#she has been through so much hell and for what

[emacrow]

The villains had been 'mildly' concerned about their fellow villain, scarecrow by emacrow/creator

He haven't been to the annual monthly meeting in 6 months after his quiet muttering that how he beat The Mistress of Fear plotting by destroying her psychology.

Only for him to stumbled a bit in the door with a heavy limp, a marriage ring that was a gem bejeweled carved in the shape of pumpkin head on his ring finger, his scarecrow pants inside out, his jacket was missing, revealing several black and orange lipsticks marks and hickies on his shoulder, his sack mask has a new decoration of a childish scribble doodles of a ghost and a stitches of a carved pumpkin with glowing emerald eyes that was the Mistress of Fear symbols on the backside with his curly hair longer then it usually was, sneaky a bit out under the sack.

He look like someone who got their soul devoured in one go during a one night stand,

He ignored the obvious stares and snickering of each and every one of the guys watching him sit in his personal seat.

"So did you found what Mistress of Fear plotted against you, Scarecrow?" Harley was the speak first, a chuckle on how Scarecrow glared sent her way, fixing his mask.

"Oh, I think he found it alright." Penguin snickered.

"Fuck, now I owe Cat lady 1000 bucks."

"S-shut up! Scarecrow growled back if he wasn't struggling with his legs so much being weak in the knees.

"I still don't believe that The Mistress of Fear married this guy when she as tall as Killer croc and he like-." Riddler emphasize the height between Mistress and Scarecrow.

"He survived the other dozen times he fought her. Hell, Joker is still in the isolated cell for extend time after what she done to him the first fight, but seeing this. I can see she pretty much destroyed the poor guy to the point of bedrest." Bane spoke quietly, which cause the roar of laughter to begin in the meeting table.

"Bet she had many treats and tricks for our poor scarecrow to be walking like baby deer like that."

....

....

....

Jonathan wanted to blow up the entire meeting with his newly tested extreme fear toxic bomb so badly, but he held his anger and embarrassed down tight, considering half the thing they were gossiping were the truth.

They didn't have a clue what he went through personally.

He could barely hold a shiver trying to rise up his back after what was his honeymoon, along with learning some deep dark secrets Lilith had in her closet after he tried to snoop into.

Her endless, glowing green otherworldly filled of the damned souls that the soulshredder hoard closet that sucked him in for what felt like eternity when it was only 5 minutes in there before he passed out from terror.

No wonder she wasn't afraid inhaling the damn fear toxic when she had a goddamn portal to hell in her bedroom.

What he got forced into marrying her was to destroy her, but he was now playing against the unknown element that Lilith was a mistress of.

He doesn't want to remember the Training schedule she set upon him, but the lessons..

Oh the lessons of learning about fear essence in souls, Jonathan was drooling like he was starving for every single word that Lilith was speaking during that entire session, not cause his heart was skipping a beat with how she grin about a certain topic in fear or how his palms drench in sweat and face burning hotter then lava watching her show him a tiny water drop size of Fear essence in her hands.

He never was sexually attracted to anyone women or man, much less desire to touch or have affection for, but at that moment seeing that sparkle of flaming interest and desire in lilith's eyes showing him that made all the blood in his head went south for the first time in ever was the most embarrassing thing in his entire life.

He was fucked.. even literally in the sense.

Previous pt 1 link<- pt 3 link here<-

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I know I've written about Daryl x reader in a relationship, but I'm rewatching The Walking Dead and UGH I love him...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Taurus Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The perfect example of your marriage is that scene from Yellowstone at the bar. Here's the link. Warnings: Violence :)

・Yes, so you and Daryl have a very close relationship - it has taken you a long time to get to this point.

・But marriage meant you two would be staying together for life. And Daryl knew that. No one was taking you away from him.

・You two met at the very beginning; in the camp with Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, Andrea, Shane, Glenn etc.

・You abhorred Merle and gave him as much as you could - cussing him out, calling out his actions etc. You were always right but Merle was Merle.

・And you grouped Daryl with his brother; although he didn't say much.

・When Merle wasn't around, you actually got the time to see Daryl differently.

・He was really growing on you.

・You had no idea that he was wrestling with certain feelings as well.

・Your relationship was ... a slowburn to say the least. But you always looked out for each other. Made sure one another had enough food and water.

・There developed a constant between the two of you. Where one went, the other wasn't far behind. Especially when the group would split up

・You always found your way back to each other

・And yet, neither of you could see how much the other cared. Even though the whole group - even the new members - could see it.

・Though he comes off as rough and gruff to most, Daryl would have a soft spot for you. You’d be the only one who gets to see his gentler, more vulnerable side.

・

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Daryl was anxious all day, you even saw his hands shake before he saw it and shoved them in his pockets.

・You were worried; he never kept anything from you. Not even when you were just best friends.

・So you went to Carol, she shrugged her shoulders and gave you that knowing look. It calmed your own nerves down, because when Daryl is anxious; you are tenfhold.

・That night you were getting ready for watch, but a knock came at the door.

・It was Michonne.

"Hey, you wanna come in? I'm gonna start my shift soon but I can make us something tea?"

"It's okay, and don't worry about your shift; I have something for you to do."

"Oh okay, sure."

・You followed Michonne past the gardens, the crops and up to the doors of Alexandria and out into the nearby forest.

"We ugh, made sure the area was clear. You don't need to worry about a thing."

・She gave you one of her knowing smiles and you knew something was up...it made you nervous.

・Once Michonne disappeared, you heard the crunching of leaves.

・Quickly you whipped out your knife and swiped as you turned, only to be met by a large hand grabbing your arm.

"Thought I taught ya better than tha'" Daryl said, letting go of your arm and giving you a smile

"You did. I knew it was you. Heavy boots were giving me a heads up."

・It was then that you noticed his appearance; washed, with a clean black button up shirt, and a fresh pair of jeans.

・You quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this Dixon?"

Hesitating, Daryl rubbed the back of his neck with his calloused hand, eyes darting briefly to the ground before meeting yours.

“Been thinkin’,” he started, shifting his weight between one leg to the other. “’Bout us… and all the shit we've gone through...”

You stepped closer to him. Closing the gap. And your heart started pumping a whole lot faster.

"-You know I ain’t good with words,” he muttered in a low voice. “Specially ain’t good at all this… romantic stuff. But you—you’re the best thing...that has ever happened to me. Hell, you're the only thing that makes sense in this goddamn world.”

・Your cheeks started to redden but you let him talk

From his pocket, Daryl pulled out something small and clenched in his hand, his fingers trembling just slightly.

You let out a soft, "oh." Thinking this day would never come.

When he opened his hand, there it was—a simple, gold ring.

“I know it ain’t much,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's perfect," the tears had started to fall now. You didn't even notice you had begun to cry.

Daryl sniffed, not realising he had shed a few tears as well. "...I just want you to know… you’re my family now. Always have been.”

He held the ring out to you.

"I don't know how long we have in this world. But I know I wanna spend it with you."

There was a moment of silence. One you let hang in the air, not truly believing this was happening.

"So… what d’ya say?”

・The look on his face was pure and full of love.

"God I love you Daryl Dixon."

・Slipping the ring on your finger, you realised how comfortably it fit. You gave Daryl a knowing look and he gave you a sheepish one.

"...measured your finger when you were sleepin'...also had help from Carol..."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"You know I'm getting you one, right? I want everyone to know you're taken. That Daryl Dixon is mine."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

・Then he kissed like it was your very first and last kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever felt—raw, deep, and so full of emotion that it left you breathless. His lips claimed yours with an intense passion.

His hands trembled slightly, and cradled your face. Holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world; well, to him you were.

Pulling apart, he rested his forget against your own and whispered:

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

In that moment, the world outside could have crumbled, and it wouldn’t have mattered. All that existed was you and him.

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Being married to Daryl Dixon meant having someone completely and utterly loyal to you.

・He calls you his family; and when he does so, you know it comes from a place of deep sincerity and respect.

・Instead of grand romantic displays, Daryl shows his love in quiet ways, like fixing something for you, preparing food, or just staying by your side during tough times.

・Daryl would be the ultimate protector, keeping you safe at all costs.

・You have your own place together. Not too far from everyone but secluded enough that you feel independent

・A common part of your nightly routine is cuddling up together on the couch and eventually falling asleep. (Daryl already having locked all the doors and has weapons around the house - just in case. He's not leaving anything to chance.)

・You've both shared everything you know about survival with one another.

・One of your ideas was to make a book about it. How to survive in this mess of a world; Daryl has fully encouraged it. He said it would come in handy for the next generations...

・Daryl thrives in the quiet moments of your marriage—sitting together by a fire, riding his motorcycle with you behind him, working on something side by side in comfortable silence.

・He also has a way of surprising you with such tenderness. E.g., brushing hair from your face or resting his forehead against yours in silent appreciation.  

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Look at that stupid dumbass man, ha! Oh shit that's my dumbass-" (Daryl)

Short & bossy x Tall & follows them around

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

"Why Are You Babying Me?" (Daryl) x "'Cause I Know You Like It" (You)  

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Forced Proximity

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

Enemies to Lovers  

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Sex On Fire by Kings of Leon

Into My Arms by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

One More Hour by Tame Impala

[revelboo]

Has anyone told you today you are one of the best blogs to be found this side of the sun? Cause you sure as hell are. Also I cry every time at TFP Starscream being called a "turkey" cause omg he looks like one 😂 (thats also a nickname I got a lot as a kid xD A varient of "goober" lol) Also glad you are starting to upload some of these to Ao3 cause tumblr can be kinda hard to find things on xD especially with longer things. Also as a Optimus lad im falling over myself for you OP stuff, I eat everyting up between Op stuff and eagerly await TFA Op again (whenever you get the vibe to at least)

He’s definitely one of my favorite iterations of Optimus! Still serious, but not as jaded and so burned out, much more willing to smile still

Broken Heart Pt 3

TFA Optimus x Reader

• Always uncomfortable picking up and carrying Sari because of how fragile she is, you're no better. Can feel your heart beating against his servos, but where Sari is bold and fearless, you're less certain and almost timid in his hands. Glancing up at his face again and again as he carries you cradled to his chassis. Do you feel pressured to go with him? Is that it? He hadn't meant to make you feel like you had no choice. "Are you sure you don't need a human medic?" Reaching a servo to touch your forehead and the little cut there, he’s uncomfortably aware of the discolored spots appearing on your skin. Bruises Sari had called them and these are his fault. Unable to protect you from his own hands.

• Shaking your head, you're not sure if it's because he saved you from that other one or if it's his deep, soothing voice, but you feel safe with him. “You saved my life,” tell him, cautiously resting a palm against his chassis when he looks down at you. “I- thank you,” you finish awkwardly, hating how inadequate those words are. He could have saved himself, not risked his own life to try and protect you, a complete stranger not even his own species. He’d been hurt for you. And nothing you do can ever be enough to repay him for that.

• You’re thanking him? Don’t you realize Blitzwing only attacked because of him? If anything, you should hate him. He should be begging you to forgive him for endangering you, but the words fail him when you rest your head against his chassis. And you’re so small in his servos, warm and needing him in a way Sari rarely does with so many other protectors who are better at talking to her. Connecting and understanding her. “You never need to thank me for keeping you safe.” Aware of Bulkhead watching the interaction, he vents softly. Because no matter what he does, there’s always going to be that guilt that you were in danger because of him and he wants so bad to make it right.

• Relaxing into those big hands, exhaustion is all that’s left after the fear and adrenaline slip from you. Just want to curl up and rest. Maybe have a good cry somewhere safe. And even though you have no idea where he’s taking you, you’re strangely sure it is a safe place. That there’s nowhere safer than in his hands. When he approaches the old building, it doesn’t look that impressive as the green one slides open the big hangar style door so they both can duck inside. And then your heart is racing again. There’s more of them, see their optics widen when they spot you before a red and white one hurries over. From somewhere further inside the building, you can smell chili cooking and your stomach growls. “What happened?” The red and white one snarls as the big, green alien heads deeper into the building and you hear him talking to someone, saying, “You came back.”

• “The Decepticons happened,” he says, attention sliding from Ratchet to you as you try to hide your face against him as if uneasy with the other’s curiosity. “It’s alright. They’re friends,” he adds, trying to reassure you as you glance up at him. Looking to him for protection and it spreads warm through his spark. Wants to be worthy of your trust, to be your protector to make up for endangering you to begin with. Shifting you against him, he introduces himself and his fellow Autobots, smiling when you softly offer your own name.

Previous

[thezombieprostitute]

Can't Stand It

A/N: Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial.

Warnings: Bad boss. Please let me know if I missed any!

Summary: Working at a fancy restaurant with a demanding boss, you're starting to reach your limits. So is your favorite customer.

You're grinding your teeth in frustration and your shift hasn't even started yet. It's not that you don't like the work you do, it's just the people you have to work with, specifically your boss. If you could be a waitress for a boss that didn't insist on waving his dick around, sometimes literally, you'd be happy to do the job.

Instead, Mr. Hansen has you working the worst shifts for collecting tips and making sure your schedule is unpredictable. You know it's because you turned down his advances. Go figure, he can't handle being turned down.

Some of your favorite customers have asked after you, including Mr. Levinson, or Ari, as he insists you call him. You heard through some of your coworkers that Mr. Hansen got some harsh words from Ari because you weren't working your usual shifts. You smile at the thought of someone putting that asshole in his place.

You're doing your prep working and just trying to avoid Hansen so you don't have to fake your smile so much to your customers. Most of them don't care about fake smiles, but the big tippers always seem to appreciate the genuine ones.

Talia interrupts your work telling you, "Mr. Levinson just arrived. I made sure to seat him in your section."

"Thank you, so much!" You're definitely smiling for real now.

She gives a playful scoff. "I did it as much for me as for you. If Levinson found out you were working and I didn't seat him in your section I don't doubt I'd get an earful."

"Still, thank you so much."

Heading out the dining area, you make right for Ari. You'd never admit it, but between his ocean blue eyes, long hair, and strong physique, he's definitely shown up in several of your dreams. Your face heats up as you recall some of them. You have to stop for a moment and shake your head to clear up your thoughts.

Ari smiles wide when he sees you. "It's about time I got to see you again!"

"Yeah, my schedule's been crazy," you tell him as you hand him a menu. You omit the reason for the crazy schedule as it wouldn't do to set Hansen off again.

"So I gathered," his voice softens as he takes the menu from you.

The two of you chat a little before you get his drink order and head to the kitchen to grab it.

"There you are!" Hansen yells as soon as you're in the kitchen. "Where the hell have you been? Your prep work is sloppy and, worse yet unfinished. You wanna tell me what you've been doing?"

"My job," you snipe back. "I have a customer and I need to get their drink."

"We don't get customers at this time," he shoots back. "I made sure to schedule you for now specifically because of that."

"Well you can go out and look for yourself, Mr. Hansen. Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta get the man his drink."

Bringing Ari's drink to him, you try to plant your smile back as it was before your encounter. Unfortunately for you he's very observant.

"What happened?" His tone is kind and your smile turns a little more genuine.

"Just a little spat is all," you shrug. "It happens, you know?"

His expression turns stern. "Is someone giving you trouble?"

"Well, yes, but that's what bosses do, right?" You try to make sure there's a joking tone in your voice but his expression indicates he isn't buying it.

"Do you like your job? Do you enjoy working here?"

"Honestly," your voice quavers. "I can't stand it. My coworkers are okay but my boss is killing me. He keeps jumping my shifts around and is metaphorically on my ass all the time because I refused to let him literally be on me."

Ari's fist tightens in frustration. "Come work for me." You'd say it's an offer but his anger makes it sound more like an order. When you hesitate he continues, "I need someone reliable and friendly as my secretary. My current one keeps putting off clients with his cold, sarcastic demeanor. I can promise you it'll pay better than this job. And your schedule will be a lot more stable."

You hear a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by Hansen shouting at everyone and everyone.

"I'm in," you tell him, holding out your hand.

Ari takes your hand in his, giving it a firm shake. "Happy to have you aboard. Can I watch as you tell Hansen you're quitting?"

You laugh, "sure!"

As he follows you into the kitchen, you don't notice Ari's eyes on you. He was just hoping to ask you for a date, but he's not one to turn down an opportunity to get to spend more time with you. He's hopeful you'll feel the same about him.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[srslylini]

I have some thoughts about the idea of forgiveness and moving on we see in media and fans. The thoughts mostly come from being in therapy and spending time with people who specialize in those fields and helped me come to terms with my own pain.

This can very well be taken in general but is mostly about Vi.

Right. So.

Vi is a genuinely interesting character, who has gone through hell and back to put it lightly. She lives in conditions in the undercity that has people who don't live in them wear masks to handle them. She grew up and saw her parents die, which means she had to step up. Vander did adopt her, her sister, Mylo and Claggor but Vander still put a lot of responsibilities on Vi. She was told she cannot be selfish when people look up to her.

Then, of course, the entire act 1 of season 1 happens, which in itself is already very much and not something that should have ever happened to anyone, let alone a kid/teenager. She then, on TOP of all of this, got thrown into Stillwater after seeing her entire family die (and presumed Powder also as dead, although she continued to hope), where she was canonically beaten, starved, put into isolation and... the rest is up to interpretation because I guess the writers did not care. But that interpretation is not a good one.

What I am trying to say with all of this is that Vi has been put through so much by the system and by people (Enforcers get a special mention here) all around her.

This gets me to the point. I see a lot of people, the writers themself even, talk about how Vi needs to (or already did) forgive and move on. And I just wonder where this idea comes from?

In all my time in therapy, no matter what and who I talked about, you know what I have never heard? That I need to forgive.

What I heard instead was rather close to this:

"What happened was not your fault. It happened and can't be changed. But there is still something you can do, because you stand here now. You can imagine yourself back then and guide yourself. Hold yourself and tell the younger version of you that what happened isn't ever going to be fine but that you are still here and that you need to be kind to yourself." She told me "take the hand of your younger version and walk her through it because in the end it will have always happened but you can choose to help yourself"

There is a lot more she told me, but that is between her and me. What I am trying to say with this is that not once did I ever get told that I need to forgive the people involved. I am also not trying to say that doing this works for everyone, because health does not work this way. The point I am making is that I find it incredibly weird that we came to the point of saying that the only way to let go is to forgive, when that could not be further from the truth.

I would say understanding it happened and being kind to yourself does a lot more than trying to forgive people who hurt you so much that it ends in you being broken to what seems beyond repair (it isn't I have learned that much, lol). That's what my therapist taught me.

Which brings me back to Vi and why I find the notion of "she needs to forgive and move on to get better" or the writers writing "she forgave and moved on" so weird.

What happened to her is not something that can be forgiven. And... that is okay. Or it should be okay. But for some reason it isn't?

I mean if you can and want to forgive that is for you to do but to say that it is a (or even THE) way to move on does not sit right with me. At all.

[aespabangedbang]

PORNO MOMMY and her playthings 🖕

Writer's Note: I wanted a try a new style so here is a requested Mommy Seohyun with foot fetish. I went with the porno mommy plot and it's full of filth from start line to end line.

About Banner : (I ALSO MADE 4 GREAT BIKINI PICTURES OF THESE 4 BITCHES for the story myself but that's too much premium for a free smut kekeke. So enjoy the glimpse of how great my NSFW pics can be. I have mosaiced the part I had to work on these pics.) 🤑🫰

Tags: (FULL CON), MILF, torture, taming, teasing, breeding, creampie, incest, pornstars, prostitution, little bit of NON CON, DILF, forcing into prostitution, foot fetish, ball kicking, bastard and stuffing the dick in every holes.

