#like yeah the show is gone and it went out like a black hole tryna suck joy and life outta me

[dr-lizortecho]

everytime Jeanine and Amber call each other sister something in my heals <333

[gojosgoddess]

Carpet Burn

Pairing: Jonathan Lyndale “DaBaby” Kirk x Black! Thicc reader

A/N: Hello again guys!! I wanted to kind of make a continuation to Finally but you don’t’ have to read it before reading this one. I was re-watching his music videos and remembered how funny Carpet Burn was so I imagined if the girl in the video was his girl AKA you. Enjoy my gorgeous sister.

Warnings: NSFW (18+), Smut, Thick Reader, Regular Nasty Nasty, unprotected sex (Don’t be silly, wrap that willy)

Jon was crazy. You were a 100% certain that Jon was insane. But damn you love this fool. Here you were in a sexy black teddy, putting on your makeup and waiting for Jon to tell you that you were about to start filming.

You see, Jon thought up this brilliant idea to recreate the whole Cam Coldheart situation. He sat you down and explained the entire video which made you two crack up laughing to the point where your stomach hurt. And his bright idea? Add his gorgeous fiancé in the video.

You were going to film the backyard scene first where you’d basically be frolicking and rubbing up on each other, while you wore a sexy black bikini and he wore his overalls.  

Your thoughts were interrupted when a knock came at the door and your man poked his head through the door with a grin on his face.

“Hey Babygirl.” He said in his deep, low voice making you smile at him. “Hi Baby.” You responded as he walked further into the room and closed the door. He dramatically leaned against the door and licked his lips while looking over your figure.

“Where your fine ass think you goin’? Looking like a full course meal, just waiting to devoured?!” He said before rushing towards you and playfully nibbling on your neck, causing you to giggle and lean into him.

“Baby come on now, you wanted me to look nice for your video so I just did what Daddy told me to do.” You said sweetly. He stopped nibbling to slowly look into your eyes. “Don’t you be starting something, you can’t finish. I will tear this ass up. Right now. Don’t play me.” He growled, holding you tighter and grinding his seemingly hard dick into your core making you bite his lip and purr.

“YO!! Y/N! JON! Come on out y’all, we ready to film!!” We heard Reel yell out. Jon completely ignored him and started sucking on your neck making you arch your back as he got to your spot that made your toes curl. You tapped his shoulder making him look up at you.

“Baby, we need to go film your music video for your song about the time we fucked on the floor in the living room cause we couldn’t make it to the bedroom.” You said, lightly tracing his lips. He groaned out loud, rolling his eyes and bit his lip.

“Aight Mama, but Imma get in that ass as soon as the shoot is over.” He smacked your ass before walking out, leaving you in shock. He laughed at your shocked face. “Come on my Nubian queen.” He walked out and you shook your head, following him.

“I’m gone make this hell for him.” You thought and smirked to yourself. 

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To say Jon was horny and pissed, was a complete understatement. When he said he was going to tear your ass up, he was going to. Tear. Your. Ass. Up.

You were constantly rubbing on his dick, grinding up on him, even twerked on him once during the pool chair scene which made him had to call cut and go to the bathroom for a few minutes. You smiled as your plan to get dick was coming together.

We were now filming the final scene where we were laid up on the carpet with a blanket draped over us. You had changed into a little black teddy that accentuated your curves to the point where you looked like race car track.

 “Yessss sir.” He acted while you were rubbing on his chest as he smoked a blunt. “Oh no Daddy, I think you gave me carpet burn.” You said with a pout as he smiled at you. “Cause I was dropping it off. Dropping it off. Like uh, uh,uh.” He laughed while thrusting his hips up making you immediately look at crotch and bite your lip at the dick print that was showing through the blanket.

Reel called cut and Jon changed into that fat suit for the next scene where he played Cam Coldheart, making you giggle at him while he did wild ass poses to make you laugh. “This boy a fool.” You thought fondly to yourself.

As soon as the shoot was over, everyone clapped while you smoothed over the sheets as you were still on the floor. Jon ripped off the wig and took off the fat suit and ordered everybody to get the hell out of the house. As soon as everyone was out, he locked the door and practically flew to you.

“So you thought you was cute, huh? Teasing me with that big ass, rubbing your titties all on me…you must not want to walk tomorrow huh?” He asked, pulling your hair so you looked up at him, “Babygirl, you better answer me.” He said sternly.

“Yes Daddy!” You moaned out. He smiled and released your hair before laying down next to you and spreading out his legs. “Well you gone get what you wanted baby, but you gone work for it first.” He said gesturing down to his dick. You smiled excitedly before moving down and releasing his dick from his briefs.

You always got excited about giving Jon head. His dick was long, thick yet just the right size for you. You swirled your tongue on his head making him suck in a breath before you slid him deep down your throat. “Oh, goddamn girl, you tryna snatch my soul.” He said in a strained voice while you looked up at him sexily. You loved the fact that he was so vocal during sex, there wasn’t anything sexier than a man who wasn’t afraid of moaning and groaning in your ear.

You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him deeper and jerking what couldn’t fit in your mouth. He groaned out loud and tucked your hair behind your ear so he could see you take his dick in your mouth. “Yeah Babygirl, take Daddy’s dick in that throat.” He growled making a waterfall appear in your teddy. You deepthroated him and while still maintaining the suction force causing his eyes to damn near roll his eyes into his head.

You continued your motion, going deeper and sucking harder till he pulled your mouth off him. “Baby I’m finna cum if you keep on throating my dick like that. I want to cum in that pussy now lay your ass down.” He said in a deep breath. You smirked to yourself, proud about your head skills while he muttered to himself. “Damn girl tryna suck the soul out my dick.” You both laughed at him before he brought you into a passionate kiss and laying you down.

He got on top of you, never breaking the kiss while unclipping the top of your teddy and sliding down the straps before pulling the rest of it down your body. Your legs slipped out of the leg holes while he bit your bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth.

His sensual kisses moved down from your lips, to your neck where he marked your neck with hickies and nicked at the skin with little bites, making you quickly jump and him chuckle on your skin. He caressed your breasts while littering them also with hickies and sucking on your nipples with a hungry vigour. You moaned as he basically french kissed your nipples with his sexy lips. The list of sinful things this man could do with his mouth is endless.

His mouth travelled lower as he peppered kisses all over your soft tummy while lovingly rubbing on your rolls that he made sure to adore, appreciate and love every single time you two were together. He then licked a trail from your bellybutton to your navel before picking up your glorious thighs and placing them up on his shoulder. He looked you straight in your eye with lust before sucking your clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue. This man really tryna take your soul now.

It was your turn for your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he licked and sucked on your clit while fingering you. This man had your back arched as if you were possessed and all this time, he kept his eyes on you, watching your reaction and smirking every time you let out a scream of pleasure. At this point, your G-spot became a rest spot for the tips of his two fingers. At this point the pleasure was starting to override you and your body started to shake as your orgasm was fast approaching. Suddenly, he tore his lips and fingers from you before licking his lips and fingers.

“Goddamn girl, you taste good. You got that sweet gushy gushy for Daddy.” He said before laying on top of you. “I want you to cum on this dick.” He said before kissing you and wrapping your thick thighs around his waist. Though mad as hell that your orgasm was taken away from you, you kissed him back passionately and wrapped your arms around his back.

He tore away from your lips and looked you in your eyes before slowly slidinghis dick in your pussy making you close your eyes and sigh in relief.

“Ooh shit Daddy.” “Damn.” You both said in each other’s face. You smiled at him before he put his hand on your throat and squeezed while he started dishing out delicious thrusts. Your moans were cut short when he kissed you again. You moaned into his mouth as he grunted in yours. Your booty was rubbing against the carpet which would’ve made you stop but just like the first time, the dick was too A1 and perfect for you to ask him to stop.

He tore his lips away from yours to lean up and start delivering fast yet deep strokes. He tightened his hold on your neck as you tightened your grip on his dick. Your eyes went cross eyed and your toes curled as your first orgasm came and your practically exploded on his dick. You started to shake as he continued to give light thrusts to ride you through your orgasm. He waited for you to calm down before he pulled out and tapped his dick on your clit to make your body shake like you got electrocuted.

“Oh, I ain’t done with that ass Baby, come on now, face down, ass up.” He said licking his lips. You were still sensitive but you turned over and assumed the position. He got behind you and rubbed your ass.

“Hmm, the pussy good it had me stalking her.” He sang a lyric from his song before thrusting deep inside again. He propped his one leg up in a crunch position and started destroying that pussy. He pulled your hand with one hand and delivered harsh smacks to your ass adding on to the sensation.

“You gone tease me like that huh?! You gone shove that ass in my face with all those people staring?! You gone give Daddy his pussy like he deserves?!?” He asked, not once stopping his thrusts. Your eyes rolled over in your head as your head as practically shoved into the carpet. He grew angry and grabbed your hair and pulled you up towards him. “You gone fucking answer my questions!”

“Yes, yes, yes Daddy!!!” You yelled as you utterly felt your guts being arranged and your knees getting some carpet burn. “Ooh Daddy don’t stop!!” You moaned as your eyes crossed again and you felt that familiar tug at in your stomach. He released your hair and softly laid your upper body on the ground before he roughly took your wrists in his hands and thrusted even harder.

“Cum on this dick again Babygirl!! Drench my shit baby. Make a waterfall on this dick.” He said lowly knowing what his voice can do to you. And that seemed to the last straw as he gave one last hard thrust and both your bodies shook as you came.

