#NOBODY SAW JACOB'S FUCKED UP HAND?

[whowantslovergirl]

Why are you here?

Nate Jacobs x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: a lil bit of smut, suggestive lyrics ig, there is so much song fics i deeply apologize, cursing, this is before Maddy but they’re in junior year already, so like beginning of junior year, Y/N HAVING THE MOST SELF RESPECT, Nate Jacobs, mgk song 🤠,italics are flashbacks,^ this means start the song 💋 hope you enjoy my lovers 🤍

euphoria masterlist

Summary: Nate and Y/N are so bad for each other

posted: February 12,2024

Nate and Y/N broke up two months ago and Nate still thinks they’re together. She can never move on. He definitely cannot move on. They are terrible for each other and they know that but they still find each other. ^

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

You were at some random party. Maddy forced you to come. You were having fun until you saw him, your ex, on some other girl grinding on her. You can’t be mad. You had a date but still why is he with another girl.

_____

It was 12:05 you guys were both in the bathroom.

Fucking.

You can’t believe you did this.

“I can’t believe I did this! Get out of me Nate!” He finished and you were freaking out. You put your hands on your face freaking out. The main reason you were mad is because this is not the first time this happened.

“Calm down Y/N it’s not that serious.”

“To you! I promised myself that this bathroom thing will not happen again!” You rushed out of the bathroom leaving him.

I'm not myself

I'm not myself when you're around, no

Can't be helped

We are insane, that's just the way it goes

Nate and Y/N are back together for the tenth? time and it’s good for now.

Until you saw him with Maddy.

_____

“Maddy, Nate? Are you serious?”

“It’s not that serious Y/N.”

“You always say that! But if it was my ex you would be throwing a bitch fit!”

and he did.

**Flashback**

“Why the fuck were you talking to him!” Nate was screaming because you talking to your ex.

He accidentally bumped into you and said sorry and you said it’s fine.

That was the whole conversation.

“I’m sorry is two words talking now?! All I said was it’s fine!”

“Bullshit!”

You rolled your eyes. “Unbelievable Un fucking believable!”

**End of Flashback**

I'm a demon in the night

She's an angel with the white

Told me keep on all the lights

I'ma show you what you like

Two months later. Everyone is at a party.

And Nate is trying to get back together again.

“Come on you know we’re perfect for each other!”

“No we’re really not Nate. Please leave me alone. I have pepper spray and a pocket knife in my bag.” Then you walked away trying to leave.

Help you put back on your clothes

Make sure nothing's on your nose

Ain't even tell my closest homies, nobody knows

“We’re really not right?” Nate said smirking. The bathroom shit happened again.

“Shut the fuck up Nate.” You said rolling your eyes. He can see you struggling with your dress and helps you.

“Oh I bet you’re gonna brag about this huh? ‘Oh yea I fucked her again!’ right?”

“I actually never told anyone about this.” You just roll your eyes and left. That is such bullshit.

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

“Fuck!” You said finishing. He groaned and slipped out of you. “We really need to stop this nonsense Nate.”

“Why Y/n? Nothing is going wrong.”

“To you Nate! I promised myself I wouldn’t do this shit with you again!” He tried to speak but you just left. He smirked and left slightly after.

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

“We can never be friends. We are way past that point.” You said while in Nate’s room. He asked if you guys can talk and you said yes.

“Yea friends don’t do what we do.” He said laughing.

“This isn’t funny Nate! We’re done. I’m done.” You said trying to walk out but he grabbed your arm. “If you’re done why was I inside you last night?”

“Ugh you’re an asshole!”

“I know. So I’ll see you in the bathroom Y/n.” You didn’t say anything and left like always.

I couldn't cry

I need to smoke, I'm feeling sick inside

From seeing you next to a friend of mine

We didn't speak but I read your mind

Both telling lies, our alibis didn't work this time

It’s been six months since you guys last fucked in the bathroom. And you’ve been taking care of yourself not worrying about Nate. You’re with McKay just talking, not anything special just catching up as two friends.

Nate saw this and just walked out, mad that you’re not talking to him or laughing with him. He’s so fucking angry.

I'm a demon in the night

She's an angel with the white

Told her keep on all the lights

You can show me what you like

“Hey angel.” You jumped because you didn’t know he was in there, in your room. “Nate get out.”

“You know you don’t want me to do that. I just wanna see you.”

“Well I don’t want to see you so get out.” He starts getting closer and the back of your knees hit the bed causing you to fall on the bed. He slowly comes on top of you and starts kissing, biting, and licking your neck.

“Nate stop.” You said pushing him away.

“You don’t really want me to stop do you?” You just stay silent and he takes off your shirt then his own.

“Ima show you what you like baby.”

Help me put back on my clothes

Make sure nothing's on my nose

Can't even tell my closest homies, nobody knows

Nate and Y/n are now dating (again) but secretly this time. You didn’t want the backlash from your friends and Nate was going with it because you told him too. He couldn’t give less of a fuck.

You guys are about to go to a party but got occupied with each other. Before you were about to go. “Wait Nate, you have stuff on your nose.” You said as you wipe the ‘stuff’ off his nose.

“Thanks baby.”

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

Nate and Y/n broke up again. They were at a party, saw the other with someone else, 12:05 hit the clock and they were back in the bathroom.

“We really need to stop Nate!”

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

You were calling Nate seeing if he’s busy and he picked up immediately.

“Hey angel.” You roll your eyes. “Hi Nate.”

“Why are you calling me?” You can hear the tiredness in his voice but you ignore it.

“I was saying that it’s over like forever. And I’m probably gonna go back but I just want some type of closure.”

“Ok…” He sat up in his bed and was about to say something but you beat him too it. “So bye Nate.”

Yeah, I know that I said I was at home

Okay, yeah, you caught me

I thought that you said you were all alone

Look at you lying

You’re at another party and you saw Nate. He said he was home. You walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder and he turned around looking like he seen a ghost. “I thought you were home Nate. I want to talk to you.”

“Don’t pin this on me Y/n. You said you were all alone. Look at you lying.”

“Shut the fuck up. Now come on I want to fuck you one last time before I actually end this.” His mouth opened a little bit but he smirked.

“Lead the way angel.”

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

After you guys were done. You sat on the sink and he sat across from you on the bathtub.

“Were you serious about you ending things for good?” He said breaking the silence. You just nodded and his head went in his hands.

“I really hate the way you make me feel Nate. We gotta end this for good. The only reason it didn’t happen sooner was because you didn’t want to end. You gotta let go Nate.”

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends

After you told Nate that it was over, he went completely MIA, missing classes, not going to practice. He can’t even fathom that this is happening. He thought you guys were forever.

That Y/n and Nate were forever.

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

An: HSIEJDIDJ ok but if you didn’t get the time placement THIS IS BEGINNING JUNIOR YEAR meaning that it just started so basically Y/n was Nate’s villain origin story 😔 BUT HOPED YOU ENJOYED MY LOVERS 🤍🤍

[mjonthetrack]

R4

Jey sat down on the concrete floor breathing

harshly, he’d long since discarded his bloodied

shirt. “Ima ask you one more time, who was

in that car,” he spoke calmly eyeing the tied

figure sitting in the wooden chair. The man

chuckled spitting blood at him,”fuck you pretty

boy, you ain’t bout that shit.” Jey let out a

laugh pushing himself up standing he nodded

his head,”aight,” he kissed his teeth grabbing

the glock from Jacob’s hand, aiming it to the

man’s knee he pulled the trigger twice. The

man yelled out,”FUCK YOU,” he screamed

out rocking forward. Jacob chuckled licking his

bottom lip,” wrong answer Uce,” he shot his own

gun blowing the other knee. Jey tapped the

man’s forehead with the barrel of his gun,”try

again.” The sound of the warehouse doors

opened and a completely composed Tamika

appeared, she didn’t flinch at the carnage

noting the familiar face from the same gang as

East,”I got him.” Jey searched her face not

detecting any bluff he nodded his head at

Jacob,” take care of this,” he wiped his gun off

on his pants walking to the woman,” where?”

Tamika paused only long enough to see his

abs glistening from sweat she hummed in

acknowledgment,” he was at mamas, I saw him

leave so I followed him, I got him waiting back

at the house, he doesn’t suspect anything I told

him I was gonna go pick us up some food.” Jey nodded his head in understanding,” he

alive?” Tamika sucked in air avoiding a slick

remark,” yes Jey, I didn’t touch him, it’s all

you.” The man nodded calling behind him,”Uce

you got the truck I’m going with Mika,” Jacob

called out in acknowledgment as the pair

left out. When the woman pulled up she

put a hand on Jey’s chest stopping him from

hopping out the car,” not in my parents house,

garage please it would be easier to clean.” Jey

half expecting her to ask for leniency surprised

leaned over kissing the woman’s cheek missing

how she flinched,” you did the right thing baby,

Ima handle it, you just stay here til I come get

you.” Tamika didn’t take orders from nobody,

especially his bobble headed ass but she

decided giving her connection to both men

and how East clearly went to his mama house

out of spite to try something malicious she

put her pride aside staying put. About ten

minutes later two pops rang out and then

Jey came out making a call to his own boys

in the Fatu family he’d already begun running

slowly since he arrived back home with his twin.

Speaking of his twin was suddenly there

nodding to Tamika a rare serious expression

on his face as he spoke with Jey. It was Jimmy

who stood outside whilst Jacob pulled in with

some other tall Samoans,”where are they?,”

came Jey’s voice as he wiped blood off his face,

Jacob grinned,” taking a nice swim, connects

already scrubbing evidence off from the truck

and the warehouse, what’s the deal with

the rat?” Jimmy nodded his head in the garage

making the other members go in to take care of

that, Jacob dapped Jey up clapping his back,”

that’s the fuck I’m talking about G, you handled

that.” “For Z,” Jey said his eyes connecting to

the figure of Tamika getting out her car and

ignoring their voices, she went into her house

slamming the front door. She hadn’t processed

the shit show she’d found herself in, the

betrayal, the woman flung a glass vase from the

kitchen island sending it loudly crashing onto

the wall. “FUCK,” she yelled taking a bat from

her cabinet closet and began swinging it at

anything in reach, the sounds of glass crashing

onto marble tiles sent Jey running in. He

saw the woman crashing out with angry

tears in her eyes, suddenly the ego of being

right to hate that man didn’t taste so sweet

to him. “Ma put it down,” he called out jogging

over he noted the glass about cussing, he

stepped carefully he pushed the bat out of

her grasp his strong arms around her waist

he easily lifted her and moved them to the living

room despite her angrily flailing telling him to

put her down. A few moments later the woman

was rooted in his lap with firm arms around

her waist keeping her still. Tamika cried out

bitterly at the old friend who’d betrayed her,

“I can’t believe I shared a bed with that

treacherous snake,” she screamed out angrily

hitting the back of Jey’s back who clenched his

jaw not happy about the reminder,” he’s

ashes now, it’s over baby.” Tamika scoffed,

“you’re not that fucking clueless, he was

apart of the gang on my mamas side, how the

fuck has this happened, how do I know who

I trust on that side, for all I know they been

plotting on this for a while.” Jacob

finally came inside having left his bloody shoes

on the front entrance,”Ima use a shower, oh

and homie squealed in the end, it was the party

apparently he wasn’t too happy at you speaking

to him, apparently he didn’t know you was

back in town, didn’t like a threat to what

he had going on with Mika.” Jey didn’t respond

but recieved it nodding, “thank you Uce, you

handled it that all I could ask for.” The locked

man nodded disappearing to one of the

bathrooms, Tamika swallowed the bile that

had come up from the anger she had, how

could she miss the signs. “I’m sorry,” was all

she uttered eerily calm, removing herself from

Jey’s lap she caught the brief glimpse of a

familiar purple car coming into her peripheral

she yelled out, jumping she had the strength to

knock Jey down to the ground in time as bullets

sprayed out the front windows, the force

knocked her families portrait from the fireplace

mantle it smashed along with anything else in

the path of the stray bullets. Jacob had run

out in just boxers having heard shots, he spotted

his cousin on the ground safe with the head of

the Diggs covering him with her smaller frame. Jacob was outside tag teaming with Jimmy

firing back in retaliation only managing to take

out a passenger as the car disappeared. Jimmy

ran in yelling for his brother who was shook

up by the sudden connection to the ground and

the woman on him. “Who the fuck was that?!,”

Jimmy said assuring they were okay cussing

at the sight of the home,”fuck Tamika.” Jey was

on his feet inspecting every inch of Tamika

assuring no bullets hit her then he was cussing,”

Jesus fuck, you saved my ass,” Tamika

saw the photo was ruined and she fell to her

knees. Jacob cussed out in realization,” man

T I’m sorry it’s better you’re alive.” Jey saw the

damage the woman’s legs wobbled she was

saved from bruising her knees as his arm

shielded her from falling,” my parents house,”

she screamed out,” I’ll kill them all,” she seethes

lurching forward but Jey kept her close,” we

need to get somewhere safe in case they spin

the block.” Jacob was able to get the paper

photo out as the trio got in the truck the

Samoans came in, Jimmy led the group driving

Tamika’s car to his place with Trinity. Being in

the Samoan territory they had a new ensured

protection, as members of the gang were all

about in arms for their heads of the family and

out of respect for Tamika. When the woman

was inside she avoided the brothers even

Trinity who tried to distract her, instead she shut

herself in a room and called her own father’s

members having them come join with the Fatu

gang. There was victory in numbers as her

father always taught her, the man’s old cuban

link was always around her wrist, she’d had

it altered when she was old enough.

It took the woman all but thirty minutes

to gather herself and face her men, she walked

to the front yard speaking cooly,” the sixth

street was behind this, retaliation, from this

point forward we are no longer connected

to them or any of their allies, if you see them

you know what to do.” Jey lifted his head from

his seat on the front steps already in deep

conversation with his brothers and cousin,

noting the woman’s calm demeanor he

listened as the woman renounced her other

side of the family, declaring green lights on

people she knew her whole life, for what they

did to his cousin and tried to do to them.

“Jey come here,” she called evenly, he stood

joining the woman with arms folded across

his chest,” this is Joshua Fatu, he is heading

the Fatu with his twin,” Jimmy nodded in

acknowledgement. She put her hand on Jey’s

shoulder,” consider from this point forward you

will respect them as you would me, there’s no

Fatu or Diggs anymore, from now on this is

your family, you will ride for your family, you will

die for your family, does anyone have any

objections?!” When the men didn’t argue she

nodded her head,” Jey, it’s on you,” she stepped

back letting him lead to his surprise at what

the woman had done. He eyed the group,” aight

we know our targets, the objectives are clear

get this shit done,” the men cheered and

dispersed together both families. Jey turned,”

you ain’t have to do that,” but the woman was

already inside helping Trinity with something. He shook his head sighing, a cold beer was

offered to him by Jimmy,” we got this bruh,

with the merger in place we got them on

numbers alone.” Solo appeared from inside,”

yo what’s up with Tami, she ain’t speak?” The

twins groaned filling the youngest in who

was napping on the couch.

The following days came and went

until a week passed, Zilla was there now

on crutches cussing at the objects slowing

him down but ultimately angrier he missed

out on his lick back but thanked Jey. Tamika

hadn’t spoken since she went inside that night,

even when Talisua alongside their pops arrived

to catch up on it all. The woman wordlessly sat

witness to their dad officially shifting power to

his sons, when it was over and a small party

came from celebration she excused herself to

the back deck she sat on the bottom steps

angrily eyeing the ground. How could

she have misjudged someone so badly,

she could’ve lost any of them if she wasn’t

more careful. She scrubbed her skin angrily

during every shower since as if to rid herself of

the ghost of East’s memory. Why did she ever

fall into that bitch’s bed, she never had feelings

for Dave, in all honestly her anger at Jey for

leaving fueled her bitter sex and hook ups with

the other man to forget the feelings she always

denied she had. Now he was back, and Dave

was not only gone but the cause behind it all.

Tamika wanted nothing more than to get the

fuck away from all of this but now as always

she was even more tangled in this dead end

life. Tamika heard someone call her name but

no response was what she offered, a hand on

her shoulder triggered her, she shoved them

away standing,” don’t fucking touch me .” She

saw the surprised eyes of Trinity holding a cup

of tea, Tamika sighed apologizing but the

woman took no offense waving it off,” you gone

be alright T?” Tamika quietly accepted the mug

sitting back down ignoring the eyes on her,”

yeah I’m good.” She took a sip of the tea, a new

presence was by her side, a tatted hand on her

knee made her sigh,” not now Jey.” Jey

didn’t move instead bringing her into his arms,

she tiredly accepted defeat leaning into his

large frame. “You did the right thing, you

saved my life as well baby, I owe you

everything.” Finding no comfort in his words

she kept her gaze low,” just take me inside,

I’m tired.”

[delilaahh9]

Step Backwards

September 18th, 2021

4:48pm

It was just a simple run, that was all it was supposed to be. Until there was an uneven part in the sidewalk and down she went with the pop of a knee. Annabelle didn’t feel it until a couple seconds went by, the adrenaline rushing off and her right shin to knee hurt.

No one was around where she runs, because she goes the way Quinn tells her to go, by the golf course.

Then she remembers, she is a two minute walk from yost, it’s in her eye line and there is for sure players that she knows in there.

It took a few tries but she managed to get up with a few groans and walked really slowly but it only took Two steps for her to go back to the ground. She’s so close but so far, but she needed help and decided to call someone.

Luke’s contact came up first, but no answer, then she tried Truscott, then Mackie, finally she called mark but was left with a dead line, her phone was the dead line. “Fuck!” She curses and chucks it to the side, most likely cracked.

She didn’t know anyone who was free right now, but all hope was not lost when she saw a figure walking down the pathway, noticing almost instantly that it was Ethan.

“Ethan!” She shouts and his head snapped up, stopping but then jogging to her.

“Anna, what happened- are you okay” he could see the tears almost spilling out of her eyes.

