#ITS A BUSINESS I WILL BE MAKING MONEY I ALREADY HAVE THREE JOBS

[asexualbookbird]

i WAS going to make my BG3 character tonight but instead I spent two hours inputting allt he embroidery thread colors and numbers into a spreadsheet to track whether or not I own them

next step is to figure out how to color drop the actual color into the spreadhseet

[writerjayne]

This is a little sterek college AU (are they human are they werewolves who knows) one shot that I wrote on my phone with no beta or editing So apologies for the errors! The premise is a little vauge on purpose in case I want to expand this into a full story later but basically its an "Everyone grew up together" kind of vibe. Made Derek only 3 years older to make him still being in college realistic. Enjoy!

The car slowing to a stop woke Stiles. Blinking around and not fully conscious he asked confused:

"Are we there already?"

Derek glanced over from the driver's seat and chuckled. 

"No we still have like three hours. It's just a traffic jam." 

"Oh," stiles sat up a little straighter and looked around, clearly still half asleep. "We'll still get there early right?" 

"Yeah, gps says we'll arrive at 1, so plenty of time for move in," Derek assured as the traffic began inching forward. 

"Good, I need to talk to the housing department," Stiles pulled out his phone, fingers moving rapidly as he typed. 

Derek smiled indulgently. It was Stiles freshman year of college and Derek had never seen him so excited. 

"To get your key?" Derek prompted when Stiles didn't elaborate. 

"No, I need to see if they have any empty rooms," Stiles tone was almost vague, his attention on his phone. "Or any double rooms with only one occupant. Here look there's an alternative route-" 

"I'm sorry what?" Derek cut Stiles off. "You have to ask about a room? Stiles it's move in day! The day you move in!" 

"Yeah so I have to get a room to move into," Stiles rolled his eyes. "So the earlier the better! Here, take the next exit so we can get around-" 

"Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski!!" Derek didn't roar, they were in a closed car but it was a close thing. 

"Hey hey hey, why are you middle naming me?" Stiles demanded. "Forget that, why are you first naming me?!"

"Because your father isn't here to do it!" Derek growled. "You don't have a place to live?"

"Well I did! But then Scott decided to room with Allison instead and I told him not to worry about it but when I called the place we were going to rent from they said I couldn't rent a two bedroom as one person so yes I'm going to talk to housing when we get there!" Stiles waved his hands around as he spoke, getting more agitated. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, stiles, ask the adults in your life for help?" Derek pointed out.

"Dad has enough on his plate and I had already told him scott and I were set," Stiles sounded embarrassed. 

"Your father is not the only adult in your life," Derek reminded, though not harshly. "What about my parents, hell Laura would have been happy to help or I don't know me??"

"Your parents were busy getting cora all set up," Stiles pointed out. "And I thought about calling Laura but her semester just started too..."

"And me?" Derek prompted. "I'm not exactly new at this!" 

"Honestly I forget you're an adult too," Stiles admitted sheepishly. 

"Stiles!" Derek groaned almost closing his eyes but the traffic began moving again and he focused back on the road. 

"I know I know!! That's why I want to get there early, so I can get this sorted out with the housing department!" Stiles desperately explained again before holding out his phone again. "So can we take the alternate route?" 

"What if you moved in with me?" 

Stiles jaw dropped and he half lowered the phone. Derek wasn't looking at him, the older man's eyes on the road but he was growing in thought. 

"What?"

"Move in with me," Derek repeated. "It's small but you wouldn't have to worry about rent, you could save the money you make at your job. It's technically off campus but it's not far to walk. There's also a bus stop out front-" 

"But you hate having roommates!" Stiles interrupted. "And isn't it a one bedroom?" 

"Yeah it's a little place but we can make it work. And you're not a stranger so I think I'll be fine," Derek smiled slightly. "What do you say?" 

"Okay," Stiles was almost breathless. "If you're really sure..."

"I'm sure Stiles. Now we've still got like two and a half hours to go so go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there." 

"Okay," Stiles said again, smiling this time. "Thanks Der." 

"You're welcome," Derek responded with a smile. 

*****

"I'm sorry I have so many books," stiles frowned apologetic as they hauled the last two boxes up the stairs to the apartment. 

"It's fine, Stiles, I promise," Derek said for what felt like the hundredth time. 

They dropped the boxes by the half full bookshelves in the small living room before pausing to take a break. 

Heading to the kitchen Derek pulled a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, silently greatful he had come the week before to clean and stock the apartment. It hadn't been used in months and had been dusty. Derek had wanted move in day to have as minimal work as possible so he had come to prepare. 

"Are you sure about me not paying rent?" Stiles worried voice pulled Derek from his thoughts. 

"I told you it's fine. I don't pay rent, why would I make you pay rent?" Derek held out a water bottle to Stiles. "My parents own the building, specifically so family can use it without having to worry about paying for accommodations. There's always a few units empty. This one has been mine since I started school." 

"If you're sure," Stiles relented. "Do we need any groceries? I can make a run!" 

"Sure," Derek started but he was interrupted by a knock on the door and it swinging open. 

"Hey nerd, how's unpacking going?" 

Both men turned to see Erica kicking off her shoes by the door. 

"Hey Erica!" Stiles greeted brightly. "It's going pretty good! We got the sleeping arrangements sorted first then hauled everything in!" 

Erica froze for half a second at the sight of stiles before smiling. 

"What are you doing here?" She asked

"Oh I'm living here," stiles glanced between his two friends "did Derek not tell you?" 

"He did not," Erica gave Derek a pointed look and the older man rolled his eyes. 

"Cut me some slack, I didn't even know until like 3 hours ago!" Derek gave Stiles a face. "Someone thought they could show up on move in day and just find a place to stay!"

"Oh?" Erica grinned and Stiles blushed. 

"I'm going to go get some groceries now," he muttered avoiding Erica's eye and she laughed. 

"Whatever Batman," Erica plopped on the couch, pulling out her phone. "Bring me back some chocolate?" 

"Sure," Stiles agreed easily. "I won't be long!" 

"Ok be safe and call me if you get lost!" Derek said sternly. 

"This isn't the preserve Derek, GPS actually works here so I think I'll be fine!" With that stiles left, waving as he pulled the door closed. 

As soon as she hears the door latch Erica jumped up rouding on Derek. 

"This is a terrible idea!!" She exclaimed. "Why would you even suggest it?" 

"If you're gonna lecture at least help me unpack his books," Derek answered, dodging the question. 

"Seriously Derek, what were you thinking?" Erica grabbed a box and began opening it. 

"Well I wasn't gonna let him be homeless!" Derek hissed. "He's my best friend-"

"Who you've been in love with since you were what 8?" Erica crossed her arms. 

"If we're getting technical since I was 3," Derek admitted. 

Erica did the quick mental math before asking:

"God Derek, was he even born??" 

"Um not yet." 

"Derek!" Erica groaned. "What are you going to do if he brings someone home? You'll be in jail for murder!" 

"I'm not that jealous!" Derek said defensively.

"No but you are that protective!" Erica countered. 

"It won't be a problem anyway, Stiles isn't going to bring anyone home," Derek said dismissively. 

"Are we talking about the same stiles?" Erica raised an eyebrow. "Stiles stilinski? The boy who dated Lydia Martin! Stiles stilinski who dated your sister and your cousin not to mention half the lacrosse team! Say what you want but that boy can pull!" 

"Okay so we cross that bridge when we get there!" Derek continued putting books on the shelves, avoiding Erica's eye for a moment. 

"Yeah okay," Erica crossed her arms. "We'll see how that goes." 

"You want a tour or what?" Derek huffed, changing the subject. 

"Obviously," Erica grinned. "Why else do you think I came over?" 

Derek refrained from rolling his eyes and gestured for the young woman to follow him. He gave a quick tour of the living room and kitchen before opening the door to the bedroom. 

"There's only one bed?!" Erica rounded on Derek, her disbelief written across her face. 

"It's a king, we can share," Derek shrugged. "We have before."

"This is going to end so badly. This is a disaster," Erica stood dumbfounded. "Seriously what were you thinking?" 

*****

"I was thinking 'hey one less thing to stress over' Scott I wasn't thinking about how in each other's space it would be!" Stiles nearly threw his hands up in exasperation. "I didn't exactly have another option!" 

"You should have told me! Allison and I could have got a bigger place or you an I could have done this first semester together and she and I could have moved in together next semester!" Scott's worried voice came over the phone and stiles could almost see Scott nervously pacing. 

"It's Derek Scott, it'll be fine!" Stiles tried to sound confident. 

"Who you've been in love with since you were old enough to walk!" Scott pointed out.

Stiles groaned. 

"I know, I know. But honestly, how bad can this be?" 

[morggo]

Hi. I set up a GFM to help with urgent needs. If you enjoy my work, consider donating. If you can't donate, please share.

I really appreciate any support.

Details of the GFM are under the cut.

Hi there, my name is Morgan, otherwise known as Mx Morgan professionally. I am an artist, freelancing illustrator, retail and wholesale clerk living and working in the PNW. I'm here to ask for assistance with getting rent paid for me, my partner, and cat, and assistance to pay for my medication.

This year has been difficult, especially the summer. My partner was laid off her job because the business she worked at was not making much money. She was on unemployment from February to June and has been unable to work due to complications from mental illness and medication she was taking at the time. Since then, I've been helping her with day-to-day needs and picking up 100% of our expenses (previously we paid 50/50 on rent, bills, etc.). Currently, I am working three jobs - my retail job, my freelancing job, and a voluntary job at a game studio. My retail job has been having difficulty making expenses to stay open, and my hours are now 10 hrs/week. A lot of my freelancing work has been significantly reduced; I currently have a few open jobs, and the money made from those has gone directly to bills and rent. Therefore, I have been unable to set aside a percentage for quarterly taxes, which leads to penalties and fees (I already owe the IRS about $12k, and I am finding what options may be available to me). The voluntary game studio position is just that - it's a voluntary position that I give the least amount of my time to, and I continue to do so because it genuinely brings me some joy and things are moving forward despite personal setbacks.

I am currently looking for another job and part of a temp agency's hiring pool; however, I cannot move forward to hiring because my social security card went missing, and the card is required for work. I have a replacement on its way, but it will take about another week from this date.

Now, onto rent. My landlord was generous in allowing us to pay the outstanding amount of rent over the month of September. My rent for September was $1951.30, and mostly from freelancing, I have been able to bring that amount down. The amount left to owe is $1096.30. However, there's the issue of October's rent being due, and the way things are going, I will not be able to pay for that either, making the total amount due $2656.30. Our landlord utilizes Ratio Utility Billing System with little to no transparency of how the amount is divided among tenants, so my utilities can wildly fluctuate, often making my rent amount unpredictable. Some tenants have paid $60 for electricity while others have to pay $300, for example. Yes, I have brought up concerns. No, I have not received any solutions.

Breakdown of payments made for the month of September.

Amount paid so far.

Total amount remaining for September, along with rent that is due October 1st.

There is also the issue of health insurance - I have lost my health insurance due to not receiving letters (mail was stolen) asking for my income, so my coverage was terminated. I have reapplied and was approved, but my insurance is not available until October 1st. I have, after GoodRX coupons, about $82 worth of medication I need. Currently, I am out of amlodipine, which manages my high blood pressure. I am out of my anxiety medication and just winging it at this point.

Breakdown of medication, with prescriptions obscured for privacy.

All that said, the amount I am asking from GoFundMe is assistance for 1.) the past due rent 2.) medication and 3.) assistance with October's rent, if able. At minimum, I would like to get the past due rent paid off and be able to get 2 medications I am low on, if I cannot get the full amount for all my medication. At best, I would like to meet the goal and have everything caught up. I have a couple of jobs lined up, but I am likely not seeing any payment until mid-October, and by that time it may be too late to pay for any rent.

Any excess of donations will go toward other aid for friends and colleagues that have been impacted by this year. The sad fact is, I'm not the only career artist who has been affected by loss of work and life complicating things further.

Other than GoFundMe, if you would like to help me and get a little something out of it, I have a ko-fi shop with originals and downloadable licenses. I would be crowdfunding through there, but Stripe takes a percentage for processing and it's all counted for taxes. I'd like to keep business and gifts/donations separate for tax purposes. Typically, I would share my other shops, but due to the urgency of this situation, I will not be promoting them here. A free way of helping is simply sharing this GoFundMe.

My long term goal is to find a stable full time job, file for bankruptcy, and step away from freelancing. At this moment, I simply need help for now.

I think that's it for now. Thank you, take care.

Morgan

[strwberri-milk]

MC and Xavier/Zayne/Rafayel have a unplanned kid (or kids, i like the idea of twins too)

They are dating for only some months now, having a unplanned kid now would be a problem?

How would she talk about it with them? Or, would them be the one to notice first that something is strange? (I mean zayne is her doctor and ask for regular exams, you doctor is always the first to know the results right?)

They are just dating and never talked about marriage, would a baby change it? (I think rafayel is the romantic one who would want to marry before the baby is born)

How would them act while mc is pregnant? (Not to mention she tecnically have health problems)

Would them be extra carefull about her health?

What about her job as a hunter?

When its birth time, how would them react? (Maybe rafayel would freak out a bit?)

Besides that, what about the fluffynes, or feelings?

.

Also already leaving this here for another post (not that i would mind if you want to do it all in the same one): what about them as dads?

Starting at birth, how would be see their kid/kids the first time?

Would they take care of mc so she can recover after birth? (My friend had a 28h birth and breastfeeding was painfull, it was nothing like the in movies yk)

How would the kids be like? And what they would have in common with their parents?

.

Thank you very much since now ♡

nothing personal against you but this is a quick reminder to anybody whos new here to please please please check out my rules before requesting! I will be doing the dad hcs section and ONLY the dad hcs - nothing about pregnancy, pregnancy recovery, etc. etc. because i do not write for pregnancy - i can see youve put a lot of energy into this ask and i appreciate it but just as a heads up for the future please check my rules first!

Zayne is a great father. He isn't able to be as active as he would like to be in the earlier years of childhood because he wants to make sure that the child has enough money to be provided for for their entire life. He doesn't throw himself fully into work but he also is just as busy now as he was before the arrival of the child.

Once things settle and he gets used to a rhythm he might start taking less odd hours at the hospital. He's been interviewing for another surgeon or three that can replace his manpower when needed, not wanting to be the absolute backbone for the hospital anymore so he can be home as often as needed.

He can't totally get rid of those odd hours or being on call because it wouldn't be fair to the other staff as he isn't the only parent that works there but the load is definitely lessened with the way that he's worked things out. He wants to be as present as possible and he always does his best to get days off for any special events in the child's life, or just for the family in general.

He will definitely broach the idea of you being an at home parent. He wants there to be someone who can be there for the child at any given time and if you refuse he'll respect your wishes without saying much. It doesn't bother him too much but it is something he wants to bring up.

Xavier is immediately concerned about your lives as hunters. He's very confident in his ability to keep himself safe and it's not to say that he isn't confident in you, but he does worry about you being reckless. It's simply a case of him not being able to be with you at all times and being nervous about it. He'll try to convince you to take a safer job or consider working in a sector that wouldn't require you to be on the field as often.

In all fairness he also stops going off by himself for missions as often and makes it easy for you to find him or know where he is in case he has to go somewhere more remote. He'll be a little picky about who he works with just because he doesn't want them to impede the way he works. He already started playing it safe when you confided in him how much you worry when he does things dangerously but now with a child in the mix he's more aware of himself.

He is very active in the child's life. Definitely loves doing tummy time with it and cuddling with it. He gives both you and the child so much love and attention - there's no way it'll grow up without knowing how in love its parents are and how much its parents love it. You definitely love watching him interact with your child, finding it so adorable to see how he coos and plays.

Xavier also loves to read to your child. He's got a small collection of space themed children's book and now his nightly routine is reading a few of them to your child as it rests on his chest, pointing out all the little pictures and constellations and teaching it all about them.

Rafayel buys the cutest little outfits for the baby. He's definitely the kind of parent who buys designer clothes that will only fit for the week but the good thing is at least he doesn't pick anything that's overtly designer. He just likes dressing your baby well and he has expensive taste and the money to pay for it.

Rafayel is a little awkward at first being a father. He's used to communal child rearing being standard practise (a headcanon I have from the way he talks about his childhood/how I read interactions during myths) so he's a little out of his element. His Aunt definitely comes over constantly to coo over the new family member and Rafayel wouldn't mind hiring additional staff to help keep the home in order and support child rearing as well. He just doesn't want the nanny becoming a primary parental figure for the child - he thinks that honour should go to you and him.

Since he basically works from home he inadvertently spends a lot of time with the baby. He tries to get you to quit your job, citing that he makes more than enough money for you to either stay at home or find safer work but also won't stop you. However, if you continue actively working as a hunter in the field his anxiety around your absence worsens tenfold. He'll ask you to keep your phone on you as much as possible and with your permission will want the ability to monitor your location. He just wants to make sure you don't get hurt and really has your safety at the forefront of his mind at any given moment.

He's also going to be watching for any signs that your child is going to have any Lemurian traits. He doesn't want anybody to find out about it in case harm befalls your little family and also wants to be able to help your child through those changes the best he can. You'll be seeing a lot of his aunt around now to help the two of you - she never minds even if the child isn't Lemurian like they are because she just finds it adorable.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

(In)Delicate Touch

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @zehei Dabi has been working as a professional sub at La Vénus for a year and a half and he really does enjoy working there. The rooms are great, the way they book clients is clear and comprehensive, and he likes his boss a fair bit too. But one night a client goes too far and Dabi finds himself in a bad drop and nursing wounds he didn't want. He expects to get fired over causing so much trouble, but Tomura is there to lend a hand in any way that Dabi needs.

Content: BDSM club, sex work, bondage, impact play, safe word use, subdrop, aftercare, hurt/comfort, hand job, anal fingering, anal sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, praise kink.

Word Count: 10878

La Vénus is the only place Dabi bothers to take contracts through anymore. The BDSM club is the best in Kamino and it is the only one that really keeps up with the professionals who want to use it as a place to do business. They even have a portal on their website so that professional doms and subs can put their profiles, their limits, their availability, and a secure line for contacting. La Vénus has rules, of course. They're considered independent contractors and they can be removed from the club whenever the owner dismisses them, but they take a very small cut of the money they earn, and the security they provide is well-worth the price. Dabi doesn't have to be scared of giving his apartment address to anyone or going to a secondary location with a client, and V ensures that they are always abiding by the rules by having a row of rooms for their working doms and subs that have open windows, so that anyone can see inside and be certain that their business is being conducted appropriately. 

If he also happens to think that the owner is hot as fuck with his hair pushed back, his deadly fucking quirk barely contained by his gloves, and his perfectly tailored black suit with a blood red coat, and getting to check in with him before every shift is fucking perfect, then that's his business. 

"Just one session tonight, Dabi?" Shigaraki asks, checking his phone for the contract he and his dom for the night submitted for use of one of those rooms. 

"It's supposed to be a long bondage one." He explains. 

"Hmm, are you sure that all of the information you entered is correct? I thought you only used silk and no nylon for your staples." Dabi is genuinely surprised Shigaraki has paid that much attention to him, or at least to his preferences. He's got upwards of three hundred people in this club every night of the week and he's never seen the other man take a day off in the year and a half he's been subbing here. Not only that but he's got twenty doms and subs on rotation, he didn't think that anyone would bother to remember more than the names of the people he's been working with. 

"It was his first time booking, he might have mis-clicked. Can I still make adjustments to the room setup?" There's only another twenty minutes till the club opens its door and Dabi is supposed to be alone for at least an hour before his client arrives. He was planning on putting on a nice little peepshow for people, but he'd rather make certain that the room and everything is all set up for his session with a client. 

"Of course. I can have silk brought to your room." He agrees. "Do you want red to... match?" Dabi's already put up his coat and bag in the private changing area that the performers have access to, so he's just in his dark red lacy panties and the silver body chains with small red crystal dangles hanging off of them. He used to go for a blue look, but to distinguish workers from anyone else just looking to partake at the club, all of the performers from doms and subs to strippers and workshop teachers have to wear a deep red leather collar with La Venus embellished on it in silver foil. He didn't want the accessory to look out of place, and pivoted to wearing red instead of blue at the club. 

"If it's not too much trouble." Dabi always likes to think about his optics. Other people he's talked shop with around the club say they're usually focusing on a scene when they're in it, and that's great that works for them, but Dabi wants to be certain that he's staying constantly vigilant, and that he's setting himself up for future clients too. If their sessions are all going to be observable, then he is going to be a hell of a sight to see, and he's gonna make sure that he's got his aesthetic dialed in. 

"It's no trouble at all, Dabi." Shigaraki tells him easily.. "Does everything else seem alright?" Dabi reviews the contract again, and that looks like the only thing that was entered wrong, and he nods. "Alright, you're going to be in L2 today," he reaches back on the wall, unlocking the glass door and retrieving the key for the right room. His favorite room actually. He likes being on the left side because the bounce light is a little more diffused from that side, giving people a clearer view through the window, and he likes being in rooms two or three in that hall because those are the ones that people tend to linger in front of more, not wanting to clog up the entryway as they try to get to the seating areas that also line the hall. 

"Thanks, Shigaraki." He takes the key, but the owner doesn't let go of the tag for a second. 

"You know you can call me 'Tomura'." 

"Maybe when I'm off the clock, boss." He retorts easily. No matter how hot the other man is, Dabi doesn't want to get distracted. This is his job, he can't go around fucking that up by getting familiar or, god forbid, flirting with the guy who's establishment pays his bills. 

Shigaraki, for his part, looks wryly amused and lets him head out after that, the next person slipping in to confirm their night's plans as well. Dabi heads to his room to finish getting ready and wait for his silk. Maybe he will have a chance to put on that peep show after all. 

///

Dabi spends the first hour that V is open teasing his nipples and palming himself through his panties on the bed getting himself achingly hard and so close to the edge, but easing off of his peak to keep himself 'unspoiled' for his client who asked for him to be pent up and a little frustrated. Definitely a streak of sadist in him, but Dabi isn't a stranger to that, and he's looking forward to getting thoroughly worked over. 