“Oh Daddy!! Oh, right there, right there!! Daddy I’m cumming!!!” “Back that ass up on me ma, I’m finna cum right. Fucking. Now. Shittt!!! Babygirl!!!” You both said to each other as he filled you up and you drenched his lower abdomen and thighs.

He slipped out of you before he laid down next to you and laid you on his chest.

“I can’t believe I let your PT cruiser head ass give me carpet burn again.” You said breathily in shock. You laughed at his face as he looked at you shocked and tried to hide his laughter. “Babygirl…fuck you.” He said before laughing and playfully biting your round cheek. You laughed again before staring at his gorgeous face and lightly touching his adorable dimples.

“I love you Baby.” You said smiling at him. He softly pecked your lips. “I love you too Mama, more than you gone ever know.”

“Now lemme pick your thick ass up and get up out of this white people’s house ��fore they come back.” He said making you both laugh.

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A/N: Hope you gorgeous goddesses like this one, I just had to do this because this man and his songs do something to me sometimes. Again, my ask box is open whether you want to talk about something or request something, as well as my messages. See y’all later and please stay safe my loves.

~Natascha

[make-it-mavis]

All Work and No Play

Wreck-it Ralph fic (main timeline, post-Roadblasters, pre-Sugar Rush) Comedy/Romance 6370 words Characters: Make-it Mavis, Turbo Content warnings: dirty humor, brief sensuality, themes of burnout/depression

Premise: Unable to sleep, Mavis stays up practicing drawing objects. Turbo joins her and convinces her to draw something more fun. While they both have a good time, Turbo has a few things left to say on the matter, and, as usual, Mavis is reluctant to listen.

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Mavis never considered herself afraid of the dark, per se. 

She had long ago set up curtains around her camp in Fix-it Felix Jr., trying to capture and contain the glow of her stolen lights and hide the vast, dark forest from her mind. On the nights she spent in Turbo's trailer, she was grateful for what little sunlight that managed to intrude through the tiny slits of space between the blackout shutters, just enough to highlight the shapes of furniture and belongings. But it was not the dark she truly feared -- it was the space. It was even just the illusion of space. Wide, open darkness with no visible end just needled toxic flashbacks into her brain, memories of the time she spent trapped in her game's code space. Smaller, enclosed spaces were protection from the fear that she would float away in her sleep, never to find her way back, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, that security was sometimes hard to firmly hold onto during nights in the abandoned wall socket that was Turbo's hideout. The chamber was not unreasonably large, and there was some minuscule illumination from the hole in the socket, but it was not enough to clearly touch all the walls or the far corners.

It was not worthy of a panic attack, but sometimes, it was enough to keep her awake, even just out of the knowledge that she would have a nightmare if she fell asleep.

So, on a night in late spring, Make-it Mavis sat awake, alone in the direct, dim light from the arcade outside. With her sketchbook in hand, and her sleeping attire just a tank top and panties, she figured the mental stimulation and the somewhat chilly air on her bare skin would be enough to keep her from drifting off.

Too tired for extensive creativity, she merely drew miscellaneous objects and weapons, the usual effort to keep in practice so she could accurately produce said items with her brush. If she could not draw it, she could not paint it.

A few pages in, beginning to run out of ideas, she glanced around the room in thought, and had a mini heart attack at the sight of two distant yellow eyes peering through the darkness. In one way or another, Turbo had woken up in the corner where they slept.

"Mav?" she heard him say groggily.

"Hey," she replied. "Did I wake you up?"

"Uh," the glow disappeared for a moment as his eyes closed, "I dunno. Maybe? It's fine."

"'Kay," she said softly, looking down at her blank page again.

After a moment, he asked, "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "I'm fine. Just can't sleep, so I figure I might as well do something."

From the corner, she heard rustling, grunting, and stumbling footsteps. Turbo approached, a blanket around his shoulders, and two pillows under his arm. His hair was a mess, part of it flattened against the side of his head, part of it trying to fly away to freedom. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just drawing," she shrugged. 

A pillow hit her in the face, thrown by Turbo. After a grumbled thanks, she put it behind her back. Turbo then plopped himself down next to her. Sizing her up, he said, "Ain't ya cold?"

"Don't fuss," she mumbled, drawing a small spiral. "I'm fine."

He threw half of the blanket over her shoulders anyway, scooting right up against her body. Fresh out of bed, he was even warmer than usual. It was more inviting than she cared for at the moment.

"Whatcha drawin'?"

"So full of questions," she observed, glancing at him with a quirked brow.

"I woke up into immediate, crippling boredom, Mav," he exhaled. "Forgive me. Indulge me."

She scoffed. "Okay. But I ain't drawin' anything interesting."

"Why not?"

"'Cause my brain is half asleep, and I need to practice drawing new stuff."

"Huh," he breathed, perplexed. "So, even now, you're working."

Mavis' brow furrowed, and she drew more swirls. "Yeah, so what? I'm just gettin' better at bein' productive. I gotta be if we're ever gonna get you outta here."

Turbo was quiet for a moment.

"Draw something fun," he insisted.

She laid her pencil flat against the page and sighed tiredly. "Like what, T?"

"You really got no ideas?"

"Like I said, I'm real tired."

"Well, a'ight, how about this," he presented his idea to her on his open palm. "I give a prompt, and you draw the first thing that comes into your head."

She rubbed her brow. "Why?"

"'Cause you're bein' boring."

With an irritated glance, she said, "I'm not boring."

"I know."

Partially fueled by spite, and partially genuine interest, she agreed to the game. "Okay, fine," she shrugged. "What's your first prompt? First thing that pops into your head."

"Rumble," he said immediately.

"Wow. That was fast."

"Y'said 'first thing.'"

"Well, alright," she stared at the page, preparing to carve something out of it. "Rumble."

Latching onto her first bizarre idea, she set to work, her pencil moving fast and loud, barely taking time to erase. Mashing together her knowledge of animals and machines, she drew the lovechild of a tiger and a motorcycle. It was essentially a tiger with a bike for a body. As she was paying particular attention to its snarling mouth, Turbo snickered.

"What the hell is that?" 

"Tigerbike, obviously," she said, unable to keep from smiling. "A rumbling motorcycle and a rumbling tiger… Y'know, growlin' and junk."

"That really was the first thing y'thought of, huh?"

"Of course. Does this look, in any way, planned?"

"No, no it does not," he said, leaning in to point out one fatal flaw. "If you'd planned it, you'd have realized exhaust smoke should be shooting from its ass."

That made her snort. "Devs above, how did I miss that?"

"You're off your game, Make-it," he chuckled as she drew crude black clouds trailing out of its rear end.

"Cut, print, done--"

"Wait, wait, wait," he delicately lifted a hand in protest, and took up the pencil. On the tigerbike's back, he drew a tiny stick figure wearing a helmet, sporting a grin and a triumphant thumbs up.

"That's me," he pointed, grinning.

Mavis burst into wheezing laughter. "What? The hell?"

"Well, obviously I'm the only sprite alive who could tame Tigerbike, Mav!" he said in mock outrage.

"Why are you so tiny?!"

"I'd like to think Tigerbike is inconceivably huge," he grinned.

Mavis cackled, "That's perfect. I'm gonna frame this."

"Wanna do another?"

"Y'know what? Hell yeah," she flipped to the next page, pencil at the ready. "Hit me with another."

"A'ight," he smacked his tongue. "Meteor shower."

Her brows raised. "Ooh. How pretty."

"Show me what ya got, kiddo," he shrugged with a smile.

Mavis pondered for about two seconds before an idea hit her. It was so stupid that she snickered out loud, but she shook her head and went with it.

"That's a good sign," Turbo observed, a smile in his voice.

"You're gonna love this," she muttered, her wrist working wildly. This one took way less time, a far cartoonier style than Tigerbike. Mavis and Turbo both chuckled as the idea came to life on paper, until she finally leaned back and showed Turbo the full masterpiece.

It was, quite literally, a meteor shower. Three meteorites stood in a group shower, lathering themselves up with their tiny stick arms.

It took Turbo a second, but then he groaned in the way reserved for any of her horrible puns. With a whimpering, perplexed laugh, he mumbled, "Seriously, Mav? Are you really presenting this to me?"

"No, no, look. You don't get it," she insisted with a grin, pointing at vital details with her pencil. "See, this guy in the middle is totally eyeing up the guy on the left. I mean, like, shameless ogling."

Turbo rubbed his face, half-laughing, half-whining. "No," he pleaded softly.

"Listen," she tapped the paper harder, her voice breaking with laughter. "And, like, the guy on the left is actually super into it, but he's actin' all oblivious n' blushy because the guy on the right is there, and he's-- I mean, he's just some regular guy."

"Mav--"

"AND, and, guy on the left isn't into PDA or anythin' 'cause he's just a boring freakin' space rock--"

Turbo cackled.

"And he doesn't wanna make the guy on the right like, an unwilling third party or some crap like that, but after they're all done n' the guy on the right's gone home, you know the other two are gettin' it on in the locker room."

Turbo put out his hand. "Mav, do me a favor. Please illustrate for me just how two spherical rocks get busy."

She sputtered. "Well, let's see, I mean, it'd be hard--"

"Ha."

"There'd be a lot of rolling, and-- hah, hard-- and just, like, tryna smash together like big ol' pool balls--" she drew a short series of pairs of rocks clacking off each other, trying in vain to hold onto the other with their tiny stick arms, getting stuck on their bellies. Turbo wheezed through the whole thing.