“No, can you get my brother, please” she pleads.

“Yea of course, stay- Nevermind” he sprints, while she smiled at him almost saying “stay there” as if she can get very far.

Not even 2 minutes later Ethan and Luke came sprinting outside. “Annie, what happened” Luke asks as soon as he is by his sisters side.

“I fell and heard a pop, it hurts- really hurts” She tried so hard not to cry infront of her little brother but the pain was only getting worse.

“We’re gonna take you inside okay- Ethan can you-”

“Yep” the Canadian replies, moving over so he can carry her. Since Luke’s coming out of a minor shoulder injury. “Fuck” she groans when her knee bends.

“your okay, just a minute till you can lay down” he mumbles and carry’s her effortlessly down the path and into the building, straight to the medical room.

“woah what’s going on” the nurse in there asks.

“My knee popped and it really hurts” she cries while Ethan sets her down.

“Let me have a look, boys can you step out for a minute” She asks, Luke was about to protest but they heard coach calling and decided to go back to the gym.

“Call me when your done please” Luke says and exits the room.

The nurse came to a conclusion that is most likely a meniscus tear and she needed to go to the hospital, so they called an ambulance and Luke to come back down. Panic washed over mark when he heard Luke say Anna was going to the emergency room. But he had to stay put, nobody went with Luke especially since there was a game in about an hour.

9:51pm

Around 5 hours later, with waiting and tests and a few mental breakdowns they decided she needed surgery which will be taken place tomorrow morning and she needed to stay in the hospital overnight. Which she was expecting, her parents had come and gone but what she wasn’t expecting was most of the guys time coming into her room.

Ethan, Dylan, Mackie, TJ, Jacob, bordeleau and last but not least, mark.

He seemed the most worried, so Luke let him take his seat next to the bed.

“Do you have to stay here tonight?” Ethan asks while looking at all the different machines.

“Unfortunately, which means I’m gonna miss the game tomorrow- shit I won’t be able to dance” she gasps and just like that when she thought she couldn’t cry anymore.

“Hey hey hey, it’s gonna be okay” mark said and reached out to her hand to hold it.

“I know I’m just.. tired and… tired” they all chuckled and Luke coincidentally let out a huge yawn.

“You guys can go, I’ll be fine”

“Are you sure?” Her brother asks.

“Yes Luke, I’m sure. Turn off the light whoever’s last to go out”

She shifted to get comfortable as they all shuffled out but then she noticed mark zoned out.

“Hey, Estapa time to go” she waved at him, which he then snapped out of his thoughts.

“what- no your not staying here alone” he says softly, which takes her by surprise.

“Mark, I’m gonna be -”

“You keep saying that but I don’t buy it, I’m saying” he states and she knows she isn’t winning this battle. “Fine, but go turn off the light”

He smiles and gets up to shut it off, closing the door then reclining the chair to lay down.

September 19th, 2021

9:20 am

Mark had already been awake since he is usually awake this time everyday, when the doctor came in to start preparing for sugary which he gave mark the lovely pleasure of waking Annabelle up.

“Anna” he says gently, which doesn’t do much.

“ Anna” he says again, she starts wake up very slowly but not much.

“Hey princess wake up” he says louder and this time it worked. Thankfully he didn’t notice the small blush that crept on her face when he said that.

“What?” She groans and looks over at the clock.

“Surgery time” he whispers and smiles. Then the doctor arrived and went thru instructions.

“You should be able to go home by tonight, depends on the swelling and pain.” Doctor explains and they start to wheel her away,

“You got this princess, I’ll be here when you wake up” He says as she waves.

10:45 am

Mark sat in the recliner with his legs shaking as he waited for her to be done which wouldn’t be any time now. Jack wasn’t supposed to arrive in Michigan till the afternon but caught an earlier flight when he heard his younger sister was in the hospital.

He had been sat in another chair at the end of the room with Nico to his left because he wanted to visit her.

“Mark, if you don’t want to stay you can go. We’re here now” Jack says to the boy.

“It’s fine, I told her I’d be here when she was done-” just as he says that the door opens and in comes a very loopy Annabelle who was a giggling mess.

“She’s been laughing for 10 minutes, anything is funny now” the nurse says and leaves the room.

“Woah! You play hockey!” She exclaims and looks to mark then Nico. “Hey kid I play hockey too” T this point he was recording for anything worth showing her later.

“No… you seem more of.. tennis guy” which then everyone laughs.

“Where’s moosey moose” she ask but gasps.

“Im tired” she whispers and closes her eyes. Before they knew it, she was right off to sleep.

11:09 am

Once again she wakes up, but mark is gone and it’s just Jack in the hospital room in the chair next to her.

“The fuck are you doing here” she groans, alerting him that she is awake.

“I told you last week I was coming home today, but I came a few hours earlier because you don’t seem to good”

“My knee feels like shit, this hospital bed isn’t very comfy”

“Well don’t worry, we’ll be home soon, just a couple hours but I gotta tell you something…”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t dance until May” he sighs and her jaw drops.

This is gonna be one hell of a year…

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Commander's Omega"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: alpha/omega, dystopia, sex slavery, forced breeding, mutilation, rape, corporal punishment, fascism, hurt/comfort, power imbalance, mpreg, age gap (38/23), mentions of abortion

Summary: After years of a mass infertility crisis, the United States is overtaken by religious fanatics, and Bucky Barnes finds himself thrust into a brutal world of survival. When he's discovered to be fertile, he's forced to serve as a vessel: a caste of omegas who bear children for the political elite.

Chapter III. Freedom to

Story Masterlist

Before:

First, the president and the ranking fifteen closest in command are assassinated. There’s an explosion that nobody can trace, and just like that, the whole cabinet goes.

Bucky’s halfway through his Wednesday physics lecture when the professor stops what she’s doing and grabs the remote. The tv gets turned on and the one hundred and twelve freshmen in the lecture hall watch it play out on the news with a sense of surrealism.

NYU winds up suspending all classes, and Bucky takes the train home to spend time with his parents. George and Winnie put him up in his old room, which they haven’t yet bothered to empty out. There’s still a poster of Nine Inch Nails on the back of the door from Bucky’s alternative phase. Becca, Trudy and Clair come home within the following week, and the house is just as cramped as it ever was.

That’s how he finds himself at home when the news breaks that Congress has been eliminated. Eliminated, that’s the word they use. Not an assassination. Now it’s a terrorist attack, and the martial law that’s been in place since two weeks ago has everyone in their homes by sundown. But there are already guardians patrolling the neighborhood streets as if they’re the ones in charge.

Bucky gets a text from his bank, notifying him that his accounts have been frozen and will be transferred to his Alpha spouse or next of kin. He's still what-the-fucking that with his sisters when his mom steps out of the room to go call his dad and urge him to come home early from work. All their phones start shrieking with emergency alerts, telling them to shelter in place, that people on the street could be shot.

In the next few hours, Bucky's father comes home, looking wan and disturbed. Bucky can't get him to give a straight answer on what he saw out there to make him so upset, but the occasional pops of gunfire and revving vehicles outside are a hint. Bucky keeps getting text messages from his bank, from the University. When he tries to log into his accounts, he's blocked, and repeat text messages are triggered to his phone.

Becca, Trudy, and Clair are beta: they don't get any text messages.

His mom and dad come back into the living room and join Bucky and his sisters in sitting on the couch and watching the tv. Within hours, the news programs stop broadcasting. The tv shows only static. Within days, the missing news programs are replaced with just one: a state news channel.

The new broadcasts are bare-boned, but they are very informative. The anchor who used to do the six o’clock news comes on for her slot. She sits poised behind the news desk, making no comment for a long minute. There’s sweat visibly beading on her brow, but it’s obvious that she’s trying hard to maintain her composure while sitting in front of the large banner they’ve set as a backdrop. It's a symbol Bucky recognizes from a Christian nationalist group that's been in the news these past few years. "That's ... that's the Sons of Jacob flag," he says.

"Sons of what?"

"Holy rollers," he breathes, dread welling in his stomach. "They have a chapter on campus."

“Good evening,” the news anchor says, when someone or something offscreen prompts her. Her hands clasp tightly atop the desk and she begins cheerfully reading off the news: "As of six p.m. eastern time today, security in the capital has been declared restored," she announces. "The worst of the fighting is suppressed, and recovery efforts are being prepared for deployment in all major cities north of the Knoxville-Raleigh line. In Washington D.C., the government is reported to be secured and solidly in place."

"Oh, thank goodness," Winnie says, but Bucky is frowning at the tv and shaking his head.

"I don't think they mean the US government, mom."

"What?"

"Insurgent forces have suffered devastating defeats, and have been pushed back beyond the North Carolina-Tennessee border. Reports of smaller insurgent camps located in the Pennsylvania mountains are unsubstantiated at this point, but government officials are warning civilians in the Allegany Mountain range to avoid travel. An extended shelter in place order is expected to remain in place for the region."

Bucky looks worriedly to his mother, because he’s not stupid. The newscaster lady looks almost exactly the same as she always had before, only now there's an odd enthusiasm radiating from her; a sort of glassy-eyed, desperate-to-be-believed look that doesn't sit well with Bucky. It doesn’t take him long to learn what that look is, or what it means.

It’s fear. And it means that he should be afraid too.

After:

“Ofsteven, good afternoon.”

Bucky looks up from his seat at the window. Today is the third day in a row that he’s sat there, time spent mostly staring out at the back yard. There’s a black guy who wears beta blue and tends to the flowers and bushes out there. Sam. Bucky's been wondering if he might go down and poke around the little greenhouse that's attached to the kitchen, or if he'd be chastised for getting in the way.

But now Commander Rogers is standing awkwardly in the doorway to his little room, and Bucky snaps to attention. It's odd, hearing himself referred to by this new name. Up until not too long ago, he was called Ofwarren. Then at the red center, it'd been back to James, and now it's back to the goddamn patronymic. “Commander,” he says respectfully. "Blessed day."

The Commander gives him a tight sort of smile. “Blessed day." He steps a little farther into the room. "You can call me Steve,” he offers. "If you want."

"What?" Bucky shifts uncomfortably, realizes that he's not joking. “But ... That’s not allowed."

“I run my household a little differently, you’ll find,” Steve says. “Commander is ..." he makes a face. "It's very formal. I’d prefer it if you called me Steve. Especially since we’ll, erm ... you know. Be getting to know one another better.”

In another life, Bucky would’ve blushed, but he’s been indoctrinated in some ways whether he’d like to admit it or not. He’s used to his role as an object by now. “Okay,” he agrees quietly. "Fine."

He doesn’t want to seem too eager to be breaking the rules, since this could just be Commander Rogers’ way of tricking him, of sussing him out. There are true Believers who get their kicks that way, and vessels like Bucky are already known for rule breaking, criminally sentenced to their roles as broodmares for the state. Steve might just be trying to lure him into a false sense of comfortability by feigning friendliness. Commander Putnam had been that way. The bottoms of Bucky’s feet have scars from his misplaced trust in years past, and he isn’t keen on earning more.

“You can call me Bucky if you want,” he reluctantly offers.

Steve nods, brightening a bit. “Okay. Bucky it is." His mouth quirks and he tilts his head. "I take it that's a nickname of some sort?"

"Yeah. My one sister started it, back when she couldn't pronounce my middle name." He shrugs. "It's what my family called me."

Steve smiles, encouraged. "Are any of them still around?”

“No.”

He's surprised yet again, when Steve makes it clear he's going to join him for lunch.

Bucky'd thought commanders like Steve were too busy to take meals outside their offices. Even now, nearly four years after the institution of biblical law, there's still a lot of work to do: insurgencies to hunt, population crises to handle, people to surveil, torture, maim. Kill. The restructuring of the country is still in its infancy, and just because the iron fist of fascism has closed firmly around their necks doesn't mean there's ever a shortage of work to be done.

Bucky doesn't yet know what Commander Rogers' specific role is, in this brave new nation of theirs, but so far, every Commander that he's encountered has held an instrumental position. He tries to remember that, when his first instinct is to trust Steve's surface-level kindness. Steve isn't like him. He caused this. He wanted this.

Steve leads them downstairs, down to the conservatory that connects the kitchen to the greenhouse. It's set up as an informal dining room, and Bucky’s taken aback when, after placing a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches onto the table for the Commander and Bucky, the Martha named Sharon puts out four other place settings. Shortly thereafter, Sharon and the redheaded servant—Natasha, Bucky learns, and the gardener and the driver (Sam and Clint) join the table as well.

They eat in relative silence, and Bucky spends the meal sneaking surreptitious glances around at everybody. They’re all eating together as if they're equals, when Bucky knows they very much are not. Gender roles have been staunchly enforced in the past four years, and it's become a rare sight indeed, to have alphas, betas, and omegas interacting together all at once.

Steve is sitting at the head of the table, and it comes as a shock when he says, “So how has everyone’s morning been?”

Bucky keeps his eyes on his sandwich, sure that he’s not expected to answer. Natasha is the first one who speaks, saying, “Pretty good. Got the vacuuming done."

"Upstairs, or downstairs?" Steve asks pointedly.

"Downstairs. Upstairs isn't ready yet."

"Dammit," Steve grunts.

"All the laundry's done.” Natasha glances reproachfully at Sam. “Unless somebody makes an awful mess of his clothes going forward. Blood isn't exactly easy to get out, you know.”

Sam chuckles. “I have a dirty job, sue me.” He looks pointedly at Steve. "I got the hedges done."

"Did that go smoothly?" Steve asks without looking up from his soup. Bucky frowns, wondering how trimming the hedges could go wrong.

"There were a few dead spots, but they came off without a hitch."

"Disposed of?" Steve asks.

"Yep. Threw 'em in the burn pit."

Steve nods in somber approval. "Good riddance."

Jeez, Bucky thinks, these people take lawn maintenance very seriously. He realizes after a beat that his mouth is gaping a little, and he snaps it shut. This is the first time in nearly four years that he’s observed alphas, betas and omegas speaking so freely with one another, acting like equals. It’s almost like before. The thought puts an ache in his chest, which he quickly squashes.

“How about you Bucky?”

His eyes shoot up to find Steve and everyone else at the table regarding him. He quickly swallows the bite of sandwich in his mouth to answer, “Um, I’ve been okay. Just ... been in my room.” The answer is so dull that it almost makes him feel embarrassed. Even now, when the highlights of other people’s days are as tedious as laundry and gardening, Bucky himself has nothing to offer in the way of conversation. He doesn’t dare complain, though. There are worse things than being bored.

“You must be getting bored up there in your room,” Steve observes.

“Um …”

“I have a modest library in my office. If you like, you can poke around and find something that interests you.”

Bucky's stomach sinks, and his fingers feel cold where they grip his sandwich. “Excuse me?” he asks. Surely, this is a trap. This is the Rogers’ household trying to see whether he’s a True Believer or not. They're testing him. Bucky feels sick at the prospect of getting in trouble, so he mumbles, “I don’t think so,” and looks back down at his plate. “That’s not allowed.”

There’s a long beat of awkward silence, and then Steve says, “Guys, can you give us a minute?”

Four chairs scrape against the stone floor of the conservatory and Natasha and the others file out through the kitchen, disappearing back into the house. Bucky feels dread well in his gut. Has he said the wrong thing?

“Bucky,” Steve says carefully. “Do you really think that it’s wrong for an omega to read?”

Bucky can feel Steve’s eyes boring into his head, so he looks up. Steve doesn’t look upset, he looks interested. Bucky licks his lips nervously. “Well. I dunno. I ... was an engineering major, in college,” he says. “I minored in English Lit.”

Steve nods sympathetically. “I take it you were quite an avid reader, then.”

“I guess.”

Steve continues to eat his lunch as if Bucky hasn’t said anything wrong, and it gives Bucky hope. Surely this can’t be, he thinks. Surely there aren’t people like this, aren’t households like this, anymore. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, heart lifting with new hope, about ready to bust free of the scar tissue that’s kept it tethered down for so long. "You'd let me read?"

“Yes,” Steve says. “You can come to my office tonight, after evening meal. You can pick out some books.”

Bucky’s heart soars. “Can I take some back to my room?”

“Absolutely not,” Steve snaps, sounding like a true Commander for the first time yet. He levels Bucky with a stern look. “My office is the only room in the house without windows. Do you understand? You may only read them in there.”

Bucky swallows heavily and ducks his head, cowed. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Okay.”

Before:

Bucky’s naked toes scrape the ledge of the exam table. He’s only wearing the paper gown they gave him, and frankly the room’s too cold for that. The door to the exam room opens again, and Bucky’s eyes shoot up. He sits up straighter. “Doctor?”

The man doesn’t look at him. He walks over to the cabinets in the room and drops the folder he’s holding onto the countertop with a flourish and a sigh. Bucky screws up his face at having been ignored. “Um … what did the—”

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor says flatly, still not turning around. “Congratulations.”

Bucky’s heart sinks. Sure, he’d suspected. Hell, he’d pretty much known. Two positive at-home tests and a smiling pharmacist when he’d been desperate enough to buy a third had told him so. It’s why he’d come to the clinic. But still, shit. “Okay,” he says, swallowing heavily. “Okay. So, do I need to make another appointment to come back? Or can we just …”

The doctor’s shoulders tense up through the material of his lab coat. “Excuse me?” he says. He turns around and the expression on his face makes Bucky want to shrink away. “‘Can we just’? ‘Can we just’ what?”

“... I told you,” Bucky says, wary of the man's anger. “The pregnancy. I want to terminate.”

If he had any doubts about what was going through the physician’s mind, they’re quickly quashed by the way the man’s face now dissolves into disgust. “Well isn't that a pretty way of putting it,” he spits. “You want an abortion?”

“Uh, yeah.” Bucky juts his chin out in defiance. “You got a problem with that?”

The doctor scoffs. “Yes, I do. You know, hardly anyone can have a baby anymore. You manage to get pregnant, and you want to kill it?”

