#it just hit me that house uses this date scheme more than once

[thankstothe]

Cute date ideas: lying into B&E ✨🕊️🗝️

[barbiecrocs]

Irresistible

Gojo Satoru

tags! cheating(you), phone sex, dirty talk, no piv(only describing it), praise

WC. 2283

Barbie's note... Yall im not even gonna come up with an excuse for why i have posted in so long. just enjoy the story:>

Damn, he misses you. He misses you so much, so much that he's been scrolling on your page for an hour and a half. It's common sense that he shouldn't believe everything that he sees on the internet or take it at face value, but it's only been a week since the break up and you've been acting so carefree and unfazed. You've posted a month's worth of bikini pics in such a short time period. This must be a revenge scheme and it was lowkey highkey working. He was pissed. The dozens of skimpy bikini pics with your friends. The friends that always encouraged you to go against his wishes and wear slutty round whore clothes.

 A shot of you tucked into a baby pink and white striped bikini that covered nothing but your pierced nipples. One bounce and they'd pop out, no, one breath and the whole thing would rip in half. How dare you wear that out in public? How dare you show off what belongs to him? The whole swim set could double as a long thread of floss. 

 The caption reads, "Hot girl summer with Dontae."

 He feels a blood vessel in his head nearly pop as his eyes drag across that sentence. He doesn't know a Dontae, so who the fuck is Dontae? The next picture was a selfie. Your camera was aimed high above your head making the baby doll eyes that always got you what you wanted very prominent. A cute and innocent smile playing on your face as you threw up a peace sign. The white cami that sat on your chest was tight and thin, leaving nothing to his imagination. Your thighs pressed together, basically swallowing the little triangle that was cover in your swimsuit bottom.

He swipes again, arriving at the second to last pic. It's an over-the-shoulder video of who he assumed this "Dontae" guy was. He's seen fluffing your butt and using it as a pillow. "Donnie, you are so funny." You giggle. Once he notices that you're recording he covers his face and plants it in the crevice under your ass. "Rate the softness." You clench your cheeks above his head as he gives you a thumbs up. 

Gojos' jaw clenches with jealousy, anger, and anything else that screams he doesn't like seeing you with someone else. Someone else touching what's his.  

God, he really fucked up with all the jealousy and possessiveness. Because now it seemed like you were glowing once you left him. All these photos of you dolled up just the way he liked it. The date night posts with light makeup, hair and nails done, and a beautiful evening gown. A silk white maxi dress that hung low around your breast, but hugged all your curves perfectly. A dress that you wore for him once upon a time.

 A dress that he loved to peel off of you in the privacy of your house. His lips would be locked with yours as he backs you onto the bed with a tiny bounce. A dazed look plastered on your face as you shuffled farther up the bed. For every scoot backward, he'd step closer on his knees. "Does towering over me make you feel big and bad?" You'd say, your back hitting the headboard, signaling that you backed yourself into a corner. "No, it makes me hard." He'd say, before dragging you closer by your ankle, and stripping off your dress. Then he'd take care of all your needs before using your body for himself.

 The uncomfortable tightness in his pants pulled him out of his thoughts and reminiscing. It's not a surprise, but he's hard. What else would he be when he's thinking about fucking you every which way? A heavy sigh leaves his lips when he rubs the space between his eyes. It's not like he has to take care of it, he could leave it alone, but where's the fun in that. You know, he could turn this little situation into something he doesn't have to enjoy alone.

 He sits up slowly, letting the blood in his body even out, more of it pumping into his erect cock than anything else. He looks down at the tent in his pants, conflicting thoughts circling his head. A tiny angel Gojo on one shoulder telling him to move on and that this action is naughty. On the other shoulder was a tiny devil Gojo telling him that there was no harm in it. To be honest, he couldn't care less about what the tiny gojos said because who does his good side think he is. He's never been the one that would be opposed to being a little naughty. So, why shouldn't he give you a call and show you the problems you caused.

— —

 "Babe. Can you make some more popcorn? If you miss anything important I'll tell you." You say, handing your boyfriend a greased up bowl that once had kettle and butter popcorn in it. "Try mixing cheddar and caramel corn this time." You turn around on the couch to watch the rest of the movie, but before you can refocus, your phone starts ringing. You lazily slide it off the table, looking at the unsaved but familiar number. "Hey, I thought we said no phones today. You're always on it."

"I'm sorry baby. I gotta take this real quick."

"What? But who is going to tell me what's happening in the movie?" You rush upstairs to the bathroom regardless of his complaints and concerns. You shut the door before locking it and toss your phone on the marble sink. 

"Um, hello? Who is thi-"

"Y/n-"

 His taunting voice reaches your ears and you hang up immediately, chills running up and down your spine. Your plan worked. He called you, your ex Gojo. Either he fell right into your trap or he caught on. He calls back and you pick up, giggling in his face. "Oooooh, you think this is funny? You must know that I'm nursing a hard-on right now." You can imagine him laid out on his bed, legs spread, phone held to his mouth with one hand and the other palming or stroking his erection.

 "Hmmm, I don't know. That seems like a you problem." You take joy in knowing that if he was here with you right now, he'd bend you over his knee like a bad girl for sassing him. "More like a problem you caused with those damn near naked pics." He hisses.

 "So you've been stalking my page?" 

 "Oh don't play dumb, it doesn't look good on you. You know what you're doing and I know that you avoided blocking me for a reason. You want me to see you in these skimpy outfits with this rando. I'm not dumb. I'm more than just a pretty face, Y/n." He hisses out once more.

 You roll your eyes at his insults and focus on the one unnecessary part, "Who said you were pretty?"

 "You, when you were hanging onto my hair for dear life while screaming about how I was your pretty boy who fucked you beyond imaginable." Your legs squeeze together as you think back to the said time. "Does that ring any bells or should I go on?" Of course it does, but why let the banter end now? You're already deep into this. Why not go deeper? Before you speak, your hand lifts up your skirt and slides your panties off. "I think you should go on." You circle your clit, muffling an airy moan. "Really, now? How about the time where I was tongue deep in that pretty pussy while you rode my face, hm? Begging your pretty boy for extra seconds, when you were basically suffocating me by rolling your hips an endless amount of times. I'd double tap your thigh for air, but you roded for an extra three seconds because it was so good. Maybe even too good. My breaks were short too, only four or five breaths before you plopped back down for another 20-30 seconds. Does that ring any bells?" Your legs fall open wider as you relax and think about his head between your legs. Suddenly gaining the urge to shut them when you find the perfect rotation on your clit. 

"Hmmm, I don't remember that either." A moan escapes your mouth at the end of your sentence. You quickly cover your mouth hoping that your silence would reverse your actions. "Oh princess, there's no hiding that. Are you touching yourself? Naughty girl." Heat rises to your cheeks, "You have no right to tease me! I know you're doing it too!" You hide your face in your arms even though he can't see your flustered expression. "Lemme see." His voice is deep and low as your head shoots out of your arms. "What…What?"

"You heard me. I said, "Show me". I wanna see you stuff that pretty pussy."

 Your boyfriend was downstairs waiting for you to finish your movie night and here you are on the phone with your ex, touching yourself, wishing he was here with you. The angel and devil on your shoulder bicker about what's right and wrong and what you should do. Yeah, you have a boyfriend, but… you also have Gojo. There isn't much thought behind your decision, "Oh, such a pretty pussy. Is all that schlick for me? I'm honored." He snickers. You're silent for a couple of beats, really feeling the guilt before shaking it off. Your knees come together, shutting your legs to show him that you weren't gonna continue yet. "I wanna see you too." 

 There is absolutely no hesitation before you hear the slow sound of his zipper coming down and some rustling from the other side of the phone. "Fair enough." Is all you hear before his camera turns on and he tugs his underwear a little lower than his balls. "Like what you see, doll? You miss this big dick? How the tip would slide up and down your wet folds, teasing you until you begged for it." His voice is low and rough before he spits in his palm and uses it as lube to stroke his length. You spread your legs, finding the perfect rotation on your clit again as you prop your phone on the tissue stand across from the toilet you were sitting on. "God I miss that perfect pussy so much." His head falls back toward the headrest of the couch, starting his slow and vertical strokes on his cock. Something inside of you snaps as you watch him stroke himself just to the mere thought of you. Only then do you fully reciprocate his desire, "She misses you too. I miss you. I want you." Your voice has a sultry tone to it with an ounce of desperation as your hands greedily speed up in motion on your aching bundle of nerves.

 "Shit, you should have let me know sooner. I can make all of your wants reality, just say the word." From the way that he goes silent, hanging onto the emptiness in the air, he must be expecting you to say something. Something similar to granting him permission to come over and fuck you like he'll never see you again. "Gojo, we can't." His strokes slow as disappointment takes over. "I'm at my boyfriend's house." There's a sliver and sadness and hesitation in your voice, just saying that sentence makes you feel dirty. Knowing that you have a boyfriend yet you're here entertaining your ex. You could try to come up with an excuse to make yourself feel better and push all accountability off your shoulders, but there isn't one. Your boyfriend isn't mean, controlling, or possessive so why would you do him so dirty? That was a question you didn't want the answer to for numerous reasons.

 "Oh naughty girl. Cheating on your boyfriend with your ex? Kinda makes me wonder if you cheated on me before." 

 There is no hesitation whatsoever, "Of course not." It's very clear where your priorities stand. Oh who are you kidding, you only went out and got a new boyfriend to make Gojo jealous. You guys were on a break technically, but he decided that he would talk to other girls so you did the same. Maybe you got a little sidetracked with this mini-quest and actually planned on giving it up for him. Today was supposed to be that day, "We were supposed to fuck today, but then you called." He tsks, "Glad I did. Don't you ever give up what's mine, you hear me?" You nod, too busy entertaining yourself to talk. Everything was moving so fast the conversation, your rising orgasm and the minutes ticking by until your boyfriend decided to drag you back downstairs, but would come to the realization that you were cheating on him. "To hell with him, why don't you come over here? I'm just aching to fuck you." He speaks before he thinks and there are a couple beats of silence before you respond. A pathetic please hanging on the tip of his tongue. "Okay." He half expects you to have an argument behind that one word or anything else, but by the looks of it you were aching just as bad as he was. You dreadfully moved your hands from your aching clit, your orgasm was right around the corner, but so was Gojo so you could stick it out for him. He's amazed at how fast you cleaned up, made an excuse, and kissed your boyfriend goodbye. Before he could make a comment on it, you were whipping around in your car and telling him that you'd be there in five then ended the call.

[sammydean0]

Yandere twilight x reader

Honestly I haven't been seeing many of these and I wanted more of yandere twilight characters and their obsession with the reader.

I’m a very new writer so please understand and I would appreciate some criticism on my writing. Thank you for reading!

Warning: yandere behavior, obsession, stalking, violence.

Edward Cullen

Edward would be exactly how he was with Bella but with you instead. Unlike with Bella he could read your mind and the lack of care you had for the Cullen family and that would fuel his interest he has for you at first.

He would find where you live and watch you sleep at night and he would deliberately change his classes to all of yours to sit with you. He would start the conversation off normally but now he’s walking you to your classes and to your car. His family notices and Alice has a vision of your life together and fully supports Edward’s unusual behavior.

Edward would never let you meet the wolf pack and keep you from talking to any of them even if you were friends with them. This would be before you guys start dating but once you start dating you aren’t allowed to talk to anyone.

Edward would give you many small things that you like and even would leave it in your room for you to wake up to.

He would never let you know that he can read your mind he would tell you he had good intuition

One night Edward snaps and you wake up in his bedroom in the Cullen home…

(sorry I can't say much for Edward because he's hard to write for me)

Alice Cullen

I think Alice and Jasper would be in on it together instead of separate because they both love each other so much (same with the other couples)

Alice would have a vision of you one day before you show up as the new student. She would imminently fall in love with you and tell Jasper all about you.

Alice already set everything up, putting herself in the same classes, same lunch, and even the same way home all just to talk to you and get to know more about you.

Her bubbly persona would cover up her scheme of getting you to join her and Jasper back at their home with the family.

You and Alice would become good friends and she would even become good friends with your parents (like she did with Bella's dad)

When you finally go to her house she doesn't let you leave and Jasper uses his emotion's power on you to calm you down even though you know that's not how you're truly feeling.

I think Alice and Jasper would be in on it together instead of separate because they both love each other so much (same with the other couples)

Alice already set everything up, putting herself in the same classes, same lunch, and even the same way home all just to talk to you and get to know more about you.

Her bubbly persona would cover up her scheme of getting you to join her and Jasper back at their home with the family.

You and Alice would become good friends and she would even become good friends with your parents (like she did with Bella's dad)

When you finally go to her house she doesn't let you leave and Jasper uses his emotion's power on you to calm you down even though you know that's not how you're truly feeling.

I think Alice and Jasper would be in on it together instead of separate because they both love each other so much (same with the other couples)

Jasper Cullen

Jasper would get to know you before you even meet because of Alice and how much she would talk about you from her vision.

You'll show up to school after moving to Forks and end up in a class with him. He would immediately know who you were because of how much Alice told him about how you looked and how beautiful you are.

He wouldn't come up to you but make Alice come up to you because how much he makes you uncomfortable by his staring and he knew that. Alice would make quick friends with you and force you to meet Jasper.

You and Jasper would hit it off more than you and him thought you would.

Both Jasper and Alice would make you hang out together and sit together at lunch. When the days they are gone, you finally got the freedom to hang out with your other friends but once they are back Alice is wrapped around your arm and Jasper is standing next to you like a protector.

Alice wouldn't watch you sleep at night but Jasper I feel would 100% watch you sleep at night like Edward. Alice would give Jasper things to drop off in your room and you would wake up to new things every morning.

Alice would also get your favorite drink every morning and Jasper would hand you whatever your favorite food is.

Once you finally go over to their house you're not coming back out. Alice would hold you while Jasper would use his powers to comfort you even though you knew something was very wrong.

Rosalie Cullen

Rosalie wouldn't have noticed you until she saw you in a class one day and saw how beautiful you were.

She would be angry with you at first because she was jealous, her thoughts would be consumed by you. This would take a couple of days or a week she would finally realize it wasn't jealousy but love.

She would tell Emmett all about you and how pretty you are and he would grin the entire time she spoke about you because this is a first for her and him.

She would make friends with you and hopefully you would get over her rude comments about you at first because you know she wouldn't hold her tongue with you the first time you met.

She obviously apologizes for her behavior through luxurious gifts and food because she doesn't know how else to apologize.

Emmett Cullen

Emmett would fall in love seeing you practicing a sport you love or if you don't do sports he would see you drawing or reading a book in the corner of the lunch room.

Emmett is a simple minded man and he would tell Rosalie about you right away. Of course she isn't happy at first but once she sees you she understands the obsession he has for you.

Emmett is a social butterfly so he would 100% come up to you and start talking to you out of nowhere and would compliment you multiple times in one sentence.

Emmett wouldn't stalk you or watch you sleep but he would bring you food or some sort of jewelry for you

(I can't say much for Emmett I'm sorry)

Carlisle Cullen

Carlisle would be your doctor at the hospital after you had some sort of accident to end up there.

His unbeating heart would skip for a second seeing you hurt, he would set everything aside at his job just to help fix you up

Carlisle would tell Esme all about you when he gets home, telling her that they both might have a third in the relationship

If you're prone to getting hurt then Carlisle would just kidnap you right away to save you from yourself

But if you're not prone to getting hurt he would have Esme watch over you while he's at work and for whatever reason she ends up kidnapping you

Esme has totally already set up a room for you and puts you in there to stay with them for the rest of your lives.

(I won't be doing Esme because I don't really know what to write for her, sorry!)

[officialleehadan]

Taken Home

Confidence Scheme

+++

Will took Venganza back to his house.

“It’s an opportunity,” Will had told Alexis over the phone while he had their medical tam look over Venganza. The blood turned out to be from a shallow, but long cut down his arm. It didn’t need stitches, so Medical cleaned it, bandaged it, and sent him on his way. “He doesn’t have a Vanessa at home to talk him into working with us, but I can fix that right now if we’re fast. This is our chance to show him we’re the right people to side with. He needs to know that we aren’t going to just arrest him because we can.”

“You had better be right about this,” Alexis told him dubiously, but he already knew that she was going to let him do what he wanted this time. Venganza was too valuable a resource, and he was spooked right now. Someone was after him, with guns, and he had only barely escaped. “If he bolts on us, we’re never gonna see him again.”

“I know,” Will assured her, although there was a real chance that Venganza would do exactly that. It was his job to keep it from happening. “I do know, but I also know that if I give him safe harbor right now, he’s going to be a lot more willing to work with us later.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t tell me you’re doubting Vanessa’s ability to bring a thief in from the cold.”

Alexis had laughed, but she hadn’t argued, either. Smart woman. Vanessa could rule the world if she felt like it. Venganza wouldn’t know what hit him. Will texted Vanessa, who was almost certainly stress-baking, as she always did when he got an emergency call, and headed home with a thief in his front seat, still bundled up in his coat.

“So, what’s it to be?” Venganza asked once they were on the road, in the privacy of the car. He was looking less frantic, but still cornered, and he had put on a southern drawl to hide behind. Will didn’t love that, but there wasn’t much to be done about it right now. Not until he could get Venganza home and be certain of their safety. “The Department of Justice, to pay for my crimes? Witness protection? A quiet vanishing in an alley somewhere?”

Oh boy. He really wasn’t in a good headspace if that was what he was expecting.

“Well,’ Will said, careful to keep any pretense of practiced soothing out of his voice. It wouldn’t work on someone who knew accents and voices as well as Venganza, and would probably spook him more. “My wife tends to stress-bake, and she likes chocolate, so I’m betting there’s brownies at home, but she might be making bread. I can take you to the DoJ if you want, but my guest room is more comfortable.”

“You’re joking,” Venganza said, apparently stunned back into that northwest accent all at once. He stared at Will with a conman’s eye for details and a magician’s eye for cold reading, and his mouth dropped open. “You’re not joking. You’re actually taking me back to your house.”

“It’s not the dinner date I imagined, with lasagna and all,” Will said and gave him a grin that made Venganza huff something like a pained laugh. “But I figure box brownies are better than handcuffs.”

“I like handcuffs.”

“I’m not putting you in handcuffs until your arm heals up, no matter how pretty you ask.”

The joking, and the flirting, did the job that assurances hadn’t, and Venganza finally relaxed back into the car seat. He was probably too amped up on adrenaline to feel it, but he was going to hurt tomorrow, thanks to the muscle strain of hanging off a building. His arm shouldn’t get wet, but Will was tempted to try and talk him into taking a bath.

Maybe he would leave that to Vanessa. She was better at that sort of thing than he was.

The drive back to his house wasn’t a long one, even given that he was following traffic laws this time, and deliberately taking corners gently to try and keep from jostling Venganza’s bad arm.

“How do you want me to introduce you to Vanessa?” Will asked when they turned the corner on to his street. “She’ll respect whatever name you give her. Doesn’t have to be your own.”

“Leonardo is fine,” Venganza said. Will winced internally and corrected himself in his head. He should really get used to calling the thief by his chosen name. He had been quiet for most of the ride. Coming down from his brush with death, probably. “Good as anything. You called me Leo on the phone.”

“Heat of the moment,” Will joked and pulled into his driveway. The house was far too expensive for a DoJ agent, but Alexis knew perfectly well that he had assets he wasn’t going to give up when he changed sides. The house had been a wedding gift for Vanessa, and she knew exactly how he paid for it. That was enough for him. It did come with an underground garage, rare in the city, and a comfortable four-bedroom house, with a substantial yard for Vanessa to garden in. The security system was the best money could buy. “Come on. I don’t want you outside for long. I don’t think we were followed, but I’m not discounting the possibility.”

“Think I’ve been shot at enough for the day,” Leonardo agreed wryly and managed to get out of the car with a minimum of fuss. Will waited for him, and then headed up the stairs towards the kitchen and inside. “Cowboy, you sure you want me in your home?”

“If he hadn’t brought you home, I would have yelled at him.”

As Will suspected, Vanessa was in the kitchen, which rather looked like a bomb had gone off. There were two empty boxes of brownie mix on the counter, and Vanessa was working some kind of dough. Herb bread, Will suspected. She liked to make bread when she needed something to hit. At the sight of them, she wiped her hands on her apron and came over immediately.

Leonardo looked like he had been hit over the head with a bat. Will could sympathize. He felt the same way whenever he saw Vanessa. Right now, she looked like a goddess, with her linen apron and her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun.

“Brownies are just about done,” she told Leonardo and paused to steal a kiss from Will on the way. “Will, take him upstairs. He’s not as broad in the shoulders as you, but you’re about the same height. I’m sure you have something that will fit. Oh, what do you want me to call you?”

“Leo’s fine,” Leonardo said, still mostly dumbstruck. Vanessa smiled at him. Will’s knees went a little weak, but they always did that when his wife smiled. Leonardo visibly had no idea how to handle a woman who was so utterly confident in herself. “Nice to meet you, Missus Payne.”

“Vanessa,” she corrected him with a smile that showed her dimples and nodded to Will pointedly. Marching orders issued, he began herding Leonardo towards the stairs up to the bedrooms. “Go get cleaned up. There will be brownies with ice cream when you’re done.”

+++

Confidence Scheme:

Deliberately Careless (Subscriber Only!)

Pure Guess

Phone Trace (Subscriber Only!)

De Vinci Terrace (Subscriber Only!)

Criminal Portraiture (Subscriber Only!)

Evidence Report

Bring a Crowbar

Proposal Lasagna

Hang from a Ledge

Taken Home

Oath Named (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[thetomorrowshow]

tenacious trajectory

me: gonna take a break from trust au to focus on my play!

me a week later: so i started an empires superhero au-

anyways i saw a tiktok about the trope where the villain turns up on the hero’s doorstep injured saying “i had nowhere else to go” and collapses and. uh. let’s just get into it shall we

cw: being experimented on, needles, blood, use and description of medical instruments, restraints, kidnapping, violence

~

Jimmy isn’t exactly a hero.

He’s never been properly been a hero, never been like Major, or Gem, or any of the more localized heroes in Empire City. He’s not a villain, though—he’s nothing like Xornoth, Major’s nemesis. Jimmy’s more of . . . he’s more of an antihero, something in between.

And for some reason, that makes heroes and villains alike despise him. He’s not even the only antihero—FailWhip is right there, and people love him. But somehow, Jimmy’s picked up the reputation of a bad omen, and where before he had been neutrally acknowledged in the city, now he’s outright hated.

He’s gone through a few different rebrands over the years. For a while he was Solidarity, the comic book superhero, but being a superhero is difficult for someone who accidentally causes chaos. As soon as it was clear he wasn’t welcome among the hero ranks, he tried out being a villain as the Codfather, but after a little while the villains told him (rather politely, for villains) that he wasn’t quite fit for being a villain, that he was too softhearted and should maybe try being a hero. So he went back to Solidarity, but there’s something wrong with his old superhero costume in the way that it just didn’t fit who he’s trying to be now (He’s still wearing it, though, because he doesn’t really have the funds for a rebrand). He can’t be a hero, he can’t be a villain, so he has to take up the grey space in between. 

Jimmy’s just not very good at it.

His power isn’t an envied one. Jimmy has the unfortunate ability to influence fate, but without any influence. Like, fate changes around him without his input. Usually for the worse. Sometimes he’s lucky—sometimes a building falls on Mythics so that Pearl has a chance to superstrength-punch him into the ground and knock him out. Most times, though, a tornado hits out of nowhere and disrupts a battle, a house catches on fire and Gem has to flee the fight to save the family within, or on one terrible occasion, a meteor rockets down from outer space and lands smack on top of Aeor.

And that’s probably why the heroes now despise him. One doesn’t just kill the oldest hero in the city, the one who has a parade in his honor, the one who somehow won a Tony last year, and get away with still being on good terms with heroes. Jimmy had tried to tell them it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t control it, it just happened, but it didn’t matter. Major especially hates him, threatens to arrest him every time Jimmy dares show his face around any intense fight.

He would love to just be a normal citizen. He’s always wanted to go to college, go on a date, just eat in a restaurant for once. None of those are options. He’s barely able to live in the apartment complex he lives in—it’s on the shadier side of town, and his landlord doesn’t ask where he gets the money from and why the building is considerably less structurally sound than it was before Jimmy moved in. It’s not like he can move into one of those superhero insured houses like Major and Gem and the new flower-type hero.

And he can’t get a proper job, either—it would blow his cover instantly. Which is why he’s still working on the antihero thing—he feels gross doing it, but robbing banks isn’t too hard and the few times a hero has tried to stop him the bank has just collapsed, so they don’t even try anymore. He doesn’t do much to try and help them anymore either—for the most part the villains leave him alone (unless he interferes with their scheme, in which case they make it clear to him that he needs to stay out of it), and the vitriol (and sometimes ice spikes or flying cars) that the heroes send his way aren’t always worth getting involved.

The other antiheroes don’t like him, either. FailWhip ignores him at every turn (when he asked why, the man had said something about Gem and leapt to the side as a car came barreling down the sidewalk), and the others don’t want to push their luck. Jimmy’s a dangerous partner in every situation.