"Wait, okay, wait," he interjected, "what if they sorta worked like flint, and they threw off sparks when they really got goin'?"

"Oh, my Devs," she gasped. "What if everyone shot fire outta their junk when they came?"

"WHAT?"

"I mean! Y'better keep a fire extinguisher around and be really good at pullin' out or you'll get yourself some serious property damage and cook your partner from the inside literally every time you smash! There'd be like, safe sex ads in every port, and Surge would be handin' out free fire extinguishers left n' right!"

"Mavis what the hell?!" he wheezed, his eyes glistening from laughter. "Though, I gotta say, as far as horrible deaths go, death from screwin' don't sound like the worst."

"At least you got laid, is what you're sayin'?"

"Yeah. At least the last thing y'knew was the sweet throes of orgasm."

"So you're tellin' me," she poked him, "gettin' burned alive from the inside would be worth it just to get laid?"

"Wh-- I wouldn't go into it with the intent of gettin' fried to death, Mavis! I'm just sayin', theoretically if that unfortunate accident did occur…" he paused. "And, I mean, honestly, if the lay was, honest to the Devs, really to die for--"

"Turbo," she interrupted, her stomach beginning to ache from laughter. "Gimme another prompt, already!"

"Okay, okay, cool your jets!" He licked his lips. "Uh… sunshine."

"Huh. Gettin' sappy on me, here?"

"Just playin' the game, Mav."

Sunshine. She let that word sink in. She loved sunshine. The light, the warmth, the way it brought out the color of everything it touched. She knew Turbo liked it, too. It had to have reminded him of home… It occurred to her then, just how much he must have missed it. 

An image suddenly came to mind. But she cheated just a bit and twisted it into something more manageable. They were having fun. She did not want to suddenly drag big ol' emotions into it.

Taking a bit more time with this one, she drew a lovely, grassy hill, speckled with flowers. She then drew herself rolling down that hill… very unceremoniously, as if by accident. She was a bouncing, tangled ball of limbs, throwing up dirt, grass, and flowers beneath her. And close behind, she drew Turbo falling the exact same way. 

Watching over her shoulder, Turbo's chuckles had taken on a confused air. "Oookay," he muttered. "What am I lookin' at here, babe?"

"I'unno," she shrugged. "We're having a race. In the sunshine."

"And you're winning? Sounds fake."

"Okay, jackass. What if I told you there were jagged rocks at the bottom of the hill?" She drew crude spikes at the bottom. "Would you still wanna win?"

"Absolutely."

"Wow."

"So what's the real reward for winning, other than broken bones and bragging rights? It's always more fun with a reward."

She considered that. "Uh… I don't know, maybe the loser has to pick the winner a bouquet of flowers. I sure drew enough of 'em."

He paused. "A bouquet of flowers."

"Yeah, I mean…" she shrugged, suddenly wanting to backpedal. "Sprites get flowers for winning sometimes, right? Like, a medal and a big blooming bouquet, or whatever."

"Uh huh… so where's this medal?"

Mavis shoved him just a bit. "Gee, I'unno, T, why don't ya go pick one off the medal tree, ya greedy bastard. Y'said 'sunshine.' Sunshine makes flowers."

"It was a joke," he scoffed. Ruffling her hair, he said, "It's cute ya wanna pick me flowers."

Playfully swatting his hand away, she protested, "Maybe y'didn't hear me right -- I said that pickin' you flowers would be a punishment for losing."

"Sure," he leaned his head a bit closer, "but of course, y'must have known you were gonna lose anyway, ergo…"

Mavis looked at him, silently bearing that strange emotion that she felt only for him, wherein she could be irritated, but still know that Turbo being annoying usually meant he was in a good mood. And it was good to see him in a good mood, with how many reasons he had not to be. After so many nights of seeing him deep in program withdrawal, and literally sharing the pain as his glitching bled into her, but holding him close anyways… She could tolerate annoying teasing if it meant he was happy.

It took her a moment to realize that he had gone silent, too. He was still smiling, leaning his head back against the wall, but looked calmer, more thoughtful. There was something peculiar about the way he looked at her, and it made her antsy. 

"What?" she asked softly.

He blinked slowly, and his smile pulled into his cheek a bit. Tweaking her nose, he said, "Nothin'."

Suspicious, but not wanting to question him on it, Mavis cleared her throat and tried to move things along. She turned to a new page in her sketchbook. "Well, what do you think? Got another prompt for me?"

This time, he was quiet. She almost wondered if he did not want to play anymore, but with a glance at him, she determined that he was thinking about it more than he was supposed to. He was gazing straight ahead, right through the socket, into the arcade. His lips were pressed into a hard line, and he was lightly tapping his thumbs together. He seemed reluctant… almost anxious.

"Hey," Mavis said. "You're not supposed to think about it."

"Yeah, yeah." He did not look at her. "I got one for ya. Fun."

She was not expecting that answer. It felt so broad, compared to the other ones. "...Fun, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, rolling his head back and peering down his cheek at her. "Draw what that makes you think of."

She squinted. There was some kind of ulterior motive there that had her suspicious. Still, she shrugged. "Okeydokey, weirdo."

Fun, fun, fun. Images and colors fought for the forefront of her brain, but she could not hear one single, solid idea through the overlapping noises in her head. It did not take long for her to decide that she had been thinking too hard. She was making it way harder than it had to be. Willing to just get it over with, she put pencil to paper, closed her eyes, and let her hand follow the flow of her thoughts.

As she listened to the graphite scratching, she realized that she had been having so much trouble because ‘fun' was manifesting in her head as feelings and not one specific concept. It felt like… a thrill, a rush, a genuine high. It was triumphant victory and motivating failure. It was acrobatics, dizzying aerial maneuvers, falling, flying. Wild, messy rainbows. Loud music and explosions she could feel in her chest. Fireworks. Theatrics. Clever pranks. Stupid pranks. Petty crime. Booze, bad decisions, rough sex, risky business. It was what she lived for. It was in her code just as much as her paintbrush.

She really believed it was the core of her very being.

A minute passed before she opened her eyes and observed her work. It was just about as cluttered, ugly, and near-incomprehensible as she expected. Hard lines criss-crossed with no rhyme or reason. Shapes and figures overlapped until they were nearly unrecognizable, but she could make out a few. There was a guitar, a trumpet, a drum, and music notes. There were glass bottles, many broken. There were bits of confetti and paint splatter that would have been rainbow. Somewhere, there was a suspiciously phallic shape. But more than anything, there were clouds, feathers, and wings.

It was hideous. She liked it.

Turbo’s weight pushed against her a bit as he leaned in to see. “All done?”

“Yep. Whatcha think?"

He was quiet for a moment before making a comment. “Don't see much of that stuff in here, huh.”

She looked at him with slight concern. He just looked thoughtful. She frowned, wondering if confinement was particularly making him depressed that night. There truly were very few ways to have fun the way they used to, being locked up in a box. A pang of sympathy tapped in her chest, and she subconsciously rubbed his leg a bit, comfortingly.

Turbo just looked at her hand with apparent confusion, and then at her with a serious brow. "Uh, no," he said flatly. "I wanna know when you last did any of those things."

She blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Y'heard me."

After an automatic moment's thought, she realized an upsetting thing. She really could not remember off the top of her head. But there was something about Turbo's tone that felt accusatory, and her guard went up.

"When am I ever not doing these things?"

"Really?" His expression fell flat. "When was the last time you pulled a prank? Or flew around, just for the fun of it? You sure don't fly in here."

"I can't fly in here," she protested. "There's no room."

"Exactly!"

She huffed. "If you have something to say, T, will you just say it?"

He bit back words for a moment, his brow furrowing as he reconsidered, before he sighed and smacked his tongue. "Mav, you've been workin' way too hard."

She withdrew a bit. "Seriously? You're mad at me for working to get you out of here?"

Turbo sighed, briefly rubbing his face. "I ain't mad, I'm… Look, you're workin' too much. It ain't like you."

She scoffed. "I ain't a hard worker?"

He burst into a chuckle. "Are y'serious?"

Face getting hot, she bristled. "Be fair, T. I work real hard when I actually care about something."

He went quiet, and his gaze fell a bit. She could not help but look away, too. It was hard to talk about just how badly she wanted him out, how hard it was to see him in a cage, sick and suffering. And in her day to day life… she was lonely. She missed her other half. There seemed little she would not have done to have him back.

The hard work and sleepless nights, it was almost all for his sake. But it was really for hers, too.

Turbo spoke again, a very real exasperation in his voice. "Look, ya gotta know at least that if y'don't pace yourself, your engine's gonna burn out, n' then you won't be able to work at all. Does that sound good to you?"

"I'm not burning out," she mumbled. "I'm fine. I get enough of a break when I come hang out in here. I mean-- when we're not still working."

He waited again, and she could feel him looking at her. "Mav… take a break."

"I've been takin' too many breaks."

"Obviously, you're not. Take a longer break."

Idly, she drew small bubbles on her already cluttered drawing. "So… what, like a weekend?"

"Try a whole week."

"A week?" Her gaze snapped to him in disbelief. "I-- I-- No, I can't take a week off. That new motorcycle game just got plugged in and I haven't even been inside yet. I feel like we're so close to figuring something out--"

"Can I draw something?"

"...What?"

"Gimme your sketchbook," he beckoned at it. 

"Uh, sure, knock yourself out," she said, tossing the book and pencil in his lap. Turbo sure was acting weird that night. She was beginning to just accept it.

