#Might fuck around and write a fic to cope with some of the shit I talked about in therapy today

[blitzwhore]

Okay, question, I know we'll probably find out next episode but I wanna see what you guys think—

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn��t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[benedictscanvas]

gentle hands, ankle clasps - roy kent x reader

pairing: roy kent x fem!actress!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: mindless fluff, language, allusions to smut but nothing remotely explicit (that should be blanket warning for every fic i write, it's never smut but the characters are almost always slightly horny maybe i'm projecting)

request: hey can i request a roy fic with the reader being an actress of some sort and being like bubbly compared to him - anon

a/n: back with roy again, being a comforting little shit. another chapter of be still, my foolish heart coming tomorrow, but thought i'd treat myself to a request in between! if you have sent a request, thank you!! they're all fucking incredible and please rest assured, i will be getting to them over the next week or so <3

---

Roy’s arm, firm around your waist, is practically the only thing keeping you upright. Why your stylist had insisted on these heels, and the height of them, you had no idea. Yes, you were a strong capable woman who could handle whatever life threw at you - apparently not counting these shoes.

“Think they’ll find it cute or nauseating if I carry you inside?” he whispers in your ear, temple pressed firm against yours. You tip your nose into his cheek affectionately.

“I’d find it nauseatingly sweet if you did,” you murmur, blocking out the shouts and flashes from ahead of you, “But the headlines would all be about my inability to walk in heels. I can’t give them the satisfaction.”

Roy nods, and pulls you in even tighter to him by the waist, glowering at the cameras again. You rest your hand on his chest in a tried and tested pose, one leg in front of the other, hip jutting out. Your bright smile was a much talked about contrast to Roy’s own expression, but the pictures were still ones you treasured.

You caught Keeley out of the corner of your eye, her and Jamie posing for photos of their own. Normally, you might have ran over to greet them but since you currently couldn't run, you just waved, mouthing a 'thank you!' to them for coming. Keeley offered you a shocked look at how good your outfit was, while Jamie just saluted. You could feel Roy’s arm moving and knew what he was about to do, so you grasped it lightly in your own.

“No middle fingers at my premiere,” you hiss at him, under the guise of the same bright smile. You feel his chuckle in his chest under your palm and you relent, bringing his hand up to your lips to press a kiss to each knuckle before you let it go, “Thank you.”

He grunts and you nod your appreciation to the camera people before moving on, allowing Roy to propel you forward as you fight to keep your balance. However uncomfortable you were, at least you knew you looked damn good. When you’d done a twirl for Roy before the two of you left earlier, he’d just stood there silently. He stared at you for fucking ages. You think he’s still frustrated that you stopped him when he started toying with the zipper because you weren’t willing to be fashionably late.

“Think you can cope?” Roy asks, pulling you out of your thoughts as he gestures to the next lot of paparazzi who are this time clamouring for some solo shots of you. You kiss Roy’s cheek and nod at him, pushing him gently out of the way with a laugh as you assume your previous pose but with a hand on your hip instead.

There’s a woman waving a microphone at you and you squint at her, then eagerly hike up your dress as realisation dawns.

“Hannah! How are you?” you greet warmly, kissing both cheeks and taking hold of her hand, “It’s so good to see a friendly face.” “These things are quite overwhelming,” she agrees, holding up her microphone in a way that you’re used to. No, you and Hannah weren’t friends, but you were friendly and that counted just as much in this world, “But you’re going to have to get them used to them, honey! Your third big movie this year, how do you find the time?”

“Oh, I made a deal with the devil long ago, Hannah,” you laugh, annoyed with yourself that its not your real laugh. Maybe tonight really was a little overwhelming, “No, in all seriousness, I’m just honoured to have gotten the chance to work on not one but three incredible projects in such a short period of time. I’ve been lucky.”

Your eyes find Roy’s. He’s stood just a few metres away, ready to dart in and take you away if you give him the signal. He’s a godsend and he’s perfected his routine of saving you and he gets away with it because he’s Roy Kent. It works wonders for you.

“Speaking of being lucky,” Hannah attempts a segue that you’re not sure even she’s sold on, “What’s up next for you? Another Hollywood blockbuster or some quiet time with that fella of yours?”

Hannah speaks in a very friendly way, so why do you have the sudden urge to go all Kent on her and tell her to kindly fuck off. You do a shaky exhale with your mouth far enough away from the microphone as you scratch your temple with one finger. The signal.

“Ah, you know, I think it’s time that I-”

“Right, that’s enough,” Roy steps up, signature couldn’t give a fuck walk on display as his arm winds around your waist again and it feels like you can breathe once more, “Fuck off now, please. Thank you.”

And he gets you out of there. Steers you past the next batch of photographers entirely with a few middle fingers despite your earlier insistence. You’re too grateful to care, smiling at those you pass with ease since Roy is making it clear that you’re not stopping to talk. You see a few more Richmond faces as he opens the door to the cinema they’re screening the film in, some of which you actually wouldn’t mind speaking to, but you figure you’ll see them inside.

Once you’re in the door and Roy has shut it behind you, the first thing you do is let out a huge huff of breath, a release. He tilts his head at you knowingly.

“I love it when you’re simultaneously rude and polite, you know?” you say, trying to break a bit of tension, “Fucking hot.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, and you wonder if that’s why he’s started add pleases and thank yous to his insults. He takes your hand in his and leads you slowly over to a sofa in the entrance hall, “You good?”

“Am now,” you answer honestly as you flop into a seat, watching Roy crouch down in front of you, hands on your knees through your dress, “I don’t know why it’s difficult tonight. Hannah’s a delight, normally.”

“Hannah’s a fucking nosy delight,” Roy barks out, “Your feet hurt, you’ve been rushing around all week, all those interviews. Talking to people. You’re exhausted. It’s fucking allowed.”

“I like talking to people,” you say, voice small.

“No, you’re good at it. There’s a difference. If you describe your perfect night to me, does it involve any of these people prying into your fucking business? Does it involve people at all?”

He’s very good at suddenly coming out with something that allows for a slight shift in your worldview. And he’s right. You know how to talk to people, you’re good at it, making connections and finding common ground. But your happiest is at home. Maybe a Richmond match, if they win. A day at the zoo, even.

“You’re so secretly insightful, god,” you groan, plastering a hand to your forehead as you sink further into your seat, “You’re right. Shit. I’ve just been doing so much of it.”

“Yeah. Just need a break. I’ve been telling you that shit.”

He has. Incessantly. You’d almost argued with him about it the day before, but you stopped yourself when you remembered he was trying to be kind, even if you were struggling with the constant reminders to take care of yourself. You’d promised, after the premiere, you’d recharge. If you’d listened to him, you would have recharged before, and maybe you could’ve handled a longer conversation with Hannah that the film’s promoters would have liked.

“Can we just agree from now on that you’re always right? It’s like living with a wizard. You’re my Gandalf.”

He chuckles, rubbing his hands up your thighs and back down again, strong, soothing motions. You’re not sure he even knows he’s doing it, providing steady comfort without even thinking about it.

“Fuck no. I’m wrong all the fucking time,” he says, “Let’s agree that we’re both always wrong.”

You giggle, shaking your head as you take his hands in yours, stopping his movements. You lean forward to press your forehead against your clasped hands.

“Love you. Thank you for tonight,” you say into his hands, feeling him kiss the crown of your head, then look up at him to add, “And for every other night. You know my perfect evening does involve one person, right?”

He looks suitably pleased. Sometimes he gets this look on his face that’s almost a smile, eyebrows lifted and sparkling eyes, lips slightly parted. It always makes you want to kiss him, so you do, keeping both your hands over both of his until one of his ends up holding your face closer to him. He breaks away first, keeps it light and sweet, like he knows exactly what you need at all times.

“I know you’re about to make a joke about-”

“Jamie, yeah, I was going to say Jamie,” you admit, flicking your gaze between both his eyes, “But I meant you, idiot. Always mean you, even if I don’t say it.”

“Fucking sap,” he mutters, leaning in to steal another kiss, even slower than the last. Even deeper. You want to pull him on top of you and lean back into this couch and spend the evening like this but there’s definitely other people walking around here. It’s like you’d forgotten.

“Love you too,” he breathes when he pulls away, “And I’m fucking proud of you. For this film, for tonight, for all of it. But if you don’t let me and Phoebe fucking pamper you tomorrow, we’re going to have a fucking problem.”

You gasp, eyes wide.

“She wants to do a spa day?”

“As soon as I told her how stressed you’d been, of course she did. Says her mum got her a new face mask she thinks you’ll like,” he shakes his head, then stops you as you’re about to say something, “And before you ask - no, she doesn’t want to be fucking pampered herself. Keeps going on about ‘providing a service’ the weird little shit.”

You feel a teary laugh bubbling up in your throat. Phoebe made you feel so loved. Roy made you feel so loved. You hoped you could ‘provide the same service’ for them.

“I will be the most relaxed woman on the planet tomorrow,” you promise, running a hand down the side of his face, thumb lingering on the scruff, “Can feel myself floating towards that title right now.”

‘Good. One more thing,” he leans away from you, head ducking down and a terrified part of thinks he’s about to stick his head underneath your dress, but instead you feel the clasps of your shoes coming undone around your ankles. You peer your head to watch him gently free you of your heels, one by one, thumb pressing into the soles of your feet and rubbing all the way down once. You shivered.

“Now let’s go and watch a fucking good film, yeah?”

God, you don’t know how you’re going to keep your hands off this man when you’re about to be sat in a dark room for the next two hours. Your dress pools on the floor when you stand up now that you don’t have your heels, but Roy quickly picks up the fabric so you don’t walk on it. You turn your head to sneak another quick kiss as the two of you begin walking towards the theatre, your heels dangling from Roy’s other hand.

“If you don’t end up marrying me, Roy Kent, I’m going to be really fucking angry with you.”

You watch the grin light up his face as he holds the door open for you to go and find your seats.

“Noted.”

[freakroth]

i saw your post saying that people who ship incest and headcanon dazai as liking that stuff are obviously going to be harrassed. I don't headcanon dazai as liking daddy kiddy stuff, but i want to ask how you think writing about that makes a person bad. because dazai has literally committed AT LEAST child abuse(akutagawa), 136 murders, 312 extortion cases, 625 cases of fraud and more. but if you think authors deserve to get harrassed for writing about sick crimes like incest because they support or like such things, then why aren't you harrassing asagiri for writing about all those things? and I've seen alot of people that act like sex crimes are somehow different from torture and murder. so I'd like to ask this. do you approve of cheating irl because you act like people who write about sexual related immorality are condoning it and then you say that you might write about cheating in your fic request rules. Also, If you're deep in the bsd community then you may have read no longer human, in which it is heavily heavily implied(to the point that there's literally no other explanation for what happened to her exept rape) that yozo's wife,yoshiko, was raped. do you believe that the irl dazai approved of rape?

I don't mean to come off as rude or argumentative, so sorry if i do, im genuinely curious.

I'm sorry but, are you stupid? you're asking why someone is a bad person for writing incest, pedophilia and rape content. OFC SOMEONE IS A BAD PERSON FOR WRITING THAT KIND OF STUFF. If someone writes it they normalize it, and normalzing disgusting shit like that is VERY harmful.

Its kinda dumb that you are compering Dazai, a fictional character to real people, Dazai is not a real person, so his actions don't effect real people, but people who make incest do effect real people. As someone who is a victim of sa, its very triggering to see incest, pedophilia, rape ect content being made of my favorite character. Making that type of content is normalizing it, and if we normalize kids being raped by someone they're close to, then its gonna end up making younger kids think that its okay if that happens to them.

"but if you think authors deserve to get harrassed for writing about sick crimes like incest because they support or like such things" i never said to harass the writers, i said that if they are gonna write that shit they need to be able to handle the hate, and yes they deserve hate for making it, and saying its for coping isn't a valid excuse, because they are hurting other victims at the same time.

"I've seen alot of people that act like sex crimes are somehow different from torture and murder" They are different, rape is done by the attacker so that they can feel sexual pleasure. And sadly in some cases, like junko furuta, people get raped, tortured and murdered for no reason. But still torture and rape are still different, and i don't know why you're bringing up torture and murder when this is about incest content.

"do you approve of cheating irl because you act like people who write about sexual related immorality are condoning it and then you say that you might write about cheating in your fic request rules." The answer is no, just because i said i MIGHT write for it doesn't mean i will, its meant as "in some cases i might write it" and even if you don't condone incest, rape and pedophilia irl, its stil very much wrong and disgusting and people who write it should really feel guilty about it, if you have thoughts about that stuff you need to seek help, not normalize and spread it around the interent. Also cheating and incest/rape content aren't comperable btw, one is a crime and the other one is breaking someones trust.

Now the book part, i have the book but i haven't read it, and bringing the real life dazai, into this is stupid, he lived over 70 years ago, people thought differently about rape back then so its hard to know. also the book is a fucking autobiography so ofc its gonna talk about stuff that happened in his life

Anyways please tell me if anything in here is wrong or if you wanna add anything to this

Btw saying "sorry if i come of as rude" after compering me to weirdos is something! 🥰

[etoilesombre]

You know what? People shouldn't feel bad about liking things in fandom, or creating things that make them happy. I'm absolutely vagueposting, but this really isn't about one post, it's about a tone I've noticed popping up again lately from multiple people (including people I follow and generally respect!)

-"They absolutely cannot fuck! So crazy people would think about that and be into it, it would break canon! "

-"Mod AU doesn't work, they're Serious Characters they aren't gonna run a coffee shop its OOC! "

-"Actually, fun fluffy fic about them at all during a certain era doesn't work!"