Jin, one of the security team he recognizes at a glance, brings the new client to the door and Dabi is fully not expecting the blonde man to be so much taller than he is even after knowing he would be from his ID when he booked the session. Dabi steels his nerves. "Goto, it's good to meet you, I'm looking forward to our session." He starts with a pleasant smile. "If we can just re-touch on rules and boundaries, then I'd be happy to submit to you. Would you like to sit?" 

"Yeah, sure." The blond only has one eye, his prosthetic in the missing one looking like it's been forced into place with the metallic spikes around it that is kind of intimidating. He sits and Dabi starts to go through his usual spiel, he restates his hard limits, that they'll be using the traffic light system, the hand gestures that he will use if at any point during the session he goes non-verbal for any reason, and then he turns back to ask if there's anything he needs to go over as well. Goto is flat and unmoved when he says, "No." Sounding more bored than anything and Dabi's skin prickles with the first stirrings of discomfort. "Why are there silks instead of ropes?" 

He frowns slightly, "During the consultation, I said that I couldn't use rope over my staples. Since you said you wanted a heavy rigging session, I had it switched for silk since that's something my skin can tolerate." 

The other man considers the silk for a second before scoffing softly. "Fine. But you can take impact, can't you? If we're using silk, I want to use a paddle instead of my hands." 

Dabi doesn't normally love to use a paddle, it's wider and less accurate, meaning partners can overlap his staples on accident and leave him with fresh wounds. "I think that a riding crop would leave prettier marks, don't you, Sir?" He offers instead carefully. 

Goto looks him up and down and Dabi tries to look smaller and softer for him. Clearly he's more of a sadist than he'd originally thought, but the pay for this session is half of his rent this month. He can put up with this if it gets him what he needs. "Fine." Dabi expects him to ask about his levels, to get the toy off of the offered wall of them and test his tolerance. It's good practice for a session like this, but Dabi figures, 

"Remember, club rules state no impact with any implements across the face, and only light impact across the stomach and places prone to injury. My staples are fragile, so please avoid those where you can, but anywhere else is alright." 

"Yeah, got it, can we get started now?" The blond nearly snaps. Dabi bristles, but says nothing. It's his first time at V as far as he said during the booking. Maybe he's uncomfortable knowing the far wall is a window, even if it looks like a mirror from their side. 

He makes concessions on his politeness and breathes out a slow breath, trying to shake his tension and allow himself to slip into the headspace that he needs to. "Of course we can, if that would please my master." He simpers sweetly, trying for doe-eyed and helpless. 

The man starts to loosen some of his tension and tosses the jacket he was wearing over his black mesh tank top onto the chair in the corner of the room for more intimate cucking or voyeuristic sessions. "That's better, whore. I better not hear another mouthy word out of you, or I'm going to have to get rough." 

Not his favorite type of scene, but Dabi is a professional sub, he submits.

///

Goto is rough with him, and he likes his knots tight. They're loose enough, he thinks, for maybe one of Dabi's fingers, but his feel bigger as they move over his skin and knot them into place. He works methodically, not paying much attention to Dabi himself as he works. He occasionally pulls at the silk with an unhappy set around his mouth, but he clearly knows what he's doing, and Dabi finds himself over the course of an hour, knotted into a few different positions, as the other man gets a good look at his body and how flexible he is like this, before he ends up in a ball tie, tipped on his side. When the ropes are secure, thankfully, the other man doesn't actually also reach for a ball gag. He just puts his bigger hand over his ass, and palms him through his panties. He's not really doing much but groping him, and it doesn't really feel good, but Dabi moans anyway. 

The yelp he lets out the next second is real though as the riding crop comes down across the back of his tied thighs so hard that Dabi would put the pain at a seven already. The sound splits the air and he nearly chokes on his breath. 

"Not another nasty sound out of you, whore. You're not here to feel good, you're here for me to use." 

Dabi holds up three fingers to show that he understands, and then bites his lower lip hard as another crack comes down, this time just beneath his ass. And the next overlaps the first. Then across his exposed hip, along the outside of his thigh. It hurts, going up to a nine and holding there as the man hits him again and again with the crop. he goes over his scars, over his healthy skin, and the blood rushing up to the freshly forming welts as they swell, puts an uncomfortable pressure along his seams, especially around his thighs. He swears that between the ropes holding his legs together and pressed to his chest, and the ache of the impact, he's going to pop out his staples along those seams. 

"Y-yellow," he manages as he's panting between blows. 

"Thought I fucking said to keep your mouth shut?" The riding crop gets tossed to the bed, and in that second, Dabi thinks that he is setting it aside to check in. 

But the next robs him of that delusion entirely. Goto's hand fists in Dabi's hair, and he grabs hard to force his face into the sheets. Dabi barely manages to tuck his chin tighter to his chest so that he isn't smothered into the pillows and unable to speak as the man cuts off the other way he would be able to signal that he needs to stop. "Red!" He cries out, wanting to be let up immediately. 

"God, you whores here have had it too good. Thinking you can tell me what to do? When to stop? You need to learn your fucking place." He snarls, using one hand to hold him down while his other goes to-- Dabi hears the metal and leather sliding through each other as his belt is pulled. Fuck, fuck, fuck, 

"Red! Stop--" He hears the other man spit into his hand and his whole body goes hot with his terror. No, no, no, even if he hasn't moved his panties out of the way yet, if he gets that, or anything else in his seams when they hurt so badly, when they're so close to open, then he could get sick. He can't get sick again, he can't. Dabi tries to fumble for his quirk desperately, wanting to burn the silk from around his body, wanting to scare this fucker before he does anything worse to him--

"Don't you know that I own you?" 

It's like every string in him has been cut. Dabi's whole body goes so instantaneously numb that he can't make his quirk work. I own you. It's not Goto's voice that echoes in his mind. Not pain hits his body as he is shunted so sharply to hiding in his room with Natsuo as their father snarls at their mother. It's a stupid fear, it's an old helplessness that he shouldn't let distract himself now, not when he can't stop that memory, but he has to stop this disgusting man from ruining him even more as he hears his hand moving roughly over his cock. 

"Don't!" His voice doesn't even sound like his own, he can barely recognize it. It hasn't been filled with such sharp, anguished terror since he was burning--

"Get away from him!" There's movement, shouting, a scream behind him, but Dabi is only shakily trying to push his quirk away now, so scared he may light the bed on fire accidentally. He can't hurt his seams again, can't use his quirk right now, he'll burn it all to the ground and he's already destroyed whatever place he had here. Dabi sobs against the bed, his fear too big and sharp to make sense of whatever is happening beyond his body. 

There are voices, he thinks, furious and short, and the kind of whispers that come in the wake of something awful. He's the awful thing. He lost control of a session. He's the one who's broken, bleeding now, if not from his seams, than from his eyes as he sobs on the bed. 

"Dabi," the voice comes, addressing him and the bed dips just the slightest bit. He doesn't know who's speaking to him, just that it's not that man. This voice is low and trying to soothe him, he thinks, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the fear choking his chest and his quirk that is rioting beneath his skin. "Dabi, you're starting to smoke." The voice is so gentle. "No one is going to hurt you anymore." He waits but Dabi doesn't believe him. People are always hurting him. He's always hurting himself. Why would this be any different? He sobs harder and there is a longer pause, probably as the new voice decides where he deserves to be hurt when he's already been broken so thoroughly. "Can I touch you, Dabi?" 

He barely croaks, "R-red--" Through his sobs. He needs it to stop. He has to make it stop. 

"The scene is over, Dabi," the voice promises him. "I just want to untie you. Don't you think it would help if you could sit up, Dabi?" 

Would it? Could he make himself small on his own terms then? He sniffles, but it doesn't stop the tears. He barely manages to nod. 

"Okay, I'm not going to touch you. You just need to hold still, alright?" Dabi does his best to do as he's told, but tensing his muscles lightly makes them start to shake hard. He feels a little tug at one of the silks and then he's got the whisper of... something barely heavier than air against his skin, and the restrictive silk is gone. It happens twice more and then Dabi is able to slump against the bed, his limbs under his own control again, and Dabi does his best to push himself up, mind still swimming through a rolling sickness. Sick. He could get sick again. He could get hit again. He needs to focus. 

It feels impossible to do as he forces his mostly numb arms beneath his chest as he tries to turn around. His vision swims through his tears and he doesn't find the hulking man with blond hair anywhere in the room. The far curtain has been drawn over the viewing window, and Shigaraki is sitting at the foot of the bed, his hands resting in his lap. No, no, no. Further panic makes his ribs constrict sharply around his lungs. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry--" he sobs immediately. He's ruined everything, he's made so much trouble for the club. Oh-- oh god, he's really never going to be able to work here again. He's going to have to go back to what he did before--going to have to take on more clients like Goto, going to have to risk his health, his safety-- 

"Dabi, you don't need to apologize. I just need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?" 

He should be able to, shouldn't he? That's supposed to be the simplest thing a person can do, but he can't quite manage it past the tiny hiccupping sips of air that he's making himself in past the hitching sobs that are shaking his body. 

"...Okay, can you look at me, sweetheart?" Shigaraki's voice goes even softer, and Dabi forces himself to peek up at him from the tight hunch he's made of himself up against the headboard. "That's perfect, now I just need you to follow my breaths. You don't have to be perfect," he soothes, "I just want you to try. Can you try for me, Dabi?" 

Shigaraki takes a slow breath in, holds it for a few seconds, and then he lets it out in a long steady stream. Dabi doesn't think he'll ever breathe like that again, not when his chest is so tight, but he isn't being yelled at yet, isn't being hit, and he doesn't want that to change. He tries so hard for the first few breaths, but he can't stop crying for long enough to manage it on those. 

But Shigaraki smiles at him anyway, "That's it, you're already doing such a good job for me, sweetheart. Can you keep going?" He resumes the patterned breathing, and the soft encouragement makes Dabi try harder. He's already made such a mess, he has to be at least capable of doing this right. 

He forces himself to breathe. Each one stutters and stalls until his tears aren't so constant, until they're just a scattered few droplets on his cheeks and his lungs are able to fill a little more. In some vague, dizzy shadow of his mind, he thinks he was hoping that breathing again would make the awful, cold pit in his gut disperse a little. That maybe the breaths would loosen that knot of dread, but he doesn't feel that happen. His dread stays settled against his nerves as those wake up after shorting out to try to protect him from what was happening to his body. Suddenly, he's not just scared, exhausted, and sick to his stomach, he's in pain too, and he starts to shake, a thin whimper leaving him as he looks down at himself. He has to uncurl his knees from his chest to see the side of his thigh that was exposed to the crop. 

The welt he finds across his scar is so puffy that he can see it clearly, and it's shiny. The color is too dark for him to tell if it's blood, sweat, or if it's because it's just so swollen around the fresh wound, but it hurts and he needs... something. He can't get sick again, but he is having such a hard time reordering his thoughts, figuring out what he needs to do next when everything hurts and his mind is so foggy. 

"Are you in pain, Dabi?" Shigaraki keeps talking to him softly, and Dabi barely manages to nod. "I want to get you something to drink and some medicine, but there isn't anything here." He explains carefully. "Do you think that we can move to somewhere else where I can get you those things?" 

He doesn't want to hurt anymore. He doesn't want to get sick. Dabi barely manages to nod his head, the action feeling like it takes every ounce of his strength.

"Good, do you think you can stand by yourself, sweetheart?" 

Dabi doesn't know. He feels weak and his legs hurt more than anything else. He is shaking already when he just manages to uncurl his arms from around them. It's the first flicker of sense that goes through his head when he kicks off his pumps before even attempting to put his feet against the floor. Shigaraki stands as well. 

"Can I come closer, Dabi? You can hold onto my arm if you need help." He smiles at him as he makes the offer and Dabi doesn't have the energy to speak. He manages to hold three fingers against the rumpled sheets and moves to the edge. The shock of the cold floor against his bare feet is such a small thing to make him uncomfortable, but everything inside of him is already so messy that he can't tolerate it, pulling his legs back up. "...Is it too much?" 

He manages another tiny nod. 

"Okay, can I pick you up? I promise I'll be very gentle, and when I put you down, you'll be able to have some water and something for the pain." 

He doesn't want to think. He doesn't even want to exist right now. He leaves his fingers open against the sheets. Shigaraki can do whatever he wants to him now. He's already broken. What's another fracture in his skin? 

"I'm going to pick you up. I need you to keep your hands where I can see them so I know if it's hurting." Why bother? He won't stop if it does. 

It doesn't hurt when Shigaraki picks him up. He's careful as he lifts him off of the bed, supporting his back with one arm and the other hooking under his knees instead of his thighs to keep as much pressure away from the welts as possible. Dabi is lifted and he gives up. He tucks his face against Shigaraki's white shirt and closes his eyes as exhaustion sweeps so completely through him. 

///

He's not certain how long passes between being carried from that room to finding himself blinking as he notices that there's something sugary on his tongue. It's soda, he realizes after a second, lemon-lime soda. The sweetness of that helps him to take stock of other parts of his body. He is aching and sore. His broken body hates him again and it's his fault. It's always his fault. He should have known better, should have been more careful. But he wasn't and now he's hurting and he deserves it. 

Dabi pulls away from the straw that's being offered to him and tries to take in his surroundings. They're in one of the private rooms, the actual private rooms of the club, and instead of having the lights low and a thrum of music going through the sparse bedroom, the lights are on all the way and it's as quiet as it can be with the activities of the club still filtering in from past the door. Shigaraki is sitting on the chair that has been dragged to the edge of the bed that Dabi's sitting on. The backs of his legs hurt, and he shifts a little on the edge as the other watches him, taking the cup away and putting it on the side table when he finishes with that. 

"...I'm sorry." His voice sounds like it's been completely scraped raw as he tries to make his head clear. He needs to go. He made so much trouble. He has to leave. If he leaves by himself, at least, then he won't have to be kicked out. He would rather save some small thread of his dignity than have to give that up too. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi." Shigaraki's voice is that same low, careful tone that he doesn't deserve. "Are you still hurting? I had Yumina bring some of the bruise salve. Do you want to put some of that on?"

The welts definitely hurt and he would really like for them not to anymore, but he just shakes his head and starts to stand. "Can I get my stuff before I go?" His voice shakes as he asks. It wouldn't be the first time he's just been kicked out without any of his things. But he doesn't know how he's going to even make his rent without V. He can't have to start over with his whole life without his phone too. 

"... If you think you're ready for that, then I need to know if you want me to call the police." Shigaraki asks. 

Dabi blanches, fear swelling through his chest and making it go tight. "What?" Did he break his contract with the club? He thought he would be fired, not arrested. 

"Do you want to press charges against him? I know it's difficult in situations like this, but if you want to have him arrested, we can do that. If you want..." Shigaraki's expression blackens, "Other repercussions made, then we can decide on that as well." 

Him? His head feels like it's still full of fluff. "...Aren't you mad at me?" His voice is tiny when he manages the question. 

That replaces the darkness on his features with something softer and more surprised in an instant. "Of course not, Dabi. You did everything you needed to, there's no reason for me to be upset with you." He watches Dabi as he says those words and Dabi has no idea what his face does, but he is even more deliberate and careful as he keeps speaking. "I'm sorry that happened, I'm sorry that I didn't get there faster. But you're not in trouble, and we're going to make sure that Imasuji never does something like this again." 

His seams beneath his eyes hurt and he feels something hot and wet drip against his thighs. 

Shigaraki sees him start to cry and shifts slightly before catching himself. "Can I touch you?" 

Dabi hesitates, half expecting to be hit again, but he finally gives a tiny nod. Shigaraki gathers him up, and pulls him close, tucking Dabi's head beneath his chin and getting him to sit at an angle in his lap so that the worst of the welts don't have any pressure against them. And then his hands start to pet so gently over his skin. He holds him and he speaks, 

"I'm so glad you called out for help. I'm so sorry that happened and I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that nothing like this happens again. I promise that you're going to be safe if you want to keep working here." 

"...I can stay?" 

Shigaraki looks at him like he wishes he could pull all of the pain out of Dabi's skin. He curls a hand gently around the back of his neck and he rests their foreheads together. "Of course you can, sweetheart. I wouldn't want you anywhere else." 

The tears fall a little faster and Dabi tangles his fingers into Shigaraki's shirt, clinging to him as he begins to sob fresh. 

///

It's not until he notices the pain getting more intense in his legs that he tries to take stock of himself again. Shigaraki reaches over to the side table and takes one of the tissues to help dab away the blood from under his sore seams and crusted under his staples. He hisses slightly from how broken and achy they feel and is hit with another jolt of fear over how bad they must be. 

"Are you in more pain?" Shigaraki glances at his watch, "You can have another dose of pain medicine if you want it." 

Dabi doesn't remember even taking the first, but that must mean it's been hours since the last one and he feels sharply guilty for forcing the other to stay for so long dealing with him. "I'm okay," he can be. He will be, he thinks. Maybe. If he's not actually broken from everything that happened before. "I need to go home--" He tries to shift and can't help the sharp sound of pain he makes as he puts a little more weight on the welts and his aching seams. 

"Dabi, I won't make you have anything you don't want, but I need to know you're going to be alright if you decide to leave." 

He swallows, not wanting to look at him, but not trusting his muscles much after how much just that little shifting hurt. "...I need my medicine." He admits quietly. 

And Shigaraki doesn't blink. "Okay, is it in your bag? Do you want me to have someone bring it for you?" 

"...Okay." 

Shigaraki shifts his hold on Dabi's body slightly and he sees him pull out his phone and shoot off a text to Jin to have someone bring Dabi his things. He gets an affirmative, and after just a couple of minutes, Shigaraki is picking him up again so that he can put him on the edge of the bed while he goes over to the door to retrieve the bag. He brings it over and Dabi pulls out the alcohol wipes and his salve before being faced with the location of the hurts and how he's going to manage to check them. 

"Why don't you lay on your stomach? I can help you." He offers gently. "You can watch in the mirror and let me know if there's anything you need." 

He considers protesting, but he doesn't have a better option if he wants to see how these look and how fucked he's going to be trying to get back into his tight leather pants before he walks home. If he can even manage that. "Okay," he agrees quietly, making himself lay on his stomach, the chains and crystal beads pressing against his skin. He takes a shaky breath and turns his head so that he can look at himself in the mirror that's suspended above the bed. 

The welts are dark and crusted with tacky deep red scabs at some of the highest points and the places where they overlap with each other. That's not good, but Dabi is more scared of his seams as his attention goes lower. His staples are doing their best to keep his skin together, the sections there so swollen with irritation from either side of his skin being abused that they've nearly expanded past their limits, but they are, technically, shut. He gives a soft sigh of relief. Shigaraki makes sure he's watching and then starts to clean him up with gentle, deliberate movements, always giving Dabi enough time to ask him to stop before he touches the next place on his body. And each touch is light and careful. His skin is cool through his gloves as he opens the alcohol wipes and dabs away the bits of blood before going to the salve Dabi spends most of his money making sure he never runs out of. 

He immediately lets out a shaky sigh of relief at the first cold touch of the creme against his skin. The medicine is a thin antibiotic lotion that has a slight numbing effect that takes away a lot of the lingering discomfort. Knowing that he is getting what he needs, that his seams aren't actually open, that helps to take away the threads of fear in him, and he lets himself watch Shigaraki in the mirror as he rubs the medicine into his skin. 

He moves in soft circles, making sure to get along the welts and along each line of his seams and puncture of his staples. His hands are delicate, not looking to hurt him any more than he already has been tonight, and Dabi... starts to drift as the fear, pain, and worry ebb. He's being taken care of. He gets that so rarely. Normally he barely lets himself have a minute or two of aftercare once as session is over, and even then, he's usually using that time to try and get his client to book another session while they're still coming down from the high of their domination or while they're still aching for a release they'll need to find on their own elsewhere in the club. But this feels good. He can't remember the last time someone else helped him put the medicine on his skin. 

More of the pain fades as he finally allows himself to relax a little more against the sheets and he sighs. Shigaraki's hand stills for a second, but when Dabi timidly leaves three fingers open against the sheets, he feels three open in return against his thigh before he keeps tending to the wounds and swollen areas of skin. It puts a soft kind of warmth in his body that makes him want more of that. He's being careful, he's listening to him and taking care of him. Dabi wonders distantly if it says something sad and pathetic just that is enough to make his body temperature creep up a little higher the touches continue. 

He doesn't mean to let out the little moan that slips his lips when Tomura's fingers move along his seam towards his inner thighs, but it feels so nice to have a soft touch there. Dabi opens his legs a little more and shifting against the sheets lets him feel that his cock has started to harden too. Tomura stops when he hears that soft sound of pleasure and Dabi is reluctant to look over his shoulder to see his face, instead watching him stiffen over him in the mirror. A sharper fear goes through him. He wasn't supposed to make any noises, was he? Is he going to be hit again?

"Does that feel better, baby boy?" Tomura's voice is a little thicker, lower, and his fingers trail from the inside of his thighs along to the outer edge so that he's not touching any hurts anymore. And he puts two fingers against Dabi's skin, waiting. 

Is this a scene? Could it be? Dabi wants to take away the unpleasantness still echoing around in him from what came before. But... he doesn't know if he'll be allowed that, even when it's Shigaraki's collar looped around his neck. "...Yes, Sir. More?" He chances, keeping his hand as is. 

"Of course baby, just have to tell me if there's anything you don't like." He strokes along his thighs again, and Dabi watches in the mirror as he goes from just trailing two fingers over his skin, to both of his palms open, the soft leather touching his seams and healthy skin. This touch goes between his legs, up a little higher, light and good. A nice touch after the angry ones, and Dabi lets out a tiny sigh. "Does that feel nice, sweetheart?" 

He tucks his face into the sheets, giving up on the mirror, and manages a nod against them. Dabi doesn't normally get to be soft after something so rough, but the contrast feels so good. Like it's putting fluff around all the hurts that were written into his soul and skin. He shifts and Tomura's hands immediately retreat, but Dabi only wanted to push up a little, getting his knees a little more under him so that he would be able to lift his hips slightly as he starts to get harder, and to spread his legs a little more. 