As he began to draw, she put her face in her hands and pushed curled fingers through her hair. In a sighing, apologetic voice, she said, "Look, T, it's not like I don't appreciate your, uh… concern. Well-- Not like it ain’t also real annoying, but... It's just that-- I'm-- I don't even think I could relax if I took a week off. I'd just be stressing about all I could be gettin' done, and thinkin' about all the days I was settin' us back…"

Turbo did not reply, or even look at her. His focus remained on the paper against his bent knees. Ever since he ended up in the socket, he had been drawing more and more. She would find his artwork littering the floor almost as much as his notes. It was endearing to see. 

Suddenly feeling as sad as she was tired, she scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, watching him work. It was always sort of hypnotic. Turbo had such a unique drawing style, evolved from years of blueprints and mechanic work -- he seemed to think almost entirely in perfectly clean lines and sharp angles. His work was abstract and boxy, rarely illustrating any clear figure, but beautiful in its own right. More often than not, it looked so pristine, one might have thought a machine printed it. And indeed, as she watched, his arm moved so mechanically, as if his skeleton were made of metal. She would not have been surprised if it was.

Letting her eyes follow the motion of his hand made her eyelids heavy. As curious as she was about his drawing, she just could not keep her eyes open.

Mumbling softly, she said, "I can't sit back and do nothing. Not while there's anything I could do. So, just… let me do this. I'll be fine. I know how to--"

The rough scrape of paper against her legs perked her up as Turbo shoved the sketchbook back into her lap and the pencil clattered to the floor. When she opened her eyes, squinting through the sleepy fog, she saw what she expected -- a geometrical contour drawing. However, as her eyes adjusted and she began to decipher the abstract figures, she saw something entirely unexpected.

Flowers.

Confusion was her first response. Why flowers? Turbo was hardly a flowery guy, much less one to give flowers.

Then she remembered their prior conversation. The prize flowers. The ones the loser had to pick.

She looked at him, lips parted, brows squinting, in some attempt to understand. He was not looking at her, but rather, glancing around at nothing in particular, tapping his leg.

"I don't--..." she muttered. "Why?"

He grunted, and then barely opened his mouth to grumble, "...Not that many options for flowers in here."

"Well-- well yeah, but…" she looked at the page. "What did I win?"

He shrugged and shook his head. "I'unno, pick something. You're definitely the best at what you're doing. No one else could help me the way you are. And you've gotten so much done. Like, a crazy amount. So, you won. You've earned a break."

Mavis was so thrown for a loop, she almost felt dizzy. The sweet gesture, the sweet words… they were not a common occurrence for him. Granted, they had been growing in frequency ever since the two were reunited, but still…

"I…" she fumbled. "I wasn't competing. I just wanna win you a way outta here."

Turbo rubbed his face. "I cant believe how much convincing it's taking to get you to go goof off."

"...Things are a bit different now."

"I know."

"You want me to go out there and play around the way I used to? The way we used to, together?" Her words proceeded slowly, quietly, and unsteadily, as if they were fragile. A sort of grief weighed down on her heart. "It just… doesn't�� feel the same anymore. Even if I tried, I'd just… be thinkin' of you."

He sighed deeply. 

She added sadly, shoulders sinking, "Nothin's been the same since I… thought you were gone."

"But I'm here now," he mumbled. "I'm back."

"I know, but… I need you… back. In my life. Again. For real."

Turbo fell silent, but as Mavis studied the crisp lines of the drawing in her lap and idly scratched her foot, she could practically hear words sitting just behind his lips. He was taking his time with them, and she gave him space to do so, mostly because she was almost afraid of what he would say next. What she was about to feel.

Finally, he spoke in a slow, soft voice, “Mav…”

Reluctantly, she looked at him. He had an elbow propped up on his knee, his hand buried in his hair as he leaned his forehead against his palm. His eyes gazed straight ahead into the dim light from the arcade that washed a blue tone over his skin, making the gold glow of his heavy-lidded eyes burn bright in contrast.

She swallowed. “T…?”

He took in a breath through his lips, sat with it, closed his eyes, and let words flow on the exhale. “You remember what I said… that night… about never wantin’ to make you… miserable?”

Mavis’ heart grew tight and heavy at the memory. That night. The last time they spoke before he…

“Yes,” she breathed, not taking her eyes off him.

“And how I said… I’d actually try to keep that from happening?”

“...Yeah.”

He shrugged, flexing his fingers in his hair. “This is… me doin’ that. I’m just tryin’ to keep my word, Mav.”

“Turbo,” she said, gently but firmly squeezing his shoulder, “you’re not making me miserable.”

He looked her plain in the eye. “Tonight’s the first I’ve heard ya laugh in four days.”

She froze. That fact stunned her. That could not have been true, but she had obviously not been keeping track. Had Turbo been keeping track?

In response to her silence, he nodded a bit. “Yeah… Yeah. Doesn’t sound like Make-it Mavis, does it?”

Mavis did not know what to say. Slowly, her gaze fell. Her emotions were too crowded to move in any one direction, but she felt shame begin to simmer in the pit of her stomach. Somehow, she felt that she had done something wrong -- and not in a fun way. She had been trying so hard to help him… but did she just let him down? Did she let herself down?

Turbo took notice of her conflict. He twisted a bit to place his hand on the side of her neck and coax her jaw to tilt up again. “Hey, Mav,” he almost whispered, “don’t be like that. You’ve done good. Really good. It’s… kinda insane actually. It’s very obvious how dedicated you are to-- to helpin’ me, but… workin’ to the point of this, is just… It ain’t you, Mav. It just ain’t you. And I…”

His words caught, and Mavis could see his face clearly wrestling the words. With a bit of a bonk, he rested his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I need you in my life, too… for real.”

It seemed to Mavis that all the heat in her body rushed to her face. Her chest quivered, scrambling for any words to push out, and coming up empty.

Turbo continued anyway, “So, y’know, if you really wanna help me… take… care of yourself, and… stay yourself. Okay?”

Hard memories crashed into the back of her head, memories from the darkest time of her life. She heard echoes of a promise she had made to his memory, a promise that was, in all sincerity, one she made to herself.

She caved.

“Okay,” she nodded slightly.

As he opened his eyes, their glow nearly strained her own. Slowly, his cheeks lifted in a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighed hoarsely through her own rueful grin. “You’re right. I need a break. And I’ll take it.”

A truly exhausted sigh of relief washed over her face as he leaned back to give them both some breathing room. “Thank the Devs, finally,” he laughed airily. “Y’stubborn lil’ mule, ya won’t even listen to me when I tell ya to do stuff you wanna do!”

She laughed too, “I’m doin’ it now, jackass!”

“Yeah, just as I started to wonder how much rope I had left ‘til I’d reach the end!”

“Look, I know I’m too good at what I do, so I’ll try my best to get just a little worse,” she smiled, leaning out of his touch. “I’ll play hooky for a week, for starters. And I’ll do…”

“Whatever the hell you want?” he guessed, glancing down his grinning cheek at her.

“I’ll do my damn best, anyway. I would love to at least get some pranks in… I think the sprites out there have had it too easy since I, uh, mysteriously stopped.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, giving a long nod. “That there’s a problem, too. Gotta keep up appearances, Mav. Sprites will know something’s up if you’re suddenly so well behaved that they can leave pies coolin’ on sills.”

“Or balcony doors open.”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “You have not said anythin’ about Gene for ages. When’s the last time ya pranked that guy?”

Unable to remember, she said, “Well, I think I can get him pretty good this weekend. He’s hostin’ someone’s stupid birthday-- I think it’s, uh, Norwood’s, the guy with the cats--”

“PussyMagnet69?”

Mavis’ throat nearly ripped from the size of her surprise cackling.

Turbo joined in, insisting, “That was his name, Mav! How could ya forget?!”

Through tears, she wheezed, “Okay, okay-- But seriously-- I think if I can get in the penthouse early enough-- and I can-- I can switch all his clear alcohol with vinegar--”

Turbo was already keeling into his lap.

She continued, nearly shouting over his laughter, “Then I can make it a party no one will ever forget, and I can make off with a whole buttload of booze!”

Snorting, Turbo threw himself upright again, his hair flying haphazardly. “No, no, you gotta stay at least long enough to see the looks on their faces--” “Well, obviously--”

“And then remember ‘em really well and draw ‘em all out so I can see ‘em too! Damn, why do I gotta miss that?”

“Hey,” she laughed lowly, pushing his shoulder. “I’ll bring ya the drawings, and I’ll bring ya the booze, and then we can get flat out wasted n’ go as wild as this box can-- Well, uh--”

She had forgotten to ask something. Turbo looked at her quizzically.

“I mean, uh,” she said quietly, still managing to hold a smile, “you’ll let me in, right? Am I-- Am I allowed to come back here… on vacation?”

Turbo almost looked stricken, and after a moment’s thought that betrayed a bit of anxiety in his eyes, he said, “Well… obviously. Don’t feel like you gotta or anythin’, though. I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need a babysitter. But, y’know, if you really wanna come over, you can.”

Mavis’ shoulders dropped and half a scoff slipped out of her. “Of course I wanna hang out with you. Y’kiddin’ me, T?”

For a second, he gave her an uncharacteristically warm half-smile. He chuffed a bit. “Arright,” he said, twisting to open his arms to her and gesture inward. “C’mere. Bring it in.”

Forcing an eye-roll that was ruined by her smiling face, she scooted right up and wrapped her arms around his torso, and he hugged back tightly. The closeness felt so well-needed, as if she were touch-starved without realizing. Surely, they had still been touching over the last little while… but this was the first time she felt present for it in days. She hummed appreciatively, resting her chin over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he sighed, smugness creeping into his voice as he rubbed her back, “should’a known I couldn’t shake ya. After all, I am your lifelong obsession, ain’t I?”

