’s likely that he just missed your presence. Your phone could have died, so that explains why he can’t reach you.

He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.

It’s fine. He tells himself. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nobody would dare to touch a single hair on your head unless they want to suffer directly at the hands of Megumi. People around campus call him your guard dog, and it’s not necessarily a nickname he hates.

The atmosphere upstairs is vastly different from the one downstairs. There are no lights turned on, and all the doors to the rooms are closed. He hears a flush coming from one end, and out walks a tipsy girl who’s staggering a bit. There are only so many doors to choose from, and he doesn’t really want to accidentally walk in on two people trying to have sex, but the need to confirm your safety outweighs any possible embarrassment he may suffer from, so he continues on his mission.

The first two rooms are revealed to be empty, leaving just one more. Megumi takes a deep breath before trying to turn the handle.

It’s locked.

His gut is telling him something isn’t right, but he’s forcing himself to chalk it all up to paranoia. He curses under his breath, wondering why he even let you out of his sights for a single second.

Because he didn’t want to seem clingy. Because he didn’t want you to have any more reasons to keep on pushing him away.

He decides to call you one more time, and as he’s listening to the dial tone, he hears a faint sound coming from the other side of the locked door.

It’s a phone ringing.

He presses his ear against the door, trying to make out any more sounds he possibly can. Is it still a coincidence when the phone stops ringing right as Megumi is greeted with your voicemail message of “sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now, but you probably should’ve just texted me!”

Without the annoying dial tone distracting him, Megumi can listen a little more clearly to what’s going on. There’s… there’s someone crying.

The voices are muffled, but he can make out bits and pieces of what’s being said.

“—fuck up… crying like a damn bitch… want this.”

He’s heard enough before he’s banging his shoulder against the door.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” He’s screaming, hitting it again. There’s a chance, the voice of reason inside of him is saying, that it’s not you that’s crying behind that door. Even if it wasn’t, Megumi still wouldn’t have stood by idly. But instinct is telling him that it is you, and that’s enough cause for him to bang his shoulder against the door once again. He hears a scream, and a male voice cursing.

The force of his body banding against it is enough to have the door really test the strength of its lock. Megumi’s never been the bulkiest person in the world, but he’s still got some defined muscle to him. The door is creaking, almost bending to his will, but he fumbles in the dark for the gun safely tucked away by his side.

It’s a gift from Gojo. To speed up the process when something needs to be done quick is what Gojo said it was for. He’s never used it in such close proximity to you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

No silencer. He forgot the fucking silencer. With the deep bass rumbling from the speakers, he doubts anyone would be able to hear the gun go off anyway. He aims for the handle, pulling back the safety, and fires once, then twice. With a foot aimed at the door, he kicks at it, pleased to see the way the abused door finally bends to his will.

The open door reveals a scene that makes Megumi see red: you, with tear stained cheeks and your clothes bunched up and strewn across the floor with a guy Megumi vaguely recognizes as someone sharing the same Econ class as the two of you — Mahito.

“You fucking bastard.” Megumi practically lunges forward, tossing his gun to the side. He doesn’t see reason, is numb to common sense at this moment. All he feels is the need to hurt this fucker. To make him bleed, to have him on the brink of death, to see the light of life leave his dark eyes.

Mahito is fast, but even he couldn’t imagine the speed that Megumi would possess when pushed to the edge. This is different from the fights you’ve witnessed during school. This is something entirelydifferent.

The first punch has Mahito wincing in pain. The second, third, and fourth ones are thrown back to back, and there’s no time given to recover, no chance to gain the upper hand. He’s falling down, and Megumi’s on top of him, drawing back his fist only to slam it against him again and againand again.

Megumi knows he’s got something fucked up inside of his head — what other explanation is there to reason with why he finds this bloody violence so satisfying? His knuckles are bloody, and he can’t tell where Mahito’s blood starts and where his own ends. There’s a wild grin on his face, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the shadows, but the feral expression on Megumi’s face transforms him from your loyal best friend to something monstrous.

“‘Gumi, st-stop.” The words stumble out of your mouth as hiccups, but you don’t miss the way Megumi’s raised arm freezes in its higher position before he slowly brings it back down to his side. He’s breathing deeply, and all is silent in the room.

As if the sound of your cries is enough to snap him out of his daze, it’s almost scary how fast his mood shifts. Just a second ago, he was hellbent on beating Mahito to a bloody pulp, and now the darkness drowning those blue eyes of his is practically gone. He makes his way to the bed, each step hurried but still hesitant. Do you even want to be near him right now?

You answer his question with some more small sobs. “‘Gumi, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay, [Name].” He’s picking up your clothes from the floor, ready to help you get dressed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Megumi.” His name seems to be the only thing you’re capable of saying right now. After he helps you get dressed, he’s thrown off guard when you cling to him, with your arms wrapped around his neck and your wet cheeks pressed against his shoulder.

The moment the two of you are exiting the room, both of you far too wrapped up with the other to pay him any mind, Mahito lets out a laugh before groaning at the pain Megumi inflicted.

The two of you don’t know what you just started, but no worries — Mahito has the means of ending it.