"Good boy," Tomura murmurs, his hands going back to his skin and tracing circles up his thighs, deeper between them. He goes higher, but not where Dabi wants them. He wants something that feels good now. Tomura's already made things so much better. He can take away the last sharp bits of unhappiness in him, he knows he can. "You just have to show me what you need, baby boy, I'll give you anything." And he sounds a little breathless as he speaks. 

It makes the neediness in him go a little hotter and he makes himself let go of the sheets so that he can reach back and find Tomura's arm. He hooks his fingers in the edge of his gloves and feels his face go hot as he pulls at him. He lets his arm be moved and Dabi brings it further between his legs, until his fingers are grazing the edge of his panties. Tomura takes over from there and Dabi is holding onto the sheets again as he moves his fingers lightly over his covered balls and up to his hardening cock. 

"You want to feel good, sweetheart?" His voice going hotter. 

Dabi manages a little nod, still certain he won't be allowed that after before. 

Tomura's fingers stroke up his cock, cupping him through the lace as he hums softly. "I can do that, baby boy, but I need you to move for me." His hand retreats and Dabi wants it back, so he lets Tomura get him onto his back, and Dabi is confronted with the sight of himself in the ceiling mirror. His face is flushed and still a little blotchy from crying. He looks dazed as the chains glitter in the light of the room, his legs spread wide, knees bent to keep the worst of the welts from touching the bed. And his cock is hard and stretching his panties. Tomura moves between his spread legs, leaning over him carefully and blocking his view in the mirror. And there's not a trace of cruelty in his look. His eyes are warm and he's smiling at Dabi softly. "Can I take off your panties, sweetheart? I want to make your pretty cock feel good." 

Dabi bites his lip and nods. 

"Can I hear your color? It will make me feel better if I know you're using them." He asks, reaching to cup his cheek and stroke his thumb just under one of his aching seams. 

"Green, Sir." 

"Good. But you don't have to call me that, baby boy. I can be whatever you need from me right now. What do you want, sweetheart?" 

He wants to be safe. He wants to feel good. He wants the softness and sweetness that he never gets, let alone after something bad has happened. And he wants to be small in the wake of that. "Daddy," he whispers, his face going so hot with his shame, terrified that he can't have this either. 

Tomura's smile makes his eyes warm too as he leans over him, his hand shifting so that he can push his hair from his forehead. The kiss he presses there feels like a balm as much as his medicine did against his hurts. "You're doing such a good job for me, baby boy. Lift your hips a little more." 

He does and Tomura makes sure the thin fabric doesn't rub against any of the welts as he pulls his panties down his legs. Dabi kicks out of them when they're low enough and then he chances reaching for Tomura, getting one hand in his hair that is as thick and soft as he's always wondered. He lets himself be pulled up, but when Dabi wants a hard, messy kiss to reassure him that this is something he can have, he's instead given one that is so soft and achingly tender that it makes him breathless. His whole body gets a little warmer as Tomura kisses him, his hands moving lightly over his skin, stroking up his thighs before he shifts over him.

 Dabi almost whines, but he feels him reaching and hears the rustle of plastic as he finds the bowl on the side table that holds the variety of lubes that are in every room for the club-goers' use. Tomura picks one at random and brings his other hand up to tear it open, and when he wraps his hand around Dabi's length, his glove glides across his skin and makes Dabi's toes curl with pleasure. The touch there, after the pain from before, after denying himself even earlier, makes him gasp, wrapping his arms around Tomura's neck to keep him close as he touches him. 

He moans, his hips moving, trying to get more of that good sensation after a night of bad. "Daddy," he pleads. 

"I've got you, baby boy." He murmurs, pressing a kiss softly to the seam aching under one of his eyes. His fingers move over him, making sure to rub along his ladder and around his head, bringing Dabi's pleasure higher. He whimpers when he tightens his thighs around Daddy's hips and it makes his hurts ache a little. But he doesn't have to hurt for long. Tomura immediately shifts so that he has one hand under his hip, lifting Dabi's weight a bit and moving it higher on his back, making sure that none of the welts are rubbing against the sheets and that he doesn't have to try to get him closer, not when he's holding onto him, his legs supporting his lower half. And letting him feel Daddy's cock is getting hard too where it's pressed against him. 

Tomura doesn't pay his own arousal any attention, his hand moving deliberately over Dabi's cock, searching and finding every place that makes his pleasure sharper. His body is already so exhausted from the night, that it's not hard for him to get lost in the feelings, for his head to start to float into that soft good space that makes him love being a sub. And when he moans and tries to move into the pleasure, he doesn't get yelled at, he doesn't get hurt, instead Daddy gives him more kisses. 

"There, you're doing such a good job, baby boy. I'm so happy that you're letting me help you feel good, sweetheart. You're so pretty when you're blushing like this." And the words put more of that needy, squirmy heat in him through the heavy fog rolling in. He twists his wrist as he strokes him and Dabi moans loudly, hips jumping up into the touch. Daddy sees how much he likes that and he keeps doing it on each stroke, making him shiver and tremble, moans spilling off his lips and his fingers tugging at Daddy's suit jacket as his cock leaks. 

It only takes a few more of those tight, perfect strokes before Dabi's back is arching again, smoke curling out of his throat, as he cums, spilling all over Daddy's hand and his own stomach. He gasps, trembling against the sheets as that bliss soaks through his veins and leaves him absolutely boneless. 

"Perfect, baby boy. You did such a good job for me. I'm so proud of you, precious." He starts to shift, reaching for another wipe to clean him up and even floating, Dabi knows he doesn't want to get cleaned up yet. He doesn't want to stop. He wants Daddy to make him feel so good that he doesn't even remember the welts against his thighs. 

"Daddy," Tomura pauses and Dabi struggles to find more words, "More? Please?" He tries to be careful, making sure to only put pressure on the inside of his thighs as he tightens them around Tomura's hips. And then he rolls his hips down, breathless when he feels how big and hard Daddy's cock is. 

"Are you sure, sweetheart? All I want is to take care of you. We don't need to do anything else." He reassures him, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Dabi knots his fingers in his jacket a little tighter and pulls at it, nodding. "Green. Please, Daddy?" 

"Of course, precious. But if you change your mind, if you don't like something, all you have to do is tell me, and then we'll be all done, okay?" 

"Mmhm," he mumbles, pulling at his shirt again. 

Tomura gives him another kiss, and then only partially disappoints Dabi because he does have to move away if he wants to strip himself of his clothes, the fabric getting tossed item by item onto the chair until he's only wearing his gloves. Only what he needs to make certain that Dabi is safe before he moves back between his legs and kisses his lips again. Dabi loses himself in that, his hands now getting to move over all of the pretty pale muscles that have been hiding under his clothes. 

Daddy's hands move over his skin too, touching his chest, pushing his chains out of the way so that he can play with the rings through his nipples, and over his sides, down his stomach, up his thighs. He goes slowly, his mouth going across Dabi's jaw and along his neck and collar bones, looking for places that make Dabi's skin go warm again. When his hands go lower he opens his legs wider, when his fingers, slick again from more lube touch him tentatively, he gasps, "Green," again before they start to move against him. 

He has to keep one arm around the back of his neck, still scared of being tossed aside while he's getting so close to the perfect floaty place he rarely ever gets to find, but the other knots back against the sheets, needing something else to hold onto. Whimpers and moans spill past his lips as Daddy circles his hole until those nerves are prickling with need. When his first finger presses in he feels gone, as the pleasure aches through him as his cock starts to harden again. 

Tomura opens him up with the same deliberate, gentle movements as he did to soothe his hurts and by the time he has three inside of him, moving against his prostate, he is near tears again from how good he feels this time. "Tomura!" He can't help the sounds spilling from him, his cock pressing against his stomach and drooling fresh pre from how needy every touch is making him. "Tomura, Daddy, please, please!" His nails bite into the sheets and the back of his neck. "Please, I want it, please, want your cock." 

"I'm going to give it to you, precious, just have to wait a little longer." Tomura gives him another kiss before he shifts again, pulling a condom from the bowl of them and Dabi waits with breathless impatience for  him to get it on before he's pulling him back in, and shifting to help him line up. His head rubs against his hole as Tomura untangles his fingers from the sheets, catching that hand and threading their fingers together. Before he can feel overwhelmed from the tenderness of that action, he starts to press inside and Dabi is lost in the stretch of him inside. 

It feels like it takes an eternity for him to be so deliciously, perfectly full. Tomura presses more soft kisses across his face as Dabi pants and whimpers, every breath makes his nerves sing like his whole body is trying to make up for the agony from earlier by amplifying every flicker of pleasure. He's hazy with it as he demands, "Green, Daddy," when he can't possibly stand to wait a second longer for it to get even better. 

Tomura breathes a laugh against his skin, leaning back just enough so that Dabi can see him smile. See his pretty eyes looking at him like he's the whole world. "Okay, baby boy, but you know what to say if it's too much?" He nods weakly and Tomura gives him another kiss as he starts to move. 

Dabi has never had sex like this before. He has never been so deep in the cloud of his subspace, never been touched like he was something precious. He has never had someone moving inside of his body, doing everything they could to make him feel good the way Tomura is. He makes sure that he's rubbing against his prostate, going at a slow, deliberate pace that keeps from putting any hard pressure against his seams or bruises, and he doesn't lose his patience with that. He keeps fucking Dabi so carefully instead of chasing his own pleasure, and he looks at him, holds his hand, like this is all he needs. Like seeing Dabi falling apart under him is all he could ever need in the world. Like he's not a burden, not an inconvenience, not an employee, but something... precious. It all makes his head so messy in such a different way than before that Dabi is smoking again as his quirk heightens alongside his pleasure. 

He is so hazy that he doesn't know how long Tomura is moving with him, kissing him, his hand tightening against Dabi's as they both build their ecstasy higher and higher. But Daddy's fucking him slow, so it must be a while. He doesn't know if it matters though, because when his cock starts to ache again, his balls going so tight, and just before his orgasm pulses through him again, he finds himself squeezing their interlocked hands together a little tighter. 

"Tomura," his name is a gasp and he's not expecting the other to whisper back, 

"Dabi," like he's the most important thing in the world. He really doesn't mean for that to push him over the edge, his body thrumming with pleasure that goes even higher as Tomura bottoms out inside of him as they cum together. Dabi doesn't think he's ever managed that with a partner either, but his fog is far too thick for him to care as Tomura captures his lips in another all-consuming kiss. 

///

They lay in bed together for a while, Tomura pressing more kisses and praise into his skin until Dabi stops trembling with his pleasure. Until his fog rolls back from his mind and after the night he's had, all he can do is feel exhausted. Tomura didn't bother taking off his watch when he was getting ready to fuck him, so Dabi catches the edge of his glove and pulls on it so he can see the time. 

"Fucking hell--" he starts to sit up out of the circle of the other's embrace as he realizes it's dawn. He started his session at eleven. "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" His stomach sinks. Fuck, fuck, he cause so much trouble for the club tonight and then he'd fucking slept with his boss. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi." Tomura tells him immediately in the same even tone as he did before, with the same warmth in his eyes. "Are you feeling better?" 

He hesitates, taking stock of himself now that his head doesn't feel nearly as out of sorts as he had since he dropped. "Yeah... thanks for taking care of me." 

"Of course--" 

"No," he pushes a little harder, straightening his spine. "You didn't have to do that. You could have left me to deal with it myself, you could have called the cops and let me come down barely-clothed in a police station. But you made sure to take care of me here, and treated the bruises. Thank you." 

Tomura doesn't dismiss the words this time. "...You're welcome, Dabi. Is there anything else that you need?" 

"A shower, breakfast I guess, and the patience to deal with cops and heroes for a couple of hours if I decide to report that douchebag for assault." 

Shigaraki's expression darkens. "This room has a bathroom attached. If you want to go clean up, I can go get your day clothes from your locker and bring them in for you. I can't offer much as far as food goes, but I might be able to help ease the stress of the last part." 

Has Goto been held here the whole time? He'd asked if he wanted to go to the police earlier, but Dabi hadn't been thinking clearly enough to put that statement into any more context. "Okay." Tomura hesitates a second, and then leans in and presses another kiss to his forehead. 

"I'll be right back, firefly." 

///

Dabi goes and takes a shower, and by the time he's finished and dried with the towels that smell sharply of the detergent used to make sure they're clean, Tomura is all buttoned up again and Dabi's day clothes are waiting for him along with another soda, bottle of water, and a bottle of Tylenol. He takes the pain meds, downs the water, and dresses. If he goes to report this then it's going to be a long fucking day to start without a lick of sleep. He should have asked for an espresso martini, though he doubts that any of the bartenders are even still here. 

When he's dressed, white t-shirt, leather pants, leather duster, boots, and his backpack with his medicine, heels, and club clothes inside, he figures there's no putting this off anymore. 

"Okay, let's deal with this fuckwit." He says with more bravo than he feels. 

"If anything is too much, you just have to say the word, and I'll deal with it, Dabi." 

"I appreciate that, Shig, but you can only fix so much." 

Tomura doesn't stall anymore and they leave the private rooms, going through the main area of the club. It's not that unusual for Dabi to be leaving after closing, but it's definitely later than he usually leaves. He's never seen the club completely empty, even the janitorial staff having finished for the day and abandoned it. They go out of the main area and into the hallway of red rooms, and Dabi startles to find the second room on the left has been roped off with velvet barriers because the glass is gone. Dabi pauses, staring at that gaping nothing that's letting him see that the room has been thoroughly cleaned and reset even though he doubts anyone will be using it until the glass is back in place. 

"What happened?" He doesn't remember hearing any glass break. 

"I was in the main room when I noticed the commotion. I didn't want to lose time by running around to the back hallway." 

"You broke the window?"

"No," he says, continuing to move down the hall. "That could have sprayed you with glass. I decayed it." 

"You're insane." Dabi barely manages to say through his thick throat. 

"When I took over this club I said I would make it a safe place for everyone who comes to indulge. I'm not about to let one of my staff, one of my best members of staff, get hurt here." They leave the hall and Dabi doesn't know what to say to that, so he chooses to remain silent. 

Tomura takes him down the service elevator, unlocking the buttons that lead to the basement level with a key and Dabi is a little concerned. He didn't know anyone ever went to the basement levels for anything. But once the elevator is moving again, he reaches back for Dabi's hand and laces their fingers together again, bringing them up so that he can press a kiss to Dabi's knuckles. It puts a warmth, a comfort in his stomach that he's never had the luxury of before. They take the long ride down and when the doors open, Dabi finds the winding pipes and cords that he expected of a place that holds the guts of the skyscraper. Tomura coaxes him out into that tangle of piping, and Dabi follows carefully behind, his quirk sitting hotter under his skin. 

He's led around two corners before they reach a doorway that Tomura knocks on once. He hears a couple of locks being thrown and then the door opens-- revealing Jin, who sees him and immediately breaks into a smile. 

"Hey, Dabs, you doing better?" 

"...Yeah." He wants to ask what exactly is going on, but the other man moves out of the way so that they can see into the room and Dabi bristles, smoke getting trapped behind his teeth as he sees Goto, a gag in his mouth, and his arms cuffed behind him with dampeners where he is strapped to a metal chair that's been bolted to the ground. "What--" Tomura pulls him into the room gently with their entwined hands. 

"Like I said before, we can call the police if you want us to. You have a written contract and a lot of eye-witnesses that will prove that he was in violation of that." He lets go of Dabi's hand to go over to Goto. The other is glaring, his teeth bared as much as they can be around his gag, and Dabi notices that part of his arm is gone. The cuffs are hooked above his elbows because on the right side, everything from the forearm down is gone. And Dabi sees a dangerous thing in Tomura's neutral expression as he takes off his glove, resting four fingers against the back of the chair. "Or we can take care of this now." 

"'Take care of' how?" But the coldness already starting in his gut is answer enough. 

"My quirk doesn't leave anything behind for anyone to find. There isn't even DNA in the dust." He doesn't say it outright, but there's no mistaking this proposal for anything but what it is. And immediately Dabi thinks he should be scared. For as gentle and caring as Tomura just was with him, he can and has, apparently, killed people before. He is dangerous. But he is watching Dabi with that tentativeness from before. Trying to make certain, he thinks, that Dabi is alright just like he has all night. "Jin already sent a double on his way with both arms intact. He can go around living his life until he gets hurt and when that happens, there will be nothing to trace it back to you. You'll be safe, Dabi. No matter what." He promises. 

He'll be safe, he thinks, even if they do go to the cops. He'll be safe, have a club full of witnesses, and his contract-- and he knows that they still won't care. Muscular will get a slap on the wrist, if anything, and then the next time he wants to get his rocks off, he'll go find someone else who isn't in a club full of people who care about what happens to each other. He'll find someone desperate, helpless, and alone, and he'll go further than he could with Dabi-- if he hasn't done that already. "...Your quirk works on anything?" 

"As far as I'm aware." He replies evenly. 

Dabi takes a step forward and Tomura waits. Goto glares at him with his one working eye. Looks at Dabi like he can't understand how someone as low as him could possibly warrant anyone bothering to care about what happens to him at all. It makes that shattered thing inside of him sharpen into something with teeth. He reaches for his face, a flame already in hand and grabs on. 

He can't go hot enough to turn his skull to ashes, not without his seam hurting badly, but it is immensely satisfying to hear him screaming around the gag as it melts over his teeth and tongue as his eyeball boils in his skull. He takes a step back when his hand starts to hurt, and Muscular is still thrashing in the chair, letting out muffled screams. 

Tomura lets it go on for a few more seconds before he catches a part of his arm where the fire hasn't spread yet, and holds on. He screams until he crumbles away. When there's nothing on the chair but dust and the air is filled with the lingering, unpleasant scent of burning hair, Tomura steps around the chair, pulling his glove back on deliberately. Jin slips out of the door, though Dabi sees him lingering outside of it. 

"There. He can't ever hurt you, or anyone else again." He starts to move closer and Dabi takes a step back. 

"Red." The word stops the other man in his tracks, hurt flickering across his features. He takes a deliberate step away from Dabi and doesn't come any closer as he finds the rest of his voice. "...You could though," he says, feeling the prickles of anxiety under his skin. Fuck. Fuck, what did he just do? He might have gotten rid of that bastard, but Tomura owns him now. Even more than he already did. 

"I wouldn't. Not ever, Dabi. If you don't want to work here anymore, then you're free to go. If you'd like a letter of recommendation or a referral to any of the other clubs in this area, I'd be happy to provide it. If you want to stop doing private sessions for a while, then that's alright too. If you want, you can put on some classes-- or you can dance if you want. Kenji mentioned that you two have been practicing together. I can be your boss again," and Dabi doesn't expect the way that makes something go sharp behind his ribs. "Or I can be... nothing to you." 

Dabi hesitates, but Tomura keeps his distance and he can't find even the slightest hint of a lie in his eyes. He just sees them sad and worried, the same way they were when he saw how badly he'd been broken. And Dabi wants them warm on him again the way they had been when he'd held his hand as they came. It's probably wrong, probably insane, but Dabi thinks he could be very happy with Tomura, even knowing that he would destroy the world if it hurt him. He hasn't ever had someone who would take care of him. He's certain Tomura will unless he tells him to stop. And.. he knows now that Tomura will stop if he ever tells him to. 

He's the one who crosses the space between them. "I want a week away," he demands breathlessly. "You don't call, you don't check on me, you don't mess with my profile. You let me leave, knowing I could go to the cops." He catches the lapels of his suit, hands hot with barely contained flame. 

"I can do that, firefly. But," Dabi's stomach sinks, "you need to go up and see Atsuhiro to get your pay for the week. I don't want you to leave without it if you decide not to come back." 

Dabi pulls him into a hard kiss.

///

When he comes back to V a week later, his locker is exactly as he left it, and he doesn't see Tomura until he's getting ready for the consultation. He walks in and finds the other holding himself with his spine straight, looking at his tablet with a furrow in his brow. 

"Dabi, welcome back. I'm sorry, I'm having some kind of technical difficulty. Your bookings for tonight aren't showing up on the schedu--" He catches the edge of the tablet and sets it aside before stepping right back into his space like their last kiss was a minute ago and not a week, and gives him another. 

Tomura goes still against him before his hand wraps around the back of Dabi's neck, his other arm going around his waist, and he kisses him back like he's the only thing that matters in the whole world. Like he's trying to tell him that he'll never be broken again. 

"Canceled them. Just want you to take care of me." He breathes when they part. 

Red eyes go surprised before warming. "I will for as long as you'll let me, firefly." Tomura promises. Dabi seals those words between them with another kiss. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, consider leaving a comment!

[in-daddy-price-we-trust]

All I Wanted - Part 1

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence

Part 2

A/N: this is like my first fanfic in a while, and first on tumblr (yay!) any tips and tricks would be so helpful!

this also plans to be a series but posting might and will be inconsistent, thank you in advance!

You always had a difficult life. Being abused by your parents up until you ran away at 13. After you ran away, you got in with the wrong type of people, promises of hope and money, food and validation was all they needed to say to get you hooked in their business of organised crime. Some good came out of it however, they gave you a home and how to defend yourself. They taught you how to shoot a gun and the best place to make someone bleed. They taught you nothing else mattered except them, they became your new family.

You were 15 when you were tasked with transporting a couple crates of weaponry and drugs. The organisation you joined knew you well enough and practically raised you to be the strongest you were. So one cargo ship to Amsterdam later, you find yourself in a rotting, metal warehouse, wearing pink apparel, pink puffy skirt and a white hello-kitty shirt. A baby pink cardigan is draped over your shoulders and over-the-knee white knitted socks. A chrome covered knife strapped to your thigh.

“Zus, how much for it all?” he stood across from you, a cigarette lit between his lips taking a long drag as you assessed his question. His black, slicked back hair elongated his face and the three piece suit almost made this deal professional.

“How much are you offering?” was all you said as a small smile graced your lips, ‘the higher the offer, the better’ you remember being told before you left. They weren’t the best weapons but they were definitely worth at least a couple K.

“25”

a grimace, “80”

a growl, “40”

a hum, “55”

“65. Final offer,” his teeth were bared, almost like he was sweating already.