Warning: Pure Smut, don't ask for morality and ruin everyone's mood here.

Word Count: 6000 words, written freestyle so ended up writing more than I wished for.

🔜 Upcoming Smut - Ae-Revenge Series Chapter 1 (My family)

.................................

M : “Auntie let me cum please, fuck!”

I am twisting my limbs that are tied with the bondage chair.

Y : “What's the rush son? Let your mom come home first. Say cheese for auntie!”

Auntie Yoona taking a lot of my shameless pics from different angles.

T : “Look at that size Yoona, this boy has grown into a delicious young man.”

Auntie Taeyeon has been blowing my 6 inch plus cock for a while now. Her sexy blowing face would make me cum 100 times any other day.

M : “At least let me cum. I beg you, my balls hurts like hell, fuck!”

A triangle cock ring encircling my shaft, balls and the base tightly, painfully. It's just impossible for my cum to come through the squeeze. My cock has gotten red like chili.

Y : “It's ok kid. Let me message your length for ease.”

Yoona’s leg starts stroking my length with her feet. It's very erotic how this pretty lady is playing with me but the unbearable pain makes me gasp each stroke.

M : “Ahh ah nngh argh auntie please please please let me cum!”

A drop of cum somehow makes its way out the tip just for Taeyeon to lick it clean.

T : “The boy is very salty. I like it though.”

Not another single drop is coming out. This choke is crazy!

Y : “Don't be impatient kid, we’ll take your choke off once you finish fucking us all three. Your mom is coming soon!”

Yoona locks her lips with mine, her tongue darting inside making any further protest impossible.

My mom Seohuyn is a veteran pornstar. She earned enough money to stop doing that filthy work years ago but she still continues. All because she is a habitual nympho bitch and other than fucking she knows nothing. These two are her besties from the same industry and they are here to celebrate my 18th birthday, in their way. Despite my best attempt to stay away from the vile pornography world, my mom plans to drag me down with her.

So these two came early this morning to our home and forcefully tied me with the purpose-made bondage chair, a collection from my mom’s many fuck toys she use regularly. It's been an hour since they are sexually torturing my manhood. Sucking, slapping, stroking, squeezing on top of that triangle ring choking my cock veins. Just making it impossible to ejaculate. They are taking turns tormenting my manhood and there is nothing I can do about it.

Where is my bitching mom Seohuyn you ask me? She got this big gig today. How big? A gangbang shoot with 10 BBC where she plays the role of a Indian woman. Of course she didn't turn off such huge fuck fest for her bastard son’s birthday and left early in the morning. Don't ask me the rest, you know what exactly she did there. Speaking of the devil, I hear the doorbell chiming and she has appeared.

Behold my sinful slutty mom Seohuyn in her full glory, standing wearing a nasty yellow colored Indian traditional whore dress that's barely covering her tanned nude body. Her busty boobies are about to spill out of her blouse and the long skirt she is wearing has a full length slit that's exposing her tanned legs up to her nude pussy with every step. Despite my disgust, I can't deny she is looking absolutely sexy to say no. You would think I am lucky that I am about to fuck such a tease of a sexy porno mom.

Except I know what a masochistic devil she is. Being a single mom, or rather a bitch who forgot who made her pregnant, I was always a substitute plaything of her supposed husband, at the mercy of my bitchy mom. She started to exploit me early. At first it was just some light fellatio and I actually enjoyed it. Then one day she comes home drunk, gets full nude in front of me and the next thing I know is that I ejaculated for the first time in my mom’s pussy.

Being a young teen I used to love this sinful taboo. I used to wait eagerly when will my mom fuck me, making me cum again and again holding me tightly in her motherly warm embrace while my little cock getting melted in her furnace like pussy with each thrust. But eventually I understood what's wrong with all this when I saw all of my friends at school with young pretty girlfriends around their age. Eventually my friends found out I am a pornstar’s son and I lost literally everything a teen can have in life, except my mom’s pussy.

That's when I started to hate my mom, started to distance myself from her yet she kept abusing me again and again. I can hardly do anything about it though, cause despite all my hate she is still a seasoned sex machine and once she has you in her grasp, repeatedly thrusting your cock while cumming nonstop is all you can manage. I hate myself for it yet I can't run away from her irresistible holes.

S : “Happy birthday my bastard son, come to momma!”

She sits on top of me and squeezes my face between her big busty boobs, my face getting squished inside her cleavage.

M : “Get of me, I don't want to fuck you anymore.”

I protest knowing she won't listen, she never does. I can smell the musky scent of cum, my face getting sticky with it. Must be from the gangbang.

M : “You smell of others' cum you disgusting whore, GET OFF ME!”

I shout. But all she does in return is unhook her blouse and start rubbing her creampied bobbies on my face.

S : “Don't be mean, you have grown into such a fine man. Mommy is proud of ya!”

She forces her cum soaked dry areola in my mouth, the various tastes of different men’s cum filling my tongue getting wet with my saliva.

T : “Taste your mom's hard earned cum kid, she works so hard raising you fucking all the men.”

She grabs my cock and starts stimulating the already painful cock again. I can't even moan as my mom is stuffing me with her boobies.

Y : “Hey sis don't forget about us too. We have been good girl and didn't fuck him yet.”

Her lip locks my mom's to taste the men's milk she gulped filming the gangbang. Her moaning sounds like she is sucking something delicious.

S : “You’ll have your fill bitches. First let mommy fuck her good bastard to celebrate his birthday.”

She stands and unhook the poor excuse of long skirt, her mommy bushy pussy that gave birth to me and fucked me for years glistening with her own arousal and many men she fucked today.

M : “I HATE YOU MOM, I HATE YOU! Don't fuck me anymore, I beg you. I want a normal life, love a normal girl and live a normal life! Please…”

I am begging but hate to say my cock getting harder once again seeing Seohyun, that bitch’s pussy. I fucked it countless times, I want to stop but I can't.

T : “Is this your rebellious phase son? You are so cute. Here, have mom’s pussy to change your mind.”

Taeyeon aligns my cock with mom’s slit. It's already soaked with her own saliva.

S : “Here comes mommy!”

She locks her lips with mine this time, her darting tongue sharing all the men's cum and Yoona’s saliva down my throat. She lowers herself down on my cock. Once again, I am inside my porno mom.

M : “ARGHH MY COCK HURTS! At least pull out the ring! Argh nngh aghh…”

My body jerks from the sharp pain of my sore cock, more painful as now it's getting squeezed by mommy pussy as well as her entire weight on my blue balls.

Y : “Look at him bucking his hips to fuck his momma. He only rebels with words hahaha.”

As I said, I hate it but once I am inside my bitching mom I can't stop thrusting my cock in her taboo holes.

T : “Honor the hole that gave birth to a bastard like you kid. Fuck her, fuck your mommy like the professional bitch she is!”

Seohyun is riding on my cock like I am an actual horse, fuck how is she still so horny after a literal gangbang?

S : “See son you actually love mommy pussy. Your cock is pumping me like you didn't fuck me for ages.”

It hurts, hurts like hell but I am still thrusting upward as deep as I can.

Y : “He fucks her mom regularly yet they are so horny for each other. I should have given birth to a bastard like you too!”

For your information, I still fucked her few days ago. I, like a worthless shit went to her room and fucked her until we both fall asleep. And I hate myself for it, for my trained urge to fuck my mom that I can't control.

M :” Mom mom mom at least let me cum. Please fuck, FUCK MY BALLS ARE BURSTING! Fuck I hate you mom!”

I am feeling so on edge yet I can't cum. I want to cum so badly, so I am fucking her harder just to get squeezed hardest by those damn cock ring.

S : “Shhhh son, you got so many holes to fill today. Bear the pain baby! We are just starting.”

Cum getting pumped out her pussy with each thrust and soaking my cock entirely. All the raw gangbanging juice she has collected from vile men soaking my innocent cock. Gross, fucking gross!

M : “FUCK YOU BITCH! GO FUCK EVERY MEN IN THIS WORLD, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

In an attempt to protest I bite on her nipple only for her to squeeze my sore cock so hard with her pussy like I almost lost sense from pain. My eyes are hitting the back of my head.

S : “You are feeling it right son? Ahhh, mommy is getting close too. I love to fuck you most my precious bastard!”

Seohyun is now bouncing so roughly on my ringed cock, her meaty ass with the entire torso weight slapping my thigh and crotch, the smacking sound filling the room. My balls are feeling like getting squished into mashed potatoes every time her ass presses on it. My Cock almost feels like getting cut into tiny pieces.

M : “ARGH ARGHHH AGHH Y-YOOU ARE KILLNGGH ME ARGHH AGHH…”

With a convulsing body that can’t cum, I am squirming in agonizing pleasure. I never knew anyone could get this edged. Helplessly I have my first ever dry orgasm pushing my physical and mental limit to its best! My mommy’s busty tits are hitting my tearing face.

Y : “FUCK HIM SENSELESS SEOHUYN!”

Yoona is cheering and slapping her ass loudly and squeezing her udders to hype her up. Seohyun moaning from pleasure in response.

T : “Your boy is a treasure Seohyun, look at him taking your pussy with such vigor!”

She is busy spitting on my face and slapping me back to sense. The nonstop stream of dirty talk flooding my ears.

S : “FUGH FUUUUUUCK!”

With a loud growl my bitch mom starts cumming hard, who knows how many times she cummed today. Her whole body is violently convulsing on my tormenting manhood, as if a bucket of ice was poured on her. She is oversensitive fucking entire day.

M : “HURK HURKK HARK HURK…”

I can't cum through my pee pee but the churning pressure in my belly ends with me puking the food I ate before getting tied up. My warm digestives gurgle out and paint the tanned belly and boobies of Seohyun and go down my body. My orgasms hit me like a flood but I can’t cum, the intense spike in blood pressure makes me lose sense and that's all I remember.

Who knows how long I was passed out but when I woke up a sizzling hot, smelly and stingy fluid woke me up. I am lying on the cold hard floor, I open my eyes and I can see the pinky pussy hole of Yoona over my face, pissing on my face to wake me up.

Y : “Kyaa, he has woken up Seohyun.”

She pisses the rest of her load on my body and moves aside. I see my mom is sucking my cock like giving CPR to wake her passed out son. Taeyeon quickly move Seohyun aside and inserts my cock in her.

T : “ARGHH YOUR SON IS SO BIG!”

She immediately starts humping on my boy with all her speed and strength. The short woman hides her face on my pissed chest and rides me like a bunny.

M : “ARGHH FUCK YOU TAEYEON YOU CHEAP HOE! DON'T FUCK ME ARGHH!”

My balls are clenching hard, but it seems like I can cum now. They pulled out the ring, so nothing can stop me from cumming in these bitches!

S : “Fuck em son, breed your auntie Tae with a bastard son like you!”

She puts two fingers both in my and Taeyeon’s asshole, making it more stimulating for me.

M : “TAKE IT LIKE YOU WANTED YOU A NASTY PIECE OF SOCIAL SHIT!”

At last after hours of edging and cock tormenting pleasure I end up cumming straight into Taeyeon's pussy. I am trembling being able to cum at last, never cummed so much at a time like this in my life. My hands are grabbing Taeyeon's short hair. My cum gushing out her pussy and painting my sore cock white.

T : “AHHHH I CAN FEEL so much semen filling my womb! I am getting pregnant after this for sure.”

She pulls out from my cock and then smears her pussy on my face, painting me white with our combined milk.

S : “Good job kiddo, mom is happy seeing you breeding your auntie!”

My mom is stroking my shaft with her legs now. The tanned long legs and slender finger making a quick work out of my abused penis. It becomes fully erected once again, surprised because I was literally erected for hours.

T : “The Viagra is doing wonders!”

Damn, this breeded bitch doped my water this morning. Fuck, cock ring and Viagra; I am not losing my erection any time soon. And my hate becoming lustful pleasure as I can't wait to fuck Seohyun, that bitch of a mom’s pussy once again.

M : “I AM GONNA KILL YOU PORNO SHIT, I AM GONNA FUCK YOUR BRAIN OUT OF YOUR PUSSY FUCKING YOU MOM!”

I pounce on her and both stumble on the ground. I try to pin her but feeling weak from the override of hormonal surge in my blood. She easily overpowers me and gets behind, scissors her leg over my legs and squeezes my penis with both of her feet. Leaning on the sofa she easily starts stroking my shaft again.

S : “Easy son, mommy going to fuck you more later. But first fuck your auntie Yoona, she has been waiting for hours.”

While mom is busy stroking my shaft with both feets, Yoona comes over and sits on my cock. Her pretty smile and sexy figure would make me cum immediately unless I was already so spent. But like experienced sluts, they start hardening my cock.

M : “Ahhh ahh ahhh ah ah why is my cock getting hard again? Arghh! You are such a good slut mommy ahh!”

I can't help but feel my cock getting hard again. Yoona’s warm and slippery pussy, my mom’s warm soft boobies squishing in my back and her feet stroking my long shaft alongside Yoona's riding makes me close to cum again.

S : “Yoona he is all yours, he is getting close!”

My ragged breath makes it easy for my porno mom to guess my situation. She removes her feet and let Yoona freely fuck me like a possesd bitch. She starts kissing and biting on my neck, licking the combined juice of mine and Taeyeon. Soon enough I cum undone in her!

Y : “Cum kid cum me full of your seeds! I want a bastard son like you arghh!”

My seeds filled Yoona's pussy and maybe some even went into her womb. Not sure because I have already cummed so much in Taeyeon.

T : “He came again so much, it's delicious!”

Taeyeon comes and starts licking my cum from Yoona's pussy. Seohyun put me on the floor and rushes to blow my penis hard again.

S : “Your cum is salty like ramen broth, son, I love your taste.”

With skillful motion porno mom Seohyun taking my cock deepthroating herself and I can't help but get rock hard again. Her big boobs are jumping around with each movement. Her big round ass is rising up as she is lowering her head to suck me.

T : “Shake that booty for your man Seohyun, give your son some birthday show!”

She starts slapping mom’s meaty ass loudly, sending visible ripple through her butt. Mommy doesn't stop giving head, suppressing her gag like pro she takes my entire cock down her throat. I am over sensitive too and soon enough I feel my orgasm building again.

Y : “Fuck Seohyun, if I knew a bastard son can be trained like this then I would never go for abortion. Fuck!”

She is fingering herself and sometimes licking her fingers. But she isn't my focus now, my gangbanged mom pouring her soul to please me is all that matters.

M : “I FUCKING LOVE YOU MOM, I want to fuck you forever mom fuck fuck fuck me arghhh…”

I grab and push her head on my cock and shove my cock as deep as I can and then I cum. My body convulsing, Seohyun struggles to breathe but I keep cumming my big load, then I become limp. Cumming three times under one hour drained all of my energy.

S : “You have cummed such a huge load in mommy’s mouth son! Ah, your’s are really the most delicious cum I ever had.”

She opens her mouth to show me the creampied mess and then down it all with a big gulp. Her gaze and expression is as nasty and sinful as it can be for a porno mom.

They lift me up in the air and go to the living room. They have already put a gym mat there. They put me on it and start their next phase of sexual birthday celebration, without a single word. My mommy starts twerking for me, her busty ass and boobies dancing with each throw of her ass. Taeyeon and Yoona follow but they can't keep up with my mom’s twerk.

M : “I I-I WANT TO TASTE YOUR ASS MOM!”

I say weakly. With a thirsty smirk my mom gets on all four, throwing her ass back in doggy style twerk. I sit up forgetting my weakness and start licking her asshole. My tongue tasting the shit smelling gangbangd mommy ass that tastes of many different cum. It's not my first and now I don't want it to be my last!

S : “Liking mommy’s ass again? Tell me you don't hate mommy. I love you son. You don't need any normal girl. Your pornstar mom is all you will ever need! The only man who can ever own your mom is you and only you.”

She is clenching her asshole around my tongue. Thanks to her early gangbang, her asshole cleaner than most time. The musky intoxicating smell of her abundantly cummed pussy and salty sweat around her asshole makes her ass incredibly delicious.

M : “I LOVE YOU TOO MOM, FUCK! I don't think I can live without fucking you even a single day!”

All my protest to have a normal future is gone. My dream of normal life was nativity. I am a famous pornstar’s son so living a filthy life suits me. The only thing I can dream of is devouring my mom everyday for the rest of our life.

S : “LICK MOMMA’S JUICY PUSSY TOO SON! See mom’s lower lips are drooling for you.”

Despite getting gangbanged and fucking me once my nympho Seohyun is ready for another round. I start licking her pussy like a baby sucking milk, cleaning her soon after. Her cum always tastes like sour candy, I like the sourness she has down there.

T : “Fuck your mom’s ass kid. See how she is winking for you!”

Taeyeon spread my mom's ass, I can see mom’s puckered hole clenching to invite me.

Y : “Seohyun your ass is so tight and full! I can't believe you were gangbanged. My ass would gap and stay gapped for weeks!”

She spit on Seohuyn's asshole and finger it inside to wet her further. Mommy jiggling and twerking her ass to invite me again.

S : “COME TO MOMMY, FUCK MOMMA ASS SON!”

She calls me with a nasty nasal voice and I rush to her, setting my cock to thrust in my mom's meaty cave, Yoona’s hand helping me to put in her tightness but then the doorbell chimes again.

A young girl enters the house. She got a gift box in hand and came for my birthday. It's already evening. It's Lily from my new college. Nobody there still doesn't know I am a pornstar's illegitimate bastard son who is still active in porno industry. Poor girl steps right into our intimate sex session out of nowhere. She is the one I kinda fall for and already forgot that I invited her over thanks to whole day ordeal.

L : “W-WHAT THE HECK?”

She jumps back, drops her gift box from hand, whatever in it broke with a loud crack. Her hands on her mouth, eyes bursting out seeing me having sex with three middle aged women. Yoona is still guiding my cock, Taeyeon behind me just started to lick my asshole and Seohyun looked at Lily with authority.

M : “It's not what you think it is Lily that's my mom and these two are her friends I am definitely not fucking some random bitches my mom is a professional pornstar this is her birthday gift for me…”

I end up saying everything without taking a break, I am always kinda nervous around her and now that I have got caught red handed, I don't act and say all of it.

L : “O-OK. S-SORRY FOR DISTURBING YOUR FAMILY INTIMACY. I AM GOING.”

With a shaking form Lily turns around to get the hell out of here but Seohuyn nods her head to her besties. They literally run and grab her both hands, quickly pin her on the sofa and start undressing her. They are so fast that before Lily can even say anything she is already in her undies.

L : “WTF LET ME GO, WHAT'S THIS LET ME GO…”

She tries to fight back but two middle aged nude bitches with gym bodies restrain her instantly. My mom rises and goes to her swaying her big meaty ass. She grabs her mouth tightly with one hand to stop her yapping and tears her underwear in a swift pull. Yoona and Taeyeon lifted her legs up, now Lily’s squeaky clean marshmallow like young pussy on full display.

S : “You got a crush on her, right son? Then come and claim her as your. Be your mommy's worthy successor.”

She slaps then spreads Lily’s pussy lips apart, her pinkish brown hole makes me horny again. Like a robot I completed my mom’s instruction and thrust my cock into Lily.

L : “Mmmfp Mmph Mmpp Mmmfph…”

They have shoved Lily’s undies down her mouth so she can't talk. Her body jerks as blood flowing out her freshly deflowered virgin pussy. I start fucking her full speed, my cock going blur. This tightness is even greater than my mom's loose ass. So that's how a virgin actually tastes and how tight they feel. Fuck, her pussy is almost biting off my cock. I squeeze her boobs super hard, start pulling her boobs and nipples, making her moan painfully.