It’s only a matter of time.

You’re too good to be true.

You won’t listen to him when he tells you this (you never do), but he swears you’re a fucking angel or something otherwordly. There’s no other possible explanation for just how breathtakingly beautiful you are, or how you’re the only thing consuming his every thought. Despite the fact that all the blood on his hands has reached an amount that he’s sure he’ll never truly be able to wash it all off, you don’t shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, it seems like you’re keening for it.

“‘Gumi.” You mewl out, sticking out your tongue to lap at the precum on Megumi’s thumb.

You’re well aware of just how dangerous your boyfriend (the title makes you giddy every time you refer to him as that) is, but you know him. You know that the hands of a killer are the hands of your lover, and most of the time, you have a hard time believing the awful things he’s had to do with them. Because right now, those hands that are meant to be weapons are handling you with care, touching you so gently, you would have thought you were made of glass and ready to shatter.

“Look at you, all spread out for me. What happened to my precious, shy little girl, huh?” He removes the hand that was cradling your face back to his cock, stroking his length, the saliva from your tongue acting as a minor lubricant. The first time he fucked you was the first time you’ve ever had sex with anyone ever, and it had been the start of an addiction. You love Megumi. You love everything about him, from his character to his tenacity, all the way down to his cock, with its red tip that’s sticky with pre and leaking out more as he stares down at the obscene position you’re in.

Your face feels warm as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of love and lust that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to being on the receiving end of.

“Need you, need you so bad, please, ‘Gumi—” You’re staring up at him, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Fuck.” Just the sight of you beneath him, completely bending to his will, whining out for him to pretty please fuck you has him ready to cum right on the fucking spot. He’s pressing the tip in, his breathing faltering just the slightest as the warmth you provide envelopes the most sensitive part of him, nearly causing him to lose all self control right then and there.

You let out a cry as he pushes himself deeper in you, making himself at home in your gummy walls, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding onto the headboard.

“You feel so good for me, baby, shit.” He hisses, waiting for you to adjust, impatient but willing to bear it if it means it’ll feel better for you in the long run. After all, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t endure, just to ensure your happiness.

“Mm — ah — please.” There are still tears welling up in your eyes — precious girl, he hasn’t even began to properly fuck you, and you’re already tearing up? The sight of you completely and willingly at his mercy is enough to get him to start rutting his hips against yours, the satisfying sound of skin slapping against skin resounding and bouncing against the walls of his bedroom that is starting to feel more like the both of yours.

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He groans, his pace quickening, the thrusts getting sharper and rougher with every roll of his hips. You’re powerless against his strength, and this type of easy submission feels so natural, feels so good, when it’s him that’s taking advantage of it. “You’ve got the sweetest pussy, y’know that? I could fuck you forever.”

His praise goes through one ear and out the other with you, but your heart swells up to twice its size. Even if you can’t focus on the words all too clearly, you’re still aware that Megumi’s probably praising you. You can come to this conclusion because he’s always praising you. He’s always so sweet, so gentle, so loving — when it comes to you, that is.

“Hng — daddy!” You can’t help but let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that makes you buck your hips up.

There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing. Clenching around his cock like that, making those cute little noises that he can’t help but want to hear all the time, and then calling him that.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy.”

Forget igniting something within him; you whining for him, calling him something that’s the root cause of all his childhood traumas… That’s like dousing him with gasoline and tossing a lighter at him. He’s going to burn through all his energy, channel all this dark, feral energy, and use you as the one unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.

He fucks into you so deeply that if your eyes weren’t shut tight, there’s no doubt that you wouldn’t see the unmistakable shape of his cock outlined against your tummy. The headboard is banging against the wall, and the squelching sounds of him roughly thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt is so lewd and so dirty that if you had any room to harbor a single ounce of shame, you would be downright embarrassed.

“How about you make me a daddy, huh? How about I fuck a baby in you?” He won’t lie and say it’s not something that’s never crossed his mind. The thought of your stomach round with a life the two of you created is enough to get him to continue with this near-brutal pace he’s set forth. “Doesn’t it sound nice, baby? My baby giving me a baby, what—” He grits his teeth as you tighten up. “—a fucking dream.”

“Baby. Wanna have your babies.” You cry out, tears spilling out and wetting your cheeks as your arms find their way to his neck and broad shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. The heat building up from within you feels like you’re about to fucking explode. “‘Gumi, I love you, Iloveyoupleasegimmeababy—'' Your words are practically unintelligible as you slur them out, the words sticking together as you cum all over his cock, all that pleasure that has been building up now physically tangible, if the white ring encasing his cock every time he pulls out is evidence.

“Fuck! You feel so fucking good. Always so fuckin’ tight.” He’s reaching his own end, and you’re just lying there, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm but unable to as your too sensitive walls clench around the constant intrusion of his cock. Spurred by your little love confession and his mind imagining his daydreams coming true — you, as his cute little housewife, taking care of the kids the two of you made together — he finally shoves himself as deep as he physically can, making sure that as he cums, nothing will spill out.

“‘Gumi.” You whisper, your head resting against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to start a family?”

He’s silent for a minute.