A sinister, sweet smile stretched across your face, “Wonderful, and how are you wanting to transfer that?” out of seemingly nowhere you pulled out a notepad and pen, writing down the bank details before you gave him a pointed look, “You have one week to transfer the money, or I will have your head.”

His face paled, almost embarrassingly so. For how innocent you appeared to be, you knew how to handle yourself in these situations. You turned to walk away, the sound of baby pink mary janes clacking against the concrete as you bounced towards the rusted metal doors, sliding them open as you looked back at the man one final time, “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” and leaving.

You were good at your job. It was easy, for the most part. Gather intel, pass forward that intel. Transfer somewhat illegal items from one holder to another. So it comes to you as a bit of a surprise when you exit through the dusty doors when a bullet wizzes past your face, luckily just missing you. Swiftly pulling out the hand-gun out your waistband and shooting in their direction. You wish you had your sniper, but it was left in the hotel room you managed to stay at.

As you shot in the direction of the fire, you failed to notice someone sneaking out behind you, kicking your knees in. Dirt caked your socks as the grip on your gun became loose. Acting as quick as possible, you flipped onto your back, retching the knife from its holster. Before you could act, black invaded your vision as you felt pain shoot from your head. Shit.

-

White light invaded your vision, a grumbled swear leaving your dry lips at the pounding in your head. "Jesus Christ," your wrists hurt, rubbed raw by the shitty metal handcuffs they strapped you in, "Whose bedroom did you get these out of? Couldn't even afford good quality cuffs?" fell out of your mouth before you could think to stop it. No one reacted.

It was a van, you could tell that much. The interior white with small wooden benches lining it. Two men sat on either side of you whilst the other two sat across. From what you could make out, another pair sat at the front, driving to this unknown destination.

Maybe you should have been more scared. More begging for them not to hurt you. Four big, burly military men could definitely kill you much easier than you kill them.

They studied you like you studied them. The one on your left was most likely the oldest, a fisherman's hat upon his head and mutton chops-moustache combo was the dead give away. He had his eyes closed and arms crossed across his chest, legs spread wide.

You couldn't make out the one on your right quite as well. A black balaclava with painted white skeletal teeth paired well with the upper half of the skull mask he wore. He seemed to be in a similar position as grandpa, although he had an ankle resting on his knee instead, head tilted back against the cool metal of the van.

The two across from you seemed younger. One had a darker complexion, his eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression. He was smaller than the rest but no doubtfully as strong.

Lastly was the man with a mohawk. His eyes bore into you the most, not so angry and more trying to figure out who you were. Breaking you apart and putting you back together with his eyes. Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. His face morphed into one of slight surprise before rolling his eyes and looking towards the front.

It was quiet. The hum from the light ticking like a clock in your ear. Trying to gauge where you were and how much time had passed, your foot started tapping on the floor.

"Stop," A gruff voice said suddenly making you jump before mumbling a sorry at the skull-faced man. It was quiet again. It numbed your senses, sending shivers down your spine. Gravel sounded under the tires before voices outside sounded, signalling your arrival.

The doors pulled open, sunlight shining in. As mohawk and shorty left, skully pulled your arm to tug you along out with him, a short yelp escaping past your lips at the action.

You tripped over your feet, pins and needles shooting up your legs from sitting for so long. "Can you be gentle?" you spoke as you found your footing, "Please?" it was tacked on at the end for at least the tiniest bit of sympathy.

Skully looked down at you as he continued to drag you towards what you hoped was a five-star hotel with bed and breakfast. At least your death would be a quick one.

The halls blurred together until you were sitting in a leather chair in someone's office, back to the door, although you felt the looming presence of the men behind you. Mutters were heard outside before the door clicked opened, footsteps and a click again.

Gramps stood in front of you, leaning over the dark stained oak table. He had a file in his hand, putting it on the desk before sliding it over to you. "What do you know of El Sin Nombre?" it wasn't as much of a question than you'd like but an order for information.

Your mouth was so dry it felt like you swallowed cotton. As much as you wished to answer him, you look at him with furrowed brows and a confused expression. It took you a couple minutes before words formed in your throat, "Who?".

He didn't enjoy that answer. One of his hands slapping on the desk as he seethed, repeating the question again as if that would change your answer.

"I don't know who that is! I can't help you," you felt that burning sensation under your eyes as you desperately tried to convey your emotions. Tears meant weakness, and that's the one thing you didn't want to show to your captors right now.

Pairs of eyes hammered into your head. You felt like a child again, staring down at your toes being told off for not doing the dishes or not being quick enough to grab a beer. You braced for the hits, the punches to your ribs as you made promises that fell on the deaf ears of your mother and father.

"Price," A voice sounded behind you, soft and comforting. An accent coated the words that flowed through the air you didn't pick up on. The more time passed the more your eyes stung, tears slipping past your defences. Shoulders shaking as you try to curl into yourself, strings of "I don't know" and "I'm sorry" being nothing more than mumbles.

The room grew cold and quiet as you sobbed. Footsteps couldn't be heard over your own cries, so when an arm wrapped around your shoulders, you jolted. Expecting this is where you get hit. Bracing for the impact and sting they usually brought with them.

Instead, the arm pulled you into their chest, hugging you close and stroking your hair, along with shushing you softly. It only made you sob harder. When was the last time someone hugged you like this? Sure, you got the occasional pat on the back for a job well done, but never an embrace like this.

Time passed through your fingers like sand, not knowing how long you sat there for before you calmed down. The arms didn't pull away until you did, cringing at the wet patch you left on the man's shirt. Speaking of, you looked up to see mohawk looking down at you, eyes soft and an equally soft smile. "Y're alright now lass?" his accent leaked into the words, a curt nod allowing him to pull away and stand up again.

A heavy sigh sounded above you as you dragged your eyes up to meet who you presumed was this 'Price' figure. "What’s your name?"

Gears turned over the question in your head, thinking of an answer. Technically, you lost your name when you left home, gaining a couple new names at the gang.

Your silence was taken for an answer. "What are you doing in Amsterdam?" this you could answer.

"A business exchange. I'm just the messenger, I don't know any of the customers - I promise! - I just get the money and dip. I promise I can't help you-" you were hyperventilating at this point.

"It's alright sweetheart, deep breaths, calm down for me, yeah?" Price's voice was gentle now, seemingly not wanting the same thing to happen.

"Can you tell us where you're from? Who you work for?" He asked once he saw you calm down.

"Uhm- I'm from England. And I don't really work for them but I'm a doberman. They're some organisation that took me in," you weren't really interested in going into full depths of your life with these complete strangers.

Although, you felt the gazes lift off you and onto Price, his own eyes looking back at his men, a million silent conversations happening right above your head. Price inhaled sharply before he asked his last question, "How old are?"

"15." The air knocked out of his lungs.

[gkutfdvnn]

It had been quite the summer, some friends of mine had rented some new apartment and we all decided to chip in to wallpaper and paint all the different rooms. Though some of us complained that it was too hard a job and exhausting, I found that it was quite easy. The four rooms were shared between the six of us, first we would do the three bedrooms in groups of two and then the kitchen all together. Luckily I had been paired with Frank, he had already started his own painting business and walked me through every step, taking off the wallpaper before putting the new one with glue. Eventually Dylan, Bryan and Chris whom the apartment belonged to, and Jeff, to had asked for his help, after making sure I could finish alone. Eventually after three days we were all finished wallpapering and painting the bedrooms and decided to take a one day break. Mark complimented me on my work, stating that I had put the wallpaper perfectly on and that the paint looked great, jokingly asking if I would join his business. That's when Bryan and Chris chimed in, suggesting that we could finish the kitchen, against pay of course.

That's how Mark and I ended up doing the kitchen together, I didn't mind the extra money, and he seemed to be used to the job. Since he had already walked me through the different steps we were quick to work, we had plenty of time to hang out and chill. When it came time to pay, Chris suggested he could transfer all the money to Mark, who then could issue me a check. Just wanting to go home I promptly agreed and we left it at that.

That's when to my surprise I received a letter, with my check, through Marks business, stating me as an employee and worker. I sent him a short message explaining the mistake before heading out towards the bus station, leaving for my afternoon classes.

Mark's response came in the middle of the ride, apologizing for the mistake and joking that it wouldn't be so bad to have me as a worker, he then assured me that he would fix the mistake immediately. I laughed through my nose and thanked him, bending myself forward to grab what would have been my bag, except that in its place instead stood a big black gym bag. I looked to my left and to my right, maybe it had slipped to one side or the other while the bus was turning. There were few people sitting around me and my bag was nowhere to be seen. None of them looked like the gym bag could belong to them. That's when I noticed it had my name written on it.

Curiosity got the better of me and I opened the bag. Inside layed some well folded change clothes that seemed a bit too big for me. Some lunch and an axe spray. The smell of fresh paint hit me strong and I had to lift my head up to sneeze. At the same time my feet felt cramped inside my shoes. At first I stretched my legs thinking it would help with the pain. But then it seemed to travel up my calves and into my thighs. My brown shoes bulged and turned softer, lighting up before taking the appearance of beaten and used white sneakers. The shoes appeared slightly bigger yet both my feet seemed to fit perfectly. Next my calves and thighs cramped again. I spread them further apart helping with the pain as I noticed my legs taking a bit more space on my seat. My beige pants became looser and thicker, the texture changing from cotton to synthetic fabric. New thicker seams appeared above my knee and around the growing pockets giving them the same look as those pants Mark wore most of the time. The clean pants were rapidly becoming dirty and used, white splotches and streams of dried paint appeared on the cloth.

I looked around me worrying about what was happening to me, but none of the other passengers seemed to notice or even bother as my whole body changed. I caught my reflection on the windows, my black hair was lighting and gaining a brown hue as it shortened and thinned. More changes happened to my face, my jaw got thicker and my noise pointer and thinner. The blue of my eyes vanished behind a beautiful rich brown as memories of my life were altered. Knowledge about economics, politics and sociology faded while I could remember working for Mark. Tattoos grew on my right arm as both my upper body and biceps grew firm. My hands and finger were wriggling as they grew thick and calloused making it look like I did a lot of manual labor. That's when it hit me. Mark was actually making me one of his employees ! I scrambled for my phone as fast as I could, finding in its place a smaller and older IPhone with earpods, I swiped across the screen and opened my messages as most of my known friends had simply vanished from my contact lists, I couldn't even find the last conversation with Mark. That's when it hit me. He must be the one labelled as "Boss".

I wanted to press on the writing symbol, yet I froze. It didn't make sense for me to write my boss out of the blue, except for emergencies. I closed my phone again and spread my legs apart as I lifted my arms to put them behind my head. A tan complexion washed over my skin as I closed my eyes to listen to the music. All I had to worry about was doing a good job.

[satrs]

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬 II 1

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ᴬ young mother meets a single father, not knowing what that encounter meant for both her and his future.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 2.3k (this will props have a part 2. it 100% will)

Tags; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI. mention of children(obv). Mention of reader smoking. age gap(reader in early 20‘s toji in late 30‘s). nsfw content. fluff. Angst(?). Unprotected sex.

You were at your breaking point.

First, you unexpectedly get pregnant at the young age of 18, not even done with college or anything to be able to take care of an infant.

And then, the father of your child took his legs into hand and run off, the idea of settling down with a child at such a young age was a thorn in his eye.

Here you were, all alone with a child in your belly.

But it will be alright. You’re strong, you would manage.

Even though the pregnancy was unexpected and a shock at first, you were quick to love the child inside of you, despite not knowing it yet.

This reminder always got you going, standing up when you fell. You did this all for the baby, for its well-being. You would try to be the best mother possible for the child, trying to give it everything it needed and desired.

And you were right. You made it. It was a rocky and hard way, but in the end, you managed. And your child was doing perfectly. That’s all that mattered.

You were now 21, your child was already born and the best and most perfect child a mother could ask for. It was a girl, such a sweet one at that, always smiling and beaming out of joy.

But it was still hard. At the age of 21 with a low-paid job like you had, you were trying to make ends meet and tried really hard to provide everything for your 3-year-old daughter.

Even if that meant working overtime and multiple jobs at a time.

And even if that meant working in that shithole you’re currently busy in right now.

You hated working in that bar, your boss being the biggest asshole you‘ve ever met(after the father of your child) by not having any regard for you being a mother, letting you work horrendous hours which leave you so exhausted that you can have little to no time with your daughter.

It would be better to quit but, where should the money come from then? The other jobs didn’t pay you enough, your main source being this.

„Here’s your order sir. Anything else to tend to your needs?“ you earned a quick thank you from the older raven-haired man seated on the barstool, „yes one beer, please. My son should be here any minute now. Those kids are always so damn late.“

You softly laughed at his little rant, earning a light chuckle from the man himself. „Ya should reallyyy think bout it before ya have some kids, pretty girl.“

Your heart thumped in your chest at his sneaky compliment, „Oh I already have one little girl. But luckily she’s not much trouble yet.“

The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise," Wow really? How old?"

"Three. And your son?" "That brat is seventeen now. It gets tough to handle his attitude all by myself, to be honest."

You smile at him out of sympathy, writing down the order he previously wished for. Alone? Is he a single parent like you? A good-looking one at that.

"You're a good lookin momma, you that?", you chuckled at his words and before you could return the compliment, your conversation with the handsome man got disturbed by the shrill sound of your boss's voice.

"You! Get your ass here!“, he shouted out of the door to the staff room, his voice as painful in the ear as nails scratching onto a chalkboard.

You sighed in irritation, biting goodbye to the handsome man and handing his order to another bartender, making your way to the asshole of a boss.

„What?“, you questioned, clearly irritated by his behavior. „Don’t ‚what‘ me. Stop getting all cuddly with my customers and just do your damn job or you can go home to that little rat of a daughter and eat from the trash.“

Your brows frowned in anger, your next words spitting out like venom, „Don’t you dare speak about my daughter like that you fucking bastard.“

„I talk however the fuck I want. I‘m your boss.“

You breathed out a pity laugh at his answer. „Like hell, you are.“ with that, you stomped out of the room, back behind the bar, too furious to notice the older man and his now-present son looking at you in confusion.

Throwing off your apron and throwing it onto the sink, your coworker looked at you in worry. „what’s wrong?“

„That dickhead in there is wrong! I‘m not working in this shithole any longer!“ you shouted, not caring for the eyes of the customers on you. hell- you even wanted them to hear what an asshole your boss was.

At the loud sound of your voice, your boss stepped out, rage visible on his face, as he made his way towards you.“Then get the hell out for all I care! Go and whore yourself out to feed that fucking child!“

„You should watch how you’re talkin‘ to a lady, sir.“

A familiar voice rang in your ear, the dark-haired male placing a hand on the enraged man's shoulder, causing him to shut up on the spot in fear.

You took this as your chance to huff out a pitiful breath at your former boss, stepping out of the bar and throwing on your jacket.

You're doomed. What the hell did you just do? How ridiculously stupid can one be, to quit the job you desperately needed to feed the child you had at home?

You pulled out a cigarette in frustration, searching for your lighter that you desperately tried to find, to no avail. "Fuck."

Your face contoured into an annoyed expression, frustrated that you couldn't even calm yourself with a smoke.

"You shouldn't smoke if you have kids pretty." You turned to the source of the voice, the man you served earlier extending his hand towards you, your lighter in it. The scar on his lip crinkled at the smirk he was flashing you, animating you to take the lighter out of his hand, turning your attention to the cigarette between your lips.

"Like you would care." Your venomous voice caused the man to laugh lowly, leaning himself against the wall right next to you, head turning in your direction, observing you. "I do."

his intense stare didn't bother you but somewhat startled you, causing you to flash him an irritated look. "Do you want something? Can't you read the room and get when someone wants to be alone?"

"Just felt like following ya. You're interesting ya know?" His gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, searching for an answer from you.

you finished your cigarette quickly, huffing out a breath at his answer, throwing the rest of the smoked-out stem to the ground, stomping on it before heading off.

"Need a ride?" He was quick to follow behind your trail, not showing any sign of leaving you so soon. What can he say? You were just the type of woman he would catch himself falling for and since he had a divorce almost 3 years ago, he felt like spicing up his single life a bit. You seemed to be the perfect candidate.

You wanted to turn and snap at him, but as you felt droplets of rain on your face, you figured it wouldn't be a bad idea. You still had some cash on you and would pay for the ride, and even if he would want you to pay for it in a different way, you wouldn`t mind. He was quite an eye-candy if you were being honest.

"What about your son?" He chuckled at that, "He'll be fine. Got here by himself so he can go back himself too." Your gaze was on him for some time before letting out a sigh.

„Alright fine.“

◇─◇──◇─◇

The drive was quiet, the older man sometimes taking a glance at you, making you nervous and looking out the window to escape his seducing gaze. „‚round the next corner right?“, he questioned, eyes fully turning in your direction when he stopped at a red light. The red light illuminated his face, beautiful features now more visible to you, not being able to tear your gaze off of his face.

„Huh?“, you questioned as your eyes flickered from his scar to his eyes, a smirk plastered on his face as he noticed you gawking.

„Your house.“, he said, a teasing smirk still glued to his face. „Oh yea. Right around there.“ He huffed out a small laugh at you, causing you to feel the heat rising up your face as you quickly returned your gaze to the window.

„So where’s yer little one?“, he questioned, quickly earning your attention back. „She’s at a friend's. She always is when I’m working this late.“

He hummed in an understanding manner. „What ‚bout the daddy?“ He was just so curious to know if you were taken or just like him, a single parent.

The empathetic part of him wished for you to have a partner, feeling bad for you to go through such a moment alone, with little to no help. But the other part hoped so desperately for your apartment to be empty and rocking your shit. Or in his car, he would accept both, no need to be picky.

You twisted your fingers, hand nervously brushing the back of your neck, „Not here.“ he noticed that you didn’t really want to talk about this topic, quickly dropping it. So he was right, you were just like him.

But damn did he feel bad for you. He couldn‘t imagine being in your shoes since he didn’t have to raise small Megumi alone, only since he was about 13 years old, a young teen. But you with a small three-year-old? It must be tough.

The car was quiet as he parked in front of your apartment, eyes glancing at your nervous form. You bid out a small thank you, not knowing what else to do. By the looks of it, he would clearly not need any money, if you take his experience car into consideration. Sex? He probably has a wife at home.

„Nahhh don’t say that. My pleasure.“ his smirk motioned you to nervously smile, unsure of what to say. „I don’t get much money but-„ he hushed you, hand placed on top of yours, stopping you from taking out your wallet.

„Nah doll don’t do me like that. You know I can’t take anything from such a pretty one like you.“ Wow so, definitely no wife I guess, you thought to yourself.

„But I can’t just leave, I‘m not like that.“ he looked out the window of your side in thought, an idea coming up his mind as he caught a quick glance of your plush thighs, nervously squished together.

God, he almost took you right then and there. But he had to get his mind straight. „Do ya got beer?“

◇─◇──◇─◇

Yeah sure, he wanted a beer, nothing else. Nonono you’re not getting this right. He didn’t actually plan to be in this position right now, your legs thrown over his shoulder as his cock was deep inside your fluttering cunt- he just wanted a beer, promise!

Oh, who was he trying to fool? He almost jumped out of joy as you offered him to stay at yours for the night since it was kind of late. And when you offered to fuck him with those innocent eyes and teasing voice of yours? Something else down there jumped too.

"Just like that pretty. Give it to me." Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his massive girth filling you up so damn well, mewling as he groaned into your neck. This had to be the best and worst day of your life. Yes, you did get fired but fuck- getting laid after what seemed like forever? A fever dream.

His hand squeezed the fat of your ass, placing a harsh slap at it. "Oh fuck!", you moaned out, head thrown back into the sheets as you felt his pelvic bone grinding against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. "T-this gotta be the best fucking pussy I ever had-fuck! So damn tight." His movements only picked up, leaving you almost completely breathless as your body rubbed up and down along the sheets, your hands clawing at the older man's back, most definitely leaving marks on it.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum.", you stated, biting your lip hard as you felt the odd but familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach, toes curling as you felt a tingle roll down your spine. "Yeah? C'mon, cream all 'round my cock."

His words and the feeling of his tongue flicking your nipple was all it took for you to cum, back arching into his chest and walls fluttering around his length as you subconsciously bucked your hips into his, curses falling from his lips at your action.

"That's right, fuckkk- I'll fill ya up yeah? Sounds good?" he teased, eager to see your reaction, your eyes shot wide open, shaking your head violently no, still coming down from your high. He chuckled at your reaction, "Don't worry pretty, just kiddin'." You relaxed at his words, moans still fleeing your lungs because of the overwhelming feeling of his cock filling you up so well. It's been so long since you had sex, such a good one at that. This might be the best fuck of your entire life.

With a couple more sloppy strokes, he swiftly pulled out of your abused hole, the head was thrown back and Adam's apple throbbed as he released all of his semen all over your thighs and stomach, some even landing on your tits.

He plopped down beside you, the both of you catching your breath, silence filling the once loud room. He broke through the silence, turning his head to look at your exhausted form. "What's your name gorgeous?"

You looked at him confused before wholeheartedly laughing at his question, causing the man to let a sly smirk creep up his lips.

"Y/N.", you said, wiping the tears of joy off your face, now your turn to ask him the same question. "Some call me Daddy and some call me Toji." He shrugged, making you chuckle again.

You moved up to get yourself cleaned up, glancing at the clock as you realized. "Fuck, they'll be here soon-" Just as those words left your mouth the doorbell rang, causing the man to sit up on the bed out of curiosity.

"Shit, shit shit!", you paced around the room, taking a hanky to quickly wipe off the evidence Toji left on you, looking for something to dress up.

Toji was quick to dress up in his boxers and throw on his shirt. "Calm down. It's ya daughter yeah? Ya can dress up in peace, I'll get it."

You looked at him skeptically, unsure if you could trust this stranger you just met today. Before you could decline and get to the door yourself the bell rang again, causing you to panic. "Fuck! Alright go, hurry! Tell my friend I'm upstairs- cleaning! You're the plumber or something."