I get it. I agree with a fair part of it. People post all kinds of asinine shit that I hate actually. But you know where I bitch about it? Privately in group chat.

Let people fucking have fun. I get the sense that many people come to this fandom specifically because it's Serious and Challenging and you want to Do Serious Analysis. I think a lot of folks around these parts either are in school and not having a good time about it, or wish that they had gone into better academia that doesn't really exist, and they're getting that need met here. And that's great! For real!

But you know what else is fine? People who either don't have that need, or are getting it met in other parts of their lives, and come here for stress relief and a fun free hobby.

Of course they can't fuck for real! It's not in the text, they simply don't. But the tension is obviously written in, and playing with possibilities can be fun! Also if you can't see how it could happen and still not fix shit, that's a skill issue. Fic authors aren't stupid, we don't fail to understand canon, but not everything has to be everything all the time. Sometimes you want to do all the work and try to match the level of writing in the show, and sometimes you want to have something nice and easy. The show is REALLY well written and what it needs to be, the point of transformative works is playing with what it's NOT. Some people cope with fluff, or good ending everybody lives AUs, and it might be so totally valid to look down on that, but maybe being publicly correct might be less important than being kind?

Actually, the main thing I want to say is that if YOU reading this are a person who wants to write a cute coffeeshop AU, or be horny on main about your boys kissing, it's actually fine!! At least, it historically has been fine. This is a really small fandom now and not that many people are actively creating, please don't be discouraged by this stuff, because the people who criticize on tumblr are actually not the majority. The REASON they criticize is that, if you go to AO3 and sort by kudos, much of it is this super sweet OOC stuff! It looks like that's most of what there is, because a lot of readers in the wild who watch the show and look up fic like it!

Anyway. Let people have fun, it doesn't cost you anything, and not every thought needs to be public. It actually does discourage people.

[cloveroctobers]

SILENCE — ANGEL REYES x OC x CANE TEJADA | Part ii.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m actually doing a part two since I never do those because they don’t ever preform as well as the first but after that (terrible) finale I couldn’t resist. Thanks for the support on the first one, hopefully this will bring some sense of more life for Angel. if this is my last piece for him then why not also go out with a little something? He’s the last man standing apparently so here’s a send off on my part.

WARNINGS: language, hints of coping mechanisms? Or Mental illness Therapy is mentioned, I’ve also been binge-watching 9-1-1 from the beginning, I’m currently on season 4 I think! which is why Eddie’s character is mentioned but he doesn’t make a appearance so please skip over this if you’re feeling some type of way about that and are looking for a eddie based fic. I will be writing something for him soon btw. There’s also a little surprise towards the end for certain lovers who might read this.

*GIF and photos DO NOT BELONG TO ME!

Read part one here. + using this prompt and number 21. Timing

*ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *

Solay’s half asleep, the soft horns sounding from the NBA game Cane’s got his hands on was actually comforting and it often reminded her of nights when her and her sister would fall asleep on the couch together while their father watched the game. It was late, once watching the clock going from midnight to 2 am, she was once wired, greasing cane’s hair and brushing his waves before securing the doo-rag around his head.

It was a typical night, their version of normal until harsh knocks sounded at the door, breaking Solay out of her slumber. Her eyes felt heavy but she was alert and so was Cane as he paused the game, picking up on the knocks that appeared at the door some more. He tossed the controller onto the coffee table, moving slowly as he reaches underneath the cushion of the couch Solay was lounging on.

His low-lidded eyes briefly met her’s as he brings a single finger up to his lips after taking the safety off. Cane’s on his feet now while Solay shortly follows after, reaching over to turn off the side lamp and ready to head to the back of the home to check on her son, Xavier.

Cane wasn’t sure who it could be, he knew it couldn’t be any of his people considering the situation back home but he figured it could be Tariq’s bitch ass, you just never know with him. He’s against the door now, peeking around but all he could see was a shadow of someone.

Yanking the door back to fly against the wall, he’s quick with his grip as he aims the gun right at Angel Reyes who hold’s out a arm while he cradles his son.

“Fuck you want?” Cane asks.

Angel looks down but it’s not like Cane cares, although it seems he lowers the gun just a bit, for the baby’s sake.

“I need to talk to soso.”

“Nig—, you know what time it is? Knocking on the damn door like you the feds or some shit? What makes you think it’s okay to show up here unannounced at this time of the night?” Cane’s tone is clipped.

Angel shifts Maverick in his arms as he says, “that’s a conversation I need to have with Solay, not you.”

“Last time I checked, she ain’t with your ass no more and I’m the man of this house so you want to run that by me again?”

A house Angel was damn sure Cane didn’t put a penny down to help with the mortgage.

The darkness underneath Angel’s eyes was deafening but the twitch of his brows was evident that he had no intentions of backing down. He still felt a way about Cane showing up to his house and Angel thought he could do the same. If this was his house but Angel couldn’t see himself in the big apple.

It was only right in his eyes.

Before he can send a rebuttal at the shorter brown skinned man, Solay appears from behind Cane, who lets out a sigh before sucking his teeth.

“Enrique Iglesias is here,” Cane informs Solay who pulls her robe tighter around her body.

She hasn’t seen Angel since the funeral for Felipe. Understandably so, he needed time to grieve but she figured he was doing it alone due to the decline of Ezekiel’s relationship with the man and that couldn’t be healthy. And it wasn’t like Solay saw Angel much before that either, he showed up to the second therapy session but it was clear that his mind was somewhere else. Which wasn’t unusual when it came to his precious club but Solay didn’t pry since it seemed like Angel was always on the go or lost in his thoughts. It’s not like she didn’t care but he was the one who encouraged her there to these sessions but her gut also told her that it would always be only a matter of time.

Until he moved on to something else.

Timing was never something Angel managed well. If shit came at him, he was usually thrown for a loop depending on what it was and never had guidelines for plans or anything like that. He was more take things as they were tossed at him type of person but ever since EZ got into that president’s chair and Angel got the chance to raise Maverick, he was also changing.

“Angel…” solay started as she took in his appearance, she could tell that something was wrong, “what’s going on?”

Angel swallowed the lump in his throat and if Cane wasn’t in the room right now, he probably would have collapsed into Solay’s arms. She could see that, she could sense that. It was in his eyes, that he was hurting and sure way back when that might have gave Solay the tiniest bit of satisfaction but that’s not where they were now.

She was annoyed he stopped showing up to the sessions but brushed it off after awhile, saying that she “knew it,” up until Felipe was gunned down in Angel’s childhood home. There was always something going on with Angel and although they were trying to work on their relationship, Solay knew she couldn’t be selfish.

She didn’t have the heart to be.

Solay waved Angel in, despite the incredulous look Cane shot her way. She’s locking the door behind him and rests her hand on Angel’s lower back, which surprisingly makes him flinch as she does.

A brow raises at that but Solay says, “come into the living room.”

“Yeah okay…where’s Xavy?”

“Sleeping like yo ass should be.” Cane mutters, while Solay sends him a sharp look.

He places the lock back on the gun and puts it into the waist band of his basketball shorts, clasping his hands in front of him as he eyes Solay being so gentle with a dude that didn’t deserve it. Cane was heavy on that, “fuck the fact that he’s your baby’s father, after everything he put you through? Why are you still concerned when you knew he was gonna pull that shit? He doesn’t care about you like I do and I’m not even sure he gives that much of a fuck about Xavier.”

This was said after Angel stopped showing up to the sessions and Solay didn’t want to hear it. It didn’t feel like cane’s place—although she vented to him and he did the shit-talking to mainly make her feel better—and it also wasn’t angel’s place to feel a way about her seeing someone else.

Solay inhales as she sits on the coffee table, crossing one leg over the other as she takes in her ex-husband. He’s barely blinking as he stares off in space and Solay isn’t sure what to do about this.

“Talk to me,” she says bringing Angel’s dark eyes to meet her doe ones, “what happened?”

Angel places his lips against a sleeping Maverick’s temple that he cradles and then blows out a breath, “where do I start? Luisa’s gone, just buried my pops, now EZ’s dead—which I—I played a part in, I’m out the club and now I need you and Xavier to come with me to Arizona.”

Cane is laughing it up now while Solay is almost at a lost for words. She wasn’t surprised about Luisa but it would probably explain why Angel was checked out and why he moved in with Felipe. They haven’t really talked like they used to be able to do so hearing all of this—about what was going on in Angel’s world was a lot to process.

It always was.

“What do you mean…EZ’s dead?” Solay croaked out, shifting as she held out a hand to silence the man behind them.

Angel rubs at his exhausted face now, “The club found out…now it’s over. I buried him myself out on the road and I wish I never encouraged him to be in this shit you know? Maybe he’d still be here being a smart ass. My brother’s gone and I don’t got nothing left. This dried blood on my hands…it’s not worth it no more. Which is why I need you and Xavy to come with me before the feds come because I know they will. It’s only a matter of time.”

Solay searched Angel’s eyes and they held sincerity. It was all finally coming full circle now, what she’s been telling him for years…that the club’s brotherhood wouldn’t end well. Not when there was so much dirt, blood, lack of values, and deceit behind it. She had no issue speaking her peace on the club way back when (she also felt a way when she learned that EZ was getting involved fresh out of being locked up but angel didn’t want to hear that shit either) and sure she got along with some of the men there but it’s not like she was ever clueless to what it was. Solay was tired of constantly looking over her shoulder when it came to Angel’s club and that feeling never went away, even when she gave birth to their son and even when they were officially divorced. Everything was crumbling down around Angel and he was trying to get out for good.

“You want me to just pick everything up and follow you to Arizona?”

Angel dips his head, “yeah, it’ll be different this time. And I’m not saying let’s go off and get remarried or nothing like that but we could be something real. A family again.”

“Yeah a real fucked up one,” Cane comments, making Angel realize that he was in fact still in the room with them, “so let’s get this straight? Your daddy’s gone, that bitch you cheated with up and left your ass—which probably means she’s six feet under too—yeah I know exactly what she’s really into and it’s clear you’re too dumb to figure that out still, and now for a club to kill one of their own…it’s evident that your brother was some sort of snitch who got what was comin’ to him. But the ultimate disrespect is you coming back up in here with your tail in between your legs, thinking you can just take back what you lost long ago.”

“Listen man, you watch your damn mouth when it comes to my blood.” Angel points a warning finger at the man who chuckles; not the least bit threatened, “this is much bigger than your fucken ego. I’m looking out for Solay and our son, this don’t got shit to do with you. Never has. You can leave and go back to your own crooked shit in New York and leave Solay and my son out of it.”

Now isn’t that the coffee calling the kettle black?

Cane furrowed his brows, “Now you wanna win the father of the year award? You ain’t never been shit as far as I can tell and you’re never gonna be shit. Solay’s not going nowhere with you, she’s good on that.”

Solay got to her feet now as Angel glared at Cane who was all smirks, knowing he could get underneath the vulnerable older man’s skin so easily, “I’m going to need the both of you stop speaking for me.”

Both men kept their heated stares on each other but Cane couldn’t take Angel seriously with a child in his arms. The silence was weighing down the living room as Solay began to pace the floor. She didn’t know all of the details and didn’t think she would with Cane in the room. There was truth in his words when it came to the club—this Solay knew, although she was always on the outside when it came to anything revolving around the Mayans.

“Cane…I need a minute.”

“Aight, let’s go.” Cane was ready to lead the way back to the bedroom with a nod of his head in the direction of the room but a shake of Solay’s head had him confused.

Solay met Cane’s hooded eyes, “with Angel, alone.”

“I know you’re not considering leaving with this clown, So.”

Angel shrugged his shoulders, “It shouldn’t matter to you no way, the only reason you still stuck around is to get some product right? Now that that’s gone—you don’t need me or Solay. So maybe you should start saying your goodbyes now.”

Which provoked cane to whip out the gun again, until Solay reached for his wrist, making cane glance at her, ready to shove her hand off but he moved his stare back to Angel who had a sly smirk on the corner of his own lips.

“You act like you’re the only one I can do business with.” Cane tightened his stare, “Heroin ain’t really my lane but I thought why not since I’m here? You fucked that up like you constantly do and there you go again assuming shit about my relationship with Solay and you don’t know the first thing about it.”

Angel lifted his shoulders, “I know you ain’t no better than me and you don’t really care about Solay as much as you claim you do. It’s all a game but the difference is I’m always gonna be around, you on the other hand are disposable and I’mma always have my son’s best interest at heart. Solay’s the bonus.”

Cane rolled his eyes, “Let me find you a gold sticker for your forehead—

“ENOUGH!” Solay screams at the both of them, carefully peaking over at the sleeping baby afterwards,“this back and forth is getting on my nerves. Let me think in peace for a little bit, just go Cane.”

She orders.

Cane kisses his teeth and walked off, knowing that it was best before he might actually let some bullets fly.

Solay massaged the space in between her thin brows as her mind began spinning. She thought about all the bad the club brought to her front door and she was just leveling up without it.

So it seemed.

Now here Angel, a man she used to be in love with, a troubled man she wanted to spend forever with once upon a time, the man she shared a child with, was here telling her he was out. Out of the club, something she wanted for years for him because she knew that club wasn’t his purpose. He didn’t see it then but he saw it now. Solay’s faced a lot when it came to the club, with Angel’s disappearing for days at a time making her believe one of those days he wouldn’t come home to her, quality time being cancelled so he could be more dedicated to that club instead, cleaning up his wounds due to all sorts of danger he was involved in, he fucked those bartending bitches behind her back while some of those men smiled in her face knowing his dirt, to having a false sense of protection that led to being tied up, beat on so bad and left alone in a burning building years ago—which she just finished paying off a hospital bill for.