Jimmy’s also a dangerous enemy, though, so he’s generally just. Left alone. He can’t stay in one place for too long, so he spends his days stealing around the city then returns to his trashy apartment, where he knocks on the door three times to make sure it won’t fall on him, then turns the doorknob (the key broke off in the lock forever ago) and lets himself in. He kicks off his shoes, leaves the lights off (which he’s done since the bulb exploded three years ago and he spent all night picking glass out of his arm), and fixes himself a bowl of cereal. Usually the milk doesn’t go bad, but on the off chance it does, he sniffs every bite before putting it in his mouth. He reads while he eats most nights, sometimes he scrolls through the news on his phone to make sure there isn’t anything dreadful going on that he feels the need to intervene in. Then he washes his dishes, makes sure everything is in order, and goes to bed on his mattress on the floor. He keeps his phone near his ear in case he receives an emergency alert late at night.

In the morning, he usually showers and throws on some jeans and a t-shirt and shoves his phone in his back pocket. He skips breakfast and does whatever chores need to be accomplished as quickly as possible, before heading home for lunch and eating whatever food he’s bought that day. He spends the rest of the day patrolling in his old superhero costume, mostly staying out of the way of anyone (and they generally stay out of the way of him). Then he heads home and the cycle begins anew.

He’s usually not interrupted. The evening it happens, he’s put out.

Then he sees who’s interrupting him. Then he’s scared.

He’s almost gotten to his apartment when glass shatters nearby. Jimmy glances around, already rolling his eyes. His apartment windows shattered about a week into living there and have been blocked with cheap blankets ever since. He keeps moving, sticking to the shadiest parts of the street. Hopefully nobody will notice that he’s been here and he can just move on without any trouble.

But then he hears footsteps. Jimmy turns around, about to apologize for whatever it is he’s broken, but before he can he’s being wrestled to the ground.

He’s still not panicking, not as the person pins him to the ground, not as his costume tears a bit on the sleeve. He’s still more put-out than anything; he’ll have to stitch that up in the morning, just another messy addition to his outfit.

He does start panicking, though, when a gruff voice hisses, “Here’s the chloroform, get him quick. We can’t have a building fall on us.”

That’s when Jimmy realizes he has to get out of there. He writhes, heart leaping into his throat, he has to get away—

A cloth presses against his face and he automatically breathes, breathes in something sweet and chemical-y and feels his brain go all fuzzy. He barely registers his body going limp before he’s out like a light.

-

When Jimmy wakes, he wakes slowly, groggily. His head is pounding, his mouth fuzzy. He doesn’t know where he is, what he’s doing, what’s happening. Within a couple of moments, though, he realizes that he isn’t anywhere familiar, and he’s tied to a chair.

Great.

He swallows a few times, trying to get rid of the numbness. He’s almost a little excited—he hasn’t been involved in a kidnapping in years, not since he tried to rescue the mayor’s daughter that one time. He wonders what the villain’s evil scheme is, who the hero they’re trying to bait is.

He blinks, clearing his vision. He’s in a classic basement set-up, a goon by the door. There’s no video recorder, but there are other ways to ask for a ransom. His stomach growls. How long has he been here? 

The door slams open, and in stalks—

Uh-oh. Oh no.

Xornoth, the most dangerous villain in the country, let alone the city, enters the room. Jimmy feels the blood drain from his face, and where before he had been lightly testing the ropes securing him to the chair, he’s now tugging at them a tad bit desperately. Whatever Xornoth has in store cannot be good.

Xornoth stands before him, stares for a long time. Jimmy looks everywhere but their eyes, examines their weird antler things that may or may not be part of their costume, stares into their wide grin of teeth just slightly too sharp.

That grin opens, and an echoing laugh comes out. Jimmy flinches, eyes falling to the floor then back up in time to see Xornoth raise a hand.

The doors on the side of the basement open again, this time ushering in a handful of scientist-types in white lab coats. Jimmy gulps when they approach him, eyeing the syringe in the hand of one of them. He jerks away as that man nears him, but not soon enough. The needle jabs into his neck, and with a feeling washing through his body similar to the chloroform, Jimmy is gone.

-

He’s not gone for long, though, because he wakes up as soon as he feels a burning on his chest. His eyes snap open but immediately close, a bright light above him. There’s a low mumbling of voices, the smell of rubbing alcohol in the air, and something tickling his nostrils.

Then his chest burns again, and he forces his eyes open and down to see—

There’s someone, someone unfamiliar, a surgical mask on their face leaning over him. In their hand is a tiny pair of scissors, which is inside of Jimmy’s chest. In a shallow dish set on Jimmy’s stomach, there are small bloody squares that seem to be his skin. Another scientist is using tweezers to pick up the squares and put them in biohazard containers.

Blood is steadily pooling from where the scientist has scissors in his chest, until suddenly a bit of it spurts up and the scientist curses, pressing a pad of gauze over the incision.

And Jimmy screams.

He jerks his arms only to find them restrained, he moves his legs only to find them restrained, he tries to sit up only to find his waist restrained. His superhero mask is stretching over some lump on his face, and that lump is pushing air into his nose, which must be an oxygen tube of some sort.

Both scientists over him step back, glancing around fearfully. A third from the background (which Jimmy just now registers, processes the others watching and washing hands and taking notes) steps forward, prepping another syringe.

No. No no no, he is not doing that again, he is not going to lose time again and turn up in some dark alley missing a kidney.

“No!” he gasps, trying to roll away. The container on his stomach shifts, threatens to tip over. “No, please, I’ll be quiet, I’ll stay still. Please don’t knock me out again.”

The woman freezes, and even behind her mask and glasses, Jimmy can see that she’s fixing him with a sympathetic look. “Mr. Solidarity, I don’t believe we can do that,” she says. “You’re a rather dangerous patient when not sedated.”

“Please?” he begs, going as still as possible. “Or at least—at least tell me what you’re going to do?”

The woman sighs, but shakes her head, approaching once again. Jimmy can’t help but whine, a keen escaping from between his teeth, as he feels a cold square of soaked gauze rub against his inner arm.

“We may need to put in an IV,” the woman says, all clinical now that she isn’t talking to him. “I’m not sure how he’s resisting this stuff, but it would be easier to just flush it through his system every time he starts to wake up.”

“Jordan, want to set that up once he’s out?”

“No problem, I’ll just go grab the—”

Everyone looks in the same direction. Jimmy cranes his neck, sees a door. Sees Xornoth.

Xornoth comes closer, closer and closer until they’re bending down beside Jimmy’s face, their noses almost touching. Jimmy barely dares breathe (only breathes because the oxygen tube is forcing him to), eyes wide as he stares into Xornoth’s black eyes.

“Nothing unusual?” the villain asks, their deep voice echoing around the room and Jimmy’s head. Various scientists mumble answers, which seems to satisfy Xornoth as they continue to gaze at Jimmy.

“Good. Keep him awake, then. I want him to feel it.”

Jimmy can’t help but shudder. A man with glasses raises a pencil questioningly.

“Sir, if he starts—”

“I’ll handle it,” Xornoth says, straightening. One of their gloved hands falls to Jimmy’s cheek, where it rests, heavy and terrifying. A scientist sighs (can Jimmy really call them scientists, or are they doctors?), then the woman who had just been prepping his arm places down the syringe and instead removes the oxygen tube from his nostrils. Xornoth’s fingers straighten out his mask, patting his cheek once it’s properly in place.

Then they’re back at it, and Jimmy’s biting back whimpers and cries as they cut into him with precision.

-

He’s been locked up in whatever facility Xornoth has for what feels like forever. Most of the time he’s not really conscious. Most of the time he’s lying on the concrete floor of his cell, the hard bed that he has out of reach for his non-existent energy. He drifts in and out of reality during those times, body burning where they last peeled back skin, head aching and eyelids drooping. There’s no ransom, he’s realized by now—he wonders why he ever thought there would be. There’s no one to pay it.

He doesn’t even protest these days when they lift him onto a gurney and wheel him out of his cell, back into the sterile white room where everything goes bad and blurry. He’s not sure what they’re doing to him—sometimes he looks down at himself and sees tubes sticking out of every part of his body, some days they shock him and take notes on his reactions, sometimes they just take blood and skin and tissue and then wheel him back to his cell, where he’s dumped unceremoniously on the floor. The days blend together, the worst ones marked by Xornoth’s presence.

When Xornoth is there, fear bleeds through the room. They never say anything, though: just stand silently, a hand carding through Jimmy’s greasy hair. Jimmy keeps his eyes squinted shut whenever Xornoth is there, despite every instinct screaming at him to watch them.

Whatever they do to him, on whatever day, it’s always painful. The pain more than anything drains him, leaving him limp and aching. They give him food, stuff that seems like military rations, but most of the time he’s too tired and his hands are shaking too badly to unwrap them. He thinks they’ve been giving him supplements through an IV every once in a while, because otherwise he shouldn’t logically still be alive, but his head is hazy enough that he can’t think logically. None of this makes sense.

One day, as Xornoth massages his head and a scientist is peeling away a strip of skin from his calf, Jimmy whimpers, “Why are you doing this to me?”

It’s the first thing he’s said since . . . in a while, and he’s not sure why he’s saying it, just that the pain is so so much and Xornoth is touching him and he just can’t. He blinks back a tear, gasps when the skin from his calf pulls all the way off. The gauze that the man presses down on it stings.

“Oh, little bird,” Xornoth murmurs, and Jimmy flinches at the almost—affection in their voice. “You’re going to be very useful to me.”

That’s all they say, and Jimmy feels a drop of something cold sink into his stomach. He tried the villain life, it didn’t work out. He’s not sure what they’re doing, what they’re trying to achieve, but whatever it is won’t be good.

When he’s later thrown into his cell, he can’t fall asleep like he usually does. Every word that Xornoth said is repeating in his head, over and over until all he can hear is Xornoth’s voice.

The rations are on the floor next to him, and he can’t sleep anyhow, so Jimmy tears open the package with shaking hands and takes a bite of whatever the contents are. It’s tasteless, and dry, and takes far more chewing than he has the energy for.

He picks up the water bottle that always comes with the food, but he can’t manage to twist his wrist hard enough to break the seal.

He needs to get out.

He’s not sure why it’s this that gives him the realization—maybe being forced to accept the fact that he hasn’t got the strength to open a water bottle just breaks him. He has to get out of here before things get any worse. Not just for himself—Xornoth is the most powerful villain Jimmy’s ever heard of. If he achieves whatever it is he’s trying to do, it could spell the end for the city.

-

Jimmy’s lying on the operation table, slipping in and out of consciousness. He thinks it’s strange that bad luck hasn’t fallen upon him yet. Maybe he’s too tired for his powers to activate.

There’s a tube in his right side, under his arm, and he’s not quite sure what it’s doing. Every five minutes or so, a scientist adjusts it slightly and presses a button, watches as a bit of blood shoots up the tube, then presses the button again for it to stop. There’s an IV in his bruised left arm, which is pumping something beige into his body. 

It’s a quiet day in the lab, broken only by Jimmy’s occasional dry sobs as the tube is readjusted and the once-every-five-minutes beeping of the IV stand.

He just wants to go home. He just wants to go back to his trashy apartment where the lights are never on (this room is far too bright, always too bright) and he can eat cereal and peanut butter sandwiches and instant mashed potatoes. He just wants some time alone without any pain and his lumpy mattress and his stained couch and his blankets that smell like cigarettes and no one touching him.

There’s a loud crash from elsewhere in the building. The scientist doesn’t seem to register it, frowning as he squints at his laptop. He shifts the tube, pointing it more downward, and presses the button. Jimmy bites the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

Another crash. This one jostles the tube set-up, the IV stand rattling. At this, the scientist looks up. After several moments of nothing, he returns to his work.

When the third crash hits, the man sets aside his laptop and strides out of the door to the lab. Jimmy’s grateful; he gets a moment’s reprieve, it seems.

He lies there, eyes unfocused. The IV beeps. Something rumbles distantly.

This is the perfect time to escape.

He’s not sure how or when he realizes that, but it gives him enough of a burst of energy to sit up (they don’t restrain him anymore unless necessary) and peel the tape off his arm. Carefully, his vision blurring, he eases the tube out of his arm and stares dumbly at it as a rivulet of blood weaves down his arm.

This is the perfect time to escape.

The tube in his side proves a little more difficult to remove, blood spilling everywhere as he grits his teeth and yanks it from his body. He isn't sure what to do with the blood, so he ignores it in favor of pulling the scientist's stereotypical white lab coat around himself, too foggy to discern the sleeves and wearing it more similar to a cloak.

Standing is the most difficult task yet, but he ignores the shooting pains in his body and the wobbly quality of his legs and manages to remain upright. He can do this.

This is the perfect time to escape.

He leaves without another thought, shouldering out the door and stumbling across that first room that he'd found himself in so long ago. There's a door on the other side that he knows leads to the room he's been kept in; but there's a door to his right that he's never been through yet many people have come from. He chooses this door, blinking back the heaviness of his eyelids.

Beyond this door is a hallway, and he begins to make his way down to the door at the end when he hears a crash just behind him. He freezes, pressed against the door.

"Give me good news, Doctor, or you may not return home tonight."

"We're making progress, sir, but it's slow. What we have to do to suppress his powers limits any—"

"I don't want excuses, I want him to be mine."

One voice is Xornoth, one is vaguely familiar, but Jimmy can't stand here listening for any longer. He has to get out.

At the end of the hallway is a door, a solid door with no windows and a red sign that he can't focus on, but he knows somehow that this is a way out.

He's not sure how he makes it down the hallway, not with his small amount of energy flagging with every passing moment. He keeps trying to send adrenaline through his body, imagining what might happen if they find him escaping, but he's feeling worse than he ever has. The lab coat is stained red from his still-bleeding side, draining his resolve with it.

Still, he makes it to the door, shoves against the bar and pushing the door open, into darkness and a gust of wind and—

An alarm blares, loud and shocking and Jimmy jumps practically a foot in the air, and there's the adrenaline he was missing—

There's an empty lot illuminated by one streetlight, and it feels so insanely good to be outside again but Jimmy doesn't have time to focus on that, he has to run. Closing the door behind him doesn't make the alarm stop, so he limps his way across the lot as quickly as he can before—

The door slams open, and Jimmy looks over his shoulder to see Xornoth, the air crackling around them as red tentacles sprout through the asphalt, whipping around as they grow.

"Come back, darling," Xornoth calls, anger tinging their otherwise calm words. "You'll be happy soon, I guarantee."

Jimmy flinches at the way his voice echoes and hurries on, tripping over the curb as he steps out of the lot and onto the road.

Xornoth growls behind him, and before Jimmy can even think to move, a tentacle tears from the ground and wraps around his torso. It lifts him off the ground and Jimmy flails, dry heaving as the ground quickly falls below him. He pulls at the tentacle with scrabbling fingers, desperately trying to find some way to get free. The limb tightens around him, cutting into his wounds—he hears something crack—he screams, vision flashing red then black then back to blurred—

The tentacle releases him and he falls to the road, skidding a little bit, searing pain hitting his entire body full-force. He tries to breathe through the agony, but the breath is stolen from him as the tentacle tightens around his ankle and lifts him back up until his hair is brushing the ground. He can’t help it—a sob breaks from his mouth. He’d been so close, he was about to escape. . . . 

A driverless car speeds from nowhere and rams into Xornoth, driving him into the wall of the building. The tentacle drops Jimmy, who falls on his face and crumples to the ground as it withers and shrinks into the hole it created in the asphalt. The night goes still.

Jimmy struggles to his feet, head whirling with agony. His nose is stuffed up, something wet pouring from it, but he doesn’t bother with it. He has to get out, because surely Xornoth isn’t dead, surely he’ll be up in just a few seconds—

Jimmy’s not sure how he’s moving, but he is. More shockingly is that he knows where he is. He’s in a part of town he never goes to, afraid of being arrested or attacked or worse.

He’s in the high-end, public-funded superhero houses neighborhood. It’s across the city from his dingy apartment, he’ll never make it home . . . Xornoth will be coming for him at any moment. . . .

There’s one superhero Xornoth is afraid of, his mind blearily supplies.

He can’t go to Major. Major . . . Major despises him, has ever since the accident with Aeor. Aeor had been Major’s mentor, had taught him to hone and control his ice powers and helped him grow into his wings. Aeor had been everything to Major, and Jimmy had taken that away.

But there’s nowhere else for him to go, nowhere else where he’ll be safe, and what if Xornoth’s implanted some sort of tracker into him. . . .

Major is the primary protector of the city. His house is the grandest, in the center of the neighborhood, so it’s going to be a bit more walking, but Jimmy thinks he can manage it before he passes out.

He makes it, just barely. It’s a long walk, longer than he thinks it should’ve been, but he doesn’t have the focus to worry about it. He doesn’t have the focus to worry about anything but the pain.

It’s a beautiful house, one that Jimmy has been warned to stay away from countless times, but he stumbles through the garden of peonies and keeps his eyes down, as if under the impression that if he doesn’t look at the house, it won’t count as trespassing.

He leans heavily against Major’s intricately carved doorway, reaching up one hand to knock only to lose strength halfway through and just sort of pat his door. His arm falls to his side and he slumps, despair flooding him as he realizes it’s been too long, Xornoth will find him, there’s nothing to be done—

The door opens and Jimmy collapses, knees hitting the porch, head leaning against something soft. He looks up to see that he’s pressed against someone’s legs, then further up to see Major’s distinctive glittering white mask and angry blue eyes.

“Solidarity,” he says, tone bitter. “What are—” his voice changes as he properly takes in Jimmy— “Is that blood?”

Jimmy swallows, speaks, voice creaky from disuse. “I—I didn’t know where else to go. . . .”

He blinks, and suddenly he’s in a well-lit kitchen, white tiles bright against the dark wood of the cabinets. Major’s there, wetting cloths in the sink, and there’s a table beside him with a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Jimmy blinks at it, then down at himself. He’s shirtless, only wearing the shorts that they’d given him once they’d torn his trousers to shreds. His various cuts and bruises and missing patches of skin are on display, some scabbed over, others weeping blood. His arm and side are still bleeding as well, though considerably faster than anywhere else. More confusing than anything, there’s blood utterly coating his chest.

When he looks back up, Major is staring at him. “You’ve broken your nose,” the hero says after a moment. “That’s where all that blood is from.”

Jimmy doesn’t say anything. Any words might split his aching head in half.

Major dips his damp cloth into the rubbing alcohol, then pauses, hand hovering over Jimmy’s body. He seems to assess the damage, then kneels down and reaches for Jimmy’s side, gently patting the spot where he’d yanked out the tube.

“These injuries,” Major says once he’s bandaged that point with some gauze and medical tape, moving to Jimmy’s left arm to clean the exit point of the IV. “They’re strange. Clean, almost. Precise. And your arms. . . .” He holds up Jimmy’s arm, tracing along the bruises with a soft finger. “Burst vessels. IV points. These aren’t from a fight, Solidarity.”

Jimmy swallows. Major doesn’t miss it, steps away for a moment and comes back with a glass of water. He presses it to Jimmy’s lips, waits until he’s drunk a few sips to put it down. He moves to his nose, mutters a warning—Jimmy barely has time to tense before Major grips his nose over the mask and yanks, shoves it back into position as Jimmy lets out a hoarse cry at the burn. More blood spills out, and Major pulls his hands away in disgust before scrunching up a rag and shoving it under Jimmy’s nostrils. He holds it there until the flow slows, then adds a few pieces of tape over the mask to keep Jimmy’s nose in place before turning to other injuries.

He moves quickly and efficiently, cleaning and bandaging with the skill of one who’s done this before. Jimmy tries not to move too much, but he can’t help but jerk his leg away when Major lightly swipes a cloth over a particularly wide skin graft there. Major mutters something, then holds his leg firmly in place. He lets go before Jimmy can start to hyperventilate.

“Mind telling me what happened?” Major asks conversationally. When Jimmy doesn’t speak, he adds, “I mean, I’ve every right to arrest you. I shouldn’t have even let you in, but I happen to be a nice person. So you might as well share, if you don’t feel like waking up in a cell.”

Jimmy’s had too much of waking up in a cell lately. He swallows again, hums to make sure his voice works. “I . . . they hurt me,” he says lamely. His head is so foggy. He clears his throat and tries again. “They—they took me. And cut me. And took stuff. I—” a thought strikes him— “what day is it?”

“Uhhhhh, late Monday,” Major says absently, sticking some tape to Jimmy’s side.

“Date?”

“The 30th.”

“Of?”

“May.”

May. That can’t be. He was—the last day he can remember is the 25th of April, and he knows it’s been longer than five days, but surely it hasn’t been an entire month.

“I was . . . I was ki—taken. Late April,” Jimmy says slowly, the words falling like molasses from his mouth. Major freezes, looks up at him.

“You were kidnapped?” he asks incredulously. “That’s impossible. And nobody got struck by lightning or mauled by a passing bear? How?”

Jimmy shrugs. There are too many words involved in the answer for him to formulate it. “Xornoth?” he offers eventually. Major’s mouth curves down. He returns to patching Jimmy up.

“What would they want with you?” Major murmurs, almost to himself. “What would anyone want with you?” Jimmy tries to hold back a shudder and fails, the feeling of Xornoth petting his hair all too present. Major notices, and his mask shifts as he apparently raises an eyebrow.

“He . . . he wouldn’t stop touching me,” he says, and out of nowhere his eyes are burning. A tear slips down past his mask, dripping off his chin. “While the. The doctors hurt me. I don’t—I don’t wanna go back. . . .”

Major’s hands still. When Jimmy looks at him, his eyes are wide, wide and almost scared. Jimmy doesn’t think he can quite comprehend why. He just wants to sleep. His limbs are immobile, weighing him down. Everything hurts down to his bones, an ache that he doesn’t think will go away.

“I’mma sleep, ‘kay?” he slurs, then his chin hits his chest and he’s out.

-

When Jimmy wakes up, he’s hungry. Hungry and thirsty and exhausted and hurting, but he’s also alive and doesn’t feel like he’s dead.

He’s in a bed for once, and this certainly isn’t his cell or anywhere else he can remember ever being. The room is plain, undecorated apart from a dresser with a TV atop it. The only light is the sun filtering in through the window, bathing the room in an almost grey-orange hue.

He’s under a blue duvet in a very nice bed, and his left arm that lies on top of it is wrapped in bandages. It’s tough to take a breath in, something constricting his chest. He tries to sit up, gasps and falls back when pain lances through his chest.

“Good to see you’re finally awake,” a dry voice says from his right. Jimmy glances over, sees an open doorway and Major standing in it. Right, he’d escaped.

He’s free.

Major leaves, comes back a few minutes later with a glass of water and a peanut butter sandwich. These he sets on Jimmy’s lap, then reaches under the bed and retrieves a few pillows which he props under Jimmy’s shoulders and neck, helping him to sit up.

The water nearly spills, but Major flicks his wrist at it and it solidifies into ice just as Jimmy’s knee bumps it. Once he’s completely sat up, ribs twinging, Major waves his hand over the glass and it returns to water.

Unfortunately, Jimmy’s hands are still shaking too badly to grasp the glass on his own, so Major rolls his eyes and steadies his hold, allowing Jimmy to tip the water into his mouth. It’s easier to hold the sandwich, so Jimmy takes the food into both hands and bites into it, eyes almost rolling back into his head at how heavenly peanut butter tastes after so long without proper food.

Major leaves again, returns carrying a chair that he sets down beside the bed and plants himself in. He props a hand under his chin, watches Jimmy with those icy blue eyes. Jimmy’s almost halfway done with the sandwich already, tearing it apart so quickly the sandwich might as well be a blur.

Major’s hand latches around his wrist and Jimmy flinches away, drawing his arms close to himself. He—he doesn’t want to be touched, it feels bad, it burns, it’s scary. Major draws away as well, hands in the air.

“Apologies,” he says after several moments of silence. “I meant only to stop you before you got sick. You—well, you don’t look as though you’ve eaten in a while.”

Jimmy manages a raspy chuckle. “They gave me food,” he says. “I just wasn’t strong enough to open it.”

Major looks away. “You said,” he says slowly, voice unreadable, “that they—that Xornoth touched you. May I ask details?”

Jimmy feels the blood drain from his face. He really doesn’t want to talk about it, and now that his head is somewhat clearer than it’s been in apparently weeks, he remembers it clearer than ever. He self-consciously straightens his mask, probably getting peanut butter on it. “I—um—”

“I just need to know if they’re presenting a different danger than before,” Major continues. “I understand if it’s difficult to talk about, but if Xornoth is now sexually harming others, immediate action must be taken.”

Jimmy blinks a few times, processing that. Was Major implying—? “No, not—not like that,” corrects Jimmy, setting the remaining half of the sandwich down on the plate. His hands are trembling, and he clasps them together in an attempt to stop it. “I don’t think so. They would just—I would be on the table, and the scientists . . . cutting into me, or—or taking blood, or something, and they would just . . . pet. My hair. Or cheek. I didn’t—I don’t like—” he cuts off with a shudder, stomach turning. The sandwich before him no longer looks so appetizing.

When he looks back up, Major is staring at him. Major’s not wearing his usual blue-and-white skin-tight costume, he notices, the one with the intricate M on the chest and the white knee-high boots. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt and a blue jacket, like a normal person. And suddenly, despite the grand house and fame and power, Major just seems like anyone else Jimmy might meet on the street, and he wonders if the man has a layman identity like he does himself.