She groaned. “Turbo…”

“It’s kinda creepy, there, Cherry Bomb. Takin’ advantage of the fact that I don’t got a game to get ya banned from.”

“Like I could even get through the barricade here without your help,” she considered. “Or without dynamite, but, y’know. I’d hate to have to build it again.”

Turbo just chuckled. He buried his face against the side of her neck and let out a deep, hot sigh through his nose that sent a tiny wave of goosebumps over her skin. She held him tight, soaking in the exceptional heat from his skin. At times such as this, memories would flood in from the time she believed she had lost him, and her chest would glow with incredulous, almost painful gratitude to have him back.

Mavis chewed her lip for a moment, possessed by the emotion growing in her body. She tucked her head in, the bridge of her nose pressed against his collarbone. Sweetly, sadly, she mumbled, “Y’know I miss you, T. I miss havin’ a friend out there.”

His hand thumped softly against her shoulder blade. “...Yeah. I know, Mav,” he muttered. He then turned his head until his face was in her hair, his mouth angled just behind her ear. She could feel his lips move as he said, “I’m pretty lucky to have a friend in here.”

Heart aching, Mavis pulled back to look him in the face. He just looked thoughtful, meeting her gaze with a bit of a squint. “Seems like whatever luck I’ve had since this mess started has had somethin’ to do with you. How’d that happen? Once upon a time, you were the biggest pain-in-the-ass problem child in my life.”

A small laugh blew from her throat, half warm, half naughty. “Things are different now… and you forget I’m a good-luck-charm Easter Egg.”

Turbo chuckled, and his eyes dropped to her mouth as a hand snaked behind her head. “Whatever you say.”

She drew closer, her eyes closing with an airy, snarky chuckle. “But I’m still a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t I know it,” he breathed, before his lips made contact with hers. 

She kissed back gladly, folding her knees and bringing them up close as she let the comforting warmth in her face and chest slowly spread throughout her body. The kiss did not break, only deepened, and after his hands tugged under the crook of her legs, she found herself grabbing his shoulders and gracefully moving to straddle his lap. All she wanted was to be closer, to hold him as flush against her body as she could, and it was a sentiment he clearly returned. His rough hands roamed over her slender curves, clenching fistfuls of her shirt and letting his fingers skirt beneath the fabric. As her head and body began to buzz with all-too-neglected excitement, she broke away from his mouth to kiss a trail down to his neck and happily nip at the salty skin there.

For a few moments, Turbo merely squeezed her hip bones in appreciation and uttered naught but a few shivery sighs, but Mavis soon noticed that he was a bit too still and quiet. No sooner had she noticed than Turbo leaned his head into hers a bit, ducking his face down.

“I will get out of here,” he whispered insistently. “I swear I will.”

Mavis paused before pulling back to look at him. He did not look sad, no -- he just looked determined. There was a fire in his eyes that made him look unstoppable, like nothing could possibly hold him back from taking his place in the world again. She believed it fully.

“I know you will,” she muttered back. “And I’ll be there.”

He scoffed a bit. “And then? Then I’ll get ya some real flowers. Call those ones over there a placeholder.”

Mavis twisted a bit to look at the sketchbook she had tossed to the floor, the graphite lines softly illuminated from the light shining through the socket.

“Hm,” she hummed. “Don’t bother. These ones are better.”

When he laughed briefly, she looked back at him to see a lopsided grin that flashed his pointed teeth. “Okay, princess, how about this? Whatever kingdom I end up ruling--”

“Ruling, huh?”

He ignored her and continued, “I’ll program a room just for you, and then I’ll draw flowers on the walls like a gap-toothed madman, and I’ll make ‘em so Dev-damned bright and colorful and horrendously ugly that no one could spend more than five minutes in there without gettin’ a migraine.”

Mavis laughed, clapping his shoulder a bit. “See, now that sounds perfect. Seriously. Please do that. That’s so much better than flowers.”

Turbo’s eyes narrowed as his grin grew. “Consider it done.”

“Now,” she wrapped her arms behind his neck, leaning her forehead against his. “Will ya please go back to bein’ a jerk for a while? All this sweetness and thoughtfulness, it--” she dropped into her roughest, most unflattering Turbo impression, complete with bad accent, “‘it ain’t like you.’”

Turbo’s brows shot upward, and he sputtered through a wild grin. “Ooh, okay, smart-mouth,” he said, cracking his neck and knuckles. “Ya wanna get reacquainted? Let’s get reacquainted.”

With that, he seized her by the ribs and roughly yanked her in, lunging for her neck like a snake. As his teeth sank in, Mavis’ short yelp of pain and surprise turned into thrilled, dirty, self-satisfied laughter. The mushy stuff was finally over. It was time to have fun again.

Mavis was still unsure of how effective her little vacation would be, but as far as she was concerned, she was off to a pretty good start.

[goddessofthundathighs]

Hoe Ass Erik: The House Special, Pt. 2

Ok so let me start by saying that this WAS NOT supposed to be a thing. You all can blame @panthergoddessbast & @readmywrites for this train wreck, okurr?

Pairing: MIT Erik x Black OCs

Warning: Gather your pearls darling, because this is FILTH!

Word Count: 1,686

“Texting your little boyfriend again?” Erik asked, caressing Henny’s calf muscles as her legs rested in his lap. The two had spend the day lazily curled up on the couch eating pizza and watching Death Note on Netflix.

“Yeah, he’s being weird,” she admitted, still looking down at her phone.

For the last few days Ares had been distant with her, not returning any of her phone calls and turning down all of her offers to hang out.

“He better not be tryna ghost you, that's all I know,” Erik said poking out his chest. Regardless of how things got between the two, she was his best friend first and he'd be damned if anyone hurt her. Besides him of course.

A rough knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Erik answered, expecting it to be one of Henny’s clients, but smirked devilishly when he saw it was Ares.

“Ayo Shy, ya little boyfriend here,” he called over his shoulder, stepping back to let Ares in.

“Whatever nigga,” Ares said, pushing past Erik.

“Can you give us a moment please, E?” Henny asked sensing the tension in the room.

“You got it Princess. I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he says back, leaving the pair alone in the living room.

“You fucking that nigga?” Ares growled as soon as Erik left the room.

Hennessy was taken aback. Before she could fix her mouth to answer, Ares held up his phone, playing the voicemail she’d left him last Saturday night. She was mortified when she heard her moans mixed with the vulgar things Erik was saying to unravel her.

“Ares, I’m so—“

“Save it,” he replied, cutting her off. “I’m tired of this back and forth shit babygirl. You gotta make a choice, either me or him.”

I know you fucking lying!

“You’re joking, right?” Shy asked, struggling to hold back a laugh.

Ares squared his shoulders and tightened his jaw.

“I’m not seeing the joke here, Hennessy.”

“The joke is you, Ares. You expect me to choose between top tier, premium grade dick and a dick I haven’t even seen yet?” She cackled loudly. You would think that dealing with Erik would’ve taught Hennessy about underestimating nerdy guys with nice bodies, but obviously not. Ares grabbed her by her throat and pinned her against the front door, effectively rendering her speechless.

“Well looks like just you’re gonna have to have us both, Princess,” he sneered.

Henny’s eyes widened when she saw Erik re-enter the room in nothing but his grey sweats, and a pair of handcuffs in hand.

“Starting without me, Res?” He asked, raising one eyebrow.

“My bad, E. That smart ass mouth of hers got the best of me,” Ares responded, still gripping her throat.

Hennessy was a heady combination of confused and turned on. Though she had fantasized about both of these big ass niggas ravaging her insides on several occasions, she never thought to bring it up to either of them due to their macho, alpha male egos.

“You know you talk a lot in your sleep, Princess,” Erik says, noting the confusion on her face. “You’ve been wanting this for a while now and we’d be terrible boyfriends if we didn’t deliver what our lady desired.”

Hennessy’s entire body went numb. Ares, still gripping her by the throat, switched their positions so that he was now against the door and lowered her to her knees.

“Gimme my arch, mama,” Erik says creeping up behind her. She wasted no time maneuvering herself into his favorite position. He took her wrists in one hand and cuffed them behind her back. Ares lowered himself so that he was crouching in front of her on the floor.

“You once told me if you got the chance, you’d slurp me like some ramen noodles,” He recalls, undoing his pants. “Well show me how well you can slurp,” he says as his dick springs from confinement. Hennessy’s mouth watered at the sight. She wasn’t given time to properly appreciate the sight in front of her before he was stretching her throat to capacity. He fucked her face with a vengeance, reveling in the fact that her smart ass mouth was good for other things. Just as she was finding her rhythm, she felt Erik’s hand creep up her skirt. She immediately regretted her decision of not wearing panties as his thick tongue circled her clit. Her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

“Nah babygirl,” Ares cooed. “Keep them eyes on me and don’t make me tell you again.”

Hennessy was sure that she was drowning Erik with her juices because hearing Ares speak to her like this made her incredibly wet. Lost in the feeling of having both her throat and pussy simultaneously stimulated, Henny’s ass began to drop slightly. Just as she began to grind her pussy on Erik’s face, she felt two harsh slaps on her ass.