He moved in the direction of the door after chuckling. "A plumper in boxers?" You groaned in frustration, unable to get out of this situation. You couldn't possibly get the door while you were here, butt booty naked with cum on you. "Just go!"

He was quick to open the door, your friend's and daughter's eyes widening in shock, the unfamiliar face startling them. As he looked at your daughter he noticed how similar she looked to you, the same gorgeous eyes and hair, causing him to flash her a bright smile.

"Hey, little one. Yer momma is upstairs. C'mon, get in." He motioned your friend inside. She flashed a nervous smile, carefully stepping into your apartment with your daughter in her arms.

You never had guys over at your place, especially not older ones like him. What was going on?

You soon came to view, haptically running towards your daughter and taking her in your arm as you placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Hey, baby. Mommy missed you so much!"

She only looked at you confused, causing you to look up at your friend, a similar expression on her face. It was an awkward silence before your daughter's words broke through it,

"Mommy, is that daddy?"

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 7/23/24

i woke up at ass o'clock monday morning to find BOTH of my cats sleeping on the bed with me :') temporary peace and love on planet niceys

also read a book where my takeaway was that there are SO many opportunities in the world for evil engineering but not nearly enough for evil puzzle games

listening

my sister sent me ONE instagram reel/screencap of a tiktok and ive been muttering "emergency! emergency! paging DOCTOR BEAT!" under my breath for the past three days. alarmingly catchy remix of this gloria estefan song. this specific video below is pretty close but there are approximately eight zillion versions

-

reading

Dark Wire by Joseph Cox (photo from here, description from the publisher's site).

The inside story of the largest law-enforcement sting operation ever, in which the FBI made its own tech start-up to wiretap the world, shows how cunning both the authorities and drug traffickers have become, with privacy implications for everyone. In 2018, a powerful app for secure communications called Anom took root among organized criminals. They believed Anom allowed them to conduct business in the shadows. Except for one thing: it was secretly run by the FBI.    Backdoor access to Anom and a series of related investigations granted American, Australian, and European authorities a front-row seat to the underworld. Tens of thousands of criminals worldwide appeared in full view of the same agents they were trying to evade. International smugglers. Money launderers. Hitmen. A sprawling global economy as efficient and interconnected as the legal one. Officers watched drug shipments and murder plots unfold, making arrests without blowing their cover. But, as the FBI started to lose control of Anom, did the agency go too far?   A painstakingly investigated exposé, Dark Wire reveals the true scale and stakes of this unprecedented operation through the agents and crooks who were there. This fly-on-the-wall thriller is a caper for our modern world, where no one can be sure who is listening in. 

i really liked this one! cox did a really good job of slowly unfurling the extremely technical details as they became relevant, instead of one horrible infodump near the beginning, and has a real gift for humanizing little anecdotes that illustrate the concept. he's also dryly funny in a very british way, eg the transition between one paragraph describing a very talented olive oil salesman and his lifestyle to how that olive oil processing covered up drug labs with the sentence "But Catanzariti didn't stay with olives; he pivoted instead to methamphetamine." i loooooove reading about how the drug trade gets around customs. i love edge cases and figuring out why things fail. i truly think some of the finest materials engineers of our time are out there trying to figure out how to get cocaine into australia.

this is deeply reported in a way that's very different from a lot of popsci and pop-history books that annoy me: this is NOT a book where it feels like the author is simply padding out a wikipedia page, supplemented with articles he's already written. he's been on this beat since 2016 and it shows: he has quotes from hundreds of people on many sides of the drug war. something i also appreciate is that cox is not automatically, rabidly pro-cop; he does not gloss over the very real tortures and kidnappings and all the other nasty realities of the global drug trade, and frequently shows how much overreach and entrapment took place during this whole endeavor. i particularly liked a chapter where he flipped back and forth from various law enforcement officials assuring him they of course complied with all relevant privacy laws and blacklisted anyone using it for simple secure communications, and lawyers telling cox "no the cops very much did spy on my privileged communication with my clients and i know this because these texts came up in court". also gratifying to read about some cases overturned or thrown out, in the odd case a judge decided it looked too much like entrapment.

i feel like i devoured this book SO fast but it's a solid 352 pages in hardcover. i also had to wait a good two months on the libby holds lists so there is strong interest in this book! good for cox!

how did i find this book: it's austin underscore walker's fault. they used to be coworkers at vice and cox and three others broke off last year to found 404 Media, which has had an absolutely crazy amount of real-world impact for the size (again! four people!) and how long they've been around. rip vice. wish u did better by your people.

-

watching

watched Hercules (1997, dir. Clements & Musker) with my bestie's five year old. i did not grow up with disney movies and don't really have a nostalgic affinity for them but this shit holds up! i like how meg has the silhouette of a greek vase

-

playing

powerwash simulator has a new free DLC out! we get to go to the aquarium and wash some exhibits and wash the research submarine!!! VERY soothing. took me a good solid two hour podcast episode to clean the exhibits.

the temporary summer event in genshin impact is very darling this year-- there are big indie game vibes and unlocking every chest is a little more complicated or has a little bit more story attached than usual. very excited to see if this continues with the next big update that introduces a whole new land.

i also like that they've picked An Art Style to work with-- everything is very toy-like or origami. not that genshin doesn't have a distinct art style, but playing around with something less realistic is fun!

-

making

look im going to have to add a cross stitch update to the morning reblog. the lighting in here is simply Not Good Enough

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Blue Dream

A mini series

Jacey is Erik’s new weed plug despite their dislike for each other

Warnings: Smut, Enemies To Lovers, Smoking Bi!Erik

The thunderous knock to her apartment door had Jacey taking long strides with her short, thick thighs and booty bouncing behind her. She took a look through her peep hole and quickly morphed the agitation in her features to that of guilt. When she opened her door, her down turned brows and slight pout didn’t get her off the hook. 

“Jacey, I’ve been calling you all damn day. Where have you been? You were supposed to drop by the tent today for the pickup. I had to drag my ass all the way down here to bring you the supply.”

Toni, Jacey’s cultivator and partner to her incarcerated brother, Duke, thrust a Nike duffel bag filled with that good dank— potent and indicating its freshness — before turning to leave. Toni took one final look over his shoulder at Jacey, his once perfectly gelled shiny black hair now a crop of waves atop his head. Jacey surveyed him up and down — body covered in tattoos from his neck down to his ankles — waiting for him to say whatever else he needed to get off his beefy chest.

“C’mon, Toni. Look, I’m sorry, okay? This isn’t all I do to make money. I have a remote job too, remember?” Jacey reminded him with a whine.

“Cariño, you aren’t the only one with a busy schedule. I have to make drops throughout the day on top of making sure the flowers are growing right. Got a new guy who fucked up a batch of wedding crasher.” 

“How did he do that?” Jacey questioned with a frown.

“Powdery Mildew.” Toni replied.

“Shit,” Jacey huffed, “And he’s still working for you?”

Toni gave her a one shoulder shrug, “I got my partner showing him the ropes. Shit’s been in high demand for us growers, Jace. I’ve been putting in double the time.”

Toni’s phone chimed back to back in his pocket, reminding him that he had other places to be. 

“Listen, just let me know in advance if you need a drop off instead of coming to pick it up, okay?”

Jacey nodded her head slowly, “will do. Thanks Toni.” 

“You know I gotchu, bebita. Until next time. Let me know if you like the new exotics.” 

Jacey waved a final goodbye to Toni before shutting her apartment door. She locked it and carried the duffel bag further into the apartment until she was settled in her living room. She made room on her glass coffee table covered in bags of buds and sat the duffel bag in the middle. Unzipping the bag, Jacey was hit with a whiff of the pungent aroma. Banana Cream Pie. a combination of Girl Scout Cookies and Banana OG. The top reported aromas of the Banana Cream Pie strain are lemon, vanilla, and bananas. It is said to taste of bananas and sugary pastries. 

She couldn’t keep her nose out of that duffel bag filled with plastic bags of nugs. The contact high she was receiving was astounding. She was already feeling aroused before Toni stopped by but the effects of Banana Cream Pie had her feeling like she was floating on a vibrational high. Her clit ached for attention and her nipples became stiff peaks. Jacey smiled and wiggled her ass before coming to the surface. She dragged her tongue over her top teeth ecstatically, more than ready to smoke some. She was so enraptured with the duffel bag of exotics that she hadn’t noticed a dainty hand reaching out from behind the couch, popping her on the ass. 

“Who was that, baby?” A melodic voice spoke.

“My grower, Toni. I was supposed to pick up the new supply today and got sidetracked because of YOU.”

Jacey came face to face with her weakness, Marcia. Marcia and Jacey had been together on and off for three years. They knew each other since high school but they didn’t become close until college. Marcia is a lesbian while Jacey is bisexual. She’s also Jacey’s fem dom. Jewel-like, cocoa-brown eyes, skin the color of cinnamon and satiny to the touch, lush lips, and unkempt curls that appeared wind blown with baby hairs. Her long, acrylic french tips sank into the flesh of Jacey’s backside when she reached around to grab her. Jacey gave Marcia a small smile before leaning in for a sloppy kiss. Their heads swayed back and forth, Marcia massaging Jacey’s cheeks from the front. 

Marcia broke her lips away from Jacey’s full ones and her sultry gaze scanned Jacey’s body in a charcoal gray robe that barely fit all her curves, the front of the robe revealing her cleavage and her sternum tattoo of a lotus flower. Jacey bat her hybrid lash extensions at Marcia with a slight bite of her lip. The Banana Cream Pie fragrance circulated their personal space and Marcia couldn’t help but to lick her lips. 

“Toni? And you answered the door like this?” Marcia palmed Jacey’s ass harder, “what I tell you about that shit, huh?”

“He was banging all loud, what did you expect me to do?” Jacey quipped with a defiant roll of her eyes. 

Marcia clicked her tongue, “I bet he was looking. Don’t do that again, Jace…or I’m a bring out Miss Boss and you know what happens when I do that.”

Jacey fixed her face with an innocent smile, “you say that like I don’t want it.”

Marcia popped Jacey on the ass and wrapped a hand around her slender throat. Jacey’s breath hitched and she let out a shaky breath when Marcia’s braless breasts in a thin, white baby tee pressed against hers. 

“Such a fuckin’ brat…Now, show me what he dropped off that was so important,” Marcia let go of Jacey and her eyes fell towards the duffel bag.

“look,” Jacey reached in the bag, unraveling one of the plastic bags, the tips of her fingers securing a nug. She brought it up to Marcia’s nose, the multiple shades of green of her french tips contrasting beautifully with the bud between her pointer finger and thumb. Marcia inhaled deeply and then her eyes rolled shut. 

“Damn, what strain is that?” Marcia asked with low, wanton eyes.

“Banana Cream Pie. Aren’t you happy that your girlfriend is a weed plug?” Jacey boasted.

“Let’s smoke some of that good shit now,” Marcia reached for Jacey’s gold rolling tray and matching grinder. She grabbed a few raw cones and started making blunts for her and Jacey, “My mouth is watering to try this!”

Jacey took off her robe and she sat next to Marcia wearing a pair of Abercrombie & Fitch light gray boxer briefs and nothing up top; perky breasts with pierced nipples on display. Marcia reached for her yellow Backwoods lighter and sparked both of their blunts. Jacey watched as Marcia inhaled slowly, holding in the smoke for a second then gently exhaling the smoke from between her glossy lips. 

“Wow,” Marcia said, smoke constantly billowing from mouth, “it tastes like…like a pastry.”

Jacey wrapped her lips around the end of the blunt and inhaled. She held in the smoke for a few seconds and exhaled through her nose. She allowed her saliva to coat her tongue, remembering the flavor of Banana Cream Pie. Jacey took a few more tokes of her joint before giving her own personal review.

“And here I thought Pineapple Kush was my favorite. It’s right up there,” Jacey took another drag, “Yep…yep…this the one. Toni did that.” 

“Thank you papi! ” Marcia said.

They both giggled. 

“…is it just me, or is this weed making my pussy wet?” Marcia asked.

“Pussy is making a wet spot right now, no doubt.” Jacey said with a flirty wink.

“To be honest, all weed makes me feel like that. You?”

“Nah,” Jacey shakes her head, “depends on the strain for me.”

Marcia and Jacey sat in silence enjoying their blunts for five more minutes before ashing it out to take a break. Jacey turned on the couch to face Marcia, her head resting in the crook of her elbow and her eyes low from the effects of the hybrid strain. She wouldn’t be a good weed plug if she didn’t test the merchandise herself before selling. Soon, she’ll post pictures and facts about the new strain to her Twitter and Instagram for her customers. 

Being a weed plug was never Jacey’s plan, but she aspires to be an Herbalist one day, so she made it her business to know everything about weed. Duke didn’t hesitate to teach her everything she needed to know, she even shadowed Toni at his growing tent to see first hand how the process works. It was fascinating to her. She gained a lot of respect for weed growers after that. The knowledge and skill it takes to make a beautiful flower before curing it is miraculous. 

Jacey was born and raised in Oakland, CA. She grew up in Rockridge, east of Telegraph Avenue, south of the Berkeley city limits, west of the Oakland hills and north of the intersection of Pleasant Valley Avenue/51st Street and Broadway. She works from home during the day as a proofreader for Sodexo and took a break from college when she decided to take over her brother’s business. He only trusted her to oversee things. 

When Duke got booked on illegal gun possession, Jacey knew that she would have to take over for her brother to keep the business flourishing. He was known to be one of the best, if not number one, weed plugs in CA. Her brother had people traveling from Houston, Detroit, Vegas, Washington, Florida, New York, and many other places to buy from him. He was going to school to be a Chemist while raising four kids and being a full-time weed plug. Ten years. It hurt Jacey to see her brother in prison. He had already served two years, and she hoped that his appeal would be granted. 

“What are you thinking about over there?” Marcia asked.

“Nothing important.” Jacey said. 

“When you lie, you look off to the side like this,” Marcia’s cocoa-brown eyes flicked to her left and Jacey’s right, demonstrating what Jacey had just done, “So tell me the truth.” 

Jacey’s nose crinkled in agitation, “Fine. Just thinking about Duke. I went to see my nieces yesterday, and Bella, the mother of his four kids, she’s down bad, Marcia.” 

Marcia sat up, leaning forward to grab her blunt again. 

“Down bad how?” She questioned.

“She’s pregnant, Marcia. And we both know it ain’t Duke’s baby. I told him not to get mixed up with her. It doesn’t do good tryna hide who you really are…”

Marcia lit Jacey’s blunt for her again. The orange embers reflected in Jacey’s dark brown eyes with how close she was. 

“So, you’re saying that Duke only stayed with Bella to keep his other life a secret?” 

“Yeah,” Jacey looked across at Marcia solemnly, “And she made him. She said that if he ever left her, she would out him. But look what she’s doing! She’s messing around on my brother while he’s in prison!” 

“You should tell him about it, Jace.” 

Jacey shakes her head, faux locs falling over her shoulder, “I can’t. That would crush him. He doesn't need that right now. I talked to Bella and I told her that she needs to tell him.” 

Marcia starts laughing, coughing a little from the smoke, “If she wanted to tell him by now I’m sure she would.”

“Whatever,” Jacey ashes out her blunt, standing from the couch, “Let me get back into a better mood…with you.” 

Marcia chuckled, “And what does that entail, Jace?”

Jacey stood in front of Marcia, hands on her hips and a defiant glint in her dark brown eyes. Marcia smirked at her, unable to focus too long on her face when her breasts were right above her so mouthwatering. 

“I feel like…I could use something to make me feel better…this weed has me so turned on…can you help me with that, baby?”

Marcia dragged her top teeth across her bottom lip.

“Hmm…you have to be more specific. What EXACTLY is it you want from me, Princess?”

“Well,” Jacey straddled Marcia, taking her weed from between her fingers, placing it on the ashtray, “I think Miss Boss can take care of me.” 

Marcia couldn’t hold back her laughter. Jacey joined her, both women too giggly and high. Marcia reached for Jacey’s chin, pinching it before leaning in to drag the length of her curved tongue over her lips. Jacey’s motor skills were slow from being high, but the heat radiating from between her legs was astounding. 

“Feel it,” Jacey took Marcia’s left hand in hers, placing her open palm between her legs so she could cup her pussy, “It’s so hot and wet…fuck…this weed got me too far gone…you feel that?”

“Mmm,” Marcia hummed in Jacey’s ear, “Your pussy is so fuckin’ warm. It’s nothing compared to my pussy though.” 

Jacey elevated a brow sassily at Marcia, “Teh, I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

Marcia challenged her words with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Get up and go to the room so I can show you.”

Jacey beamed excitedly. She untangled her generous thighs from around Marcia’s waist to stand and as soon as she did, her foot got caught on the glass coffee table and she tripped, almost falling on her butt. Marcia broke out into a fit of laughter, one hand cupping her mouth and the other slapping the couch cushion. Jacey righted herself and gave Marcia the finger.

“When trying to be sexy goes wrong!” Marcia said with a faux deep voice. 

“Bitch, shut up!” Jacey shouted while inspecting her foot. 

Jacey walked away with Marcia on her heels, giggling. Finally in the bedroom, Jacey climbed onto her all white platform bed with white bedding, lying back against the pillows. Marcia crawled onto the bed seductively before climbing on top of Jacey. They both felt light-limbed and euphoric, staring as if they were seeing each other for the first time. Jacey’s right hand pressed against Marcia’s left cheek, her thumb rubbing softly over the slight dimple there. 

“Who do you belong to?” Marcia whispered seductively.

“…You,” Jacey replied with a rasp in her sultry voice. 

Marcia stole a kiss, her tongue meeting Jacey’s in a sort of tango. Their glossy lips shimmered with spit and molded perfectly as their lips smacked. Sucking tongues, bottom lips, and nibbling. Jacey’s hands were in Marcia’s wild mane and Marcia was dragging her hands up and down Jacey’s hips. Jacey’s legs came up to wrap around Marcia’s waist and she thrust her nude chest into hers, her pierced nipples brushing across Marcia’s. An airy whimper escaped her mouth and Marcia reluctantly pulled her lips away from Jacey’s so she could look down at her. 

Marcia sat back on her knees and without a word she went to work removing Jacey’s briefs. Jacey elevated her hips and wiggled so Marcia could successfully take them off. As soon as they were past her feet, Marcia tossed them to the other side of the king bed before parting Jacey’s thighs. There was no point in waiting, she needed to see that hot, sticky pussy for herself. A hiss escaped her mouth when Jacey’s fat pussy void of hair and glistening met her lust filled eyes. 

If only her eyes could be for Jacey and Jacey alone. They’d been through this many times before. Things would be amazing between them and then Marcia would fuck it up because she couldn’t have just one woman in her life. Jacey was her weakness. And she knew Jacey also felt the same, because if she didn’t she wouldn’t be here with her right now. Marcia tried to shake those thoughts from her head so she could focus on the pussy in front of her. She didn’t even have to spread her puffy lips to see how wet Jacey is for her. 

“Your pussy is always so gushy for me, mami,” Marcia whispered with a sexy lilt.

“Stop talking and taste me,” Jacey looked Marcia directly in the eye.

“I can’t appreciate my meal first before I eat it?” Marcia replied with a playful voice. 

“Not when my clit is throbbing like this!” Jacey said. 

“Okay, brat, since you want it so badly, don’t run from this tongue.” Marcia commanded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jacey said with a wink.

Jacey spread her thighs further, and that’s when Marcia could see how swollen her clit had gotten. Her vertical clit piercing was covered in her arousal and Marcia’s tongue ached to lick it clean. With her thumb, Marcia rubbed between her inner lips and up to her clit, back and forth. With her piercing, Jacey is more sensitive there, and her inner thighs quaked with each swipe of her thumb. 

“Oooh, baby,” Jacey called out with a melodic voice.

 It didn’t take much to get her off if you knew how to please her. Jacey loved a lot of eye contact and nasty talk. Combine all three of those and Jacey would be putty in your hands. Marcia locked her eyes on Jacey’s bewitching one’s and told her how beautiful her pussy is. Jacey did that pout with her lips that made Marcia weak and next thing she was tonguing Jacey’s juicy folds. She gathered spit on the tip of her tongue and started off slow, warming Jacey up to the amount of orgasms she would be receiving. 

“Fuuck, just like that, baby,” Jacey smoothed Marcia’s hair from her face so she could watch, “Right there…stay on that clit…fuck.” 

“Mhm,” Marcia hummed while continuing to lick Jacey’s pussy. 

She didn’t even have to speak. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. The taste of her pussy had her tongue salivating beyond normalcy. The scent of her pheromones had an effect on her that she could feel in her own pussy. It was a work of art on its own. Marcia looked up between Jacey’s legs at her face and she’s pinching her nipples and nibbling on her sexy full lips. Marcia felt her body jerk from just looking at her. 

She spread Jacey’s outer folds more so she could get to her clit better. With her plump lips, Marcia trapped Jacey’s jeweled clit between her lips and began sucking. One of her hands came down to secure Marcia’s head between her thighs. Her hips started whining and grinding off of the bed to feed Marcia some more pussy. Marcia forcefully pushed Jacey’s thighs back and inserted two fingers into her now creamy pussy. Her pussy began making all the right noises and both of them moaned. 

“Fuck, you’re on my spot, shit,” Jacey yanked Marcia by the hair, “got my pussy so creamy, baby.” 

They locked eyes while Marcia pushed Jacey over the edge. She thrust her hips forward and with one final jerk of her hips, Jacey’s body went stiff and the meat of her inner thighs shook with intensity. Her moans were deep and intensified, unable to have any control over her body. Marcia finally released her clit with a wet pop and gently slipped her cum covered fingers from her warm, wet hole. 

“Damn, Marcia.” Jacey breathed out.

She sat up on her elbows to look at the mess she made all on her white sheets. A small puddle sat beneath her butt and her cum continued to trickle from her opening. Jacey gathered some of her essence on her finger and brought it to her mouth, sucking it off with a moan of pleasure. Marcia sat back on her elbows in front of Jacey’s open thighs and began taking off her teal green cotton panties. Jacey watched her, noticing a wet strip on the crotch of her panties. Marcia’s pussy lips swallowed the crotch and when she peeled them away to reveal her lower lips, sticky arousal connected to the panties. 