“Thank you for telling me that,” Major says, standing suddenly. “I don’t know when you’ll be well enough to walk—”

“Oh, right—” Jimmy fumbles with the plate, sets it on the mattress as he flips the covers back and swings his legs over the side of the bed, despite the pain that spikes through his body. “I really ought to—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” demands Major, gesturing for him to lie back down. “You’ve been tortured for a month, your stick legs barely look strong enough to not be blown over in the wind, you haven’t stopped shaking since I brought you in. Now lie back down and recover before I make you.”

Jimmy looks down at himself, at his bandages and hospital-style shorts. His entire torso is wrapped, but he can see how starkly his ribs stick out. He really has been slowly starving to death, hasn’t he?

Aside from that, he feels suddenly embarrassed. He’s practically naked in front of Major, who is the city’s foremost hero, two-time winner of the Nobel Prize, already has a documentary and four biographies written about him, and is ostensibly attractive to men and women alike with his tall, muscular frame and his windswept blue hair.

He really needs to leave. He’s getting antsy, anyway—now that he can be outside, he desperately wants to be. Not to mention, he’s regaining strength—slowly, but surely. At any moment, disaster could strike.

“No, I really—I’d like to be home, if it’s all the same to you,” he stammers, flexing his feet and holding back a wince. “Not that I’m not—I’m very grateful, thank you so much—I just don’t want to impose any longer, and I—my rent is due—yeah.”

Major seems to be about to protest, but he pauses, and then shrugs. “Fine, I don’t care. Let me get you something to wear.”

Major exits, and Jimmy bites back a whimper as he stretches his trembling arms. His various bandages pull, his nose burns every time his face twitches, every limb aches to the bone. He has to get out of here, though—he’s likely recovered enough strength for his bad luck to strike. He has to leave before he does anything to make Major hate him even more.

Major returns with a pair of jeans and a plain grey shirt. “We’re about the same height, but they might hang loose,” he says distractedly. “I burned the thing you were wearing, sorry. It was gross.”

Jimmy doesn’t even remember what he was wearing. Probably not his superhero-turned-antihero outfit, that had been pretty much torn to shreds over the course of his captivity. Major tosses the clothes on the bed and turns around respectfully.

Jimmy doesn’t bother taking off the shorts, bloodstained as they are. He’s not got anything on underneath, and he’d prefer to not be totally exposed in the house of someone who hates him. Pulling the jeans on is rough, and he has to take frequent breaks as his vision repeatedly goes fuzzy. The shirt isn’t as bad, but he can’t quite get his arms up without a grunt of pain as it pulls on his injuries. His vision fuzzes again, but when he blinks the world back into focus his arms are in the sleeves and he can just pull the shirt down.

“I might have some shoes,” Major says thoughtfully when Jimmy gives him the go-ahead to turn around. “And of course you can have a pair of socks. I once didn’t wear socks to a fight and my boots came off and everyone saw, so I had a group that gathered sock donations for me. I gave most of them away, but I’ve still got a few pairs.”

Major does end up finding him shoes, an old pair of gardening shoes that have a hole in the left toe. Jimmy’s more than grateful for them anyhow.

“What part of the city do you live in? I’ve got a car parked about a block away, I can get you near to your house.”

“Um, yeah, that’d be—that’d be way more than I expected, thank you so much,” Jimmy says with a yawn. “I—you really don’t have to.”

Major fixes him with an unimpressed look. “Right. Because you’re going to walk all the way home when you take eight minutes and forty-two seconds to even get dressed by yourself. And you’re going to manage to do it without getting kidnapped again.”

Jimmy looks away, his face turning red. He doesn’t want to admit it, but Major’s right. One step outside of Major’s protection and he would be whisked away.

It’s a long walk to Major’s car, one that has Jimmy gasping for breath and limping heavily. His head spins, his eyes squint in the evening light, his arms end up clenched around his body as he shivers. Major, walking casually, hair pulled up under a beanie, rolls his eyes and shucks off his blue button-up jacket, tossing it to Jimmy. Jimmy shrugs it on, a noise of pain slipping out as it rubs against a cut.

He stumbles over a curb and nearly falls, Major catching him around the waist before his face hits the pavement. The man rights him, helps him over the curb, then moves on without saying a word.

Jimmy’s about to pass out by the time they make it to the car. It’s older, nondescript, windows tinted so darkly that it’s practically impossible to see into. Major unlocks it with a click of a remote, and Jimmy seats himself gingerly in the passenger seat.

When Major turns the key in the ignition, the clock flickers on.

6:28PM.

It’s late in the day, then. Jimmy had slept all through the night and most of the day. Not that he’s surprised, but this is a huge change from his seemingly randomized hours in the cell. He can get up and go to bed whenever he likes now. He won’t be woken by a door slamming open and his body being lifted.

Once Major has driven to the main part of the city, Jimmy breaks the stifling silence by pointing out directions. He considers for a moment directing Major to the wrong place entirely, but his energy is far too low for that. He can let Major drop him off in the neighborhood, just won’t let him know which complex he lives in.

The quality and upkeep of the buildings deteriorate around them, farther and farther until Jimmy feels at home. They’re about five blocks from his place now, so he lets Major drive a bit more then directs him down the neighboring street, stopping outside a random apartment complex that looks to be in about the same condition of his building. Major looks up at it for a second, taking in the bags of trash in the side alley, the dead grass in the front yard, the multitude of potholes in the road, the kids in too-big shirts running up and down the roads with a football in hand.

“Don’t villains usually live more . . . underground? Metaphorically and literally?” Major asks slowly.

“Oh, I gave up the whole villain thing a while ago,” Jimmy answers, rubbing his eyes through the holes in his mask. “I don’t make a great hero either, so I’m trying out sort of an in-between right now.”

Major snorts. “Yeah, I think hero’s a bit out of your range,” he mutters. Jimmy once again realizes just how surreal this is: he’s in a car with the top hero of the city who also happens to be the man who hates him more than anyone, both of them wearing masks, him wearing the hero’s clothes. He starts to pull off the jacket, but Major waves him off.

“Don’t bother, I was about to retire that one anyway.”

Jimmy nods uncertainly, unbuckles his seatbelt. “Um. I’ll be off, then. Thank you, for . . . everything, I suppose.”

Major nods, his eyes following Jimmy as he swings open the car door and gathers enough strength to stand. “Oh, and, Solidarity?” he throws out. Jimmy leans forward to hear him over the engine. “Next time I see you, I’m putting you behind bars. This never happened, all right?”

“Right. Yeah. Never happened.” Jimmy nods to himself a few times, looks up at Major before turning away, easing the car door shut behind him.

When Jimmy enters his apartment thirty minutes later (the lock’s never worked so he doesn’t have to worry about lost keys), he kicks off Major’s shoes, stumbles to his bedroom, and collapses onto the bed. He needs to change his bandages, he needs to throw out his milk and eggs and bread, he needs to purchase a new phone, he needs to email his landlord and pay his rent. But he’s exhausted, he’s so bone-tired, and he hurts so much, and he just wants to sleep. So sleep he does, drifting away almost as soon as he’s pulled his covers that smell faintly of cigarette smoke over his chin.

Across the city, Xornoth steeples their fingers as they watch over the shoulder of a woman in a lab coat. The woman is excited, explaining something, a breakthrough, but Xornoth isn’t listening. Their eyes are fixed on the information on the woman’s laptop.

Their little bird will soon be caged once again.

[strangelysamantha]

 crumbled cookies ☆

jj maybank x plus!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: abuse/hitting, hate speech, fat shaming, bullying, insecurities, swearing, fighting, jj’s dad, luke (yikes!) mad jj, mention of pills. 

words: 3,365.

summary: you decide it would be a good surprise to stop by jjs house quickly to drop off some of your homemade cookies, since you believe he isn’t feeling the best. then, unexpectedly jj's dad comes home with an unwelcoming embrace, which ruins the surprise.

request? nope, but requests are open :)

a/n: i randomly thought about this, i obviously don’t believe that us plus size baddies should ever be insecure, but i thought it would be a nice little angst imagine with fluff at the end! if you could, please comment and like if you enjoyed it, thank you! after i write a few requests i will proofread my stories :)

my masterlist

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jj hadn’t answered any of your texts, usually this would worry you, but you understood that sometimes he just needed some space to be alone. you surprisingly were used to this because he always disappeared, and if he genuinely needed you, he knew where to find you. it also wasn’t bothering you because he had only been MIA for a few hours.

you, assuming that jj was just overwhelmed, decided to stay home and bake homemade cookies. jj always complimented your cookies, he loved taste testing them, and more importantly, he loved how you put so much effort into making them perfect, even if you were only making the cookies for him. jj wouldn’t admit it, but he definitely didn’t see you as just a friend. he didn’t know how he viewed you. he was too confused for his own good with his emotions. all he did know was that he depended on you, and that he never wanted to lose you. it would ruin him,  especially if he had done something to intentionally lose and hurt you.

you preheated the oven, excited to use a new cookie flavor for jj. you danced lightly to the music playing in the background of your kitchen, softly humming along as you gathered the dry ingredients, mixing them together. it was a fun little game you guys played, where he’d try and guess what extra ingredients you added that affected the cookie's flavor. he almost always got it wrong, but he was so cute sitting there always trying to guess it right, when he didn’t even know that much about cooking anyway.

unbeknownst to you, you were completely unaware of his feelings, despite the same feelings bubbling in your heart too. jj was your best buddy, and obviously you guys had flirtatious banter but it was nothing too serious. it didn’t help that every girl jj had a one night stand with, was the complete opposite of you. how could he like you, when every girl he fucks was not only skinny, but also rich, and mysterious?

pope wasn’t on your side either. he would always express how nauseated he felt when jj would jokingly flirt with you, and openly play with your feelings. he was quite vocal in scolding you when you would tell him that jj blew you off, or jj had pissed you off. deep down you did agree with pope, he wasn’t wrong.

a beep was heard from the oven as it was fully preheated. you had fully completed the cookie dough, now adding the most important ingredients. you decided to be nicer, and chose an easier flavor for jj to guess. you did this just in case something was seriously wrong he could at least be lifted up for guessing it right. m&ms and hershey’s kisses would be mixed together, creating a chocolate m&m hershey cookie, with added caramel on top. you quickly evenly separate the dough, before placing it in the oven waiting for it to rise.

the timer in the kitchen went off as you pulled the cookies out of the oven, careful to not burn yourself. you stick a knife into the cookie to ensure it was fully cooked before smiling contently to yourself. you let them cool off as you got dressed and prepared to go to jjs house.

you added caramel before sliding four cookies into a ziplock baggie. the cute baggy had a drawn on heart and a nice message for him. you didn’t expect to stay long, and you honestly didn’t even know if he would be home.

when you arrived to jjs house it looked vacant and abandoned. the nerves finally catching up to you as you realize he hasn’t talked to you all day. you knock on the front door, waiting for a response but you are left standing there waiting. you frown before hesitatingly walking down the steps. you look up when you hear a car approach, and a glimmer of hope flashes your mind as you thought it was jj, but instead it was his dad.

your heart was beating fast, and you didn’t know what to do. you waited to see if luke would talk but he just looked at you confused, and obviously annoyed. you shook your head quickly, “i’m so sorry, i was just going to drop these off for jj, but he’s not here so i’ll be on my way.” you smile softly, and start to walk away but his strong arms grab yours. you’re startled since his reaching for your elbow was quite unexpected.

“well you are already here. might as well get it over with.” his voice was unrecognizable as his emotions weren’t clear. you nod shyly. “no really i don’t want to inconvenience you, i can come at another time.” he shakes his head before walking to his door, opening it as the door loosely opens entirely, hitting against the wall to its side. you walk behind him being extra cautious in case he tries to grab you again.

you walk straight to the kitchen to set the bag of cookies on the counter, which was no use since right when you placed the bag, luke had scooped it into his hand reading the note. “oh, so you are the one dating my son?” your face twists in confusion. “no, no. jj and i are just friends.” you laugh awkwardly, swaying from feet to feet. the floors creak beneath you causing you to stop shaking back and forth. “okay good.” his eyes look up and down your figure as his mouth forms into a line. “i wouldn’t want him dating someone like… you.” his words hurt, but you didn’t want to break down in front of him.

you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare so you hurried to put an end to the conversation. “uhm. okay, welll thank you for letting me drop them off, i appreciate it mr. maybank.” you nod softly before he states, “no.” you turn over to him, “no?” you repeat as more of a question. your patience wears thin as you notice the cookies are still in his hand, and he is carefully undoing the ziplock that concealed the cookies.

he pulled a cookie out, before admiring it closely. “chocolate chip m&m caramel cookie. very yummy, very good choice.” you avoid eye contact, trying to focus on anything else displayed in the room. “and it’s still warm.” he stares at you as he takes a bite of the cookie, its crumbs slowly falling from where he sunk his teeth in. “it’s quite good.” you smile softly, “thank you… but-.” he cuts you off completely. “of course you, of all people, would be bringing him cookies. i’m not surprised, i can see you are trying to fatten my son.” his words stung you because this wasn’t what you were expecting. his father seemed intoxicated, and before you could leave it seemed like he still had stuff to say to you.

“yes the cookies are good, but they don’t excuse you for lying to my face. you are just like my ex wife… lying, scheming, going behind my back, but still creating delicious snacks.” you stumble back a little, as shock sets over you. “how did i lie?” you ask, quite confused as you hadn’t even talked to him that much. “i know you’re dating jj! i see his hickies i see that when he leaves this house it’s always to meet with your fat ass.” his words hold no meaning, he was just a lousy drunk taking his anger out on the closest thing to him. you stayed silent, when he suddenly shook his head before grabbing the rest of the cookies and throwing them on the floor, jumping on the bag, completely squishing them.

the once yummy cookies, now downgraded into a small pitiful pile that was brutally smeared against the kitchen's tile. your heart speeds up as his eyes are focused on yours, as if trying to read your emotions. “i’m sorry, but i’m not sure what i did to deserve you ruining my cookies?” your tone comes out sassier than intended which definitely didn’t help your case.

“pick it up.” he threw paper towels towards you, as he waited patiently for you to clean up his mess. you silently obeyed scooping your mutated bakery treat up. you got most of it cleaned, but you ran out of napkins. you bite your lip trying to think of a quick solution to finish picking it up so you could possibly leave, but it’s too late because he’s already grabbing your arm forcing you up. tears stream down your face, while you contemplate your choices.

before you could even register what had just happened, his hand had collided with your cheek, as he screams hurtful comments. “you are good for nothing. i honestly hope that jj didn’t choose you, because if he did, that would make him an embarrassment to this family.” he pushes you to the floor, and you quickly try to stand up so you can leave. you hurry to the door, but he catches you before you could get in your car and drive away. 

“you can't tell anyone about this. i swear if you tell anyone...” his tone is laced with venom and your face scrunches up in confusion. “dont act stupid! god this is why people treat you the way they do.” you look at him one last time before he sends a fast fist to your face, that hits the side of your nose, and your eye. your face begins to pulse as the blood rushes to the quick forming bruise. you couldn't think straight as everything had happened so fast. all you wanted to do was drop off cookies, but somehow you were now being punished just because you resembled this man's wife. your breath is shaky as your tears are starting to slow down, but they are still evident on your cheeks. 

jj’s dad stumbled backwards as if he had finally realized what he had done, before he eventually collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. as he landed on the couch, multiple loose pills fell from his pockets ensuring you that he wasn't mentally in the right place, and he was very obviously intoxicated.

you avoided jj at all costs, which was actually easy since he hadn't even contacted you. you were dreading his routine appearance that was bound to happen soon. you knew it was inevitable, he hasn't missed a nightly check in once, and you had been doing it for months. when you first met the pogues you were slightly scared since you were new in town and you didn't have any friends. so, jj took you under his wing. he quickly became protective over you, which is why he created this elaborate plan to sneak into your bedroom before bed every night. whether it was to just chat, talk about your day, or even just cuddle. you could always expect him at your window at around the same time every night.

usually you would confide in jj, ask for his advice. granted his advice isn't the greatest but it does help that he listens to your problems. not tonight. that wasn't the case. if anything, you wholeheartedly hoped that he would forget, or he would be too busy. he hadn't seen you since before your whole encounter with his father. you wondered if his father had told jj about what he did, and if he did, how did jj react?

you glance at the clock noticing that in the next ten minutes jj would be climbing his way into your window. your body was shaking with nerves as you glanced in the mirror. your black eye was a dead give away that something had happened. could you even tell him the truth? what if you lied, and then he called you out on it saying he already knew about it because his father told him. you contemplated every outcome of the future event that you weren't even ready when he slightly tapped your window. you quickly pulled on sunglasses that easily blocked your eye.

you smile widely, sliding your window up as he gracefully lands on your floor without making a noise, a talent he had perfected. “hey princess!” he has a huge grin on his face, his goofy smile is reason enough as to why you can't break the news to him about what his father did. “hi!” jj pulls you into a hug and you gladly take it. you wrap your arms tightly around his abdomen, as his arms are rubbing your hips. the hug ends and he slowly pulls away, his hands lingering on your hips before he grabs your hand to move to the bed. “do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” jj asked. you waited, contemplating your choices. “either way is fine, you can choose.” you smile as he immediately gets into the little spoon position.

“hey i forgot to ask you why you are wearing those stupid glasses inside.” he laughs lightly as he reaches for them and you completely jump off the bed, scared he actually grabbed them in time. luckily, you were fast enough and the glasses were still settled on your face. “i have a horrible headache, that's all.” you nodded as his face slowly fell, he stood up, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. he glanced up at you. “we can turn the lights off so it isn't as bright in your room.” you shook your head at his compromise. “princess, i need to see your pretty face before i can declare that you are okay.” you hesitated, trying to piece together a quick story that you could tell him to explain how you wounded up with a gruesome bruise. he wasn't going to leave unless he knew you were okay.

he watched you intently, trying to see what you were hiding. “before i show you please promise me you won't freak out.” you reach for his hands and he grabs them in return, slowly nodding. “no, that's not going to count. please tell me that you won't be angry at me.” his heart swiveled up inside his chest as he heard that you thought he would be mad at you. “i promise that whatever you are about to tell me won't make me upset, and that i could never stay mad at you.” you nodded to his words. “okay so you know what you just said?” he tilted his head confused, “yeah?” you breathe in, trying to calm your nerves. “remember that.”

you hesitantly reach your arm up to expose your once hidden eyes. at first it doesn't register so he stares at you blankly. but the moment he saw it, he was already standing up, and freaking out. “hey you said you wouldn't be mad!” he ran fingers through his blonde hair, his eyes wide. “what the fuck…? i said i wouldn't be mad if YOU did something, i never said anything about not getting mad when it involves someone else!” he looks back at you and immediately investigates your eye. his jaw clenched as he looked above you, his hand gripping your chin. “who the fuck did this to you?” you stayed quiet, until he looked down at you waiting for an answer. 

silence fills the room leaving it eerily silent. “i can't tell you jj,” he laughs, shaking his head, “that's a funny joke, now tell me what happened and who the fuck hit you?” you looked away. “jj there's nothing you can do.” he followed along with your shenanigans. “and why is that?” you couldn't look at him so you looked at the floor. your silence was only making him more worried. “who was it actually? who are you protecting!?” he was getting frustrated. “fine. i'll tell you, only because i know you'll find out sooner or later.” he pulled you onto his lap, one hand holding your thigh, while the other grabbed your curvy hip. you took a deep breath before continuing. “okay. earlier today i baked you cookies and i stopped by your house so i could drop them off. but your dad was there, and i was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. it was my fault. okay?” 

he shook his head, his grip on your thigh tightening. “you're telling me that my father gave you a black eye?” his tone was shockingly low as he absorbed every word you said. “yes. and he stomped on the cookies i made you.” his chest started heaving. “i fucking hate him! everything in my life he has to ruin. you, you mean so fucking much to me, and he’s over here throwing punches at you!” you stayed quiet. “jj?” he looked down at you, trying not to get too worked up because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you, “yes princess?” you hesitated with what you were going to say. you leaned your head to rest onto his shoulder.

“i- okay, i really appreciate you, but i can't have you getting hurt because of me. you're not my boyfriend, and you don't have to protect me anymore. i know you feel obligated with that pact we made when i first moved here, but you don't have to inconvenience yourself by coming over here every night, or by fighting people who harass me, or anything. jj, i feel so bad that you are roped into this position because i never intended for this to happen.” he stays silent, “no way am i leaving you. princess, please throw that thought away right now. i’m here for you always. and i am going to continue to protect you because even if i'm not your boyfriend, that doesn't mean i don't want you safe.”

you are so stunned by his response that your breath gets caught in your throat. “what do you mean?” he smiles looking down, his hands finding themselves comfortable around your hips. “what i'm saying is, that i do want to be your boyfriend. i want people to know how much you mean to me, and i want the whole world to be jealous that i have you, and they can't have you. i want to be the one who protects you. so, if you'd want me too, i'd love to be your boyfriend, if not that is completely okay.” you stared at him, “jj, you'll never know how long i've wanted to do this.” he looks at you confused before your lips connect to his. you run your hand through his hair, while the other hand is sitting on his jaw. his hands hungrily grasp your hips as he pulls you closer to enhance the kiss. you both pull away, smiling.

you asked jj to spend the night with you. he agreed, which resulted in him laying on his back as your head lay still on his chest. one of his hands was always touching you, so he could ensure you weren't going to go anywhere. as you slowly fell asleep beside him, he started to think about what his father had done. with anger clouding his better judgement, he stealthily slipped out your grasp, and climbed out your window, set to fulfil the goal in his head.

eek i hope this was good <333. perhaps a part two...???

[taestefully-in-luv]

Part I, no.15 kook please 💜

Pompt: “I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment.”

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, vaginal fingering, oral (Female receiving)

*sorry for any typos! enjoy:) And don't be shy, send me number and a member!*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“One of these days y/n, you will just give in and admit you’re in love with me.” You want to wipe off Jungkook’s smug ass smile off his stupidly handsome face as he gazes at you, his arms crossed over his chest. You continue to ignore him though, dipping your chip into the dip.

“In your fucking dreams, Jeon.”

Ari is your best friend, she’s sweet, lovely and overall charming. Her brother though…not sweet, not lovely and maybe just fucking maybe a little charming. In his own weird way. You are more than used to his behavior towards you—he’s just your best friends annoying younger brother.

“Jungkook, why don’t you leave y/n alone?” Ari whines, “She’s going through something right now.”

Your eyes slide to Ari and you roll them, scoffing.

“I’m barely going through anything.” You huff out, “Sung-Ho can suck my dick.”

“He was your boyfriend of 6 months!” she tries to reason for you. “And he…”

“He what?” Jungkook cuts in, his voice serious. “Did he cheat on you? I knew that asshole was well, an asshole.” Jungkook starts getting worked up, his anger bubbling over.

“Chill dude.” You bring the chip to your lips. “The past is in the past.”

“It literally only happened last night…” Ari reasons again. “Anyway, the shower is free now y/n. Feel free to wash all that chlorine off your body!”

“Shall I join you?” Jungkook smirks and you hit his gut, causing him to groan. “Fine, fine.”

You make your way up the stairs and head towards the bathroom. Once inside you begin removing your swim suit and turning on the shower, the water starts off chilly but eventually warms up. You moan when you feel the hot water on your back, you dip your head back letting the water run through your hair and you feel grateful for the alone time. Sung-Ho cheated on you. You found out last night and came running to Ari’s arms, she held you as you sobbed and sobbed.

But today, you are stone cold. Trying to forget the very existence of your ex-boyfriend. How did you find out about him cheating on you? You heard it. You walked into his apartment and heard him fucking some chick in his bedroom. The sounds permanently in your mind.

You hurry with your shower, rinsing off before you are turning off the water. You grab your towel and begin drying off…you search the bathroom for your clothes when it hits you that you left them in Ari’s bedroom. Well, you’ll just make a run for it to her room, no harm no foul.

You leave the bathroom and begin walking towards Ari’s room when you hear a booming voice.

“I’m not leaving until I see her!” You know that voice. Your fucking ex.

“Sung-Ho, get out.” You hear Ari yell back, “Just go!”

You start to feel panicked…Sung-Ho is here? You are half way to her room when you decide you cannot do this. You cannot face him. In panic, you rush to the next closest room. You quietly make your way inside, shutting the door behind you.

You hear Sung-Ho say “Did you hear that?” and you decide you need to hide. You run to the bed and throw back the covers and slip inside the bed, bringing the blanket over your mostly wet body. You realize this is a horrible hiding place but maybe if he comes in here he will think it’s someone else just sleeping. Or something.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opens. You feel your heart begin to race, you swear anyone from a 25 mile radius can probably hear it thumping so loudly. You try to hold your breath, not ready to face this situation. You slam your eyes shut and breathe in and out, in and out. Then…the blanket is being lifted off your body, your wet body that is hardly being covered by this sorry of an excuse towel.

“I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment.”

Your eyes shoot up and you see Jungkook standing, basically hovering over your body with his arms crossed over his chest. He has the most shit eating grin as his eyes scan your body.

“I’m wearing a towel…” you mumble lamely and he nods his head mockingly.