“It’s my choice.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Bucky stands up, heedless of the fact that he’s dressed in only the flimsy paper gown. “I don’t think you’re being very professional,” he says. Really, it’s not that this doctor’s opinion is that different from a lot of people’s these days, but Bucky still feels infuriated at the fact that he’s having to have this argument with a doctor, of all people. “Now, do I have to make an appointment to come back?” he grits. "Or can we take care of this today?"

The man’s features harden. “You’ll have to go somewhere else if you want to murder your own child. We don’t do that here.”

Bucky grinds his teeth. “This is a city-funded clinic.” He’d specifically come here instead of the private doctor that his parents’ insurance could easily cover. “You have to provide reproductive health care. It’s the law.”

“The law’s going to change real soon.” The doctor turns his back to Bucky and heads for the door. 

Bucky watches in disbelief as he's utterly dismissed. “Excuse me?”

“Get the hell out of my clinic,” the man says as he flings the door open and steps out into the hallway. He spares Bucky one last contemptuous glance. “There’s a special place in Hell for people like you.”

Bucky gapes as the man goes, and the door slowly shuts behind him. Suddenly, the room feels even colder than it had before, and Bucky’s desperate to get his clothes back on. He stoops to grab his jeans and underwear from where he’d put them on a chair, and he shucks them on, followed by his shirt. He rakes his hands through his hair, feeling overwhelmed tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. He’s had enough shit to deal with lately, what with midterms, his boyfriend breaking up with him, and now this pregnancy scare (well, not a scare anymore, as it turns out). He really didn’t need to deal with such a shitty person on today of all days.

“Well fuck you too,” he mutters to the empty room, bitterness burning in his gut. He’s going to go straight to the next city clinic, and the next, and the next, until he finds someone to agree to help him. Because no way in fucking hell is he having a baby one semester into undergrad.

After:

Bucky trails his hands over the spines of the books that line Commander Rogers’ library. Steve is sitting at his desk, distracted by whatever he’s looking at on the screen of his computer.

There must be over a thousand books in the office. Steve has books on everything from philosophy to horticulture; from biographies and novels, to antique encyclopedias and foreign language art books. Bucky can’t help but be impressed. And jealous. "This is amazing," he murmurs.

Steve spares him a glance from over at his desk. He looks vaguely amused. “It’s just a library.”

Said like someone who's never had anything taken away from him, Bucky thinks peevishly. “Must be a thousand," he guesses.

"Close to twelve hundred, last time I counted."

"Are they all yours, or did they come with—” he cuts himself off before he can complete the question.

It’s not talked about openly, isn't considered polite, but everybody knows that the Commanders of the Faithful all live in grand houses that were taken and not bought. Taken from people deemed unworthy by the government. Gender traitors, freedom fighters, apostates. There are plenty of things that can get a person killed these days, their house stripped away along with everything else they own. There’s a strong chance that this house they’re standing in right now got snatched from someone else; a person with a life, hopes and dreams, furniture, family. A person with possessions and passions. With books. 

Bucky tenses when he comes across an entire section stuffed full with different spiritual and holy books. There's one whole shelf dedicated to nothing but an assortment of bibles: King James, Catholic, Greek, and New Republic versions, all. Old and new, English and Latin. It seems to be a collection, and Bucky moves away down the line of books, uneasy at the evidence of Steve's religious fervor. "You're a collector?"

“Sort of. Took me over a decade to build all that up, though," Steve says. "I brought them all down when I moved. Couldn’t choose which ones to leave behind."

"Behind?"

"In New York.”

Bucky snaps to attention. “New York City?” he asks.

Steve looks over and sees his reaction—which must be telling, because a knowing smile splits his face. “What borough?” he asks.

“Brooklyn. Red Hook."

He scoffs and thumbs at his own chest. “Gowanus. Wow. I guess it’s a small world after all, huh? We probably grew up less than twenty minutes apart from each other."

Bucky bites his tongue to keep from saying any number of inappropriate, unfriendly things; about how their shared West Brooklyn origin is probably the only thing they have in common, how their situations are nothing alike, how Steve is obviously older than him, so they definitely were never “growing up” at the same time together, no matter where they lived. "Yeah,” he grunts. “Small world."

He keeps his focus on the books in front of his face. He's nervous just from perusing the titles; feels like he’s thirteen again, sneaking into his parents’ wine fridge, about to be caught and grounded at any second. Silly perhaps, but he can’t shake it. He doesn’t want to get into an unnecessary discussion on his appreciation for Commander Rogers’ library, or his own affinity for reading. Reading is forbidden for people like Bucky now. If caught, it could cost him a finger, or god forbid a whole hand. Since he’s only got the one left to work with, he’s got to be careful. The back of his brain keeps itching with the niggling reminder, over and over again: This could still be a trick.

In another life maybe he’dve be embarrassed of such paranoia, but he isn't now. He’s been conditioned to be this suspicious. At this point it’s simply survival instinct, to resist the twitch of his fingers as they linger over Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go. It's sandwiched alphabetically right between Huxley and Orwell, with a little metal placard overhead that's engraved in tidy letters: Dystopian Fiction. Bucky starts to reach for the book.

“You a fan of the genre?”

His heart leaps and he jerks his hand back and looks over at Steve. “What? No. No I just …” Steve watches him keenly, with an inscrutable expression that does nothing to calm Bucky's nerves. He hastily shakes his head. “I’d seen the movie once, is all. Before.” He doesn’t have to expound on what “Before” means. They both know. Before the government collapsed. Before the regime took over. Before the world went to shit.

Well, he doesn’t yet know if Steve agrees with that last part. Regardless, Bucky knows he can’t place all of his trust on this man and his considerate treatment thus far. It isn’t worth what little bodily integrity he has left. He's got to be careful. “It was a depressing movie, anyway,” he mumbles, and moves on down the line of books to look for something else.

He winds up choosing a pulpy science fiction novel that he’s never heard of, by an author he’s never heard of, with subject matter completely removed from real life. It’s a cheap paperback, with a worn spine and outdated, sun-bleached cover art. Looks like something somebody dug out of a bin at a yard sale. It's probably not a very good read, but if Bucky’s going to be caught reading anything, it’ll be least painful if it’s something that has nothing to do with anything. Nothing … subversive. 

Steve doesn’t seem to care one way or another, though his eyes do seem sympathetic, as if he knows that Bucky is holding himself back. “You can come at night,” he tells him. “After dinner. I’ll be in here most nights. Sometimes doing business with other people, but when it’s just you and I alone together, I'll lock the door. You can stay and read whatever you like.”

Bucky tenses up at that wording: “alone together.” Since Gilead began, there’s only ever been one alpha who went out of his way to be alone with Bucky, and it hadn’t been for charitable reasons. “But it's not … It’s not a trade, right?” he checks nervously. When he works up the nerve to look at Steve's face, he catches the tail end of a shocked look, which rapidly bleeds into a scowl of insulted indignation. Bucky panics and tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t have to come in here at all, if you don’t want to,” Steve snaps. “Go to your room instead, for all I care.” He goes back to his typing at the computer, visibly incensed. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

Bucky winces, mortified at having pissed off his new Commander so soon—and when the guy was only trying to be nice to him, too! There’s so little left in this miserable world for people like Bucky, and now he fears he might’ve ruined the one good thing that was being offered. “No,” he hurries to say. “I’ll stay. I-I'd like to. I mean ... if that’s still okay?” 

Steve shrugs and doesn’t look over. “Do what you want.”

Feeling cowed, Bucky goes over to sit on the couch. He curls up in the corner nearest the room's fireplace and flips past the copyright and the title pages. He begins reading chapter one. It’s only as he’s re-reading the same paragraph for the third time that he realizes he’s not taking any of it in. He sighs and looks over at Steve. “I’m sorry," he says. "I wasn’t trying to insult you."

"It's fine."

Bucky bites his lip and looks back down. After another moment, he quietly adds, "Really, though. It's ... it means a lot, you letting me read in here." He peeks up again and finds Steve regarding him again, this time with a softened expression. Bucky tries to smile a little, and uses his name like a peace offering: "Thank you ... Steve."

Steve inhales deeply and nods, satisfied. “You’re welcome. Bucky.”

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[fafomama]

Competition

Summary: Tama Tonga and Jey Uso have a friendly competition, judged by OC.

Warnings/Triggers: Smut, MDNI, 18+ only, choking, bondage, PIV, creampie, oral (both receiving), spanking, language, marking

Featuring: Tama Tonga x OC x Jey Uso

Again, MDNI! 18+ only!

Everything is fiction. I don't own nothing except the thoughts in my head.

------------------------

They say a little competition is healthy, but at what point does it cross from healthy to toxic?

Lennox adjusted the incline on the treadmill, tightening her ponytail, and picking up her speed to a slow jog when the gym door swung open briefly catching her attention as the two men walked in.

Tama and Jey.

Jey and Tama.

So different, but so, undeniably similar.  Both building careers on their own, breaking out of their father’s shadows.  Both being known for teaming with their brothers.  Both rooted in their family, carrying their heritage with pride, evidenced by the ink adorning their bodies.  Both absolutely gorgeous.  Both dangerous.

Tama was definitely the more cocky, confident, more smooth, more wild of the two.  Every move calculated and controlled but so fluid and always bordering on unbridled. Watching him was like watching choreographed chaos.  From the way he would slide in to the ring to the way he walked to how his eyes shifted from dark brown, a quick flash of lightening in them before they turned almost black when his mood changed…or when he saw something he wanted.  He was mesmerizing.

Jey was slightly more reserved but still oozing confidence, a quieter note to his bravado.  His movements more spontaneous, hectic, reactionary. Watching him was like watching a storm rolling in.  One minute the air around him would be light, relaxing…the next, his hands would clap together, posture would shift, tone would become darker.  He was tantalizing.

Both men on a mission with something to prove, even if to no one else but themselves.

“Hey, Len” Tama nodded in her direction, acknowledging they weren’t alone.  Jey simply glanced over his shoulder, tilting his chin up, giving her a silent ‘hey’.

“Boys.” Lennox smiled politely and turned her attention back to the treadmill, increasing the speed.

Lennox stopped suddenly, jerking her headphones off her head, when a roll of wrist tape flew in front of her, narrowly missing her face.  “What the fuck?”

“Aye, sorry, Len.  But tell this fool ain’t no way yeyeye is more over than yeet.”  Shaking her head and laughing at Jey’s impression of Tama, Lennox grabbed her water bottle, taking a long drink. “I’m not getting in the middle of that.  I learned my lesson last time.”  Somehow, Lennox always found herself in the middle of their impromptu competitions.  Usually it was inane things…who had the better haircut, who had the better hair before they both got cuts, who wore a particular article of clothing better, who was the better driver.  Other times it was more serious, more tense, words occasionally crossing to shoving and even sometimes becoming physical, with the two exchanging blows.  Who pulled off a certain move better, who was better on the mic, who stole the spotlight during a match.  Most of the time, when things got out of hand, everyone just sat back and let them go until they would both be sitting across from each other, nursing random injuries but laughing, having forgotten why they were fighting, calling a truce.  Other times, their brothers would step in to separate them.  In rarer instances when it would take more than Jimmy and Loa, Jacob would step in too.

“Man,” Tama interrupted, “she just don’t wanna hurt your feelings because y’all been fucking.” Catching the shared look between Lennox and Jey, Tama continued on, “What? Yall thought nobody knew? Jimmy told everyone he caught yall in his garage a few weeks ago.”

Lennox felt a blush creep over her, but forced a shrug.  Jey laughed and shook his head, “Of course he did.  But, aye, you just mad I stepped up first.”

“Len,” Tama’s voice caught her attention again, “if we had both stepped to you at the same time, who woulda got it?”

Amusement hidden behind an eyeroll, Lennox stepped off the treadmill, “Nope, not getting pulled in to that one either.” Grabbing her gym bag, she paused at the door before turning around, “But, for what it’s worth, if you both came up to me at the same time running game…kind of sounds like a win win for everyone.  But, mostly me.” The gym door shut behind her adding an unneeded emphasis to her last words, leaving the two men sharing a look, wheels turning and ideas formulating between them, a challenge accepted.

If the two of them fighting was dangerous, Tama and Jey being on the same page, locked in on a mutual goal was downright criminal.  A hurricane and a wild fire set on the same path.

Lennox set her phone on the nightstand, a knowing smile spreading across her face when she heard the knock.  Feigning exasperation and boredom, she opened the door, not at all surprised to see the two men at her door.  “I’m not judging who can eat the most tacos.” Lennox had turned, opening the door wider, a silent invitation for them to come in.

Jey spoke first, as Tama nudged the door shut, the two men stepping inside, “I’m not hungry.  You hungry?”

Tama shook his head, “Nah, but I can definitely eat.”  The implication of his words hung in the air, grabbing Lennox and shaking her.  Lennox looked from one to the other, the shift in their demeanor from earlier was obvious.  This wasn’t friendly competition to see who could get under her skin first or who could make her blush fastest.  This was a war and Lennox was starting to realize it wasn’t them against each other, battling for whatever prize they wanted from her.  No, they were on the same side.  She was the opponent.  Her resolve, her body, her will power, her sanity.  Her.  They were going to tear her apart in the most delicious way possible. 

“So, is this where I pretend I have no idea why you two are here?” Seeking to take some kind of control, Lennox questioned, shifting her focus again between the two men standing in front of her.

“Nah, we’re all adults.  We all know what’s up.  We all wanna be here, right?” Jey spoke, words flowing out like warm honey.  Smooth.  “Right?” He asked again, taking a step forward, grabbing at Lennox’s hip and pulling her closer.   A movement the two had done a dozen times before, but this time, the pull was different.  It wasn’t just to get her closer, it was to give more space behind her to allow Tama who was moving now to close in.  And maybe, just a little bit was a reminder to Lennox and Tama which man had been there first.

“Right.” Lennox finally spoke, her voice certain but there was an underlying hesitation that dissolved the second she heard Tama’s voice and felt his warm breath against the back of her neck, “She knows what she’s doing.  She’s thought about this…she’s right where she wants to be.”  His voice low and warm, almost comforting.  Almost.  But his words twisted in her gut, making it flutter.

“What’s the word?” Jey tilted her head back, his face a breath away from hers.

“Philly” Lennox breathed out.

“And if you can’t talk?” Tama.  Of course he would be the one to think about what she would do if her mouth was otherwise busy.

Lennox reached one hand to Jey, and one back to Tama, pinching hard on each of their arms.  “That work?” She watched as they both nodded before adding, “Not gonna need either though.”

“You definitely will.”  Jey’s statement was simple, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.

He was on her, smashing her body between him and Tama, the smell of their bodies intoxicating and overwhelmingly arousing.  Woodsy.  Smoky.  Manly.

A fist in her hair and a jerk of the hand had her neck wrenched, head tilted back to meet Tama’s ravenous mouth.  He was starved.  Determined.  A man on a mission to make up lost time and stake his own claim to her body in an attempt to level the playing field between him and the man who was already familiar with her body and how she liked things. 

Clothes quickly became a fleeting memory, discarded from overheated bodies with little regard or care, tossed around the room, falling wherever.

In what felt like no more time than a blink, but could have been minutes, or even hours because time didn’t matter anymore, Lennox was on the bed, Tama between her legs, mouth on her dripping sex, hands holding her hips still.  Jey was pacing the room, looking, searching for something, an unspoken idea brewing.  

“Damn, Len, pussy too sweet not to share.” Tama’s mouth barely leaving her, his statement almost a private conversation between him and her core.  Lennox bucked off the bed, hands gripping at the sheets, at Tama, his head, his back, the headboard, her own body as she shook, her arousal leaking out of her.   Tama turned his head, sucking and biting on her inner thigh, leaving a bruise and a perfect bite impression in his wake.

“Tama one.  Uso zero.” Lennox didn’t even have to open her eyes to know the smirk on Tama’s face as he taunted Jey with his words.

“Don’t get cocky. I ain’t even got started yet.” Jey was on the bed now, a charging cord in his fist. “Hands, mama.”  Lennox obediently raised her hands to him, watching as he wrapped the cord around both her wrists, securing them together. “You good?” He gave the cord a tug and watched as she nodded.

A startled gasp filled the room when Lennox was yanked sideways on the bed by her bound wrists. “Open up, Baby, let me paint that throat.”  Tama was standing above her, her head hanging off the side of the bed, the cord around her wrists held tight in his hand while the other fisted his cock, tapping the head on her lips.  Lennox opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out, moaning quietly when Tama slapped the head of his dick on her tongue, precum leaking on to her mixing with her saliva, leaving a string between her tongue and his cock that dripped down on to her chin. Tama shifted just enough, sliding his length between her eager lips, watching as she swallowed him. 

Lennox jerked forward when she felt Jey’s mouth clamp on to the inside of her thigh, leaving his own mark opposite of Tama’s.  The conflicting sensations of Tama’s grip on her hair with one hand, while yanking on the cord around her wrists with the other, his cock hitting the back of her throat with enough force to leave its own bruise mixed with Jey’s tongue now sucking on her clit, fingers working inside her, curling just how she needed him.  Another orgasm racked her, lifting her back and hips off the bed.  Lennox was certain she would have levitated had Tama not been buried inside her throat, keeping her shoulders and head pinned down.  With a yank of her hair, pulling her face against his groin, another orgasm rocked through her, covering Jey’s fingers, the scandalous sounds attempting to leave her mouth, muffled by Tama’s dick and his own groans and curses and he exploded in her mouth, pouring down her throat.

“Two Uso.  One Tama.” Jey grinned, arrogance flowing out.  “Gimme those hands.” Tama let go of the cord and leaned back on the bed, catching his breath. Jey pulled on the knot, releasing one hand and flipping Lennox on to her stomach and grabbing her wrists again, knotting them behind her. 