Jacey’s mouth parted slightly. Marcia gave Jacey a teasing wink while licking her own wetness from her panties. She tossed her panties over the edge of the bed and spread her thighs more, scooting as close as she could to Jacey so their pussy could be ‘face to face’. While Jacey’s outer lips and inner folds are more on the plumper side, Marcia’s is smaller; more delicate, with a tiny bud. Her inner lips were engorged and darker in color because of how turned on she is. She had a little triangle patch of jet black curls right above her outer lips but the rest was bare. 

They both explored each other's pussies; rubbing, tracing, and flicking with aroused curiosity. Whenever their low eyes would connect, they would lick their lips and whimper. Jacey dragged her nails through Marcia’s small patch of pubic hair and Marcia lightly stroked Jacey’s clit with her thumb. She increased the pace of her thumb on Jacey’s sensitive bud and gasped when she began to squirt, the juices landing on her vulva. 

“You know my pussy so well, baby,” Jacey spoke softly.

“And you know how to be such a good girl for me,” Marcia forced Jacey’s legs back before climbing on top of her, lining her pussy up perfectly with hers, “Time to bump coochies!”

Their giggles turned into cries of ecstasy when Marcia began to grind, whine, rotate, and thrust her hips at the right angle to make sure their clits collided. It was a wet, slippery dance that created music within the room. Sweat collected on Jacey’s abdomen, surrounding her belly button. Marcia’s back was covered in her own perspiration and it made the canvas tattooed on her skin more vivid. The pleasant musk of their scent made Jacey’s mouth water. 

“Oooh! Yes!” Marcia cried out.

“Are you gonna cum on this pussy, Marcia?” Jacey said, “Cum on my pussy, yes, just like that, right on my clit.” 

“fuuuck!” Marcia lowered her head to kiss Jacey and not once did she stop humping her pussy against Jacey’s. 

“I wish I could see how good this looks! Damn!” Marcia shouted, “Damn, bitch, you’re pussy is so fuckin’ juicy!”

“You’re making me cum again, baby…fuck, oh, shit,” Jacey’s thighs quaked, “Right there, right there, right there— Unh! Ah!”

Marcia grabbed a hold of one of Jacey’s titties and fought through the feeling of her body succumbing to her own climax. Marcia moved her hips in a circle and then lifted her hips to bounce her pussy against Jacey’s. Both of their juices made raunchy noises and the feeling of Jacey’s clit stroking Marcia’s from that angle led to both of them climaxing together. Their tacky skin clung to each other when Marcia collapsed on top of Jacey’s heated body. 

“I’m not finished with you yet,” Marcia spoke with a hushed tone, her warm breath tickling Jacey’s ear.

“Time to bring out Miss Boss,” Jacey said, still trying to catch her breath. 

Marcia fought to lift her body and she almost fell over again when Jacey’s fingers slid between them to rub on her drenched folds. She then inserted one finger, moving it around, creating a wet noise before removing her finger to taste. Marcia watched her with parted lips as she sucked her juices off. 

“Mmm…so good,” Jacey moaned. 

Marcia climbed out of bed and walked over to Jacey’s dresser. She opened the top left drawer and after moving some of her lingerie to the side, she found Miss Boss. The eight inch, purple crystal jelly dildo with realistic textured veins the dildo is attached to a pink harness by an o-ring. Marcia retrieved the strap-on and began securing it around her curvy waist and thick thighs. Jacey opened her side table drawer and grabbed some lube. 

Marcia took her position behind Jacey, fixing her arch and watching her cheeks bounce on the tip of the dildo. After lubing up the entire dildo, Marcia tossed the bottle to the side and without any more time wasted, she pressed the wide tip of the dildo against Jacey’s anxiously waiting canal and slid in with ease. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Jacey’s lips wrapped around the shaft of the dildo and the way her clit looked poked out from behind had Marcia groaning. Her pink and white ombré acrylics sank into Jacey’s booty meat for leverage so she could dig into her pussy deeper.

“Cream all over this dick,” Marcia commanded.

Jacey replied with a moan before throwing her pussy back onto the strap. Marcia slapped her ass each time she went low, praising her for taking the dick so well.

“That’s it…give me that pussy, bitch.” 

Jacey bit her lip and scrunched up her face. 

Her cream added more slickness for a better fuck. Marcia grabbed Jacey by the hips and went to pound town. Jacey’s ass cheeks jiggled out of control and her pussy leaked onto the sheets. Titties bouncing, asses shaking, and their sweet moans was a sight to witness. 

“I fuck you better than any nigga ever will, huh?!” 

“Yes! Oh, yes!” Jacey looked back at Marcia.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” Marcia rotated her hips, hitting Jacey’s pussy from a different angle, “That dick hittin’ the bottom of your pussy, slut?”

“Yes mami!” Jacey cried out, eyes tearing up.

Marcia continued pumping Jacey full with Miss Boss, making sure that she felt every inch to remind her who she belonged to. Jacey arched her back more like a good slut and gripped the sheets. She wasn’t running from that strap, and Marcia smirked smugly at that revelation. 

“Shit, I can’t hold it!” Jacey shouted while squirting all over the dildo.

“You tryna keep it away from me? While I fuck you like this?” Marcia questioned.

“Mami, it’s so big and it’s hitting my spot,” Jacey whined. 

“Don’t act scared now, baby. Whenever I bring Miss Boss out, you know what time it is,” Marcia popped Jacey on the ass hard, “Now fuck me back!”

Jacey sat up on her hands and made that ass move like it had a mind of its own. She tossed her pussy back on all eight inches of Miss Boss like she was the boss. Marcia cupped her breasts and thumbed her hard nipples. Jacey took it up a notch and reached back to hold her cheeks open. Marcia took her thumb and rubbed her booty hole before sinking into the tight hole. 

“FUCK.” Jacey slowed down her hips into a slow grind and more creamy goodness coated the veiny shaft. 

“I could cum right now from the way you look,” Marcia said.

“Cum for me, mami,” Jacey spoke seductively.

The friction of the strap hitting Marcia’s clit whenever Jacey bounced back was bringing her to a release. Marcia held onto Jacey’s shoulders and met her hips, the smacking growing louder and louder. 

“Yeah, make this pussy cum, oooh!” 

Jacey’s body seized up and her face smashed into the pillow, her cries and pleads muffled. Marcia lost control and one hand came around to grip Jacey by the neck as her entire body convulsed. The dildo sank deeper into Jacey’s pussy and with one final tug on the dildo, a stream of sticky liquid released all over the bed.

“Look at all this mess,” Marcia admired Jacey’s cream on the dildo and the large wet spot.

“Let me see your pussy,” Jacey turned around on her knees with lustful  eyes. 

Marcia removed the strap-on and crawled next to Jacey to lay on her back. Jacey settled between Marcia’s legs and spread her thighs apart. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Marcia’s slick pinkness and smooth brown outer lips. The further apart her thighs went, the more open her slit became and the more Jacey could see. Jacey’s clit ached at the sight of Marcia’s pretty pussy. Jacey arched her back and pressed her lips onto Marcia’s folds, smothering her with licks, sucks, and kisses. Marcia cried out and clutched for Jacey’s hair. 

“The taste of your pussy on my tongue is driving me crazy, baby,” Jacey whispered.

Marcia forced Jacey’s mouth back on her pussy and she cried out when she began sucking on her clit.

“Shit, Jacey, Fuuck,” Marcia threw her head back, eyes shut tight.

Jacey looked up at Marcia and watched her face contort into a defeated expression. Her hips rolled like she was moving her hips to a slow, freaky beat. Jacey followed her every move, sucking and licking her folds from top to bottom. 

“Keep that pussy in my mouth,” Jacey commanded.

“Marcia brought one of her titties to her mouth and sucked on her own nipple. She raised her hips from the bed and force fed Jacey the juiciest, creamiest pussy. 

“I’m making that pussy cum, Hm?” 

Marcia’s mouth fell open with a silent plea for more. Jacey wrapped her lips around Marcia’s tasty folds and sucked to her heart’s content. Marcia’s eyes rolled shut and her toes curled. 

“It’s coming…it’s coming, oh, fuck,” Marcia pinched and rolled her nipples, “fuck, you’re right on my clit!”

With the intense pleasure, Marcia came in Jacey’s mouth and some of her release slid down her throat. Jacey dragged her tongue between Marcia’s  folds and up to her clit, cleaning her off. Marcia’s head collapsed on the fluffy white pillow behind her, ragged breaths escaping her mouth. Jacey came up for air, wiping the side of her mouth to clean up some of Marcia’s cum. 

They both leaned in for a kiss. Marcia cupped Jacey’s chin and poked her tongue out. They touched tongues and then their lips collided with sloppy desperation. Jacey broke the kiss to stare at Marcia’s lips and then her eyes dragged up to meet her lascivious eyes. 

Six Months Later: 

Temptation. That’s what Erik is to Clayton, that’s what Erik has always been to him. A long distance relationship sadly withered away like ashes from a decaying corpse. To see him in person again overwhelmed him, but also saddened him. He knew they could never be again, and yet the way he stared at him made him weak all over again. Firstly, Erik has a reputation for being a man slag, and Clayton knew that Erik wouldn’t stay loyal for long with him being on the other side of the country. While he was getting bussy in Michigan, Clayton was doing his own thing too. 

Clayton was tempted to punch that fine man in the face for making him feel this way. He watched Erik from his porch lock up his all white Acura MDX, and with a gait that would make any man or woman weak, he strolled over to Clayton’s town home, dressed to impress with sneakers fresh out of the box. In the back of Clayton’s mind, he can hear his family telling him to leave Erik alone. But how could he when his fluffy lips felt so right against his? 

“You miss me, Clay?” Erik whispered.

Clayton’s eyes combed over Erik from head to toe. He loved the tapered locs and the temp fade; very stylish. He wore a cream-colored hoodie and black jeans that hung low in the crotch but tight at the ankles. The diamond studs in his ears matched the diamond tennis necklace around his neck. Erik only dressed up like this to throw Clayton off, make him fall for his seduction. 

“Yeah,” Clayton cleared his throat, “Do you miss me?”

“Do I?” Erik digs his fingers into Clayton’s waist to pull him close and then goes right for the gold, his hand reaching down between his legs. 

“E,” Clayton created space between them, “I’m glad you stopped by but…we can’t do this.” 

Erik elevated a single brow before licking his lips. His eyes roamed from Clayton’s freshly cut glossy black hair, to his full, moist lips, then down to the fitted white beater he wore and the light gray Nike joggers that left nothing to the imagination. He already knew what time it was, why was he acting brand new? 

“So, why did you agree to see me then, Clay?” Erik questioned. 

Clayton turned to open his door, waiting for Erik to enter. Erik gave him a lingering stare before stepping inside. Clayton shut the door to his new townhome, leading Erik inside to the living room. It was nice and cozy. Erik joined Clayton on a black leather sectional that sat facing a wall mounted fireplace with a 72-inch television mounted above it. 

“I haven’t seen you in almost a year, Erik. I’m not going to lie…I did want us to rekindle what we used to have…but it’s best we remain friends.”

Erik sensed how anxious Clayton was and the way he avoided his eyes told him everything he needed to know. Erik didn’t expect for him and Clayton to pick up where they left off, it was too late for that. They were in different directions now. Clayton is seeing someone new, a guy he met online. Erik is single and not looking for anything serious. Clayton was his last serious relationship. He just wanted to start over— new job, new crib, new whip, and a new weed plug. 

“You ain’t gotta explain yourself, bruh. I get it,” Erik rubbed at his nose, a habit of his when he was in an awkward situation, “So, how have you been?”

Clayton chuckled, “Decent. I mended my relationship with my father. Started dating this really nice guy. Too bad I never have time to go see him working two jobs.” 

“Damn, that gotta be tough,” Erik’s eyes landed on Clayton’s lap, “I’m sure he understands.” 

“Yeah…so how’s the new job?”

“I like it. Can’t complain.” Erik said.

“Software engineering, right? You were always tech savvy.” 

“Yep, it’s always great making money doing what you love.” 

Clayton nodded his head, turning away from Erik so he wouldn’t meet his eyes, “Want something to drink?”

Clayton stood from the sofa and headed towards his kitchen. Erik followed him, hands in his pockets and eyes on Clayton’s back muscles and tight ass. 

“Whatchu got?” Erik leaned his elbows on Clayton’s kitchen island. 

“Iced tea, alkaline water, orange juice, something stronger.”

I’ll take some wine if you got it. I don’t need nothin’ too strong, gotta get home in one piece.” 

Clayton laughs, “Since when do you care about that?”

“I’m gettin’ old, Clay. I can’t hang like I used to.” 

Clayton grabbed a bottle of white wine from his countertop and then two glasses from a cabinet. He poured their wine and handed Erik a glass. 

“Too much partying in Boston?” Clayton inquired.

“Way too much,” Erik took a sip of his wine.

“Sounds like you had a good time,” Clayton avoided Erik’s gaze.

“I did…listen, Clay, I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I wish it could have worked out…”

“All good, that shits in the past.” 

Clayton finished his glass and grabbed the bottle, leaving the kitchen. Erik met him back in the living room, kicking off his A1’s. He wouldn’t be able to get through this night on wine alone. He needed his weed and too bad he has the lousiest plug. Erik was expecting to get his dick sucked by the best to ever do it. None of the dudes or chicks in Michigan got a deep throat like Clayton. The thought alone had his dick brick hard. 

“Is it really? Or are you just saying that to avoid talking about it?” Erik questioned.

Clayton couldn’t hide his smile. Those lips.

“Why talk about it? What does it matter, E?”

Erik shrugs, “Because you’re mad tense right now. Like you can’t function around me without doing something reckless…”

Clay tilted his head in thought.

“I’m right. Listen, let’s be honest. You invited me here because you wanted one last taste, am I right?”

“…and it was a mistake,” Clayton shakes his head, “I don’t know why I can’t get over you. I figured if I have you one last time, we can be done with this.”

Erik smiled, “Clay, you know who you’re talkin’ to right now?”

Clayton finally met Erik’s eyes. 

“You ain’t done. Stop bullshittin’.”

“I am, E.” Clayton replied sternly.

“Who you tryin’ to convince? Your new boy toy ain’t enough to get your mind off of me.” 

Clayton shakes his head. 

“If you want it one last time, I’ll give it to you one last time.”

Erik grabbed Clayton’s wine glass and sat it on the table. He gently cupped Clayton’s chin, forcing his light brown eyes to meet his onyx ones. 

“…And I’ll make sure you never forget.” Erik whispered.

Enticement. That’s what Erik is to Clayton. That’s what  Erik has always been to Clayton, it’s just in a much different form now. Erik had hurt him, and he told himself that he wouldn’t go backwards, but when he’d gotten an unexpected call from him a few months prior, old feelings that he’d locked down came seeping through the cracks like a ghostly whisper. While Clayton should be tempted to punch Erik in the face, he couldn’t help but reminisce on the way his lips felt or how good he smelled. 

Erik turned his body causing the leather to creak beneath him, facing Clayton now. His wine glass was empty and Clayton could smell the moscato on his breath. His tapered locs fell over his unkempt brows giving him more of a wilder look. Clayton’s eyes disobeyed him and he glanced down at Erik’s succulent mouth and the way his slick, pink tongue swiped his bottom lip. 

Fuck it. 

Clayton closed the space between them and started sucking on Erik’s tongue. Erik felt blood surge south and he couldn’t help but let go of a shameless moan into the lust laded lip lock. The kiss increased in sloppiness and intensity, both of their hands fisting each other’s shirts and squeezing biceps. Erik digs his fingers into Clayton’s waist to pull him close and then goes right for the gold, his hands dipping past the waistband of his joggers to find his entrance, toying with it while he deepens the kiss. He teased his hole with his finger, causing Clayton to moan. 

“That ass is still tight,” Erik declared with a groan, “I can’t wait to get in that.” 

Clayton looked hesitant for a second but Erik’s finger rubbing his tight hole had him anticipating being bent over and dug out. 

“You know what I miss, Clay. Give me that sweet mouth, Clay…come on…show me you’re still my number one head doctor.”

Clayton’s lips hovered over Erik’s when he reached between them to rub his print. He took it up a notch and unzipped his jeans, reaching inside to pull his length out, stroking him in his hand as his tongue licks deep into his exes mouth. 

Erik’s dick swelled in Clayton’s hand, growing until it can’t anymore, but throbs against his slow stroking fingers as if it wants to. Erik began grinding his hips while pressing his finger right past the restrictive ring of tight muscle, wishing it was his tongue opening up Clayton’s saporous entrance. Erik got all the way down to the knuckle inside of him. 

While Erik’s lips were smothering Clayton’s neck with kisses, Clayton’s eyes were glued to the dick that was once his. It’s still just as beautiful as before. Perfect from the tip down to the heavy balls that Clayton loved to play with. A deep grunt escaped Erik’s mouth when Clayton started stroking the head of Erik’s dick with his thumb. He spread his pre-cum all over the bulbous head and felt Erik twitch in his hand. 

“You knew you wanted this again…Look at you…doing it exactly how you used to…you ain’t forget how to please daddy…”

“How could I forget when you’re the best I ever had?” Clayton whispered wantonly.

Clayton used his free hand to push Erik’s hoodie up, revealing his torso. Clayton eagerly drinks him in with his eyes. Erik had naturally oozing sex appeal. His body is ridiculously chiseled with smooth skin pulled tautly over muscles. Looking at those arms brought back memories of when Erik would easily lift him up and sit him on the edge of any nearby surface had him swooning, his own dick hard and throbbing. 

Erik removed his finger from Clayton’s ass to take off his shirt. Clayton watched with awe as Erik seductively peeled away his hoodie. He began peppering kisses all over Erik’s throat and down to his chest before licking his brown nipples. Erik hissed, his dick throbbing out of control in Clayton’s grip. He wanted that mouth. With his bottom lip between his teeth, Erik did what he used to. He brought one hand up to the base of Clayton’s head and began massaging him there with his fingertips before dragging his fingers down to his neck and back up again. Clayton got the hint and began to drag his kisses over Erik’s abs until he was on his knees between his legs. 

“You gon’ suck me good, Clay?” Erik questioned.

“Yes, daddy,” Clayton said.

“Daddy? I’m still daddy?”

Clayton gave Erik a look that caused him to chuckle.

“Don’t let your new man find that out. You think about me when he fuckin’ that ass, Clay?”

Clayton replied with his mouth sinking lower onto Erik’s dick. Erik thrust his head back and moaned. Clayton used his jaw muscles, tongue, and lips to suck Erik’s 9 inches deep. Working that neck, he would twist his mouth on the uptake, making sure to suck longer on his fat tip. Erik kept his gaze on Clayton no matter how low his eyes were. You’d think he was high by the way his eyes looked. His puffy lips were parted, and he couldn’t stop licking his lips. 

“You showing out, boy,” Erik said, “You suck other dicks like this while I was away, Clay? Don’t lie to me…”

Clayton’s lips popped off Erik’s dick, “I tried, but ain’t no dick like yours.”

“Damn,” Erik sucked his bottom lip into his mouth when Clayton started sucking on his nut sack, “You know that’s gon’ earn you a big nut down your long fuckin’ throat right, nigga?”

“Give it to me,” Clayton spoke between sucks, “Give me that tasty nut.”

“I’ll paint that pretty chocolate face.” Erik said. 

Clayton’s tongue swiped up the base of Erik’s shaft until his lips found Erik’s tip again. Erik brought his palm to the back of Clayton’s head and forced his head down over his dick, guiding him with one hand while his other hand was occupied with playing with his nipples. The guck guck and tight lips had Erik’s eyes crossed. He missed this. Sloppy top. Not one man or woman back in Boston did it like Clayton. He was convinced he’d never find another person to top him. 

“Clay, suck that shit,” Erik’s hips rose from the sofa so he could pump Clayton’s mouth. His teeth sank into his bottom lip hard and he watched with lustrous eyes while Clayton gagged and gobbled him up. 

“Fuck.” Erik thrust his head back, “Here it comes—”

Erik rolled his hips, working his dick in and out of Clayton’s mouth with all his might, body seizing up with his own climax. Clayton knew to stay on that dick. He swallowed it all and left Erik speechless. Dick still solid, Erik wasn’t finished. He raised his hips and pushed his briefs and his jeans off. Bringing his hips to the edge of the couch, he spread his legs and brought his knees up, exposing his smooth ass free of hair. His puckered hole sat exposed beneath his dick and balls and without a word Clayton went right into ass eating. 

He stroked Erik’s tight entrance with his tongue and he would drag it up to his balls. Erik jerked his own dick, focusing on the tip. 

“Put your face in it Clay, stop playin’,” Erik commanded, “Good boy…”

Clayton tongued Erik’s ass so good He had his dick saluted to the ceiling and rock hard. 

“Fuuuck, if you make me cum like this, I’ll return the favor.” 

Clayton gave it his all. Whenever Erik rewarded him with ass eating, Clayton worked overtime to give his daddy what he wanted. Adding a finger, Clayton went right back to sucking Erik’s dick and tonguing his balls. 

“That’s it…look at that juicy mouth…fuck, Clay…Fuuck…Clay I’m about to bust—”

Erik couldn’t even finish his words. It’s been months since he had his ass eaten. Last time it was an ex-girlfriend back in Boston named Cahtrina that he met at M.I.T. She faithfully ate his ass. The best to do it. She could make Erik cum off ass eating alone. 

“Gahdamn, Clay,” Erik let his legs down, “You earned it for sure.” 

Clayton slid his hands down Erik’s thighs, staring longingly at Erik. 

“Are we taking this to my room?” Clayton stood up.

“Whatever you want.” Erik said. 

The door to the townhome opened gently and Danny; Clayton’s boyfriend, entered. Takeout bag in his left hand filled with wings and fries, Danny kicked off his designer loafers at the front door before shutting the door behind him. Danny’s almond-shaped eyes scanned the foyer as he strolled ahead. He made a left turn into the kitchen, hoping to see Clayton there but it was empty. He smooths back his shiny, black, quaffed hair and sits the bag of food on the kitchen island. 