All of those instances let Solay know that The Mayans weren’t some saints by any means but Solay knew Angel loved that brotherhood once upon a time. He was slowly changing and morphing into something else—maybe something better—over these last couple of years but Solay figured that’s what happens when on-going lost comes your way. Gives you a bit of a wake up call and proud wasnt the word she would ever use (everyone that he lost still mattered to her as well) but it was about damn time.

It’s just unfournate how it all played out and there was so much to weigh out here. Solay knew she and Xavier would probably be harassed despite Angel being officially out of the Mayans. The war doesn’t just end and given what state Angel was in—numb yet determined, sitting in her living room clenching onto Maverick, Solay knew this war would just brew many more.

She would be affiliated no matter what and so would their son and so would Mavy—if not more thanks to who his mother is or was. This would always be Angel’s doing and she wasn’t blaming him, that wouldn’t get her anywhere she realized but it was a fact. She was with Angel right when the club was just an idea, a one night stand which later turned serious not long after he got patched in, back when he and Coco just moved into the Azure apartment complexes. The Mayans ripped through Angel, that much she could tell and many in her position would jump at the chance to shout at him, “I told your ass!”

Except Solay closed her eyes and took a deep inhale, rolling the tension out of her shoulders before she met Angel’s stare.

“Tell me all of it but take it easy when it comes to…Ezekiel.” She tells Angel, feeling a twing in her own chest at the thought of the brother she couldn’t save.

Angel held his ex-wife’s stare and inhaled a shaky breath, “…alright.”

Life in the desert was not something Solay thought she would ever be part of. She immediately thought of dry skin 24/7 when she had combo skin. Yes there were deserts back home but at least there was a downtown area that wasn’t far from her home. This transition was certainly just that. She’s in the kitchen in a daze, the southwest home is quiet in her mind as she’s drying the last dish. Her eyes are set on the two square windows by the dining table off to the side of the strangely shaped kitchen, back pressed into the kitchen sink.

It’s a early Monday afternoon, September just hit the calendar and she’s lost track of time. A hand catches her off guard as they tug on the belt hoops of her Jean skirt, making her gaze turn down to her seven year old who’s peering up at her with her mirrored doe-shaped eyes and his father’s nose.

“We’re back from the pool, mommy!” Xavier signs as Solay smiles sweetly at him, hand going around his shoulders to squeeze him to her hips.

She didn’t even pick up on him entering the sliding doors by the dining room, her mind elsewhere.

Labor Day came around much quicker than expected and they had their little celebration that Sunday but Xavier seemed to love the water and couldn’t get enough. Which means Angel was on duty for taking him and Maverick to the pool out back while Solay did a few minor things for work online and cleaned up the lunch angel ordered.

Solay signs, “Did you have fun?”

“Always!” Xavier laughs with a nod of his head.

“Good, let’s get you cleaned up.”

The boy groans as Solay gives him a stern look while he spins on his damp heels before stomping out the kitchen and headed towards his room.

Solay lightly laughs with a shake of her head.

“Xavy pouting about clean up time again?”

“Yeah the usual,” solay shrugs as the man makes his way over to her while she reaches to brush a wet strand of a two year old Maverick’s hair back, “everything go alright out there?”

Angel bends to put Maverick on his feet, the little man taking off on his chubby feet to find his big brother, “yeah, why wouldn’t it be? It’s hot as shit out there though. Isn’t autumn supposed to be here by now?”

“We just touched September,” Solay states kind of ignoring the question he asked back, “and you’re the one who picked Arizona, not me.”

Angel lifts his chin, “you could have talked me out of it though.”

“You don’t listen to nobody but your own big ass head.”

Angel shrugged as he leaned his elbows back on the dark wooded island that was rolled and locked in place on a angle in the kitchen, “seriously though, I’ve seen you in here looking like you’re off in space and shit. You sure you’re alright?”

Ever since Solay made the decision to be here with Angel, Maverick, and Xavier, Angel always made it his task to question how she was holding up. Like it was devastating or like she had regrets being here but that’s not truly how she felt. She wasn’t sure how she felt, Solay couldn’t really explain it. She just knows she feels something unsettling often. After Angel told her the truth back in her old stucco home in Santo Padre, she knew getting the hell out of dodge was also the best option.

They weren’t together but they found a new therapist and communicated much better. Angel worked two jobs, first considering a semi-truck driving job but declined once he knew how much hours he would have to put in and how long he would be away from his family. He was persistent on turning over a new leaf. Of course he still had scraps of his own money and Luisa’s blood money but he promised Solay that he wouldn’t use that money when it came to renting their home. He could do whatever he wanted with it but not when it came to their new home or Xavier. So he worked as a custodian at a middle school full-time and a delivery driver on Friday and most Saturday nights.

Solay signed over the building to her second in command at her shop to continue running her business in Santo Padre and if she wished to turn it into her own, she could. Solay was expecting and waiting for the day that would happen. Her main focus was running her e-commerce shop for her beauty line which continued to be successful and having her products distributed in over seven spas in the major cities of Arizona. She was still doing well and adapted to the new setting although her family was very vocal on this big leap.

Her dad still wasn’t vibing with Angel like that after all these years and knew from the jump that he continued to get his daughter into some mess. It really wasn’t like that but a father always knows and he had no problem booking flights with his ex wife, Solay’s mother to vacation in this hot ass desert right at their house. Her big sister on the other hand? She made it routine to talk to Solay and her nephew, Xavier almost every day.

In a way having Solay’s family around a few times out of the year kinda made him forget missing his own. Almost. Even when he was got in disagreements with Solay’s opinionated father. He could laugh about it once he dropped them off at the airport and brush off the touch of overbearingness because that’s just how Solay’s family was.

He was still down to go to the end of the earth with her as he eyed her in a new light now. Part of him expected Solay to just kick him out that night and keep him away from Xavier. Instead he gave her the littlest bit of time to decide, on his terms and even though everything seemed to be moving rapidly to him, he understood that Solay didn’t operate like that. Things could be drippy when this type of news was delivered and felt overwhelming. She had to sit with all the information Angel gave her, then analyze it all and take Xavier into account before moving forward.

Maybe this was just what they needed, a change of scenery, away from the Mayans and what that town brought into their lives. It wasn’t perfect by any means but life was much more slow-paced now. Initially this is what Solay wanted, a soft girl era but there was always this haunting feeling that shifted from her chest down to her gut.

“Do I?” She asked, snapping out of it.

Angel started tossing a plum up into the air, “don’t know if you notice but you just did it again. Felt like twelve hours later that you answered me.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you mean it though?”

“What?”

“You’d tell me if something is wrong right? If you don’t want to do this anymore—

“Shush. It’s not ideal but it works for now.”

Angel dipped his head at this. He was very much aware that Solay could run off into the night if she truly wanted to but she was also invested in beating the odds. She wanted a stable home for their son. It made sense to Angel and knew it didn’t to anybody else and sure it was rocky at first with Xavier having trouble adjusting to the new environment—which kicked mama bear Solay in play, who had no issue telling administrators to be more accommodating to those with special needs (there was a serious lack of specific hearing impaired schools in small towns like this and santo padre but at least back home there was one educator that was also an interpreter) —Angel had to hide the chairs let’s just say that and Angel also had no issue telling the kid that picked on Xavy that he’d “fuck him up,” which the kid repeated but his own parents didn’t believe that surprisingly.

Probably because the wife and her husband had their eyes on angel. Solay was completely convinced that they were swingers but Angel laughed it off until his ass got squeezed by one of them at a third meeting.

“Alright then…wanna talk about that date with the firefighter?”

Solay scowled, “it wasn’t a date.”

“You went to a cooking class together this time around and a escape room before that, which he had a advantage to considering his job by the way. I’d say it’s a date, why are you being so weird about it?” Angel’s tossing the fruit up in the air but frowning over at the woman.

Solay scratches at her scalp above her scarf in irritation before moving to leave the kitchen and entered the living room that’s right next to it, “i’m not being weird about it. I just don’t think I need to talk to you about it.”

“Why not? I’m not feelin’ no type of way about it if that’s what you’re thinking. are we not besties now?” Angel followed after Solay who flicked the reruns of a talk-show off.

Solay scoffed as she looked over at angel in disbelief, “we’re roomies at best.”

“Exactly, besties.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I think it would help Edgar sleep better at night if you just admit yall are going on dates.” Angel teased as he leaned towards Solay who gave him the hand on her way by.

“That’s not even his name!”

Angel called out to her, “I know it starts with an E though. I gotta be close.”

“Eddie.” Solay told him, “Short for Edmundo and that’s all I’m gonna say about him to you.”

“Edmundo? Awl shit, you got a type!”

“Shut the hell—I’m gonna tend to the kids.”

“Yeah uh huh, you can get away from this conversation now but I’ll just ease drop some more when you’re gossiping about ‘im when you’re on the phone with big sis.” Angel commented as Solay rolled her eyes and made her exit.

If you asked solay she would say Angel’s the one being weird about this. It’s been two years since they left and Angel was keen on seeing solay get back out there and find her perfect match or whatever. He seemed to be more for it than Solay herself. She wasn’t really searching when Eddie came along in a bar (with a few others) she was having dinner solo in and she definitely brought it up to their therapist, who said it was Angel’s way of trying to make up for the unhappiness he brought her.

Still that was more weird than them living in a house together raising their sons in Solay’s eyes. A more normal reaction would be Angel grilling the casual dates Solay went on but now he was ready to hear how it was going and when he would meet them. Solay’s only been on two dates with Eddie and he was a complete gentleman, had a excellent job, a bit dorky and nervous? which gave Solay the indication that he did like her a little bit when he stumbled over his words asking her out for the first time but knew how to keep a conversation going, it was easy flowing. Almost too easy and Solay wasn’t used to easy.

At all.

She’s helping an annoyed Xavier with a Luke-temp bath, putting her thoughts on mute after hearing Angel tend to Maverick in Xavier’s room, coming up with all sorts of sound effects as if they were pilots (she thinks) since Maverick seemed to enjoy airplanes.

“Mom,” Xavier gets Solay’s attention again, sticking his finger into her nostril.

She flinched back making the boy laugh in her expense while she shook her head at him with a disapproving smile. He’s pointing behind her at the counter and Solay turns as she sits on the closed lid, reaching for her vibrating phone, which shows its her old employee calling her.

“Hey Idil, I know you’re not working on the holiday?” Solay greets after putting the call on speaker.

There’s loud shuffling on the line, which makes solay furrow her brows a bit as she turns back to the phone, “Idil?”

“Sup, so. You miss me?”

Solay pauses as she picks up on the familiar voice, “…Cane…what’re you doing?”

“Business. That’s all I’m good for right?”

Things didn’t end the best with Cane as to be expected when Solay told him what she planned on doing. Which included putting the house on the market, packing up half of her things, having some of it shipped out, leaving a small portion to sell with the house, discussing the way her business would be ran in Idil’s hands abruptly, and most importantly leaving Cane behind. She learned all about him showing up to Angel’s house with his little brother Dru, threatening him to stay away from Solay and to see how they can get in on Ez’s supply of heroin to move a percentage of the product in New York. Cane heard about the new president from word of mouth on the streets but he was the first to actually take the trip and do something about it.

Solay came into sight and he got a little distracted but when cane learned her background, he was close enough to get that connect but he also found fun in getting on Angel’s nerves. Which left Solay to question if any of it was real, she was tired of men taking for her weak when she opened up her heart to them which is why she was a little emotionally cut off—so she thought but she was always passionate or sensitive—depends who you ask.

“What do you want?”

Cane huffed, “how you know I ain’t just supporting a black owned business? What if I want to keep my skin looking like a Hershey’s kiss?”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Yeah but you had enough time to fuck off with Antonio banderas and kick me to the curb though.”

“You sound pressed.”

“Nah, I handle shit.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Solay’s eyes were in slits now, “you know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t want anything else to do with your bullshit.”

“Why not? We had a good time together don’t you think?”

“I’d Rather not reminisce about the past.”

“See, I find that hard to believe. You in that clay box ass house with a nobody raising his kids, one of those kids that’s a product of him not being loyal to you. Not loving you. Like you ain’t shit to him, he treated you like you were temporary. Which is something I would have never done to you but you’re too blinded by him for whatever reason. Sounds like you ran right back to the past because you’re scared of something real.”

Solay cackles as Cane voices his thoughts to her, like he just read her. “Scared, maybe? Real? That’s unlikely with you. You didn’t step into what we had as a forever type of thing, it was all lies on your part too. All the red flags were right in front of my face and I don’t know how you don’t get that you’re no better, Cane. I know one things for sure, I wasn’t ever afraid to lose you, so stay the fuck off my line.”

With that she ended the call and only imagined he was probably screwing somebody in the shop now if he wasn’t running product through it. Idil couldn’t be that fooled or backstabbing right? She knew how cane operated and it’s been silent for two years now, not hearing from him and her accepting that most of it was probably not genuine was just Cane trying to get ahead.

Solay was over these men trying to get the best of her when she felt like didn’t deserve this. She was knocked off her path moving to Arizona but perhaps this was part of her healing. At least that’s one way she tried to look at it, putting boundaries up and vowing that she didn’t see being in a romantic relationship again with Angel Reyes. What she saw was: she needed to move on from all the hurt, find happiness behind the success and continue being a good mom to Xavier.

Solay was done with the drama.

“Soso, everything good?” Angel called from behind the door.