“I knew this would happen eventually y/n, but maybe not like this.” Jungkook smirks, gesturing towards your body.

“Shut up, Jeon.” You sit up, grabbing the top of the towel and try to slide it up higher, covering more of your breasts. Jungkook’s eyes you shamelessly, his smirk only growing. You take a deep breath and look at him with a frown.

“My ex is here so I’m hiding.” You admit, “Let me live.”

Jungkook’s smirk begins to fade as he processes your words, his eyes hardening.

“That asshole is here?”

“Yeah. So can you keep it down?” You usher for him to quiet down, your hands gesturing for him to lower his volume.

“Ari told me exactly what happened.” He says quietly. “Instead of lowering our volume we could…raise it.” He finishes with raised brows and a sly smile forming.

“W-What do you mean, Jungkook?”

“You heard him with another girl.” He sits down on the edge of the bed, “What if he hears you with another guy?” his fingers dance up your arm and you shiver. You aren’t sure if it’s because you’re kind of wet and he has his ceiling fan rotating in cold circles or because it’s Jungkook. And he sometimes makes you feel a certain way you would rather forget.

“You want me to get revenge?” you whisper shout, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Don’t you want him to feel what you felt?” Jungkook slides his fingers down your arm, until he’s playing with your fingertips. “I can help you with that.”

“How…how would you help with that?” you ask, feigning innocence.

You know how he could help with that. This wouldn’t be the first time you and Jungkook have messed around. Before you started dating Sung-Ho, you and Jungkook may have accidentally drunkenly hooked up after Ari went to sleep one time. Whoops.

“He probably isn’t used to the sound of you coming…but maybe he should hear it.” Jungkook’s eyes meet yours, they’re playful and scheming and you can’t help but fall for his charm.

“You think you could make me come?” you challenge, “How would you go about that?”

“How about I just show you?” He gently pushes you back by the shoulder, laying you down on his bed, your head falling on his pillow.

“This is just for revenge, Jeon.” You breathe out roughly, anticipating his next move.

He nods his head dramatically. “Oh, for sure.” He says with a smirk. “Revenge only.”

Then his hands are at the towel and he’s slowly unwrapping it from your body, revealing your wet, naked form.

“Fuck.” Jungkook whines, “I have fucked my hand thinking about this view again.”

“You’ve thought about me?” you play dumb, “In your fantasies, what do you do first?”

Jungkook crawls over your body and starts kissing down your neck, his lips tickling your sensitive skin.

“Kiss your body.” He admits weakly. “Over and over.” His lips find your collarbone, he sucks on the skin until he continues until his lips are wrapped around you left nipple, his hand massaging your other breast.

“Kiss all the way down.” He whispers, “Until you’re screaming for me.”

“Ari is going to hear…” you realize, your breathe quick and short.

“Mostly importantly your nobody ex is going to hear.” He kisses down your stomach, his lips traveling lower and lower. Then his face is hovering over your pussy, he darts his tongue out and looks up at you.

“Sweet, sweet revenge.” Then his face is buried between yours legs, licking a strip from your hole to your clit causing you to groan in satisfaction that you finally feel him. He starts licking you over and over, flicking his tongue just right. You squirm in your spot on his bed, your loud moans escaping your parted lips.

“Ah….” You whine, “Fingers too, please.” You begin to beg and Jungkook smirks into your pussy. He brings his hand to your center and enters one then two fingers inside your desperate hole.

“Two is all you get.”

“Ugh, one more, please.”

“I said, two is all you get.” He repeats, thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“Such a….such a fucking brat, Jeon.” You gasp when he curls his fingers and they brush against a sensitive spot. “Need your mouth.” You beg and he digs back in, his tongue assaulting your bundle of nerves. His warm, wet, slippery tongue is setting you over the edge, your moans filling his ears, filling the room, filling the house. His tongue and fingers fuck you so well, it reminds you of the first time you hooked up with him, how he gave you his full attention.

“So close, Jungkook.” You whine, wrapping your legs around his head. Squeezing him tight as he finally adds in that third finger.

“Gonna-Gonna come.” You warn him, you feel your body tense and get lit on fucking fire as your orgasm approaches.

“Jungkook!” You scream out his name as a huge wave of pleasure washes over you as he continues to lick you up, you move your body around, feeling overly stimulated.

“Okay okay.” You sigh out, completely out of breath.

Jungkook kisses your inner thighs before he is rising from your body. “You were only a little loud.” He pouts, “Might have to fuck you so he can really hear.”

Your eyes widen before you are relaxing beneath him, you can’t help the smirk that draws itself on your face.

“Revenge, right baby?”

[codename-adler]

Death of Heroes

Because not even Neil can outrun the ephemerality of men.

Renee is the first one to go. 

Nearing sixty but never reaching it, she is outlived by Abby and Wymack. At least Stephanie Walker is waiting for her at the gates of Heaven, but for the rest of her Foxes, the loss is heavy.

It’s cancer. Leukemia.

It started with the bruises from her sparring matches with Andrew not healing very well. Then not at all. After decades of maintaining these monthly meetings, of keeping her body healthy, Renee finally has to give it up. She knows something is wrong, and she knows that these sessions won’t be of any help, now.

Then the extreme fatigue starts. Still, Renee doesn’t do a thing about it. Or at least, she lets life go its own course. She looses weight, which she already doesn’t have much of. But then the nosebleeds begin, and it’s no use telling Allison to stop worrying. The diagnosis is unsurprising, yet still shattering. And it’s not a good prognosis either, but it’s still not bad enough for the doctor to give up the Five-Year survival plan.

Renee has to speak up. Ally, I don’t want to do this. She has to put her foot down. Allison, my love, it’ll be okay. I won’t get better, you and I both know that. But it can be okay. It can still be good.

Renee doesn’t get treatment. Renee doesn’t tell anybody, except Andrew. Because Andrew knows, somehow, that she made a terrible, irreversible choice. Because Andrew only deals in truths. Because Andrew is Andrew, and just as he needed her all those years ago, she needs him now.

A little more than six months pass, with less and less outings from Renee and more and more excuses from Allison, and Renee gets sick. Really sick. It starts like a regular cold. Then it looks more like the flu. And suddenly it’s pneumonia, and respiratory difficulties, and lung failure. She’s in that hospital bed, wearing that gown, breathing in that mask. Renee finally nods to Allison, giving her consent.

Ally makes the call.

Only Andrew and Dan make it in time.

Renee Walker goes out like a light.

The Foxes, who had once upon a time been used to murders, life-threatening schemes and acts of extreme violence, had never really known Death itself. The simple, yet inevitable fate of human lives. Of going quietly into the night. It’s all so quiet. So anticlimactic. It’s so quiet, too quiet, too heavy with silence. This time, there is no one to blame, no one to punish, no one to take responsibility.

It’s just life. It’s just death.

Wymack and Abby can’t believe that one of their Foxes, on of their kids, left before them. Renee’s Korean roots made her look barely a day over forty, which made it all so much worse. Renee’s death takes a toll on every single one of them. Because it’s Renee, the best of them. Because all her papers are in orders, her will to date, her wishes known; just as when she was alive, she leaves no chaos behind her.

There is nothing and no one to be mad at, except life.

In the cemetery where Stephanie Walker is buried, Andrew buys a large lot of land. (Large enough to one day welcome all the Foxes) The tomb is moved over there, and Renee’s name is added. A tree is planted above her scattered ashes. It’s very small, very fragile, but with the years, it grows strong.

For the first time, the Foxes realize that, despite going through Hell and back in their youth, they are not immortal. There is nothing to be done about that, but it hurts. It hurts to lose their angel this way, so soon, so suddenly. It hurts to lose, period. It feels like a failure, like giving up. They lost her. They lost.

But somehow, they gained something else they might never know about. Renee might have been the only religious one among them, but that didn’t stop her from becoming their Guardian Angel. Because somehow, from then on, the Foxes were spared.

Let me show you.

Just as Bee had a few years before Renee, Abby, then Wymack, simply die in their sleep, no fight, no agony. None of them have to see another Fox go before them. They don’t have to go through that indescribable ordeal ever again. They are spared the pain.

Then decades pass, enough for the remaining Foxes to grow very old, and live very long. Not infinitely, but long enough.

Matt is the next one to go.

Matt has worked hard all his life, both mentally and physically. It comes to no surprise, then, that arthritis chose to invade his body. For the first few years living with the diagnosis, natural medicine and osteopathy are enough to keep the pain at bay. It doesn’t stop Matt from doing anything. He babysits his 9 grandchildren with Dan every week; he goes on roadtrips with Dan every summer; he goes on a light jog with Dan every day.

It’s just that one day, it’s not enough anymore. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the pain becomes too much for Matt to do his day-to-day activities. And really, the pain, he could take; it was an old friend, a familiar feeling, almost like a sixth sense.

It was the mental toll of it all that he couldn’t take. To have to say no to seeing his grandchildren. No to driving around endlessly and aimlessly for hours. No to waking up in sync with Dan every morning, and no to their routine, and no, and no, and just- not living.

For the first time in a long time, Matt doesn’t want to do this anymore.

But he does, still. He smiles, and he lies, and he tries to will away the pain.

It all comes down to one afternoon, when he takes his painful walk of the day around the neighborhood. There are three little kids playing Exy in their driveway, when suddenly a ball escapes their racquets and rolls down in the street. The smallest kid runs after it, runs and runs and runs, without looking. Kind of like Neil, Matt thinks to himself before his body acts of his own. The kid doesn’t see the car, and the car doesn’t see the kid. Matt sees both.

The BMW is going way over the limit, its sleek black sides reflecting the sun too brightly. Despite his pain, despite his age, despite his now slow reflexes, Matt leaps. He screams at the kid to stop and turn around, to let the ball roll away, but to no avail. 

Matt pushes the kid away in time for the car to hit him instead, and only him.

The rest becomes a blur, but the final verdict is as such: broken hip, shattered leg, probably won’t walk ever again, even with surgery. The doctors and surgeons warn Matt that with his age, his pre-existing condition, and his drug history, surgery might kill him. But Matt refuses to be bedridden for the rest of his already miserable life. Dan knows that. She knows that he has to try. Knows that he might not pull through. She also knows that Matt wants to go, has wanted to for a while now. 

She calls Neil. She calls Allison. From there, all the Foxes are bound to get the news. Matt promises to wait until their arrival before going into surgery. In the meantime, the nurses start a morphine line, after warning the couple very strongly about the side effects and the risks. But Matt is in pain, terrible pain, and it’s a compromise to wait for his Foxes. It takes about a week for all of them to come to his bedside, with Nicky being last, coming all the way from Germany. Neil and Allison barely leave his room; Dan doesn’t at all. The others take turns, leaving as much space for Matt’s kids and grandkids as their hearts can allow.

The open spot for Matt’s surgery is on a Friday.

Matt Boyd does not make it to Friday. 

The morphine is too heavy on his heart. It was a possible outcome, not as alarming as the upcoming surgery, but... Matt had secretely wished to go ever since and- maybe, up there in Heaven, someone heard him... 

Dan and Matt had had a mutual understanding, that it was okay, but it doesn’t make it any more easy to let go. 

Two months into Matt’s departure, Allison moves in with Dan. She walks her through every stage of grief. She grieves all over again herself, too. But they make it.

Same goes for Andrew with Neil. Neil doesn’t know loss like this. Death like this.

And yet. And yet. Deep, deep down, Neil is scared. That after all his years of running, and fighting, and lying, he won’t get that peaceful ending Matt was granted.

But Neil lives.

And Nicky leaves.

A few months after Matt, he and Erik simply stay in the States. They say it’s because they want to be close, because they don’t want to miss anything, because they don’t want to risk a Fox leaving without a chance at saying goodbye. Because Nicky misses his Aaron and his Andrew.

Which are all valid and true motives. It’s just not the whole truth.

Nicky has dementia. Alzheimer’s, to be precise. Diagnosed about a year ago. It’s not bad yet, but- It’s the endless back-and-forth between the house and “der Supermarkt” because Nicky forgot what he drove there for in the first place. It’s forgetting words in all the languages Nicky speaks. It’s freaking out at all the Germans speaking German, because Nicky sometimes believe he is still living in America. It’s not finding the Columbia house and panicking when Nicky can’t get a hold of Andrew or Aaron.

It’s hard, it’s heartbreaking, it’s terrifying, but it’s manageable.

Once Nicky and Erik settle back down in North Carolina, they both wonder how long it’ll take before the twins figure it out, because there is no way Nicky is telling them, but he also knows nothing can get past his twins.

And he’s right. Between Aaron’s acute knowledge of Medicine and Andrew’s reknown lie-detector skills, it takes about 14 days for them to take Nicky hostage and demand the truth. 

As the year comes to an end, Nicky’s dementia doesn’t seem to progress that much. He seems to escape the worst. He doesn’t forget anyone. He doesn’t become aggressive, doesn’t go missing, doesn’t lose any function of his body. Without looking too closely, Nicky is simply getting old. 

The twin girls he and Erik adopted get to move back in for a little while, having lived in the U.S. all their lives and seeing their parents fly to Germany after their retirement. They know, too, and try to make the most of it. They are lucky. They are so lucky. Nicky is a miracle patient.

In the end, though, it’s Nicky’s body rather than his mind that gives out. Once you reach a certain point in time living with the disease, but without the general complications of it, eventually the brain has trouble managing all the organs of the body. So instead of forgetting to eat, or forgetting names and faces, sometimes your brain doesn’t remember how to make your heart beat. Or how to make make your lungs breathe.

Nicky Hemmick stops breathing in the middle of the night, after having wished his twin daughters goodnight, texted his other set of twins goodnight, and kissed his husband goodnight. Nicky had thought, then, that it was indeed, a good night.

Just as he had remembered his Foxes until the end, he was remembered by them as the big-hearted lover that Heaven had just gained as its new angel.

Too soon after him, though, it’s Allison’s turn. 

It’s not that she’d simply been waiting around for the day she could be reunited with Renee. She just didn’t understand why her Foxes kept leaving, and why she was still stuck here without her other half. 

She didn’t just wait, though. She helps Dan out with the grandkids, and sometimes the grown-up kids too. She volunteers a lot. She gives back to the Columbia community, and all around the world. She travels to places she’s never been, places that remind her of Renee, but are void of painful memories. She empties their bucket list, and much more. The last thing Allison has yet to do, the only thing left to do, is mending her relationship with her parents. Or parent. Singular. In spite of everything, including the death of her husband, Francesca Reynolds was still standing strong at the head of the Reynolds empire. 100 years old was nothing when you lived in spite. 

In a twisted way, Allison believed that maybe her mother was the last piece she needed to mend before she was allowed to go. That despite being gone for years, Renee was still there somewhere, looking out for her and making sure she didn’t have any regrets. 

So Allison accomplished the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the impossible. For the first time in decades, she flew back to the Reynolds estate and spoke to her mother. In person. 

It was not the emotional reunion Renee might have hoped for, but it was a reunion still. That was more than enough for Allison. They didn’t talk about the big things. The important things. But they talked. They talked. And they scheduled another talk. 

Back home with Dan, Allison embraced her friend and let the tears fall. She was grateful for her friend, but both of them knew that these were not the arms Allison wished to be held in. She went to rest a bit before dinner, and she tried to imagine how it would feel like to have Renee hold her again.

For someone as loud, as present and as strong as she was, Allison Walker slipped quietly from time. 

When Dan found her, she could only smile tearfully. She played with her hair one last time as she called her Foxes.

Allison left Dan in charge of her finances, and so she took over her charity duties and went above and beyond to honor her friend’s memory. Her sister.

Dan thought she would be next. She wished, she hoped, she prayed to be next.

She wasn’t.

Kevin was.

He might have been the biggest and hardest loss to weather. It wasn’t a feeling that could be explained. As painful as it had been to lose Renee, and Matt, and Nicky, and Allison, losing Kevin was... the great and terrible 10, as they’d say.

Kevin should have died way sooner. His liver should have given out because of all the alcohol it had endured in Kevin’s youth. His heart should have given out because of all the stress it had faced for most of Kevin’s life. All the bad things that could happen with old age should have happened to Kevin, but they didn’t. They didn’t. 

Death came knocking one day, and politely asked him if he would please follow them, and Kevin simply took it as a sign that his time was up.

That day, Kevin had felt a numbing pain in his chest all morning long. Used to little injuries here and there, he hadn’t thought anything of it. And he certainly wasn’t about to worry his doctor of a husband... 

However, as the sun reached it’s highest in the sky, Kevin couldn’t really hide his pain any longer. He had lain down on their couch for a bit, but he couldn’t seem to get back up. It was too exhausting. So he called for Aaron, as loud as he could in the state he was. 

As Aaron stumbled into the living room, Kevin tried to use his softest voice to inform his husband of the situation. Aaron immediately called an ambulance, and when the vehicle took them both away, he reached for his phone again to make, once again, a terrible call to their Foxes. But through his oxygen mask, Kevin reached out to grap his wrist and whispered, with difficulty, just Neil... just Andrew...

Because here’s the thing: Kevin loved his Foxes, and his Foxes loved him back. Immensely. 

He loved them so much he had married one, with another one of them as best man (Neil), another as his husband’s (Andrew), and yet another one as their celebrant (Renee). 

They loved him so much that it was only short of worship by a hair or two. And Kevin knew that. He loved Dan like a sister. And by extension, he loved Erik like a brother, too. And he loved all the Foxes’ children and grandchildren like his own, despite never being a parent himself. 

But Neil and Andrew... There were no words for what they were to him. He knew that he wouldn’t have to talk them through it. He knew they would be the only ones strong enough and close enough to hold Aaron up in case it all turned to shit the moment he passed the hospital doors. 

And being the History nerd he had always been, Kevin had written letters, a long time ago. To his Foxes. Most of them had left before him, and so he could never give them their letters, but Dan, and Erik for Nicky, could still have those letters. Kevin poured everything into these letters. It had taken him years, ever since Renee’s departure. He wrote, and threw away, and started again, until he got it right. Nine letters, for his nine Foxes. Andrew knew about it. He’d give Nicky’s and the upperclassmen’s to Dan and Erik, and they’d understand. Kevin didn’t want them to be there, at the very end of it all. He just wanted Aaron. And Neil. And Andrew.

Those three had letters waiting for them, too. Andrew would hand them over a month later. But he would never open his.

Andrew and Neil arrived just before 1 PM. Kevin was hooked on all sorts of IVs and still had the oxygen mask on. His heart monitor was beeping very, very slowly, erratically. He was still Kevin Day in all his gloriousness, but he was much more Kevin, their beloved Kevin.

On one side of the hospital bed, Aaron never let go of Kevin’s hand. On the other side, Kevin removed the mask and weakly motioned for Neil to take the other hand. But Neil was stunned. Frozen. So Andrew came up behind him, and held Kevin’s hand. 

It would be the first, and the last time.

Just as Neil finally sprung into action and went to put a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, feeling his wiry muscles and his fragile bones underneath the hospital gown, Kevin closed his eyes. 

The heart monitor began flatlining.

Neil looked at the monitor, then to Kevin. He looked at Andrew, then back at Kevin, and then at Aaron. His eyes couldn’t stay focused on one thing. He was still hoping. He was still refusing.

Aaron lowered his head. Kissed Kevin’s hand.

Andrew held on tighter to Kevin’s other hand. Gripped the back of Neil’s neck.

Kevin took Death’s hand, which felt a lot like Aaron’s, and Andrew’s, and Renee’s, and walked away.

Aaron unplugged the monitor. And called it.

Time of death: 13:01.

It took exaclty one month, day for day, for Aaron to leave as well. They called it the Broken Heart Syndrome. On the surface, Aaron had held it together. But Andrew knew. He saw. That he was losing him as well. 

Some could say that, by handing over Kevin’s letter, Andrew killed his brother. But those who would say that didn’t even begin to understand the complexity of the bond between twin brothers. Especially not the Minyards. 

Because what Andrew really did, with that letter, was gifting Aaron with relief.

Peace. Quiet. 

Love. 

Aaron could exhale, now. He would see Kevin soon, now.

And so in the same room, in the same bed as his husband’s, Aaron Minyard forced Death’s hand and demanded to see Kevin again.

And then there were three.

Dan lived for so long that she started to fear outliving her children. She felt old, so old. In her head and in her heart. She did not believe in a God, but she often found herself praying to someone, anyone. She did not believe in angels and demons, but she often wondered how long they would keep her from Death.

So she waited. For the days to go and the nights to pass. She barely ate anymore. She barely moved. She was only feeling okay when she slept outside, in her chair in the backyard, the sun shinning on her beautiful face. She could sleep for hours there, surrounded by her lively garden. The wind swayed her skirts, the trees whispered in her ears. It was okay.

And at the same time, it wasn’t. 

She was tired. She was lonely. Even Erik, a couple of years ago, had gone to rejoin his husband. Neil visited her at least once a week, but he still had Andrew. He couldn’t understand, nor could he stay away from him for too long. He would miss him too much.

Every year she celebrated another birthday, and every year she blew her candles wishing they were her last.

And at last, her wish came true.

Dan was expecting one of her kids to come by in the afternoon. The Carolina sun was shinning quite hard on her, so she had placed her chair in way that let the sunlight hit the back of her head, turned away completely from her house. Her daughter knew exactly where to find her when she arrived, and so she didn’t wait for a response to her presence before making her way down into the garden. She had called her mother multiple times, and had assumed she was sleeping when she hadn’t answered.

Dan was not sleeping.

Dan Wilds had left this world, the sunlight pouring down on her like the radiant goddess that she was.

Being one of the last Foxes, it took a day before Neil and Andrew got the news of her death. They don’t get involved in the funeral preparations, but they show up. And that’s enough. 

People don’t really bother them anymore, so they can bid farewell to their Captain in relative peace. They come by Dan’s house aftwerwards, too, and help her kids out with everything. Yes, even Andrew. 

Dan’s death makes them reflect the most.

About the Foxes. About each of their departures. How they all lived a good and long life. How they all died a good and quiet death. 

They think about how they were always the ones nearing death, always fighting to stay alive. About how they died a million deaths before the age of 18.

They think about how they are the last ones standing, even after everything. 

They survived. They lived. 

(They loved)

Neil and Andrew should not have gotten this far. They should not have lived this long. They shouldn’t have. But somehow, somewhere above, someone has watched over them and made sure that they didn’t get the ending they should’ve had, but the ending they deserved.

Neil and Andrew don’t really want to die. They don’t really want to live on either. But they take every day that they are given, to be with each other, to mend their hearts still, to breathe. 

They take every breath they can.

They wonder who will leave first. Who will have to say goodbye and stay behind, who will have to wait. 

It’s a fear neither of them had ever thought they’d have. Not like that.

And it’s only a matter of time before they get their answer. They are, after all, getting very old. It is both a blessing and a curse.

After decades of partnership, Neil and Andrew still go to bed the same way they did when they were eighteen. Both facing each other, their hands joined in the middle, their nose a breath apart.

After decades of peace, Neil and Andrew still wake from sleep at the slightest abnormality.

Which is why the minute Neil Josten gives out his last breath, Andrew awakes.

Neil’s hand in his is still warm and his skin is still soft. His hair, although completely white for quite some years now, still have that bronze glow to them. They’re still curly, and soft to the touch. Andrew passes a hand through them before resting it on the back of Neil’s neck. 

He looks at Neil like it’s the first time, tries to memorize every detail of his beautiful face. He rubs circle in his skin, and takes in everything that was, that is Neil. His husband. His junkie. His rabbit. His pipedream. His lover. His love.

Andrew doesn’t move from their bed. 

When he has finally spoken everything that he feels to Neil, from the safety of his mind, Andrew moves closer to him so their foreheads touch and noses align. He takes Neil’s lifeless hand again, and kisses it. He sets their hands back down, between the two of them, and looks at Neil one last time.

And slowly, Andrew Minyard closes his eyes, forever.

[arcanadreams]

OM Brothers as Hozier songs

I am a cottagecore lesbian, therefore this post was inevitable. Anyway here are the Hozier songs I think resonate most with the boys and their relationships to MC! Each will have a little explanation blurb (tho I am writing this before I start so I’ll probably get carried away asjdgkdj)

this is very different from my usual style so feedback would be greatly appreciated!! thanks :D

Lucifer -  As It Was

You are the home Lucifer comes to after losing his first one. He can never go back to the Celestial Realm, the place he was born and raised. But he doesn’t even want to when you are with him. 

You, and all that you are, are home. Being with you makes Lucifer feel a joy like he did before the otherness, the War, came. He never thought he could feel that way again. You are as bright as the lights of the Celestial Realm; a light he thought he would never see again. A light he thought he had dragged both himself and his entire family away from forever. But here you are, in front of him, shining with a light he had almost forgotten despite his best efforts to remember. 

And your love for him is unmoving. You know his past, you know his present, you know the worst sides of him. Hell, he tried to kill you before! And yet...your heart remains unmoved. He will never be able to express his gratitude for the way you waited for him, waited for his pride to subside, waited for him to realize the depth of his feelings for you. You welcomed him with open arms when he finally came home.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The drug, the dark, The light, the flame The highs hit the heights of my baby And its hold had the fight of my baby And the lights were as bright as my baby But your love was unmoved

Tell me if somehow Some of it remains How long you would wait for me How long I've been away The shape that I'm in now Your shape in the doorway Make your good love known to me Or just tell me about your day

Mammon - Sunlight

Your love is sunlight. Pure and simple. Your love is sunlight to Mammon, who has not known a soul like yours since the Celestial Realm. He loves his brothers, and he knows they love him, too, but their love feels conditional. Your love for him is unconditional, and you tell him so every day through the way you look at him.