Lennox lurched forward, forehead making contact with Tama’s knee when Jey slammed in to her, pulling her back to meet his hips by yanking on the knot holding her wrists together.  A barely coherent, “Oh fuck” spilled out of her mouth, laced with need and want…pain and pleasure.  Jey’s hard thrusts behind her, a stark contradiction to Tama now.  His hand smoothing her hair, massaging her aching shoulders.  “Look at you, Baby.  You hear that?  Fucking obscene.”  Tama was right, the sounds coming from her body, the wet squelching, the slapping of her ass against Jey’s pelvis, the moans, the grunts, the curses, the smack of Jey’s palm against her flesh…every bit of it was obscene and enough to push her over the edge again.  Jey following behind her with an “Oh shit” and a hard tug on her bound hands with a series of shallow, hard, spastic slams of his hips.  The warm stickiness of him spilling out of her as she collapsed beneath him, her head falling from Tama’s shin to the bed.

“Three, one.  Better catch up.”

Lennox wasn’t certain which of the men spoke, but she knew for certain Tama was behind her now, pushing between her soaked and sloppy folds.  “Got a couple more left.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling her, running a hand down her back to where her wrists met, tugging her back again this time to meet his powerful snaps.  Lennox opened her mouth to allow a moan to slip out only to have Jey slide between her lips, easing into her.

“God damn, mama, you ain’t tapped yet?” 

A raspy “uhn uh” was all she could manage; any words being silenced by Jey’s cock in her mouth and Tama’s relentlessly feral strokes behind her.  Her eyes were watering as she adjusted to breathe through her nose, throat raw and aching, ass sore and now marked with two sets of handprints, each thigh bearing their individual marks like a proud battle scar.  She slid easily into another orgasm and faintly heard Tama behind her, “One more, baby.”

Gripping the front of her neck and pushing her head further into Jey’s pelvis, Tama shifted, grinding against her ass, angling himself impossibly deeper with short, hard thrusts.  “Hold her throat.” Tama let go and gripped her shoulder.  Jey reached down, grabbing her bare neck, “Oh shit, mamas.  I can feel my dick.” He squeezed a little tighter, feeling her throat tighten around him.

“Fuck, man.  Do that shit again.  She liked that.” Tama growled out feeling her walls clench around him nearing her release again.  “You’re doing so good, baby.”  He let go of her shoulder and slid his hand down between her legs, slapping her clit over and over setting off a chain reaction.  Her own release slamming through her, followed immediately by both men filling her, mouth and pussy both greedily taking their cum into her body before she collapsed.

Tama eased the cord off her wrists, each man taking a hand and rubbing the angry red welts, a quiet stillness engulfing them before Tama spoke, “Three – three.”

Lennox shook her head and rasped out a quiet whisper, her throat raw and aching in the most torturously spent way, “I think…” she swallowed hard, wincing slightly, “I won.”

To the victor go the spoils.

[tw-inkl-e-tit-s]

✩-too late-✩ Pt.2

Pairing: Miguel Cazarez Mora x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Type: Angst and fluff

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Readers boyfriend being a dick, Readers boyfriend makes weight jokes, Miguel being overprotective, Fighting

| Miguel Cazarez Mora Masterlist

THIRD PERSON POV

Miguel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight in front of him, his bestfriend was cuddled up on the couch talking to her boyfriend whom she had introduced to the group nearly four hours ago. Miguel already didn't like him, his name was Bryce, and all guys named Bryce were assholes, and Miguel wasn't wrong, he is an asshole.

Bryce would glare at Miguel when he would hug Y/n, make her laugh, or make her smile. The group had obviously taken notice of Bryce and Miguel's tension and decided to separate them by going out and getting some food.

When Miguel and the group had got back with the food, Bryce and Y/n were caught making out on the couch, y/n looked very uncomfortable when she noticed her friends in the doorway staring at them both with amused faces, besides Miguel of course, she didn't fail to notice how he and Bryce didn't get along great.

"We got tacos," Mason laughed as he walked by you to head into the kitchen

Maddy, Becca, Brady, Tristan, and Jacob followed after him with the rest of the food.

Miguel awkwardly sat on the couch and pulled out his phone. Bryce hit your arm and you looked at him with an annoyed look, "What?" You said rolling your eyes

"Give me a kiss," He said trying to pull you back in, to which you quickly pushed him away when you remembered Miguel was in the room.

"The fuck was that for!?" He whisper shouted, catching the attention of Miguel

"I don't want to kiss you in front of my… bestfriend," You said

It sent a sting to Miguel's heart when you said that. Miguel hated himself that day you said you had a date, the fans obviously went crazy and tried to find out who you were dating, Miguel had to take a break from social media since he saw everyone shipping you with someone they didn't even know.

Miguel knew by the smile on your face that he was too late.

"Come on babe just one kiss," Bryce whined, pulling on your shirt

You glared at him as you pushed his hands away from you. Miguel had seen some of your cleavage stick out causing him to snap his head away. he grabbed a pillow from beside him and placed it on his lap.

"WHO WANTS TACOS!!" Mason shouted as he walked into the living room with a bag full of tacos

"ME! I'm so hungry," Y/n said getting up

"Hope they got lettuce on them tacos, you need to lose some weight." Bryce laughed, only stopping soon after when he saw nobody else was laughing

"Oh come on it was funny!?" Bryce said smiling

Y/n shook her head looking away from him, Mason had whispered something to her and she laughed causing Bryce to glare at Mason. Mason just smirked and flipped him off.

"Where is my food?" Bryce asked

Mason and the others laughed at him, "We forgot you were here," Mason said as he continued to eat his food

"You need to lose some weight bitch," Tristan said with a mouth full of tacos

Bryce jumped off the couch walking towards Tristan, Y/n quickly stepped in front of her boyfriend, blocking him from her friend.

"What the fuck did you just say!?" Bryce shouted, causing Y/n to flinch

"I said you need to lose some weight ugly bitch, Why are you body shaming your own girlfriend dude?" Tristan asked, stepping closer to Bryce

Miguel pulled me away from the boys and put his arms over me. Bryce swung first, but Tristan dodged it and landed an uppercut to Bryce's jaw, Bryce stumbled backward holding onto the side of his face, where a blue and brown bruise already started to form.

Bryce ran at Tristan at full speed, Mason grabbed me and Miguel ran at Bryce from the side, knocking him down and getting on top of him.

"GET THE FUCK OFF YOU B-" Before Bryce could finish speaking, Miguel punched him in the face

I watched as Miguel beat the life out of my boyfriend and I didn't do anything, I didn't do anything, I wanted to stop them but truth be told I wanted to do that for a while, Bryce was and has always been a piece of shit When we first started dating, he would make remarks about my weight here and there, Then he would talk about the way I looked or dressed.

He got to the point where he wanted to do more than just make out on my couch for hours, I told him no but he didn't listen and forced me onto the bed. When I started crying that's when he let me go, I ran to Miguel's house that night.

"Get off of him Mikey that's enough!" Maddy shouted, trying to pull Miguel off of Bryce

Miguel stopped when he saw all the blood from Bryce splashed on his white shirt, He got up but not before landing a harsh kick to the side of Bryce's Ribcage.

"Get. The fuck. Out." Miguel said, glaring down at Bryce

Bryce frantically nodded his head getting up and running out of the front door. Everyone looked at me and I glared at Miguel, He went to say something but I shook my head.

"You could go to jail Mikey!" I shouted

"Y/n I did it because I care about you, He doesn't deserve you," He said, looking down

"So every guy I bring over you're just gonna beat up now!?" I said, rolling my eyes and grabbing my phone

"Where are you going?" Becca asked, standing up

"I'm going home, I just need to think right now," I said walking out of the front door

"Y/n, Bryce is still somewhere out there!" Miguel shouted, Chasing after me

I ignored him, continuing my walk home. I felt someone grab my arm and spin me around, I looked up to see Miguel covered in my boyfriend's blood, Probably my ex-boyfriend now, but knowing Bryce he thinks we are still together.

"You can't leave Y/n, He is watching you," He whispered, nodding his head to a dark ally way

I looked to see a silhouette of a tall person, standing there with something in their hand, The ally way I had to pass to get home.

I nodded my head looking back at Miguel, He grabbed my hand pulling me back into the house.

"where is everyone?" I asked, still shaken up

"They are upstairs talking," He said, walking to the bathroom and washing his hands off

I walked over to him, I grabbed a rag from the bathroom sink, and wetted it.

"Sit down," I said

He smirked sitting down on the closed toilet seat. I began wiping off the blood on his face. He looked up at me smiling before grabbing my hand and pulling me into his lap.

"Hi," He whispered, staring at my lips

"Hi Mikey," I said, smiling at him

His hands rubbed my sides as I continued wiping his face off, I sat the rag on the counter, I went to stand but Miguel's grip on my waist tightened.

"I need to tell you something," He said, I nodded my head signaling for him to continue, He swallowed thickly before taking a deep breath

"Okay, I have liked you ever since I met you that night at the arcade. I thought you were the most gorgeous girl there Y/n, I really wanted to kiss you that night when we were dancing under the stars, When you said you had a date on live that time, I beat myself up for it. I want you Y/n, for the rest of my life, I will never ever treat you like he did, ever." He said, looking me in the eyes

I smiled pulling him into a deep kiss. I have always felt the same for Miguel but I was too oblivious to see that he felt the same all along, The truth is I only said yes to dating Bryce because I wanted to ignore my feelings for Miguel, But they always came back when I would see him again.

"I like you too Mikey, I always have," I said, connecting our foreheads

"You gotta stay here tonight, You got a crazy stalker now," He said, I laughed rolling my eyes

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asked, Smiling nervously

"I would love to," I said, giving him another kiss

"Shit, you still have blood on your clothes!" I said, getting off of him

Taglist: @vancehopperenthusiast @bradyhepner @deadghosy @finneyblakes @mnsnloverhey @jayceflwrs @bookobsessedfreak

[direwombat]

wip-nobody-asked-for-it-sunday, but i just really wanted to share the roughest of rough drafts of the scene where syb and jacob have a little scuffle in the slasher au. under the cut bc its long

It all happens in a moment. The snap of a branch above and suddenly a solid 140lbs comes crashing down on top of him, along with a snarling screech. The wind is knocked from his lungs and he's forced to the ground. The gun goes off again before it flies from his hands and skids through the dirt.

[they wrestle.] There's nothing graceful or strategic about it. It's sheer animal desperation. A fight for survival. Feral grunts and snarls from them both. She claws at his face/eyes, her face twisted into a harsh grimace. Her teeth gnash together and spittle flies from her mouth. She grips him by the sides of his head, nails biting into the shell of his ears and she bashes his skull against the ground. and again.

And again.

And again.

With each impact, black dots dance across his vision, the world beginning to blur. His ears are ringing, drool and blood dripping from his mouth and he feels his eyelids grow heavy.

But his prey is hasty. She doesn't wait for him to fully pass out. Doesn't beat him into full unconsciousness. Just the brink. One that he's able to walk back from as soon as her weight abruptly leaves him and he hears the thumping of her boots and snapping of twigs as her footsteps recede.

With a groan, he forces himself upright. It's a struggle. Everything fucking hurts. His head is pounding and while he doesn't think he's concussed, he knows that his scalp is going to be tender. Blood drips from the slashes she made down his face. Impressive considering he knows her nails aren't sharp. Saw the way she chewed most of them down to the quick.

He's unsteady on his feet, stumbling towards the gun that she left behind in her haste. He lets out another groan as he stoops to pick it up and readies it. He has to hand it to her: if she didn't leave that behind, she might have gotten away.

He takes aim at her through the trees. Closes an eye. Inhales a deep breath. Holds it. Takes aim.

And fires.

A crack rings out into the evening, followed by a high pitched yelp, and he watches her go down.

[he stalks over to find her laying on the ground, clutching her shoulder. BLood seeps from between her fingers, soaking through her flannel. Her hair is a mess. Her face covered in dirt and smears of blood. Her chest is heaving, but even as he looms over her, pointing the barrel straight at her face, there isn't an ounce of fear in her eyes.

"Do it," she says, and she spits blood onto the ground. "C'mon, fuckin' do it. Kill me."

He remains still. His finger curls around the trigger. But he doesn't pull.

"The fuck you waitin' for?" she snarls, suddenly enraged. "This your whole thing ain't it? Fuckin' Most Dangerous Game n' shit? Well, ya caught me. You fuckin' won. Now finish it."

But still, he doesn't pull.

And then she starts laughing, a wild, manic look shining in her green eyes. "Jesus Christ, some hunter you are," she sneers. "What? It not get you off if they ain't beggin'? That it? Can't get hard if they ain't pleadin' for their lives?"

He cocks his head to the side. A smile threatens to upturn the stern line of his lips.

She lets her head fall back and stares up at the canopy, rather than him. "Whatever," she breathes. "Ain't like I got shit to live for anyway." Then, quietly, she adds, "'Least it ain't prison."

He frowns and lowers his gun. Feels a strange twinge of…empathy for her. So many people are content to live their lives in the little boxes society puts them in. But not her. She'd rather die free than spend the rest of her life living in a cage.

This, he understands.

He heaves a sigh and lowers his gun. Giving the sole of her boot a nudge with the toe of his own, he grunts, "Get up."

"Why?" she scoffs. "So you can take me on a death march? Can't look me in my face when you kill me? Gon' take me out executioner style?"

"Not gonna kill you," he grunts, and he slings the rifle over his shoulder.

"Then what?"

"Gonna get you patched up."

She lifts her head and regards him with skeptical bewilderment. "Come again?"

"You gonna get up or not?"

She winces again, face pinching in pain as she rolls herself forward so that she's sitting upright. Her teeth are still bared. "You fuckin' serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

She regards him for a moment, scans his face and body language. She narrows her eyes and frowns, but hesitantly rises to her feet and stares him in the eye. "You look like shit," she answers.

The smile he'd been suppressing cracks through and he gently places a hand on her good shoulder. "C'mon. Back to the truck."

[ericshoney]

Watch it ~ Chapter nine

Over in Eric's room, the two had just woken up. They noticed Changmin sitting on a chair opposite the bed, the older male had a knife in his hand, watching the two.

"What the fuck Hyung!" Eric shouted, trying to cover his chest up.

"I'm bored, let's play a game." Changmin said casually.

"No Hyung! You are not chasing me through the forest again!" Eric exclaimed.

"Then can I borrow her?" Changmin asked, his focus now on the girl.

"No!" Eric shouted, even louder this time. He got up, pushing Changmin out the room.

"Don't you have that meeting to attend with Hyunjae Hyung? go!" He shouted.

Changmin rolled his eyes and with a sigh, left the room. Eric sighed also, going to sit on the end of his bed.

"I love Hyung, but he's crazy." Eric said. He was shocked when Storm laughed softly, she was amused by the sight.

"Let's head down to eat soon, Jacob Hyung probably made breakfast." Eric said, getting up again.

"Also, I have to go visit a few places after. You want to come?" He asked, looking at the girl. Storm looked back at him and shrugged.

"Am I allowed?" She asked.

"You'll be with me." Eric stated.

"I could escape." She replied with a cheeky grin.

"You'll never outrun me~" Eric said with a chuckle.

"I could try." Storm responded, sitting up in the bed.

Eric smirked and got himself some clothes out, as well as some for Storm. He threw them her way.

"One day baby~" He cooed.

The two then had a quick shower before heading downstairs. That's when Storm saw her best friend, sat next to the leader, the other members sat around the table as well.

"Ivy!" Storm exclaimed, running over to greet her friend.

"Damn, that's the loudest she's been since she's got here." Sunwoo mumbled.

Ivy smiled hugging her friend tightly. She was so worried about her not being at this breakfast, thoughts running through her head all morning.

"I'm glad your okay." Ivy whispered to her friend.

"Same, I was worried I wouldn't see you again." Storm responded.

"Sit down for breakfast everyone." Sangyeon then ordered.

Soon, all eleven males and two females were sat around the large dining table, a plate of food in front of each of them, coffee in a mug, but nobody started eating until Sangyeon did.

"After breakfast we'll go through some rules." Sangyeon then spoke.

"Um Hyung, I need to go do a few jobs and was hoping to take Storm out with me." Eric spoke up.

"Is that a wise idea, maknae?" Kevin called, making Eric roll his eyes.

"I'll allow it, under the circumstances she's by your side at all times." Sangyeon said.

"Not a problem Hyung!" Eric exclaimed. He then looked at Storm, winking at her as she looked down.

"So what will we do?" Ivy asked the boss.

"I'll allow you free roam of the house today, however, try anything and I'll make sure you don't get a breath of fresh air ever again." Sangyeon answered, eating his breakfast casually.

Ivy sighed and looked at Storm, who was quietly eating. She was happy that she could get out for a bit.

[enzohuang]

trigger warnings: death & murder

As he was escorted to the police station, his hands behind him in handcuffs, he couldn’t help but smile as he was in the back of the police car.

Kennedy was dead. Peter was dead.

There was nobody else that can corroborate anything that he had to say, and even if the police said they found the mask with his DNA on it, that didn’t really mean anything. He knew from experience that that wouldn’t hold up in court, especially since it’s not the murder weapon nor were any witnesses alive to say otherwise.

As he sat there in the interrogation room, there was a sense of giddiness within him because even though his wrists were in handcuffs, he was still free. Free to say anything, especially now when Kennedy’s letters to her father had outed herself as the killer, leaving him completely scot-free from all of the blame.

How did you know Kennedy O’Neill?

“We’re friends. Who also hook up from time to time. She’d always been really sweet so I literally can’t believe she was actually one of the killers,” Enzo said, letting out a deep breath as he shook his head.

What’s the purpose of the mask?

“It’s nothing. Just something I saw at a store and thought looked sick, so I bought it,” he replied with another shrug, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the two detectives share a look. What the hell was that?

One of the injured in tonight’s event claimed that someone in a mask was responsible for hurting her.