“Lift that ass up!” They yelled in unison. Henny groaned at the sound of both of her favorite men asserting their dominance over her. She locked eyes with Ares and began taking him deeper in her throat, letting him indulge in her lack of a gag reflex. Her moans increased in volume as she felt something cold and wet enter her unexplored hole. While his tongue danced in her wetness, Erik pushed the anal plug deeper into her uncharted territory, twisting it gently. Her ministrations faltered slightly as she adjusted to the new sensation, but she quickly bounced back, sucking Ares off with a newfound vigor. She could tell he was close by the way his teeth gnawed at his bottom lip. She allowed him to slip out of her mouth briefly before turning her attention to his balls, taking them both in and out of her mouth with a loud ‘pop’! She quickly took him back in her mouth, feeling his dick throb as she swallowed him back down.

“Fuck Hennessy!” Ares roared as he released himself down her throat. She smirked to herself as she watched her black Greek god come undone under her ministrations.

“You think you hot shit, huh?” Erik asked, removing his mouth from her throbbing clit and the plug from her ass. “It’s cool though. I got something for that ass,” he says, slamming himself into her newly stretched hole. He pulled her onto her knees and continued thrusting into her, placing soft kisses along her jawline. Ares’s lips find hers as Erik continued his assault on her asshole. She released a strangled moan against his lips as he reached down between their bodies to massage her g-spot.

“You good, baby?” Ares asks, laying on his back and positioning her over his member. “I feel her tightening up around my fingers.” Ares swaps his fingers for his dick, pushing her all the way down so that he touches her g-spot. She mewls at the sensation of having both of her holes stretched to capacity. He slowly thrusts himself into her, allowing her to suck her essence from his fingers.

“I think he asked you a question, Monae,” Erik purred as he slowed his strokes to sync with Ares. Hennessy couldn’t think straight, let alone answer anybody’s questions. Her mind had gone to Wonderland with no signs of returning anytime soon.

“What’s the matter, Princess? Why you so quiet?” Ares asked, gripping her hips to grind her down on him. She wanted to respond, she really did, but the way these niggas were ravaging her body had her at a loss for words and she really didn’t care about the consequences.

“You don’t wanna talk to us, babygirl? That’s fine with me. But if you cum, that’s ya ass,” Erik hissed. As if on cue, they both began pounding into her like the filthy little cumbag she was. Her legs began shaking violently, a dead giveaway that her orgasm was close. The duo continued until she was just about to crest and simultaneously pulled out of her, causing her to almost hit the floor.

“You tired, mama?” Ares teased, lifting her from the floor and slamming her back down on his shaft. Her arms snaked around his neck and he pounded into her with slow, deep strokes.

“Oh God!” she screamed, as her stomach began to tighten again.

“That’s right, I’m your God,” Ares tutted. “Say that shit again, Princess.”

“You’re my God!”

“And you worship this dick!”

“And I worship that dick! Fuck me!” she screamed.

Feeling her nearing her end, Ares pulled her off and draped her torso over the kitchen counter. The cool granite against her breasts in her thin t-shirt sent chills down her spine as Erik entered her slickness from behind.

“Arch that shit!” Ares barked, stroking himself at the sight of Hennessy’s disheveled state. Her throat was raw from all the screaming she was doing, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Her lovers had brought her deepest darkest fantasy to fruition and had made the experience more than memorable.

She looked back at Erik with hooded eyes.

“Daddy, please,” she whimpered.

“Please what babygirl?” He asked, gripping a fistful of her messy curls.

“Can I cum, please, Daddy Erik?” she whined.

“Nah, hold that shit,” Ares responded before thrusting himself into her mouth.

Every nerve in Hennessy’s body was on fire. Sex with Erik had always been amazing, but adding Ares definitely heightened the sensation. When she felt both of their thrusts becoming sloppy, Henny went into overdrive. She started throwing her ass back against Erik while taking all of Ares down her throat.

“You close, mama?” Erik asked, struggling to keep his composure.

She vigorously shook her head ‘yes’.

“Come on then, Princess,” Ares purred. “We right behind you.”

Guttural groans and shrill screams filled the air as the trio came in unison. Erik removed the cuffs from Henny’s wrists, massaging them to relieve the tension. Both men helped clean her up before tucking her into bed. As they made their way back to the living room, Ares paused and looked at Erik.

“You think we should tell her about the dream she had about the greenhouse?”

TAG LIST: @vibranium-soul @imagine-mbaku @mareethequeen @greennightspider @eriknutinthispoosy @hearteyes-for-killmonger @bartierbakarimobisson @blackpantherismyish @muse-of-mbaku @shesfromwakanda @thehomierobbstark @wifeyofnjadaka @youreadthatright @tgigoldie @killmongersgurl @killmongerthiskoochie @dameshaemonique @princessstevens @princesskillmonger @thickoreo @amethyst1993 @iamrheaspeaks @laketaj24 @bidibidibombaclaat @allhailnjadaka @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @forbeautyandlife @yaachtynoboat711 @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @dacreskars @sonofnjobu @thadelightfulone @drsunshine97 @wakanda-inspired @wawakanda-btch @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @ayellepea @awkwardlyabstract

[chokefriends]

Pit-town Strays, Ch.5

Kidlaw softness and redneck shenanigans in a northern mining town. Everything’s fucked but whatever.

Rated T, no warnings. Ch 5: Law explores his escape routes but knows he isn’t going anywhere.

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4��- [Ch. 5]

Read on Ao3 too, I’m Ossicle

Law was still staring at the same channel when Bellamy and Dellinger returned an hour later. Law heard them rumble up, and muted the sound to signal the all-clear.

“Fish tacos for Bellamy, gross curry for Law,” Dellinger unpacked their takeout onto the coffee table and dug into his own.

“Thanks,” Law muttered, but didn't get up from the armchair.

“Uh,” Bellamy pointed furtively to Law's arm. The wrist was purpling.

“Shit…” Law pulled his sleeve down over it and hooked his thumb through a hole in the hem. “Whatever. Whacked it on a thing.”

Bellamy stayed standing for a minute, scuffing a toe into the carpet. “Dad’s been worried a lot, is all,” he tried eventually.

“Yeah I know,” Law answered in the same tone.

“Y’know, cuz of this one,” Bellamy jabbed his thumb at the smallest of the three and shook his head.

“...”

The blunt face creased irritably at Law's silence, and Bellamy gave up. He sat down with a grunt to tear into his own takeout box.

“Dellinger,” he grouched at the only other target in the room, “Stop tryna reconstruct the squid, just eat it. God, can you not be such a psychopath? You're making everyone upset—”

“Bellamy.” Law cut him off with a warning look. “He's right here, don't say that.”

Dellinger seemed unperturbed, but very little ever seemed to bother him. “Actually, ‘psychopath’ is not even a thing anymore? And I don't fit the criteria according to this online test I took.”

“Psycho,” Bellamy accused.

“Not!”

Law rose with a sigh and went to sit between them on the couch. “What’d you get, Del.”

“Tentacles,” Dellinger showed him his seafood, with all the squid pieces collected in a little squidlike arrangement.

“Huh. Looks better than the frog leg thing, I guess.”

“That was just an experiment. I wasn't gonna eat it,” Dellinger rolled his eyes. “I saw online that the legs move by themselves if you put em in a saltwater solution. I just wanted to try.”

“That's pretty cool,” Law reassured him.

Bellamy scoffed. “That he's killing off all the pondlife around here? Yeah it's great.”

“I’m not even killing em, just snipping off their extra legs! Most of the frogs here have like three legs and four eyes anyway. Or more, closer you get to the Pit. It's the runoff.”

“Huh… Wonder if it'll start morphing humans too,” Law mused.

“Prolly just gives humans cancer.” Dellinger gave it some thought. “You think human legs could move by themselves?”

“Only one way to find out,” Law joked.

Bellamy gave a sudden snort of disgust, picked up his dinner, and disappeared off to his room. The door thunked shut and Nickelback started blaring through it.

Law ignored all this, but Dellinger looked at the closed door in confusion, then went back to stirring his food and fidgeting. They ate in silence for a while.

“I don't wanna make people upset,” the skinny kid spoke up eventually.

Law nodded, still chewing, but didn't respond right away.

Dellinger speared a tentacle and frowned at it. “I don't think it hurts them for real. And it's not like Dad or anyone even cares about frogs. Bellamy thinks it's funny to run them over…”

“I think they're worried about how it'll look to other people,” Law explained.

“Other people are stupid.”

“Yeah,” Law agreed. “Anyway, just stick to animals with extraneous appendages. And don't take any more experiments to school.”

“It’s not like I'm gonna take the legs off people's pets or whatever. Geez. It's just frogs…” Dellinger sighed and got up to go to bed as well. His room was way upstairs on the second floor, where Bellamy and Law used to sleep when they were younger.

“Take your plate,” Law reminded him automatically.

“Why does everybody always tell me what do do… I hate it.” He started to go upstairs.

“Dellinger, take your fucking plate.”

“You take it.”

“You wanna get in trouble with Dad?” Law warned him, “You're not a baby anymore, just clean up your shit.”

“You're supposed to do all that.” Dellinger shot back, hanging off the bannister and pouting.

“I'm supposed to fucking what now?”

“Well, I'm not the one who gets in trouble when stuff's not clean. You're here to take care of us, or you have to go back to the reservation, right?”

Law's eyebrows flew up in disbelief, and then creased in anger. “I'm not fucking ‘on loan’ from wherever; I'm your fucking brother!”

Bellamy shouted from behind his closed door, “Dellinger! Take your plate upstairs or I swear to god your psycho ass is getting shipped to foster care!!”

Dellinger stomped his way upstairs instead, leaving his dinner behind.