He still doesn’t know how you put up with his waffling for so long. With the way he ran away from your affections, the way he put up walls between you to protect his aching heart. If your love was like his brothers’, if it required him to change...he didn’t think he ‘d be able to bear it. 

But you were stubborn. Almost as stubborn as him! And when you finally reached a stalemate you confessed. The moment “I love you,” left your lips, Mammon knew he was lost to you. He was lost in this foreign feeling and the only way out was in your arms. And from that moment he knew he would never leave your embrace, never leave your wonderful heart. 

He would sooner die before he let his sunlight be taken away.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Oh, the tale is the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight At last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight All that was shown to me, sunlight Was something foreknown to me, sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Sunlight

and

Each day you rise with me Know that I would gladly be The Icarus to your certainty Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight Strap the wing to me Death trap clad, happily With wax melted I'd meet the sea Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

Leviathan - Like Real People Do

Levi has never cared for the company of others who are real, who are not figments of some grand author’s imagination. All they do is hurt him. He has had too many heartbreaks in his life to let anyone else into his story. He is a lone side character.

But then you came bounding into his book and tore apart every page with self-loathing words written on it. He fought you tooth and nail, but you just kept digging, straight to his heart. You dug yourself in deep, so deep he couldn’t move you even if he wanted to. Which, of course, he can’t even imagine doing now.

You’re real. And so is the love you have given him. With each kiss you prove to him that he is not some side story. He is the protagonist of his own adventure. You are his love interest, written to fit perfectly against his side when snuggling on dark nights. 

It took your arrival for him to realize just how much he longed for the company of real people, for the affection of real people. And I don’t mean in the literal sense of real- I mean people who are real with him. People who are truthful, who won’t hurt him with stinging words, barbs aims right at his psyche. You use your words to guide him without crippling him, and he is so thankful for that.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

Satan - Shrike

Satan had no idea there was any goodness in him. No idea he was capable of anything with a shred of goodness in it. That was, until you came along and showed him just how long his stone heart had only been lying dormant. It was never useless, as he had suspected. It just needed a skilled stonesmith to chip away at it carefully, which is exactly what you did.

Even as he felt you cracking away at his walls, he would not tell you how he felt. He knew from the first tap of your gentle hand on the rough rock of his heart that he was yours. That he always would be. But he could not utter his love. How was he to know if you did this to everyone you met? Was he as special to you as you were to him? Or was he just another sculpted heart in your collection?

He couldn’t hold out for long, though. Not when you were housing him in your heart’s warmth with no mention of reciprocation required. What was your scheme? Why were you showing such goodness to him, and at the same time revealing he was capable of the same? 

But when you whispered words of love to him, it all fell apart. The last chip of stone covering his heart shattered, as did his resolve to hide his love from you. He knows that you two will always be together, even after this lifetime ends. Perhaps the two of you will return, him as a thorn and you as his shrike.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I had no idea on what ground I was founded All of that goodness is going with you now Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted All of my goodness is going with you now

and 

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn Remember me love when I'm reborn As the shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

Asmodeus - Nobody

Asmodeus, unlike his brothers, has known love. He has bathed in love, breathed in love, slept in love. He knows love. And yet, in all his years, he has known no love like your love. 

Your love is a wholly new phenomenon to Asmo. So pure, unfiltered, unconditional. Surprise picnic dates you spent all weekend planning, bouquets of flowers waiting for him on his bedspread, hugging him when you’re all sweaty after a jog because you know it bothers him. There is a fondness in your every action, even when you simply pick a nail polish shade for him to use for the week. It is an unfamiliar sensation for Asmo to feel such love through an accidental brush of the fingertips.

Because of this, Asmo never wants you or your relationship to change. Damn everything he has known before, damn the opinions of anyone he knows, damn what he knows of love! Your love is the only love he cares to know, now. Your love and everything that comes with it. 

Asmo has had many adventures and love affairs in his time, and yet you are the only one he never wants to end.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

And I think about you though everywhere I go And I've done everything and I've been everywhere, you know I've been fed gold By sweet fools in Abu Dhabi And I danced real slow With Rockettes on dodgy Molly But I've had no love like your love Ooh from nobody I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave But I want you to know that I've had no love like your love

Beelzebub - NFWMB

You are part of Beelzebub’s family. You have been ever since you slept beside him, holding his hand to keep his nightmares at bay. You are his family, and nothing fucks with his family.

Beelzebub’s family is his heart and soul. You are his heart and soul. He would do anything for you. Your little finger is stronger than any arsenal in the Devildom, because you have Beel wrapped around it. But part of the reason you have him in the first place is because he knows you would never use that to your advantage. You do not see Beel as a weapon, or a hungry beast, or a danger, nor even as an annoyance who empties the fridge every two days. No, you see him as Beel. And that’s all he can ask for. That’s all he wants.

Your affection for both him and his brothers is something he cherishes more than anything else. Nothing will harm you as long as he can help it. He has lost his family before, and he will not lose any ever again. The second your fingers interlocked with yours the night you slept at his side, he knew no harm would ever come to you from that moment on. 

Lucifer started a war for the ones he loved once long ago, and now Beelzebub knows that he would do the same.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing If I was born as a black thorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies Ain't it warming you, the world goin' up in flames? Ain't it the life where you you're lighting off the blaze? Ain't it a waste it watch the throwing of the shade?

Belphegor - Would That I

Ever since the death of Lilith, Belphegor feared the fires of love, the fires of feeling, of emotion. He stomped on the embers of his heart and vowed never to light them again. It was easier to feel nothing than it was to feel her loss.

And then you...you and your blinding light, arrived. He hated you at first. He killed you, tried to put out your fire the same way he put out his own. But even death couldn’t douse your flame. You were a wildfire, one that had already spread to all his brothers and rapidly came to set him ablaze too.

It didn’t take you long to light him up. He knew it wouldn’t, but he still tried to fight it at first. The first word you spoke to him in the attic told him that if he were to ever burn bright again, it would be by your hand.

And that’s exactly what you did. Even after he had killed you, you fought to ignite the long-dead pyre of his heart. Your persistence wore him down until his lazy nature decided it would be easier to give in and let you burn him. He expected pain, expected scars, but instead he simply felt warmth. Your warmth. All the years he spent in the cold without even realizing it were suddenly over. He was warm in your arms, and he never wanted to leave again.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet Like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat Settle soft and as pure as snow I fell in love with the fire long ago With each love I cut loose I was never the same Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Laying waste to my loving long ago But that's not tonight  Where I'm set alight  And I blink in sight  Of your blinding light  And it's not tonight  Where you hold me tight  And the fire bright  Oh, let it blaze, alright, honey 

[smallblip]

You asked, I deliver! Part II of Accidental baby acquisition💖 I lost one of the asks 😩 but anon who asked about baby Udo, I named the baby in your honour! Saddle up cowboys! I’m not good with sequels but here we are-

Babygate:

the scandal that implies that a certain boy band member cheated on his partner (another band member) and had a kid even when the mom was never pregnant.

- urban dictionary

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. Life is definitely picking up. Pieck still sends him excerpts of her dirty fanfiction to proofread, Bertholdt is still doing all he can to “retire at 30”, Annie might have eloped with said boyfriend. But he’s seeing Porco on the regular now, he’s really cute, he’s got a nice ass. Reiner can’t complain.

He’s also recently donated his Levi Ackerman standee. Only because it’s getting increasingly hard to reconcile the fact that he has a life sized cutout of his colleague’s boyfriend in his room.

What he can complain about is said colleague (and friend) dropping bombs on him. He’s one of the moderators of one of the bigger No Name servers. Sometimes he wonders if that’s a conflict of interest because, well, he knows the guy on a first name basis. But today he has other concerns. He sees his notifications blowing up and decides to go on the No Name server. And lo and behold. There’s a paparazzi shot of Levi and Hanji with a stroller taking a walk in a new channel called “MYSTERY FAMILY?”.

He cancels his plans with Porco. “Don’t text me for the next few hours, got a fire to fight.” He clicks send, and feels kinda bad, so he sends Porco really dank meme to appease him. (That doesn’t stop Porco from doing exactly what Reiner told him not to do and demanding an explanation every five minutes).

He forces himself to take a deep breath before texting Hanji-

“Hanji… I don’t mean to be rude but…

WHAT THE FUCK?”

—

So here begins babygate. A conspiracy theory that took the Internet by storm.

“Levi Ackerman had a secret marriage! He was keeping this from us from the start!”

“It’s a publicity stunt to keep No Name relevant during their hiatus!”

“It’s an elaborate scheme by the company to punish Levi for announcing the hiatus without their knowledge!”

“Levi’s mystery partner was sent by the lizard people to take control of his mind and produce half-lizard, half-human hybrid babies to take over the world! What a bitch!” (This is Hanji’s favourite).

And the internet’s favourite- this is all an elaborate scheme to cover up the scandalous love affair between Levi and Eren- the band’s guitarist.

“What the fuck?” Levi had said during dinner once, to which Reiner had to swallow his food and pretend he never read or actively looked up ereri content. Yes. Reiner knows the name of their ship.

Levi hadn’t been too worried before, but when pictures of them shopping for baby stuff leaked online, something snaps. Something snaps and Erwin tells him he needs more time to figure out the biggest PR crisis in No Name history.

It’s Levi. Levi is the PR crisis.

So in the meantime, no shock reveals, no more social media, (if possible) no more leaving the house with pregnant girlfriend in tow. “Don’t do ANYTHING.” Erwin had said, “especially not you!” Erwin had directed that at Eren, who suggested he makes an announcement. Erwin shudders. He remembers all the past scandals they got themselves into just because Eren, bless him, didn’t know when to shut up.

“I’m sorry…” Levi says to Hanji when they’re cuddled up on the couch watching a documentary on whale migration.

“Huh?” Hanji says, voice muffled through her incessant sniffling because “whales are delivered tail first, Levi! They wear their mothers like hats!”

He apologises for putting her through the mess that is him and his job. And Hanji smiles at him. He wonders if their kid will look like her. He’s hoping they would.

“Levi…” Hanji sighs, taking his face in her hands, “that night at the bar I thought to myself ‘this man has a face I would risk it all for’… I think this counts within the realms of ‘all’”

Levi scoffs, but a smile is threatening the corners of his lips. Erwin’s nagging over the phone fades a little and he sinks a little lower into the couch. He sighs one more time for good measure before saying-

“So… you wanna know which my favourite babygate theory is?”

—

“And you’re really not bothered by all this?” Reiner asks, in an emergency meeting that he had scheduled into her calendar. He hates that he’s packing things into her already busy schedule when she’s about to pop but, he figures it’s better now than when the baby’s actually out. He had booked a meeting room and everything, figuring if he projected some of the crazy shit they’re saying on the fan boards up on screen, Hanji would start taking this seriously. Because if Reiner knows anything, it’s that the fans will do anything to keep their ship afloat.

He scrolls past another post on the lizard people and Hanji gets him to pause.

“I mean… A little?” Hanji pinches her fingers together.

“Hanji…” Reiner sighs, “you and Levi discuss and rate babygate conspiracy theories you find online I don’t think you’re taking this seriously at all…”

Hanji looks at Reiner- an absolute state of panic. And she considers panicking for a moment. She’s read articles dissecting babygate and although they’re absolutely batshit, Hanji appreciates how well-researched they are. Which is a little scary. To be fair to Levi, he’s been trying to get her to worry. “I can’t keep you safe all the time, you have to be careful” like he’s going off to war somewhere. But it’s not in Hanji nature to worry about things like this. She’s a researcher at a lab who lived an ordinary life up until the point the universe hit her with a-

Sike! Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy! What are you gonna do about it?

And now she knows what headcanons and lemons are, and she really doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge. So Hanji decides, she’ll do nothing. She’ll go on indulgently long walks Levi in tow, she’ll talk his ear off about work. And like a good girlfriend, she’ll listen to his demos (and enjoy them) and tell him “are you sure anger rhymes with danger?”.

“I don’t really know how to worry about anything beyond our samples getting contaminated…” Hanji says, sheepish. Reiner sighs. He doesn’t want to be a wet blanket on Hanji’s life. He wants to be fun Reiner. Cool as a cucumber. Reiner who manages to make it through dinner at Hanji’s without having to excuse himself to hyperventilate in her bathroom because Levi is right there. And he’s so afraid that he might just be able to read his mind and find out he had looked up Levi Ackerman x y/n fanfiction once in his foolish youth (youth being approximately four months back)

Reiner shudders.

“Yeah okay… That’s um… That’s cool… Right?” He says.

Hanji shrugs.

—

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what?

You go into labour of course, with a matter of fact- “oh. Look Levi. The water broke.” All while refusing to leave the house until you demolish that amazing sandwich he made for you. You go into labour and you yell and grunt like a beast as you squeeze the life out of your baby daddy because he kinda deserves it. You both kinda deserve this pain. Take it as heavenly punishment for being horny and stupid if you will.

And in the middle of it Hanji thinks huh, this feels like a mix of a reality TV show from MTV and a badly written fanfiction. Except Hanji isn’t a teen mom and she’s too old for self-insert fiction that involves a lead singer of a popular band.

But Levi is here, and he doesn’t complain one bit even though he looks like he’s about to pass out. So as far as drunken one night stands go- this is pretty damn aspirational.

The baby enters the world with a huge cry.

“Kid’s got a huge set of lungs…” Levi says, but his own voice is quivering.

“Just like her dad…” Hanji smiles.

As he watches Hanji fall asleep with their baby on her chest, Levi thinks fuck it. Fuck keeping this under wraps. Fuck the fans and them enjoying how Eren gets on his nerves. Fuck Erwin and his “Levi. You’re giving me a headache. You are the cause of this headache.” Because the baby has Hanji’s nose and his eyes and he loves them more than anything in the world.

He snaps a picture of them and tags bigdaddyzoë-

“Welcome to the world, my love.”

—

Reiner can’t help the tears that well in his eyes after seeing the picture Hanji had sent him of the baby-

“He says hi to his favourite uncle!” Was the caption, and Reiner could only reply with a crying cat meme and an incoherent text that Hanji favourites.

He’s on the bus on the way to the hospital when his phone buzzes incessantly. It’s Porco.

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK.”

“LEVI ACKERMAN IS HANJI ZOË’S BABY DADDY?”

“HANJI ZOË MY PHD SUPERVISOR?”

“LEVI ACKERMAN OF NO NAME?”

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK?”

He sends a reply at the entrance of the hospital-

“Welcome to my world”

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. He’s one of the moderator of one of the bigger No Name servers, so he can block and remove people at his discretion. Some days he lets it get to his head. It makes him feel like a king. But today, he’s putting out fires.

Erwin decided their PR strategy was absolutely no strategy, because “they’re zooming in on the pixels Levi. Once they doubt the pixels, they won’t believe anything we’re saying”. With that. Babygate has officially taken on a life of its own. Eren still sends Levi babygate articles to annoy him, and to Hanji because she asked very nicely. Hanji thinks Erwin’s strategy makes sense, Levi thinks it’s just lazy. But Erwin framed a certificate that says “survived a PR crisis (sort of)” that Hanji had insisted be hung up on their wall, so that closes one chapter. Besides, Eren has been spotted going out on dates with a mystery girl. Which has the double effect of diverting attention away from Levi and exacerbating babygate because “see? Told you the company’s doing all they can to prove they’re not together!”

“Can’t you keep it in your pants?” Levi had thrown at Eren, to which he had responded cleverly with a-

“Could’ve said the same for you!”

Touché…

“See? That can’t be Levi! Look at how he’s smiling!”

“That can’t be a baby! Looks like an animatronic to me!”

“Do they even make animatronics that realistic?”

Reiner pins his “no slander” rule- one day they’ll get it. Or at least he would’ve gotten rid of all the people that don’t.

“Who’s this bigdaddyzoë anyway?”

“Maybe she isn’t real? Company probably invented her…”

“Heard she’s a crazy groupie who got knocked up…”

“Heard she’s hot…”

… several people are typing

—

“So… I heard from Reiner you were defending my honour in the server?” Hanji quirks an eyebrow.

Levi shrugs. Whatever goes down in the server stays between Leviackerman173810 (leviackerman and all 173809 permutations of said username had already been taken) and the hundreds of people who haven’t quite figured out he’s the real deal. Besides, Erwin has issued him three warnings so it’s best to lay low for now.

“My hero…” Hanji chuckles, pressing a kiss on Levi’s head. Below them, baby Udo wriggles and yawns against the fabric of Levi’s shirt. Cute.

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what? You look at your son and know he’s going to break hearts like his father of course. And if you’re Levi, you pray to god he never asks about babygate because Hanji has read up enough about it to be considered a connoisseur.

One day the internet will break when they find out the identity of bigdaddyzöe. But for now baby Udo has his parents wrapped around his tiny fingers and he doesn’t quite understand the concept of him being the spawn of every typical band member x y/n fanfiction. Or the centre of a very popular, very absurd, yet strangely believable internet conspiracy theory. Or the canon plot that has sunk one of the biggest No Name ships. And that’s okay.

[yoimix]

haikyuu!! as types of best friends.

➼ ft. hinata, sugawara, bokuto, osamu+atsumu.

➼ playlist. talk too much - coin, higher - banks, romanticism - mrs green apple, me and my friends - james vincent mcmorrow

➼ a/n. these have light bff2l undertones hhn i love that trope, pls forgive me. </3 + there’s some timeskip spoilers for atsumu & osamu’s part.

❀ hinata :-

i wish the childhood best friends trope a very good evening.

no one’s better than hinata at making friends, even if you met after he spiked a ball into your face. you’re childhood best friends too !! so imagine being a child and having to pick up this goofball by the scruff, who has the audacity to ask you to play with him after giving you a scratched up forehead and teary eyes from a ball to the face. but, like, you were the one who said yes so it’s on you :-)

sometimes you bicker but it’s ok bc he would literally go to the ends of the earth for you if you asked. no kidding. he hates sitting still anyway so he’ll just gravitate towards where you are like you’re the sun. also gets you taiyaki in the evenings but climbs in through your window instead of using the front door like a normal person. (he has too much energy </3) if you hear someone yelling your name outside your window and ranting about volleyball games, you know who it is.

ok when he makes you mad with his bullheadedness, you'll be complaining with kageyama (who agrees vehemently) and hinata gets pissy bc you get along a little too well when you're throwing insults about him. (he's not jealous, no, of course not.) but.. how long can you stay mad at this sunshine child anyway?? you'll be pretending you never got mad at all within a few hours and go back to joking around.

he gets distracted if you're watching a match sometimes (bokuto somehow got it into his head that he needs to show off in front of you) so you got banned from watching. he overcomes it later on so you can cheer him on in his jersey too <3

gives you ALL his attention when you talk or even complain about your life. he reacts a lot to whatever you have to say so you have to pretend there aren’t people behind you glaring at hinata for having the same decibel sound level as a jet engine.

you have matching keychains you bought at a local fair !!! (you got a pochacco one for hinata but it’s super worn out by now so he keeps it in his wallet instead.) 

he has not won a single multiplayer video game against you (*cough cough* mario kart *cough*) and you don’t even have to be good at it. if you call him a loser, he’ll lose even harder. gets unnecessarily mad at just dance and you have to calm him down.

... you’ve probably kissed bc the two of you (mostly him) were too eager for a first kiss and you got fed up with his pubescent ramblings and ended up kissing him. and then had an early mid-life crisis bc you guys are definitely just friends. (unless.. unless he doesn’t think that way.. surprise surprise 😳) also he's.. kind of bad for make out practice... it’s like kissing a month old puppy.. sorry :/. if you happen to make a lot of offhand comments and tease him about his kissing skills, he WILL turn tomato red and argue in gibberish. only do that in private bc the rest of the world thinks you’re sickeningly cute together >:(

overall, your best friend is a ball of sunshine (who occasionally pisses you off) and your #1 motivation to get out of bed. it's mostly bc he's somehow there to get you out of bed though you've repeatedly told him to not climb in through your window. at least the sun is smiling upon you every day <3

❀ sugawara :-

being best friends with him is such a secure relation !! 

he’s your soft place to fall but also would provide gentle (not so gentle) reminders for your wellbeing (STUDY!!! WATER!!!! BREAKFAST!!). doesn’t get mad when you say you skipped breakfast but gives you this look of disappointment which is 100x more effective. still gets a granola bar for you though. also he literally carries bandaids for u and he’s been doing that since second grade bc you fell off the swing ONCE. you know, just in case. if you’re an accident-prone hazard to society, you’re in luck. 

BEST HUGS especially if you had a rough day and want to sob into his shoulder. if u damage his $85 hoodie tho, he will make u do his laundry and also buy snacks for him. but like he is so soft (his skin is SUPER soft bc he actually follows a skincare routine now) and cuddly like a teddy bear, it's a small price to pay for salvation.

he will hype you up for anything you do !!!! new outfit? offers to be your personal photographer. scored an A+? will treat u to your fav ice-cream. new job? will tell everyone just how proud he is. 

ALWAYS shares the last bite with you and smiles to himself when you eat it so contented. also!!! hanging out at cafes and taking cute pictures is a must <3 even though you’re not dating, you’ll have photos together that make you look a real couple which ensue teasing from daichi and asahi and admiration/jealousy from noya and tanaka. also he gets weirdly protective of you around the team (i’m looking at the moron quartet) and you have to pull the “koushi you’re not my mom” card. it really strikes a chord with him when you say that out loud.

will egg your ex's house with you if you say the word. somehow gets more pissed than you at your ex (if they're a shitty one). it's kind of scary when he's mad too so.... good luck calming him down. he's also really good at sarcastic trash talk so if you happen to meet your ex on the street... send prayers for their self-esteem.

you don't really fight often but if you happen to disagree, he'll go about it in a pretty mature way and talk it out. if you pick a fight on purpose, he'll catch on to it and either tickle you (excessively) or flick your forehead as punishment for trying to rile him up. it’s impossible to prank him!!!!! it’s like he’s got a sixth sense or something so you might as well give up on anything of the sort. 

you said you want to get a dog (or cat) with him in the near future and he somehow equated that to having children. turned bright red and started saying it’s too soon to be thinking of that while you had daichi stop you from smacking some sense into your overly imaginative best friend. (i mean, you do need to live together if you want to raise a pet sooo)

his lockscreen is a picture of the two of you so a lot of people who try to hit on him take the hint quick. he says it’s unintentional but you know he can be terribly scheming at times. if you say something like “why don’t you date me for real, coward” he will malfunction and not be able to look you in the eye. (“don’t joke around, y/n” “what if i’m not” “it kind of feels illegal to date you” “what do you mean?!💢”)

anyway you are one lucky mf if you have sugawara koushi as your best friend even if there are both ups and downs (mostly ups). having someone care for you so blatantly certainly makes the question of romance arise but you’re content with the most loving best friend ever.