S : “How dare you bewitch my fucking son? He is mine, girl. His cock belongs to his mommy only. This is your punishment for crossing your boundaries. Get fucked like a bitch now. Getting fucked like a sow is all you are allowed to ask from my son.”

My mom slapping, punching, pinching and even pulling Lily's hair from jealousy. But she doesn't tell me to stop fucking Lily, her entire anger is on Lily being a delicate nice girl. So she is trashing her, making me fuck her like a bitch to make it even.

M : “You love me that much mom? But you fuck around so many men, how can I tell your love is real and romantic for me?”

I ask her with a fluttered heart. Now that I think about it, mom is so perfect as a woman. There are thousands of man drooling to fuck her, but outside her porno the only person she ever wants to fuck is me. My mom actually sees me as her man and I didn't understand it all this time. Of course my cock hasn't stopped drilling in Lily while being so fluttered for my mom.

S : “I am a nympho bitch, to be honest I need a lot of cocks to stay happy. But, at the end you are the only one I love. I didn't find any perfect men for me, so you who came out this needy pussy of mine are the best man for me. You are just as Horny as me, so you are my perfect match.”

Seohyun stop tormenting Lily and start kissing me incestuously, her hands around my head and caressing hair, my hip is busy fucking Lily’s pussy. Our tongues intertwined, her big boobs pressing against my chest. Agh I love my bitchy mom!

Y : “So cute you mom son fucking relationship but what should we do with this bitch here?”

Yoona alternates between choking and slapping poor Lily like she is a criminal in an interrogation room. Poor girl crying helplessly without understanding why she is getting fucked and had to lose her virginity to a boy who is already fucking three bitch all alone.

T : “How about leave her to us? We can use some good holes ourselves!”

Taeyeon starts rubbing Lily’s swollen bloody clit until she can't take it anymore. Lily starts convulsing and literally drench me with her virgin shower like pussy.

S : “Did you want to have my son without any sexual expertise? Look at you cumming from some clit rub! Tsk here I can take dozens of cocks and still can last for hours!”

My porno mommy flex in front of the innocent young girl who can never be as good as a pro bitch. She pulls me back, my hard rod comes out soaked in virgin blood and cum. Mom grabs my sore balls and starts squeezing them. Her other hand removes the clothes from Lily’s mouth.

L : “AHHH ARGH AHGHH I-I WILL GO TO THE POLICE, HOW DARE YOU ALL ABUSE ME? SOMEONE HELP ME…”

My bitching mom claws Lily’s mouth again. She guides my cock to her mouth and pushes me all the way in. Virgin Lily's gag reflex tries to push me back but Yoona and Taeyeon start choking her so that she can't cough me out.

S : “I want you to treat our guests with drinks, my son! Sticky white and hot golden drinks. Don't hold back, pour it all down her throat!”

My mom starts fingering my ass to make me hornier and being inside my college crush’s mouth makes me cum in her again. Lily never thought she would get treated like a sex toy by literal pornstars for going to a friend's house. I feel bad for her but still glad that I can fuck her up without any hassle of dating.

Y : “Piss down her throat kid. Come on!”

Yoona let go Lily’s throat and starts pressing on my bladder. With increasing pressure I overcome my orgasm and start pissing down Lily's throat, her face disfigure from the strong foul smell and taste of my golden piss. I don't piss much but enough to make Lily lose her sense.

T : “Good job kid. This good for nothing normie family bitch doesn't deserve your cum in her pussy!”

She scoops some of my cum from her pussy and start licking it, she have fallen in love with my salty cum.

S : “Take her with you and let our boys play with her. Record it. If she even dares to tell her parents about today, we’ll release it on the dark web. Let's see how this bitch can go to the police!”

My mom being the leader of a prostitution ring wields enough power to turn any girl into slut within a day. Lily better listen and keep her mouth shut or she will be sold into prostitution permanently.

Y : “Let's stuff her holes!”

She brought three big dildo and start shoving those in Lily’s holes. First Taeyeon shoves a jelly like dildo down Lily’s throat and then duct tape her mouth. Yoona pushes a huge cock down her wet pussy and tape it again. Lastly they sodomize her ass pushing a beaded dildo in all the way. Lily wakes up, tries to scream but other than weak whimpers nothing escapes her dildo shoved mouth.

Taeyeon and Yoona kisses me and give my cock some goodbye strokes before grabbing Lily and starts dragging her outside our house. Blood painting the ground from her double bleeding holes and making a trail all the way. They throw her in the back of their black microbus and leave for their brothel, the biggest one in the city. Taking my invitation was her biggest mistake, now she has to be at least a temporary slut for a few days.

S : “It's your fault for inviting her over. What did you think? You marrying a normal girl? In this world? Don't forget you are my son, my pussy gave birth to you. I OWN YOU! I am gonna punish you for even daring to harbor romantic feelings for anyone else but your mom, GET IN THERE.”

She literally overpowers my weakened body and starts pushing me around. I try to reason by raising my hand but suddenly she kicks my balls out of nowhere.

M : “FUUUUUCK ARGGGH AHHH AHHH AH AH NNGH AAGH….!”

I fall on the ground from immaculate pain. My already sore cock and balls now feel like getting torned apart, someone pulled those bloody away from my body. My body starts trembling from the intense sensation of dread and inhuman pain.

M : “W-WHY M-MOM FUUUCKKK!”

I am convulsing like I'm about to orgasm. Her kick stimulated my horny nerves and with a crying scream I start ejaculating once more. My back arching while ropes of cum spurting out of me. Though I am cumming, it's the pain that I am relishing in.

S : “Because it's about time you know who owns your body, mind and cock my boy. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS MINE!”

She steps on my orgasming cock and uses her feet and finger to stroke my length throughout my orgasm, I am cumming uncontrollably until I feel my sacks have gone numb. She starts squeezing my balls painfully and with a sharp jolt I see the world going black.

I am lying senseless on the floor and peeing myself as my mommy Seohyun starts to tend to my wound. That's how s porno mommy trains and tames her rebellious son.

Epilogue:

Seohyun’s pussy undoing me. I only inserted my cock in my mom's hot pussy out of naughty urges but she is still angry for inviting Lily over. So she is undoing me by sucking me in her womb that gave birth to me. I am getting sucked like her pussy is a black hole, after my cock now my torso getting sucked in. No no nooo don't suck me in mommy don't delete me from reality no no nooooooooooo…

I jolt back and regain my senses. It's a hospital bed, I am lying there. Must have lost my senses from my mom's kick. They must have treated my cock. Is it ok?

I look down and see my mom is busy sucking my cock, deepthroating herself like she always does while blowing me. It's sloppy, saliva smearing my shaft and dropping on the bed sheet. She is sucking it almost like she didn't eat anything for days.

M : “Mom? Where am I? How many days have I been senseless?”

I weakly ask my mommy. She looks at me with my cock in her mouth and seems happy that I have woken up. But instead of answering me, she keeps blowing me full throttle until I end up cumming in her bitchy mouth. She pulls out and shows me the big blob of cum on her tongue.

S : “It’s been two days son! Mommy missed you inside me, mommy missed your salty cum.”

She says with such a lust befitting a pornstar. She bites her lower lip then climbs on top of me, goes straight for a kiss. Sne shares my cum kissing me as deep as she can. She has thrown her denim on the floor, her pussy pressing on my nude cock through her blue panty. It's sopping wet from her taboo arousal.

S : “Remember you were about to have mommy’s ass for your birthday before? Here, let me give you your birthday gift.”

She quickly pushes her panty aside and sets her puckered asshole on my erected cock. Then like she did the first time, she starts descending on my cock. Her face beaming with excitement like a teen about to lose her virginity.

M : “W-wait m-mom I am still sick and it's a hospital so how about you don't fuck me here someone may come in and see your ass and pussy and seeing us mom son fucking each other fuck fuuuck fuuuck…”

I try to say everything as fast as I can but she never listens. My eyes hit the back of my head. I am too sensitive after waking up after 2 days of sleep. My back is arching as she starts riding me. Her big booty squeezing my cock and smashing my balls under her weight.

S : “Ahh ahhh ah ah ah ahhh mommy is so horny for you son! I spent two days without fucking anyone worrying about you. Let mommy blow up some strees, fuck argh…”

She opens her white shirt in one violent pull, buttons flying in random directions. Then she pulls out her heavy big bobbies without taking off her bra. She shoves her right areola in my mouth and then starts riding me like there is no tomorrow.

M : “Mmmph mmfh mmph mmh Mmph…”

Fuck it, despite her asshole is pretty lose it's still tighter than her pussy. My cock getting tormented again and I can't stop her no matter what. Though I am loving the sensation of my momma fucking me so passionately.

Fuck my porno mommy Seohyun. I hate her for destroying my life but in return the holes she offers are irresistible. I fucking love your holes mom, I fucking hate you pornstar of a momma!

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

A nurse have come to attend me but seeing my mom fucking me with her ass startled the uterus out of her pussy. She presses her mouth shut with her hands, eyes shocked. Pornstar Seohyun doesn't care though, it's not like her ass is something new for the world to see. She keeps fucking me with her ass, my 2nd orgasm hit me and cum start leaking out her asshole.

But Seohyun’s ass doesn't stop, and doesn't stop her neverending lust!

The end up into Seohyun's asshole!

[deluluass]

Reception: Squid Game AU

Content warnings: rape/noncon; canon typical violence; pregnant sex; mommy kink (kinda?)

[ANON PROMPT: The dynamic between player 388 and 322—the former protecting naive vulnerable pregnant you in the games, thinking of him as your reliable “brother” but unfortunately, he wants something more between you two.]

"What- what if," you choke. "What if they make us kill each other?"

Thick layers of tulle burn against your scabbed knees. The gown isn't made of starchy fabric, like the ones they sell at the flea market for half a price because it tends to itch anyway, but it still stings every time you move and graze your barely healed wounds. So you don't.

You sit still, not even letting your spine touch the wooden vines intricately carved on the back of the chair. The delicate cream lace spanning along your chest to your wrists might as well have been worn by a corpse for all the breathing that you do. 

You don't even touch your food.

Bokuto, on the other hand, is ravenous. 

Sitting on the opposite side of the long table, he tears through chicken leg, then venison, then the boiled potatoes. He chews and chews and washes it all down with wine, chugging noisily as it drips past the edge of his mouth.  

"They won't," he finally replies before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You pass him your table napkin even though he's yet to use his, absently reminding him to keep his elbows off the table unless he wants ragu all over his suit.

He follows you, but not without a toothy beam and a, "Seriously, trust your big bro, 'kay? This is our last meal in this hell hole, so just relax– relax ! And eat!"

Big bro . You snort. He really knows how to lighten the mood, this guy. 

"Alright," you sigh, not quite slouching. "What do they want us to do then?"

"What they want?" Bokuto tilts his head, like he's really thinking about it, as he picks at his molars with the tip of his tongue. "Well, they wanna be entertained."

It was a rhetorical question. You don't tell him that. You'd long lost the urge to actually ask him how he knows what he knows about the games, having learned much earlier that it's better to just shut up and do what he says, because between the two– asking or following, that has been the only choice that has kept you alive.

You didn't ask why he had to stop you from picking the pyramid. You didn't ask why he had   to make you hide and sleep under his bunker at night. And you certainly didn't ask why he had to bash that man's head when he could've just easily pushed him out of the door.

Repeatedly. As if that first one didn't already do that man in. Smack, smack, smack, until he'd sprayed blood and bits of white-pink flesh onto the cheery, lemonade walls. 

He could say that the man wouldn't have left on his own, even though you both heard the room next to yours desperately searching and shrieking for another player to meet the count. He could even say that he'd done it because the man had grabbed and tried to drag you out first, that if it hadn't been him then it would've been you: you and your bits all over those walls, but, still, why –

"Hey."

You look up. 

Bokuto was staring at you. Irises ablaze, cheery lemonade under the crystal chandelier. 

“Eat,” he says, eyes smiling, all teeth, blood splattered lemons. “You hafta eat.”  

Holding your utensils with trembling fingers, “Junior’s havin’ a tantrum in there,” Bokuto suddenly taunts, pointing at your stomach with a parfait spoon. 

Your jaw drops. 

To hell with your anxiety. You prioritize making a face at him.  

“ Mommy, mommy ,” he cries in response, cackling, pitching his voice up and making you groan. “ Stop being so stubborn! I’m so sick of the rice balls! I want ham now! Waaa! Ham!”

“Idiot.” You grin through the first bites of pasta. “She could be a girl.”

“Then hurry up ‘n eat!” Bokuto slams his fist on the table. “Eat so we can scram outta here. Baby girl has got a princess' life to live!” 

Glass and ceramics clatter, prompting the masked guards to bark a warning. Both of you stifle a chortle, leaning forward into each other and shifting in your seats like reprimanded fourth graders.

You finish your plate one morsel at a time, rubbing your bump as you do. It’s paste and wet scrap paper in your mouth, but you force yourself to swallow. He wouldn't stop looking at you if you didn't. He was right anyway. You do need to be more mindful of the baby, especially after everything you've been through.

Then, reaching for your drink, the folded napkin next to your plate glints. You gnash your teeth. That's why you’d asked him. Because if you weren't there to shove that thing at each other’s necks, then what in the world were you supposed to do now? 

Just…eat?

“Bo-kun,” you mutter. He pauses from scraping vanilla out of a crystal bowl. “They gave us a knife, you know.”

“Hm?” 

You know he heard you. 

“A knife. We both have a knife.”

“So what?” The thin stem of his spoon clangs with a bite. 

Same set of teeth that could rip and spit out a grown man’s ear like watermelon seed. It was dark and the lights were flashing, but you saw . 

“Hm? You gonna kill me?” 

Stocky gray brows clash in confusion. You think that this is the last thing field mice see when they come into contact with a barn owl. He pops the strawberry in his mouth.

And before you know it, he blurs out of view, and you sniffle and feel the overwhelming need to hide your face.

Bokuto leaves his seat. The guards close in on him.

“Shit, hey, man, look– I’m not doin’ anything funny– look , I’m not– fuck .” He goes around the table to your side, panting slightly as he bends down and props his hand on his thighs.

“Hey, don't cry, don't cry,” he murmurs softly. “I’m sorry, got my foot stuck in my mouth. You know your big bro. I’m a freakin’ airhead, yeah? I was being a fool, shoulda been more sensitive given your- you know-” drawing an imaginary (far too large) arch over his tummy, “-situation.”

Your sobs stumble into giggles. He drops to his knee, the other supporting his arm, as he sighs and glides a large hand over his gel-slick hair. Bokuto shakes his head.

There was once a time in your life when you would’ve given everything in the world just to see something like this. Be in something like this. Praying for your ex to, one day, come home and finally– after all that you’d sacrificed for him, offer this to you.

Man in a dapper suit on bended knee. The pretty white gown. Food that only the rich people in your phone could indulge in. Hundreds of roses in full bloom that it boggles the mind.

Life has a way of giving you what you want: wrapped and tied with a big, fat knee-slapper. 

Well, whatever happens now, it finally got the reaction that it’s been asking for. 

You laugh. 

“Gosh.” You wipe your tears. “We look so weird. Is that the game? Eat while looking like.. like this without breaking. In that case, we lost, Bo-kun.”

He doesn't seem to agree. And he's not laughing with you now.

You don't know if you like that he’s not. It doesn't look right. He even laughs with his thumbs pressed to a living, breathing human being’s sockets.

“I’m not with you on that one.” Bokuto shrugs. “I think you look beautiful.”

“Ugh, don’t make me cry again.”

“Wha- at ? It's true.”

He’s still kneeling. The idiot.

“You too,” you sniff, hand out to fix his bow. “You look beautiful too.”

You feel your smile wobble. Now, he's the one who’s on the verge of tears, but the moment is interrupted by the sudden glow of the tile under his oxfords.

Heart in your throat, you watch wordlessly as the one behind it follows. Then another. And another. Once translucent, some of the tiles now form a warm orange path leading to a–

“That a pond ?” Bokuto chirps.

This is it. The guards start to flank you. Bokuto helps you stand. Warm hand spans your waist, guiding you to your destination. 

This is it, you believe. This is where you die.

The baby.

You halt. “It's okay,” Bokuto whispers. “I’m with you.”

The path does not lead you to another arena. 

There, water trickles. Out of nowhere, unseen strings play a sweet, languorous melody. 

Light shines down on the middle of the pond, revealing a broad, rounded grassy meadow. Flowers, real ones, have sprung along its circumference, almost like it's a fancy cake. 

All that's missing are the–

Beside you, Bokuto takes off his dress shoes. You’re about to ask him what he's doing but seeing the couple of feet going to the center, you remove yours too. 

The pond is nice and cool when you dip into it. Tiny fishes brush your ankles as you wade through the water. You carry the skirt to your calves, tail end still managing to get soaked, while Bokuto holds you close all throughout.

You land on a marshmallow field. The grass is plush, and you try your best not to give in to the temptation of just lying down, wiggling your toes through the trim, pillowy blades instead. The light pulls your eyes to the ceiling.

You gasp.

They’ve poked a massive hole through it. Above your heads, wispy clouds drift along the bright, open sky. There are migratory birds forming a V in the distance. 

“Bo-kun, look…!” 

You twine your fingers together, pulling him to you. His are much longer, firmer than yours. 

He is looking. Just not in the same direction as you.

When you meet his gaze, neither one of you could have prevented the other from being reduced into tearful, boisterous laughter. The music rises higher and higher, like those birds flying out of reach, and you recognize it as the same one folks usually play when the bride marches down the aisle.

“I guess… we dance?”

Bokuto whistles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He is warm, Bokuto. If you could make a home out of this, you would. He spins you around, gently, causing you to wheeze. “You’re such a sap,” you tell him with a grin.

“Mhm”

A syrupy kind of ache seeps from deep within you as he sways you in his arms. Treacly sugar and cloying, like the junk you’d stuff into your mouth when you were a kid and making silver bands out of soda pull-tabs; veils out of moth-eaten blankets. It gathers at the bottom of your heart, sticking to its fragile walls and reminding you that there’d been nothing worthwhile to fill it with ever since you turned your body into a work machine. 

Not until that day, sitting inside a cubicle that other women had also lined up for, as you stare at the test that’d come out with two, undeniable pink lines.

When the music fades, you convince yourself that it’s perfectly normal to be overtaken by panic. Because, what now? Is this the part where they blare their instructions through the intercom? What will it take? A knife? A shove? The one that falls off the edge dies and the last one standing wins? What ? 

You search for the guards, only to find them at the edges of the room, shrouded in darkness.

“Bokuto Kotaro,” you gasp. “That- that is your actual name, right?”

He looks at you like you’ve sprouted another leg. But, picking up on the hurried cadence of your voice, he says nothing and runs a comforting palm on your back. His gaze softens, before stooping down to touch your forehead with his.

Your eyes flutter close. 

“I would never lie to you,” he answers. 

You nod. 

His breath scorches to the point of being feverish. Worry besets you when he suddenly releases a stabbed groan, thinking maybe he’d been sick this whole time and just didn’t tell you.

“Are you okay? Bo-kun, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“S’nothing,” he rumbles, leaving a brief, soft peck on your cheek. 

Your breath hitches. 

Then, he goes for your lips. 

“What the hell–” you cry, turning away, but he manages to capture it in his, molding them together, moaning at your taste. You feel it reverberate inside the caverns of your mouth. He glides his tongue inside, sliding over yours, and, not for the first time, you begin to wish that this is something that would be over if you could only just wake up . 