“Clay?” Danny called out. 

He had a busy day as a real estate agent and he wanted to celebrate closing on a property he’d been busting his ass on selling. First thing he did was call up his mom and dad in Korea and then he planned to surprise Clayton that evening. He hoped they could also discuss moving in together since Clayton gave him a key to his new townhouse. Danny left the kitchen to find Clayton and when he entered the living room, his footsteps halted. Netflix was on and the coffee table had two wine glasses on it — one empty. A pair of fresh A1’s sat next to the leather sofa.

Danny stared puzzled, his stomach doing somersaults. He took the stairs, the more he climbed, the harder it was for him to keep it together. When he made it onto the second floor landing, he traveled down the narrow hallway to the master bedroom, and he didn’t have to enter to see everything he needed to see. 

Clayton has a fancy ornate floor mirror overlooking his bed. The lights are dim and the ambiance of the room was purposefully set to compliment the heart wrenching scene before poor Danny. Clayton’s deep mocha skin slick with sweat was arched over the edge of his king sized bed. Danny could see through Clayton’s expression. His eyes were closed but his mouth was agape and spewing incoherent words. The gut-wrenching sound of Clayton’s firm ass cheeks clashing with dynamic thighs filled the room. 

Danny turned his hurt gaze toward the man responsible for his boyfriend’s cries of pleasure. While Danny is more of a slender build, this man before him had to be double his size. Broad-shouldered, well-knit, and dynamic. This is what Clayton wanted. Not some feeble, weak man. A powerfully built man with aggression. 

“Erik…Erik…Don’t stop!” 

Erik. Something in Danny’s mind clicked. The infamous ex boyfriend. 

Danny’s gaze fell to Clayton again, visibly hurt but also turned on. Eyes back on the mirror, he studied the way Erik’s strapping legs flexed. His burly figure Danny envied. He looked up and to his horror, Erik was staring right into his eyes. Danny stood petrified, Erik’s eyes the color of coal burning into his orbs. Despite his focus being on Danny, his hips continued to pump Clayton full of what Danny knew to be the best dick he ever had. A slow, sinuous smirk painted Erik’s mug and the gold slugs decorating his teeth didn’t help situations. 

Clayton wanted to feel disgusted by his boyfriend’s cries or the way his body quivered with pleasure. He wanted to feel disgusted by the way Erik looked slanging dick so good Clayton was professing his love. Danny couldn’t stand there any longer while Erik taunted him with his sinister smirk and unwavering eyes. Danny found the strength to escape and when he did he didn’t look back despite the sound of Clayton’s voice announcing his release. 

“I’m cumming!” 

Clayton came all over the bed sheets and Erik was not too far behind. After three intense thrusts, Erik withdrew his hips and looked down to find his condom filled with cum. Clayton collapsed onto his stomach and Erik stepped away to remove his condom. After tying it in a knot, tossing it in a bin next to Clayton’s mirror, Erik’s eyes lingered on the bedroom door, wondering if Their voyeur was still around. It was exhilarating in the moment to play in the poor man’s face, but now he had to get out of there before things got out of hand. He refused to be around if the boyfriend is still here. 

“Leaving?” Clayton asked, peeling himself off of the bed finally. 

Erik had his jeans halfway on when Clayton gave him a disappointed look. If the turn of events didn’t happen, Erik would be smoking some weed he bought off of a plug earlier in the day. Smoking after sex was his thing. 

“Yeah…I don’t think it’s good for me to stick around, Clay. We both know that.” 

Clayton opened his mouth to protest but closed it when he realized the reality of the situation. Erik excused himself to the restroom and returned to find Clayton putting on a robe, flaccid dick sticking to his thigh from all the cum that sputtered out. 

“I had a great time, Clay…best sex I had in a while…”

“I think it’s best we don’t make this awkward,” Clayton scratched the back of his head, “I’ll walk you out, E.”

Fully dressed — Erik in his clothes and Clayton in a black robe — Clayton walked Erik downstairs. Erik had his eyes searching from left to right for the boyfriend but from the looks of it, he left. Erik wasn’t gonna kick back and wait for him to return. He found his shoes and was able to get his feet in without undergoing the laces. Clayton was looking everywhere but at Erik, avoiding his gaze completely. Maybe he should apologize for being so abrupt with leaving, but what good will that do? Clayton was in for some shit. 

“I’ll hit you?” Erik said.

Clayton opened his door, “Maybe. This shouldn’t have happened…”

Erik chuckled, “Too late for that, Clay. Take care of yourself, homie. You got my number…don’t be afraid to use it.” 

Clayton’s eyes fell to his bare feet. Erik tilted his chin up with his finger, making him look into his eyes.

“Can I get a goodbye kiss?” 

Clayton hesitated, but his lips touched Erik’s quickly and he looked as if he wanted more but instead turned away and shut his door. Erik stood there for a moment while twirling the keys to his whip around his finger. A part of him knew it was wrong for what he did, but was it worth feeling that mouth and ass again? Hell yeah.

Erik jogged down the front steps leading to a concrete walkway. Climbing into his car, Erik cranked it up and the AC hit him causing him to shiver. Erik left as quickly as he could, and when he finally made it out onto the main road, his stomach started growling. After driving for ten minutes, Erik spotted a Wendy’s and quickly turned left into the drive thru. He ordered himself a chicken sandwich meal with a strawberry lemonade. Finding an empty parking spot, Erik sat in his car and enjoyed his meal. 

After a day filled with getting his new place together and last minute shopping, Erik hardly had time to eat. The last meal he had was an açaí bowl. If Clayton’s boyfriend didn’t show up to ruin the party, Erik would have kicked it a little longer and ordered some food. After eating the last of his French fries, Erik placed his trash back in the takeout bag and sat it in his passenger seat until he got home. Turning on the light within his car, he reached in his backseat to retrieve the half-o he bought off a weed plug that was recommended to him by an old friend of his.

Securing his rolling papers, Erik cracked his windows and with his rolling tray in his lap, he started grounding up his weed while listening to Brent Faiyaz. Laying the ground-up bud on a rolling paper, he gently rolled the paper over the top of his blunt cone and carefully added the grounded weed inside. Patting his jeans, Erik found his Zippo Ace High Skull lighter. He sparked up his blunt and hit it. The aroma of the weed was slightly musty and even the taste was off. Erik studies the blunt in his hand before hitting it again.

“Nah, what the fuck?”

Erik grabbed the bag with his free hand and took a whiff. How had he missed it? He knew a bad batch when he saw one. Even the smell would have given it away. The weed was compromised. The weed plug sold him a bad batch. Erik flicked his blunt out of the window and grabbed his phone. He called the plug, his jaw set and nostrils flared.

“Yo,” the plug answered. 

“Nigga, did you sell me some bad weed?”

“Who dis?”

“Oh, now you got amnesia? It’s Erik, fool.”

“I ain’t sell you a bad batch.” 

“Yeah you did. This shit is brown and it smells just like a bad batch.”

“I don’t sell bad weed, you got the wrong guy.” 

“Nah, you got the wrong one if you think you gon’ play me, cuz. I should have known to check this shit before I gave you my fucking money. I want my money back tonight.” 

“I don’t do refunds.” 

“Tonight you will. I want my money back. I ain’t saying it again. I’ll meet you outside and you better bring me my shit, bitch.”

Erik hung up and tossed the bag of bad weed in his passenger seat. He was so filled with rage that he almost drove over a cone in the parking lot. Erik tends to drive recklessly, especially when he’s pissed. On his way out of the parking lot, Erik was about to enter the road when an all black Jeep Wrangler came roaring down the road. Erik pumped on his brakes at the last second causing the Jeep Wrangler to miss his car by two centimeters. The Jeep Wrangler’s horn blared out continuously. Erik felt his chest grow tight and he stared at the Jeep Wrangler with fury. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!!!” Erik barked out. 

The owner of the Jeep Wrangler sped off and Erik was right on their bumper. He skillfully came around to their front where they had no choice but to stop. They stopped with a screech of their tires, a lingering smell of burnt rubber in the evening air. Erik’s heart was racing with how fired up he was. He’d already been upset about the weed and now this driver wants to be an added pain in his ass, almost scratching and denting his new car. He couldn’t see the driver because of the tinted windows, but he could tell it was a woman with the rhinestone encased license plates. 

Erik opened his car door to inspect when the Jeep Wrangler swerved from behind him and sped past him again. Murky rain water from the wet road splashed up and dirtied Erik’s A1’s and the side of his car. Erik hopped out to get a good look at their license plate and although he badly wanted to chase them down, it was too late, they had already disappeared into the night. Erik slammed his car door shut and paced back and forth to calm himself. His fists were clenched and he closed his eyes to try and simmer down but he was seeing red. 

B-B-U-D-D-H-A

One Hour Earlier:

“GET YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Marcia avoided being hit in the face with a dildo that Jacey tossed at her head. Her body was still soaked from being in the shower and the woman she was caught with had rushed out of the apartment with just her red thong with her thing’s bundled up in her arms. 

“YOU LYING, CHEATING ASS BITCH!”

Jacey opened her narrow walk-in closet and any item of Marcia’s she could find she yanked it from the shelves and hangers to toss them at her. Marcia swiftly pulled on a pair of loose fitting sleep pants before she was smacked in the face with a denim jacket. 

“HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID?!”

“Jacey—let me explain—”

“Explain what?! How you ended up on your knees in the shower with a mouth full of pussy IN MY APARTMENT?! An apartment I pay rent in?!!!”

Jacey was a tiny ball of fury. The black hoodie she wore was swimming on her and hiding all of her curves. Marcia stood on the other side of the room with guilty eyes. She couldn’t explain. There was no amount of explaining that could get her out of this situation. 

“I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST YOU AGAIN! After everything I’m going through?! After getting into a stupid fist fight with my brother's baby mama! After the fall out between me and my mom! blaming me for Bella keeping my nieces away from me! And I come home to this?! You eating some bitch pussy?! And for what?! For me to take you back?! Forgive you?!”

Jacey tossed a pair of heels at Marcia who ducked in enough time. The shoes hit the wall hard and put a crack in the drywall. Jacey collapsed against the wall clutching her abdomen, trying her best to catch her breath. Her tawny skin is flushed and she could feel sweat rolling down her spine. Pushing her faux locs out of her face, she stood tall and glared at Marcia through her blurry vision. 

“Get your shit and get the fuck out!” Jacey yelled. 

“Where am I gonna go Jacey?!” Marcia argued.

“See if that bitch you’ve been fucking got a place for you to stay!”

“I can’t go back to my mom, Jace,” Marcia cautiously walked past Jacey to the closet where she retrieved her Puma gym bag to pack her things.

“I don’t care where you go. You can’t be here.” 

Jacey had come home unexpectedly after attempting to spend the weekend with her mom. She hoped to vent to her about the drama between Duke and Bella. Jacey had gone to visit Duke and confessed that Bella was having a baby on him. The hurt on Duke’s face mirrored how Jacey felt. Somehow, word got out to Bella and she showed up at Jacey’s apartment. They got into a heated argument that ended with both of them scrapping in the parking lot. Security had to split up the altercation and Bella didn’t leave without letting Jacey know that she can never see her nieces again. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Jacey. Your brother is already facing so much. You didn’t help by telling him about Bella.”

“If this means I can’t see my grandbabies, we have a problem. Me and you.”

“When will you learn to mind your business, Jacey?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me in my house. You can get your shit and go.”

Jacey didn’t hesitate to leave. The one person she thought would be there to comfort her after a bad day was caught sucking pussy in her shower. She recognized the chick too. A ‘friend’ of Marcia’s that has a boyfriend. That probably wasn’t the first time Marcia brought a woman back to the apartment when Jacey wasn’t there. 

“I can’t take all my shit tonight.”

Marcia tried to get Jacey’s attention but she refused to look at her. If she did, she wasn’t going to fall into her trap. She was going to drag her by her hair out of the apartment herself. 

“Then I’ll leave your shit outside of the door for you to come back for. I want you out of my apartment, Marcia.”

Jacey stormed out of the bedroom and into the living room. She snatched up her white Telfar bag and keys, walking to the door of her apartment to leave. She needed some air and a drive to calm her down. Marcia appeared from the hall with two bags over her shoulders and one in her hand. She’d been crying, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. She had her phone to her ear and a somber expression on her face. 

“Ma, can I stay wit you tonight? It’s a long story…”

Marcia walked out of the apartment and Jacey slammed her door shut, screaming. A kick to her wall from a neighbor seemed to tick her off more. Walking up to her patio that overlooked the parking lot, Jacey could see Marcia lugging her bags to her red Kia. 

“HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF YOU LYING ASS HOE!!!!”

Marcia ignored her and climbed into her car. A few of Jacey’s neighbors that were entering the building stopped to watch her shout obscenities.

“YOU DIRTY BITCH! DON’T FORGET THIS!”

Jacey picked up a rainbow 10 inch dildo and tossed it over the balcony. It landed on the pavement and bounced into the gutter. Her neighbors chuckled and pointed at the sex toy. 

Marcia reversed out of her spot and sped off as quickly as she could to avoid being seen. Jacey didn’t care about her neighbors laughing. That was the last thing on her mind. 

“Fucking dirty bitch!” Jacey shut her patio doors and left her apartment. 

She couldn’t wait to scrub her shower down and clean her sheets. The audacity of that bitch. Walking to her car, Jacey tried her best to fight back tears, but she couldn’t. She crumbled in her driver’s seat, gathering the sleeve of her hoodie to dab her eyes. If she was being honest, she was more so angry with herself about it. This isn’t the first time that Marcia played in her face. 

Jacey started her Jeep Wrangler and drove out of her apartment complex. She didn’t have any idea where she was going to go, so she just kept driving, the smell of rain from the fresh air filling her car calming her down. After ten minutes, her heart steadied to a normal rhythmic pattern. She turned into a nearby shopping center and parked across from a Wells Fargo ATM. 

Jacey opened her bag and grabbed a stack of money to deposit into her account. She locked her car doors and walked up to the ATM to deposit the money. She could feel her phone vibrating in her pocket and she knew it had to be Marcia. Exhaling, Jacey turned to walk back to her car and climbed in. Opening her glove compartment, Jacey grabbed her gold rolling tray and in her bag was a key of mandarin cookies, rolling papers, and a couple cones. The Mandarin Cookies strain is a sativa-dominant hybrid with a sweet, fruity aroma and a taste of tangerine and cookies. She snatched up her yellow Backwoods lighter from her drink holder and started rolling a blunt. 

Jacey toked on her weed and after five puffs she felt a sedating and calming high overcome her. She could taste the citrus and diesel from the hybrid strain and it relaxed her. Uplifted, Jacey ashes out her blunt to finish back at the apartment. Starting her car, eyes dry and vision hazy, she left the shopping center and headed back towards her apartment. Jacey wasn’t focused on how fast she was driving. Anybody in her way needed to make room. She maneuvered her truck like it was a buggie. 

Jacey made a swift turn going at 40 MPH when a white Acura MDX came zooming out of a Wendy’s parking lot. Jacey rammed her foot into the brake pedal, hee bag falling to the floor of the car. She swerved around the car and honked her horn repeatedly to get their attention. She didn’t wait around to see who it was and kept going, but the Acura MDX was right on her bumper. The luxury car came from behind and stopped right in front of her. Jacey gasped, pumping her brakes again just in time. 

“YOU ASSHOLE!!!!” Jacey shouted. 

She wanted to see who the fuck was driving that car. She wasn’t going to step out of the car. Luckily her windows are tinted. When the car door opened, she could tell that it was a man. Jacey quickly put her car in reverse and switched gears, speeding past the road-ragged maniac, sending a puddle of water onto him and his car. Jacey’s mouth dropped open in surprise as she watched her rear view mirror for the driver. When the coast was clear, Jacey broke out into a fit of laughter despite her rapid heartbeat and shaky fingers. 

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[cnwolf-brainrot]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Minimum Wage Turtles

So just a little headcanon/theory I have about the Mutant Mayhem turtles is that they eventually get jobs, because they're teens who are actually getting the chance to assimilate into society so yeah, I think they'd eventually get their own little customer service jobs!

Mikey is actually the first to bring it up because he and his improv group end up frequenting McDonalds after school and he quickly realizes that he doesn't have money to pay for it and now that they're out in the open it's a lot harder to justify not paying for things (and harder to get away with not paying for things too). He's also the bravest of the four when it comes to human interaction so he's the first to actually get a job, which ends up being a food service position (probably at the McDonalds his improv group visits). He's not the absolute best at his job and he spends a lot of time goofing off and definitely gives free food to friends, but he's FANTASTIC at talking to customers and distracting angry Karens so everyone loves him.

Leo is the second to jump on the job train, but more for a "I feel morally guilty about stealing now that we're able to be a part of society" reason than Mikey's "I want pocket change" reason. Leo gets a job at Best Buy because honestly with his school look he looks like the kind of guy who would look at Best Buy. He invests himself WAY too much into his work, and his managers love him for it. He's given a leadership position way earlier than he probably should have been because of how dedicated he gets to the work, and while he takes it eagerly he definitely stresses himself out over it.

Raph was a bit more hesitant to get a job but he hated when Leo or Mikey would buy things for him, so he eventually caved. At first he got a job at a grocery store, but he absolutely HATED customer service and quit after like two weeks to keep himself from punching a Karen in the face. He waited a while before trying again, and this time got a job at a gym. This suited him much better because while its a lot of cleaning equipment and dealing with whiny gym jocks, if he got mad at any point during his shift he could just slip away to "clean" the punching bags... with his fists.

Donnie took one look at his brothers getting jobs and said "took you long enough". He's been running his own freelance coding business for the past four years and is already making BANK. His bros asked if he wanted to get a job where he'd actually get the chance to touch grass and his answer was "ask me again when your paycheck has three more zeroes at the end of it". Most of what he does is legal, but he has taken a few dark web hacking jobs before and loved them with zero remorse. None of the bros know exactly how much money Donnie has hidden away, but its enough for him to literally laugh at their paychecks.

Also none of the turtles really care about shoplifting/minor theft. They were raised on that, it's how they survived. Getting money and actually paying for things is just a luxury they have now, and they're trying to fit in so eh, might as well ¯_(ツ)_/¯

[sashaisready]

Chapter Three - Call me Bucky

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

18+ - please see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

A few days had passed and everything seemed to be bumbling along as normal. No more surprise visits from mobsters, no more outlandish tips. The bakery had its steady buzz of happy customers and business was good.

You'd been trying out a new carrot cake recipe during a late afternoon lull the following Monday. Wanda was out sick so it was just you, but that was okay because Mondays were always quiet and you could handle things alone. You hadn't had a customer in over an hour so were in the back mixing when you heard the bell going.

"Be right there!" You called to the front of the shop.

You wiped your hands on your apron, cursing at what a mess you'd made. Your forehead was sweaty and you had butter and flour over your clothes in spite of the apron. Oh well. Hopefully you wouldn't scare the customer off...

You wandered back to the front of the store to find a tall gentleman in a fancy suit with his back to you, engrossed in his phone. Probably a business type popping in for a late afternoon sugar hit. You got a lot of those.

"Hi sir, how can I help today?" You ask as you take your place at the counter.

The man spins to face you and you can't help but gasp in surprise when you see who it is. James Barnes. He's back. He looks as slick as he did last time, immaculate in his tailored suit. His hair is carefully coiffed with a hint of gel, not a single strand out of place. Still gorgeous, too.

He smirks at your reaction.

"Surprised to see me, Doll?" He asks playfully.

"Sorry Mr Barnes, I didn't realise it was you" you explain. You try to ignore how his nickname for you sends shivers down your back.

"Well, I just enjoyed your merchandise so much last week I had to drop by again".

You smile at him warmly, dropping his gaze because it's so intense that it almost feels wrong to look at him directly.

"Great to hear that. So what would you like today?" Your professional veneer is hanging on by a thread.

He ignores your question and his eyes drop to your messy apron.

"What are you making?" He asks.

You fumble with the apron, embarrassed by your dishevelled appearance in contrast to his well-groomed figure. You must look like such a messy slob to him.

"Oh...just some carrot cake. I'm tweaking the recipe. Had a bit of a quiet period so thought I'd get a jump start" you chuckle nervously.

Why are you nervous?

You know why you're nervous.

He nods and smiles, scrutinising your appearance briefly before he looks back to the counter.

He begins to pick out cakes and pastries again, meticulously studying each section of the display case as he points out what he wants with a gloved finger. He asks for specific choices too. 'That doughnut third from the back' or 'that cookie second from the front'. You begin to understand that James Barnes is a man who likes things just so. And you would bet good money that he's like that in his day job, too.

You pack up his selections and ring him up, it's harder to keep up this time without Wanda. You take his credit card once again and he tries to pass you another obscenely high bill from his wallet.

"Oh I can't accept that" you explain, waving your hand at it.

He laughs. "Why not?"

"You already over tipped me last week. Honestly, Mr Barnes, you don't need to do that. Thank you, but really. You already spend so much here". You smile awkwardly at him, knowing full well he's going to fight you on this.

James chuckles. "I hope you're not telling me what I can or can't do with my own money, Doll..."

"Oh, no, of course not. It's just..." but you have no words for him. No excuses. Not without telling him that you feel uncomfortable taking cash from a mob boss, anyway.

He nods. "That's what I thought" he tells your firmly. In a single fluid motion he rolls the note up and leans over the counter, placing it inside your apron pocket.

You laugh. "Ass" you mutter quietly as you smile to yourself.

The word slips out before you can stop it. You clasp your hand over your mouth in surprise as if you can put it back in, but that horse has already bolted.

James' brows furrow. "What did you say?" He asks you accusingly. His eyes narrow and you see a brief glimpse of the scary man you'd seen on the news.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'm sorry...nothing" you reply casually, busying yourself with stacking up his boxes. You feel sick suddenly.

How could you forget yourself so carelessly?

He leans forward, the beginnings of a smirk on his lips. "Did you just call me an ass?" he asks as his eyes burn into you.

You try to think of a lie but his smirk is contagious and suddenly you're giggling.