Enzo tried his best to keep his emotions neutral, not showing anything on his face as he tried to go over who he had hurt tonight. Most of them resulted in deaths, but he started to feel a sinking feeling as he realized that rich bitch he hurt might not have died. He racked his brain to remember if he’d seen her die, but with everybody rushing around, he wasn’t completely sure. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Was there a question there?” Enzo asked, eyebrows raised. The perfect image of nonchalance. He’ll figure it out later. He will.

We’re just going to go through the victims one by one now. Standard protocol. Did you know a Jacob Oh?

A distraction tactic. Moving on to another topic to see if he knew anything, and he had to hide his smile this time. While Kennedy had been the one responsible for that, it was still a fond memory because he did not like that math teacher at all. He had just killed Harlow that night of the snowstorm and was walking home when he found a panicked Kennedy near a crashed car. He told himself he’d mind his business, mostly to make sure she’d mind hers and not ask him what he was doing out in the storm by himself, but he couldn’t help it. She looked like such a wounded, little bird, but he could feel that determination inside of her. That darkness that he hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. He wanted her even more then, and so he helped her out. Made sure she knew she could trust him and she did. She trusted him with everything. “My nephew has him for a teacher,” Enzo replied.

What about Vivian Hayes?

“She came into Mike’s one time. Her car was a wreck, I remember that, but we never really talked,” he answered, though his mind was on a different time too. That night when he was in Kennedy’s ear, encouraging her to hurt her supposed best friend. The look in Kennedy’s eyes that night was so... sexy. Watching Vivi try to crawl away that night made him so happy, made it all so... fulfilling. His hands had been resting on Kennedy’s hips, watching with glee as she plunged the knife into Vivi’s abdomen, encouraging her to do it again because she deserved it. How he rushed to bring the blonde back to his apartment to show her just how proud he actually was of her.

What about that newcomer, Harlow Sotheby?

Ah, Enzo remembered that blonde. She came into Nightrest thinking she owned the damn place and when Enzo was at the yacht club to drop off a package, she was there, already aware of his reputation as a drug dealer. He gave her what she wanted, only for her to throw her money in his face, laughing as she walked away with her snooty friends. God, I hate them. I fucking hate all of them. These rich bitches who never had to work a day in their lives who think everybody else is beneath them. Even with all that anger, though, Enzo took his time. Made sure he knew her routine and plans well enough to know that she’d be alone during that snowstorm. That’s when he’d killed her, and dumped her body right outside his place of work because he truly couldn’t care less about her. The snow did the job for him and every time he walked by the spot he dumped her to go to work, Enzo couldn’t help but smile. It was a reminder that rich people who treated people like shit deserved what they got. “I’ve never talked to her,” Enzo replied with a shrug.

Amoni Brown?

For the first time that day, Enzo allowed himself a frown. The fires were something the three of them thought of. A little chaos. Peter starting a fire at a residential home in Stoughton Estates. Kennedy starting a fire at The Stowaway. Him feeling a little chaotic and starting a fire at Mama’s, even though his best friend was working there. He hadn’t expected people to not get out. He hadn’t expected Amoni to be there. It was just a fire, people were supposed to get out. No one was supposed to get hurt, but if there was, Enzo would have wished it hadn’t been Amoni. He had actually liked her, liked talking with her. She was a sweet soul who made the best cheeseburgers and who never really judged him. It was a shame that that was how her life had to end. “We were friends,” Enzo said, his voice low, letting them see for the first time his true emotions, because there is a bit of regret there. She hadn’t been planned, for sure. “She... she didn’t deserve that. Any of that,” he muttered, before sighing deeply.

Where were you during the March Madness game? Were you at Rhee’s?

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I was mostly there for the drinks and the wings, not so much the game,” Enzo said. He remembered that night so well. How it was just supposed to be him and Kennedy, but Peter made a surprise visit as well. How he had sent a text to Sita so he could get her alone. Stabbing her in the alley. He didn’t really have a problem with her but the itch had started that night and she was easy bait. Plus, she was rich too, and the world wouldn’t really miss her. 

How he killed Pierce in the bathroom after donning the mask, feeling giddy at the sight of him trying to crawl away, as if Enzo hadn’t been there in the bathroom in the first place just for the kill. Laughing at the fact that Kennedy put in a tongue in Kerryn’s mouth. Peter targeting Kat, but ending up killing Brooks instead. Everything about that night had been so funny, given him so much adrenaline. A job well done for all of them. “After it all went down, I just went home. Went to see my sister. She can confirm that herself.”

What about the night of the charity gala?

“I was still there. I didn’t really have a date, but I was there. Anything for Mama’s, right?” He said, which was hilarious since he was the one who burned it down in the first place. That night was still so fresh in his mind. How Peter killed Shadae because he hated her, his own boss. How Enzo had killed Dean, solely because he was with her, but he was another rich person, so it wasn’t really a loss on his end. How Peter ran to kill Aylin, because there could be no witnesses, around the same time Kennedy had gotten her revenge and killed Selin, and Enzo had gone to find Jieun so he could kill her too. He better killed her. Then, one of the worst things that could possibly happen happened. He saw Aranya dead on the deck, and he knew it couldn’t be done by Kennedy, not when he knew she had been busy, which meant one thing. Peter.

Enzo knew what he needed to do but he kept that to himself, allowing Peter to believe that the two of them were okay, that killing Aranya was okay, even let Peter hold onto Mal as Enzo stabbed Mal himself. You didn’t fucking protect her. Those were his only thoughts as he stabbed the man over and over again, until there was silence. Until Peter ended up killing Kennedy, which gave Enzo the perfect chance to kill Peter himself. Stabbed him the same way he stabbed Aranya before dumping his body in the ocean and throwing the knife as far away as he could.

He was done here.

UPDATE: Jieun Park confirmed the mask was the same and Enzo is currently still being held. 

[theotherrookie]

The delivery truck arrived on schedule and right on time, Lucien found himself regretting hiring those people. The driver refused to get out of the vehicle until he was let through the gate in the back of the building and the guy traveling along with him looked like deliveries were just a side hustle to a much more remunerative street fighting business.

Much to their relief, nobody was around to watch them. So both pulled their matching necklaces out of their jumpsuits, the mysterious rune engraved on them shining in the light coming from the back of the flower shop. Lucien didn't spare them more than a glance as he played with his silver coin. He rubbed his thumb on the faded symbol, before putting it back in his pocket.

That was the signal and so the two got to work. The shop was almost back up and running now. He only needed to replace the last shelves Five had been so kind to shove him into during his visit, along with all the gardening supplies that had been contaminated and couldn't be sold anymore. This last order would be enough to be able to finally open up again.

The pallets with all the new equipment were duly placed by the entrance to the back of the shop. He would see to taking it inside later, not caring to have the two grunts watch him struggle with lifting medium sized cardboard boxes.

The real delivery came inside a small wooden chest. Lucien found the setup to be quite pitiful. The heavy steel lock supposedly protecting the chest’s contents did not make up for the fact that somebody had ruined a perfectly well preserved piece of antique by prying it open with a crowbar.

But that was the price of having to rely on uncultured morons. He waited for the driver to hand him the key. The lock surprisingly didn’t disintegrate in the process and he opened the chest to reveal a pair of arm bracers. The studded leather was a little faded, but still sported a very elegant pattern with silver accents. The fae lacked in many fields, but they certainly had taste.

Lucien glanced up at the two as they stood in front of him, “What do you know about these?”

The two shrugged. “They said they’re magical.” the driver replied, “Only somebody important can wear them.”

Lucien eyed the two, “Has anybody been able to confirm this?”

“No.” he lied.

Lucien said nothing as he stared back. Normally, an attempt to defy him would have been more concerning. However, the low level grunts were expendable and rarely believed in the cause of serving his father like the older members did. They probably saw no reason to revere a flower boy half their age and for that, they deserved to be punished.

Plus, stealing a name or two would certainly help him in the upcoming battle. Before that, however, he had to test his new accessories. Lucien moved to put on the arm bracers under the curious look of the two grunts. He adjusted them as the straps tightened on their own and looked them over as the pattern started glowing faintly.

“Fuck. They actually work.”

“Obviously.” Lucien scoffed. He looked himself over once more, then folded his arms over his chest, bringing a hand up to his chin, “Now, then, who do I have to thank for such a good service?”

“The name’s Jacob.”

“…Patrick.”

A faint smirk flashed on Lucien’s face, “Very well, Jacob and Patrick, I want you to pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you now.”

Lucien’s voice echoed in the minds of the two grunts, washing over them like the breeze before an upcoming storm and taking away all negative thoughts and mockery aimed at him. They stood silently, looking expectantly like a pair of obedient dogs.

Lucien then continued, “As soon as you leave this garden, you are going to forget what you have seen here tonight. You will be reporting to your handler that the delivery was successful and that I’m very satisfied with the work of the Brotherhood. As far as you lot are concerned, I am a collector much like my father was. The arm bracers showed no peculiar properties even as I handled them. This was entirely a matter of vanity. Am I understood?”

The two nodded, their gazes still distant.

“Then, go away now.”

The two nodded once more and the van left after a few minutes, the gate shutting behind them.

Lucien listened until the engine’s noise faded into the usual murmur of the city, then he raised his arms to look at his new accessories again.

“Now, then, let’s find out what these bad boys can do.”

[freuleinanna]

thinking about werewolf transformations in the quarry and i literally went: oh. oh.

so I gotta say first, my take on nick was that I flat-out hated the character, and his whole hungry-horny bit was right out of bad fanfiction, but okay. then I got to thinking about other transformations, and I think the point is, they are bound to different emotions the characters have; some emotion that was the strongest for the night or at the moment of transformation.

we've all seen at least 3 charachers wolfing out canonically: nick (I'll get to him later to make my point), max, and laura. we can also see dylan, emma and jacob transform on screen. kaitlyn doesn't transform fully, and abi doesn't transform at all, even if bitten (?? i haven't found any video on that, at least).

emma is the best example, when she transforms in the basement with abi. abi goes cut the shit, emma, show's over, go home, and right away, emma screams FUCK YOU with the following it really hurts. She then repeats 'it hurts' while already talking about the transformation, but the starting point was that abi's words cut her deeply. abi, who was the one to see through emma's disguise, treated her like most other people, an annoying attention-craving girl. emma's insecurity and her relationships with abi triggered the wolf.

jacob spent the whole night heart-broken. first he got dumped, then his friends (during the first chapters) were constantly dragging him, targeting him with his jokes. his insecurity also got triggered when, after all that happened, he found himself alone. he saw ryan and laura down in the basement, and yes, then opened the cage, but then they left. he was alone. everyone was leaving him no matter how hard he'd cling to them. stupid boy. summer's over and you're nothing. she doesn't want you. nobody does! nobody wants you.

dylan is literally the most wholesome boy ever, because throughout the game, he was the protector of others. he goes to juice up the radio, he gives the shotgun away, he follows kaitlyn to the scrapyard. and when he feels he's about to turn, he starts sreaming like hell trying to drive kaitlyn away from him, because he's dangerous. FUCKING RUN! RUN AWAY, KAITLYN! GET AWAY FROM ME! yeah, he's a snac, he attac, but most importantly, he protec <3

laura starts turning in the middle of the fight with chris, and she's actually the one who's able to keep a cool head (much like dylan, who didn't turn wolfy, but stayed on his human emotions). she smacks herself on the head a few times saying not now! not now, come one! quite literally, for her it's a mental fight. her sheer determination to end the curse allowed her to be herself up to this point. she kept her wolf under control for a long time, too, because she was flashing those hot yellow eyes for a while. plus, her wolf was coming and going (like when she just found injured ryan and was all wolfy), and coming and going again (when she bit ryan and had a hard time letting go of his bloodied hand), but her mind prevailed. because her major drive was to stop the curse, and she had work to do.

max is also protective as hell. he might get aggressive with laura, but agression is a part of the wolf. max, on the other hand, tried to distant hiself from laura as much as he could and talked to her as long as he could. he's a sweet boy who loves his girlfriend dont @ me. plus, I love the thought that his growl sounds hell of a lot like distorted laura! and I'm a simp for that.

and that brings us to nick. nick, who, despite being all sweet and nice, gets all obsessive with abi. he demands a verbal confirmation that she likes him, he smells her skin, he's getting posessive with that she's mine! he throws at poor bobster. plus all that abusive shit he says to abi? I only hung out with you because you seemed so desperate. he closes the circle, cuts her away from others, like any abusive shit would do with their only I can tolerate you attitude. but since transformations only amplified the emotions people were already feeling, I think maybe he was just unlucky that his major feeling was romantic. alas, it turned into something ugly, abusive, posessive, and completely different from what he intended it to be. and that's the story of how I went from downright hating nick to feeling profoundly sorry for him.

[mjonthetrack]

The dude’s homeboy must’ve been drunk, dumb, or both. As Ebony’s hoops hit the ground and she lunged forward, ready to finish what she started, the second man grabbed her arm rough, yanking her backward with force that had her staggering a step.

She blinked, not because she was stunned—but because she was about to black out in a whole different way.

But before her fist could fly again, a thick arm slid in, catching hers.

Roman.

The second man didn’t even get to blink before he felt the shift in energy—Roman’s chest pressed into his side as he yanked the dude’s hand off Ebony like it burned him.

“I know you ain’t touch her,” Roman’s voice was calm, low—too calm. That dangerous quiet before thunder cracked. “You put your hands on her?”

The dude tried to backtrack, but Roman stepped in close, taller, broader, cutting his path.

“You real bold for tryna handle a woman like that. You must not value your life,” Roman muttered, dark eyes locked.

Ebony stepped back, chest still heaving from the fight, her hand brushing down her side to where she kept a blade tucked just in case. She didn’t need to use it. Not now.

Roman didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The other dude saw it in his eyes. The violence resting easy in that stillness.

“Get. The fuck. Outta here.”

And he did.

Ebony exhaled slow, licking her bottom lip as she reached down to grab her hoops. “Took you long enough,” she muttered with a sideways smirk.

Roman looked at her, his mouth twitching like he was holding something back.

“You had it,” he said simply.

“Damn right I did.”

But even as she walked off back toward the bar, barefoot and shoulders rolled loose like nothing happened, Roman didn’t take his eyes off her.

Not once.

And for the first time since she hit Detroit, it wasn’t just the club that was hot—it was that slow burn between them that finally sparked something real.

——-

The moment the dust settled and security rushed in too late, Ebony wasn’t waiting on nobody’s commentary. Her earrings were back in, her eyes sharp, adrenaline still cooling beneath her skin like embers under ash.

She spotted Tasha near the edge of the chaos, trying to catch her breath and fix her dress, Jacob now at her side after running in too late. Ebony moved quick, grabbing her girl’s hand tight—no questions, no comments, just that silent “we out” look between real ones.

Then without looking, her other hand reached back.

Gripped Roman’s.

No warning. No explanation. Just instinct.

He didn’t ask no questions either. Just let her take his hand and followed without a word.

They peeled out the club together like it was nothing. Jimmy behind the wheel cussing under his breath, Jacob riding shotgun checking on Tasha, and in the backseat, Ebony slumped with her head tilted back, her legs stretched across the seat, still barefoot, still holding Roman’s hand like it was hers to keep.

The lights of Detroit blurred past the windows. Nobody spoke for a minute. Just the sound of breathing, the bass low from the aux, the weight of what just happened still riding with them.

Finally, Jimmy broke the silence. “Yo… what was that?”

Ebony didn’t even open her eyes. “That,” she said with a little smirk, “was light work.”

And Roman? He just looked down at her hand in his, then out the window again, jaw tight.

He’d seen a lot of women try to be bad. But Ebony didn’t try.

She was.

And she didn’t let go.

———

They made it back to the compound just as the sky started to bruise with the color of late night slipping into early morning. Jimmy barely put the car in park before Ebony was out, heels still in one hand, Roman’s in the other. But halfway up the walkway—when she finally felt that thick Detroit air wrap around her like a weighted blanket—the tension slipped off her spine.

She dropped Roman’s hand without a word. Not because she didn’t want to hold it, but because she no longer needed to grip. The danger was over. For now.

The second the door opened, she stormed in like a whirlwind. Everyone still half-dazed from the chaos. Josh stood in the hallway holding a towel like he was about to shower. Imani, robe on, baby on her hip, gave her cousin the most exasperated look imaginable.

And then—

Rip.

That sundress flew up over Ebony’s head and hit the floor in a heap like it owed her money. Gold chains swinging, grill catching the kitchen light, now in nothing but black boyshorts and a sports bra. She stomped through the living room, yelling at nobody in particular.

“Man, I swear—if that dusty-ass, crust-lipped, fake designer-wearing loser ever so much as looks at me sideways again, I’m droppin’ his ass through the curb like I ain’t out on parole!”

Josh blinked. “...She just—?”

Imani didn’t even look up, already shifting the baby on her hip. “Yeah, she had a 40. Dumbass.”

Ebony kept storming down the hall, still talking shit under her breath, slamming her room door behind her with finality.

The whole room was stuck in that quiet where nobody knew if they should laugh or check on her.

Imani just sighed and rubbed her temples. “She get hot and turnt. Ain’t been like this since Grandma funeral. Damn 40s, man.”

Roman stood near the door, jaw locked but a small smirk tugging at his mouth.

He’d seen her bad. He’d seen her bold.

But barefoot, in the aftermath, tatted up and still cussing?

He was starting to think she might be the most real thing he’d ever seen.

——-

The compound had barely started to settle when the walls rattled with the bassline of “Hard in Da Paint.” It was loud. Disrespectfully loud. Like someone dared the neighbors to say something.

Josh blinked again. “She got speakers in her room?!”

“Nah,” Jimmy muttered. “That’s comin’ from the Bluetooth in the hallway... she ain’t even tryin’ to be slick with it.”

Right on cue, a thick cloud of smoke wafted from under the crack of Ebony’s door—rich, earthy, loud like the song. The kind of gas that said medical grade but didn’t come from no pharmacy.

Jacob coughed once, laughing low. “She back to baseline.”