❀ bokuto :-

you guys are the “two best friends in a room, we might kiss” “yes we will” “what” type of best friends PLS

it doesn’t matter what stage of life you met him, it’ll feel like you’ve been best friends since the beginning of time.

it’s just so easy to make friends with this airhead and by god’s gift, you cannot physically get annoyed at this man. sometimes his friends will complain about him being forgetful or blunt but you’re just there like. yeah. that’s bokuto. love him for it. (you seem to have a lot of patience.)

he probably gets into trouble with authority unwittingly, so save your weekends to sweet talk his way out after accidentally implying the coach has a weak mindset. afterwards, you go get ice cream or something and hang out at the dog park to forget it happened. (the amount of second hand embarrassment bokuto has given you though... you need some hard drugs to forget all of it.) 

you probably make a lot of friends through him in high school/college but at the end of the day, it’s just you and him and sometimes akaashi making sure you guys are alive. if you guys are alone together on a friday night, you’ll still be having fun!! very often, it takes shape as karaoke :-) bokuto thinks he’s really great at rapping for some reason (he’s not) so cue you screaming the lyrics in an attempt to ruin your part of the song equally. also he always sets the key wrong??? although you sing the same songs each time?? sometimes he picks a song neither of you have ever heard and the both of you try to guess the melody. he’s terrible at it but at least he’s funny. there’s not a single song he hasn’t had a voice crack in.

if you go clubbing/partying with him, get prepared to be introduced as the friend of “the guy who did four keg stands in a row before proceeding to do a cartwheel unprompted and somehow not throw up”. is on first name basis with the bartenders/hosts and gets you free drinks. also gets hit on often but is oblivious unless they’re being very straightforward. if he’s not into them... you have to pull the s/o card and save his ass. oh also he barks at anyone that gets near your drink.

will always exaggerate when introducing you to new people. “y/n and i met when i saved them from drowning a terrible death.” “it was the children’s pool and you were the one that was screaming.” “and then y/n didn’t really thank me but it’s not like heroes need thanks to do the right thing.” “kou, i will push you into a pool right now, let’s see how well you swim.” (he learned swimming to impress you so joke’s on you.)

he likes to watch you do stuff at the end of the day, so if you see him go o_o at you doing homework, you can just put your earphones on and focus on your work. even if he’s making.. a strangely.. adorable expression. also LOVES to listen to you talk about your day when he’s tired, he says it helps him sleep better (so expect a lot of nighttime calls). moreover, if you say you had a bad dream, he’ll comfort you with his ridiculously confident tone of voice (unless the dream was about something bad happening to him, then he’ll freak out and you’ll have to comfort him instead </3)

ok one thing that’s annoying about him is that he probably leaves food crumbs over your stuff like laptop, bed sheet, etc. you clean it up but bokuto.. is a bit... distracted to notice the mess he’s making. it’s usually pretty difficult to get him to be more aware, but like your glare is enough to make him at least try to be careful from the next time. (either that or he’s become sensitive to your change in mood/emotions bc you know... you’re best friends after all.)

i’m not gonna lie, he probably catches feelings for you at some point. he wants to, like, keep it lowkey bc akaashi told him to take your feelings into consideration too but?? it’s so hard?? you’re literally so pretty?? everything you say is like music to him??? he reacts reflexively to all the firecracker feelings u give him. he probably says he likes you all the time but you dismiss it with “as a friend right :-)”. there’s no climbing up from that one, sorry bokuto.

to summarize, if a moody golden retriever was your human best friend.exe

❀ miya twins :-

they feel like a set. it would be strange to have one of the twins as a bff and not have the other one around whoops 🤷‍♀️ 

either you and osamu bully atsumu in your free time, or you and atsumu annoy osamu for fun (or both) <3. it’s always a good idea to team up with osamu and prank atsumu for fun btw. (put wasabi in his breakfast pancakes and you’ll get a very pissed off but weirdly cute tsumtsum. you can blame it on osamu if you don’t want to face his wrath.) your alternative is to embarrass osamu in front of strangers with atsumu, have fun with that. (second hand embarrassment also works.)

when you were younger, you pretended to not be able to distinguish the twins bc it would visibly rile atsumu up and then you’d go “ok you’re atsumu”... which would further rile him up. osamu got used to your shenanigans though it ticked him off the first time too LOL. call them the wrong name on purpose and they’ll start a riot; be careful when you’re playing with fire pls.

you guys played a lot of knight and prince/princess/royal when you were a kid and atsumu would always try to make osamu the evil dragon holding you captive. in the end, you were somehow the knight, osamu the prince to be rescued and atsumu the big, bad dragon. (it’s kind of funny in hindsight. your parents have photographs of the three of you fighting like no tomorrow.) also speaking of which, your parents are also friends and have bets on which twin you’ll marry (or if you will at all). it’s tearing your parents’ friendship apart.

these two have DEFINITELY fought over whose jersey number you’re going to wear to the games ( “oi, ‘samu, stop brainwashing my best friend into wearing your stupid double digit number” “you know i’m the best friend, ‘tsumu. they clearly like me better over yer ratty ass.” “what did ya say?!?!? if anything, you’re the one that looks like ratatouille.”) you wore kita's jersey number to games.

imagine sunday picnics with the boys !!! by that, i specifically mean osamu and his perfect bento boxes <3 sometimes the two of you will cook together before your outings while a sulking atsumu stands outside bc you didn’t let him. (let him in, you monsters.) he says he can cook too but the last time the twins’ bickering almost burnt the whole kitchen down. the picnics continue well into adulthood and you get to diss your boss to the twins who will always support your rants. (sometimes atsumu will tell you it’s your fault but you can smack him off. we only need supportive besties here 🙄)

if someone hurts u.... they’re going to need divine intervention to be safe... you have two well-built, physically adept best friends ready to beat the shit out of anyone who deliberately breaks ur heart. 

when the twins get into a physical fight...... oh boy. it kinda pisses you off that they’re spewing profanity at each other and you’re the one getting glares. but at the same time, you don’t really want to step into a fight that has nothing to do with you. people should solve their interpersonal issues on their own. they have never fought over you, this isn’t twilight <3 

but the question did come up once on which twin you like better; it’s not something to seriously fight over though. if you chose osamu, atsumu will complain for six days straight and you’ll start to regret ever answering the question. if you say atsumu, osamu won’t feed you his onigiri anymore for a few days which is just as bad. the safest choice is to say neither bc it will both be funny and you won’t suffer too many consequences. if you say you love the both of them for being your best friends all this time and go all mushy, there’s a slight chance they’ll go soft too. god help you from the bone crushing hug you’re about to receive 🙏

you make sure to not miss any of atsumu’s official games !! sometimes he’ll wave at you and make the reporters give you hell bc he’s a little shit. just push osamu to them and run away if it gets that bad. (he gets free advertising for his shop, he should be grateful.)

osamu is super good at cheering you up!!! whether it’s with food or with pleasant talk, you’ll be feeling much better with a full stomach and a calmer state of mind. as for atsumu, he’s really good at you cheering you up by distracting you. he’ll talk about his team or this new serve he learnt and the world will seem a lot brighter bc he seems so happy about it. whichever twin you go to, it’s win-win. 

in return, the twins take up a good chunk of your time. sometimes atsumu will crash at your place after a game though you’ve told him to not lead the damn reporters here. osamu makes you taste test his experimental onigiri... which are not always good..... no seriously, why’d he put honey and tuna in there ?? but still, your life is ridiculously colorful with them around.

anyway, what can i say except what’s better than one best friend?? two best friends !!!

[mxvladdy]

Forgotten Affections: Mammon

Here is Part Two of @marymaryroo 's request!

This one used more of my True forms ideas so if you want some more contexts here is Mammon's Link

Hope you like!

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Part Two of Three: Mammon

TW: Gore and slight body horror

His plans are not stupid. No matter what his brothers thought or said. He was always calculating, always thinking and scheming. Sometimes his plans were fast and spontaneous, some do get the better of him. But risks were always a part of the games he plays. The hazards are just as an addictive high as the rewards he strove for. Mammon knew his plans could go sideways, but he never cared. When he failed he just would try again. Variables changed on a dime and he knew how to handle that. Life moves fast but he always moves faster. Until he couldn’t.

The plan this time was foolproof. Everything had been in place, or so he thought. He ran a tight ship with his informants and an even tighter ship with his court. He anticipated everything. He just can never predict you.

You weren’t supposed to be here. Why were you here! You should have been at school!

Of course, the witches saw you as a threat. They thought he was trying to underhand them once again. They weren’t wrong obviously. But he would never put you in harm's way to get what he wanted. Seeing you here startles him, startles all of them. While the shock of your face showing up where it didn’t belong slows his reaction time, it increases the witches. Their spells move with blinding speed, out-pacing him by mere seconds as he tries to get to you. The spells hit you with a wet crunch, flinging you across the room. He watches in horror as your body flops like a marionette cut from it’s strings. He catches you scooping you up to his chest before hitting the concert hard. He skids along the cold warehouse floor hiss when his heat cracks hard on the metal of a stack of crates.

It hurt, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. He didn’t give a shit about the black blood trickling from his brow or the crack in his beloved glasses. He had one thing on his mind, you. You were still and loose in his arms. He saw no blood, but something wasn’t right. His pact is alight with pain, flaring and itching as he panics something wasn’t right with his master and his pact couldn’t locate it.

The next few moments in time freeze around him as he moves faster than he ever has in his life. The city and realm are brief flashes in his mind's eyes as he blinks, he just had to keep you safe. He takes you to the only place he knows you will be safe. It was the safest place in the kingdom for him, and it would be for you too.

The cave is cold. An eternal shadow coats every part of the large cavern, it had been a while since he had visited his hoard. His greatest treasure now sleeps in his bedroom and shines more brightly than even his most precious stones. Yet, now you were as cold as the jewels he once coveted. He doesn’t remember shedding his human skin but he doesn’t care using his many mismatched and uneven wigs to move you to his nest.

He tucks you into the silks and wool sheets lining his bed. Bending closer he nuzzles your arm. His many broken and scarred beaks picked up on the fetid odor of tainted magic seeping from your pores. He can’t place all the damage done to you but it is more than he knew what to do with. He was no practiced healer like Asmodeus or learned in medicine like Satan. No, he didn’t have that, but he was yours, and you were his to protect. So he does what he can through his pact, leeching some of the poison from your body into his. Getting comfortable beside you he shuffles you closer into the remaining soft down feathers on his belly. This close he can feel your frail heartbeat.

The hours move on and you still do not stir. He hates himself for this. How could he be so useless? You trust him, he was your first man he was supposed to be better than this. In this moment Mammon regrets every class he ever ditched and the class he slept through in the Celestial realms. He was never good with magic but perhaps if he had just paid attention he might have been able to help you better right now. Whatever toxins the combination of spells had embedded you rolled in his stomachs mixing with his guilt. He takes it all powering through so you could rest.

You stir sometime in the wee hours of the morning, of what day he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. His many eyes never leave you as you wake. “Mammon?” You slur, mind still groggy with sleep and the residual effects of whatever it was that hit you. He clicks his many beaks asynchronously in delight, the chatter of bone on bone is raucous.

Beside himself, he turns back to his human form in a dizzying blur of feathers and gold light. “Babe!” He snatches you up kissing every bit of your skin he can find. “I am so sorry. I fucked up-you weren’t supposed to be there. How in the hells did you find me?” He pulls back to make eye contact with you. Your eyes are wide with shock. “What’s the matter? Why are ya lookin’ at me like that?”

You looked confused, eyes darting around you as you clutch the furs and blankets closer to your bare chest. “Mammon. What...what’s going on? Where am I?” You glance down at yourself seeing how battered and bruised you were. You look at him, the confusion now replaced with unadulterated terror. “Mammon...what did you do?”

“Ti?” He shakes his head momentarily, losing his grip on your shared tongue. “Babe-I don’t understand.” He tries to touch you. You push away, scrambling back and tumbling from his nest. Mammon hears your heart rate pick up, hammering like a helpless beast when it knows it's cornered. But where was the threat? You were safe here, tucked away with him. He feels numb, disbelief locking his jaw and tightening his shoulders.

You couldn’t think he was the threat...right?

“C-come on,” He blinks back tears. “This ain’t funny. Don’t you remember me?” He reaches out for you beckoning for you to come back to his nest. There is an odd and sharp twinge in his pact and he hisses. You mark weights him down, locking him in place from coming any closer to your trembling form. You were stopping him from comforting you. You were scared of him.

“Mammon.” You shudder holding the blankets close and back away till your back hit the rough stone wall. “You’re scaring me.”

“An’ your scaring me! You promised not to play cruel jokes on me.” His head bobbles inhumanely, sapphire and gold eyes glowing in the low moon light.

He smells the sour tang of sweat blooming on your skin, his sense locking on the bob of your throat. He mimics the dry clicking of it as you try to swallow enough spit to speak. “When did I do that?” You croak. He rears his head back. The words strike him hard. You curl away from his screeching arms raised for a blow that he would never do.

“Date? You, us!” He barks, voice coming sharper and shriller in desperation. “Our late night drives? Us...movie nights alone at the theater. Just last night?” He implores searching your gaze for something. Anything!

You shake your head clutching your brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t...” His caw of rage rattles his chest. His many heads emerge again to echo his cries. He shakes them in disbelief. “Mammon! Listen to me, please! Just-just take us home-”

“No!” You flinch back, spit coating your upraised arms. “You are my human!” Mammon’s eyes flash in warning. If you didn’t remember him then the others could try to take you away from him. He would never let you go. Your scream of terror is swept up in a flurry of wings and plumage as he disappears back into the night.

He doesn’t return home to the House. He takes flight and heads east, the winds and forest coming alive with the sounds of his legion taking to the sky with him. Search. Find. He orders images of the coven and what they did to you flashes in his mind to his murder. Those mages did this, and they would fix this. He travels on the wind ignoring the searing pain of your mark. You are calling him to return, ordering him to. The pain only fuels his desire to hunt.

He will have to be fast, for your sake. While his cave had plenty of fresh water and food for you he knew you. You were that spark in the night, that shock to the system that kept him going. You help him keep his head up high. You would try to get down from his nest, or try the other brothers before long.

His council found the witches one by one, picking off the weaker members while leaving the elder witches to him. He barrels through the punishment of breaking a pacts to extract whatever he could from them before his talons find their throats. The kills got more and more savage as each hunt turns up nothing.

On the fifth day of his hunting, Lucifer finds him. His world turns into a blur of black mist and boney fingers as his brother throws him violently from the gurgling body of his last victim. Empty eye sockets bore into Mammon's dazed faces. “Where…” Lucifer opens his broken maw, jaw creaking as his voice gurgles out. Mammon ignores him screeching and clawing at the hand pinning him to the floor. The fingers begin to close slowly, choking off his air until he is forced to revert to his other form, dark chest gasping for air. “Wheerrree…” Black smoke fills his lungs, the cold radiating off of Lucifer’s exposed bone burns his skin.

Mammon hisses back, throwing caution to the wind and landing a quick kick to his brother’s deteriorating nasal bone. “Mine!” He groans, head filling with static. “They are mine...even if they don’t remember me.” The fingers around his throat loosen before pulling back. Mammon coughs holding his throat as he struggles to his knees. “You can’t have them.” He wipes his face, cleaning off blood and tears. Devil’s when did he start crying?

“Mammon.” Lucifer tries again, flowing closer. “No one wants to take them away. I want to make sure they are safe.” Safe? Of course they were safe! The Great Mammon was watching over them, there was nowhere safer. Right? But there was safety in numbers too, what was a murder of crows or a flock of night creatures if they did not stick together. Mammon pushes his palms hard into his eyes till light spots of color irrupted behind his eyelids.

Clarity and exhaustion caught up to him all at once. “I messed up. I messed up so bad, μέντορας.” He looks at the corpse of the last witch. They were the final witness to what had happened the night he got you hurt. His last chance to help you is gone, splattered across the pavement. “Λυπάμαι. Λυπάμαι, αδελφός.” The dam breaks, all the suffering, and confusion of the past week overwhelms him in that moment, robbing him of coherent thought.

Warm human hands grip his shoulders squeezing him tight to center him. “Calm yourself. Remember how I taught you?” he nods, grimy head bobbing through a hiccup. “Good-good. In through your nose and out your mouth. Yes, just like that. Again.” Once punishing hands now wrap around him surrounding him in a sea of black silk and soft hair. It is of little comfort to him now, but Mammon feels the invisible hands clutching his hearts loosen. Lucifer does too and brings his brother out of the crook of his neck to look him over. “I want to help both of you. But, I need to know what is going on.”

To say Lucifer was displeased was an understatement. He couldn’t fault Mammon for his outburst, while he could not say he would do the same he understood what fragile hearts his sibling has. Mammon would never intentionally harm you, but as he pleads his case Lucifer began to worry more and more for your well-being. Mammon wasn’t going back to check on you, that was very clear by the pattern of violence he had marked around the eastern prefecture. Mammon’s recklessness had the potential to get you hurt, and he could not have that.

“Take me to them.” Lucifer raises, helping Mammon up from his knees.

“Can’t.”

“Mammon.” His patience grows thin.

“I can’t,” Mammon repeats himself, firmer this time. The magic he placed on his nest was the last that he had. Having a demon as strong as his brother coming in would break the barrier beyond his repair. “I swear to you I will bring them back, now, back to the house. Just please...I can’t take you.”

Lucifer sighs but relents. Mammon doesn’t swear often if not at all. With care Lucifer takes the back of Mammon’s head and brings his forehead to touch his. “Promise?” Mammon coos softly showing his neck in submission. “Thank you, now go retrieve them. I will clean up this mess.”

Mammon returns to his nest to find you sleeping again. You were clothed and freshly bathed, bits of food nearby and used cutlery at your side. He doesn’t approach fearful of how you would react after last time. He kicks a pile of gold by the side of you instead. You react immediately, lurching up in bed. Something shiny glints in your hand and he laughs. The silver dagger gleams in his direction. “Mammon?” You blink in the low light squinting hard to make out his form. “Is that you?”

“Of course,” He steps closer, arms relaxed at his side. “No one else can come up here, you know. Or, I guess you did at one point.” You lower the knife but keep your eyes trained on him still hesitant.

“Are you ok?” Getting a better look at him you frown. He was a mess, disheveled and grungy. Dark viscous matter cling to his once vibrant white hair clumping it and sticking to the hard edges of his face. You didn’t want to know what it was, but you had your suspicions.

“Yes.” He said, tone clipped and stressed. “Come on, let’s get you back.” He holds out a grimy hand to you.

You look at it. “Are we really?” With how he left you you weren’t sure if this was a trap or not. For all his boisterous claims and vibrato you never thought he would actually go through with anything. Now you weren’t sure.

Mammon nods, waiting for you to make up your mind. You take his hand after a few minutes of contemplation. Your touch was so familiar yet foreign all at once. It was as warm and soft as he remembered it to be, but that was it. You were hesitant with your touch, fingers barely resting in his scabbed and scarred over palm. “What happened?” You turn his hand over seeing how the cuts and bruises continued.

“Nothing.” Nothing of worth any way. “Come, Lucifer is waiting for us.” That makes you pick up your pace and it chafes him.

When you both land in the outside garden of the house Mammon let’s you go. Rushing over to Lucifer’s side, you almost use him as a shield between the two of you. You grab at his brother’s pressed suit jacket asking a rapid fire slew of questions. Mammon relaxes only a fraction noting how Lucifer has yet to touch you out of respect for him.

Lucifer let’s you run out of steam before speaking. “I believe I know what has happened but let’s get you checked out first, and Mammon.” He looks over to his hunched brother. “Go wash up. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” Dismissed, Mammon slinks off to his room without a fight and empty handed.

With a clean bill of health, minus the apparent memory loss you sit in Diavolo’s office nursing a cup of tea. You look at your companions on either side of you. You, Solomon, and Lucifer sit on Dia’s large couch while the prince paces in front of you. The latter shaking with rage.

“I’m not mad.” You say again looking at the men around you. Mad wasn’t the right word for the feelings you have right now. You were angry at the situation and how Mammon handled it, yeah. But now you were more confused and fearful for his sake. Even if you didn’t recall the particulars of your relationship, what you did remember was a warm and friendly mix of emotions and companionship. He had always been a good friend and steadfast ally after the initial rocky start. Could you have been more? Something blooms in your chest.

“Irregardless,” Dia turns to you, face grim. “He put you in immediate danger and then abducted you. If Lucifer hadn’t tracked him down you still would be missing.” You nod your mouth closing on a rebuttal. He wasn’t wrong. “And,” He continues. “This matter now has more repercussions then just you and your lost memories I’m afraid.”

“That’s right.” Solomon butts in. “The covens are in an uproar. Seats have been usurped and the power imbalance now is reaching dangerous degrees. They want blood.”

Diavolo scoffs, cursing low in infernal. “Mammon needs to be reprimanded, Lucifer.”

Lucifer stiffens next to you. You hear the soft creaking of his leather gloves as he clenches his fists tight. “Is this not enough?” He leans forward imploringly. “Let me handle his punishment. You know I am fair with it.”

“He wiped out the entire East coven. This will take years for me to handle diplomatically. The council of Magi wants justice, and I cannot blame them. Mammon broke contracts and peace agreements.”

His words go over your head but the implications were very clear. “I’m so sorry.” You bow low in your seat. This was your fault. You should have taken a brother with you to retrieve Mammon that night. While trapped in Mammon’s treasure trove you had plenty of time to go over that night’s events and try to figure out why Mammon had said those things to you.

You remember that day clearly. Going to classes, turning in homework and rounding up the brother’s before they got into mischief. You run down that night the best you can too. You remember texting the group that you would bring Mammon home in time for the last meeting of the day, then the burning sensation of spells hitting you and bright flashes of light before waking up next to him in his nest. You remember him, but those nights he told you about and his feelings he shared with you were gone. Nothing there but black space.

Solomon’s hand on your shoulder breaks your musing. “This isn’t your fault. I’m sure we can settle this out over time.” The two demons in the room nod, faces unreadable. With that Solomon nods, getting to his feet. “I believe the time for humans in the room is over, shall I escort you home, or would you like to stay at Purgatory?”

“Home please.” The week's events land heavy on your shoulders. You wanted to sleep in your bed surrounded by familiar comforts. “I’m over this demon shit.” Solomon doesn’t even try to hide his snort.

“There is never a dull moment with you around, huh?” He chuckles, combing a hand through his hair once he gets to the front door. You shoot him an exasperated look. “Relax. I promise we will get this all set to rights...if that is what you wish.”

“I have a choice?”

Solomon raises a pale brow. “Yes. I do believe I can fix this with enough time and preparation. While Mammon had the right idea going to find the root of the problem and there for the spell, he did it all ass backwards. Once I get in contact with the spirits of those he murdered I believe I can get you back together again. You do want that don’t you?”

Did you?

The question perplexes you while you crawl into bed. Did you want something that you didn’t even know you had? The Mammon that had greeted you when you woke up was like nothing you could remember and had planted a seed of doubt within you. What about him had you fall for him in the first place? Would you remember all of this if Solomon was able to fix it? Could this break in your memory change how you felt for him? Ugh-why was magic always so difficult…

You are left to your own devices for a while allowed to stay in from work and school while you recover. The brothers dote over you in their own ways, all expertly navigating around any question you had about Mammon’s whereabouts. Only Beel gave you any useful information.

“He’s...working off his debt.” Cryptic, but at least you knew he was alive. With the brother’s all being tight lipped you took matters into your own hands. Your phone was gone, no doubt shattered on the floor of the warehouse when you fell. You should have had a new one by now, but Lucifer seemed to be hiding it from you like Mammon.

The door to Mammon’s room is sealed tight, no handle or seam to be found. The loud hum of magic radiates from the door making it impossible for you to open. Even his seat at the council was empty. So much secrecy, you were beginning to believe you were being punished as well.

Good thing you were too pig headed to care.

Cornering Lucifer wasn’t as hard as you expected it to be. He very well could have been waiting for you to jump him by this point. He looked tired and drained, his mark, like Mammon’s, was dark and silent on your skin. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yes. Though, as you can see, I’ve grown tired of it.” He waves at himself leaning on the wall just outside of the kitchens. “What do you want?”

“Why can’t I find anything?”

“Any what?”

“If I was dating Mammon wouldn’t there be, I don’t know evidence of it?” There was nothing in your room, and you couldn’t get into Mammon’s. The other’s had been of no help. It was gone, as if by magic. “Is this your doing?”

Lucifer pinches his brow with a grimace. “Yes, and no. Mammon asked me to.”

“What! Why?”

“He heard what Solomon said to you. That you are unsure if you want those memories back. This is your out.” A gift as Mammon likes to think of it, the last one Mammon can give you. Even if it kills him, his brother still thinks of your comforts.

“Don’t I get a choice?” Lucifer snorts eyeing you.

“It is one of the very few strategic advantages of being human. Have you made one?”

Yes? No? “Well, I would like to make an educated one! I can’t do that if I can’t even see Mammon now can I? I’m clear headed now.”

Lucifer chortles rummaging in his pocket. “Please, the fact that you picked Mammon as the object of your affection clearly shows me you have never thought clearly a day in your life.” He drops something in your hand before turning. “The magic of the door is gone. Just-please be gentle with him. The council has not been kind.” He gives you a final small smile. “You two were happy together, you know.” He leaves you with your new phone in an empty hallway.

You clutch the small device close to your chest, eyes riveted to the screen. Lucifer had backed everything up. Your contacts, calendar dates, assignments, and pictures. You click on your photo gallery. Oh, there were so many pictures of the two of you together. For a moment you hate the you grinning up through the screen. Mammon’s arms wrap around you, his face nestle in your hair as you glow under his attention. He looked serene, eyes closed with a blissful smile peeking out through your locks. The next few photos were very much the same, little dates and windows into a life you wanted to remember. The next few you took were candid photos. Him asleep on his couch stretched out and snoring or in the kitchen trying to do something, and failing.

It was so different from the Mammon you remember and the one you saw so briefly in the cave. Deep down your heart hurts for him, out of sympathy or the echoes of your lost love you weren’t sure, but you wanted that life from the pictures again. You reach his door with a new reinvigorated fire in your belly. You could do this. Mammon would never fall for someone indecisive.

The door opens as quiet as a whisper into a dark room. Stepping in you hold your breath, ears hyper aware of just how dark this place was. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this place without lights on. Mammon didn’t like the dark all that much. The room was quiet too, except for an eerie wet gurgle. “Mammon?”

“Leave.” Deeper into the room a massive black shape moves. “Shouldn’t be here.” You turn to the shape, arms outstretched to guide you through the pitch. “Don’t-” Several large luminous gold eyes lock with you. They are weary and apprehensive. You push forward till your hands touch some feathers and…

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s fine.” Like hell it was. Ignoring his protest and the slick feel of his blood on your hands you grab for your phone.

“Oh Mammon.” Your stomach twists. In the bright little of your little flashlight you can see only a small bit of his side, but it was shiny with fresh blood, feathers broken and limp from where hands had yanked at them. “Who?”