It doesn’t, however. And you don’t.

You stay here, in this moment, with Bokuto’s kisses trailing down your neck. He laps at your sweat, then traces the tender spot that makes you gasp and buckle.

“H-hold on, Bo-kun– wait– Bokuto, stop…! ”

You wriggle out of his arms. He grabs tighter. 

“Shh, shh , it’s what they want,” Bokuto murmurs, the bridge of his nose nudging your chin. “They want a good show. We gotta give it to ‘em. Gotta get outta here.”

To your horror, the man has already bunched your gown in his hands. You feel a squall trapped in your throat as the calloused tips of his fingers move, creeping like vines between your legs.

“No, no, no, please– ”

He touches you through your cotton panties, rubbing your clit as something hot and hard bump against your leg. “This won't take long,” he grunts. “Been like this ever since you came out lookin’ like that. So lovely. My lovely, lovely wife.”

You’re brought down to the grass, carefully, even with all your pleading and squirming. Tulle piles at your waist like a cloud as Bokuto sets you on your side. He’s spooning you, one large arm trapped underneath your torso, supporting your head, as he bucks his cock between your ass and rambles madly into your ear.

“We’ll get hitched for real after this, alright? Take care of you– Gonna make more so they're not lonely– Won’t ever, ever leave you like that motherfucker , you hear me, darlin’? This one's mine now too, got it?”

He’s grasping softly at your bump like somebody might steal it from him. Your child. Your baby.

You shake your head, sobbing, but he doesn't hear you, too rapt picking at the lace covering your chest with his other hand. Without a warning, he rips it apart.

The air is ice cold on your breasts. You hiss out in pain. 

Bokuto guffaws. “ Fuck me. ”

He cups them slowly, his heated, wet gasp hitting your nape. Goosebumps rise all over skin. He’s giggling like a child, and you have never feared him more in your life.

“They're really swollen, aren't they?”

You whimper, pushing your ass back into his cock in surprise, the hardened thickness of it rubbing snugly into your clothed pussy. Layers of fabric separate you from each other, but you realize, terrified, that the gusset of your panties are now becoming wetter, and wetter, as he groans and grinds his hips, calling you sweetheart, darlin’, baby . Saying please as if he's not already taking from you. 

He brushes your nipples with his fingers. You claw at his wrists, fingers digging into his corded by veins, but he doesn't even budge. 

“Bo– too much– ”

You wail as he starts tweaking them. It zaps through your entire body. Live current straight to your core, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and drowning the world in white. You think you’ve kicked his shins. That only makes him gyrate more fervently into your cunt.

“Fuck, these tits ,” he sucks in, practically inhaling your cheek. “These perfect fuckin’ tits. I dreamt about ‘em the moment I laid eyes– Oh my god, I wanted to grab ‘em so fuckin’ bad. Could see your nipples poking through in this dress- almost went nuts–”

Bokuto squeezes them together, sluggish and deliberate, oohing and aahing as he kneads them apart, then squeezes them together, and pinches your nipples. You don't know if he's being mindful or if he wants to savor your humiliation at being manhandled. With him, it's probably both. 

“Can't wait till they get so heavy with milk– Gonna help you– Gonna suck it out for you like a good husband should– I can't wait anymore–”

Zipper comes undone behind you. 

You thrash out. Bokuto tuts as he pins you to him. 

“Careful, mommy,” he coos, his fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. “Don't move too much. Don't wanna hurt you.”

The tip of his cock stretches your pussy lips, fat head dripping, sliding back and forth into your hole. 

“Oh…! Bokuto, no, no..!” He pushes in and you already feel like bursting. His thrusts start shallow, not even shoving half of him, but then they stop staying shallow, and you cringe as you feel him edging close inside. “Not too deep p-please, please, the baby– not too deep not too deep not–”

You’re bawling, almost tasting your snot as you grasp at his arms, and all he does is laugh .

“M’sorry. Too big? You're alright. Won't go too deep. Promise.” 

He does keep his promise in the end, oscillating between “ please, please, wanna fuck you so bad” and “can't, can't, can't ” until he's growling nonsense; until he's no longer recognizable from the man who’d called himself your big brother, his hold on you dangerously close to choking you into unconsciousness. 

“ You feel so fuckin’ good, ” he mumbles fervently as he twitches inside you. “ So fuckin’ good you're such a good mommy we’re gonna be mommy ‘n daddy soon I love you so much I love you I love you I love you– ”

The pressure builds like water– the higher it rises the faster you sink, as you spasm and contract around him, then falling apart in the dark without a single sound. 

You finally open your eyes as you feel him shoot thick ropes inside you. Bokuto thrusts his cum, making sure it doesn't spill out, he says, and you turn to the sky. 

It's gotten dimmer, you think. 

Wispy clouds drift along. Migratory birds flying into a V in the distance. And you wonder if god has many faces, and if, maybe, they're all grinning down at you.

  –

The first game ends with a card.

Bokuto buys everything he’s ever wanted. He dines at the places where everything’s pint sized and complicated to eat. He gets fast cars and even faster motorbikes that almost kill him. He gets himself limited edition sneakers. He gets himself a model and a stripper and an actress and someone who's all three.

He goes around the world and dives out of a moving plane and does everything that makes his blood sing, then he comes back home and he buys himself a place that has a pool and a jacuzzi and a court and a private theater and a game room and when he's alone at night he thinks about the people he stole it all from and he throws up in his big, big, brand spanking new house. 

  –

The second game ends with an invitation given to him in the limo going back, which he turns down because, “ Your mask is creepy, dude. I’m not wearing that .”

He doesn't know why he came back, even when he finds out, eventually, why they allowed him to. The last dinner was shared between Bokuto and two other people– a man and a woman, both older than him, both ex-military. It gargles out of them, after Bokuto has them under his knees, that they've been here before too, just like him.

Their audience is getting bored, Bokuto figures. 

He returns to that big, empty house wealthier than before and with a clearer idea on what he wants to buy next. 

He may know jack shit about the specifics of putting his money into things that can double it, but Bokuto knows a lot about deals. He knows how to smile at the people that look at him and only see another set of limbs that’ll keep their plates full. The rooms may be different this time around, nicer and with a lot less killing, but it's all still the same game. He knows about luck and getting a crowd going and most of all he knows a lot about hunger. 

So he gets himself a seat at the tables that he never even would’ve been allowed to get close to all those years ago. He gets himself teams that have molded their bodies into playing games, big ones where luck and crowds and hunger flow like blood off gutted arteries. And he doesn't really have to, but he gets and handpicks the players himself, because he knows best the kind of animal that possesses the audacity to stand in the middle of any court, any arena, any stadium, and bring its spectators– every last insatiable one of them, on their feet.

And as he watches from the sidelines, he imagines a world where the circumstances are different and everything goes as planned and survival does not have to come at the cost of destroying yourself. And he imagines that in that world, it is him– Bokuto Kotaro, that hits the ball and makes the score and brings the crowd to its feet. 

  –

The third game ends with an encrusted ring in the pocket of his suit. 

It takes a couple more years until the audience gets bored again. He comes back mostly because, well, why not?  It's not so bad, playing.

The kicker this time around is that most, if not all, of the players are of the same breed as Bokuto– animals who have the strength to get whatever they want and the desire to get it however they want. 

Except for you.

You come waddling to Bokuto with your head down, hands over your belly, and jacket zipped up to your chin like a hen protecting herself from the cold. 

The cutest little thing to have ever existed.

You ask him if you could join Bokuto’s team because, of course, nobody wants you. The woman next to him– the first one who manages to put a scratch on Bokuto much later in the game, says that he shouldn't, because she could tell that you’re at least six weeks pregnant and you’ll hold them back and no good mother would ever put herself in this kind of situation in the first place. 

Bokuto keeps you anyway. 

Pregnant girl. All on her own. Nobody to rely on. Somebody’s gotta look out for you, he decides.

After that game, he knows that he made the right choice. You’ve got blisters on your palms from all the rope pulling and you’re thanking him for saving your life. He tells you not to sweat it, and to call him Bokuto from now on. 

You say, “Okay, Bo-kun,” while caressing your bump, pretty eyes begging him to protect you and guide you and put another one inside you, and that’s when it dawns on Bokuto–

He's the only thing standing between you and this world’s bottomless stomach. 

And ever since then Bokuto just couldn’t stop thinking, “ What will happen to you if he's no longer there?” So he runs faster, and strikes even harder, and, for the first time in a long while, he feels like all of this– running, hitting, staying alive – now, isn't it all just so much fun ?

Bokuto smiles at the memory as he fishes out the ring from his pocket, then tosses it to the other side of the pond.

“You’re not keeping it?” Game master guy’s words filter through his mask, stripping it of all feeling.

It kinda bums him out. For all he knows the dude might actually be sad that there's not going to be a fourth time.

“Not her type,” Bokuto tells him. “Diamond’s too freakin’ large, man. Could poke somebody's eyes out.”

He closes his fly, dusts off the blazer to cover you with it, then carries you in his arms. There's a ceaseless drumming in his chest that only gets louder seeing you sound asleep, tucked safely into his chest. He doesn't even bother with combing his hair.

The pink dudes have got their guns ready behind game master guy, index to the trigger. Bokuto wets his lips, and he doesn't miss the way they all flinch. 

“It's a shame, Player 388. Our valued guests were looking forward to your proposal.” 

That makes him snort. “Tell ‘em I said sorry.”

“Quite unnecessary,” he says. “We should be thanking you. You always deliver.” 

“Yeah, well, not really hard to put two and two together.” 

Fancy ring. Suit. Gown that still gives him a boner looking at you in it. Bokuto might be a genius.

The pond soaks his slacks again as he walks through it. He frowns. You won't like that. Bokuto ignores his socks since Game master guy accidentally kicked the other pair into the water with his big feet. Bokuto wears his shoes without them, itching for a shower that’ll scald the grime off of him. And you. 

A nice, hot shower with you. Now, that's heaven–

Game master guy doesn't move out of the way, though. He doesn't budge even as Bokuto very politely says, “‘Scuse.”

Bokuto then looks at him. He looks and he laughs. And he dares them.

He stands there with the mother of his children in his arms and begs, “Go on. Do something fuckin’ funny .”

They part for him. 

“The offer still stands,” comes from Game master guy.

“Dude,” Bokuto whines, not even looking back. “Just tell me you’ll miss me like a normal person!” 

    –

The house feels warmer when he returns. It feels smaller, too, which he does not mind at all, especially now that there's a happy family of three to fill it. 

[milli-moi]

Honestly, I have other thoughts on a few of your reads here on Agatha’s reasoning for wanting to make Wanda believe she is evil. At first I thought I disagreed but I don’t think I do, I think I more want to open the door (pun not initially intended - and then very intended) to other aspects of this pain.

I have a different perspective and honestly when I rewatched Wandavision after watching AAA I really felt seen.

I will never be a parent, it’s something I’ve wanted my whole life but in recent years my partner and I have come to accept that we don’t think we would be able to be the parents what we would want to be and that a child deserves due to our combination of disabilities.

This hurts like hell. I was somewhat numb to it for a year or two but then last year we learned that a friend who we used to be very close to and who had been told she might never have children, was pregnant. This destroyed me in a way I hadn’t expected it to and it continues to destroy me in a lot of ways. One of the things I hate most is an unbelievable jealousy.

I am not a jealous person- yes I’ve had moments but generally I am happy for people. The jealousy I have every time I see this friend’s family and other friends share photos of them spending time with the baby my thoughts are unreasonable.

Through this, watching another person you know (or relate to in Agatha’s case) live the life you wanted, you craved, and have it come to them so easily when you have suffered so much pain to not even have the outcome you needed, I felt a huge connection to Agatha.

I have not lost a child, no, but I have lost the possibility of being a parent and although it isn’t the same pain it is incredibly intense and hard to live with.

Agatha needs Wanda to be the bad guy, needs her to suffer because Wanda got the things she wanted, and if there was such a thing as deserving a happy ending then Agatha doesn’t see why her and Wanda deserved different things. They both had traumatic childhoods, they both turned to darkness to cope -Wanda to Hydra, Agatha to killing witches and dark magic - but Wanda, in a way, was rewarded for that. Wanda got adopted by the avengers, she got a new home, a purpose, a chance to be loved.

Agatha got her chance to be loved for the first time by Death. How cruel and ironic and filled with metaphor about unloved children is that? And even then, in a life of around 360 years, Agatha maybe got 50 years of happiness before it all fell apart.

Wanda experienced loss, but she was supported and comforted and then on top of that she got her children, her ‘spontaneous creation of life’ - just like she had with Rio, except Wanda’s boys got to live.

Agatha hates Wanda in a few ways, feels so much warmth towards her in others, but I think a lot of the hate, the anger is a case of ‘why do you get to be happy?’

On bad days, days when I’m really heavily reminded of my own life situation, without going into too many details I can say that I have wanted to say this to so many people. I think it’s a valid response when you have had disabilities, illnesses and conditions, mental health and your own sexuality hold you back so often.

When you look at the happy family your friend has and it makes you feel sick because you feel so many emotions, and in ways you never thought you were even capable of.

WANDAVISION DEEP DIVE part 3

(Wandavision entries: part [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

We left Agatha killing her coven in a flashback (but sparing their children). Back to present Agatha, and what is she doing? Pretending to talk to her rabbit. Look, she might be a dedicated con artist, but she can only come up with very cheesy characters, what can you do?

Is she meeting the real you, Agatha, are you sure?

oh she's so intrigued

She's about to be very very cruel, and there's a lot to unpack here. To her torture is a mean to an end, but there's also rage, jealousy, bitterness, so much bitterness there. She hates witches, and she hates Wanda. She also can't help sympathizing with Wanda, the parallels between the two of them are obvious. There are always so many contradicting emotions in Agatha.

Like, the way she's been teaching her about magic. She's taunting her, she's showing off. But once upon a time she was a clueless young witch denied knowledge from her elders. And now that Wanda is in that position, she could teach her. She almost wants to. She is curious, she loves learning, finding out how things work, and in other, better universes she is a teacher.

*angrily shakes a bird at Wanda*

LOOK WHO'S TALKING, OH MY GOD. But honestly though, that's why she can't help sympathizing. They are the same.

And she is a biiiiiit in lust too tbh. Not her fault she has a high libido. Agatha is having a DAY.

A good rule of thumb is, the more Agatha jokes, the more she's uncomfortable with a situation, the fact that she's making fun of a little boy tells you right away that she doesn't mean it. Sarcasm is her defense skill. She was barely able to contain her rage a moment ago, she is not as calm as she appears. And she doesn't like having to sit through Wanda's trauma one bit, both because she's sorry for Wanda and because she doesn't want to witness that pain herself. She had hoped to crack Wanda without having to do this, but she won't step down now, she won't relent.

that's a whole lesbian, dear god. thank you costume and hair departments and thank you kathryn hahn.

my theory is that detective Agnes of Westview was clearly created by Agatha herself rather than Wanda and speaks about her grim personality and eagerness to solve mysteries, but we'll get to that later

that's interesting, she smiles at Wanda, looks worried at the door for a second, then smiles at Wanda again. play acting or real concern? Wanda wasn't looking at her face in that moment.

her body language is something between intrigued and defensive

NOT THIS BITCH DRYING HER EYES AGAIN AT THE "WHAT IS GRIEF BUT LOVE PERSEVERING" SPEECH.

You know what though, for Agatha to know exactly what buttons to push to break Wanda, she'd need to have a deep understanding of how trauma and grief work. Which means she knows the way she blames Rio and hangs up on Nicky's memory is not healthy, but she is unwilling or unable to make an effort towards healing. Not that you can ever completely heal from something like that tbh, but she knows the way she's acting is making things worse.

The slow clap, she's such a cheesy villain. That (gay) way she sits though, she wants both to project strength and to shield her body, she is nervous. She's now 100% sure that Wanda is the Scarlet Witch. Time for her last gamble.

Knowing Agatha as we know her now, it's easy to see she's wearing her best witchy costume to put on the ultimate show. She made Wanda cry to get at her secrets, now it's time to make her angry. She could just have provoked her in the first place, but like I said she's at her core a coward detective and scholar and yearns to learn stuff. I really do believe that Billy and Tommy weren't in any actual danger here and it looks worse than it is. On the other hand, she is absolutely scaring them shitless, but like with Sparky she chooses to ignore their mental well-being if it gets her what she wants. She's not physically hurting them so that's fine, right? And, well, she did the same with Nicky. She loved him so desperately and also selfishly kept him isolated and kept killing in his name. There's a reason why she feels so guilty and can't face him now.

The parallels, tho. The episode starting with Evanora calling her a monster, and ending with her calling Wanda a monster.

Last episode!!!!

telling the kids to take cover as soon as she can get away with it. Wanted to hurt them my ass.

Pathetic! Are you even a real witch? Yep, her usual bit. And especially harsh too. Agatha is gambling a LOT here.

"The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no power, no need for incantation." Agatha was forged the same way, with pain and hellfire, does that give her a claim to Wanda's magic? (Also, power of mother earth on the poster behind? How very green witch!)

How hard and deliberately Agatha is working to traumatize Wanda even further, to make her believe she's a monster. And Agatha is in such an unique position to understand what Wanda is going through, what it means to be called evil for something you are and not for something you do. She knows what it means not being able to control your powers, Wanda never meant to hurt any of these people! She could teach her, offer her community and support. But what does Agatha do instead? Exactly what her mother did to her.

She wants to kill her to take her powers, and she wants to kill her because she's afraid of her. And yet she's also looking in a mirror. Doesn't her neck thingy look like a clergy collar too? She's on the other side of inquisition now.

have you ever read Passing by Nella Larsen? it made me think a lot about how marginalized communities isolate their most vulnerable members and recreate the dynamics of the oppressor, as a way to keep some form of control and also to express their trauma and anger. Wanda didn't do anything to Agatha, but she's the perfect target for Agatha to vent all her pain and anger and frustration.

Wanda tries to copy Agatha and make her relive her traumas, not a good idea trying to manipulate the master manipulator. Agatha has studied and observed and knows a lot about Wanda and that is why her manipulation is so effective, Wanda doesn't know Agatha at all, she's only heard lies so far. Here for example she assumes that Agatha killed the Salemites on purpose, she has no clue that their situations are so similar.

I told you that witches wouldn't accept you, that they would call you a monster and come after you. So much bitterness. That's Agatha's tragedy, and that is what's behind all her selfishness, killing witches, keeping Nicky isolated, torturing Wanda. Passing her trauma along. As much as she chose to be what she currently is... choosing the opposite would have been much easier if she had a community cherishing and teaching her. Just look at how much having an actual loving coven, even for a short time, will make a difference in the future.

and then Wanda wins not because she's more powerful but because Agatha couldn't stop herself from blabbing and showing off and teaching about runes. oh, the irony

what WANDA'S done???? Agatha, you've been poking a nexus being with a stick for days, you useless fuckup (affectionate)

lmaooo she fell ass up

LOOK WHO'S TALKING

Agatha under the spell immediately flirting with Wanda is maybe top five most hilarious things she's ever done

and that's a wrap! Ballad of the witches road here I come!

go to AAA part 1

[mylittlepimp]

It was meant to be a marriage of politics, and instead she finds herself as the caregiver. Surrogate mother most days.

Emperor Caracalla is sweet. Often child like. Innocent. But easily manipulated.

Emperor Geta is not as sweet or innocent. He's often angry. Hungry. Fearsome.