Tasha came from the kitchen with a juice pouch for the baby and a sideways smirk. “That’s detox for her.”

Imani rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “She too damn old to be acting like a hothead in heat. And who told her to blast Waka at—” she checked the time, “—three-forty-two in the damn morning?”

Roman hadn’t said a word.

Still standing near the hallway, head slightly tilted, jaw flexing.

The door was cracked just enough to let the smoke breathe.

He saw a flash of gold and skin when the light from her phone screen bounced off the walls. She was pacing, slow, letting the music swallow her. She wasn’t just playing it for noise—she felt that shit. It was her unwind. Her gospel. Her purge.

Imani narrowed her eyes at him. “Unc.”

Roman didn’t look back. “Yeah?”

“She got that music on loud enough to bust drywall. If you gon’ go check, go. Otherwise stop standin’ there lookin’ like a deer in love.”

Josh snorted into his drink.

Roman cut his eyes at them once, but didn’t deny it.

He rubbed his palm over his beard slow, sizing it up.

The music didn’t let up. Neither did the smoke.

He exhaled, stepped forward, knocked once on the door—not hard, but not soft either.

A beat. The music lowered a notch. Not off. Just low enough.

Then her voice, raspy and unimpressed from the other side: “If you the landlord, I ain’t payin’ rent. And if you the law, you better have a warrant or a death wish.”

Roman huffed a dry laugh. “Neither. Just a fan of the playlist.”

Another pause. He swore he heard her smile.

“...Door ain’t locked.”

It was up to him now.

Step in or step off.

Because whatever was waiting on the other side of that smoke?

It wasn’t just a high-headed cousin with a temper.

It was a problem—wrapped in soft curves, cold eyes, and the scent of cherry blunts and fire.

————-

Roman stepped through the cracked door like he belonged there.

Didn’t flinch at the bass. Didn’t blink at the smoke.

Ebony was mid-puff, pacing slow in her cropped tee and damn near nothing else—legs long, tattoos glistening from the sheen of sweat and smoke. Her gold anklet caught the light with every barefoot step across the hardwood. “Where Ya At” was bumpin' now, and she was rapping low, lips curling around every bar like she wrote it.

He didn’t say nothing at first. Just leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, letting the scene speak.

She clocked him out the corner of her eye but didn’t stop.

Didn’t cover up. Didn’t skip a beat.

“These bitches want handouts, I do not fuck wit’ no randoms...” she rapped under her breath, rolling her blunt in her fingers with practiced ease, still pacing.

Roman watched. Quiet. Studying.

There was no act with her.

She wasn’t performin’.

She was living.

After another pass, she finally slowed. Cut her eyes toward him, head still bobbing to the beat, but now it was all heat and challenge.

“You just gon’ stand there like a fan, or you came to vibe, Unc?”

Roman’s mouth ticked up slightly. “I came to see if you was good.”

“I’m alive, ain’t I?” she flicked ash in a tray near the window, twisting her lips. “Ain’t shit changed.”

He pushed off the doorframe finally, stepping in like the smoke didn’t even touch him. “You ever think maybe that’s the problem?”

That made her pause.

Just for a second.

Then her smirk returned. She took a long drag, exhaled slow, and stepped up to him close. Real close. Close enough he could see the glint of her bottom grill, smell the henny still warm on her breath, and feel the heat rolling off her bare thighs.

“I am the problem, Roman,” she said low, chin tilted slightly. “Ain’t nobody ever fixed me.”

She stared him down, waiting to see if that would make him fold.

It didn’t.

Roman stepped a little closer, his voice just as low. “Good thing I don’t like easy fixes.”

————-

That grin on Roman’s face?

She wasn’t impressed.

Ebony took one more step, closing the already-small space between them until the air felt tight. Her gold chain brushed his chest, her voice syrup-smooth and bold as ever.

“You think you the first man tried to figure me out?” she asked, eyes locked on his like she was daring him to blink.

Roman didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

So she laughed low—almost a purr. Then?

She kissed him.

Quick, hot, and full of heat like a pressure valve popping. Hands on his chest, lips claiming, tongue slick with intent.

No slow build. No teasing.

She kissed him like she meant to remind him who she was.

And when she pulled back, dark eyes sharp and mouth smug, she reached behind her, pulled a fat blunt from the table, and pressed it into his hand.

“Don’t get it twisted,” she muttered, already turning away. “That was me blowing off some steam. Ain’t shit changed, Unc.”

With that, she walked off barefoot, tattoos flexing with every step, hips swaying unapologetically. The screen door creaked open, then slapped shut behind her as she headed out to the porch like nothing happened.

Roman stood there for a beat, still holding the blunt. Smoke still curling in the air. Music still thumping.

The heat in her kiss?

Still burning on his lips.

But she left him in the thick of it—alone with the vibe, the weed, and whatever the hell just got started.

—————

He stood there a full minute after she dipped.

Blunt in one hand. Shirt clinging to his chest. Lips still tingling from that kiss like she branded her name on him. The scent of her—weed smoke and woman—hung in the room heavier than the music still playing.

Roman ran a hand down his face, let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Damn.

The man who usually had the words, the composure, the plan?

Silent.

Still.

Shook.

Not in fear—but in full awareness he’d just gotten rolled by a Category 5 hurricane wrapped in a sundress and gold jewelry. She kissed him and walked off like it was nothing. Like he was the one that needed time to collect himself.

And shit—he did.

He looked down at the blunt in his hand. Still lit. Still warm from her fingers. The weight of it was almost laughable, like she tossed him the aftermath of a storm and said, “deal with it.”

Behind him, the door creaked open. Josh stepped halfway in, eyes narrowing when he spotted Roman.

“Yo,” he said cautiously. “You good?”

Roman turned slowly, blinked once.

“She really just—?”

“Yeah,” Josh nodded, already grinning. “That’s what she do.”

Roman let out a quiet, breathy laugh and finally took a hit, staring out the window where the wind caught the edge of her dress just before it had come off.

He exhaled smoke through his nose, deep voice low like gravel:

“She different.”

Josh chuckled, heading back down the hall. “Told you don’t play with fire.”

Roman stayed right there. Still buzzin’. Still burning.

And somewhere out front?

That tornado of a woman was probably lighting her second blunt, humming an old Tupac hook and acting like she didn’t just flip the axis of his whole night.

——-

The screen door creaked open behind her, but Ebony didn’t look back.

She sat on the porch rail, legs crossed at the ankle, sundress long gone—now just in a white ribbed tank and boy shorts, skin kissed with tattoos and the porch light catching on her gold chains. The blunt between her fingers danced as she took a slow pull, exhaling with a sigh like the night was finally starting to feel right.

Roman stepped out, leaned against the porch column like it owed him answers.

She flicked ash over the side and spoke without looking.

“You ain’t soft,” she said coolly, eyes on the dark street. “But I wasn’t sure if you was bold.”

Roman quirked a brow, crossing his arms. “And now?”

Ebony glanced over her shoulder, the corner of her mouth twitching up like she was trying not to smile.

“Still jury out,” she muttered. “But I’ll give you points for followin’ me out here.”

He chuckled, low and rich. “You always light fires then walk off?”

“Only when I know they burn slow,” she said, licking her bottom lip before taking another drag. “And I ain’t walk off. I just needed to cool off.”

He pushed off the post, took a slow step forward. “That what this is? Cooling off?”

She finally looked at him fully now—eyes sharp, amused, testing.

“That depends,” she said, holding his stare like it was a competition. “You tryin’ to get warm again?”

For a beat, they just looked at each other. No sound but the quiet hum of the city in the distance, the soft crackle of the blunt burning between her fingers, the tension between them thick enough to cut.

Then she extended the blunt wordlessly.

Roman took it.

And when their fingers touched again, it wasn’t sparks—it was a full ignition.

——

Roman took the blunt from her fingers, slow and deliberate, but she didn’t even flinch at the brush of skin. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t lean in. Just sat back, tapping her gold rings against her thigh while he inhaled.

“You gone stare all night or actually got somethin’ to say?” she asked, her tone dry like she was already unimpressed.

He let the smoke out slow. “You don’t make it easy to speak.”

Ebony gave him a slow once-over, then looked back out at the street like he was background noise.

“Good,” she said flatly. “I don’t like easy.”

Roman chuckled again, but it came out quieter this time. He wasn’t used to being the one thrown off balance. She could tell. That’s why she didn’t give him even an inch of her attention unless she felt like it. Power wasn’t always loud—it was how still you stayed while others shifted around you.

She plucked the blunt back from his hand without asking.

“You think just ’cause you quiet and got a big chest, I’m s’posed to melt?” she muttered, tapping ash again. “Baby, I’ve been flirted with by men way prettier and way dumber. Ain’t none of that moved me.”

Roman blinked. Then grinned. “You think I’m pretty?”

She snorted, stood up, and stretched like she hadn’t just said something slick.

“I think you talk pretty,” she said, turning toward the door. “But we’ll see if you walk the same.”

He watched her walk off, those boy shorts doing damage under the porch light, but her shoulders relaxed like she didn’t care who was looking.

She paused right at the door, cracking it open.

“Oh,” she said over her shoulder, voice calm but cutting, “don’t wait out here hopin’ I’ll come back. I ain’t.”

And just like that, she disappeared inside—leaving him on the porch, half-lit, heart thumping, jaw clenched, still holding the taste of her on the blunt like it was a dare he hadn’t finished yet.

———-

The morning sun hit soft against the compound, birds chirping like the chaos of last night wasn’t still vibrating in the floorboards. Inside, everybody was slow-moving—some from liquor, some from the aftershock of that club brawl, and one man in particular… still stunned silent from the heat that had been Ebony.

But she?

She was cool.

Out front, barefoot on the gravel, she moved like she hadn’t snatched a man by the collar or cussed out half a room. Like she hadn’t left Roman folded on the porch like a damn note passed in school.

She had on a simple tank top knotted at the waist and cotton shorts riding low on her hips. Face bare, lashes still on from the night before. Gold anklet caught the light as she bent over her Cutlass Supreme—an ‘84, paint clean, rims shining like sin in daylight. Her duffle hit the backseat with a practiced toss, like she’d packed and dipped a hundred times before.

Door creaked behind her.

Imani stood on the steps, baby girl Sade balanced on her hip, both of them watching.

“You leaving?” Imani asked, voice soft.

Ebony glanced over her shoulder. “Wasn’t plannin’ to stay. Just needed to see you good… and you are.”

She gave Sade a smile and that same wink that made the baby squeal every time.

“Tell your mama to stop stressin’ over boys and keep lettin’ that little girl light up the world, ya hear?”

Sade gurgled back like she understood.

Imani exhaled, stepping down one step. “You could stay. Ain’t like you got no job you actually care about back home.”

Ebony chuckled, straightening up. “I got my peace back home. And I got shit to handle.” She turned and walked up slow, leaning in to kiss her baby cousin’s cheek, then Sade’s. “But I’ll be back. Just not when y’all expect me.”

From inside, someone moved by the window. Roman. Watching.

She caught it but didn’t give it any weight. Just gave Imani a quick smack to the thigh with her nails and whispered, “Tell ya lil boo to stop peepin’ out windows like a lovesick middle schooler. He not ready.”

Then she slid back down the steps like a dream never meant to stay.

Driver’s side door opened. Tupac’s "Me Against the World" crept out the speakers, raw and real.

She got in, lit her black and mild, and without fanfare, backed down that gravel path—sun catching the glint of her grills, her wrist out the window flicking ash like goodbye didn’t need no words.

———

The early morning hum of Ebony’s Cutlass groaned low as she backed it toward the edge of the gravel. Her duffle was already packed and tossed in the back seat—hood-style efficiency, not a thread out of place. She had her windows down, Tupac bumpin’ low, and a black-and-mild perched between her fingers as she adjusted her rearview.

She didn’t expect no goodbyes.

And she damn sure didn’t expect Roman to be the one easing up beside her car, quiet as a shadow with shoulders broad enough to block the sunrise.

He knocked once on the roof of her Cutlass—solid and sure.

She paused, eyes sliding over to him like she already knew who it was. “You lost, Island?”

Roman raised a brow, head tilted just enough to catch the light in his eyes. “You really gon’ dip out like that?”

Ebony took a slow drag, blew smoke out the side of her mouth before speaking. “You thought I was stayin’? I ain’t no housecat, baby. I did what I came to do.”

He smirked, tongue against his teeth. “Nah. You came, stirred shit up like a storm, dropped bodies, dropped jaws, and now you tryna disappear like fog.”

She cut him a look over her shoulder, eyes dark and still. “Ain’t nothin’ left to do but slide. My city still need me. My block still hot. My mama still talk shit on Sundays.”

Roman stepped a little closer. “That right?”

His voice was low, not quite soft, but measured. Calm like still water hiding depth. “Funny how you roll up like a damn tornado, but I finally got used to your noise…and now you duckin’ off in silence.”

Ebony arched a brow, mouth twitching into something dangerously close to a smirk. “Used to me already?”

Roman leaned down, one arm resting on the top of her car like it was his own. “I ain’t blinked since you walked in that house in a bonnet and boy shorts, talkin’ reckless with a pistol tucked and a baby on your hip.”

She chuckled low, looking out toward the street. “So what you want, Roman? A goodbye hug?”

He shook his head once. “Nah. I want a reason.”

She tapped her ash, leaned her head back on the headrest. “'Cause if I stay, I might get comfortable. And that ain’t never been safe for me.”

Roman’s jaw flexed, and for a second, the silence between them stretched long.

Then he leaned just enough to whisper, “Maybe it’s time you see what safe really feel like.”

Ebony went still.

Then, without another word, she reached behind her seat, grabbed the 40 she stashed just in case, and handed it to him like a peace offering.

“Hold that down for me,” she said, finally. “I might spin the block again soon.”

And just like that, she hit play—Pac’s “Hail Mary” crept back up as she pulled off slow, the scent of smoke trailing behind.

Roman stood there, holding her 40, watching her Cutlass disappear down the street like she was never there.

But he knew better.

Tornadoes always come back around.

—————

Imani had just got Sade settled with her juice and her cartoons when she heard the front door click open behind her. She turned from the kitchen counter, half-expecting one of the twins or maybe Jacob looking for breakfast.

But it was Roman.

And he looked… like a man trying to walk off a ghost.

He stepped inside slow, broad shoulders carrying something heavier than usual. Eyes unreadable. And in his hand—clear as day—was Ebony’s 40, the label half-sweated off and still cold.

Imani blinked once, then crossed her arms with a little smirk. “She gave you the bottle, huh?”

Roman didn’t answer right away. Just stood there like he’d gotten caught in a different kind of storm. One that smelled like Newports, Hennessy, and cocoa butter.

“She gone,” he muttered finally, voice low.

Imani leaned back against the counter, eyes softening with the kind of knowing only blood can give. “Yeah. That’s what she do. Come loud, leave quiet.”

Roman looked at her, jaw ticking once like he was chewing on something he didn’t want to spit out. “She say she might come back.”

Imani let out a breath through her nose. “She might. But Ebony don’t stick nowhere long. She’s like lightning—you feel her long after she’s gone, but try to catch her?” She shook her head. “You just gon’ burn yourself.”

Roman stared down at the bottle in his hand, thumb running along the rim. “She different.”

“That’s one word for it,” Imani muttered, grabbing a rag and wiping the counter. “But don’t get it twisted—she got love in her. That’s why she showed up in the first place.”

Roman didn’t say anything.

Just placed the 40 down on the table, like he didn’t know what else to do with it.

Imani watched him for a second, then added softer, “But don’t take it personal if she don’t call. That girl’s been surviving for a long time. And sometimes survival don’t leave space for goodbyes.”

Roman nodded once, slow and heavy.

Then he looked out the window like maybe—just maybe—he’d hear that Cutlass come rumbling back up the driveway.

But all he saw was sun on gravel and an empty stretch of road.

——-

He wasn’t even supposed to be out this early.

He had no real reason to hit that corner store on 7 Mile besides needing a minute—some air, some space, maybe a cold drink. But when he stepped into that dusty little spot, the bell over the door chiming lazily, his eyes locked on the silhouette at the back cooler and every reason for being there realigned.

Ebony.

Bent over the snack shelf in that same damn Old Dirty Bastard tee and black biker shorts that gripped her like they were stitched on. Her long legs steady, the oversized duffle bag now slung over one shoulder like she was halfway to catching a Greyhound.

She hadn’t seen him yet.

Not until she stood upright, bag of Hot Fries in one hand, honey bun and a Red Bull in the other. Her gold rings flashed under the fluorescents as she tossed the snacks on the counter. That same cold-steel nonchalance wrapped around her until she turned slightly and caught sight of him near the fridge.

Their eyes met.

And her head tilted—chin up, lips parted just barely—like she wasn’t sure whether to smirk or stay unreadable.

“Roman,” she drawled slow, name rolling off her tongue like smoke. “You followin’ me now?”

He stepped forward, hands in his pockets, voice low. “You left your 40.”

Ebony sucked her teeth lightly. “Wasn’t leavin’ it. Was leavin’ you with it. Somethin’ to remember the ass whoopin’ I gave you yesterday.”

He chuckled once, head shaking. “You just gonna dip without a word?”

“I dipped with a bottle. That’s a love letter where I’m from.”

She turned to the cashier, slid him a folded twenty. No wallet, just bills pressed and tucked. Her way. Smooth. Straightforward. Then, back to Roman, she grabbed her bag of chips and drink, slow-rolled the honey bun between her fingers.

“You good?” he asked.

That stopped her. For a breath.

She nodded, just once. “Yeah. But you? You look like you still tryna figure out if last night was real.”

“I ain’t forgot none of it.”

She met his gaze and this time her smirk bloomed full. “Good. I don’t like being forgettable.”

With that, Ebony brushed past him, the scent of shea butter and gas station strawberry lip gloss lingering like a promise and a warning.

Roman turned slightly to watch her walk out the door, that duffle bouncing against her hip, a gold anklet glinting under the hem of her shorts.