Solay had her eyes trained on Xavier, her hand resting on his coarse damp hair. She calls back out to Angel, “yup, all good. Hey, what do you think about taking the RV out for a ride a little later? Go sight seeing.”

“Fucken finally!” Angel cheered from behind the door while a small smile appeared on her lips, “I’m driving though.”

That’s right, Angel made the purchase of a RV for the hell of it last summer while Solay looked at it as a possible exit plan. Did Angel know that? No but she planned on telling him at some point. Did she need to jump ship just yet now that it’s been brought to her attention that cane was still keeping tabs on her? Maybe so but for now she just wanted to enjoy this holiday.

She’s on autopilot as she’s getting Xavier dressed into some lounge clothes that would be suitable for their outing later. After finishing twirling his coils, she sends him off to run to where Maverick and Angel are horsing around—easily joining in on their fun. Solay stands in the doorway, arms lightly folded as she watches them bond with each other, like a family should.

This time it felt like it was time to stop catering to everyone else’s needs always first yet that could be dangerous if you didn’t have balance but Solay was ready for something more. No one was going to get in the way of that, she vowed. She deserved to have genuine joy that didn’t end with her crying herself to sleep at night. That didn’t mean to find that in someone else because you’ll be dependent on that person always and that’s not something she wanted to do anymore, be dependent on anyone else for love, this she learned in therapy but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the company of a certain firefighter if she got out of her own way.

She should text Eddie back.

A lot can happen in two years and her attitude shifted being in the same space as Angel again. It wasn’t necessarily intentional in the beginning it’s just that it was always something with him. Now it didn’t feel like she was simply tolerating him anymore, no it wasn’t all sparkles and sunshine either in this present time but the bad moods stopped being constant. Solay’s mind was always on the move and being someplace else away from her main family, gave her the chance to really sit with her emotions and that brought up a lot some days.

She had to learn that her life wasn’t some play in a dream land or that she was out in the audience watching, like this was euphoria or anything along those lines.

This was actually her life and as she watched a tatted shirtless Angel settle into his newfound life with his boys, warm smiles and head thrown back while he silently laughed as he interacted with both boys in harmony, Solay let a smile of her own split onto her face.

It’s after 3PM when the family of four make their way out into the Arizonan heat that’s good at sending people to do a quick face plant. Solay’s checked the weather every hour before they deemed that now was a good time to go out, the temperature only went down four degrees which absolutely didn’t feel like much as she held Maverick’s little hand and Angel led the way while Xavier ran from his side and up ahead.

Forgetting something in the house, she tells Angel as he’s standing at the dining table inside the cool RV while the boys sit side by side.

“C’mon so!” Angel groaned, “We’re just going on a thirty minute drive and coming straight back, you tryin’ to take the whole house?”

Solay raises a finger in the air as she’s going down the steps, “better to be prepared than not to be if we get stranded.”

“Don’t put that kinda energy out there, cariño.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother.”

“Run that by me again?”

“Nothing. Go head.” Angel fanned his ring covered hand at the arched brow Solay sent his way.

He then snickered down at the boys who watched their interaction as he spoke and signed, “Joking,” to Xavier and Maverick.

The heat blew across her skin as she peered down at her phone, house keys swinging on her finger until she stopped in her tracks, looking up and over at the two young figures standing before her.

“You must be Tariq and…”

“Oh, I’m Brayden!” The blond boy on his right beamed with a hand pressed to his chest in greeting, making the taller of the two cut his eyes at him.

Brayden shrugged innocently at the look Tariq sent him while Solay let out a sigh and placed her phone into the back pocket of her Jean skirt.

“You don’t seem surprised to see us.” Tariq noted while Solay held out her hands.

“Not really, when you get older it’s always something. So…what’s the plan here boys?” Solay moved her hand to press against her forehead, blocking out the scorching sunrays.

The two share a look with each other while Solay awaited for them to spit it out. They were here for a reason and Solay was open to hearing them out since they came all this way after all but it’s not like she wanted to be wrapped up in their bullshit either.

They just met and she really owed them nothing.

“Do you know a Don? Don Carter.” Tariq starts and he picks up on the expression on Solay’s face.

She doesn’t say anything but Tariq picked up the expression on her face much faster than Brayden could register it.

“He’s this detective who’s wife got killed years ago and he was never able to solve the case. We have proof that shows Cane pulled the trigger that killed her and we need your help to get him out the way or else our asses are done for.” Brayden added.

Solay answered, “Detective Don Carter is my cousin.”

“I knew it.” Tariq smiled as if this solved his problem, “if we hand him the truth and you lure Cane back here, we can either take him out or Don can do whatever he needs to: throw his ass in jail or take him out himself. Whoever gets to him first besides you.”

Brayden brushed off his shoulders before the teens gave each other dap, “Yeah, team work baby!”

Solay shushed them, making the smiles wipe right off their faces, “what makes you think I want to be involved with Cane again? I’ve moved on, whatever else he’s got going on doesn’t have a thing to do with me if you haven’t noticed.”

“That’s not true though,” Tariq frowned, “you know he’s obsessed with you more than he’s on my shit and that’s saying a lot. He’s gonna disrupt whatever you got going on until he wins.”

‘What exactly does he think he’s going to win?’ Solay thought to herself as she tilts her head to the side at the teen’s words, Tariq would know that side of Cane since that’s not the side she got to see but he did fool her before.

“So the plan is: you want me to trap him for your sake? Which again, doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Yours too. He did you dirty, right? Aren’t you sick of him because I sure am.” Brayden asks, making Solay cross her arms.

“That’s my cousin’s business not mine.” Solay almost sasses, “I’m on a clean slate this time, I’m just trying to be a mother and be a legal business owner, no more dealing with men that have bad shit attached to them. take that shit to Don and leave me out of it. I heard he moved out to New york.”

“Well…” Brayden sucks air between his teeth with a wince.

Tariq states, “we can’t go back to the city just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Cane’s stupid ass, the rest of the tejada’s, and Effie set me up that’s why!” Tariq was heated, rightfully so.

“I tried to take him out but I guess that wasn’t enough to be fatal,” Brayden is apologetic but Tariq just dips his head in thanks, a silent understanding passing between the two boys.

“Wait…you shot Cane? He just called—nope.” Solay begins walking by the boys, done with the conversation while shuffling her keys as she heads back to the house, kicking up dirt while she went.

The boys were pleading as they followed after the older woman but she was not trying to hear anymore.

“Hey!” Angel called out to the trio, making both Tariq and Brayden whip around to face the mustache wearing man who stood on the steps of the RV, shotgun aimed right in their direction.

“Shit, shit! Don’t shoot us man, we really come in peace!”

“Shut up, Brayden.”

“Angel,” Solay calls from the path of the doorway and gives him a shake of her head to tell him not to pull that trigger.

Solay takes her eyes off Angel and says to the boys, “wait here, preferably away from my ex-husband’s eyesight.”

“No problem! You got it!” Brayden disappears, hiding behind the southwest exterior while Tariq holds Angel’s stare who turns them into slits, “what’re you doing, riq? Didn’t you say he’s in a motorcycle club? those motherfuckers get rowdy.”

“Nah, he was. Then he disappeared. He might be our answer too.”

The door slams shut behind them, making the teens turn back to Solay who’s locking up the home while carrying what appears to be a trinket box. She meets their stare as she steps down onto the dirt and nods her head, “follow me.”

“Not if you’re gonna have that guy kill us!”

“Nobody’s dying,” Solay says over her shoulder as she leads the way back to Angel, “my kids are inside the RV.”

Brayden let’s out a whistle of relief as Solay steps up to Angel, reaching up to lower the gun down, her eyes saying something which gets him to put the safety on lock.

“This is Tariq and Brayden,” Solay let’s Angel know as they make their way into the RV, making the man let out a groan of annoyance.

“Our kids are here and it’s a holiday, why are you two pulling up now?”

Tariq presses his elbows into his knees after taking a seat on the couch parallel to where the two kids sit, “To get rid of your remaining problem: Cane Tejada.”

“Oh…the fucken bed bug.” Angel rubs at his face in irritation while Brayden snorts at the insult.

Solay cut her eyes at him, motioning to their kids, leaving the man to hold his hands up in surrender and then sticks his tongue out at Maverick who looks his way. Solay places the headphones onto the toddler’s ears and gently rubs Xavier’s shoulders, although he’s too involved in his tablet to care about the new guests.

Tariq and Brayden give the same rundown they just gave Solay and Angel listens carefully. He rubs at his face in thought over this, on one instance this could go in their favor but on the other hand it could also go very wrong. It became knowledge to Angel that Cane was still keeping tabs on them and that didn’t sit right with him. This means they never knew what he would do or when he would do it, he was always unpredictable like that and the last thing Angel wanted was Cane messing up what he and Solay came so far to have together.

This was the first time Angel got to really start over and he knew from the beginning that Cane was not the one for Solay. Standing here now just proves that.

“We know a guy that can probably help you guys more than we can,” Angel says after a moment, his eyes meeting Solay’s as she nods her head also thinking the same thing.

Solay doesn’t say more as Angel moves to the driver seat, leaving her to tap and motion for Xavier to slide over before she reaches over to hold Maverick in the safety of her arms.

Brayden’s more antsy than Tariq is, who seems to have this calm but cautious demeanor analyzing everything around them just in case they needed to flee from the RV. His guard was secretly up but he did his research, he found out what Cane’s plan was coming out to California but wouldn’t realize how this would backfire on him.

Tariq didn’t care to know the full details on Cane’s fraudulent relationship with the braided woman but he could see the appeal in Solay. With the way she moved on her own, with Angel and interacted with the kids, there was power in her soothing aura. Tariq could tell that she was over it though and that she’s also been through some shit but if she wanted to fully dead the situation, she would even if that meant she didn’t have to get her hands dirty herself.

The drive from the desert into the Mountain View and ramps was not what Tariq was really used to on a daily but the ride was long enough. Angel’s soon pulling up on the side of the road before shutting the engine off.

“We’re here,” Angel says through the rear view mirror before unbuckling his seatbelt.

Solay looks in his direction before turning to the two boys, “before you ask, there’s a pay phone up ahead and you’re going to take this number and let him know that Majesty and Sunny sent you.”

Tariq takes the slip of paper from Solay who rocks Maverick on her lap, “How do we know you’re not setting us up?”

“You don’t.” Angel calls out while Solay blinks.

She shrugs, “that’s not the life we live anymore but if it’s to get the bad off our backs…hopefully this will be worth it.”

“Are you sure this guy will help us?”

“His ass is always into something despite the fact that he should be dead with the rest but I know he’s been itching to get into it. To get his hands on something again…he’s a dumbass just like you two.” Angel fills the two in while they share a look, unsure but knew they didn’t have much else to lose.

They didn’t have many on their side right now.

Solay chipped in as she rests her chin on top of Mavy’s dark hair, “And just like you used to be.”

“That’s before I became a dad.”

Solay hummed in disbelief.

“Alright before i became a better one!”

Tariq got to his feet now while the pair smiled at each other from across the vehicle, “aight thanks for looking out.”

“Sure…but promise me this will be the last time we see you.”

Brayden glanced at Tariq who stood by the stairs, “as long as this guy comes through.”

Solay tunes that response out.

“Uh wait, how do we know it’s him?” Brayden asks as Tariq heads towards the door but also pauses on the last step.

“…he goes by Guero.” Angel says as Tariq repeats the name with a nod of his head before pushing the door open.

Once both boys are off the RV and shut the door closed, Angel starts the engine again and pulls off leaving the boys behind to their own disarray.

Solay turns with one arm to pull Xavier to rest against her chest, her attention turning to the blur of trees lingering in the now partly cloudy sky, lost in the silence that she welcomes again while Angel briefly glances at the sight of her in the rear view, just wondering what’s going on inside of that head of her’s.

He hoped it was tranquility just like he was searching for within himself.

ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *ੈ ╭──╯ . . . *

Continue along with my September anthology prompts here.