“The Rite of Equivalency.” A head turns to follow your fingers. He hisses, the feel of your fingers stroking along a raw gash under his upper set of wings burns. “Pound for pound of flesh for that which I took.” His beaks click, sore and irritated, they had not been gentle with their gathering today. His body was worth a lot to witches. His feathers and beak shavings were valuable in potions and on the market. It was the most lenient punishment Lucifer could broker, even if it did literally cost him a limb or two. Your hand goes still on his side, he can feel your small fingers trembling on his hind leg.

“Mammon-this is monstrous.”

The crow chortles swiveling his heads to look at you. “Are we not monsters?” He tries to joke, uncomfortable with your gentle touch now. “Hey- no...please don’t cry.” He sees tears clinging to your eyelashes, your lower lip quivering. He opens a wing to try to wrap it around you but stops gasping in pain. His side was like a live wire, healing bones burning under his thin skin while they mended. He is so tired.

You pick up on his discomfort and move away wiping at your tears. This wasn’t about you right now. “I came to talk about...us and what you overheard between Solomon and I,” His heart rate picks up.

“Lucifer put you up to this.” It wasn’t a question but a simple statement of fact. He had hoped-

You shook your head, brushing his side. “He gave me the option by opening the door, but I wanted to do this. To see you again and talk.” Talk, and get his side of the story, to fill in the pieces of the puzzle until you could get them back yourself. You pull up a few pictures and turn the screen to him. “I want to go back to this. I think I liked being yours.”

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

George Weasley x Reader- How Can You Tell?!

Gif not mine :)

Dating one of the biggest pranksters in Wizarding History didn’t mean you were any less likely to be the butt of their jokes- that was something you found out within the first few months of dating George Weasley. You didn’t mind it, if anything you loved that George carried on messing around like that with you rather than being too scared to do it once you got together, but both himself and his brother had been working out their “biggest prank yet” on you. Little did they know their little stunt wouldn’t actually work at all on you.

It started this morning. You had a few days left sleeping at the Burrow before Hogwarts started back up after Christmas break and you’d spent most of the mornings laying in bed with George- simply cuddling, talking or uh.. other things- but this morning he ran out of the bedroom almost the second his eyes opened. You sat up confused and just started fixing your hair, wondering what on Earth your boyfriend was up to this time. Minutes later, Fred came bolting in the room wearing George’s pyjamas and holding out a tray towards you, leaving you even more confused.

“Mornin’ darling. Fancy some toast?” He asked as he hopped in the bed under the covers next to you. You stared at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Fred.. not that I don’t love you or anything but why are you here? And in George’s clothes?” You asked, slowly taking a bite of toast.

“What are you talking about? Hit your head on the headboard too hard last night did you? I’ll take it easier next time, promise.” He winked, shuffling closer to you.

“So you’re not Fred? This person sitting right in front of me isn’t Fred? It’s George?” You spoke, catching on to their little trick.

“We’ve been together almost a year and you still can’t tell the difference between us? I’m heartbroken, honestly.” He placed his hand on his chest and shuffled back away from you.

“Sorry Georgie, I was just so sure you were Fred.” You played along. “But if you truly are my wonderful boyfriend you’d be more than happy to kiss me right?” You said, watching as panic went through his eyes before he spoke.

“That can definitely be arranged.”

“Too far Freddie. Get your slimy lips away from her you perv.” George exclaimed walking in the room.

“We almost had her then you twerp.” Fred argued back, getting out of the bed and heading towards the door.

“You honestly didn’t Fred. Not even close.” You laughed, pulling your actual boyfriend back into bed.

“Might have worked if you didn’t improvise Fred. Where did that headboard crap come from anyway?” George questioned, taking a bite out of your other slice of toast.

“Come up with it? George we can all bloody hear it. I’m counting down the days til Hogwarts to finally get some sodding sleep.” Your cheeks burnt at the idea of the rest of the Burrow listening in to yours and George’s rendezvous and George choked back on his toast. “We’ll definitely get you at some point Y/N, even if it kills us.” Were Fred’s last words as he left the two of you alone again in the bedroom.

“How did you know it was Fred?” George asked, finishing off the other slice of toast as you offered it to him.

“George I fell in love with you, not your brother so it’s obvious to me.. besides, you’d never promise to take it easier on me next time.” It was your turn to wink now as you got up and changed. “Meet you downstairs. At least I hope it’s going to be you.” You grinned, turning to shut the door. Fred walked back in moments later to talk with his brother.

“We’re going to have to up the antics Freddie.”

“That we are brother. Christ, she can tell us apart better than our own mother.”

The last few days of the holidays went fast as you soon found yourself back on your way to King’s Cross Station. As usual, you’d finished packing your bags a lot sooner than the boys and was waiting outside for them. You had to quickly hide the smirk that appeared on your face as you noticed them come out with each other’s baggage, even going to the extent to swap over their F and G Jumpers. You thought you’d give them their fun a little longer this time and played along. As the Christmas holidays were shorter you’d all left the majority of your belongings in your dorms, leaving only a small bag of clothes for you each to carry in. Soon enough, Fred walked up to you to play out the normal routine you had with George.

“Ready?” Fred kissed the corner of your mouth and offered his spare arm out to you. They were getting better, you’d give them that. You may have almost believed them if George’s eyes didn’t glare at Fred after the kiss- they’d clearly arranged a cheek kiss, you thought. Typical Fred and his devotion to the game.

“Ready.” You beamed, wrapping your arm around Fred’s and setting off on the journey to King’s Cross. It didn’t take you long but holding your best friend’s hand rather than your boyfriend’s made it seem a little longer.

The boys didn’t let off once you got on the train either but you wanted to talk to the real George, at least until they next thought up a new way to trick you. You all sat in the carriage and you turned to the twin who had started to make himself comfortable wrapping his arm around your shoulders and discussing the pranks they had lined up for the next few weeks, about to end their little game once again.

“Whilst I am quite comfortable and thoroughly enjoyed the kindness you showed to me holding my arm on the journey here, is it possible I could go and sit with my boyfriend now?” You asked casually, watching as Fred’s face dropped and he took his arm away from behind you. You jumped up and moved next to George, kissing the frown that had formed on his face and laying your head on his shoulder.

“Bugger. What gave it away this time?” Fred asked, pouting childishly and crossing his arms. He couldn’t keep the straight face for long before laughing. “Literally nobody can tell us apart. That’s our thing.”

“I’ve been able to tell you apart from the start. Plus George is more attractive, sorry.” You teased.

“Y/N we literally have the same face.” Fred answered.

“No no Freddie, you heard the lovely lady. I’m more attractive.” George grinned, kissing the top of your head. “It’s because you left the womb too soon, underdeveloped you see. Those few extra minutes really did wonders on my complexion.”

You laughed and watched on as the two boys bickered the rest of the journey to the castle. Maybe they’d give it one more shot before they realised how obvious it was to you..

A few weeks had passed at Hogwarts, the regular schedule almost making you forget about the boys’ little scheme to make you confuse the pair despite your assurance it would never happen. As a (Your House) Prefect, it was your duty to take watch tonight to make sure there were no students out of bed after curfew. The last thing you expected on your walk tonight was a pair of arms dragging you into an empty storage cupboard with their hand on your mouth. It was pitch black and you went to scream but the hand muffled it.

“Shhhh darling, it’s me. You always say you want a bit more spontaneity in our relationship so here I am, being spontaneous.” Here it was, attempt three; that wasn’t George’s voice. Suddenly one of his hands were on your waist and the other on your cheek, his face came close and you felt his breath on your cheek. “So. You, me, this dark storage cupboard, the thought of getting caught.. sounds fun, don’t you think?”

You leaned up and moved to his ear, your lips ghosting his skin before you spoke. “Sounds very fun, but I have to admit I’d rather do it with my boyfriend.” Suddenly his hands came off your body completely and he opened the cupboard again for you both to step out.

“Good news Georgie, she’s definitely in love with you.” He called out and you watched as your boyfriend rounded the corner. “It’s pitch bloody black in there and she knew it was me.”

“Of course I’m in love with him, why wouldn’t I be?” You laughed a little and walked towards George.

“Well George over here was getting panicky that you didn’t know the difference between us and might pull your moves on this walking piece of sex without realising.” He referred to himself by dramatically pointing up and down his body. “Honestly I didn’t think you could do it, I’m impressed. Our own mum struggles.” He walked past and clapped George on the shoulder. “Well done brother, got yourself a special one. Now let’s get back before Y/N takes points away from Gryffindor.” He finished.

“I’ll catch up in a minute.” George answered, turning his attention towards you. “Sorry, I don’t know what Fred subjected you to in there.” He scratched the back of his neck clearly embarrassed over how far him and his brother had gone for this.

“It’s fine. You know you could have just spoken to me about it, I could quite happily sit there and tell you all the reasons I love you and could never confuse you with Fred.” You offered, smiling. He smiled back, relieved that you weren’t angry.

“An ego stroke never hurt every now and then.” He joked before turning back round to see his brother. “Anyway, better get back, I’ll see you tomorrow?” You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss before moving to whisper in his ear.

“I’m on duty tomorrow night too.. the cupboard definitely was your idea and I’m more than happy to oblige if you meet me here again. But just you this time.” You spoke. A grin broke out on his face and he laughed.

“Wow and you’re a respectable person in this school? A prefect telling me to break curfew for some fonduing? Outrageous behaviour...” He teased. “But you’re lucky I’m just as outrageous. You’re on.” And with that he pecked your lips and left.

You never knew how you ended up lucky enough to get George Weasley to be yours but you hoped to any God out there that it would never have to end.

Bonus Ending that doesn’t technically fit the time sequence but felt necessary....

“Oh and boys?!” You called out to them just before they disappeared into the corridor. They both turned on their heels to look at you. “Whilst, as I’ve said, I can point out so many differences between the two of you the pair of you have forgotten a big difference between you.” You began, watching as they looked at you in confusion. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, you won’t believe me when you EAR it.” You finished, walking back in the other direction laughing to yourself.

“George you bloody idiot you only have one bloody ear.”

“I’m the idiot? You look at me more than I look at me.”

“How do you forget losing a sodding ear?!”

“The trauma Freddie. I blocked it away.”

“You’re gonna have some more trauma to block away when I finish with you.” And with that their childish fighting continued until McGonagall heard the commotion and sent them back to their dorms.

(Let me know if you want a part two in the cupboard 😉)

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

Okay, but ‘Erase Me’ hits different after the newest episode (lyrics in bold, discussion/analysis in normal text)

What was our home

“Home” it’s an odd word for the sides. Especially with the recent episodes. With tension flowing between all of them with ease, it’s hard to question if they can truly find comfort in on another. Easily represented by none of the sides (other than Logan and Remus) being there throughout Thomas’ day. This isn’t like the other episodes where they’re all having a discussion together about Thomas getting overwhelmed. 

Instead, Thomas feels isolated for most of it, fighting a battle with his mind (mind referring to his intrusive thoughts, his sides, and Logan’s agenda for the day)

Paper not stone

Everything seemed to... change so quickly. They went from Embarrassing Phases with cute Halloween costumes and friendly jokes about cringe and vine directly into SvS and DWIT where Thomas questions if he’s a good person while his mental health quickly declines.

In a similar way, paper is fragile and flimsy, easily ripped apart.

‘Paper not stone’ could also be a way to reference Logan’s agenda for the day. All of it can be discarded and saved for Future Thomas™ since none of it is really set in stone.

A lean-to at most

Logan is nothing to Thomas- or at least he feels that way. He’s only someone who can calm Thomas down. Thomas can ‘lean’ on him, but that’s the most he is.

And when you pulled your half away

I’d like to think half has a few different meanings here. The one I like the most is where “half” represents Thomas’ attention. He’s pulled to Nico, he’s pulled to Remus, he’s pulled to anxiety. 

Logan recognizes this and calms him down. He lets him have breaks and gently guides Thomas back to their schedule once he’s a bit better.

Half could also represent for when he pulls away from Logan and listens to the other sides more. In this episode, he practically listens to everyone but Logan, despite him being the most physically there. He’s listening to his spiraling intrusive thoughts (Virgil’s fear and Remus’ role). He’s listening to his worry about Nico’s feelings for him (Virgil’s fear and Roman’s passion). He’s taking breaks and indulging in what he loves (Janus’ role and Patton’s enjoyment in child-like activities such as disney princess puzzles and dancing to up-beat music)

He might be the side the camera follows around, but he certainly isn’t the main character by far.

Gravity won Like it always does

Logan isn’t winning this battle. Of course he isn’t. He never does. Thomas is pulled down by the figurative gravity of all the other sides, while Logan is left there alone. 

In theory, he grounds Thomas the most, but Thomas also naturally drifts away from him. Using his role as logic for quick comfort before listening to someone else for an actual discussion.

Did I weigh a ton?

Is he weighing Thomas down? Is he making him unhappy? He thought he was good at one point, helping Thomas earn a degree in college and organizing a schedule for him so he could live life comfortably.

Yet the degree is tilted on the wall. The schedule would have been torn up if Thomas was given a paper. 

Would it be easier to just delete Our pages and the plans we made?

Would it be easier for Logan to give up? He certainly isn’t needed, Thomas didn’t listen to Logan the whole day and he was still fine. He made pages of things Thomas needed to do along with the plans that Thomas agreed to. Only for them to be pushed to the side since something grabbed his attention. 

And perhaps Logan saves these plans. He keeps them to help Thomas. Maybe to even create more realistic ones. But perhaps Thomas just won’t listen to him. He should just delete the plans he has. Thomas has always been great at improv. Maybe someone like Roman should take control- he’s been listening to him more than Logan anyway. (Represented through the whole Nico situation)

Erase me So you don't have to face me

Thomas turns away from Logan at the end, leaving him alone in the living room. He’s erasing Logan from his mind, finding an opportunity he wants because he doesn’t need Logan. 

Put me in the ground and mow the daisies

Was mowing the lawn on the list of things Thomas needed to do? Nope. Is Thomas mowing over his ideas for something more exciting anyway? Yep.

Ah, the memory, see how it goes When you

Erase me Erase me

“The memory” is Logan. It represents how he was aware of his own outburst at Remus, he knows he lost control. But maybe he’ll also ‘see how it goes’ when Thomas starts ignoring him even more. Perhaps his eyes will stay orange. Perhaps Orange will just take his place entirely. 

So what will you do With no me for you?

Thomas needs him- right? I mean, there’s no one else to create the schedules and plans... that Thomas doesn’t use. He helped earn Thomas’ degree! The... the degree he doesn’t use. 

Maybe Logan is useless. Maybe Thomas can’t function without him. Logan doesn’t even want to know at this point.

I know what we said

Logan knows he technically agreed to Thomas leaving and going to Nico, but he can’t help but feel bitter about it.

This bitterness rises when he’s with the other sides. Roman disregards him, “You’ll be fine, Rome didn’t fall in a day.” Logan hasn’t been ignored for more than one day. He isn’t fine. He’s more than what he’s acknowledged as, he quickly responds with emotion filling his mind, “Well, that’s a misquote so-”

Only to get fucking cut off. Again. He isn’t fine. He’s getting ignored and cut off whenever he tries to input something. Then Patton takes control of the conversation. Directing it at Thomas instead of Logan. Taking Roman’s side. Not listening to logic.

But what if I left a thing or two

Logan just needs to stop. He needs to stop talking, leave a plan or two in Thomas’ mind while a side or two keeps him busy for the day. 

We know that you don't seem To think about what you need 'Til you reach to find that you've

Erased me

Imagine telling someone that you really want to do something with them. You both clear out the whole day at an agreed time. Then they want to do something else. You- you suppose it’s fine? You both go there and then you get side-tracked again, and again, and- the day is over. 

They don’t care about what they were supposed to do. Thomas didn’t care about what he was supposed to do. Most of the things he was supposed to do didn’t even directly benefit Logan. They were things he needed to function, things to keep his place nice, not reading a non-fiction book or watching a documentary. They were things Thomas needed. But apparently that wasn’t a good enough reason to listen to logic. 

What the fuck is this? You're crazy, turned around  

Logan is fed up with how Thomas keeps ignoring him. Keeps getting distracted. “Turned around” turned around from the task at hand. 

“What the fuck is this?” could be to Remus. Constantly bothering Thomas, getting him distracted over and over. Going the complete opposite direction of where they should be going. And not listening to him when talked to about it. 

In two weeks time replaced me

Thomas doesn’t need Logan. It’s clear from his daily routine. All he needs is someone to offer the idea of dancing or a puzzle to him and he’s fine again. 

Ah, the memory everybody knows How it goes you just

Erase me

Logan is well-known throughout the mindscape. He’s known as a nerd, a geek, a nobody. Most of the names he could wear with pride, but he’s nobody. Nobody to Thomas and nobody in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps the other sides would be fine with Logan getting “erased.” They seem to regard his name with distaste anyway.

Did me like a bro and tazed me

Logan makes little flashcards for slang and tries to use them. Almost like a child proudly showing a high test score to their parent. He wants so badly to be acknowledged, to be heard, to be cool. 

Fireworks - poof - it's gone, amazing

Thomas is gone. The fireworks went off in his heart and he’s gone. Logan- Logan should be happy for him. It’s amazing as some would call it. He holds the to-do list to his chest as he sinks out. 

New bio, you've gone solo Drawing mustaches on our wedding photo

Nothing is important, not really. It can all be quickly discarded. “New bio” could be talking to Nico and changing a social media bio to dating or something like that.

“You’ve gone solo.” Haha that’s funny. Thomas is practically anything but solo with Logan. The line is said with such anger and bitterness that it’s no wonder why he thinks he means nothing to Thomas.

“Drawing mustaches on our wedding photo” What else is Remus going to ruin for Logan? Drawing on Thomas’ degree with mustaches?

Erase me Erase me Erase me...

Erase me This is us shouting, baby Erase me

Logan is begging, screaming, shouting for someone to acknowledge that he’s being ignored. But he’s being ignored, so they don’t hear him. Of course they don’t hear him.

Do we call the cops now, baby?

Cops is Orange. Take this as you will.

Ah, the memory everybody knows About the brand new home

There’s no distress in this line. Everyone is fine about the idea of Logan leaving to go into a new ‘home.’ He wasn’t important, so why would they worry? Thomas clearly didn’t seem to worry as he ran out of the house, searching for Nico. Thomas didn’t need him in the slightest.

Erase me And you'll never have to face me

Erase something off the to-do list. Erase the signature on the degree. Erase him.

Erase me Option-Command-Escape me And if you feel nothing Guess what I'll wanna be

Huh, I wonder what he wants to be :)

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 3.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 29th July 2021

Word count: 4 219

Warnings: none

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 2.)

Chap. 3.

The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.

You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.

You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.

But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.

Baekhyun must have thought similarly.

You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.

You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.

“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.

“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.

“You want to drink something before we go?”

You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.

“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”

“You can tell I need it?”

“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”

His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.

He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.

“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.

“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.

“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.

“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”

“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.

“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”

And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.

“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”

You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.

“I don’t think there’s anything important.”

“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.

“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly.

“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.

“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”

“I-I know.”

“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”

“Oh.”

“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.

His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.

You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.

The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.

It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.

Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.

“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.

“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.

“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.

“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”

“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”

He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.

“Hungry?”

“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.

Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.

“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).

You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.

“You worked today?” you asked.

“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”

Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.

“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”

That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.

“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.

“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.

“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.

“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.

“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”

You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.

“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”

The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.

“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.

“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”

“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.

“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”

“…I may,” you answered carefully.

“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”

“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.

Baekhyun was silent for a moment.

“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”

“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.

“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.

“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.

“You have anything on your mind?”

“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.

“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”

“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.

“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”

The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.

“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.

Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.

“Well then, shall we start?”

* * *

You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.

Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.

Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?

Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.

Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.

“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”

You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.

“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.

You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.

“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”

The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.

“Is it necessary…?”

“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”

“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.

“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”

You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.

Apparently, not well enough.

The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.

Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.

“Spread.”

You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.

“You’re slouching again.”

“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.

You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.

You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.

“You want to be a pet?”

He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.

“Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.

But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!

Next (Chapter 4.)

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.9)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Smoking, Oral

“Nigga you wanna give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t blow the bitch head off as soon as she step in my shit.” Durk stated calmly as he blew out the smoke of his blunt before knocking the ashes off of it.

Erik shook his head. “Cause nigga it’ll be too hot for you after you do that shit. We don’t know if she told someone she was coming here or not. So take your finger off the trigger and relax.” Digging his hands in his pockets Erik leaned on the desk looking at the office door.

Durk was on edge since he got the call from Alexis two days ago. Erik wasted no time coming down at the auto to meet him. When he made it inside he seen Durk laying on his leather couch relaxed. That’s when Erik knew he was heated for real. Whenever Durk got angry he would be silent before ticking like a time bomb.

So he didn’t take Alexis threat too kindly after making him aware of what she knew. He was even ready to send one of his shooters to her place but Erik had to stop him especially after he got a text from her saying that she wanted to have a meeting with just the two of them. It was hard to get Durk to agree to it but after talking some sense into him he finally gave in to see what she had to say.

Checking his watch it was going on five thirty in the evening. She was supposed to be here by now but Erik knew her to always be late. Out of his peripheral vision he seen Durk getting out of his chair to stand beside him.

“No disrespect but ya bitch is running late and I’m getting impatient.” He stated while readjusting his Rolex.

“I told you that’s not my bitch. She’ll be here.” Erik spoke quietly annoyed with the fact he kept associating them together.

As if on cue the door open revealing Moe,one of Durks lookout guys, and Alexis dressed down in a beige and black Balenciaga sweater dress along with the black trainers. Her hair now back to her natural brown curls with a side part that fell along her shoulders. It was Erik’s favorite look on her and she knew it. Erik started to check her out but averted his gaze when he noticed it.

Walking over to a chair she sat down.“Hello gentlemen. How are you guys-“

“Stop the bullshit and give me a good explanation why I shouldn’t out yo ass after calling me making threats you can’t keep.” Durk cut her off ready to get to the chase.

She laughed taking off the shades she had covering her eyes. “Well one I told a friend, who is by the way a part of law enforcement, that I would be here and that if she doesn’t hear from me within the next 24 hours...come here. Is that good enough for you?” She mocked his tone.

“Alexis why the fuck are you here?” Erik decided to step in before she made the tension in the room any worst than what it already was.

“I’m here because I have a proposition for you. I changed my mind about the $15,000. You can keep it. Because like the saying goes money makes more money.”

“Yeah well I got another quote for you, you can’t take it with you when you die so are you gonna keep wasting my time with ya bullshit ass TedTalk or you gon say what the fuck you got to say.” Durk folded his hands growing impatient.

Erik’s eyebrows knitted together trying to figure out why she was here. Alexis didn’t come to collect the $15,000 she supposedly was going to black mail him for, she came for something else. She wanted to do business..

“Let’s work together. Start us a team.”

Erik chuckled realizing that he was spot on. He knew her too well and knew that she would take on an opportunity like this to make it good for herself. Alexis was money hungry and was will to do whatever it took to get to it.

Durk laughed looking back and forth between Erik and Alexis. He walked over to where she was and pulled up a chair sitting directly in front of her.

“Now you wanna tell me why I would work with a scheming ass person like you? Please inform me.” Resting his hand on his chin, Durk was taking her for a joke.

Alexis rolled her eyes scooting her chair back.

“Because the nigga that you robbed the other night ain’t lose out on shit. You think that million dollars that you stole from him did anything? Nah, you didn’t even take a small portion compared to what he has hiding out in Upsate.”

Now she had both Durk’s and Erik’s attention. Durks because he wanted to know how much more money that Shawn had that he didn’t know about and Erik’s because he wanted to know where she was going with this.

“Why you think he was so quick to give it up without a fight? He got plenty more where that came from and I know where it is. But I want a fraction of whatever you’re able to take. I’ll help you if you could help me.” Crossing her legs Alexis let the information she gave to them sink in.

Durk looked back at Erik searching for any sign to see if she was telling the truth or not but Erik couldn’t tell himself. So he questioned her.

“How we know this isn’t a set up? How do you even know where his stash is? I mean didn’t you just meet this nigga.” He bombarded her trying to see what she knew.

“No it’s not a set up and no I didn’t just meet him. I’ve actually known him for quite a while.” She stated while inspecting her nails.

Erik took in everything she said. He began to wonder about how did she know all of this information and in such little time. He was with Alexis for at least nine months so that only meant that she had to been messing around on him with Shawn.

“So you must’ve have been fucking him after you met me then huh? How do you know so much Alexis.” Erik questioned hoping to catch her off guard not taking his gaze off her.

She turned her direction towards him. “No Erik I’ve actually been fucking him before you and I know all of this because he’s my ex-fiancé. We’re sometimes on and off.”

Silence filled the room for a full minute before Durk began to laugh. He got up from his seat and went to his desk. Taking a fresh blunt he sparked it up doing a long pull.

“I don’t know what’s more fucked up. You fucking around on your fiancé and made my mans here the side nigga or the fact that you want to rob the nigga for everything he got. You one grimy bitch shorty.” He blew smoke in her direction.

Erik stayed quiet.

Getting up Alexis stood in front of Durk. She took the blunt out of his hands before hitting it once herself.

“Listen I don’t give two fucks about him. I wanted out anyway. Now do you think this is something we can work out or should I take my offer somewhere else?”

“Hell nah we not accepting that shit.” Erik retorted with his anger coming out after hearing that she was sleeping around on him. If there was anything that he couldn’t stand the most in this world it was disloyalty.