Law snorted and sat back with arms crossed. He was going to storm off to his own room too, but he kept looking back at the leftover tentacles sticking up obscenely from the styrofoam container. He made a noise of muffled rage and threw the entire thing in the trash. There. Jesus... Now at least he wouldn't get any bruises that he hadn't fucking earned himself.

His phone buzzed.

Kidd: Where the fuk r the bandaids, u let nami use em all?

Law stared at the screen for a moment, head starting to pound, then fired back:

You: I don't fyckig know where the band-aids are im not your fucking housekeeper and I don't got any control over your shitass kid for CHRIDT SAKE

The phone buzzed again but Law flicked the notification away.

He brought up Baby's number instead and escaped outside into the darkness and silence. She didn't pick up at first and he had to call back a few times, as usual. By the time she picked up, he'd gotten himself hidden away in the passenger side of the Volvo with the seat leaned all the way back.

Baby sounded cogent but irritable. “Geez, you got Buff thinking I got another man,” she complained.

“‘Buff’ is a stupid name.” Law massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Not as stupid as ‘Buffalo,’” she sighed.

“Jesus, his parents actually named him that?”

“Yeah, they hippies.”

Law snorted. “Native hippies?”

“It's a thing.”

Law licked his lips and tried to think of what to say next, but his throat felt tight.

Baby prompted him, “Well, what up, big brother. You want a ride somewhere?”

“That's not the only reason I ever call you.”

“Haha… little bit.”

Law swallowed a surge of guilt. “Sorry. I’ve been kinda stretched thin these days—”

“Yeah I know. Big man, you. Important stuff to do.”

“I wanna see you more, though. You ever think about that thing we were talking about before? Getting mom and dad's old place back? Where we all lived before they got sick…”

Baby took a moment to answer. “Heh… I see it sometimes, when I'm driving around here.”

Law smiled. “Yeah? So how's rez life treating ya.”

“It's chill. I dunno, small. It's weird sometimes, even jus trying to like, hang with people. You know? They think I'm after something, I guess…”

“Probably just takes time.” Law reassured her. “Probably once we're both living there again and people get used to us—”

She interrupted, “Law, you don't actually think you'll end up here, right?”

“Why not?”

Baby always did that little huff thing when she had something to say. She did it twice and then put on her stern voice. “Like, what would you even do on the rez. There's no sushi, no fancy little coffee shops, and the first time you get too smart you'll get your perfect teeth all knocked down.”

“‘Knocked out,’” he corrected under his breath. “And what, you think I can't handle myself?”

“You don't wanna be here, is what I'm saying. You're too used to that whole life.”

“What whole life.”

“You know what I mean,” Baby sniffed. “Suburbia. Sunday brunch. Sunscreen…”

“That stuff’s not…! I’m not… You think I wanted to get adopted white??” Law challenged.

“Least you got adopted.”

Law had had enough. “Well, it's been a super load off my chest talking to ya, baby sister.”

“Don't get sarcastic with me,” she snapped.

“Give Buffy my bestest,” he continued.

“It’s ‘Buffalo.’”

He scoffed. “Sure. Also, he's our first cousin on mom's side.”

“He's wh—?!!”

Law hung up with a petty little burst of triumph. The feeling didn't last long, though.

“Shit…”  

He sat there kicking at the glove box and letting his anger ebb away into shame. There was a black marker in the center console, and he took up his little dot-decorations again, this time on the sleeve of his hoodie. He circled and filled in wandering patches until his foggy head had cleared and he could look at his phone again.

I do wanna see you more, he texted to Baby, who didn't reply.

Law sighed and moved on to the results of the outburst just before that one. He clicked back into the convo with Kidd, expecting harsh words.

That bad eh, Kidd had replied simply to Law's rant.

Law snorted. He tapped the phone icon and waited.

“G’day,” came the wry answer.

“The fuck you need band-aids for now?” Law questioned him.

Kidd put on a tragic tone. “I got a boo-boo, man. I need that animal sticker magic.”

“Oh? What'd you do.”

“Punched a goose.”

Law laughed out loud, unexpectedly. “You fucking did not,” he put his feet up on the dash and tried not to sound like he was smiling.

“Yeah… well, it was beating up on this one poor dog chained up in a yard. Only dog on a leash in the whole place, seriously.”

“Your yard has a dog post in it too, right? Where'd that one go?” Law remembered the lonely post with the deep path tread around it.

“Oh… yeah, dad took her with him when he left last year—this German shepherd he got us as a present because he was always gone. She was supposed to keep us out of trouble, I guess, but she kept taking off and like, trying to herd coyotes or whatever, haha… He eventually chained her up in the yard and she just wore that circle into the ground every day.”

“That's so shitty,” Law shook his head.

“Yeah. I hope he took her somewhere she can run… anyway, whatever.” Kidd coughed, seeming to not wanna talk about it further.

“Yeah. Uh… So you defeated the goose, eh.”

“Hah! Not even—I had to get back on the bike and run for it! At least I drew it away from the dog.”

Law let himself laugh. “Yeah, aw, you saved it!”

Kidd laughed too. “I should've just let it off the leash. It probably would've fucked that goose up itself.”

“Well, I'll bring you animal band-aids next time I come.”

“Thanks. Uh.” Kidd paused. “So you're gonna come back?”

Law's lightened mood abruptly darkened again. He examined the purple patterns trailing from sleeve to skin—vivid and unbearably obvious. “Yeah, uh. Maybe not tomorrow, though...”

“No?”

“I got school stuff.”

“Oh, yeah. Day after?”

“Maybe the day after that…” Law evaded. He tried coloring in the dark blotches with marker, casting around for a topic to get away from this one. But Kidd seemed to read his silence anyway.

“Hey uh. You know you can just stay here? Whenever? However long,” Kidd offered.

“Uh.”

“And I don't mean as like, a live-in nanny thing either. You don't have to do anything. I don't think of you as a housekeeper.”

Law wanted to cringe away under the seat. “Nono, I don't actually think you think that! I was just lashing out about other stuff.”

“All the cleaning is kinda weird, tee-bee-aych.”

“I know. It's compulsive.”

“But you could just… stay,” Kidd emphasized again, like all this was simple.

Law stared off into the darkness beyond the windshield. He could imagine what it'd be like, sleeping with his head on a strong shoulder, breathing warmth, in a tiny house like a shoebox-nest full of other scuffed-up odds and ends. It sounded worlds better than fucking sunday brunch and sportscars…

“I don't think I can right now.”

“No, eh.”

“Anyway, I gotta get to sleep,” Law mumbled apologetically. “School tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Kidd switched back to whatever-mode.

“I'll text you, eh? When I'm thinking of coming over.”

“Yeah, sounds good, you got my number.”

“Yeah.”

Law hung up and sat there, chewing his lip and breathing the stuffy air of the Volvo. He could just drive to Kidd's right now. Just go. But then what, wear gloves? Invent some goose story of his own? No… he couldn't leave like this, at least not yet.

But he couldn't make himself go out of the car and back to the house either.

He let his mind wander through its worries and his hands perform their restless tasks, until his phone died and the marker ran out. Then he curled up in the passenger seat to sleep.

[cancerianprincess]

“I Do Care” (Part Two) Erik Killmonger x Reader

| Part One |

Inspiration: ‘Caretaker’ by DRAM feat. SZA

Description: The “Wakandan Bad Boy” might not be the best at expressing his feelings, but he can certainly show you better than he can tell you…

Warning: Language; Mild Sexual Implications

A/N: Okay sooo, I know I said in the previous part that this one would be more “exciting” but I kinda got carried away with the story concept, and well...long story short there’s gonna be a Part Three 🤷🏾‍♀️ but that’ll be the last and final part I promise !! In the meantime though, I hope y’all enjoy this continuation as much as the first part !

****

Taking in the sight ahead, you found yourself standing inside the master bathroom, which was being illuminated by an abundance of creme colored candles lined up along the back of the sink and toilet.

Continuing the inspection, your eyes fell on the tub that had been prepared with a luxurious bubble bath, and littered with red and pink rose pedals that trailed out into a pathway leading back to the spot where your feet were planted. Upon doing a double take, you now noticed a fancy towel lying on top of the closed toilet seat that was being weighed down by a single glass, a bottle of wine, and two perfectly rolled blunts accompanied by a lighter and ashtray.

Finally breaking the mild shock that currently held you captive, music from an unseen source suddenly filled your ears. As the sound of SZA’s vocals began reverberating throughout the room, you turned back to gaze at Erik, who was wearing a grin composed of satisfaction and relief.

“W-what is all this?”

Although your deductive reasoning skills were well beyond functional, you asked the question anyway, fishing for confirmation from the gorgeous man who had now made his way over to hug you lightly from behind.

“Well hopefully,” he began while simultaneously reaching for the hem of your hoodie currently enclosing your upper body, “It’s me proving you wrong.”

You instinctively raised your arms to allow Erik to remove the jacket and toss it into a random corner, revealing nothing but a bra underneath. While softly placing kisses on your shoulder, Erik’s hands traveled further south until they reached their destination and made to undo the button and zipper of your jeans. He went on to issue more instructions, this time with a low growl in his voice that caused your insides to involuntarily quiver.

“Shoes, baby girl.”

Knowing what he meant, you kicked out of your socks and shoes while trying to not completely fall apart under his touch. Proceeding with the task at hand, Erik continued peeling you out your clothes, rolling down both your pants and underwear together like they were one until they hit your knees. As you shimmied your bottoms the rest of the way down and stepped out of them, you felt strong and familiar hands travel back up your body and unclasp the last piece of clothing standing in the way of you being completely bare.