[mamawasatesttube]

what would u say it takes for a fic to get kon's tone correctly? or like. what things do u feel make the tone Wrong? (if u can put it into words ik this is a very vague question LMAO)

so in essence you are asking me to distill kon as a character. i will attempt to do this, but preemptively be warned i will likely be rambling.

there are a few things about kon that always stand out to me. i draw a lot on sb94 for his overall character, with sb11 and adventure comics to guide his character arc. to me, he is, in no particular order:

incredibly smart

but exceedingly hard on himself,

and prone to self-deprecation.

silly and goofy! a geek-ass loser!!

full of joie de vivre!

deeply, deeply passively suicidal.

quick to anger (mostly when younger)

but even quicker to cool off and apologize if necessary.

too quick, even. very forgiving of anything done to him, no matter how fucked up, if he thinks the person is genuinely sorry.

kind. kind. kind. kind. he wants to believe in everyone.

prone to naivety, because of it. (again, especially when younger.)

ready and willing to destroy himself if it helps someone else even a little bit. a bleeding heart that maybe bleeds too much.

deeply, deeply caring. about everyone. especially the folks nobody else really cares about.

pretty introspective (post-death and resurrection).

passionate. he does not do anything by halves.

haha silly!!! jokester!!! star trek time!!! wahoo!!!

so as you can see, he is a character built on contradiction. he loves life, but he's been suicidal since day one. he's a lot smarter than anyone, including himself, gives him credit for - he might not be the best strategist out there, but his creativity and ability to think on his feet are phenomenal! he's deeply kind to the core and yet worries about who he is, because he can't see himself how anyone else does. i could go on. it's about the contradictions - the kontrast, if you will.

in terms of fic writing, character voice, and tone: imagine a boy in the basement of a fucked up science lab surrounded by the frozen-in-stasis corpses of his twelve would-be brothers, the clones before him that didn't pan out. he is white-knuckling his gloves. he is repeating to himself, but i stay silly :3!! but i stay silly :3!! but i stay silly :3!! but i stay--

this, too, is about the kontrast. denial and humor are his best friends and his favorite coping mechanisms.

to me, i guess a fic gets kon right if it understands he is an unreliable fucking narrator. he's incredibly repressed. he just denies it all and pretends he's fine because he can joke it off. he stays silly!! X3!! but he's a genuinely sweet and thoughtful guy. he does all the farm chores for ma kent without being asked, loves his dog, has nightwing merch (a zine, specifically, from the looks of it) in his room, and physically is incapable of shutting up about star trek. he's a geek. he's silly. he's loving. he's deeply sad. he's a walking talking identity crisis.

also wrt fic writing. i mean i know saying this is a lost cause because anyone bothering to read a long post about kon isn't the kind of person writing fics that don't actually treat him as his own character, but. he is not fucking scared of bruce wayne oh my god. i will forever yell about these pages from sb94 #85 aka what might be my fav issue in the entire run:

he doesn't stand for anyone being unjust, even if it's his bestie's mentor who he respects a lot!! even if he's a little nervous he tells bruce off and demands better from him!!! (granted, i also think this is some of my least favorite bruce writing ever - i don't like him sounding like a kkk manifesto someone hit find and replace on when he talks about metas, and i don't for the life of me understand why so many of his "fans" continue to eat that up and then shit it out in the year 2023, but that's getting off topic.)

ALSO. HE LOVES AND RESPECTS CLARK SO FUCKING MUCH. that's another thing fics get wrong. he does NOT resent clark for "not being around" and he does NOT tolerate anyone talking shit about him!! clark is his favorite guy. he idolizes him!! yes, he's sometimes sad about wanting to be closer to him, but never communicates this (and, again, this is also an editorial mandate). if kon was going to blame anyone for their relationship not being what he wants it to be, IT IS HIMSELF!!!! he does this literally on page in sb94, when he finds out clark has a secret identity and isn't superman all the time. he blames himself for not being someone superman would have wanted to confide in sooner. he is REALLY GOOD at blaming himself for things. he would never in his LIFE blame clark.

in conclusion. please enjoy this incredibly roumd krypto snoozing next to him in lena luthor's house. thank you for your time ♥

[memberment]

morning everyone

I wasn't gonna make an update post today bc I've been like

kinda debbie downer as fuck & I'm not feeling super yappy.

but I'm literally working on Knockin' On Heaven's Door (36) and Genesis is actually almost done.

Wish me luck at work may or may not update more later<3

(2:51) I'm giggling to myself over how significant 3's and 7's were to this story before I decided to include the seven seals of the apocalypse in it. I am currently writing the seven trumpets and

LOSING MY MIND.

(8:43) Y'ALL I'M BACK FROM WORK WITH TWO NEW FIC CONCEPTS (well, one new one, one might just be implemented into a more casual fic bc the idea itself is really funny but I need an actual plot for it.)

BUT ONE OF THEM REVOLVES AROUND HALLOWEEN SO WHEN I'M DONE ALL OF MY PROJECTS ARE GETTING PUSHED BACK BC THIS IS GONNA BE SOOOOOO FUN.

(also I'm done being sad for rn I gen thought I was gonna get fired today (not at all my fault btw) but I didn't! so yippie!<3)

(9:45) guys idk if this isn't reading as ominous because Im genuinely so desensitized to all things spooky and I've been working on this for like, days straight (again) or if it's not reading as ominous because it's not.

which makes me wanna scream bc that means I'm gonna have to wait A WHILE BEFORE I LET MYSELF ACTUALLY PROPERLY REREAD THIS LMAOOOO (this is actually so annoying)

(2:27) okay so I got distracted for like three hours on this Halloween project but then decided I didn't want to write it so I'm back on Genesis....

Guys...

I didn't know exactly how I wanted the exact end sequence to happen. Like I had a lot of ideas, some I kept.

BUT WHEN I FUCKING TELL YOU GUYS.

I was cursing myself bc I'm allowed to have creative freedom and I made Wendy and Brimmy close bc I just phoned it in idk and I got in to deep to change it but I was like wait no that's stupid why did I do that but then I was like no fuck it we ball Brimmy and Wendy duo it's fine (I genuinely love them ngl, I will be writing them again)

THAT WAS THE WORST THING I COULD'VE DONE BC IT JUST MADE THE SEQUENCE OF EVENTS AT THE END THAT MUCH MORE FUCKING UPSETTING.

I don't know how to cope with this...

Oh also I'm writing 37 rn. We're at 113.5k.

I'm literally almost done. I actually feel sick LMFAOOOO

(2:38) It's not done but I just finished 37. I feel like I'm about to go into shock... I'm at 114k and IN SHOCKKKKK.

Like, I still gotta fill in a few flashbacks and finish up chapter 32, but WOW.

This is like, done. My life is ruined.

(7:05) guys pls tell me how I have just been like in giggle and kick my feet reading ff gear since I finished genesis bc I cant bear to reread and fully finish it tn

and my all of my playlists are cycling through

and Im just like reading this cute lil ff that is HEALING ME after all the shit I just put my cast through

and Baby Kia starts playing. Like my brother in christ it is 7 in the morning…

I am laughing so hard over this I had to sit up and restart one of my playlists bc I cant rn

no one needs to listen to BK at 7am

ANYWAYS after I go to bed (I lowk might stay up to finish reading this fic tho Im on 8/14 and I am NOTORIOUS for picking something up and not sleeping til I finish it if its under 100k (were not discussing this) and I am very invested) I might be MIA all day bc physics labs and my first exam are both due tm.

I probably wont be MIA all day bc I wanna start my halloween project (that all of like two people will prob find as funny as I do, and Im totally fucking fine with that bc I gencthink its so funny.)

OH AND ALSO I decided that this halloween project may be apart of the morning glory/dandelion verse but well get to that when we get there

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

☔ for the ask game!

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

hm i think i've already shared/talked about most of the high concept ones that i don't actually think i'll write, but i do have a roytrent (or quasi roytrent, i hadn't decided if they'd be endgame although it was likely, but it was still largely about them interacting) au with roy in a time loop. i've actually got several time loop fics i love a good time loop

this one in particular though i had a few specific scenes in mind that basically was like. roy is kind of going nuts in the time loop (the fic takes place when he's already tried all the basic stuff; also generally pre-ted/canon) and is now just kind of fucking around at the apathy stage of coping because nothing matters and time is fake and he decides on an angry random whim to try and seduce trent crimm for some hate sex and see what happens only to accidentally get to know him for real but like. it's a time loop. so on one hand, roy's a lot more reckless and less worried about being vulnerable because he feels like it doesn't matter: crimm can't remember and won't tell anyone because he literally can't. on the other hand, any progress he makes is erased at the end of the loop (which currently in the idea doc is a week long), even once roy starts to get to know him for real. the worst part is roy realizing that once he starts to actually like crimm (horror upon horrors) that it's actually way less of a challenge then it should be to get him to open up, not because roy's gotten to know him that well but because it takes a shockingly small amount of time to get through to him if roy's doing it with actual sincerity. the first time roy gets trent crimm to smile at him for real, all bright and crinkly and lopsided--breathtakingly sincere and horribly earnest--he. kind of feels like throwing up. for like, a lot of reasons, especially because trent isn't going to remember this, is he.

anyway in theory it's mostly about roy breaking through the apathy and dealing with some Time Loop Shit + probably some chapters from a very confused trent-of-that-loop's pov, but i hadn't figured out an ending (i have several time loop aus, though mostly tedtrent, and i might have stolen a similar ending from those tbh) and also it didn't quite come together the way i wanted or feel cohesive enough. like i think i'd need to do more on roy's character and backstory to make it really work--how does roy deal with being in a time loop? but it was also supposed to be largely focused on roy and trent's relationship/dynamic late into this time loop stuff rather than the general concept of "roy kent in a time loop" if that makes sense. idk man. roytrent timeloop

asks for WIPs quotes :)

[ilyfynn]

i need to ramble and cope with m y ridiculous wip count that i need to finish in the remaining days of this year so im going to write down some thoughts here shhhhhh no peeking

fw. priority priorite priority . if im lucky i can finish it in 3 days. like. today, tomrorow day after that. ive been wrting ffaster (not forfeiting though) recently because i ve learn t my lesson from heavy overthinking and overedtiign. just. dont do it fynn. dont do it. hence, if i finish the entire day-off scene today then i will be fully ont rack. tomrorow i do christmas and the day after that i resolve and wrpap up. therefore i can finisht htis really fast and then its out of the way an d not on my shoulders

mcythe. second priority priority priotyiy. i must get this done as soon as i can. if i allocate it a week it wil be fine right. three chapters - 2k minimum, so theyll be around 2k each, which is utterly walright. i should be delighted i already have a plan because executing it wil l be fine. so thats 6 days

other fandom exchange thing. still dont know when assignments are sent out so surely im safe for now. SURELY

swapping collab thing. probably a tomorrow thing. im too eepy today i need to mentally recover

lappel ch4. next year i think sob emoji. i need to putllove in lappel but i have 587392847985479287592475987249587 things to do before then

secret sixth option. i will do it. i will do it after mcythe im promising myself im promising myself this is my gift for all my arduous ranked writing this year

SECRET SEVENTH OPTINON THAT WOULD BER EALLY SMART ....... after i finihs secret sixth i will do secret seventh because holy shit

now lets estimate whether i can go home:

fw - +6k. three days of nice ranked writing at home all curled up and cozy? its a dream. surely i can crank hoax-style. especially since this fucking thing has been planned for months

mcythe - +6k. i have no choice. minimum 6k or i have betrayed the universe

collab swap - +5k. we will probably get it done by the end of the year i love statistics sharing its beuatiful

secret sixth option might come this year might not depending on how destroyed i feel after this. how to balance this with exam prep. how. secret sixth option will probably be around 5k becuas ei dont want to go super short but i dont want to explode my brain by writing another, ANOTHER, longer fic. im sorry its too muchfor me rn

therefore worst case scenario +17k best case +22k by the end of the year. 143+17 = 160k WORST CASE SCENARIO I GO HOME LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. now i have to figure out how to balance this with revision but surely it will be walrihgt. surely. surely

fynn try not to sign up for events challenge. fynn try not to start 3749875918734981759873198471985631946913659384 wips challenge

[sun-undone]

i'm finishing up yet another rewatch because when am i not rewatching this godforsaken show and all throughout season 2, i kept honing in on all the times we see JJ with that fucking flask and how it is NEVER ADDRESSED. the most we get are the two moments in 2x01 and 2x03 when Kie's telling him to chill out before school and then when she takes the flask from his hand when she thinks he's asleep.

the fact that the closest we got to any acknowledgement of that being a deeper problem was always framed around jiara???? and now we know from the EW articles that JJ's mental health is gonna be a bigger deal (thank fucking god pates i love you and i never said anything bad about y'all) in season 3, which is the jiara season??????? it's all connected and i truly cannot believe i am praising writers for basic set up and payoff but !!!!!! i really thought the flask was their half-assed way of giving JJ some kind of individual arc when they totally dropped all his other plot lines (restitution and Luke/abuse trauma) but i could not be more happy to be proven wrong.

(i mean, they might be talking a big game now, it all comes down to the actual execution but i'm still so fucking excited that they've specifically mentioned taking a look at the pogues' mental states and it gives me a lot of hope okay)

everyone's already said this but i really think we're gonna see JJ struggling hardcore with being back home and not knowing what his place is as the dynamic of the pogues has changed so much. Cleo and Pope are paired off, since we now have confirmation that she'll be staying with him and his family. John B is gonna be reunited with his father, and he and Sarah have got each other as well. Kie has her parents to go back to, as strained as that relationship is. JJ is very clearly the odd one out.

poguelandia is the first time that JJ has ever been away from the obx. he has never existed outside the bubble of what it means to be a Maybank in the obx. so he's gotta feel so free, right?? he can provide for his family by fishing and they can get by just well enough to survive and live off the land and they have each other, and that's always been enough for JJ.

and if he and Kie gravitate closer on poguelandia like we all think they will, then all of that happiness and a taste of his surf trip dream will suddenly get ripped away from him when they have to go back home, and he's absolutely gonna spiral. he's gonna pull away and deflect and overcompensate with alcohol and use all the other immature coping mechanisms we've seen him use before, and i am so fucking ready for this angst holy shit cause there's just been so much set up for it. the pates love a fast burn so i think we were all kinda worried about the slow burn with jiara, but my expectations are officially sky high. i'm so glad that they're using the established character flaws and insecurities for JJ as part of the angst, and i'm assuming Kie's issues with her parents will be the external force adding onto that and making it even angstier.

it's not mind-blowing writing whatsoever, but after season 2 kinda let us down in terms of giving us insight into JJ's headspace, i'm just over the moon to see that it might've all been a set up for something bigger. they knew they wanted to save the deep dive into JJ's trauma for the jiara season because it's so integral to understanding how JJ receives and doesn't receive love. you can't put JJ in a romantic plot line without addressing all that trauma and self-hatred, and it's something fic writers have created masterpieces about and i can't stop saying it but i am just so fucking happy that the pates are putting it in canon. they really do care about these characters huh

if season 3 ends up being a disaster and the trauma plot line is disappointing as hell then no one saw this i didn't write it you didn't read it