"Oh, this is funny is it?" He asks. But his voice is soft, his face amused. It's clear this has tickled him.

"God, I genuinely am sorry" you tell him as you compose yourself. "That was so unprofessional. Really - I'm sorry".

"Why did you call me that?" He asks, watching you.

"Just...." You motion with your hand and copy the gesture he did of putting the money in your pocket. "I don't know. It just came out. The money thing was so smooth" you try to explain.

James stares at you like you're insane for a moment before chuckling earnestly. It stops you in your tracks briefly because it sounds like an authentic laugh, not the hollow snigger he seems to try to and undermine you with.

"Okay. You get that one for free, but only because nobody else is here" he advises as he shoots you a wink.

You laugh but part of you is shaken by his warning. You know full well it might have been a different story if you'd done that in front of his men.

As he begins to pick up the boxes you realise he's outnumbered - metal arm or not.

"Do you want help carrying those?" You ask.

James shakes his head and curls his lip like you've offended him. But then he tries to balance them all in his arms with one under his chin and it's clear it's not a one man job. Even a notorious man.

"Let me just take some. Are you parked up out front? C'mon, let me earn my tip. It'll make me feel better about taking all your money" you smile at him.

James smirks back at you. "Fine. But only for your sake, not mine".

You nod, grabbing a few boxes and opening the door. You follow him to his car parked on the street, a slick black SUV with windows so heavily tinted you don't think they can be legal. The trunk flies open despite James' full hands and for a second you think it's got motion detectors or something equally clever before you notice the man in the front seat.

"Hi again" the bearded blond turns and waves to you.

You smile back at him. Thor? No. Steve. Steve was his name.

"Hi" you reply shyly.

James begins packing the boxes up in the trunk and you follow with yours, ensuring they're secure and that the contents aren't likely to fly out if Steve makes a particularly sharp turn.

"There you go" you tell James sweetly as he slams the trunk down.

"Five star service" James says with a wink. "Thank-you, Doll".

"You're welcome Mr. Barnes" you nod as you wave and walk back to the bakery.

"Doll..." he calls to you.

You turn to face him once more.

"Call me Bucky" he grins.

"Bucky" you repeat back to him, feeling the name on your tongue, rolling it around in your mouth, trying it on for size.

[swifty-fox]

After reading all the sexy clegan asks, I would pay some good money to watch their OF 😵‍💫. I feel like this is a more polite way of saying I want to be the fly on the while while gale gets twisted into a pretzal. Or while John gets bent over the dinner table. Swifty, my dude (slides a case full of money across a table), how do you feel about an AU where two beautiful entrepreneurs take agency of their body's and their sexualities and make some good, honest money... together 😉. (I feel like I'm turning into Barry in Saltburn. I would drink the bathwater. SEND HELP. I need psychiatric care now!)

John Gamer Girl Bathwater lmao.

but!! your mind anon lmao. I got to spend a fun night with a couple aussie SW's a few years ago after a cancelled festival (not in THAT way. had a mutual acquaintance and offered to hang out with them since we all suddenly had no plans) and It was fun picking their brains about their lives. They were both primarily dancers.

John starts an only fans after graduating college with a degree in sports management. It's not that he CAN'T get a job but he's suddenly like 'fuck just because i like sports do i really wanna make this my career???' kinda lounges around a bit until the bills poke him on the shoulder. He's like hmmmmm wow if i go into the service industry i'll kill someone. I'm hot I got abs and a mustache and I'm six three I can probably do this. Starts off with a lotta POV handjobs and general thirst traps. He doe's great, its John Egan so he's just got that natural charisma and his voice is deep and shoulders broad and he's real good at dirty talking so he does custom audios for a price. Gets into the collab world on twitter and kinda shoots up in fame real quick. More of a top, bi asf like all my au's so he's kinda going across the board. He's pretty open about what his job is and the people who have a problem with it he kindly tells to fuck off

Gale starts one to put himself through his masters degree then finds out it kinda just.... makes a lot more money with a much looser schedule LOL.

He takes a long while to get good at it. He's hot as hell and has all the creepy dom top accounts all over him but he's shy and takes him a long time to figure out how to sell his content properly. He can't quite get into the cock hungry bottom bitch slut role that people wanna shove him into and it hurts him a bit. But he does manage to get a decently sized following pretty quick. King of the moaning clips, great fuckin one-on-one vidoes of him riding a toy.

John stumbles across Gale as everyone does: scrolling the porn tag on twitter looking for a lil somethin somethin. Those pretty lips wet and flushed as if they've been thoroughly used and those soulful eyes looking up at the camera as Gale hangs his head off the edge of a bed ready to be a perfect sleeve for his dick.

He wrings one out real fuckin quick, drops him a follow and a DM in that order introducing himself and asking if he's ever done a collab.

of course Gale already follows John. He thinks he's handsome but hes got no interest mixing business and pleasure (lmao just wait pookie). He's also never done a collab, never fucked another person on camera. But. but.

John is handsome.

And he knows the guy is legit and safe, has seen him ALL OVER (certified bicycle John Egan always) and knows he's had good reviews.

Gale's had many DM's asking for collabs. This is the first he accepts.

How can he not when John is in there saying "Hey man great content. Would to love maybe have you fuck me" as casual as can be.

Gale's never thought to FUCK someone on camera. Sure he likes both but like I said people want a certain image from. So that in of itself is appealing.

He agrees wholeheartedly

He puts John on his knees on a mattress and pulls his hair until his eyes water, presses him down with a hand between his shoulderblades for that perfect fuckin arch and and spanks him until John is jumping away from even a brush of his hands and whimpering, camera angled to get the perfect shot of his tear stained cheeks.

"Come on darlin," gale croons in that drawl "The people wanna see you break for them, give it all to me."

He fucks John, ass still stinging so he flinches every time Gale bottoms out but damn does he love it and damn does it make for good content.

John comes out of that session already in love.

and of course collabs usually film a bunch of content. gotta capitalize.

So after some rest and recuperation John does exactly what he's fantasized about and lays Gale over the edge of his bed and fucks his throat. Loud and wet and noisy. Spit and pre-come and tears dripping down Gales face into his hair; onto the floor. John takes a little break to rub it all over his face and tell him he makes such a good pocket pussy. Gale's gunna come just from this if Johns not careful. He doesn't have to worry though because once John goes back down his throat he reaches over and gives Gale a nice handy.

Spins him around and fucks him while he's too sensitive and screaming, half cringing away from it but also grinding back because fuck is does John know how to fuck.

John gripping gales hips in his big hands and telling him "Now you're not running away from me yet sweetheart haven't rode you raw yet"

They fuck a lot more. a LOT more. For the content of course. And then theyre like hey maybe we should move in together as colleagues and friends. Except??? maybe?? they start fucking off camera. And maybe they cuddle on the couch. and hold hands. and kiss and go on dates. And maybe they get married?? As colleagues of course.....or not

[badjoy-17]

The Playfellow Crew

Chapter 1, Part 1

1969, December.

"Where is it?" Ritzy was busy looking for the apple she grabbed to work. She woke up late that day and had no time to prepare her meal. "Anyone? Does anyone seen my apple?" She yells at the studio filled with busy studio crews dragging and moving props around the set. She was frustrated, it was the umpteenth time this happens to her for last three months.

She went to Fionn Finnigan in the Art department, slamming the door open and walk near him."Piyon! Can you help me..." (She had hard time seeing the difference of F and P pronunciation) Rambling about how she was late at work and didn't made herself a lunch box and was opt to grab an apple that is now missing.

"Is that about an apple again?" Fionn was a man in 20's yet still younger than Ritzy and yes he has seen this scene before.

"Yes?" Still sobbing. "I'm already tired and I'm hungry and ...."

"Why don't just buy your meal here, Ritzy?"

"I'm still your senior so address me Mrs. Ritzy?"

"Why the hell will I do that? You're the only one addressing people like that!" He glared at her annoyed and taking a deep breath to listen.

Her eyes grew bigger and looking up to this tall figure. "No, I'm not! And they like it even so I'm the only one..." she pulls him down as she notice herself getting a bit louder. "Also I'm saving my money for my family, remember? I can't be just spending money here and there!" She slumped to the side of his desk and lowers her head.

Fionn stood up to his drawing desk with a straight face and drags Ritzy away from the Art department. He takes a deep breath and spoke "Ms.... Er... No. Mrs. Santos, here have this cash and buy something in that vending machine." He hands her a few dollar and points out to the vending in the corner.

She looks at him with hesitation and mutters, "But its your money!"

"No buts, You can have that!" He still pointing to the vending machine and waiting for her to move.

She looked at him, embarrassed with the cash she received. She nods and thanks him, she felt humbled and went to vending machine. She took two energy bar, glances at him and suddenly runs to him. "Here, take this, Piyon."

Fionn wants to correct Ritzy but he didn't, she might be older but for him he should the bigger man in this situation.

"I know I've been making a big fuzz about this apple thing, but this job is too frustrating... Imagine, for the past 3 months since I started this video technician-ing thing, things are getting weirder and weirder in set. Apples starts disappearing, few staff getting injured, and sometimes the whole footage of the show just kept on doing those weird glitches. Like, that's my job to look after the final footage, it was all running smooth until all of a sudden that freaking thing happened."

Fionn turned his head to Ritzy, alarmed hearing about that incident. "You know what? I have the same experience like you..."

She turns her head to Fionn after hearing those word. "Really?"

"Yeah, You know me, right? I'm a part of the animation and art direction of the this show, right?"

"Uh huh.." she got herself invested and leans in his side.

"Yet everytime i check our panels and plate, there's this weird scribbles on the each animation panels... Wait." He then stood up and drags Ritzy to the archive, took an envelope and pulls out a several animation board panels. "...here look at this. I don't get it ... I swear, look! Those are not there before... Those are evaluated and inspected before getting approved and I... I received it spotless but...."

Ritzy examined each panels and laid them to the light table. "You're saying you don't understand these scribbles? was it from anyone in your department?"

"Yeah, they seems to be drawn by a kid, based on the handwriting strokes, it has difficulty to grasp with pen, here" he points into a pressed squiggly line in the panel "The line got no control on... The strokes are shaking and heavy, it ruins the whole panel."

"Yeah, you're right... But why they are sabotaging our works?" In her peripheral vision, there was someone's watching them from the door. More like a shadow. "D'you see that, Piyon?" Ritzy glued her eyes to him like telling him not to move and act like nothing happened.

"The what?" He looked at her puzzled.

"There was someone watching us from afar... I don't know why but it might be a ghost or something." Her trembling hand reached into her pocket, wrapped her pearl rosary in her hand and hold on it tightly. "Piyon, stay observant, okay?" This gesture confuses Fionn yet he nods obediently. "Oh, about this ..." She shook the wrapper of energy bar, "I owe you." Then she left looking around for something in the Art department

[3-2-whump]

Intro to Caretaker: Guard Shack

<prev next>

Author's Note: the audiobook our new OC is listening to tells a story from the world of @whumped-by-glitter, go check her out if you haven't already. I got her blessing to post this excerpt from her WIP here so that Nico would have a riveting book to listen to.

TW/CW: slavery whump, drug use (in the book). Wow, a relatively short TW/CW list this time!

This was the easiest money Nico Clemenza had ever made. From noon to about 8 pm, he sat in the little guard shack at the entrance of the mansion, opening the gates for the people who were authorized, and not letting in the people who weren’t. It took him a mere three weeks to memorize the faces of each Costa member, what cars they drove, their schedules, etc., but that was the hardest part, so far. The rest of the job involved plenty of downtime, which the young law student used to further advance his studies and slack off on his phone. He really should thank his uncle more profusely for finding him such a nice gig at this place last spring.

Costa Insurance operated out of the old mansion that once belonged to Luciano Antonio Costa –Boss Tony, as some of the older members referred to him. When his grandson, the current Boss, inherited the family business a couple years back, he also inherited the mansion and the several acres of land that came with it. Yet Don Thomas remained content to stay at his penthouse apartment, which led to the Organization renovating the grand old house into an office space, leasing out their previous downtown location, and moving the front to the outskirts of the city. Now here he was, staring blankly out at a long stretch of forested road, gun on his desk next to his textbooks and thermos of coffee, completely and utterly bored.

Just because it was the easiest money Nico ever made didn’t mean he enjoyed making it.

At least he had this audiobook on his phone. When he wasn’t doing his course work or watching the leaves of the trees rustle in the wind, he listened to audiobooks and the occasional podcast to stave off the ever-present threat of boredom. Currently, he was listening to a fantasy adventure narrated by a woman with a silky suave voice:

‘Dasa retreated to a quiet place outside of the cave that was now their refuge. He knew soon enough the weekly dose of Divinity’s Downfall would take effect. It was a potent poison, quite possibly the nastiest poison in existence, deadly in the worst way.

‘Fortunately, or unfortunately for Dasa though, it was just an extremely strong hallucinogenic and he did not want to be anywhere near either of his masters when the familiar claws of delirium sunk into his mind. While the drugs didn’t make him violent or anything, it just got embarrassing when Divinity’s Downfall loosened his tongue and he let all his thoughts spill out. Plus, he didn’t want Annika to know about the poisons; that was his burden alone. 

Dasa sighed, silently wishing he at least had his glass shards, the only thing he could say he owned. His first collection was left behind when he was taken to the palace, the second one was burned with the palace. A tear slid down his cheek. Dasa knew it was selfish; he shouldn’t be crying when Princess Annika and Master Jarek had lost so much more, but it just seemed like nothing would ever be his own. Not even his own body was his own, and the Tallisians could read his thoughts whenever they wanted, so he didn’t even have freedom in his own mind.  

‘‘Master Corvius was right all along, I am just a thing to be used or thrown out on a whim,’ Dasa thought bitterly as another tear slipped down his cheek, the poison beginning to seep its way into his -’

A succession of sharp raps against the guard shack door broke the immersion. Nico jumped a little in his seat, turning around to see who interrupted his story. A slim young man dressed all in black stood outside, his fist retreating from where it had knocked. The intern, his mind supplied. He usually rode out with the Boss at the end of the day. Nico hastily paused his audiobook and rose to open the door, running a hand through his unkempt dark brown hair in an attempt to keep up the appearance of neatness. “Hey,” he greeted, plastering on his signature smile. His classmates didn’t call him the ‘high school heartthrob’ for nothing.

Nico never got a close look at the intern until now. Cal –that was his name, right? –looked a bit young to be an intern, with his rounded, boyish facial features yet to melt away into hardened lines. He was a little shorter than him, though that coiffed tuft of black hair on top of his undercut gave him about an extra inch or so of height. His mocha brown skin contrasted with Nico’s fair complexion, as did his dark brown eyes, compared to Nico’s forest green ones.

“Can I eat my lunch in here?” Cal asked. His voice was a soft timbre, like a glacial lake in a forest. He hardly spoke with an accent, which made Nico feel a little self-conscious that he was expecting one.

“What, why?” he asked. Nobody ate their lunches outside. There was plenty of room in the refurbished dining room, wasn’t there?

“I usually eat my lunches outside, but it looks like it’s about to rain soon, and I would rather not be caught in it,” the intern explained. Nico looked up towards the heavy gray sky. The forecast mentioned chances of scattered showers around mid-afternoon... “Yeah, sure, come in,” he shrugged, moving aside as he opened the door a little wider.

The boy shuffled past him as he entered the guard shack, muttering a quiet “thanks” as Nico shut the door. He slouched back into his seat, then felt immediately guilty that there was only one chair in the guard shack and that his guest would have to stand and eat.

“Wait, would you like to sit down?” he asked, reluctantly rising yet again.

Cal eyed the chair warily as if it would bite him before saying, “No, I’m alright, thanks.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’ve been sitting all day, it’s fine,” Nico insisted. He pushed his chair forward in invitation. The intern shook his head again. Nico shrugged in defeat, resuming his spot in his chair as Cal unwrapped his sandwich and began to eat.

“So… your name’s Cal?” he asked, starting a conversation. He never got visitors to the guard shack before, unless they were there to tell him someone of consequence was coming or going, or to yell at him, so he didn’t want to bore away his first real guest.

A nod in between bites of food answered his question. “What’s it short for? Calder, or-”

“Khaled,” the boy corrected, washing down his last mouthful with a can of Coke.

Nico’s mouth opened in a quiet ‘oh.’ He quickly quirked his lips into a friendly smile. “My name’s Nico,” he said proudly. “Nico Clemenza, future attorney!” He gestured proudly towards his thick textbooks and unopened laptop. “My uncle got me this job to help me make some extra dough while I pursue my law degree!”

“Oh, um, that was nice of him,” his guest replied before taking another bite of his food.

“How did you get here? Not many people know about job openings in Costa Insurance.”

“Temp agency,” Khaled answered bluntly and a little too quickly.

He offered a low whistle. “Your agency must have one of our guys on the inside, to be able to get you into this job.”

Khaled merely shrugged as he ate the last couple bites of his lunch and chased it with a swig of Coke. “So, what is guard duty like?”

Nico let out a prolong, exhausted sigh. “Boring as hell,” he admitted. The intern chuckled a little at his honesty. “But at least I’ve got my phone and my laptop out here.”

“Wait, does that mean you get Wi-Fi out here?” Khaled asked, tilting his head toward the laptop.

Nico nodded. The boy visibly perked up. “Can you look up the FIFA U-17 World Cup for me?” he requested with urgency. “I missed the last couple games when I was grounded.”

Nico opened his laptop, quickly signing in and searching it up for him. “You’re a soccer fan, then?”

“Football,” Khaled corrected, “the real football.”

Nico scoffed; as a star quarterback during his high school days, he felt personally offended by the sentiment. “You mean soccer. The less cool football.”

Khaled ignored him, an audible groan escaping his lips as he read the results. “My team didn’t make it!” he whined. He sunk his face into his hands. Nico reached up to offer an awkward pat on the back, knowing the feeling all too well. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” the boy muttered, “they were playing against Spain; La Furia Roja are strong as hell, after all!” He set his hands down and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

“Want to watch what you missed?” Nico offered. He was already pulling up footage of the game on another tab as Khaled gave a small, eager nod. “Come closer,” he beckoned, blowing up the video to full screen.

All too soon, a dissonant beeping noise sounded from a pager hooked onto the intern’s belt. “Damn,” he pouted, “my break is over.”

“Well, at least it’s not raining too hard out there.” The light pitter-patter of rain intensified into a torrential barrage on the steel roof of the guard shack. Nico awkwardly chuckled; looks like he spoke too soon. He grabbed the large coat with ‘SECURITY’ emblazoned on its back from where it hung on the door knob, extending it out to his new friend. “Take this, and give it back to me at the end of the day,” he offered.

Khal took it gratefully and wrapped it over his thin shoulders as he made his exit. “Oh, and don’t be a stranger,” Nico added before he was fully out the door. “Come back anytime and we can watch some more soccer!”

The young intern flashed him a small smile. “It’s football!” he laughed. He raised the coat over his head and dashed into the pouring rain. Nico shut the door behind him, slunk back into his chair, and hit play on his audiobook. He couldn’t help but bear a matching smile on his own face. Looks like his job wouldn’t be so boring after all.

Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump@whumped-by-glitter

[akronus-writes]

the embodiment of fear: slashers and movies

Antros' mother knew something was different with her child the day he was born, silent and already cheerful. At first, they thought it was a sign he was a blessing, a child that could bring joy to the world. but then it started, no matter how much they fed him, he always seemed malnourished, but whenever someone got scared of him starving, he looked perfectly healthy.

They had hoped it was just a strange coincidence, but as he got older things only got worse. almost every night his parents caught him cheerfully watching horror movies as soon as he was smart enough to operate the remote. then he started scaring his parents, and even the other kids at school.

not even birthday parties were safe, every time one of them happened, he'd somehow get his hands on the remote, and start playing Friday the 13th, or Halloween. eventually his parents kept him home, and as they got used to his scares, he started to degrade. without that fear to cause, it was almost like Antros was going through withdrawals. But if he even just managed to cause some fear, he was right as rain, like nothing had happened.

on his 13th birthday his parents finally caved, and he was given access to a library of classic and modern horror. supplied with all of this horror, he quickly watched every movie before the month had ended, and in that moment, truly began to reach an understanding of himself. not the genderfluid part, he's known this for a while.

to his knowledge he was an embodiment of fear, a being that quite literally subsists off of, and is empowered by, fear. from what he understood he seemed to embody slasher villains and movie horror, leading him to experiment with his powers.

at first it was simply summoning machetes or being able to take a punch, but as he learned to better harness the fear he embodied, the more powerful he got.

eventually his control had reached a point that he could casually make a "banshee scream" loud enough to stun a grown man, and had permanently altered his body to be much more durable, and all around physically superior.

along with a development power wise, Antros had also begun studying in school to both become involved in the horror films industry, and to better understand human psychology. which is when it happened.

while walking home from the screening of the recently released 'the strangers: first chapter' Antros was approached by a young woman, about his age (16), in a black three piece suit and tie, with long black hair that trailed down her back like blood.

at first, he was ready to fight the woman, or just walk past her, but she had other plans.

"so you're the one my associate told me about, I believe Antros was your name?" she questioned, a smile dancing at her lips.

"yes I am, what about it?" Antros responded, stepping back to keep his face hidden.

"well, I've hear of your particular... skills, and believe I may have a job offer for you" she stayed back, letting Antros have his secrecy.

Antros remained silent for a few seconds, before tilting his head, and speaking "what kind of job?"

"a contract of sorts, you use your... fear powers, for me and my business, and in return I pay you, in money" the women responded, as the cloud began to shift, revealing the blood that stained her shirt.

Antros weighed his options before he spoke, holding out his hand to the woman "deal"

"deal" the woman shook his hand, before swiftly turning around and walking off.

"fuck, I didn't get a way to contact he-," Antros' train of thought was cut off by the blood that dripped onto his shoes, looking to its source, he saw the bloody business card his new employer had left him.

on the walk home, he examined it closer. there were only two things on the card, an address, and what he assumed to be the woman's name, Aldira.

@good-wizard @f4y3w00d5 @monsterfucker-research-wizard @f4y3w00d5 @the-final-knight @fayewoods-2