She didn’t look back.

Didn’t need to.

He stood there a long minute.

Then finally muttered to himself, “Nah… I ain’t forgot.”

————-

Ebony was already halfway to the Cutlass, Hot Fries tucked under her arm, sipping on that Red Bull like it was her morning coffee. She didn’t flinch when the door behind her swung open hard, the bell jangling like it knew what was up. She just popped the trunk without looking back, same slow, deliberate rhythm.

Roman stepped out, that quiet storm brewing behind his steps. Hands loose by his sides, expression unreadable but locked in.

“Ain’t no point,” he said finally, his voice cutting through the early air like it belonged there. “Ain’t no point in you leaving like that.”

Ebony froze, only for a beat. Then slid her snacks into the passenger seat like she hadn’t heard him.

He came closer, a few steps away from her now. “You came all the way out here on go mode. Ready to raise hell for your people. Then dipped before the smoke cleared.”

She turned around, leaned her hip into the car door, her stare cool and direct.

“I came to make sure my cousin and her people was good. You seen her? She good. Mission complete.”

Roman nodded slowly. “That all this was to you? A mission?”

Ebony let the silence stretch.

Then, “You actin’ like we was somethin’ besides two folks that had a moment. A few, if we bein’ real. You grown, right? You know what that was.”

He stepped forward again, his jaw clenched but his voice calm. “I know what you want to act like it was. But I was there too, E.”

The nickname softened something in the air. Just a little.

She looked away, eyes narrowing like she was trying to look past him—past whatever this pressure was bubbling between them.

“I don’t do attachments,” she murmured. “I sure as hell don’t do stayin’.”

“Then don’t stay,” Roman replied. “But don’t lie like it ain’t nothin’. You don’t do fake. So don’t fake this.”

Ebony stared at him, lips pressed together, the flicker of conflict moving behind her eyes like a shadow.

Then, finally—soft, not weak—she asked, “What you want, Roman?”

He didn’t rush it. Didn’t fold.

“Same thing I wanted since the first time I saw you post up on that car like you ran the block,” he said. “I want you. Here. Now. Not pretendin’ you don’t care.”

Ebony looked at him. Looked through him.

Then sighed like something inside her cracked just enough to let the truth out.

“Get in the damn car then,” she muttered, walking around to the driver’s side. “But I swear, if you try to play me soft, I’ll make you regret every mile.”

Roman pulled the door open and slid in.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

And just like that, the Cutlass rumbled to life. Loud. Confident. Headed nowhere specific, but moving like something worth chasing was finally in the passenger seat.

——

[hangmanbrainrot]

Heyo! I’d like to make a request if that’s alright. I want to know how hangman would react to his pregnant wife enjoy sleeping on her pregnancy pillow more than in his arms. Because we can all tell his major love language would be physical touch ❤️ Thank you❤️

hopefully i did your request justice, anon! <3 i'll be labeling pregnancy as a warning in the tags, as well as in the warnings below, since i know that can be triggering for some.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader has children, established relationship, marriage, swearing, sierra has decided jake's middle name is michael.

notes: none!

word count: 680

pairing: jake seresin x afab!reader

the pillow thief

The first time Jake saw the godforsaken pillow was when it arrived on your doorstep from Amazon. See, such a large box naturally drew his attention, and he’d just about dragged it in the house when you came waddling down the stairs — you and the children you’d been growing for 24 weeks.

“Oh my god, it's here!” You'd said, and he'd been cursing the damn thing ever since. The problem wasn't with the pillow itself, but rather the fact that you'd rather cuddle it than your husband some nights. 

Now, six weeks later, Jake was more than a little grouchy and okay, yeah, he was pouting, but he was tired of not being able to hold you close at night. Every night, you'd beat him up to your bedroom so you were already curled up with the thing and half snoring before he even had a chance to make a move. But tonight, when you'd gotten up to go to the bathroom — and declined his many offers to help — he saw his window of opportunity. In the time you were gone, he'd managed to stuff the grey polyester under your king sized bed before you'd even turned on the faucet to wash your hands.

The man could barely hide his self-satisfied grin when you re-emerged, but he definitely hadn’t prepared for the absolute panic on your face.

“Oh no,” you’d said softly. Were your eyes welling up? “Not again.” 

“Baby?” Jake tested, brows knitted together in confusion. “Baby, what’s going on?” 

“Lulu stole my pillow, again!” you practically wailed in response, tears already dribbling down your cheeks. “Jakey, you didn’t see her? The pillow thief. I’m gonna start closing our bedroom door at night, I can’t believe this. She’s probably already chewing on it and I’m gonna have to order another one.”

By the time you’d finished speaking, you were verging into the territory of hysterical, so Jake quickly decided the jig was up. 

“Wait, wait, wait, before you exile our poor sweet girl…” He released a heavy sigh, then bent to slide his hand under the bed. He couldn’t let your dog take the fall for his theft; his conscience would never let him live it down. As soon as you realized what was going on, you gasped aloud. 

“Jacob Michael Seresin!”

He’d just settled the pillow back on the bed when he glanced up to catch sight of the downright fury in your gaze. He knew you loved him, otherwise he couldn’t have convinced you to marry him and have not one, but three children with him. (The twins were a surprise, nobody on either side of either of your families had produced any. Until now.) But Jake was also fairly certain you would love to exact some sweet revenge on him right about now. He had to clean this up, and fast.

“Okay, let me explain. I just wanted…”

“This had better be a good fuckin’ explanation, Jake.”

To say he was on thin ice was putting it lightly. No, right now, he was out in the middle of a frozen lake and cracks were appearing more rapidly by the minute.

“I wasn’t going to hide it from you forever. I just… Um, maybe, sort of wanted you to, y'know, hold me instead. Pretend I'm the pillow.”

For the first time in the history of your entire relationship, Jake had absolutely no idea what your expression meant. It was fucking terrifying. As you crept closer to him, Jake found himself sliding back further on your mattress to be closer to the headboard. You were downright vicious with a pillow when you needed to be, and he was worried he’d provoked you just enough this evening.

But, instead, you threw your arms around him as tightly as you could with your still-growing children between you. The sigh you released was downright dreamy when you spoke, but the contrast between your words and the sound had Jake’s head spinning. “Oh, honey. If you try something like this again, you’ll be sleeping on the couch until the twins are toddlers.”

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Love In Slow Motion (Chapter One) - Fezco

A/N: okay, so I know nobody asked for this but it was just floating around my mind and it wasn’t going to go away until I wrote it so... here it is, it will follow the timeline of the show as of today, except only the interactions the reader has with Fez, if that makes sense xD hahaha hope you enjoy!

Warnings: +18, reader is 18, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of family abuse, drugs and alcohol, spoilers for S1E6 (sort of), Euphoria themes, basically

Disclaimer: I don’t own Euphoria :) gif isn’t mine :D

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Love In Slow Motion

It's been a while since we've been alone To turn off the world and the telephone I need to tell you you're beautiful 'Cause it's been a while and I apologize

The first time she walked into Fez’s store, it was by chance. Well, not really, she had asked me where it was. But Fez could have sworn it was fate. She walked in with a black skirt that had flowers on it, a white top, and a yellow cardigan that was longer than her skirt. But what Fezco loved most was her shoes. Converse. Two different colors. One red, one white.

“Um, hello” you said shyly, approaching the guy sitting on a chair outside of the store, lighting up a joint. You knew who he was, everyone did. But you had never spoken to him. “You’re Fez, right?”

“Who’s asking?” he said, still not looking at you. That’s when he saw them. Your shoes. He slowly looked up and his blue eyes finally met yours.

You smiled nervously sticking out your hand before quickly moving it away. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that” you muttered, embarrassed, feeling your cheeks burning.

See, the first thing you have to know about her is that she hates her entire family. And I don’t mean like those families who have regular issues but love each other in the end. No. She truly despises her family. I don’t blame her. If I was born into the Jacobs family, I’d probably hate them too. Her older brother, Aaron, was a fuck-up. She could tell her dad didn't like Aaron, didn't think he had guts or brains, or half a fucking clue. And she agreed. She didn’t like her mother either. She was weak, and a pushover. She had grown up vowing to herself that she would never let any man manipulate her as much as her father and brothers did with her mother. She was also the one that hated her Converse. Well, not only her. All of her family did for some reason. Except maybe Aaron. He didn’t give a shit about them.

“Nah, you good” he said with a smile that you missed because you were playing with the hem of your skirt. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, making you look back at him.

“Um, R-Rue said you could help me?”

“You a friend of Rue?” he asked and you nodded slightly.

“Uh, yeah, you could say that” you replied. You weren’t sure how you would describe your relationship with Rue, but you would like to say you were friends.

“What you need, ma?” he asked, making your heart flutter a little at the nickname.

“Um… just… some weed, uh, please?” you asked with a nervous smile. Fezco resisted the urge to smile at how adorable you were.

“Sure” he said, getting up. “I got you” he said, stopping at the entrance. “Come on” he nodded his head for you to follow him. And you did.

As for the rest of her family, she wasn’t sure who she hated more. Her father, or her brother Nate. They were basically the same person. She knew from a young age that Nate was her father’s favorite. Anybody could see it. She didn’t really mind that.

You saw Fez go in the back and you waited walking around the store. While you were waiting, you heard your phone buzz for about the tenth time. You pulled it out to see Nate’s name on it and quickly ignored it. But it was followed by a text. Again.

[Nate] - where the fuck are you?! you have to come home RIGHT NOW!

You rolled your eyes and put your phone away. “Fucking asshole” you muttered under your breath. You felt your eyes watering again and some tears escaped down your cheeks but you quickly wiped them away.

What she hated was the way she was always compared to Nate. And how her father never failed to remind her that he only wanted sons. So, really no matter what she did, she would never be good enough for either one of them. So she gave up a long time ago. But she hated how everyone around her was so fucking blind, thinking Nate was perfect. She always knew the reason why she and Nate didn’t get along was because she was the only one who saw through his bullshit. And Nate hated her for it. Which is what brought her here in the first place.

“That it? Do you need anything else?” Fez asked, coming over to the register and when he saw you, he noticed you were crying. “Hey, you okay?”

“Y-yeah” you said, smiling nervously again. “I’m fine” you assured him. “Could I also get a pack of cigarettes and some… um, M&M's? Please?” you asked, trying not to let your voice break.

“Sure” Fez said hesitantly, grabbing what you asked for. “So, weed, cigarettes, and M&M's” he chuckled. “Not a bad combo” he said, smiling at you.

Your heart melted along with the anger that you felt just a moment ago. “Birthday special, I guess” you chuckled sadly as you took out your wallet.

“Yo, it’s your birthday?” he asked and you nodded. “No shit! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks” you smiled. He was the first person to say happy birthday to you all day. Lexi hadn’t been at school. Kat seemed to have a fucking terrible day. Jules probably didn’t know. Rue never really remembered. And everyone else only wished Nate a happy birthday. And you had the same fucking birthday! “Um, how much do I owe you?”

“Oh, nothin’” he shrugged. “‘S on the house” he said, packing up your things.

“What?” you asked, confused as you tried to give him your money. “N-no, you don’t have to-”

“‘S cool, ma” he insisted.

“I- um… r-really?”

“Yeah. Birthday special” he winked at you.

“Thank you” you smiled.

And that was it. Fez knew that he was done for. That smile was going to be the death of him. And he would do whatever he could to see that smile again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next time that Fez saw her was at Halloween. I remember because it was one of those rare times that I was sober. I know that I rarely see Fez when I’m sober, but I swear I saw his face light up when he saw her walk into the house dressed as Elvira Hancock in a teal blue satin gown, a blonde wig, one blue Converse, and one green.

“Holy shit” Fez muttered under his breath. He saw you walk in with your friends and he felt like he was going to die. You scanned the room as you lit up your cigarette and then you spotted him. Your smile got bigger and he felt his heart racing faster when he saw you make your way towards him.

“Hey, Tony” you said, happily, sitting next to him.

“No shit! Elvie!” he said excitedly, smiling back at you. Both of you being completely oblivious to Rue, Jules, Kat, and Lexi looking at you. “Lookin’ good, ma” he said, making you blush a little. It was nice to hear that as opposed to the comments you received in your house for going out dressed like this.

“Really?” you asked, making Fez frown his eyebrows in confusion at the surprised tone in your voice.

“Why would I lie?” he smiled softly at you.

“Thanks” you said, smiling back. “You look really good too” you told him. “Um, do you want one?” you asked, offering him your cigarettes.

“Sure” he said, taking one. “You all set for tonight? You need anything? Weed? Cigarettes? M&M's?” he chuckled.

“You remember” you laughed, a bit embarrassed.

Another thing about her was that people rarely remembered anything about her. Since everyone was fucking obsessed with Nate for some reason, she just kind of floated in the background. So, when someone did remember something about her, she felt a little wave of happiness pass through her. She sometimes imagined if that’s how Nate felt all the time. Even if it was something as simple as remembering that she liked M&M’s. She often wondered what it would be like if someone loved her as much as Maddy loved Nate. But, you know, in a non-toxic way.

“‘Course I remember” Fez smiled at you.

“Do you really have M&M’s on you?” you asked curiously.

“I could find some” he said, making your heart melt.

You were about to say something else when all of the sudden silence took over the room. You noticed everyone was looking at the door, so you turned too and you saw your brother walking in dressed as a prisoner and Maddy by his side dressed as Iris from Taxi Driver. You felt like the world was in slow motion. Your brother’s eyes locked with yours and a sickening grin appeared on his face as the people in the party actually started fucking chanting his name.

See, the thing is, she knew what happened between Nate and Maddy. And she knew what Nate had done to make it go away. When Nate was arrested, I swear I could see a smile on his sister’s face. And maybe even relief. But of course, her parents told her that she was fucking insane for even thinking about her brother that way. Of course, they could never believe that their perfect son would do such a thing. Like I said, she always knew the reason why Nate hated her so much was because she was the only one who saw through his bullshit. She had told him to stay away from Maddy, but of course, he didn’t listen. And he knew that if it was his word against hers, everyone would believe him.

“Hey” you were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Fez’s hand on your arm and you turned to look at him. “You good?”

“Um- y-yeah, I just… um… I have to go” you said, getting up. “Sorry, I have to go outside and meet Lexi, but I’ll see you around?” you smiled at him and he could only nod before you got out of sight.

Fez thought about going after you, but he was quickly distracted with some of his regular customers. It wasn’t until a couple of hours later that he saw you again, outside, wasted. He saw you dancing around with Rue’s other friend, Jewel. He smiled a little at how happy and carefree you looked, but it didn’t last long.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you felt someone grab your arm forcefully, turning you around and you faced your brother.

“Hi, Tate” you smiled at him before you laughed. “Oh my God, remember when we were kids and I called you Tate because I couldn’t say Nate? And then I called you Tater Tot?” you giggled.

“How fucking wasted are you?” he said, glaring at you.

“I’m just having fun, Tate” you laughed.

“Don’t call me that! You’re going home right now!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Why the fuck do you care? Just go off with your little girlfriend and leave me the fuck alone” you said, taking another sip of your drink, but Nate grabbed it from you and threw it away. “Nate, what the fuck-?”

“I'm not gonna let you fucking embarrass me again, I swear to fucking God-”

“Me? I’m embarrassing you? You’re the one coming in here dressed like the fucking convict that you are!” you said, making him tighten the grip on your arm.

“At least I didn’t come here dressed like a fucking slut! You’re fucking disgusting-!”

“I’d rather be a slut than a fucking woman beater-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence because Nate pushed you, making you fall backwards into the pool. You resurfaced, feeling your makeup running down your face and your wig floating not far from you. “What the fuck, Nate?!”

Nate laughed a little before he squatted down, looking at you. “I think it’s best that you go home now that your outfit is ruined, sis” he said before standing up and walking away.

You grabbed your wig and made your way out of the pool, feeling the fucking cold wind on your back and you hugged yourself as you felt the tears starting to fall down your cheeks.

“Hey, you okay?” you heard Fez coming over to you. The last thing he saw was you dancing with Jules, and now you were soaking wet, crying.

“Um- y-yeah, I just… I have to go” you said, trying to walk away from him but he followed you.

“You need a ride?”

“I um- I don’t-” you tried, but you weren’t really sure what you wanted. “I don’t know-”

“Fuck, you’re freezing. C’mere” he said, taking off his jacket and placing it around your shoulders.

At that moment, she could have sworn that the world froze. She wasn’t used to people caring about her. She had friends and she assumed that her family would at least care if she ended up dead somewhere. Maybe her mom at least. But nobody had ever really taken care of her. Or at least not without an ulterior motive. People weren’t usually nice to her if it wasn’t because they wanted to get close to Nate mostly. But right here, right now, Fez was just being nice. Just because he saw she was cold and he tried to help. When she saw the concern in his deep blue eyes, she could have sworn, that it was the closest thing to love she had ever experienced.

“I’m okay” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?”

“Yeah” you nodded.

“Hey” you turned around and saw Lexi calling your name and walking over to you. “What happened to you?”

“Um, n-nothing, I just… tripped and fell into the pool” you said, laughing.

“Shit, do you wanna go?” she asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I think maybe we should go” you said, looking back to where Nate was drinking with Maddy, still glaring at you.

“Okay, let me just go tell Cassie, alright?” she said, and you nodded before she walked away.

“You two need a ride?” Fez asked again.

“Nah, we’re good” you assured him. “Lexi drove and I’m spending the night at her place so…” you said and he nodded. “Thank you… for helping me” you said.

“No problem, ma” he smiled. You saw Lexi signaling you that it was time to go and you sighed. You would have loved to stay and spend more time with Fez, but you knew you had to leave now.

“Um, I have to go” you said, removing his jacket from your shoulders and handing it to him. “Thanks again, Fez” you smiled at him.