“Damn girl,” Erik uttered, now circling to face you. “Here I am tryna be all romantic and shit, but yo’ sexy ass making it real hard.”

He began drinking in your beauty with a lustful look in his eyes, looking you up and down as he slowly licked his lips. As if attempting to break out of some sort of trance, he give a quick shake of his head to rid himself of the lewd thoughts running through his mind.

You smacked your lips at the remark, rolling your eyes to avoid meeting Erik’s, but the heat rising to your cheeks failed you in trying to suppress the smile brought to your face by his flattery. Erik then extended a hand in your direction, assumingly to guide you over and help you into the bath, and said something that would only make you blush even harder.

“Man, if I don’t hurry up and get you in this damn tub, I’ma carry you back to the room and blow yo’ fucking back out.”

Having that comment hit your ears sent tingles down your spine, and to other places as well, so you hurriedly stepped over and accepted the assistance before Erik could act on the deed he’d just spoken of, especially since past experiences had proven that he was good on his word.

Climbing over the side and submerging yourself until the bubbles rested right at your collarbone, you winced as the temperature of the water hit your sore muscles, but began to relax almost immediately, deciding that you deserved to unwind after all your hard work.

Normally you wouldn’t let your companion get off so easily by allowing him to woo you with his gifts or charisma, but something about this occasion convinced you that indulging just the once wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t often Erik carried out his gestures to this degree, although he often showed his appreciation in other ways, so you decided to milk it for all it was worth and see where it led.

Coming down to your level, Erik perched himself on the edge of the tub and bent halfway over and grabbed you by your chin. Tilting your head back, he brought you up the rest of the way and finally closed the gap with a slow and seductive kiss. Much too soon for your liking, Erik broke the embrace and moved to whisper something in your ear.

“Just relax, baby. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

He then picked up one of the pearled blunts, placed it between your lips, and proceeded to light it. Taking a long pull, you happily complied and closed your eyes as you slid to lean against the back wall of the tub, currently feeling anything but rebellious. Now relishing peacefully in your surprise, silence fell upon your ears for about a minute or two before hearing the sounds of a cork popping, and liquid being poured as one type of glass clinked against another. While continuing to smoke on the therapeutic herb, you suddenly felt something nudge your shoulder, pulling your from your daze.

“Aye, big head, you gone scoot up and let me in or what?”

You opened your eyes and saw a delicious sight before you; Erik, looking even more dazzling in the low light of the candles, was now completely naked as well and holding a glass of wine. Not really giving you a chance to answer, or stare any longer at his chiseled form, Erik began to climb over the tub and wedge himself between you and the back wall.

“What?” He chuckled at the puzzled look on your face. “You ain’t think you were gone have all this to yourself, did you?” Erik quickly swapped the blunt between your fingers with the wine he’d just fixed, and took a long pull from it as well.

You turned around partially to face him. “Well, to be honest, yeah, I kinda did.” Taking a sip from your glass, you shot an eyebrow in his direction and watched for his next move. Erik gave a brief exhale and made to repeat the same process again before placing the blunt on the nearby ash tray and directing his attention back on you.

“Well, you thought wrong,” he said in minor imitation of you. “You said your piece before you left, so now it’s my turn to talk.” Placing his hands on both your shoulders, Erik turned you so that your back met his chest once again and proceeded to start massaging the masses of flesh and bones in his grasp.

“Look, babe,” he began, pausing to take another quick huff of the blunt as if trying to calm his nerves. “I ain’t do all this to try and get off easy with you. I did it ‘cause I want you to know I really thought about what you said some days ago.” You sensed him stiffen a bit, trying to find the right words to project his thoughts. Further enhancing your slightly intoxicated state, you sipped more of the wine as Erik went on with his dialogue.

“I guess the real reason I act so reckless at times is because I know you out there watching my back while we handling a job or somethin’. I knew that if anything ever went down, you would have my follow-up no matter what. You were this powerful and amazing girl who could take care of herself, so when shit started getting serious for us, I kinda had this feeling I could trust you to take care of me, too. Somewhere in there tho, it just kinda became a habit for me, knowing you could patch me up and I’d be good as new.”

Erik fell silent for a brief moment, gauging for any sort of sign from you as you played with the pedals floating atop the water.

“But you were right. I know if it was switched, and I had to see you hurt and wounded all the time, I’d lose my fucking mind. I wasn’t thinking ‘bout how all that rubs off on you, or how much you gotta suffer just to make sure I’m straight. That’s why I was so damn happy when you got home. I just knew you were leaving me when you walked out for that mission; that even when you finished it, you wouldn’t be back. And the worst part is, I wouldn’t know if you made it back safe, or if somebody had…”

His voice trailed off, causing you to whip back around to look at him. His eyes had darted off to the side, while his jaw visibly got tighter by the second. Hating to see him so frazzled by the image he’d created, you reached up to cup Erik’s jaw and started stroking his cheek lightly with your thumb.

Appearing to do the trick, Erik folded into your hand and almost instantly you felt some of his tension melt away, pulling him back to reality. It was a gesture you’d to come to learn that would often calm him whenever his mind started wandering down certain rabbit holes. Now peering into your softened expression, Erik brought his hand up to overlap the one you had hovering against his face.

“What I’m tryna say,” he started up again, “is that I know I was real wrong, and I’m real sorry for not thinking of you like I should’ve.

At that moment, Erik stretched his arm outside of the tub, and dove into a small crevice between it and the toilet. After some seconds of maneuvering, you saw him pull out the object of his retrieval, which was a sizable black box covered in suede. As you eyed the box, you couldn’t help but feel your heart begin to race a bit as you tried to think what could lie inside.

“This nigga and all his damn surprises,” you thought to yourself.

You rotated the rest of your body so that you were now resting on your knees, careful not to splash water on the floor. It was then you took notice again to the music and heard the sound of Drake’s “Fire and Desire” playing in the air now. Like it were meant to be his cue, Erik opened his mouth to talk again.

“Look I know I ain’t perfect, but if you accept this, then I swear I’ma always and forever put you first from here on out.”

He lifted the lid on the box, and as its contents came into view, you could feel your jaw involuntary drop because inside the case, laid a diamond studded necklace. The jewels danced and glimmered as light bounced off its reflective surface, and suddenly everything seemed to be a blur.

“That’s why I been pickin’ up so many extra jobs; to save up on the side so I could finally cop this for you.”

Your vision traveled back and forth from the jewelry and Erik, and you could see him awaiting any sort of response from you. While you were still reeling from astonishment, the Wakandan outlaw used the opportunity to seize the glass from your hand, setting it off to the side.

Erik removed the bedazzled chain from its wrappings, and set the box down on the opposite side of the bath.

“I actually started to get you a ring, but since you usually knocking niggas out all the time that probably wouldn’t be the best choice.” He undid the clamp and brought it forward to fasten around your neck.

“Still though, I figured if I was gone make you my ol’ lady then you needed to be some type of iced out, right?”

And all of a sudden, it was you who had been struck with realization. The necklace, his strange behavior in the past few weeks, the extra jobs, the grandiose surprise, what he’d said right after you had gotten home; it all made sense now. This was Erik’s way of working up to propose to you. Hooking the clamp in place at last, Erik adjusted it so that it sat just right against your skin as your widened eyes went to look him in the face.

“So wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait.” you stammered as a sly grin started spreading across his lips.

“But that means-”

“Yes?” He interjected.

“Are you really saying what I think you’re saying?”

Erik only threw his head back in laughter.

“Damn ma! I mean I will if I have to, but don’t tell me I gotta spell it out for yo’ smar-”

But he never got the chance to finish his sentence, because you cut him off mid-remark, leaping forward and sending your lips crashing into his with great force. Catching you by the small of your back, Erik returned your energy and kissed you back just as passionately. You two continued with the feverish lip-locking until both of you were forced to break apart for air. Erik touched his forehead to yours and glanced into your face.

“I want you to be mine, baby. All mine, all the time. Just say you will.”

You couldn’t help but smile from cheek to cheek as the words of confirmation rung in your ears.

“Hell yeah, I will!” You exclaimed in a delighted voice, and went to pull the sensational man before you back in for another kiss. At this point, any negative feelings or anger that previously plagued you had completely vanished. The only thing you felt now was complete admiration for your new fiance, and and increasing desire for him to alleviate the sexual tension that had been resonating with you since he had stripped you naked.

Determined to get what you wanted, you deepened the ongoing kiss by placing your arms on his shoulders and drawing him as close as you could. Picking up on your body language, Erik began to run his hands up and down your back until they at last found your ass cheeks and gave them a firm squeeze. Appreciating the action, you gracefully raised off your knees just enough to move and straddle yourself across his lower region.

You began grinding your hips against his now erect member as a reward, and synced your hips with the rhythm of the kiss. This time around, Erik was the one to initiated the separation, and spoke just above a whisper in a voice that was laced with the need to be buried inside you.

“So does this mean you done being mad at Daddy now?”

That familiar shiver crawled through you again, and prompted you to kiss a short trail up his jaw and to his ear where you nibbled around the area.

“Only if you give me what you promised before I got in.”

You pulled back and smiled wickedly, gauging for the instant when your words would resonate with him. But Erik needed no reminder, fully aware of the filthy activity he’d suggested earlier, and reflected your sinister look in return.

“Mmm,” he growled, “I was hoping you was gone say that.”

                                              End of Part Two

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