Both are troubled and unloved. Both somehow lean on her, and only her for their needs.

Emperor Geta loves to show her off during the day. Parade her around on his arm, dress her in the finest gold accessories and beautiful fabrics that compliment her skin. She's his after all. His wife.

But by night.

Emperor Caracalla seeks her comfort. To be held by her, while he mumbles on and on about how mean Geta is to him. She'll hold Caracalla's head in her lap, run her fingers through his hair, and she'll listen to him.

These routines have been going on for years.

Until Emperor Geta finds out that is.

Emperor Geta shouts at his brother, screaming at him like a rabid hound to stay away from his wife!

Emperor Caracalla is reduced to tears, begging on his knees to stay around her. He doesn't want to lose his only lifeline to the care, the love, and the longing he so desperately desires.

Emperor Geta throws his cup of wine at his brother. He won't hear of it. His brother's tears mean nothing to him. His begging pointless. She's his wife and he does not share with anyone!

(part 2)

Emperor Geta found his brother's tears to be weakness. She's his wife! Why the hell does his brother need her? He seeks the company of men! If his brother wanted a wife, Geta would've gotten him one!

Emperor Caracalla continues to cry and beg. No one else was nice to him the way that she is! No one saw him the way that she did! She's the only one that he feels can help him!

She can't take the tears anymore. She runs over to Emperor Caracalla, wrapping her arms around him, and shushing him while she rocks him back and forth.

Emperor Geta feels disgusted by this, he grabs her by the wrist pulling them apart.

Emperor Caracalla screams in protest as he tries to grab her hand and keep her.

She tries grabbing Emperor Caracalla's hand in return, but Emperor Geta yanks her away.

Emperor Geta decides to change how he treats her. At night he chains her to his bed, only by her wrist or ankle... Nothing more. As cruel as he's known to be, he does want her comfortable.

She's miserable. Sulking on the floor next to the bed. Being forced to listen to Emperor Caracalla cry at night or stumble around drunk. She wants to help him, but she can't.

In public Emperor Geta has added to her jewelry. A chain on her hand and wrist. He doesn't keep her physically confined to him, but he does make a display that she's only his. Trying his best to be... Somewhat discreet without drawing too much attention.

(visual representation of what I had in mind)

Of course it's only made from the finest gold. It matches every outfit he puts on her.

In public is the only time that she can see Emperor Caracalla. But they don't speak or interact together. They only exchange glances, small smiles, or looks. Like a silent conversation only they understand.

Emperor Caracalla looks miserable. Just as she feared. He tries replacing her every night with a different woman, but they aren't her.

Emperor Geta gets angry with his brother, finding his misery a distraction. Especially during their war plans and their gladiator games.

It finally gets to a point that Emperor Geta confronts his brother in a big argument. Wondering why he can't just get over her? Why can't he just move on? That wasn't Caracalla's wife he stole. In fact he didn't steal her at all! She's always been Geta's wife!

Emperor Geta looks at his brother confused. Assuming the worst that Caracalla, had infected Geta's wife with his disease this entire time.

But it wasn't about sex.

While Emperor Geta was seeking the comfort of other people at night. Geta would leave his wife alone. That's when she came across Emperor Caracalla, crying to his monkey about how horrible Geta was to him.

Emperor Caracalla stared at her for several minutes. He wasn't sure what to think or what to say. Eventually he offered her a grape.

She smiled at Emperor Caracalla's offer, even giggling a little.

Emperor Caracalla liked that. It made him smile in return. He decided to tell her silly stories, even acting out some of the scenes himself. Just to make her giggle.

She soon decided to add to Caracalla's stories. Doing her best to act out the scenes as well.

Emperor Caracalla started to like her. Especially since she was nothing like his brother and his other wives.

She made Emperor Caracalla comfortable, safe, and seen.

That's how she ended up in his quarters every night listening to him, comforting him, and making him feel seen.

When Emperor Geta walked into his brother's quarters and saw him with Geta's wife. That's why had assumed Caracalla poisoned Geta's wife.

But that wasn't the case.

Emperor Geta doesn't change his mind on keeping his brother away from Geta's wife. But now he knows what really happened.

She watches from around the corner, silently hoping that Emperor Geta will change his mind.

(part 3 soon)

@fandomsearcherforcuntymen

[genderqueerdykes]

How to deal w a longtime friend that at some point became a radfem? I was bad at recognising it back then when there were clear signs and didnt know how to argue, so i stayed passive and argeeable, esp since im a nonbinary guy n shes a (sorta questioning) cis girl.

When i showed discomfort with her doing the "i hate all men" type stuff she's said "omg you're not one of those 'not all men' types" and bc i didnt know at the time i backed off, n she also mentioned how she sees/treats both trans men n cis men the same

I mean ive always felt like she's treated me that way, or that i felt like i needed to stay silent or had more priviledge when around her, despite being pre-everything and pr much closeted in my everyday life, or felt more like i was a binary man around her when im not

She has also been sorta weirdly sex/kink negative or made fun of it, for some time i figured that it was just a bit bc of her being sex repulsed n her being immature, but i still felt sorta more ashamed regarding my kinkiness/sexuality around her when not (were both on the aroace spectrum, though i figured out more recently)

Also parroting radfem rhetoric about "well the sex industry is harmful" (..every capitalistic industry is harmful) and when mentioning kinks/fetishes for some reason often brought up "but what about those kinks where people get off to women starving themselves/having problems w their weight" which is like?? Yea okay if they are doing that to real people thats bad but like what kink/fetish spaces do you hang out in where that would be the first thing you'd bring up??

I also once remember her mentioning that she felt weird about her own connection to masculinity, which i sussed and esp now sus might be due to her being this man-hating

She's told me "you don't have an issue w the 'man vs bear' thing since you're a guy right?" but i didnt feel like arguing at that time so i just agreed and quickly moved onto another subject

Looking back at older texts, she's also said before that im "one of the few men she actually respects"

I've realised how harmful and bull radfem rhetoric is now, n i want to keep a distance from her, but idk how to deal w it bc ive always been the more agreeable and peace-keeping one between us

i'm so sorry you had to go through this. radfems are possessive of the identities of everyone around them to the point of coming up with the most asinine bullshit to make other people feel insecure and question themselves and just go along with whatever the hell they're saying. it's toxic and abusive.

whenever i talk about transmasculine and trans male issues, i get those "oh you're one of those not all men types" as well. it's such a useless thing to say. like if the thing you're opposing is people making blanket statements about women and being treated like a monolith, why are you doing it to someone else? that's the example you're setting, but yet you expect different treatment? double standard.

the sex & kink negativity in radfeminism is exhausting, too. it's not progressive. a lot of people choose to go into sex work and enjoy it. some don't mind it. some are okay with that being their job. a lot of people are exploited, but not everyone is. like you said, it's the capitalist corruption of these industry that causes problems. like you said, people instantly jump to the worst possible conclusion when the subject of kink comes up

the normal song and dance is "men who are into BDSM are only straight guys who are misogynistic and want to beat women. women who are into BDSM are scared and confused and being taken advantage of and are enabling abusive men." they have very few arguments and they're all so far out of left field that it's not relevant to the type of conversation you're having in that moment. making blanket statements about all kinky people being abusive in some way... that's profiling.

at this point its your choice if you continue to interact with her. if you do, you are allowed to stand your ground and tell her that those kinds of things make you very uncomfortable and that it's just not okay. if she can't handle that, then it's not your job to try to change her mind. if she cares about you, she'll treat you with respect. i hope that's the case, but you don't owe time or energy to people who treat you like garbage. good luck, stay safe

[witchygagirlwrites]

Broken Bonds-Part 25

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, (Eventual) Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton

While Mouse is at training intelligence tackles a case that helps you figure out that something might have been helping yours and Jay's friendship reform. (Upstead rises?)

A new balance meant so many things for your life. Mouse fully being back in it for one, yeah he was in Georgia currently but you talked to him every morning and every night. He’d text you throughout the day and both of you now used the video call option on your phone regularly. It also meant Addy getting used to spending nights split between your place and Jay’s.

You knew that the one and one thing wouldn’t hold when she got older but for now? She was young enough it didn’t bother her any, besides the fact that the dark circles under his eyes had faded in the last couple weeks and his smile was starting to return meant the world to you. He’d even started to joke around with you at work again, you knew things weren’t back to where they were and there was a chance they would never be but he was trying and you loved him for that.

Jay had Addy the night before so waking up was a bit of a struggle without hearing her over the monitor. You stretched out your muscles, the gym was very much calling your name. That heavy bag needed hitting. Maybe Hailey or Stella would want to go with you? You reached for your phone about the time a text came through and you smiled when you saw the photo of Mouse with his longer hair he’d sent you before he’d had to get it cut for training pop up before you clicked the message Good morning to the most beautiful detective that ever walked. I love you. Have a good day. Stay safe you shook your head and texted back Don’t know about the most beautiful but from you I’ll take it. I love you too. Call me tonight? His response came through almost immediately Of course. Give Addy a hug from me

You sent a text to Stella and Hailey to ask if one or both wanted to go to the gym with you then got up to get ready.

Once you were dressed you came back to the text thread with the two to see Stella had texted Sorry honeybee early meeting at the station but Hailey had texted I’ll meet ya there Wifey 

You replied to Stella telling her to have a good day and you loved her then asked Hailey when she wanted to meet.

“It actually does feel better starting the day” Hailey laughed as the two of you walked up the stairs into the bullpen. Jay looked up from the file he was reading over and raised an eyebrow “Do I want to know here or?” you grinned “I took her to the gym with me, introduced her to the beauty of beating the hell out of the heavy bag before work” 

He looked from you to Hailey “That’s terrifying. The two of you, tore loose in a boxing gym” She laughed “What is it Halstead? Worried we may team up on you?” he shook his head “No, I know better than pissing either of you off” she grinned “Good. I’d hate for Addy to know her daddy got his ass kicked by her mommy and her auntie Hayhay”

He cut his eyes at you “Auntie Hayhay?” you shrugged “Everyone has kind of figured out she’s narrowing in on talking age or first words age and so they’re shortening or making their names easier” he looked back at Hailey then nodded slowly “Ok then”

Adam raised his hand “How the hell do I shorten Adam?” you shook your head “Easy, Ruz” he shrugged “I’ll take it” Kevin grinned “She gonna want her uncle Kev anyways Ruzek so don’t worry about it”  the two of them started in on who would be her favorite uncle out of the unit and you shook your head. 

You caught Jay’s eye and he smiled “They’re idiots but they love our daughter. That’s what counts right?” you smiled “Like you said we built her a strong family” for the first time since he found out you’d slept with Mouse again you didn’t see pain in Jay’s eyes when he looked at you.  “I think we’re doing pretty well for her” 

“Didn’t I teach you most of this crap?” you asked Kevin, tossing a ball up piece of paper at his head before glancing back at your computer screen. You caught his grin out of the corner of your eye “Yeah but you’re better at it” 

You spun around as your mouth fell open “No sir! We do not do weaponized incompetence around here! Get your ass to this screen!” you pushed away from your desk and he laughed before scooting his chair around to take your place. You watched him go through the programs, making sure he hit all the right steps. You finally had someone you could call if you got stumped, he couldn’t run it but he could talk you through other ways.

A ding chimed from your computer and you clapped your hands “Lookie there Kev. You did it all by yourself” he shook his head with a laugh “I love you but you’re kind of mean to me at times” you shrugged “But you love me, that’s what counts”

You walked over to lean over him and look at the screen “So much for his ass not being anywhere near the crime scene. He lights up the board. His phone and his car frequented the area. We just tripped him up on one lie, lets see what other lie Jay and Hailey can trip him up on”

__________

You stood up and walked back to the interrogation room they had the suspect in and opened the door “Can I speak with one of you?” Jay and Hailey glanced up then at each other. They shrugged “He isn’t going anywhere” then they both stood to follow you out into the hallway.

You glanced back towards the closed door of the room before saying “We just rolled his ass up in one lie. He lit up the board for the crime scene surrounding area, almost like he was scoping it out leading up to the drugs rolling into town” “That makes him seem alot higher up on the food chain than we originally thought” Jay said and you nodded “Which makes me think, if he was why would he lie. Most of em are cocky about it. This guy was scared almost. I think you two may be able to take this and flip him. Get us a meeting and access to the man actually bringing in the fentanyl” Hailey winked at you “We’ll get him to flip babe” Jay nodded “Just give us a little time sweetheart. We’ll have this asshole ready to give us everything”

You watched them walk back in and hoped like hell they flipped him. This was what you needed, a man on the inside. So far this crap had killed half a dozen but the number of OD’s were increasing daily. The crap wasn’t cut, it was too freaking strong and what was cut was done so with crap like bug repellant. This guy was an ass but the guy he was working for? He was a fucking bitch and you meant that in the absolute worst way possible.

_____________

You walked back out to your desk, everyone turning their eyes at you as if you were supposed to know right then and there what was going on. You sat down and started checking your emails. You were halfway through clearing them out when Hailey and Jay came walking out of the back hallway. You cut your eyes up at Jay and he gave a slight nod. They flipped him. The unit now had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting this crap off the street. 

“What now?” you asked and Hailey sighed “He needed buyers” you desperately didn’t want to go back under and knew Jay felt the same. “We’ll do it” Kim offered and you cut your eyes at her “What?” she nodded “Me and Adam or me and Kev. We can do it” Yeah like that would make you feel better, not at all. Hailey shrugged “Said he likes rich white couples with security guards. Sounds to me like all three of you may be able to do this” 

“What about me?” you asked and Jay pointed between him and Hailey “You’ll be in the surveillance van with us. We’ll be recording the buy and wanting to call in backup when it’s all going down” you nodded “Ok, sounds like a plan. Who’s telling Voight?” “Tell me what?” Hank asked from Jay and nearly made all of you jump in surprise. 

“Guy flipped. He’s willing to play the middle man and get us a meet. Ideal clientele is rich white couples rocking security” Hailey explained. He nodded “Kim, Kev and Ruzek?” “Yes sir” you replied. “Ok. Run with it”

You laughed, chasing Addy across the living room. She’d started crawling and was already a professional at putting you through your paces. “Adeline Halstead! Come your little butt back here!” she giggled harder. She was mumbling as she crawled, different sounds coming out. Leave it up to you and Jay to produce a kid that turned out to be an early crawler and looked like she was going to end up being an early talker too. 

Her dark curls bounced along with her and you laughed as she made it to the pillows you’d laid out. You could only imagine when she started walking. When you picked her up from daycare Chloe had warned that she was being a little menace with the crawling. Jay had a bruised shin from chasing her and catching the corner of the wall but then again he somehow worried more than you did. She had been a daddy’s girl since she started moving and it seemed like that would never change, not that you wanted it to. You adored how much Jay loved her. That man was the most amazing father you’d ever seen.That was why you were working so hard on a balance, on fighting to rebuild your relationship with Mouse and your friendship with Jay. The love you held for them both was too important to you.

“Addy! We can go meet hayhay for dinner!” you called out and she stopped to look at you. You tilted your head to the side. “Baby girl? Do you like hayhay?” she giggled and you laughed “I’ll be damned. Did Hailey just win when it comes to people outside me, daddy and stelstel?”

She started crawling back to you and you held your arms out for her “Come on baby” she made it to you and fell against your thigh. “Oh my big girl!” you cooed, scooping her up.

__________________

“I won!” Hailey grinned from across you where she sat in the booth holding Addy who was picking at the pasta you’d gotten her. “I knew you were going to rub that in” she nodded “Oh I’m calling Jay as soon as I leave here! Baby girl recognized my name?” you laughed “Or she recognized the word dinner or was just tired of the game” she shook her head “Nope, she wanted her hayhay” she leaned over to nuzzle her nose at Addy’s chest “Isn’t that right little miss?”

Addy laughed and you felt your heart jump hearing it. Hailey was so fucking adorbale being so happy at something that honestly could be a coincidence but you were not about to take it from her. No way, no shape no form were you going to try to diminish anyone who found that much joy in thinking your daughter had a recognition of them.

“She knows who takes care of her daddy in the field, same reason she likes uncle Kev” you laughed and Hailey nodded “Exactly. Uncle Kev protects mommy and Hayhay keeps daddy in one piece”

_______________

After dinner you could already hear Hailey calling Jay as you loaded Addy into your jeep. “Jay! Addy recongized my name! She wanted me!” she bragged and you shook your head as you buckled Addy in then closed her door to turn to see Hailey grinning brightly. You couldn’t hear his side of the conversation but her smile and the look in her eyes stopped you mid words forming on your lips. That didn’t look partner calling partner happy, did it?

Was Hailey starting to develop feelings for Jay? You’d been back with Mouse for almost two months, they worked together daily, you knew first hand Jay was an amazing man.  You would not be nosy, nope. Her smile though, that warmed your heart. Seeing anyone find happiness in this world? It was worth it.

“Night Hails. Tell Jay I said night” you called out and she waved “Night wifey. Love ya and Jay says night” you climbed in your jeep and buckled up before turning the engine over. She headed for her car and you headed home.

______________

Addy was already fast asleep and you were sitting in your bed when your phone rang with a video call. You swiped to answer and a smile slipped onto your face the moment you saw Mouse “Hey baby” “Hello beautiful. Where’s little miss? Already asleep?”

You nodded “She’s crawling so much. Jay has a bruise the entire length of his shin from slamming into the wall” he grimaced “Damn, though doesn’t surprise me when it comes to her. He’d do anything to try to keep her safe” you felt your heart flip hearing him talk so fondly about Jay.  “How’s things in the peace state?” you asked and he groaned “I’m ready for this to be over already. I’m relearning so much crap I already knew just so they can say I know it. I want to be home full time in Chicago”

You felt a smile slip onto your face “Why Mr Gerwitz, it sounds like you got someone you want to get home to” he grinned “Oh yeah. She’s gorgeous, detective with the CPD. Got the cutest kid and to be honest? There’s not a lot that could keep me from coming home to her” “Wow,not even two months back together and it's that serious?” you teased and he shrugged “Two months back together but she’s had my heart from the moment I laid eyes on her”

You felt your heart flip “I love you Greg, so damn much” “I love you too sweetheart, so damn much” you and him ended up talking for the better part of an hour before he had to go. After you hung up with him and plugged your phone in you went and checked on Addy then crashed yourself. The initial meet was scheduled for the following day.

Why the hell did the surveillance van feel like it was so damn small? Oh yeah, the new one had less space in the back and more equipment. The more equipment part was a really good thing, the less room part was proving to be a really bad thing. 

You had helped Kevin wire Kim and Adam then wired Kevin yourself back at the precinct. It wouldn’t pick up on most equipment unless they had some N.S.A. shit going on. You, Jay and Hailey had gotten here and parked to get into position and to triangulate getting patrol in the areas they needed to be in should things go south and your people need an extraction.

You and Jay were sitting in the back of the van, watching the multiple monitors of the country club, yes country club where the meet was happening. Hailey had slipped out to talk to Voight. “This place costs more than my jeep did every freaking month” you mumbled and Jay laughed “It costs more than your jeep and you can’t even get a burger” you nudged his shoulder with yours “That’s what I’m saying!” and saw a smirk slip onto his face. Every time you managed to get a smile or the slightest of reaction out of him you felt like you’d won the damned lottery. Rather you were meant to be with him or not you had so much love in your heart for the man next to you, you truly loved him and the time you’d spent with him barely able to look at you? Barely speaking to you outside of it having to deal with your daughter? It had torn your heart apart.