[winxanity-ii]

hey! here to say i’m sorry for the hate and vitriol you received from people angry the character wasn’t white? it’s funny because most media and the world is made for them so to get angry at the few things that aren’t? very entitled but also very fitting for white people

okay, i've been waiting for another ask like this to be sent becasue i'm too shaky to go back to the ones i've had sitting in my inbox for weeks😭, this might be a bit long, but bear with me, i can't help but making sure all points are covered.

so please, welcome how one of my character development moments came to be.... (p.s, sorry for the meme reactions they help me cope/try to remember the entire thing in a more humorous light 🫶🏾)

so basically, the entire issue that pushed me to lashout/get defensive/etc, was because i naively assumed that my thought process would be understood by everyone that came across my book, but in truth, it was more of a miscommunication issue that was exasperated by my using of random signifiers/hair types.

the miscommunications was when some assumed that by me giving the Reader has red hair and yellow eyes, i was assigning characteristics/making an OC, when in reality, i just gave Reader the main characteristics makima—the character who the whole personality is based on—had, which is: red/aurburn hair and yellow eyes.

now, this is where everything went down hill...

see, i tried to do this thing where once in a while, the readers skin tone/hair type was mention/hinted in an insignificant way, like saying:

"You pulled your hair into a bun, the soft curls tangling around your fingers in almost playful resistance; with an annoyed huff, you gave up, letting it fall however it wanted to."

or

"He grabbed your hands, captivated by the way they seemed to fit perfectly in his, unable to stop the adoring comparison; they were smaller than his, the warmth of your sun-kissed skin contrasting softly against his paler shade."

at random, like one moment it'll be curls, the next, straight, etc. ya know? but i also was kinda (read: was in fact) practicing my writing skills overall.

i adore reading—it's one main hyperfixation—so i just wanted to create what i've never had. and my writing style allows me to share this with those who've always felt the same, yet never had the guts/confidence to do it themselves...

anyways, getting back on track, combining the two, i had NUMEROUS angry/upset comments on all the platforms i posted it claiming that i was fishing for reads with a 'fake Reader' and how i needed to put blatant disclaimers that this was a Black OC—yes, you read that right ALL: wattpad, ao3, here, and quotev (especially quotev and here👀).

now, i understand the first part about fishing for reads by using an OC—i've had my fair shares of reading and going "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!" when getting duped by a good ass fic—but what lost me was that there were more anger about it being a 'Black OC' instead of just being an OC at all 💀💀 like WHAT???

i was so confused (and a bit pissed) because there's no way someone the word 'tan' or 'brown' and automatically assume 'black reader' as if other racial minorities doesn't exist.

like, if i really wanted to make a black reader i would have done way more effort to showcase it, not use a flimsy word or two, but let me stop here before i make an entire essay 💀

also, i'd like to give a small apology first on behalf of not communicating better; like stated before, i'm new to the sudden boom off attention and did not know how to properly deal with an huge influx of commentary.

though i knew it shouldn't have bothered me, the more negative ones stuck out more, so i distanced myself from interacting in general so i wouldn't have to see them at all.

i'll still be distant, but i'll do better at showcasing my appreciation in other ways ❤️❤️

but yeah, that's what happened, but no worries, i just had to suck it up, take a lil break and get back on my writing shit 😎 bad days don't stop these 'tismic delusions ❤️ see you guys soon...

[stillmonsterz]

god i love u fr

anw so— birds of a feather quite literally fucked up my day (in a good way) like im so invested into this story and im just in awe of the level of literacy in the way u write and im kinda taking some notes and learning from u in a way?? i mean that in a very appreciative way and i think ur genuinely one of a kind absolutely gem writer on this app like i could go on and on abt the way you write your characters and their chemistry w each other like ugh im eating it up im so full

so onto the actual fic, WHAT THE FUCK RIKI?? when i catch u riki istg, my heart SANK at that last part like i knew something was up bc he hasn't caused anything in a while and that was like a bullet sized dagger straight through my heart jfc. he had me all bamboozled and im actually feeling rage at the way mc showed vulnerability to him only to be backstabbed by him and now he's like dragging her w a noose around her neck— it's insane how he immediately dismissed mc and jumped the gun at how she could only be lying like that part just made him go from my fav character to my most loathed character. also suddenly the few mentions of riki being 'cute and evil' compared to everyone else makes so much sense, and tbh i don't trust that he'd stay quiet abt those ss he's just gonna be bored and leak them after a while i feel like.

oh and i cant forget abt the jay scene in the hotel GOD i had such a viceral emotional reaction to every dialogue they said— my brain is thoroughly jumbled, a smut scene on ecstasy could never compare to the gut wrenching situationship break up that was. if i may be honest, jay's a pussy lmao wdym you can't be wrong and admit you're not even half as bad as u thought lol anw he's going straight into the complicated men box. sorry that was me trying to cope w the fact that all of the progress jay and mc made was just gone like that and it's all back to square one now, i can't deal w that loss rn im fr mourning over it. there's just a lot to say abt that scene it might be my all time favorite piece of fanfic i've read in my life, im losing my mind at the contrast between mc wanting to savor the moment and make it last longer while jay's trying to get it over with bc i know that he knows if he takes as much time as he'd like, he'd actually realize he loves her and that's just too much of big boy feelings for him (im bullying him too much bc im so sour rn)

also the reveal w jake dealing w addiction was eye opening, like now im rethinking back to all the times he's been fidgety and including that recent scene w mc when he comes out of the restrooms, god i was dying for the mc to just get in there and ivestigate around BUT SHE DIDN'T im so pissed. jake's definitely shown some cracks in this part and i can't wait to see him be vulnerable to mc and be honest for once, he's hiding too much and i still don't trust him i can't lie.

and i think we might be only skimming the surface w the other members, i weirdly adore sunoo lmao he's such a cryptid being, and tbh the only good thing that came out of this was sunghoon and lily being a maybe healthy couple, i love love that scene w him and lily it's such a sweet and cute moment in between all the shit mc's digging herself in lmao. i don't think i have an opinion on heeseung yet other than he obviously cares for his members, or at least the kc's reputation, and has his bearings together enough to tell the mc straight up abt all of that. also jungwon.... why do i hear boss music.... LMAO but honestly the bit where it mentioned that he got shit on everyone combined w the ending had me clawing at the walls, he's gonna be important later on and im feeling the nerves crawl up my spine even though he's never shown up once in this part, im that scared of him 😭

im terrified at what's to come, like actual dread on if riki's abt to spill everything to jay and if jay will find out and— this is too overwhelming and my mind's so cluttered lol. anw im not gonna speculate anything rn for my health but im gonna write this last paragraph in appreciation for the way you write morally gray characters, like just completely blown away by how complex and unpleasant they were written, and i mean unpleasant bc i fr know some ppl who'd act this way, it's bone chilling. granted not to the extent these characters are but it's still enough to take me back into the headspace and social circle in my younger years, just the deep regret crashing all over me again lol. not to say this was horrible no no quite the exact opposite this is the most fun and absorbed i've got from a fic in a long time, this left such an impression on me that it sneaks into the back of my mind all the time, which amplifies everytime i open this app just to scroll and i always unconsciously search ur user to see if you've updated or not.

last one i promise, thank u sm for writing this fic and all ur other fics, i know and i can tell when a writer has literacy in their heart ur up there w my forever favorites. can't wait to see it all unfolds and im hoping the mc have some sort of a good ending, fingers crossed 🥲 (sorry for this wall of text also lol)

Putting my answer under a read-more

First of all, please don't apologize for sending large asks like this. I honestly love it when people have a lot of things to say about my works. It makes me feel as though I've created something rich enough that it can be discussed.

like im so invested into this story and im just in awe of the level of literacy in the way u write and im kinda taking some notes and learning from u in a way??

Thank you so much for this...I think I can attribute this to me reading. I read almost every day, and I only read things that I enjoy.

also suddenly the few mentions of riki being 'cute and evil' compared to everyone else makes so much sense, and tbh i don't trust that he'd stay quiet abt those ss he's just gonna be bored and leak them after a while i feel like.

I sort of wanted to emphasize that anyone who would join the Karma Club would inherently be predisposed to doing horrible things for their own enjoyment. Also, as in real life, sometimes the nicest people can do horrible things. People are far more contradictory than we give them credit for. That being said, no spoilers on what he'll do with the screenshots. It's been fascinating to see the revulsion towards Riki's actions compared to what Jay has done to the MC.

if i may be honest, jay's a pussy lmao wdym you can't be wrong and admit you're not even half as bad as u thought lol anw he's going straight into the complicated men box. sorry that was me trying to cope w the fact that all of the progress jay and mc made was just gone like that and it's all back to square one now, i can't deal w that loss rn im fr mourning over it.

If it makes you feel any better, they aren't really at square one. Square one was Jay harassing her nonstop because he truly was disgusted by her, in as equal measure as he was fascinated by her. Like he said, he now doesn't even know if he hates her anymore. So even though it seems like they've gone to the beginning, this is new territory for both of them. Jay is a huge pussy, though. He calls Jake a pussy, but Jake has made more genuine attempts to get close to Y/N than him LOL

god i was dying for the mc to just get in there and ivestigate around BUT SHE DIDN'T im so pissed. jake's definitely shown some cracks in this part and i can't wait to see him be vulnerable to mc and be honest for once, he's hiding too much and i still don't trust him i can't lie.

It's good that you don't trust him. At that point, Heeseung had already told Y/N to just be nice to Jake, so she didn't want to bother him. Heeseung essentially told her that she was part of the reason why Jake relapsed, so she doesn't want to toe the line.

i don't think i have an opinion on heeseung yet other than he obviously cares for his members, or at least the kc's reputation, and has his bearings together enough to tell the mc straight up abt all of that. also jungwon.... why do i hear boss music.... LMAO but honestly the bit where it mentioned that he got shit on everyone combined w the ending had me clawing at the walls

No spoilers, but Jungwon will come into play. Something happened in the earlier part of birds of a feather that will have an effect on what happens in Part 3.

im gonna write this last paragraph in appreciation for the way you write morally gray characters, like just completely blown away by how complex and unpleasant they were written, and i mean unpleasant bc i fr know some ppl who'd act this way, it's bone chilling. granted not to the extent these characters are but it's still enough to take me back into the headspace and social circle in my younger years, just the deep regret crashing all over me again lol.

Thank you so much! And yeah, I definitely drew from my high school experience for some of this. The only other time I've ever done that is for Tired of What We Are, and I think you can see some of the parallels. Not to say that fluff is unnecessary (I do plan on writing something cute) but it's just fun to play round with people who are morally questionable, and who revel in their bad traits at times. Not so fun to experience it yourself, though.

thank u sm for writing this fic and all ur other fics, i know and i can tell when a writer has literacy in their heart ur up there w my forever favorites. can't wait to see it all unfolds and im hoping the mc have some sort of a good ending, fingers crossed

Thank you so so much. I took a long time to answer this because I wanted to keep this ask to myself. Whenever someone sends me a longer ask, I read it over and over again. I wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible. I really do love writing fics, and I'm grateful that people are willing to read them. Thank you for all of the kind words you've written, and for taking the time to read my fic!

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

I gotta see some Secret Saturdays content from you because I haven't even though about that show until I read your bio there. I used to looooove that show, I was obsessed with cryptids and paranormal pseudoscience and all that fun stuff, and when the Secret Saturdays first aired I was so pumped! Please tell me you have something to say about that showw? Do you miss it? Did you make and killer OCs for it like you do everything?!

I loved this show sooooooooooo much, it made me look stupid. I think it was like 2008 when the show started and I had never heard of a cryptid until I watched that show. The whole Science Family protecting monster creature dudes and even adopting them screams found family, you know I'm drawn to that like a moth to a flame. Plus, I loved how Zak and Fisk we just sweet little dudes that were brothers and got into trouble, like I loved them, They're my fave character out of the whole cast. Komodo and Zon are cool, don't get me wrong, but my boys are my boys, I'm sorry, I don't make the rule. (I totally make the rules)

But I will not let y'all catch me slippin on Doc and Drew, the were couples goals. They're still couples goals. I love how they have their little disagreements and their banter and witty flirting and still be badass like crimefighters??? Because shiiiit, they're like canonically badass, like black belts and ray guns and hand-to-hand combat, hello??? I loved that. AND THEY SPAR TOGETHER?!?! BABE, SAY LESS. (also Doc is so fine, I know, Gilly has a type, boo boo booooo-)

I realy liked when they interduce Doyle, too. Like woah, wtf okay, Zak's Mom Trauma Hour, she lost her parents in the Himalayas and then was separated from her baby brother in a blizzard- wooooooah, didn't expect that but it made me feel so hard for Drew. He ultimately became such a cool and sweet Uncle to Zak through, so everything worked out in the end.

And Argost. My man V.V. Argost was such a campy villian, I adored him. His theatrical vibes, his hamminess, his autistic ass stance. And his gay little spiderman henchman, too. Yeah he might have tried to groom a child (yeeesh) but he was funny as shit about it, and he ended up being a yeti???!?! Okay, jumpscare, but that was dope! I loved it!

I don't know why they had to kill off Van Rook though, but his voice was super annoying, so I'm glad he died. :)

I would love to see a reeboot or spinoff or something, like I wanna write a fic about Zak growing out of his old friend group and slowly wedging himself into a new one over Visit of the Week fics. Maybe go into some stuff regarding Zak's relationship with his family, how the family copes with him not being around as often, new school, new life, no cryptid powers, maybe new differnet powers. Fuck it, I'll throw in a warewolf if it makes things interesting. I just really like these characters and this universe, and It'd be cool to see it expand and change.