“Hold on, wait a minute.”

Glancing over Erik seen Durk in deep thought meaning he was taking what she said into consideration. He shook his head with disbelief. Durk was no different than Alexis when it came to getting a bag. It was the power and money that controlled him and he would do anything to remain on top. Even if it meant being friends with the enemy of his enemy and right now Alexis was definitely fitting the description.

“How much does he have?”

She lifted her shoulders up and smiled. “22 million.”

“22 million fucking dollars. You gone make me a young rich nigga. Walk with me.” A huge smile was displayed on Durkio’s face.

Erik watched as Alexis smiled when Durk led the way out of the office. She gave him one last glance and a wink before disappearing.

______________________________

“Ladies I need to see more working and less talking please.” Rhonda shouted from the back room. She was watching the cameras again.

Kelley rolled her eyes silently mocking her. Amiyah laughed while going over to the register. Popping the lid off the tupperware, she dug in the freshly homemade fruit salad she got from Kelley’s house and ate one of the pineapple slices. Hearing the sound of her phone ding she looked down. It was from Cane.

Cane: Thinking about you. See you soon...6:23pm

Amiyah sighed as she clicked her power button leaving him on read. After he kissed her on their date two nights ago Amiyah knew that she made a mistake when she agreed to going with him. The image of Erik stayed on her mind the entire night. When Cane dropped her off after, the feeling of guilt over took her so bad that she cried in the bathroom. She knew she was wrong and wanted to make it right. She planned on telling Erik about the whole ordeal but she wanted to wait for the right moment.

This was the third text she had got from him today that she didn’t reply to and he just wouldn’t get the memo. Kelley noticing her mood change, walked over picking up a piece of fruit and popped it in her mouth.

“What’s wrong girl?” She covered her mouth chewing.

“It’s Cane. He keeps texting me.”

Kelley gave her a confused look. “Isn’t that what you want him to do though?”

“No, of course not. I’m with Erik now, remember?”

Nodding her head she smirked. “Yeah and you were also with him when you went out with Cane. So what’s your point?”

Amiyah slapped her hand on the counter out of frustration. “My point is if Cane wants to be more than friends then I can’t keep him around. I already made one mistake and if I continue to keep being naive then I’m going to fuck everything up with Erik.”

“Well have you told him that you’re not single? Did you tell him you just wanted to be friends?”

Amiyah avoided eye contact with her. “No.” The answer came out just above the sound of a whisper.

���So then tell him! People can’t read your mind Miyah. How is he supposed to know if you’re not making it clear? Sounds like to me you’re leading him on.” Kelley gave her a ‘you know what you’re doing’ glance before walking away.

Amiyah rolled her eyes as she wrote down the chores in the work assignment book. To her there was no way that she was leading Cane on. Yes she kissed him but it was only because he came on to her. Even after the fact ,her vibe had changed and made things awkward during the dinner. How could he not interpret that she wasn’t feeling him the way he felt her.

Feeling the breeze from outside, Amiyah knew that a customer was making their way in. She stopped what she was doing, getting ready to greet them but halted in her tracks. There stood Cane dressed in a Gucci tracksuit holding flowers. He walked up to her with a wide grin.

“Hey...told you I was thinking about you.” He lifted up the flowers and leaned over kissing her on the cheek quickly.

Shock but yet not wanting to be rude Amiyah accepted the roses. “Wow Cane y-you didn’t have to do this. Thank you.”

With his hands now in his pockets he gave a shrug keeping his gaze on her. “It’s nothing. I missed you.” He spoke truthfully.

Cane thought that the date between them went great. Better than he expected. At first he took her out with a motive, expecting to get sex in return but his outlook changed when he got to know her. She was sweet, caring, unselfish, and thoughtful. She was everything he wasn’t used to and the feeling of her lips on his didn’t make it any better. He was crushing on her.

“I remember telling you where I work but how did you know when I would be here?” Amiyah asked him curious to find out.

He laughed. “I had to call up here. A lady name Rhonda told me.”

Amiyah mentally rolled her eyes.

Bringing her hand up to her forehead she gently placed the flowers to her side. “Cane I have something to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

“We can’t be more than friends. I have a boyfriend and I really hope that I wasn’t leading you on the other night. I’m sorry.” Amiyah was starting to feel bad.

Cane did a quick scoff looking down. “Why didn’t you just tell me in the first place? I would’ve understand.”

“It’s complicated and I just-“

“It shouldn’t be.” He spoke cutting her off.

“What?”

“If he’s ya man than it shouldn’t be complicated. Only simple. I know I wouldn’t let it be and I damn sure wouldn’t let you go out on dates with other niggas...If I was your man.” He stepped closer invading her space.

“I respect you Amiyah and if backing off is something you want me to do than I’ll do it. It might take me some time to get over not seeing your pretty ass smile anymore, but what can I say? You win some you lose some.” His thumb and index finger held her chin up.

Amiyah tried not to blush but failed. “Cane your a great guy but I can’t.”

He shook his head. “Well can I have one last hug?”

He sent her a sweet smile that Amiyah wasn’t able to deny. Giggling she opened her arms. He wrapped his arms over her neck and hers went around his torso. Amiyah inhaled taking in his scent. He smelled so good right now but she had to shake the feeling. They hugged for at least ten seconds before letting go.

“I’ll see you around.” Cane gave her one final wave as he walked out the door.

Watching the whole thing go down in front of her eyes like she wasn’t there, Kelley marched over to Amiyah.

“Sis that nigga was fine as fuck. Between him and Erik I wouldn’t know who to choose either.”

Amiyah gave a light smile. “Well I do.”

________________________________________

Eight o’clock had came around faster than Amiyah anticipated. Kelley had went home an hour ago and offered to wait for her but she declined. She had to stay behind to lock up but also had to make a stop before going back to her place. Amiyah was running low on clothes so since she still had the key to her apartment she figured she can get in and out grabbing her belongings before Durk got there.

It was still early so she suspected she had some time to get it done. When Amiyah reached the lobby to the apartment building the feeling of being homesick rushed over her body. It’s only been a little under a week but it’s the longest she’s ever been away from this place since her and Durk first moved in. It took less than five minutes before making it to their door.

Going inside Amiyah searched around. Everything still look the same besides the few clothing objects that Durk left hanging out in the livingroom. Whenever Amiyah was here she’d have to pick up after him so out of habit that’s what she did. She gathered his clothes and brought them to his room putting them in his hamper. Then she walked into her room. The smell of Glad Hawaiian Breeze automatic spray hitting her nose. She missed it.

Her bed was still made up the way it was before she left. Sitting her purse and phone down on the nightstand she slipped her shoes off and got in. Her eyes closed from the warm plush blanket and mattress she felt against her body. The couch at Kelley’s was starting to become uncomfortable so right now Amiyah’s body was getting the relaxation it yearned for. She was only planning on resting for a few minutes before she got her things and left but the tiredness in her eyes betrayed her as she drifted off to sleep.

Being a light sleeper was always a blessing and a curse for Amiyah but for this instance it was a blessing. With the apartment so quiet that you can hear a pin drop she was also able to hear the sound of keys unlocking the front door. Her eyes opened quickly as she sat up in her bed. Picking up her phone she checked the time. It was 11:52pm. She overslept.

“Shit.” She cursed softly. Walking to her dresser she grabbed three tops and some jeans along with fresh bras and underwear and put them inside of her Pink tote bag.

Her ears was finally met with the voice of Durks who was talking to someone. Even though Amiyah told Erik that she was willing to talk to her brother she didn’t think it would be this soon. She wanted some more time before she had a conversation with him. She felt that they still needed time apart hence why she tried to refrain herself from being here at the same time he was. But there was nothing she could do now but face him. Getting her things she slowly walked out her room.

“Damn nigga I can’t believe that bitch played you.” Durk laughed. He was standing in the middle of the livingroom with his arms folded where he could be seen from the hallway. His body was facing the furniture. That’s when Amiyah seen that he wasn’t alone and looking at the person from behind who was sitting she knew it was Erik.

The creaking noise coming from the floor gave her away. Durk quickly looked in her direction with a hand ready to grab the gun off his waist. His eyes showed that he was both surprised and confused.

“Amiyah?” He questioned to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

The sound of her name coming from his mouth made Erik’s head flew towards him. He followed his gaze and stood up when he saw Amiyah holding a bag of clothes. Observing her he noticed that her eyes were a light red. Like she just got finished either crying or sleeping but when Erik saw the frizzy-ness to her hair he knew she had just woken up.

“Hey I just came to pick up some things. I’m leaving now.” Her eyesight averted between the both of them.

“Why? I mean where have you been? How are you doing?” Being the protective brother that he was Durk rushed her with questions.

Lifting her shoulders in a half shrug she answered. “I’m good and I been at Kelley’s. Which I should be going back to now.” Amiyah tried walking to the door but was stopped.

“Amiyah we don’t have to keep doing this shit. I’m sorry okay. You my lil sis and I love you. I was fucked up kicking you out the way I did but I didn’t expect you to leave for real.” Durk dropped his hands to his sides. He wanted his little sister back home with him.

Amiyah folded her arms snickering to herself. “Not only did you kick me out but you called me a bitch Derrick.”

“And I’m sorry. I was in the heat of the moment. Shit we both said some things that we didn’t mean but to hold grudges, that’s something we never do and you know that. Dad would’ve never let us go this long without talking to each other.” He walked in front of her putting his hand on her shoulder.

With the burning sensation creeping around her eyes Amiyah held back her tears. The reference of their father struck a nerve in her. Her and Durk never mentioned him that much since he was sentenced to life. So when he brought him up Amiyah became emotional.

“Listen Durk I’m sorry for the things that I said. Yes sometimes I speak without thinking and that’s something we both do. But it hurt having my own brother kick me out of a place where I am supposed to feel safe and protected. You gave me no choice but to leave so I did.” Amiyah paused wiping away the tears that fell.

“Look you’re my brother and I love you but I just need a little bit more time.”

Durk nodded before wiping her last falling tear. “Okay I understand but before you go I just want to know if you forgive me. I can’t go another day without knowing.”

Without saying a word Amiyah embrace him. He rested his chin on her head while closing his eyes.It reminded her of the hugs he used to give her when she was younger. Amiyah missed them.

Erik massaged the back of his neck watching them make up. It even gave him a sense of relief that he no longer had to wonder when it would happen. He was happy to be here to see it for himself.

“I have to get back to Kelley’s.” Amiyah separated from the embrace throwing her tote over her shoulder.

Patting down his pants Durk searched for his keys.

“Let me take you-“

“No it’s fine. I’ll take an Uber. It’s how I got here anyways.” She gave a small smile.

“Miyah you know how I feel about that. Just let me drive you there and that’s it?”

“Thank you Durk but I’m fine. Remember I still need some time?” She nudged him before it went quiet.

“I’ll bring her.” Erik stood in the middle catching attention from both of them.

Amiyah smiled in the inside when she heard him speak. Not wanting to be too obvious she faked declined his offer.

“No it’s okay.”

“Amiyah look I know you mad at me and all but Erik ain’t got nothing to do with what we got going on. At least let him bring you. I trust him.” He gave her a look hoping she agreed.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Amiyah did a false sigh while rolling her eyes. Walking past Erik to the door she gave him a quick glance with a smirk.

Erik had to hide his smile as he shook his head. He knew that she was trying to make it seem like she didn’t want him to bring her but he knew it was a front. Getting his things he gave Durk a dap.

“Aye man make sure she make it inside safely before you pull off.”

“Of course. I’ll catch you later to talk more about business.”

___________________

The hip hop station played in the background. Erik was trying to pay attention to the road but failed with the beautiful distraction sitting next to him. They were currently talking about how Amiyah had to fake an attitude just so her brother wouldn’t suspect anything. She couldn’t help herself from laughing as she talked about the look on Erik’s face.

“You did not know, liar.” Her giggles filling up the car.

Erik smacked his lips. “C’mon stop playing with me. I could tell you was faking. I know you ma.” Reaching over he picked up her hand kissing the back of it. He held on to it for the rest of the time.

“Whatever.” Looking out the window Amiyah noticed that they weren’t in Kelley’s neighborhood. They were driving for a while so they should’ve been there but weren’t even close to the area.

“Where are we going?” She asked fiddling with his watch.

“Uh I want to show you something. It’s a surprise.”

For the first time since knowing him Amiyah could observe from his body language that Erik was nervous. The repeated roll of his shoulders with the clutch of the steering wheel gave him away. It was cute to her being that she never seen him in this state before.

“Erik...are you getting nervous?” She teased leaning forward to get a better look at him.

He turned his head blocking her view. “Chill mama.”

Amiyah laughed as the car came to a stop. Looking around they were in a parking lot with a tall building next to it. From her point of view it looked like apartments. She glanced at Erik as he pushed the button shutting the car off.

“What’s this?”

He stroked his beard before answering. “This is where I live.”

Amiyah was taken back when the words left his mouth. She couldn’t believe that he brought her here. To his place. Knowing how Erik was a private person she didn’t think she would get this far at an early stage.

Erik noticed that she hardly said a word. It was making him rethink his actions. “You want to come in or should I bring you back to Kelley’s?” He began to gabble.

“No let’s go in. I want to see where you live.” Her smile was wide. She was curious and couldn’t help herself.

As they walked through the building Amiyah’s wandered everywhere. She was taking it all in. From the structure of the walls even to the boring art work that laid on them. It was the excitement in her that had her roaming everywhere. They reached the elevators and stepped in. He pressed the eleventh floor before closing the doors. Erik stood against the wall and pulled her in front of him holding onto her hip.

“Eleventh floor? You’re living pretty high and mighty Mr.-“ She paused realizing that she didn’t know his last name.

“What is your last name by the way?” She tilted her head looking back at him.

He chuckled. “Why you plan on making it yours or something?”

She blushed facing forward.

“Stevens.”The raspiness of his late night voice had Amiyah clenching her thighs.

“Erik Stevens. I guess it goes together.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her closer with her back against his hard chest. She could feel her ass pressing into his length. It made her jump from surprise as the throbbing in her kitty appeared. Moving her hair to the side Erik bent down putting his face in her neck.

“Just like you and me go together.” He spoke softly rubbing on her hips.

She panted biting her lip. She placed her hands on top of his not knowing what else to do with them. Erik heard a moaned escape her lips when he kissed her neck. Kissing over the faint hickies that were still there. When the elevator doors opened they walked out hand in hand as Erik lead them to his door. Taking out his keys he unlocked it and it open with his free hand.

When he flipped on the light Amiyah’s face lit up. Her eyes drifted everywhere. She was amazed with how he was living. He was doing good for himself and it looked like a true bachelor’s pad. An all black sectional with grey pillows. A sixty-five inch flat screen tv mounted on the wall. His kitchen was neat and clean which meant he probably doesn’t use it as much or he was just a clean person.

Amiyah giggled softly placing her things on the couch. “Babe you stay here all by yourself?”

Erik placed his keys on the counter before walking to his bar. He pulled out a bottle of Hennessy cracking it open and pouring it in a glass. The burn going down his throat when he took a sip.

He lifted his shoulders. “What you think mama?” He asked her sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. “I think I want to keep looking around.” She dragged her nails across the couch.

The was a flight of stairs attached to the same wall that the tv was on. Amiyah strolled over glancing at them before going up. When she reached the top she walked through a short hall to be met with his room.

“Wow just wow.”

He was truly living like a king and she couldn’t believe that he was living in this palace alone. She heard footsteps coming up so she plopped down on the bed posing.

“How do I look?” Taking a piece of her locks she tucked it behind her ear.

Erik stepped inside sipping on what was to be his third glass of Henn. The liquor was doing its job as he already felt the effects of being tipsy. He sat the finished glass on his nightstand as he took of his jacket.

“You look like you supposed to be there.” He lifted his eyebrows removing his shirt next with his chain swinging from the sudden quickness.

Amiyah sat up from her spot. Her nerves going crazy when she saw his bare chest. The flex in his muscles whenever he moved his arms created a dampness in her panties. It was the littlest things he did that would always set her off.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes roaming over his body.

“Bout to take a shower. You wanna join?” The look on his face read that he was serious as he asked that question like it was nothing.

Amiyah scoffed with surprise. “No but I’ll take one first...without you.” She stood up walking towards his bathroom. He followed behind chuckling.

“I don’t know why you acting like that. It’s not like I ain’t see that pretty pussy already.” He leaned against his sink. The definition in his arms were showing.

The wetness between her thighs were flowing. She folded her arms glaring at him softly. “Just give me a towel Erik.”

He hung his head laughing as he went into the bathroom closet grabbing an extra wash cloth and bath towel. He handed it to her before going under the sink and grabbing a bar of dove soap.

“Here, hurry up. I want to get in next.” He tossed her the bar.

“And if I don’t?” She asked smartly.

“Don’t act surprised when I come in there with you.” He stated seriously and walked out.

_

It was easy for her to work the shower. The hot and cold handles were separate so there was no difficulty in trying to find which way it went. Amiyah allowed the water to cascade down her body. She gave a relaxed sigh as she foamed her body up with the lather. This was very much needed after the day she had. Being at Erik’s place was so peaceful. It was mellow and quiet. Something she could get used to. If this is what it felt like to live alone than she was definitely going to start putting in application for a spot.

Her shower ended after fifteen minutes. Since it wasn’t her place she didn’t want to be rude and take a long one as well as using up all of his hot water. Reaching her arm out of the glass door she grabbed her towel making sure it was secure before stepping out. She was so busy trying to hurry up and wash the day off she forgot her clothes downstairs.

Amiyah picked up her dirty clothes. She rolled her eyes knowing that Erik was going to see her in nothing but a towel at any moment. She did a light jog downstairs making sure she had a grip on the linen so it wouldn’t fall. Spotting her bag on the sectional she walked over to it. For a minute she thought she was alone until she saw Erik drinking a bottle of water standing between the doorway of the kitchen and livingroom. He cocked his head to the side staring at her as he drunk. Then he called her over.

“C’mere.” With his deep voice it was loud and clear.

Erik watched as she eyed him up and down. The way she looked in nothing but his towel had his dick on ten. How the bottom of her hair stuck to her back due to its wetness. The way her thick thighs had the towel rising up. He was ready to devour her. He was no where near drunk but the liquor was aiding into his horny-ness.

“What do you want Erik?” Her tone was teasing yet playfully annoyed. She grabbed her bra and panties but had no night clothes. She slapped her hand against her thigh when she noticed.

“Come over here and come find out.” His tongue hanging out before swiping it over his bottom lip. When she didn’t listen once again he began to walk over.

Amiyah studied his actions. Watching him draw nearer to her she started walking away going back up the stairs. He followed closed behind. Amiyah felt his stares on her ass. Making it back to the masters she stood beside his bed. She became nervous feeling him up her back. Not sure what to do she gripped the top of her towel to occupy her hands.

“Why you don’t listen ma?” He pulled up the pants that were hanging dangerously below his waist. Lightly grabbing her arm he turned her around. She was gazing up at him the same way he fantasize her doing in the shower the other day. He wrapped his arm around her pulling her in for a kiss but she put one between them creating space.

“What do you want Erik?” Amiyah asked softly for the second time and smiled blocking his advances. She was liking this game of making him work hard for it. This time he was yearning for her and she was in control.

Chewing on his top lip he told her straight up. “I want to eat ya pussy.” His tone was blunt.

When he stepped forward she stepped back which resulted in her stumbling and falling on the bed. They both look down at the same time to see her towel risen up just inches away from showing her treasure. She left it that way.

“You not gonna try and pull it down?” Erik leaned over her placing his hands on either side of her.

Resting up on her elbows she shook her head. “No.”

Amiyah reached up playing with his chain. The ring that accompanied it catching her attention. Erik admire her as he watched. Amiyah was just as horny as he was. She could feel the sticky wetness coating her lower lips. She never received oral before so she was willing to jump at the opportunity that was thrown at her. She leaned into him giving what he was longing for, a kiss.

Erik’s tongue swirled in her mouth. He followed her as she laid flat on the bed. Her legs opened inviting him in. He felt her small hands rubbing up and down his back before they started to tug at his pants. He grabbed her hands holding them down by her hips as he moved his kisses to her neck.

“Can I move this towel?” He asked coming up from her neck.

Amiyah’s eyes shifted down. She wanted this badly but she didn’t know if she was ready for Erik to see all of her yet. The thought of being completely naked in front of him caused butterflies to erupt in her belly. She still had insecurities that she was dealing with.

Erik noticed that she was overthinking it. He kissed her shoulder blade and the open area across her chest. “Get out your head mama. You beautiful.”

Even though Erik wanted to see all of her he could tell that she wasn’t ready. So he respected her wishes but he still wanted to show her how beautiful her and her body was to him. Leaving the towel in place he skipped down to her uncovered thighs. The dove scent being easily detectable. Getting on his knees he pulled her body closer to the edge making her shriek. He kissed the top of them causing her to shiver.

“Can I eat this pussy?” His breath touching her skin.

Leaning up on her elbows once more Amiyah nodded but Erik wanted to hear verbal confirmation. “Speak.” He demanded ready to open her legs and dive in.

“Yes daddy.” She bit her lip hiding the trembling in her voice.

Amiyah’s body shook lightly with every kiss he placed on her legs. He took both of his hands gripping her thick thighs before separating them exposing her wet bare pussy. He bit his lip inhaling her natural aroma. Amiyah was no longer watching as she laid on her back one hand already gripping his covers and the other covering her face.

Erik hooked her by the back of her knees spreading her wider. He gave her light kisses on her inner thighs getting both sides. He watched as they shook after each one. His eyes traveled to her middle finally coming face to face with her phat pussy. His mouth watered remembering the teasing taste that he had on his fingers last time. He’s been craving her pussy ever since and tonight he was going to take her for every drop.

“Hold your legs for me baby girl.”

She replaced his hands with hers and jumped when she felt his fingers spread her lower lips open. Her breath picked up as she felt the heat from his mouth get close to her aching core. Leaning up and looking down in time she watched as Erik gave her one swift lick from her hole to her clit. Her body jolted letting go of her hold on her legs.

“Don’t start that runnin shit.” He held her legs opened again this time her stringy lubricant showing when her pussy lips spread. “Damn ya shit wet as fuck.”

Erik took one hand separating her meaty lips. Using his long pointy tongue he flicked her clit a few times bringing it out of hiding. Amiyah covered her mouth moaning into her hand. The feeling of his wet tongue bringing the vocals out of her. When her nub was nice and perky he swirled his tongue over in a rotation before making a tight suction with his lips over it.

Amiyah ,not used to the feeling, clamped her thighs on his head. The involuntary whimpers left her mouth. She couldn’t stop them from coming. Sitting up she used one hand to try and push his head from between her thighs but couldn’t when Erik gripped them wrapping his arms around them.

“Erikkk...I can’t.” She moaned trying to back away.

He was going back and forth between sucking her clit and giving firm flicks. She wanted him to stop but keep going at the same time. She didn’t understand what was going on. But what alarmed her the most was when she felt her legs shake and muscle jerking from the inside. Amiyah gripped the covers searching for something to hold on to.

Erik continued his movements. Between clenched thighs he watched her make faces that she couldn’t fake. The taste of her cream coating his tongue made him almost animalistic. He wanted to ease up but he couldn’t. Bringing his hands to the back her thighs he snatched them from around his head as he pushed them all the way back. Now standing up he was bending down eating her pussy.

He paid attention to her body and noticed she would always start to jerk when he sucked her clit. So that’s what he did. Repeatedly. He was going to suck that pussy until he made it cum.

Reaching down Amiyah pushed his head into her pussy biting her lip. Tears producing in her eyes. A tight cramp feeling in her lower abdomen. Yet he kept eating her out. Her hips rocked up towards his mouth as she couldn’t explain why she still wanted it even through overstimulation.

“Daddyyy...” She whimper watching him flick her clit. Her toes curled from the feeling.

“Mhmm.” He moaned against her pussy causing a shake within her body.

“What are you doing to me?...daddy.” She whined in hush tone not caring about her towel that had started to come undone.

Erik repeated off and on sucking drove her crazy. He lifted up with a string of her wetness attached to his full lips and beard. “I’m taking care of the pussy. This what you wanted right?” He teased while sending one long slow dripping spit that landed directly on her bud.

Amiyah’s legs jerked when he went back to sucking her sensitive clit. “Mm I think I love youuu.” She threw her head back. The vibration of his laugher could be felt through her nub.

‘Got that ass!’

Erik thought as he laughed while remaining his assult on her pussy. He was ready to taste her nectar. Bringing his hands up to her tittes he pulled and twisted her nipples before flicking them with his index fingers. It took nothing but a few seconds for the double stimulation to have her pussy oozing out her juices right on to his tongue.

Her thrusting hips came to a stop as Amiyah placed her hands on Erik’s that was resting on her breast. Her stomach that was now showing caving up and down as she tried to catch her breath. Looking up at his ceiling she felt his light kisses traveling up her body stopping at her head. She felt exhausted and drained but very much relaxed.

Erik putting his nose in her hair inhaling her scent brought a hand up to her throat. He then moved his lips against her ear and spoke lowly. “You better not give my pussy up to nobody but me.”

He kissed her softly before getting up to take a shower.

____________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

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