____________

The back door cracked open and Hailey slid in “Seller just arrived. Six patrol cars are in place” she closed the door and looked around at the limited space before shrugging and sliding into your lap. You reshifted your hips to comfortably support her weight and slipped your arms around her waist to still be able to type.

Jay sat staring at the two of you until you both slowly turned your head to look at him “Yes Mr Halstead?” he motioned with his hand between the two of you “Why does this continue to happen at every given chance? Every time I turn around one of you is on the other or you’re cuddling?” You grinned at him from around Hailey’s back “Are you wanting to sit in my lap Jay?” he shook his head “No thanks sweetheart” and turned his eyes back to the screen so you asked “Or are you wanting Hailey to sit in yours” and saw a blush creep up his neck but before either of them could say anything else the sell started happening. 

All of you turned your eyes to the screen and you pulled Hailey’s radio off her hip “Patrol be ready” “Copy that”

The initial meeting turned into the seller wanting Kim and Adam to come with them to their warehouse which was exactly what you wanted. “Patrol, we're on the move. Keep ears on the radio for your new positioning” you spoke across the radio as Jay went to the front to drive the van and Hailey hopped out to go hop in with Voight.

With any luck this thing would be wrapped within a couple hours and the fentanyl would never get the chance to hit the streets of Chicago.

___________________

You stood between Jay and Voight as all of you geared up behind his SUV. Kim had changed into the change of clothes you bought her because she’d been stuck in a dress. “We go in fast, hit em hard and clear em out. We know what we’re doing. Get it done” 

You bumped Kevin’s shoulder as you took your long gun from Jay “Let’s get it” he nodded “I got you” 

The total amount seized between drugs and money recovered was two point six million. A big haul even for intelligence. The haul wasn’t what mattered, hell the bust wasn’t really what mattered. Getting the damned dope out of the street. That was what mattered. No more people would be dying from this particular asshole.

You were heading out to your jeep when you heard Jay calling you. You turned to see him headed your way “Don’t you need to get going to pick our daughter up?” he nodded “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner with us. Talk about Halloween?” you smiled “I’d love to. Where are we eating?”

__________

You and Jay were sitting in a corner booth, both of you turned with a knee bent on the seat and Addy between you “Is Mouse coming home that weekend?” he asked and you cut your eyes up, you understood Mouse still being a sore subject between you and Jay but he smiled slightly “I’m just asking sweetheart, no ulterior motive. I’m trying, not just for her. I miss you. I miss this, us being able to just be us without it being weird. We have been in each other’s lives for so long I don’t know how to not have you in my life like this”

You smiled “I miss you too Jay. I love you, you’re my best friend and mean the absolute world to me. He has the option to fly home that weekend” he nodded “I think he should. If he’s going to be in your life, he’s going to be in hers””Ok. I’ll tell him” you said and he nodded then a grin worked its way onto his face “How do we shorten Mouse anyways? Mou?” 

You barked out a laugh, not only at the question but from the look on his face “I guess? Whatever works” he shrugged. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth before saying “Ya know on Halloween it would be me, Mouse, Kelly and Stella with you. Why don’t you see if Hayhay wants to come too?” his eyes flew up to yours and you grinned “Just as your partner and friend and as someone who loves our daughter of course” you clarified with a wink.

The smile he gave you made your heart flip. God you loved the fact that Addy had gotten his smile. You had always hoped she would. “I’ll ask her” you grinned “Good. I’ll find the costumes” his eyes widened “Dear lord I forgot about agreeing to that” you laughed and laid a hand on his knee with one bracing Addy’s hip as she danced with the music in her head apparently because the restaurant played none “Too late. Do you love me?” he nodded “You know I do” 

“Then you have to trust me” you laughed and he shook his head “Sweetheart I fear every time you have ever told me to trust you”

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@alexisquinnlee-bc

[buckbuckbarnesstuff]

Ugh I am a swooning mess! Love how Bucky just boldy barges into her home all the time. I don’t know but somehow it’s so hot lol

Lemme show you how much I love this:

“Yeah, I know. Nat told me. Good thing your pretty little face has all healed up. That’s your only fuckin’ worth to me right now after all the trouble you’ve caused.” His words stung; maybe you would’ve believed them true. But you got the sense he was being harsh for the sake of venting frustrations. He wouldn’t even catch your eye as the insults rolled off his tongue. 

Uh, how dare ya, Barnes. I was actually hurt for her sake. But the fact that he can’t even look her in the eyes has me reeling. She seems to be growing on him and I love it! 💖💕

Your eyes flew open as his hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward him with an infuriating gentleness. His thumb brushed over your jaw, skimming the faint bruise that lingered there, and his eyes narrowed as they traced the fading split in your lip. A shiver raced down your spine, and you jerked your head away, pulling free of his grasp.

BUCKY BEING GENTLE?? Please, this is so monumental to me and I'm loving it so much! GOD I NEED HIM SO BAD 🥹💕😩

“Don’t be stubborn,” he snapped, moving closer. His voice dropped, carrying a dangerous edge. “I need to see what they did to you.”

He's so persistent and intense, and it makes him so attraktive, omg.

“Quit fightin’ me,” he said sharply, his eyes flashing with something raw and unyielding. “I need to know.”

Hell yeah, that’s what I'm talking about!!

“Let’s be clear,” Bucky said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like the edge of his blade. “You think you can cross me, threaten a woman under my protection, and walk away with a few pretty words? Is that what ya think, Crey?”

Omg, yessss!! My man is going for revenge 👀

Bucky gripped his balding head with a firm grip, directing Varlan’s watery, terrified eyes to look across the Sootline at you. You had a sudden epiphany, an understanding that Bucky had never been nervous. No. That strange energy, that twitchiness… it had been pure, unfiltered rage.

I'm screaming and kicking my feet here. AAHH!! I love this so much. Internally gasped when I read this. Made me feel a little giddy honestly, he's just so intense and I love the way you write him!! 💕

As if your brief speech had broken a spell cast across the gangster, Bucky immediately straightened, his expression calm as he sheathed the knife. He reached out and patted Varlan’s head mockingly.

Oh dear god, and now he listens to her and reacts to her calling his name. I'm done! 🥹🥺💜

I'm so glad you're back to delight us with your amazing writing. You wrote a masterpiece of a fic. Thank you so much! Hope the new year is treating you well so far!

smog & spirits: the rat king (mini-series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, physical violence, angst, wound description, threats, some fluff, protective bucky, bucky barnes had issues, cults and religion mentioned, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: hi!! just wanted to say thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter and sticking with me!! i know i hadn't posted in forever with being busy with uni and all so it really made me happy that people still remembered this fic. this chapter (once again) was supposed to cover a lot more but i got carried away lol, so instead i'm posting this half and then the next half soon once i have it properly written up. anyway!! please enjoy!! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love

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Gertrude Crowley was a nervous woman.

It was the first thing you noticed about her; her movements were hesitant, as though she feared drawing too much attention. In the dim light, you noticed her face—worn, yes, but not aged beyond her years. Lines of worry etched her brow and framed her mouth. Her greying hair, streaked with darker remnants of its original chestnut hue, was hastily pinned beneath a weathered black scarf, frazzled tufts poking through the holes strewn throughout the fabric.

“Tea, Ms. Crowley?” You asked the woman. Despite your soft tone, the woman jumped in her seat, hand raising to her bosom as she took in a sharp breath.

“I suppose, Dear.” She squeaked in reply

You gave the older woman a reassuring smile, hoping to calm her fears. Her pale blue eyes darted away quickly, revealing a haunted expression. They glanced at you briefly, then withdrew as if frightened by what they might find. She fidgeted with her hands, the frayed edges of her gloves exposing trembling fingers.

“Tea is good for the soul, don’t you think?” You hummed to her softly, your upper half bent over your kitchen table, and you poured the steaming liquid into two cups. You hoped the woman wouldn’t comment on how the ceramic was chipped; the painted flowers faded from years of use. “Always so cold in The Warrens, it warms you up from the inside.”

Ms Crowley nodded stiffly, teacup rattling against its matching plate as she held it in trembling hands. You took a brief moment to observe her, eyes searching her appearance. Her clothing was plain but serviceable—a dark woollen cloak that hung unevenly over her frame, its hem damp and muddied from the streets. Beneath it, a simple grey dress fitted her modestly, cinched at the waist with a cracked but sturdy belt. A brass locket hung around her neck, glinting faintly when she shifted. Though practical and well-worn, her boots carried scuffs deep enough that you questioned if the dark fabric was her socks beneath.

She took a hesitant sip from her cup and looked up at you with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Thank you, dear.”

You settled into your seat, dragging your cup across the table's woodgrain. “How can I be of assistance?”

Ms Crowley hesitated, her lips thinning into a line as she contemplated a response. You wisely decided to allow her some space, and the steaming liquid cupped in your palm suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world. 

The older woman stumbled over her words, once, twice, thrice before finally settling on a simple, “I..I have never met a witch before.”

You smiled down into your cup, elbows resting on the table as you slowly looked up at her through a strand of loose hair that had fallen across your forehead. “I think you will find witches are alike most people you would meet—just like any stranger you would pass on the street.”

She peered across the table—as if testing your own words against you. Her tired, pale blue eyes squinting as she examined you from head to toe. “I suppose… I suppose you’re right. And I suppose I should trust you. I ‘ave been told most witches are trustworthy.”

“We are.” You state simply, only pausing to take a sip from your cup. The warm liquid fills your belly, a soft hum escaping your throat as you tilt you head in thought. “We’re salesmen, in a way, sellin’ our wares. There will always be scam artists, a few among the many, but most of us are just makin’ ends meet.”

The older woman contemplates your words. She takes a sip, a long one, then nods in affirmation. “You’re right. I should have some faith.”

“Now, Ms. Crowley, how can I help you?” You query once again.

“Well… I don’t know how this all works…”

“Just tell me what troubles you. From the start, if possible.”

Before she could speak, the door creaked open behind you, breaking the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. The sound was faint, yet it resonated through the stillness like the tolling of a distant church bell. Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around the chipped teacup as a wave of unease swept through you. The air seemed heavier, colder—an unspoken warning curling down your spine.

“Spirit-raiser.”

That voice. Gravelly, familiar. Unwelcome. You sucked in a sharp breath, though it felt as though your ribcage had suddenly shrunk two sizes too small for your organs. The bruises still present across your abdomen ached as every muscle in your body tensed, a tangled knot of shock electrifying your nerves. But beyond that, beyond the anger and disbelief, there was a feeling far more treacherous: relief.

He returned.

Your head whipped around, posture immediately straightening as though your spine was a pole made of steel. There he was—Bucky Barnes, leaning in the doorway like he owned the place, his sharp, stormy eyes swept over you, then flicked briefly to Ms. Crowley, whose face drained of colour. The woman looked ready to bolt, her hands clutching the table's edge as if it might anchor her in place. You couldn’t blame her. A woman already so anxious over the idea of magic she had positively turned green the moment she entered your flat. Now she was face to face with the dreaded Bucky Barnes, the fucking menace of the Sootstone? Many in The Warrens likely hadn’t seen the man in person, maybe at a distance, or knew him through whispered tales. You certainly hadn’t encountered the man until he came crashing into your life, smog and all. 

“Bucky,” you said, his name slipping out before you could catch it. A string of curses nearly left your tongue along with it. How bittersweet could it be that despite all the hurt you felt, you still called him by a name so familiar? Too familiar. The taste of it burned on your tongue. Your heart slammed into a furious rhythm as what could only be described as a smirk graced his lips. How could he act like he hadn’t vanished from your life without so much as a goodbye? 

How could he turn up here and act like all was well and normal?

It had hurt when he had left; yes, that was to be expected. But these past few days, he had avoided you. At least, it felt like avoidance. You hadn’t heard a word from the Smog Boys since your beating at the hand of the Iron Rats, not even a whisper on the sharp winds that rolled in from the dock. Natasha would have told him. In what world would she not have told Bucky that his pet witch had missed the summons because she was trembling, bloodied and bruised on her own floor? 

You had convinced yourself that maybe it was for the better, an escape from Becca’s wrath and escape from the Smog Boys…

“I’m busy.” The words escaped you before you could think.

He raised his brows in disbelief. Your toes curled in their boots, cringing at your own blunt tone. But then again, had he just expected everything to return to normal?

“I need’a favour.” He stepped further into the room, his boots thudding against the floorboards as he surveyed the space with casual indifference. His gait was smooth, gaze unbothered. A morbid part of you wished you could inspect his back and see the damage you caused. It didn’t seem to bother him or impede his movements.

Ms. Crowley made a small, frightened noise, her trembling hands going to her locket as though it might ward off his presence. “I—perhaps I should come back later…”

“What’re you doin’ here?” you demanded, the words sharper than you intended, cutting over Ms. Crowley’s muttering. 

“As I said, I need’a favour.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms as you fought to keep your composure. 

“A favour?” you repeated, the words dripping with scepticism. “After everythin’, you show up here and ask for a favour?”

Ms. Crowley flinched at the tone of your voice, but you couldn’t stop now. Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest crack in his facade of nonchalance.

“Watch it,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t want to push me.”

“And you don’t want to push me neither, Barnes,” You shot back, planting your hands on the table. “You don’t get to leave without so much as a ‘thank you’ and then show up here, actin’ like I owe you somethin’?”

“You say that, spirit-raiser, but…” He sucked on his teeth, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he looked down at you, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets as he sighed through his nose. “I just spent the last four days cleanin’ up your mess.”

Your brows drew inward, confusion slipping through. The entire time you had spent in misery, licking your wounds and nursing your broken heart, he had been out there defending you? 

A devilish expression crossed his face. “You really thought you could, what? Walk on over to Grimrow unnoticed while under my protection? Do you realise how long it has taken me to talk the Rat King down from marching over the Sootline and wagin’ war ‘cause of you?”

“They crossed the Sootline. They pursued me.” You rebutted, though even your voice wavered, unsure.

“Yeah.” His head tilted, eyes squinting. “You better be praisin’ whatever fuckin’ witch god you follow, 'cause that little fuck up on their end is the only reason why you’re still here playin’ good little spirit-raiser.”

You swallowed. Hard. 

“They hurt me.” You confessed, voice steadying.

“Yeah, I know. Nat told me. Good thing your pretty little face has all healed up. That’s your only fuckin’ worth to me right now after all the trouble you’ve caused.” His words stung; maybe you would’ve believed them true. But you got the sense he was being harsh for the sake of venting frustrations. He wouldn’t even catch your eye as the insults rolled off his tongue. 

For a moment, silence filled the room, thick with tension. You could feel Ms. Crowley’s gaze on you. Bucky’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening as his eyes finally lifted and bore into yours. His expression was unreadable, a carefully laid mask to cover whatever real emotion raged behind his stormy blue eyes.

Then, to your surprise, Ms. Crowley’s feeble voice cut through the silence. 

“I-I-I should go now—”

You whirled around.

“No,” you snapped, cutting her off before she could rise. Ms. Crowley froze, wide-eyed and trembling, her teacup rattling slightly in her unsteady hands. For a brief moment, you thought Bucky might let her stay, that he’d simply loom in the corner, his presence a warning but nothing more.

But then Bucky huffed a sharp breath, irritation flashing across his face as he shrugged out of his jacket. 

“Get the fuck out,” he said bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument, his eyes sliding to meet the older woman's as you made a noise close to a whimper. “And keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about all this.”

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, her gaze darting between the two of you. With a frightened nod, she scrambled to her feet, clutching her bag and locket close to her chest.

“Apologies. I ain’t sayin’ a thing. Not a word. I swear.” she stammered, her voice a whisper as she made a beeline for the door.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, you turned to Bucky, a glare sharp enough to cut steel fixed on your face.

“You didn’t have to scare her off like that!” you snapped, grabbing the teacups and stalking toward the sink.

“A waste of fuckin’ time is what she was,” Bucky replied casually, his voice dripping with indifference.

“She was a client,” you shot back, setting the cups into the sink with more force than necessary. “A payin’ client. I need clients, Barnes.”

Bucky leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching you. “You’re actin’ like I don’t pay you triple what they’re offerin’.”

You dipped your hands further into the soapy water, pressing your palms flat against the metal bottom as you sighed, momentarily closing your eyes in exasperation. “You don’t get to decide who’s worth my time. This is my place. My work. You can’t just—”

“I thought Nat was exaggeratin’,” Bucky cut over you, his voice low but carrying an edge that made your stomach churn.

You stiffened, your grip on the cup tightening. “Exaggeratin’ about what?”

“About this.”

Your eyes flew open as his hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward him with an infuriating gentleness. His thumb brushed over your jaw, skimming the faint bruise that lingered there, and his eyes narrowed as they traced the fading split in your lip. A shiver raced down your spine, and you jerked your head away, pulling free of his grasp.

“It’s nothin’,” you muttered, returning to the sink.

“Don’t look like nothin’,” he countered, his tone sharp. “Let me see the rest.”

You froze, your hands hovering over the sink. “No.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he snapped, moving closer. His voice dropped, carrying a dangerous edge. “I need to see what they did to you.”

You shook your head, your pulse roaring in your ears. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”

Bucky let out a low growl of frustration, and before you could react, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. His other hand went to your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“Bucky, stop,” you protested, grabbing at his wrists. The soapy water made your hands slick, his skin slipping from your grasp. “This isn’t—”

“Quit fightin’ me,” he said sharply, his eyes flashing with something raw and unyielding. “I need to know.”

His words silenced you, leaving you to stare up at him in stunned disbelief. The fight drained out of you, replaced by a reluctant acceptance as you lifted your hands, a trail of water rolling down to your elbows. Your head dipped, staring down at his shoes as droplets dripped onto his boots. With a defeated sigh, you rested your palms on his chest, pressing the wet skin into his buttoned shirt until you could feel the warmth of his body. With a grunt, he tugged your blouse from where it was tucked into your shirt, ripping the fabric upward until it exposed your belly.

The air seemed to leave the room as his gaze fell on the mottled bruises that painted your abdomen, the angry purples and blues. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as his hand hovered over the worst of the damage, his fingers brushing against your side with an uncharacteristic hesitance.

You heard him swallow audibly, adam’s apple bobbing. A shiver ran down your spine as his thumb carefully ran up to your sternum, then across the band of your brassiere. 

“How many ribs did you break?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the hair across your body rose on end. Tingles blossomed across your skull as his hand swept down to the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down to inspect the damage still hidden. 

“Three.”

His grunt of acknowledgement was quiet, but the tension dominating his frame was unmistakable. He stepped back abruptly, running a hand through his hair, tongue running over his bottom lip.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” The question gave you near vertigo. 

“I did.” You lie through your teeth

The gangster shook his head, hands resting on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“Bullshit. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve felt it, doll.” Your gut clenched as he half motioned towards his back. “If you wanted to fight back, they would’ve been dead long before they touched you.”

You pause. He was right. He was entirely right. You hadn’t fought back because you were what? Dejected and defeated? Too swept up in your own pity? Living in your mother's shadow? Or was it just the shadow you had created for yourself?

“You’re punishin’ yourself, aren’t ya? Hm?”

“I’m not lyin’ Barnes—” You begin to speak, voice raising as hysteria begins to bubble within you. Why was he asking you these things? Why was he pretending to care?

“Why?” He cuts over you, 

You turned away, refusing to respond. “I think you should leave now.”

He was silent for a beat. Then you heard the shuffle of clothing as he picked up his coat and swept it over his muscled shoulders. “I still need that favour.”

You sigh, an exaggerated noise as you spin to face him with a scowl. “What now? Can’t it wait?”

“You’re expected. At a meetin’.” 