Also Ben 10 and the Secret Saturdays canonically share the same universe, and I never even knew there was a crossover episode.

[urproblematicfav-ao3]

I wanna talk about getting Alastor pregnant now lmao

Anyway babbbbyy tim because I never gonna actually write this shit~~~~~🎶

CW: graphic pregnancy discussion, miscarriages, child abuse/attempted baby murder, etc etc-

So whatever the fuck this is would take place after my show lion au/overhaul fic (another reason why I'll probably never write it lmao)

Alastor and Charlie are already married and have been together for like, 5-6 years at this point. Initially Charlie wants a baby, and Alastor is like "ok. I'm not doing any child rearing tho." And Charlie tries to do a Creation magic on them both to give Alastor a dick again(he is so uncomfortable with it but does it anyway because it makes Charlie happy) and herself a functional womb, however both because Hell is just completely antithetical to Life as a concept and the fact that the type of Creation that Lucifer (and subsequently Charlie) does is a bastardized version of the actual thing, it just......rreeeallly doesn't work out well.

Long story short, Charlie barely makes it anywhere and miscarriages super early on. She handles it on her own(with Vaggie's help) and tries to be Normal™ about it but Alastor obvi finds out.

Alastor: Why didn't you tell me and let me help? Do I really come across as that callous after all this time?

Charlie: It all happened pretty quick. Also, I'm gonna so honest. I genuinely was worried you might have tried to eat it.

Alastor: Eat it?! I wouldn't eat our miscarried baby?!?

Charlie: Oh. Well, that's good-

Alastor: I'd taxidermy it in a jar and put it on my shelf as proof of my sexual conquest.

Charlie: There it is.

Anyway, plan 1 didn't work, off to plan 2~

Roo finds out Charlie wants a baby, and offers to do it all over again to help. This time, Alastor's getting a womb, and Charlie's getting a temporary dick. Mostly because it's easier, Alastor already had all the correct parts + a heat cycle, and it's less difficult to just give Charlie some baby making juice instead of trying to force her Hellborn body to do something almost all Hellborn can't even do.

Unlike Lucifer, Roo has ACTUAL Creation magic and experience with pregnancy and babies. Eve was the first bitch to get a period and pop a screaming wet little alien out her pussy, after all. She's basically the First Midwife lmao.

Alastor spends his heat with Charlie at his personal house in thw woods, gets sooooo goddamn knocked up, and then starts waddling around.

They're obviously having twins because I'm annoying. However, I view it more like how animals tend to have litters. But also, humans and deer only really have one at a time so like, lmao thats not scientifically sound.

Alastor also has PMDD so being pregnant actually stabilizes his hormones in a way that makes him feel like he's not insane for half the year. It manifests different for him because he's not human, so instead of being crazy for 2 weeks out of the month, he's just deeply deeply unwell for his heat/rut cycle which lasts months. (Is this because my mom was lowkey using pregnancy to cope with her undiagnosed pmdd/misdiagnosed bipolar. Maybe a little. Shut up.)

Al gets big pretty quickly, and his frail ass deer body can't handle it super well. He basically can't walk on his own before he's remotely close to term. He's also deeply confused and genuinely scared of how nice and careful everyone is, especially considering how much he sucks and how many bridges he's burnt in his life. Husk in particular is basically on 24/7 baby protect mode all thw time (timeline wise: husk has been out of his contract with Al for like 3 years and their technically on equal ground. That's the main reason it freaks him out so bad, because he absolutely fucked Husk over and now Husk is being nice for no real reason. Plot twist Al, the reason was because he loves you.)

He also gets proper tits. Beforehand he was just EXTREMELY flat chested, like definitely some fat there but not much. Now he's got like, A-cups. He's both very happy with it in a gender euphoria way but also bothered by being sexualized for it. (Vox immediately goes "whao.......tits!!" And Alastor literally starts crying because he's being incredibly vulnerable by opening up about being pregnant with Vox instead of hiding it like he was planning. Vox immediately apologizes and explains that he's just really used to doing that when he or Val see boobs and it wasn't actually a sexual advance.)

On the subject of Weird Pregnancy Symptoms. Did you know your pussy can change color?

Anyway, other plot stuff would happen. Mostly Husk being sad he didn't get to have babies with Alastor and lost love shit. Charlie planning babies rooms, Lute begging Adam to let her knock Vaggie up next, something something Angel makes a joke that Alastor is a fat bitch and Charlie says "if you call the mother of my children a bitch again I'm gonna throw you out a window."

Alastor gives birth, c-section because he refuses to push or put any effort into it. You're cutting him open, and scooping them out goddamn it. He initially wanted to go to Rosie, and just chainsaw that shit but Angel and Charlie convinced him to just go to Val's clinic. (Val runs most of the sexual healthcare in hell, its a whole thing.) and Val definitely helped deliver a few babies in his life.

Immediately after the babies were born, Alastor first thought is "why are my kids white." Despite him being mixed, and Charlie being alabaster. Like bitch. The fuck you mean why.

In a less funny way, he gets extremely upset when they try to hand them off to him. Repeatedly saying "This isn't mine, I don't want it." Charlie is....pushy? She doesn't mean to be, but she's too excited about the babies to fully register how deeply Not Okay Al is in the moment. She pressures him to hold them, and the second he's left alone with them after they get home, he immediately tries to kill them.

He's caught quickly. Nothing bad happens, the babies are okay and not actually hurt. But they're separated from him. Charlie quickly figures out that she fucked up very badly, and quickly takes over as the main parent. Alastor already told her from the start, he had no interest in child rearing or being a parent.

Alastor is immediately filled with so much guilt over what he did. He didn't mean it, he was just dealing with a lot of postpartum depression and genuine psychosis and no one was taking it seriously. On a stupid animal instinct level, he feels like a terrible mate and doe because he tried to kill his goddamn babies. Charlie tells him he did perfectly by giving her two beautiful, heathy children all because she asked him to and that his job is done. Alastor takes this, but the guilt is still there.

Al continues to be depressed, Husk and Angel comfort him. Husk is baffled that Al is so genuinely and sincerely breaking down over something like this, that man is a sociopathic liar and now he's suddenly crying over murder. Angel tells him about how Molly did something similar with her twins back Topside, and that its actually super normal and common for woman. Something something, it takes a village.

Alastor loves his kids, but he never experiences that Mother's Love or Parental Instinct that everyone talks about. He'd protect them with his life and they mean a LOT to him, but that magical motherhood spark never comes.

NOW THE BABIES💖💖💖💖💖❗

I already made a post about it, but the twins are a piebald deer and a sphinx cat. Neither of them have names yet because Names Are Important and I haven't figured it all out. They also have to have their Sinner names too, because despite Hellborn not working by Sinner rules where Names Have Power, Alastor is still uncomfortable with his children having their birth names be public. So they'll get Names and then the thing they go by.

The sphinx kitten doesn't have much lore yet, the deer one came first so we'll start with her.

So she's piebald, which is like a generic mutation or something in animals that makes them have white fur mixed in, I was trying to see if calico deer were a thing. I guess the human equivalent would be albinism? Idk. She's definitely black like Alastor is tho. She takes 1000000x after him in every way.

She has white hair with tiny blonde/brown spots, and black eyes like Charlie. The pregnancy wasn't exactly smooth, despite Roo's help and she came out with a problem with her spine. She can walk, but it hurts her so she mostly crawls around. She'll eventually get a wheelchair that she uses most of the time. She's very small and has Tired Baby Eyes syndrome for the entirety of her life lmao.

I mentioned in my Alastor body lore hc post on my main acc, about how his antlers are apart of his ears and brain as his radio antenna. Same goes for her. She's also autistic(and selectively mute), and extremely sensitive to sound like Alastor is. She isn't born with her antlers but the things in her brain and ears to receive signal is still there. She was a very, very fussy baby because she could hear ALL the electricity in Hell, all the time. She was a bit of a velcro baby to Alastor once he came back to parent them(after spending like 6 months in the woods) because he can project music and stabilize her signal to drown out other noise. (This scene would be a HUGE emotional moment. I'm annoying so like, the music he plays for her is Atonement from the Journey soundtrack, which is the exact song he uses to manipulate Charlie in the first part of this entire story. IT'S ALL CONNECTED BABEY)

Also joke that when Alastor was pregnant, Vox would threaten to send her ads in utero so she'd love him and want Voxtech when she was born. Alastor was immediately like "god why".

She's not rotten like Alastor is. Her meat and blood is normal because she's actually a living thing. But she's still got radio robot parts like him.

Also, you know that thing baby deer do where they flatten themselves like a pancake until their moms show up as a survival technique???? Yea, imagine that but it's a toddler thats going dead weight pancake mode in Alastor's arms the second theres a loud noise.

Vox is extremely good with the kids. To a point that it actively enrages Alastor. Vox is very good at the "whao :0000 omg!! Did u paint that?? whaooooo. u know my husband is a artist and I can definitely tell that u got talent." He's super sweet and a great babysitter and the only person Alastor would trust wholeheartedly to take his kids.

Alastor is sorta....cold? He's not mean or actively abusive. But he's bad at pretending to care about the stupid shit a kid figures out. So it hurts for him to see how good Vox is at doing that part. Charlie makes up for his coldness, but he knows that theres a block because of his NPD and it upsets him that he can't seem to just will it away.

He also absolutely 100% plays favorites. The deer is his fav, and he loves her more than the sphinx cat. He's not mean to the other one, but his fawn takes priority every time.

Anyway. I think thats it?? Idk. This was very rambly and self indulgent and now I'm uncomfortable but ya know. Stuff✨

When I eventually make Charlie get Alastor pregnant in my fic that I haven't written any of,

context: no one in my family has freckles and then my mom got pregnant with me and suddenly, at like 21 had freckles. Her doctor was like, "idk :// u are a woman....are u should u just didn't notice.....people dont just get freckles" And then I was born, and I had freckles. I forcibly gave my mom freckles. Pregnancy is wild y'all

[wroteclassicaly]

This Is For You

(Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Summary: With Hawkins burning, you only want one thing, or rather, someone—Eddie Munson.

Warnings: Language, smutty content, vaginal fingering, NSFW, dominant Eddie, mentions of injury and blood, light choking, & oral sex.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

A/N: I have no idea what this trash is, other than me letting my emotions and my dissociation pour into my writing. I’ll most likely do a part two if anyone is interested? Thanks for all the love on my first Stranger Things (Steddie x Reader) fic! Sorry if this is all over the place. I’m a few episodes from being finished with the series!

Also, it’s obviously obvious that Eddie lives in this fic, but he and the reader are going through some heavy shit (because who wouldn’t be), so it’ll be dark and heavy. Anyways, sorry for my rambling. Enjoy! - Kristen <3

~*~

“I don’t want to talk…” Is all you say, once again looking, not at him, but straight through. If you permit even a morsels glance, you’ll run like a fucking coward.

How ironic.

To say that it’s unnerving to him, that would be a liar’s goldmine. The beat in which you do not miss, fingers pinching together against a tickling press—you let the vocal bomb off with the loudest give away, mouth wet, yet pursed. “I want to fuck.”

His brows raise and those outrageously, chocolate brown orbs widen, hand curling around his beer bottle’s neck, fingernail shredding beneath its faded label. A deep sigh paddles his chest, thoughtful. “Y/N…”

He knows.

You aren’t doing well. An understatement, to be exact. In the nineteen years Eddie Munson has known you, boldly asking him for any kind of sexual activity is so far left field, that the monsters and the damned Upside Down makes more sense. You’re not giving him any eye contact, zilch emotion, with the exception that your request brings in—a vapid heat surfing its tail. You push passed the long haired rocker, but he grasps a ring clad hand around your wrist, those fucking eyes drilling holes deep enough that you can open your own rift in them.

It’s a comfort you’re not ready to accept, to indulge in. Yanking your limb from Eddie’s grasp, you try to swallow over the sting that piles into your throat when his hurt immediately filters in, distorting his beautiful features.

“Y/N-“

“Can we or not, Eddie?”

More pained directed your way in heaps.

His jaw clenches tightly under pressure, fingers tapping an idle beat across the beer bottle, tongue suctioning over his teeth, a crude noise echoing around the cabin. He’s avoiding your stare, mulling. It’s your turn to heave a hefty groan, already heading back out the open doorway, in which your bestfriend occupies. He doesn’t give you a response.

“Yeah, whatever. You know what? Fuck this, plenty of fish in Hawkins, am I right? I mean… they might be fried now, but…” A humorless laugh leaves you, bogging your throat into a constricting silence.

There’s a coping mechanism coming forth. Make jokes about the aftermath Vecna draped over your shithole town, in order to survive its ever lasting effects. It hasn’t been four weeks, but it’s a lifetime in your mind. It’s a minute too many. And you refuse to fucking think about anything that won’t make you forget.

“Stop it.” Eddie bites back, suddenly way too close to you. His worn sneakers in your eye-line.

Did he even close the door?

“I’m not doing anything.” You simply give, unfolding a tad.

Anger. Something Eddie has picked up since his own time underneath Vecna’s world, his… ‘death’. Both of you can’t go back to the way things were—all changed the moment Eddie attempted a deal with Chrissy and she died in his trailer, shredding both your worlds apart to the truth. You clench your eyes closed as Eddie chucks the beer against the wall, murky liquid pooling across the floor, brown glass shattering, Eddie’s breaths hotly fanning your soaked mouth.