“I wouldn’t mind starting a family with you.” And he means it. He knows this life isn’t one meant for children — look at how he turned out, for god’s sake — but he thinks that for you, he can do anything. Even make a family work out. As long as it’s what you want, he doesn’t mind how hard it may be.

You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. “Good.” You mumble. “I wanna start a family with you, too.”

Megumi feels… at peace. Like he’s got the whole entire world in the palm of his hands. He wraps his arms around you, and realizes that no — right now, he’s got his world right in his arms.

Mahito likes to play with his food before he devours them whole.

Humans are just so… vulnerable. Even the coldest people have a heart; it’s only a matter of whether or not they find someone warm enough to defrost it. Megumi Fushiguro, for example, likes to walk around this world, acting indifferent and claiming to follow his own moral conduct, only to give himself the biggest weakness he could possibly harbor: you.

He still remembers that party. He still remembers the way you were dressed like a little slut, completely oblivious (or maybe you were just acting coy) to the wolfish stares all the guys were giving you. He had the same class as you. Seen the way you clung to Gojo’s charity case, as if the ground would swallow Megumi whole if you let go of him. You’re cute, and you scream naive virgin, and that’s precisely why Mahito wanted to take you to that bedroom and have his way with you.

And then, your infamous little guard dog bared his teeth and pummeled him into the hardwood of a stranger’s bedroom floor.

Grudges are cancerous. If you don’t deal with it right away, it develops into something worse. It takes over all your internal organs, ruining you ‘til the only thing you can focus on is getting revenge. And the longer you wait, the more vengeful you get. It doesn’t become a matter of ruined pride or reestablishing honor — it becomes about inflicting the most pain one possibly can. It becomes about suffering — about transferring your pain, your anguish, onto someone else.

Mahito isn’t the type to hold grudges, but for Megumi, he’ll make a special exception. He wants to see just how well trained the boy is; after all, he’s been taken under the wing and supervision of Satoru Gojo, the myth himself. Surely, his student must be nearly as skilled, right?

It’s been a long game of watching and waiting on Mahito’s end. A lot of lurking in the shadows and gathering intel. It’s a lot more boring than he anticipated, but today’s the day where all his hard work finally comes to fruition. Megumi Fushiguro is going to regret ever interfering with him that one fateful night. The burning humiliation he’s felt has long since fizzled out, but since he’s already been set on the path of orchestrating Megumi’s destruction, he figures it only makes sense to see it through. You only can let go of a grudge after you get your proper revenge.

He’s been leaving Megumi all sort of taunting, teasing threats any chance he gets. Mahito’s got nothing but disgraced yakuza members on his side; those who have committed acts vile enough to get them kicked out of what is essentially a group of criminals. He knows how to be twisted — hell, twisted might be the only thing he knows how to be.

Killing girls that resemble you and sending him the photos. Taking videos of you when you’re out in public alone. Leaving voicemails for Megumi, ones that leave him pale faced and unable to breathe as he listens to how Mahito wants to tortue you.

Megumi’s been on edge for the past few months, unable to explain to you why. It’s why you don’t understand why Megumi won’t let you go back to your car, even though you left your phone in there.

“I’ll go. Or, we can go together.”

“You have to wait for our coffee! And besides, I don’t even know where I left my phone. It might not even be in the car, but you’ll just waste your time searching for it if it’s not there.”

“So then why do you have to go look for it?”

“Because it’s my phone? Also, I reeeeeallly don’t wanna have to wait for our coffee, so I figured looking for my phone in the car would kill some time.” You give him that sweet smile of yours that he loves so much before waving him goodbye. “I’ll be back by the time our order is ready, pinky promise!”

At the end of the day, it’s all luck. Mahito realizes this as you happily skip out of the crowded cafe, headed towards your car to search for your phone. He doesn’t know why you’re returning back to your car, doesn’t even really care. All he knows and all he cares about is that you’re headed there alone. And while you’ve been alone plenty of times, he’s never had an opportunity quite like this one. A chance to finally detonate the bomb that’s been lying dormant underneath your car, ready to be activated at the press of a button. He could’ve killed you plenty of times already, but it’s not enough to merely murder you. He wants to make it a spectacle, sure, but he also only cares about one audience member watching: Megumi.

From where he’s hiding, blending in with the rest of the customers from the bakery across the street, he’s got a decent enough view of Megumi, who’s sitting by the glass windows, watching you with furrowed brows as you unlock the car door.

Mahito can’t help the cruel smile that spreads across his face as pushes the remote connected to the bomb.

Nobody expects to hear the loud, resounding boom of something exploding. The surrounding cars parked next to yours have their alarms going off like crazy; it’s nothing but high pitched, blaring noises blending together to create a disruptive harmony. People are screaming, someone is on the line with emergency services, and—

—your precious car is set aflame, reduced to a burning pile of scrap metal no salvage yard will take.

In this moment, Megumi Fushiguro’s world crumbles to ashes.

#megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #angst #fluff #one shot #drabble #smut #megumi smut #jjk smut #jjk imagines #yakuza au #THIS IS SO OLD IM CRYING #like rereading it... omg what was i ON???

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