“Meetin’?” You echoed.

“About what happened. With the Iron Rats.” 

“I thought you said you dealt with it—” You bite back, irritation flaring. 

“Would you just shut your fuckin’ mouth for a second and listen?” Bucky cut over you, voice raised. You clamp your mouth shut in surprise.

“It’s the Rat King.” Bucky meets your gaze. “He wants to meet you.”

—

You would have never described Bucky Barnes as nervous, but the walk to the Sootline almost had you questioning that assumption. Bucky kept his pace steady, though you noticed the subtle clench of his jaw and the occasional twitch of his hand at his side. It wasn’t the demeanour of a nervous man—no, Bucky Barnes didn’t do nervous—but something unexplainable was simmering beneath the surface.

The streets of the Warrens were quieter than usual, the normal hum of life dampened. The sun had grown low in the sky, the usual grey fog warming to a diffused orange and pink glow. The cobblestones were slick beneath your boots, liquids you wouldn’t dare identify, leaving a sheen across the ground that reflected the faint glow of lanterns. You adjusted your coat, tucking it closer against the chill, and cast a sidelong glance at Bucky. 

"Barnes, you alright?" you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. You weren’t one to pry, but the energy engulfing the gangster was strange.

“We’re late,” he muttered, his voice clipped.

You frowned, the sharpness of his tone needling at you. “Well, if you’d told me sooner than five minutes ago that I was needed—”

“And you would have come?.” His words were abrupt, cutting through your protest like a blade. “You do ‘ave a habit of ignorin’ my summons.”

Your jaw clamped shut, a heavy silence falling over the both of you. Further down the twisting, wonky street, you could see streetgoers dashing into nearby stores and homes. Above in the stacked homes that towered above the streets, faces cautiously peeked out, watching as Bucky and you marched past. You observed a group of three children ushered away by their mother, her tightly shutting the rickety window with a grim expression.

“It would be best if you kept your mouth shut during this. Only speak when spoken to. Just agree unless I say otherwise.” Bucky finally spoke, voice gruff.

“Why?” You pry, voice unsure.

“‘Cause I can’t help you if you say somethin’ stupid ‘n end up gettin’ yourself in more trouble.”

Your steps faltered, confusion flashing across your face. “Why do you suddenly care?”

His lip twitched, but he continued with his persistent gait. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You’re scarin’ me—”

“I have a reputation to uphold, spirit-raiser. Can’t have these rats thinkin’ I’ve gone weak ’cause of some bird.”

The words landed heavily, and you bit back the sting of their dismissal. “What does your reputation got to do with me?”

His stride didn’t falter, but his gaze flicked toward you, brittle and intense. “If I can’t protect you, then what’s to say I can protect the whole of The Warrens, huh? What’s to stop them from marchin’ over the Sootline?”

“So, what’s this, then? You strikin’ a deal, handin’ me over to them, actin’ like you don’t care so they don’t think you’re weak ‘cause of some bird?”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d have been dead a long time ago.” He huffed out in an empty laugh. He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. The weight of his stare rooted you in place. “No, doll, those rats… they fucked up.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued, his voice low and deliberate, every word laced with venom. “I’m gonna get them to bend the fuckin’ knee. Show them whose the real fuckin’ King around here.”

—

The Sootline River separated the two territories like a jagged scar, its sluggish current carrying the city’s filth toward the sea. On either bank, the Smog Boys and Iron Rats assembled in tense lines, a mix of swagger and unease flickering across their faces. The lanterns they carried swayed, casting fragmented shadows on the water as the sun finally slipped beyond the horizon, coating the land in creeping darkness, its coffin-like suffocation only exaggerated by the smoke and ash from the Smokestacks.

Bucky stood at the river’s edge, his posture deceptively relaxed, his hands buried in his coat pockets. His gaze locked onto the figure across the river: Varlan Crey—The Rat King. Varlan was everything Bucky wasn’t—brash, loud, and lumbering, his bulk swathed in a tattered black coat with yellow stitching. His grin was wide, but his teeth were uneven, lending him the air of a predator more accustomed to snapping than scheming. His gang flanked him, a pack of diseased rats, restless and waiting for a signal.

“Barnes,” Varlan called, his voice carrying easily across the water, gravelly and full of mock cheer. “Shame we ain’t meetin’ unda different circumstances.”

“Varlan,” Bucky replied, his tone steady, almost clipped. He didn’t move a muscle, his stance radiating a nearly unbearable calm.

Varlan cocked his head, his smirk widening. “I’m guessin’ this is the bird in question?” He nodded towards you.

You froze under his scrutiny, your skin prickling under the weight of his gaze. The air seemed colder now, and your chest tightened as though the river’s chill had seeped into your bones. 

Bucky gave a single, deliberate nod. “Yes.”

Varlan snorted softly. “A bird from The Warrens, crossing inta my territories ‘n causing a ruckus amongst my boys… you undastand how this looks bad, Barnes?”

Bucky didn’t flinch. His smooth and unhurried tone carried across the water like a blade. “I can. But it weren’t her that was causing the ruckus now, was it? I’m guessin’ these lies you’re tellin’ yourself are why you so recklessly declared war before examinin’ the facts.”

Varlan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. “Facts,” he repeated, shaking his head as though the word itself amused him. “You’re soundin’ more and more like them fancy wankers up in The Flower Districts, Barnes. Especially in those fine tailored suits a yours.”

A chorus of low laughter rumbled from the Iron Rats side of the bridge, the lines of men with their yellow handkerchiefs grinning amongst themselves. 

“Oh, I can recommend you a tailor, Crey,” Bucky said lightly, his voice laced with faint amusement. “I know one who gives discounts for friends.” 

It was now time for the Smog Boys to stir behind Bucky, muffled chuckles rippling through the crowd. A flicker of a smile ghosted across Bucky’s lips, though his gaze remained fixed on Varlan. With the subtle jab landed, Varlan bristled. His shoulders stiffened, and his smirk turned brittle. He barked a short laugh, more bark than humour.

“Well,” he said, his voice sharper now. “Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?”

“Go ahead,” Bucky replied.

You glanced at him, searching for some clue about his thinking, but his expression gave away nothing. Beside you, the Smog Boys settled, hands tucked into their pockets and chests puffed out as they eyed the Iron Rats across the river. Their stillness wasn’t as practised as Bucky's. He held the type of quiet that preceded violence, the kind that made your stomach churn. As you scanned their faces, you noted how young some men were, barely out of boyhood. It might have been a cause for concern, but you knew many sought out Bucky’s leadership out of desperation. Their energy was much better placed under the guidance of someone like Bucky instead of them turning to the streets where their violence and frustration would run rampant. Regardless of their age or status, you had noticed one common theme among the Smog Boys—none were left unfed, and their clothes were always without holes. The same could not be said for other less fortunate souls who braved The Warrens alone. 

“I admit,” Varlan began, dragging out the word with a performative sigh. “That I may ‘ave been… hasty. But ya can’t blame me, not with the information I was told.”

“I guess so,” Bucky replied simply. 

Bucky’s lack of reaction agitated the larger man, a cross expression forming on his greasy face. Then his smirk returned, sly and serpentine. “Well, I am impressed by ya…little investigation. Touched a nerve, did it?”

A ripple of unease passed through you as Varlan Crey lifted his brows, head tilted to match his devious, wide-eyed expression. A subtle dig at Bucky’s involvement—or worse, his attachment to you? You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of both their gazes shift momentarily to you. 

By some miracle, Bucky didn’t react to the provocation. Instead, his voice came low and steady. “I take it you spoke with the witch?”

You felt your face react before you could steel yourself, face scrunching in confusion. Witch? What witch was Bucky referring to? He certainly wasn’t referring to you—you had never met the Rat King before, let alone spoke with him about your misdeeds of crossing into his territories. In retrospect, with the gravity of the situation weighing upon you, it was a foolish assumption to make thinking you could walk into Grimrow unimpeded or unidentified. In recent months, it seemed everyone and anyone knew who you were before you knew them. It was as if you walked your life with a ginormous red hot brand across your forehead that simply said: Bucky Barnes!

“Spoke? Yes,” Varlan said, his voice emerging in a drawl. “Come ‘ere, girl.” 

He turned slightly, and a figure emerged from the Iron Rats’ crowd.

Wanda.

Wanda.

Your chest tightened, bruising squeezing painfully. She walked forward with her usual unnerving grace, her head high, her eyes sweeping the scene before her. Her auburn locks bounced across her white dress, sheepskin draped over her shoulders to protect her from the chill. Coven garb. She was calm. Too calm. The shock of seeing her in the Church of Light clothing almost made you physically recoil. You had never seen the attire in the flesh, but you remembered how your mother had described it—white to symbolise the light and the chosen babe, the Light-bringer. Diviner. 

The voices of the past echoed those names in your mind.

Light-bringer…

Your mother had always been short in her tales, too afflicted by the trauma and illness that had ruled most of her life away from the Coven. She had only spoken of the cruelty and sickness in those temple walls. The white was purity, the end of times, the rapture… but also a symbol of their devotion. The crimson blood of their self-inflicted or sometimes forced punishments showed up best on a fresh canvas. 

How had Wanda inserted herself in your life so quickly? How long had Leofric and his coven of fucking madness been tailing you? And how had Bucky known to bring her? You glanced at him, desperate for a flicker of understanding, but his face remained devoid of emotion.

“It seems my friend, Barnes ‘ere, is obsessed with facts.” The Rat King spoke, pulling you from your confused daze. He wheezed out a laugh, a phlegm-filled cough quickly following as he spat the glob into the filthy churning Sootline.

“Go on then, girl. State the facts.” Varlan instructed with a bark.

Wanda folded her hands in front of her, her voice level and composed. “I invited her to Grimrow.”

A surprised murmur swept over the crowd.

“The Church of Light has been expanding its temple across the Sootline. I was honoured to become the Head Priestess for our new build—”

“Yeah, yeah, cut to the facts, girl.” Varlan cut over Wanda. 

The auburn woman's eyes sparked with something that could only be described as irritation, but it was only a flicker as she expertly composed herself. “I invited her over to celebrate with me, as we have been friends since childhood.”

The word friends felt like a slap. Or even better, a well-placed stab to the abdomen. Your throat tightened as you stared at her, horrified by her ease in lying. How could she say it so smoothly? So convincingly? You tried to form words, but they caught in your throat, leaving you in silence.

“You agree,” Varlan pressed, his voice breaking through your haze, “that you were invited?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came, head spinning. Finally, you forced yourself to speak. “Yes.”

Varlan’s sly eyes narrowed, assessing you. “You say you are both friends but… the bartender and my men witnessed a fight between ya both,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “Why?”

Wanda quickly stepped in, her voice carrying a faint trace of sorrow. “I had expressed my concern. I wished she would stop workin’ for the Smog Boys out of fear for her safety.”

Varlan’s amusement flickered across his face, but you caught the subtle way his eyes darted toward Bucky. It was a jab meant to provoke. Bucky didn’t bite. He remained as unmoving as stone.

“And what do you say?” Varlan asked, turning his attention back to you.

Wanda’s eyes burned into your own, her chin lifting. You could’ve sworn you saw the ghost of a smirk across her lips as she watched you squirm. You couldn’t claim she was lying, or this elaborate fabrication would fall apart. You couldn’t gauge her motive. Was it to make you feel you owed her and the Church of Light? Was it to protect you? Plant seeds of doubt within Bucky, and make it seem like you had hidden parts of your life from him?

“She’s tellin’ the truth,” you surrender, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

“And do you have evidence? Of this letter sent to you to invite you?”

Your stomach dropped further, quickly scrambling to come up with a believable lie. “No… No, I burn all my old mail. I use it as kindlin’.”

“Convenient,” Varlan spat out with a slow shake of his head. “Very convenient.”

“I have evidence,” Wanda interjected smoothly, producing a rolled parchment from somewhere on her person. “It is the reply she sent me, confirmin’ the date.”

Bucky’s shoulders subtly relaxed beside you. Had he known about the lie, or was he being strung along by her games, too? Had the two spoken as well? What lies had she told him? Worst of all was the flare of jealousy in your gut—the thought of him talking with that woman, the idea of him trusting her over you—the weight of betrayal was suffocating. Wanda had gone to unimaginable lengths, forging a note in your handwriting to solidify this ruse.

“You wrote this reply?” Varlan asked, holding the parchment aloft.

“Yes.” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

Varlan examined the note for a long moment before nodding. “Well, seems you’re right, Barnes. My men were in the wrong. “

“So, we have an understanding now, Crey?” Bucky asked, his voice steady.

“Believe we do, Barnes,” Varlan replied. “Your woman can walk free.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, his hand flexing at his side. For a moment, he didn’t respond; his cold blue eyes locked on Varlan like a wolf sizing up its prey.

“That’s it?” Bucky asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. “She walks free, and we’re supposed to call it even?”

Varlan spread his hands in a gesture of mock generosity. “What more do you want, Barnes? She crossed into my territory. I’ve agreed to let her go, no harm done. This should be the end of it.”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He glanced down at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking back at Varlan. “No harm done? Is that what ya think?”

“She’s standin’ here, ain’t she?” Varlan said, his tone oily, his confidence growing in the face of no immediate retaliation. “No blood spilt, no lastin’ damage. Consider this a…generous gesture from me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. Without another word, he stalked toward the bridge.

The movement drew startled murmurs from both sides.

“What’s he doin’?” one of the Iron Rats hissed, his hand twitching toward his weapon.

“Hold!” Varlan snapped. “Let him come if he wants.” There was a cool confidence to his tone, a confidence that was likely misplaced. 

“Barnes,” Varlan said, his voice rising as Bucky drew closer with deliberate, measured steps. “There ain’t no need for this. I’ve said the matter is settled.”

Bucky said nothing as he reached the other side. His hand slid into his coat, and when it emerged, he held a knife. The blade gleamed in the lantern light, its sharp edge catching the flickering flames.

The Iron Rats stiffened as if momentarily stunned and unable to make a move.

“Let’s be clear,” Bucky said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like the edge of his blade. “You think you can cross me, threaten a woman under my protection, and walk away with a few pretty words? Is that what ya think, Crey?”

Varlan stepped back instinctively, his misplaced confidence crumbling as Bucky loomed over him. “Barnes, this is unnecessary—”

Bucky moved faster than anyone expected. His boot struck Varlan’s chest in a brutal kick, sending the Rat King sprawling onto his back. Gasps erupted from the Iron Rats, a few finally thawing out enough to jerk forward, but were quickly off-put their heroism by the crowd of Smog Boys inching across the bridge, blades drawn and faces like jackals.

At some point in the chaos, you had lost sight of Wanda, the witch disappearing into the shadows and fog like a ghost in the night.

Varlan scrambled backwards, his hands raised in a panicked gesture of surrender. “Wait! Barnes, wait!”

Bucky crouched over him, the knife hovering dangerously close to Varlan’s throat. “Ya think this is a game, Crey? Well, let’s fuckin’ play then, huh?” he spat. 

“I—I didn’t mean for any of this!” Varlan stammered, his voice high with panic. “I swear, Barnes. Please!”

“Beg,” Bucky said, his voice cold and unrelenting.

Varlan’s face twisted with humiliation, but the knife at his throat left no room for pride. Slowly, he rose to his knees, his hands still outstretched in surrender but his entire form trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I was wrong. Please.”

“Louder,” Bucky demanded.

“I’m sorry!” Varlan cried, his voice cracking. “You can ‘ave the men, do what ya want with ‘em. Is that what you want? Please… just—”

Bucky gripped his balding head with a firm grip, directing Varlan’s watery, terrified eyes to look across the Sootline at you. You had a sudden epiphany, an understanding that Bucky had never been nervous. No. That strange energy, that twitchiness… it had been pure, unfiltered rage.

“Now, say sorry to her.” Bucky instructed, his voice near seething.

“I am sorry! I’m sorry for me actions. And my mens.” The Rat King cried out. Your gaze lifted to meet Bucky’s as he stared back across the Sootline at you. His grip on the man’s head tightened. “Please!”

“Bucky.” You finally spoke up, your voice soft as the breeze as it carried across the river.

As if your brief speech had broken a spell cast across the gangster, Bucky immediately straightened, his expression calm as he sheathed the knife. He reached out and patted Varlan’s head mockingly.

“Good little rat,” he murmured. “You know, I’m hostin’ a party soon. Maybe I’ll invite you, and you can dance and entertain me like the fuckin’ jester you are.”

Varlan’s humiliation was evident, his men exchanging uneasy glances. Bucky grinned wide, showing all his teeth.

“As for the men,” He said, his tone sharp as he turned to face the crowd of Iron Rats head-on. “The ones who crossed the border. Hand them over.”

Varlan hesitated for a moment, his pride still clinging stubbornly. But the weight of Bucky’s gaze, the threat of what he might do, was too much to bear. He nodded quickly, motioning to his men.

As if not wanting to anger the gangster further, the Iron Rats were quick to locate the three culprits and push them ahead, their expressions ashen with terror. Smog Boys emerged from the mist like spectres, grasping the men and dragging them across the bridge before they could escape and bolt back into the depths of Grimrow.

“Take them,” Varlan said hoarsely, his body sunken in defeat. “They’re yours.”

Bucky didn’t even look at them. He turned and crossed the bridge, hand grasping your forearm as he tugged you along. You frantically looked back, watching through the filthy haze as Varlan Crey stumbled back to his feet, cheeks burning, forehead slick with sweat. His men around him looked dejected, their beady eyes following you as you disappeared into the smog.

“Come,” Bucky uttered to you. “We have business to attend to.”

[usoppshoneydew]

"9 to 5" Tasm!Peter Parker x reader🕸️🕸️🕸️

S: After a bad day at work, you get a lucky ride home from your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Pairing: Andrew Garfield! Spider-man x F! Black reader

Tw: Heights??/ Fluff

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: Reader is described as shorter than Peter; reader has a sister; parted hair is mentioned; This is proofread but there may still be mistakes🕸️🕸️🕸️

It's a normal, bustling night in New York as people walk through the streets of Queens. The sun set a while ago but through a window, a person could still hear civilians revving engines, honking horns, or cursing out someone who almost hit them in the crosswalk. A typical night in the city you live in. It's on a relatively basic night like this, that you meet spiderman for the first time.

“Yeah, I'll be right there. Yeah, I missed my bus so I'm taking the street.” You softly speak into your phone, explaining to your sister the reason you're not home from work yet. You glance around while she lists off all the ways she wants you to watch yourself. You knew this way home like the back of your hand, and it's pretty much the safest one, surrounded by families and the elderly, but that didn't mean you didn't keep your head on a swivel like usual.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I've got my mace. Ok, see you in a minute. Ok. Love you too. Bye.” You end the conversation and hang up, before putting your phone in your pocket. You sigh deeply and continue your walk, no earbuds in for safety reasons, just the sounds of traffic and the puddles underneath your feet keeping you company on your way back. With nothing else to keep you busy, you do the exact thing you didn't want to do, and run over the course of your day in your head.

You'd had a pretty awful shift at work. It must've been “be a jerk to customer service employees” day and you hadn't gotten the memo or something, because the amount of pissy customers there were today caught you off guard. So of course you were more than ready to go home when it was time to clock off, right before it's time to clean up and close the store, as planned. You scheduled your hours this way on purpose because you hate cleaning with other people, and because your BUS doesn't run that late. This is what you told your manager, when she gave you some bullshit reason for having to leave early and why you had to stay and close up instead of her. You should have set her straight right then, manager or not, but as per usual, you just stewed angrily and cussed her out in your head for the next two hours while wiping counters. You're caught up in your thoughts when someone suddenly shoves past you with their shoulder,forcing you to stumble out of their way.