“You’re a bitch.” Like a doe being mortally wounded, you feel that shock ice your blood, pulse beginning to race. It’s easy for your lids to flicker open, letting sunlight and Eddie flood your vision.

He’s so close now that he’s writhing in his panting rage, his borrowed shirt gaped open—scars from battle easily spotted. The deeper ones are still bandaged, kept away. Those dark irises are gone, a black cavern, caving to his animalistic pain, his primal want. Want for you to put an end to this, to be you again so he can find himself, for this not to be lonely as hell, and fuck—yeah, to bury his dick so deep in your pussy he isn’t sure where he ends and you fucking begin. But that road block is stopping him, halting violently to your trembling accusations.

“This is your fucking fault! Fuck you!” You shriek, purposely letting yourself shove at his chest, no other words dubbed appropriate.

You both know it isn’t anyone’s fault. Not human, anyways.

Eddie seems unfazed, sneering. “Oh, baby. If you want me to feel something, then you should try this.” He lifts your wrists into a binding bite, splaying them over his healing wounds, ones you purposely avoided.

You struggle to speak, a rebuttal caught on your tongue. Eddie backs you into a quick swivel, glass shards crunching beneath your feet. You collide into a wooden wall, dust billowing out around your frames, Eddie caging you in. Your hands are unable to escape his hold. You’re battling if you really want to or not.

“What’s wrong? Did I finally get some emotion out of the goddamned robot girl? Hmm?” His nose smudges yours, fingertips—damp with beer—leave your wrist bone to brush over your lips, pushing, pulling, exposing your teeth.

Eddie isn’t sure what the hell he’s doing, but he’s tired of pretending everything is fine. If you’re going to insult him, then he isn’t hanging onto one notion of sanity for this moment. The guy he was before all this—a freak, simply judged, turned into a wanted man that barely survived a demonic underworld, covered in their reminders—that kid would’ve tried to reason with you. But as you don’t make any move to tell him to kiss your ass, to equip a comeback, Eddie knows. You’re different people now.

That languid beat begins to pummel your rib cage with a sharpness, winded air getting trapped inside your lungs. Eddie lets his fingers leave your mouth, wrapping a hand around your throat in a simultaneous drag, his remaining one left to keep your wrists in position, his cool rings leaving a slight imprint behind as he uses his digits to tilt your neck, bending his tall silhouette to meet your flesh. He sinks his milky white teeth in, licking an angry bruise that blooms on the break-away. A hollow snap, a welcomed distraction. You fall, Eddie catches. He nods an out to you—it slips, you drown in acceptance.

Eddie releases you, stepping back, observing you as if you’re prey and he’s about to work a way to keep you. The air is on fire and you’re suffocating, falling over the invisible line, a territory that not even Vecna himself can touch. Silent communication is familiar to you and your bestfriend, and it’s unchanging—even now. Like you’ve just been strung up, Eddie your puppet master, you follow his step-backs.

There isn’t nerves, but the daze of a heart stopping descent. Eddie’s voice is raspy and drenched in that naked need to satiate his appetite and yours, those perfect lips parting to utter off a one word command, “Kneel.”

Like led is poured into your kneecaps, you drop in front of your bestfriend, palms slipping across his sternum, hands colliding at your sides, body burning to the brim, tears on your lashes-cold and sticky, matted. Eddie looks like a showman, the front runner for some contest, in which no others hold a candle. He’s unusually quiet, fingers beckoning your mouth to open. You take them down, his jewelry adorned knuckles bumping your nose. It’s not about worry or wondering anymore, it’s a dedication to need and understanding.

You’re still here. Together.

“Good girl.” Eddie is praising, losing himself beneath all surfaces.

Is he really giving in?

On cue, that shared thought process has him stuttering a barely audible question.

“Say you want an out, Y/N. You have one chance right now, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop if I fucking start…” He looks stressed at his admittance towards the last part, meeting you halfway with a crouch.

Understanding.

You lift sturdy hands, your faded polish, scraped nail beds from cuts that haven’t healed completely—to grip that light blue top Steve Harrington had loaned Eddie—ripping it apart down the middle. He doesn’t flinch from your prying engrossment, simply lets you go, his fingers retreating from your mouth in a ‘pop’. You tap a pathway across his wounds, angry and welted, others layered in gauze that is seeping with red crimson. Neither of you may talk about this again, but nothing else matters other than getting Eddie Munson between your thighs. Your bestfriend’s waist trickles around a quaking scrape, jagged inhalation relinquishing its hold on his diaphragm.

Your gifting indication towards any semblance comes in a gentle flick of your tongue over Eddie’s woven scar on his abdomen. You make sure to give every singular uncovered mark your lewd enclosure. No otherworldly power could bring Eddie’s eyes off your easing torture, his vision blurring through the tears.

You know.

These clothes he’s wearing, not even his own—you’re on the precipice of hyperventilation if they’re not gone within minutes. You fist a white knuckle grip into tattered fabric, inhaling him like some wild animal. Aftershave, antiseptic, freshly laundered Harrington clothing, cigarette smoke, and that perfected spice Eddie is fragranced in.

His brand.

His guitar pick is gone, having been given to his uncle until Eddie can claim it, along with his rightful innocence.

Chrissy, this is for you.

And you’re sucked back into that timeframe, beaten up denim beneath your weapons strapped bosom, next to Dustin Henderson, watching as Eddie Munson—your bestfriend, brings Hell and Heaven to their knees in another dimension, forging his own chaos, dedicating himself to this cause in her name. And you? That guilt over being selfishly jealous in an apocalyptic life or death situation, envy towards a dead girl, whom had done nothing to you but enchant someone you’ve loved before you could even speak a fucking sentence—is eating you alive. Eddie is frozen, a deer in headlights. Are you coming back?

It’s a dandelion to a hurricane, nothing within seconds. That hard resolve builds its way back around you, your fingers finding his belt, unbuckling, mouth over his smooth jawline, soaking and scorched, pleading with him. “Fuck me like you don’t know who I am.”

You need to forget again.

Eddie is having an internal crisis in a fleeting, secondary pausing. Can he really take you like need, like he can’t breathe if he doesn’t? Will it mean to you what it means to him? He does know you, more than anything he’s ever known his entire life. That soulmate shit, it exists inside you, the singular absolution that remains the same.

Time seems to sprinkle its eerie thunder across you, searing your skin with goosebumps that cause a jolting shiver. Eddie makes a fist, using it to push your floral shirt above your naval, the intricate pattern on his rings drawing circles around it, making you arch—gravity to a fault, and you’re crumbling. Eddie doesn’t take you to the blanket covered couch, doesn’t trip over himself in eager earnest to find a bed to lay you on. His knees knock you back onto the hard floor, a rug your only cushioning. It smells like pine, mothballs, Spring rain.

Your bestfriend’s unruly hair cascades around your face, his slim waist slotting between your legs, hands finishing the work he started. Your shirt tears in a rather comedic unraveling. It joins Steve Harrington’s garment beside your head, abandoning you to overlook Eddie’s body.

He must be hurting so badly…

You’re the biggest bitch alive right now, Eddie is right about that new nickname. Asking this of him after everything he’s been through—both physically and mentally.

“Try and get rid of me after I fill your pussy up, Y/N.” Eddie says it out loud, as if it’s a secretive thought he didn’t mean for your ears.

You start to speak, but Eddie traces your hand until it opens, fingers tickling your palms—jerking you up into him in a crushing embrace, relishing in how badly it hurts his bandaged form. He yanks your bra clasp, dipping his hold underneath the thin straps, tugging until it falls apart. Your thin cotton pants and your ridiculous looking panties are all that remain.

“I should make you beg me.” Eddie’s voice is so warm that it sounds like it’s sun kissed, flaming beneath the sun’s finest rays. “Should make you get back on your knees for me until there’s bruises.”

That ache of familiarity sizzles, making you tense, thighs squeezing closed. Eddie notices, a shit eating grin invading. His thumb pad grazes your bottom lip, his facial curvature meeting your own, piecing together. A ghosting whisper, Eddie troubled by his uneven breaths, manages. “I’ve never wanted to do anything as much as I wanna fuck you right now.”

You can do nothing but nod, entering a locked and sealed territory, that tension snapping. Eddie brings your mouth to his, one hand reclining on your throat, applying minimal pressure, the other slithering its way down into your elastic pants, bumping you into a dragging lean back. You whimper into his mouth when his hand cups you through your ruined underwear, hips rolling into his touch. Every word, each breath, it all sounds so goddamned sinful that you’re lost to Eddie Munson. Backing onto his haunches, Eddie has your shoes and pants off, immediately lifting your legs around his denim wrapped thighs, making sure you feel him.

You grind yourself against his thick hardness, veiled by two layers of fabric—a low growl cartwheeling off your tone. Your hands slink across his back—encouraged to skate across his injuries, a welcomed peace—finding purchase on that ass. His muscles clench underneath your vice grip, letting you move him. Eddie’s delicious mouth rewards yours with a sloppy kiss, his tongue working for entrance—acceptance immediate. Those noisy licks of tongues over one another—messy.

You get Eddie’s belt open the rest of the way, shimmying his jeans down to his ankles, his foot pushing one shoe off, ankle shaking to remove the other. His hands join yours, lacing through your own, as they dip beneath his boxers’ waistband, peeling them off. Those unshed tears wrap around your throat when you see his legs and torso in full.

He barely made it…

Before he can hook too long to your stare, you admire his width, the length. Your mouth is practically salivating, hungry. And Eddie knows he has you captive. If you don’t talk about it, he can still do this, right? And if you block out how much your bestfriend truly means to you, you can let him inside, right?

He spits into his hand, wrapping it around the warmth, pupils demolishing any brown hint his irises birth—all dark and wavy. His neck is red, like a vine wrapping around his flesh, screaming his urges to take. To have. Amidst Hawkins burning, amongst the destruction inside your psyches, you are both bursting at the seams, threads from your closed cuts threatening to wiggle free.

You want to get lost.

Eddie Munson wants to destroy you.

~*~

You raise your arms, hands running through your hair, completely enamored by reality.

We’re really going to do this…

You’d hoped, prayed, but never expected your bestfriend to agree to this. You’ve been so foolishly fucking blind, apparently. Eddie’s mouth is slightly agape, spit perching on his lips, fingers working overtime as he looks at you—merciful and willing. You don’t wait for instruction, knees raising to a bunch, pulling off your panties and flinging them somewhere across the room. Your thighs drop open, feet planting into the rug—rough against your back.

Eddie mumbles something inaudible, holding himself at the base, those veins clawed out over his right hand, winding into his knuckles, his silver bracelet dangling across that very wrist. You’re holding your breath, painting your fingers up and down your chest, seething in a trembling aftershock.

“Get up for me.” Your first command.

Eddie cradles the back of your head when you reach him on shaky fours, at his feet.

“Convince me why we should do this, Y/N. Show me how much you fucking need me.”

It’s already decided, but you entertain it, appeasing your mouth watering curiosity, hand laying atop Eddie’s, nails tapping against his rings, your lips parting, curling over your teeth, you take him into your mouth, that first salty taste melting into your tongue. You moan, knocking his hand out of the way, squeezing, feeling, letting Eddie show you how to touch him. Nude and worshipping him, Eddie is having a hard time controlling himself from using your mouth, discarding your unknown limits. You try a further distance, that gag ever-so-present, only to be ignored. Eddie’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging harshly on your hair until it aches to an itch at the roots.

When your eyes meet him through the fog, you make it clear you’ll do anything to get to the other side.

“A lady in waiting…” He babbles that nerdy game speak, head dipping back to bare his jugular. “For a true medieval knight.”

There’s my Eddie.

Your mouth is cherry red, swollen, by the time Eddie has to rear back. He wants to fucking kiss that mouth.

It would be okay, yeah? Fuck it.

He nails you to the floor, jaw bone smashing into yours, nose edging yours into a bend, his lips finding you. It’s a frenzied discombobulation, like all air has been vacuumed from planet earth, leaving only Eddie’s breath matching yours pant for pant. Tired and overwhelmed, flooded with trauma that can no longer be discarded, Eddie pulls away, hand splaying above your abdomen, teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you can taste copper—gaining your focus.

“Ask me again, Y/N. Tell me I’m all you fucking need.” He’s damn near whimpering, lost to the possibility of retreating rejection.

He grips your throat with one hand. You swallow against his palming grip, lust drunk. “You know you’re all I’ve ever needed, Eddie.”

Eddie does let out a mewling. You’re giving more than he was prepared for. More than he’s seen from you in weeks. You tug on his long locks, encouraging, tone honey lathered, floating. “Make me come on your fingers.”

“Dammit, Jesus Christ, Y/N.” His bracelet is cool as it trickles along your inner thigh, his firm hand parting you for his feasting.

His rings move patterns—up and down, shaping, mapping, writing some Morse code shit. When he does give into you, it’s a fingertip gliding along your glistening labia, arousal stringing from you. He marvels.

“The sweetest little pussy has always been mine, and no one is gonna take it from me.” He muses, a possessive strength encasing his words, yet he’s still not doing exactly what your body is begging for.

Your back arches, attempting to help you gain an upper hand. You exert yourself, cries softly dying out when Eddie doesn’t give in.

“You could’ve asked anyone to fuck you, but you didn’t.”

He knows.

Eddie’s lips press against your jaw, his fingers finally opening you—warning obliterated—being accepted with a squelching slide. He pushes a little more on your throat to combine, you practically coo at him. He’s never been this hard before, unable to move without that pattering pain. And as you tighten those slick walls around him, his stomach feels the pressure.

You know…

~*~*~**~*~*~

Tagging: @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @lovelylangdonx