“See you around” he said, taking it. You started making your way over to Lexi when he called you back. “Yo, hold on!” you turned around and saw that he walked over to you. “Um, here” he said, grabbing a bag of M&M’s from the pocket in his jacket and handing it to you. His smile got wider when he saw the joyful look on your face.

“No shit! You actually had M&M’s on you?” you asked, excitedly.

“I told you I could find some” he said.

“Oh, Uh- I don’t have any…” you said, showing up your damped, destroyed bag. “Sorry-”

“Don’t sweat it, ma” he laughed. “‘S on the house.”

“You know, if you keep giving me stuff for free I’m gonna get used to it and you’re going to end up going broke” you chuckled.

“Spousal discount, baby” he winked at you.

“Don’t call me ‘baby’! I’m not your baby” you arched your eyebrow at him smirking, making him laugh. “See you around, Tony.”

“See you around… Elvie.”

And then, Fez knew. Her smile was the closest thing to love he had ever felt.

To Be Continued

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

[Ch.2]

A/N: ahhh xD please let me know what you think! I have more Fez imagines to come :) 

[ameliasbitvh]

🎨- you and nate had an argument at a party so we’ll you’re like talking to maddy Cassie go over to Nate and starts flirting with him and maddy tells us but like it’s a non confrontational type reader so we say no and ask like fez or Lexi to bring us home and once we’re gone maddy goes and like yells at Nate and then Nate makes it up to us

-🧚

make it up to you ; nate x reader

[ euphoria masterlist ]

“what the fuck are you wearing, y/n!” nate barked out. you were dressed in a black dress that was just revealing enough to show your cleavage and there was a cut down your thigh, exposing your soft skin.

the lights beamed of bright green, blue and purple in the crowded party house.

“a dress? what else would i be wearing, dumbass?” you crossed your arms, your breast pressing up each other.

“you think you’re so fucking funny dont you?” he growled into your ear.

“oh, the oh so great, nate jacobs. of course i do.” you laughed, pushing him off of you.

that only angered him.

his brows furrowed and he pulled his lip with his teeth. “you better watch your fucking dirty mouth, bitch.”

“make me!” you exclaimed tired of his bullshit.

“make you? fucking make you? what do you think i’m trying to do right now, y/n! go fucking change!” he ordered, his hand flew, pointing at the bathroom.

you rolled your eyes. “it’s my body! i can wear whatever i want!”

“i don’t need anyone to be looking at you! i don’t need you to be a fucking tease to anyone but me!”

“well, what if i want to be! it’s not like i’m a fucking object and yours to ke—

“shut the fuck up!”

all eyes were on you two.

“you know what? i’m gonna be the bigger person and end this conversation.” you scoffed.

“bigger person? why don’t you fucking change then like i told you to!”

you held your hand up, blocking his face. “put your hand down and listen to me.”

“sorry what was that? did anyone hear that or am i just going crazy?” you asked, feigning confusion.

nobody responded.

turning around you faced him once again, “mhm...maybe you’re the crazy one?” following before you let him have the last word you walked away to join the many others at the party.

walking to your best friend a smile graced your lips, “maddy!”

“hey, bitch. you look hot as fuck! if i were nate and saw you in that dress, girl we would be upstairs fucking right now.” she laughed.

“please, babe, i would let you either way.”

“fucking bitch.” nate mumbled under his breath as he watched you leave. suddenly he felt a hand crawl up his shoulder, turning around he was met with a blonde. cassie howard.

“hey there,” she smiled, biting her lip.

“oh, hey.” he cleared his throat. did she really have to come up to him now?

“so what was that all about? little girlfriend getting on your nerves again? i can help you with that.” she smiled drunkenly, her index finger intertwined in her hair.

“what the fuck is happening over there?” maddy scoffed, her eyes focused on the blonde and brunette duo.

“what are you talking abo—“ you questioned, turning around you saw what she was looking at. “oh...”

“bitch go tell him.”

“no, i’m not going to.”

“why not?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“because if he’s a good boyfriend he’ll know himself to not mess around with her. if he does that’s all on him.” you said in a monotone.

“you know what? for once i think you might be right.” she bursts out laughing.

“let’s get some drinks and have fucking fun!” you laughed with her, dragging her by the hand to grab red solo cups to indulge yourself in to forget the fight, forget nate, forget cassie. right now it was you, maddy and the alcohol that swam in the cup you held.

after an hour had passed you started to feel...well not good. “fuck,” you sighed, hand on your head.

“ay, you good, y/n?” you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

your eyes squinted as you tried to make out the figure coming closer, (just to make sure it wasn’t a killer). finally his red hair came into frame, “oh — fez, yeah i’m a...okay i guess?”

“it don’t seem like you are though.” he said, genuine concern laced in his tone. wow, how you wish nate had the capability to as well.

“you need a ride home? i can take you?” he offered, a small smile decorating his face.

you thought about it for a moment, a moment too long. your ride home tonight was supposed to be nate, but seeing the way tonight played out it was probably best to not rely on him to take you home.

“yeah,”

before you both got into the car, you chugged a bottle of water, hoping it would get you some what sober. just so you don’t appear to look like an alcoholic when you get to your house. and just to be safe you told maddy you were leaving. “maddy, i’m gonna go home.” you told her over the loud music.

“what?” she questioned, her hands moving with her body.

“i’m gonna go home!”

her brows furrowed. “who’s taking you?!” her hands flew to her hips.

“fez!” you replied.

“does nate know?” she asked.

“no, but can you tell him?”

“yeah!”

soon maddy watched you leave the party with fez, but all she could think about was her best friends cunt of a boyfriend and not in that way.

she didn’t know how or when, but suddenly she was in front of nate jacobs yelling at him as if there was no tomorrow. “you dumb fucking bitch! you start arguing with her just for her to leave and you’re gonna be a man whore and start talking to other bitches? you don’t even know where she is right now, don’t you?”

“what the fuck, maddy?”

“don’t “what the fuck” me! you know exactly what you were doing when you were talking to cassie. if you’re trying to fuck around with y/n only, just fucking fuck off!” she shouted, giving a push to the taller boy.

“dont fucking tou — what are you trying to say?” but he knew exactly what she said. he was nate jacobs and he had a reputation of playing girls leaving them to walk down heartbroken avenue.

“you know exactly what i mean.” she growled and stomped away. no way in hell would she let her best friend get played by a fucking douche bag.

“where is she?” he exclaimed before maddy got out of hearing distance. she stopped in her tracks for a moment. “fez took her home.” and following she continued to walk, ignoring his complaints.

“fez. fucking fezco?! why the fuck — why didn’t she just...” then her remembered the argument the two of you just had, him talking to cassie, maddie yelling at him. of course you didn’t want him to take you home. but he’d make it up to you.

“fuck it.”

he raced out of the party and i to his truck, quickly he revved the engine and pressed his foot to the gas and sped to your house.

once he arrived he saw that your light was still on in your room. “thank god.” he murmured and paced to your door step.

then he proceeded to knock on your door. first three knocks, no reply. he knocked again. no reply.

“just open the damn door!” he demanded, he knew you were on the other side. your parents weren’t home so he didn’t have to worry about confused parents wondering why he was banging on their door at 1 am.

“please...y/n, please open the door.” he begged and with a sigh he banged his head into the door but it never hit the hard wood.

you opened the door.

so, instead he fell into your arms and you stumbled back, landing on your back with the tall boy on top of you.

“well, this is one way to let me in.” he smiled and you giggled at him.

but then you remembered the earlier events that had occurred.

doing so, you cleared your throat and gently pushed him off of you.

closing the front door you faced him. “nate. what are you doing here?”

“listen...i — i’m...i’m sorry. i’m sorry for arguing with you over that damn dress. you looked beautiful baby, but i didn’t want anyone to look at what’s mine.” his eyes scanned you, and he noticed your new attire. his t-shirt and a pair of cheeky undies.

a smile grew on his face. his hands connected to your hips and roamed your body for a moment. “let me make it up to you, mhm?”

a/n: this is longer than my normal dialogues ( i think 😭 ?? )

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

≛ 𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴.

≛ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

≛ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1𝘬

≛ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢 /𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘥𝘰𝘮 (𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪), 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘥𝘶𝘩.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

i’m gonna be honest

that whole “innocent bby deku🥺” shit is played out. this man will demolish your pussy and will not apologize for it.

izuku has the full capacity to be rough in bed, so don’t let his sweet and demure presence fool you

he’s really into overstim surprisingly enough

watching you stir and keen as you cum again for the third time in a row fills him with a sense of pride

knowing nobody else could make you whine like this, make you sputter and stumble over each word, make you cream all over the dick the way he does

he also adores fucking you to the point where you can’t form a comprehensible sentence

he’ll give you deep, slow strokes while holding a bullet vibe directly to your swollen clit, pine eyes sparkling as he watches you plead for him to stop, yet buck your hips into him, chasing another orgasm.

calls you bunny instead of puppy bc ew

“you’re so insatiable, bunny. you like it when i—ah, fuck!—tease your pussy like this? ‘like it when i take what’s mine?”

the pleasure is overwhelming, insurmountable as he brings you to that prepice over and over again until you’re crying.

he’ll then flip you onto your stomach, hands digging into the dimples and slopes of your hips before absolutely impaling you on his length

he’s thick, and comes in at a solid 6-7 inches, so you’re always sore after a round or two

also

breeding kink. like a major one.

izuku wasn’t always the most confident in his abilities as a boyfriend let alone a lover

so when you started letting him cum inside you it was a huge boost

likes breeding you before work so he can think about the guys that hit on you in the break room smelling the scent of sex all over your body as you walk past them, sticky white fluid creeping down the leg of your pantyhose.

he couldn’t keep other guys from looking at you, but he could damn sure remind you of who you belonged to.

oh, and he’ll slide two fingers in once he’s done and scoop as much of his cum between them as possible before slipping them in your mouth so he can watch you suck it all off

this mf is possessive and nasty.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

facefucking.

that’s it. send tweet

nah but in all seriousness, katsuki loves watching your eyes well up with tears as you squeeze and milk his dick for all it’s worth.

he’s a good 7-7.5 inches

not an insane amount of girth but the length more than compensates for it

most definitely uses it as a punishment

and isn’t afraid to do it while you’re in public either

which brings us to his exhibition kink

he’s very prideful when it comes to his reputation as a hero, so you would think that it would keep him from doing anything scandal worthy

wrong

it only adds to the searing arousal he gets from watching your tongue fondle his sensitive head, knees bruised from being beneath him for so long

it’s a power trip for him, especially if he’s in costume

depending on your behavior, he’ll be generous and let you swallow while praising your performance

or he’ll wrap a hand around the back of your neck, slide your mouth off of his spit-soaked cock, and stroke himself until his cum splatters all over your eyelashes, fully debauching you in the desolate alleyway

he’s made you walk back home with cum all over your face before, after you’d been particularly bratty over the course of a week

“katsuki! i can’t walk back home like this, what if someone notices?!”

“should’ve thought about that before you decided to visit me while you weren’t wearing any fuckin’ panties. nasty little girl...now hurry up and get a move on, and you better not wipe it off either.”

loves the thrill of humiliating you

unrelated, but he’s an ass man through and through, taking such pleasure in watching it jiggle and ripple under each heavy blow he delivers

takes photos of the marks afterwards and has an album for em.

he also loves fucking you on different surfaces around your penthouse (and his agency)

the man is territorial

so what better way to mark his territory than by making his gorgeous girlfriend squirt and cream all over it?

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰:

babe i am so sorry for your neighbors

cause if there’s nothing else shinsou loves it’s to make you scream

he’s got a corruption kink, but not in the way most people do

he doesn’t give a damn if you’re sweet and innocent, or if you’ve got the mouth of a sailor and could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch

what matters to him is making you lose your composure.

one day you’d been anticipating a call back from a job interview you’d gone to a few days prior

and shinsou just so happened to be observing your blissed-out expression as he ground into you from below, your body atop his

when your damned phone started ringing

being the sly little shit that he is, he saw an opportunity

“answer the phone pretty girl...don’t wanna keep them waiting, do you?”

reaching for your buzzing cell, you press the green ‘accept’ button, raising the device to your ear as you jolt forward

“hello, may i speak to y/n?” a chipper voice chimed through the receiver.

“t-this is sh-she. how can i—ah!—help you?” you garble your words, trying to suppress your moans

hitoshi merely takes this as a challenge, opting to drive into you deeper whilst trying to keep the noise down, it’s less fun when it’s obvious what you two are doing

his dick is thick as FUCK. 6 going on 7 inches but honestly you couldn’t give less of a fuck with the way he’s stretching you

surprisingly enough you managed your way through the phone call, telling the white lie of “helping the neighbors move”

but little did you know this was only the beginning of hitoshi’s new favorite pastime

he’s another exhibitionist too

so uh...good luck with that

remote control vibrators on dinner dates, fingers stuffed deep inside your sloppy cunt while he makes small talk with your mom at the dinner table,

even kneeling beneath your desk and sending you to heaven and back while you’re on a video call with your fucking boss.

he’s addicted to watching you fall apart, and is more than willing to apply that pressure.

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

dabi’s dick would fuck anyone stupid.

let’s make that clear.

it’s canon that he’s got a jacob’s ladder, blah blah blah, but let’s discuss how fucking pretty it is

creeping in at a firm eight inches, and about 4 and a half in girth with a drool-worthy mauve tip, his shaft slightly lighter than the rest of his tanned, unscarred skin

it’s dangerous, barbells running up the underside of his shaft or not

definitely into temperature play

and i’m not talking about that soft shit like warming up his fingers whilst they’re plunging in and out of your sweet center

no no no

that fucker will BRAND you and will not apologize

you’re his pretty little cumdump, and he’ll stake his claim upon your body how ever the hell he pleases

degradation is a given.

“—what a fuckin’ whore. tch, you really think you deserve this dick?”

“how about you get on your knees and beg for it then if you’re so damn needy.”

“quit your god damn whining, or i swear i’ll leave you spread out on this fuckin’ bar for shiggy to find. maybe i’ll even get a promotion for giving him such a slutty little bitch to use.”

“what’s wrong? does it hurt sweetheart? can’t take it after you talked all that shit earlier?” you shake your head no, thighs trembling as you struggle to maintain the position dabi’s folded you into. “...good.” he smirks, eyes gleaming with malice before pounding you to filth, cries spilling from your mouth as you beg for release, knowing he won’t give it to you.

making you cry? a specialty of dabi’s. your tears get him harder than anything; to watch your lips quiver as you sniffle, wiping away tears while he palms himself through his sweats

has shown you off to shigaraki, and will not hesitate to tongue your fluids off his digits while carrying on a full conversation with the other man.

after all, when you know your toy’s better than someone else’s, you tend to brag.

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪:

speaking of this mf

he’s the reason gamer boys get the rep of having massive dicks

cause god damn did you not expect this man to be slinging around eight bordering on nine inches of dick. four and a half to five inches of girth. poor you.

he’s also got a penchant for angry sex, so if that’s not enough of an indication that you’re going to have trouble walking afterwards i don’t know what is

but one thing he loves more than taking you apart piece by piece and cumming inside of you with zero remorse?

doing it when he’s in the middle of a game, and he’s online with the party’s voice chat.

“mmm—god, you really will do anything i tell you....swallowing every inch while these guys get to listen, and you’re not even embarrassed, you’re getting off on it!”

“i love little sluts like you, always doing whatever it takes just to have a cock pry them open at all times. that’s what you are, right? my little slut, made for me to do whatever i want to.”

yes, he’s made you whine so sweetly for him, cry as you beg him to touch you, while he plays fucking valorant.

and you can’t count how many times he’s mocked the way you gag and choke on his massive length while he played genshin impact with random guys online.

is a sucker for a good set of nudes, and isn’t afraid to ask for them on a regular basis

plus he just likes taking pictures/videos of you in general, saving them to a private album of his phone for him to use when you’re not there

he may parade you around as though you’re a lifeless fuckdoll, but if nothing else he’s possessive, and would rather relive the pain of losing to all might than let another man see you the way he does

but i’ll be honest, tomura’s not always a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a huge dick.

he’s also a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a thing for being dominated....and a huge dick.

see, it balances out!

it started with a bet that if he lost another round of mortal kombat you got to peg him

it took a lot of convincing, but he agreed to the terms, certain he’d win regardless

and after button smashing like your life depended on it with subzero, you managed to secure the win.

a grin stapled itself to your face after being treated to two hours of tomura’s incessant sobs and wails

“mhm—please...i can’t take it—ah! fuck, fuck, fuck! right there!”

“don’t make me work for it, i promise you’ll never be player two again, just please let me cum—m’ so close..”

game nights are always fun with him, you can count on it.

𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴:

my god my god

i’m gonna say it right now: keigo doesn’t eat pussy for you.

he does it for him.

and that makes all the difference in the fucking world when he’s pulling you to sit on his face

scruff scratching at your inner thighs deliciously as he makes you squirt alllll over aforementioned facial hair, rolling your hypersensitive clit between soft lips and a fluid tongue

he could stay between your thighs for hours and hours on end

will propose to devour you in the most inappropriate of places

and honestly? isn’t the least bit ashamed about it. elevators, in front of large office windows just a few stories above the street where you’re just barely visible to the people below,

on endeavor’s decorative towels after he spread them out on the floor so he could fuck you senseless on top of them, etc.

the flame hero had pissed him off earlier, and he needed to exert some petty rage. this was most sensible use of his energy.

also in case it wasn’t obvious: breeding kink. duh.

no thoughts head empty just hawks begging to breed you during his rut

“come on pretty girl, let me make you a momma....can’t wait to stuff you full of my chicks....”

he blushes so deeply when he’s close to cumming

and boy does he fucking whine

dick is just as pretty as he is, he’s a good 6 inches with a three inch girth; tip flushed and pink

definitely cherishes intimacy during sex

and will certainly go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable/desired

he could have all the money/fame in the world

and it still wouldn’t compare to the feeling of your thighs suffocating him while he slurps at your cunt like it’s his last meal.