“Watch where you're going!” the guy practically spits at you and walks off without even giving you a second glance. He doesn't even give you a chance to respond, but it's not like you would have anyway. Instead you just suck your teeth loudly and toss an irritated glare at him over your shoulder. After all, you're not all bark and no bite. You've got enough in you to give someone a nasty look, maybe even venomous depending on what they did, but for some reason any comebacks you can think of only come to you long after the person is gone.You shake your head and are about to continue on your way when you hear a loud “thwip”, and a surprised shriek. Just when you're about to glance back to see what happened, there's the sound of feet roughly landing on the pavement in front of you.

“Yo! It's not nice to push people, man!” You turn back towards the voice, and right in front of you is spiderman, looking over your head while continuing to berate the guy behind you. You stand there stunned for a moment while the two men argue, your mouth slightly parted.

“What the hell man!? Let me out of this!” The stranger shouts while struggling, and you turn around to see that he's now uncomfortably strapped to the wall beside the street, with a large spider web. His arms are up in an awkward position and the tips of his feet are just barely grazing the ground. It looked embarrassing, and there was no way there wouldn't be a group of teenagers taking pictures of him soon, but hey, the guy deserved it.

“Actually, I think I'll let you stay there for a while! Maybe give you a chance to learn some manners!” Spiderman calls back casually before finally directing his reflective eyes down at you. You just glance back up at him for a short moment in disbelief. In the few years since you first saw Spiderman on TV, you've never once seen the hero in person. Maybe you're always looking down at your phone whenever he swings by or something, because you've never seen any of his amazing feats. There could be news about him stopping crime on the exact street you take to school, at the exact time you get out of your last class, and you'll still only find out about it after you step inside your front door. Now he was standing in front of you, tonight of all nights, and he's taller than he looks in the videos.

“Are you okay?” He huffs breathlessly after his little back and forth with the guy from earlier, the wide eyes of his mask staring down at you expectantly. You blink a few times before stuttering a bit and dusting your jacket off.

“Oh uh- yeah I'm fine. He didn't knock me over or anything.” You mumble absentmindedly while looking down at and straightening your already straight clothes. You don't know why you're acting so skittish. Spiderman isn't a celebrity or anything but he is extremely well known at this point. Maybe that's why it feels kind of surreal that he's speaking to you so casually. That, and you're a bit of a fan of Spiderman despite never seeing him in person, always finding yourself keeping up with his latest acts of heroism.

“Well no- I meant-.” Spiderman says before pausing and tapping at his eyes. You just pause for a moment before finally noticing your stiff cheeks and the tears drying on them.

“What the hell? How did I not realize I'd been crying?” You frown, genuinely confused. It must've been when you were thinking about how you let your manager get away with treating you like a shag carpet. You don't have anything to clean your face with, except for a few small packs of wet wipes in your purse, and you don't want to imagine what that would do to your skin.

“Yeah! I uh- was swinging by and noticed you. You looked pretty lost in thought, so I wasn't gonna say anything but. Y'know, spiderman makes time for all civilians, even- crying ones.” He rambles on, and how awkward it comes out makes you smile a little. You never would've thought that spiderman could kind of, well,word vomit. He always looks so put together in his videos, aside from the compilation of times he's fallen or swung into something.

“No, I'm fine really! Thank you. And for dealing with that guy too! If you hadn't done anything I probably would've just complained about him with my sister later.” You joke after glancing back at the man again. Spider man just nods with his arms crossed.

“I get it, not the confrontational type. Me neither.” He sighs, and you tilt your eyebrows slightly, because his actions just now and a few of the videos you've watched definitely contradict that statement. After a moment you begin to fidget a little, not entirely sure of what else to say to Spider-Man, but not wanting to end your conversation with him either. Who knows when you'll get a chance like this again. The next time would probably have to be when there's some sort of danger, and you're not necessarily looking forward to that, especially not after that horrifying lizard incident when you were in highschool. That had been the first time you saw him, watching your TV in awe while clinging to your mom. He notices your discomfort and jumps to make conversation, not necessarily ready to leave you on your own either.

“So um- are you on your way home? I don't think I've seen you in this neighborhood before.” He asks you before coolly leaning on the wall beside him. He really hopes you actually wanted him to continue the conversation, and that he's not just awkwardly holding you hostage now. You brighten up when you look back up at him though, so you can bet he's inwardly patting himself on the back for making the right choice.

“Yeah,that's probably because I usually take the bus through here. I don't normally walk down this street.” You respond while looking around,noticing the sudden absence of families and the elderly. This is the safest route you know, but it's also significantly later than when you'd usually walk through here, around 11 at night now. Spiderman must've noticed the lack of people too because the thing he says next catches you off guard.

“Do you want a ride?” He asks you casually and you look back over at him.

“A ride?” You ask, confused. From what you've seen, no one's ever posted about a spider mobile or anything of that sort. How would he give you a ride home? Spiderman just nods easily before looking up at the buildings around you.

“Yeah! Y'know, you wrap your arms around me, I wrap my arm around you, and fwip fwip!” He makes a small swishing sound and mimics the way he shoots his webs. You look at him with a dumb face, before finally processing what he was offering.

“You're saying you're going to swing me home?!” You gasp, your voice echoing in the empty neighborhood. Spiderman nods casually, this being something he does pretty often. Well, not that often but he's done it with a girlfriend or two, or one. He doesn't swing people around that often.

“Are you sure that's okay? Don't you have to uh- patrol or something like that?” You ask wearily. Swinging while in the arms of New York’s own Spider-Man is something you daydream about an embarrassing amount, but that didn't mean you wanted to take up his time.

“Well I'd offer to walk you home. But swinging’s faster. And! That high in the air, I can patrol at the same time. It's a win win.” He quickly says while rubbing the back of his neck, trying to appear cool about it. You just falter, at a loss for words. What was happening? You've not only run into and spoken to spiderman, a person you've only ever seen on camera,but now he's asking you if you want him to swing you through the city? All in the same night? How had this day turned around so drastically? You're still lost in thought when spider man speaks up again.

“Besides, I can't let a civilian walk around an empty neighborhood by herself can I? Not at this time of night.” He adds softly and reaches his hand out. After a moment more of contemplating, you sigh. You'd had a horrible day and your favorite hero was offering to take you home. Your friends would only clown you if you missed this chance by acting timid again, overly considerate, and you'd beat yourself up over it too. Besides, you glance around at the dark neighborhood. What could be safer than a personal escort home from the webbed hero himself?

“ I guess you can't. Thank you.” You say and accept the hand he has stretched towards you. Spiderman takes your hand before gently leading it to wrap around his shoulders, and you're surprised by how warm his hands are even through his gloves. You wrap your other arm around him, and nervously start to wonder how this was going to work. The masked hero was taller than he looked in the videos, and you had to reach a little just to get a half decent grip around his shoulders. There's no way you're not flying into a late night hot dog stand like this. As if he read your mind, spiderman suddenly starts to shuffle a bit.

“One second, let's just get a better grip here.” He mutters quietly, and you make a startled sound when he suddenly squats a little lower than you, his chin grazing your chest, before wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you slightly higher. With the sudden movement and the new height difference, you reflexively wrap your arms tighter around him.

“Oh lord, this is really happening.” You practically cry in your head, your heart starting to beat faster in your chest when it sinks in that you're going to be hundreds of feet in the air in a short moment. After a quick little bounce, just to secure you a little higher, spider man finally looks at you.

“Alright. You ready?” He huffs and watches you nervously glance around at the ground, as if you're already flying through the air. You sigh before meeting the reflective eyes of his masks, pausing when you find reassurance in them somehow, and finally nod.

“Yeah, I'm ready.” You exhale and finally find the courage to look up at the buildings and night sky above you. Spiderman takes a breath too, the quick pounding of your heart against his collarbone making him slightly nervous, even if he's confident that he won't drop you.

“Alright. Here we go!” He huffs, and you hold your breath as he takes a running start, before shooting a web. He latches it to a building and with a leap and a yank of his arm, you both spring into the air. You had built the courage to look up but the moment you feel that drop in your stomach from the rise in altitude, you yelp and hide your face between spider man's neck and shoulder, squeezing your arms even tighter around him. You must be strangling the poor man at this point, but if he feels any discomfort, the masked hero doesn't say anything. For at least four more lifts and swings, you're crouched tightly against spider man's side, hoping that this Roller Coaster drop simulator would end quickly. There's nothing but the wind in your ears and the small noises you make whenever you both drop before catching another web, until he suddenly clears his throat.

“ I uh- probably should have asked this sooner but-! Where am I taking you exactly!?” He calls out above all the noise, grunting in between words whenever he has to yank your combined weight back into the air. That's right, you'd been too busy trying to keep your guts out of your throat to tell him where your apartment is. You're about to pull away from his shoulder the smallest bit to answer him, when your home training suddenly reminds you that you're about to tell a random man, even if he is a hero,your address. Still, if there's ever an emergency, it wouldn't hurt for spiderman to know what window to hop through.

“uuh- itS- ugh. That one apartment complex by the sandwich- shop on 5th Ave!” You utter miserably, trying to hold it together while also avoiding looking at the buildings sweeping by.

“Oh ok yeah! I know where you're talking about!” He calls back and you're ready to tuck back into your hiding spot against his neck when he speaks up again.

“You know! It's alright! I won't drop you! You can open your eyes!” He shouts and you squint your eyes open a little.

“I'm sorry?!” You yell back, trying to talk more towards his collarbone rather than screaming directly into his ear. You still keep your eyes open as lightly as possible, not sure if you can stomach watching the buildings swing by. Spider man holds you just a little tighter when he swings from a higher building than the ones you've taken so far, and you try to stifle another borderline inappropriate sound the best you can. What can you do when it feels like you're on the pirate ship ride at six flags,though? It's either restrained, yet slightly weird sounding yelps, or downright screeching in the man's ear, as if you really are on a roller coaster ride. Spiderman glances over at you before swinging again.

“Open your eyes! I promise the view is worth it! You'll love it!” he tries to convince you and you suck your teeth, thinking about it.

“Uh!” your voice wavering as you try to dredge up some courage. You're still contemplating when you feel spider man turn his head. You look up at him and find that his wide, reflective eyes are on you.

“I've got you. Trust me.” Spiderman reassures you again, and you pause. You search his eyes for a moment, and again even though they shouldn't, they almost have a comforting look to them. You both gaze at one another until you take a deep breath. After one more, you close your eyes tight and turn your head towards the front of you both.

“Ok!” you call out, with your eyes still closed. The wind is cold against your ears, and you can even feel it blowing through your hair you messily parted before work this afternoon. You can't see it but you can tell spiderman brightens up.

“Ok?! Yeah! Alright let's go!” he yells excitedly before latching onto another building and preparing to lift you both to an extremely tall one, one that'll give you the best view. He holds you close as you both drop for a moment, building momentum for the swing.

“You ready?!” He pants with excitement while giving your side an encouraging squeeze. After a deep breath, you nod and wrap your arms tighter around spider man's shoulders, squishing the side of your face against his jaw, something you wouldn't normally do to a stranger. This isn't a normal situation though.

“Ok! Here we go!” He cheers before whooping loudly and yanking you both into the air, the force making you groan. You squeeze your eyes shut, until you feel everything coming to halt. When you open them, you and spiderman are both suspended in the air above the buildings. A gasp leaves you and it feels like time stands still, with your jacket rising around you, as well as your bag. You're only able to take in the stretch of lights around you for a short moment before you feel your bodies start to drop. The view is quickly overtaken by buildings again, and you're still out of breath when spiderman sticks to the side of a nearby building. He makes a makeshift perch out of his knee for you to sit on, and despite that being something you'd usually be embarrassed about, you're too stunned to care right now.

“Are you alright? I'm sorry that was too much wasn't it?” Spiderman apologizes breathlessly as he straightens your jacket a little, your silence making him anxious. Maybe he had gone too high? You finally blink yourself out of your daze, bracing yourself against his shoulder.

“No- I-! That was incredible!” You huff, still not entirely over the sight you just saw. It was like looking out an airplane window, but without any, well, security or walls. Spider-Man just looks at your bright eyes and wild appearance, and bursts out laughing. You aren't aware of how wind blown you look so you just continue.

“No really! It was like-! And I couldn't-! You know?” You flounder illiterately as your extensive vocabulary flies out the window. You look at him to see if he was grasping what you're saying and Spiderman laughs again, finding it cute how quickly your opinion about this whole thing had changed. It was also nice that you seemed to be in a way better mood than before.

“Yeah! No, I get exactly what you're saying! The feeling is surreal. I felt it when I went swinging for the first time too.” He agrees with you, your excitement rubbing off on him. You finally feel your heart beat start to decelerate. It was for such a short time but in that brief moment in the air, you felt completely weightless, your day at work completely forgotten. You look over at him again and Spider-Man’s holographic eyes widen when they meet your gaze.

“I've thought this ever since that night in high school but, you really are so incredible.” you sigh and unconsciously search for eyes that you can't see. But spiderman can see yours perfectly, and the awe you're looking at him with, makes his heart speed up unexpectedly. You both gaze at each other for a moment longer before spiderman remembers to catch his breath and clears his throat.

“So um-. Are you ready to go again? I've uh- still got to deliver you home safely.” He jokes while laughing a little towards the end. You blink before situating your arms back around his shoulders. He wraps his arm back around your waist and you squeeze him a little more securely before bracing yourself.

“Yeah, I'm ready.” You huff and Spiderman springs off of the building and you both descend towards the ground before he shoots a web, swinging away with you in his arms. He whoops and you scream the entire way.

***

If someone listened hard enough, they'd hear laughing and talking from the top of a certain building.

“No but really that was such an underrated movie, and all because the animation was different.” You say around the last bite of the hotdog from the stand that's always parked on your street. Spiderman scoffs and shakes his head before impressively tossing his crumpled foil into a trash can on the street 90 feet below you. You'd whistle if you knew how to do it properly.

“Some people can't appreciate anything beyond aesthetics.” He sighs profoundly, and how dramatic it is makes you laugh, causing him to join in too. After gazing out at the city for a short while longer, you ball up your hot dog wrapper and stand up, making spiderman look up before standing too. You stuff the trash in your pocket to throw away later and sigh wistfully.

“Welp, I should probably head inside now. My sister has been blowing up my phone for the last 10 minutes.” You exhale while rocking on your heels and glancing over at the door that leads to the stairs of your building, not entirely ready to end this incredible night.You really should've gone inside the moment you both arrived, but when the masked hero offered to buy you something to eat, you couldn't say no. It was rare enough that you'd actually met him in person today after never being able to catch a glimpse of him before, so you know it's not likely you'll get this chance again. It only makes it worse that he turned out to be much nicer than you ever imagined through his videos. Spiderman just nods his head and swings his arms a bit.

“Yeah of course! And just tell her that spiderman held you up, if you need a way out of a lecture or something.” He responds, making you both laugh for the nth time tonight. You hum and nod your head.

“Will do. So uh- thank you for taking me home tonight, I appreciate it. Honestly, I've wanted to meet you since I first saw you in high school.” You chuckle quietly and sigh.

“I guess people aren't always right when they say never meet your heroes huh?” You say softly and glance at him one more time, making his reflective eyes widen again, before finally turning on your heel and making your way towards the door. Spiderman just stands still until you call out one more time.

“ Goodnight Spider-Man! Thanks again!” You call from the door and it snaps him out of his little daze.

“No problem! And watch yourself on the way to your door too! People are crazy!” He adds quickly and you shout back a distant ‘Yes sir!’, that makes him grin. Even after the door has closed Peter continues to smile to himself, replaying your conversations in his head as he walks off the building with a jig in his step. He never would've expected that he'd run into you tonight. Despite sharing a class with you and noticing you on your way home sometimes, Peter has never spoken to you, as himself or as Spider-Man. He's had a small crush on you for a little while now, nothing huge, just enough that he notices if you've got on a new outfit or if you missed class, but after the way things ended with Gwen before she moved, he doesn't plan on acting on it. That was never a good idea. He swings for a while longer before pausing for a second once he notices he's passing the street you both were on what felt like hours ago.

“She might need a swing home again though, who knows?” He thinks to himself as he walks over to the unruly civilian he webbed up earlier, still stuck to the wall. Maybe that manager you told him about will flake on you again, making you miss your bus and walk down this street. No, that wasn't likely. He's never seen you walk down this street before now so why would it happen again? It wasn't right to look forward to seeing you like that anyway. After scolding the guy one more time after letting him go, Peter swings back up to the building he was patrolling from. Sure, he was drawing in his sketchbook too but he was mostly watching and listening. He doodles with the noise of New York as his ambiance, and soon there's a tiny, no effort doodle of you in the corner of his page. He scribbles mindlessly on already sketched lines as he thinks of you.

“I can at least say hello in the hallway or something.” He ponders quietly as he adds little coils to your simplified hair, to stand as the curls that had escaped your parts when you both were swinging.

An intense yawn leaves you as the last few minutes of class tick by, with your instructor( who insisted on being called professor despite running a poorly taught class at a small community college) talking about a topic you couldn't bring yourself to care about. You couldn't get much sleep after your amazing encounter with spiderman last night. All you could do is run over the entire ordeal in your head over and over. Which you think you would've been tired of doing after relaying the story to your sister and all your friends about a hundred times, enough for them to get sick of it anyway. You're in the middle of skipping through the songs on your phone when you finally notice other students getting up to leave. Technically you didn't have to stay for your instructor's rambling but it always felt too rude to just get up and leave in the middle of them talking. While stuffing your binder back into your backpack, two classmates you'd consider friends walk up to you while chatting.

“Y/n are you going to the student store? Let's go together, I want some of those fruit snacks!” one of them says while leaning a hand on your desk. The other sits at the desk beside you, a desk belonging to a guy named Peter. Now that you think about it, he'd rushed out of class a while ago and hasn't come back. Maybe he had an emergency. You contemplate grabbing his backpack for him, noticing he'd left it behind, but decide not to. How would you even give it back to him? What if he comes back for it after you left?

“Y/n?” Your classmate calls your name again since you hadn't answered them, making you snap out of your thoughts. You quickly stuff the rest of your things in your bag.

“Oh yeah. I don't know you guys. They haven't changed what they stock in a while now. ‘M getting kind of tired of that stuff.” You hum while grabbing your purse and phone.

“Then just walk with us over there.” Your other classmate suggests and the three of you make your way out into the hall.

Peter weaves through the crowd of people leaving their classes for the day. He had spent way too much time dealing with that bank robbery. If he had just left after webbing them up instead of taking the time to bother them, he would've gotten back in time. Now he's going to miss the chance to talk to you-.

You run into a solid chest the moment you step out of the door, hard, because the person in front of you was rushing.

“Oh man! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry are you alright!?” Peter gasps after almost bulldozing over you. You're busy holding your nose and Peter is trying to catch a glimpse of your face to make sure you're not bleeding, when you both notice that you're talking to the person you were just thinking of.

“Oh Peter. I was wondering if you were coming back to class. Your backpack is still over at your desk.” you report once you realize who you're talking to. Peter just pauses and looks at you for a second. It's crazy that he's seen you plenty of times before today but just because of your half an hour long interaction yesterday, things felt different. He almost felt a little naked without his suit on, like you'd recognize him right away.

“Peter?” You ask him again and he finally remembers to human. He blinks a few times before nodding his head.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I had to go take care of something, but thanks. For looking out I mean.” He says hurriedly before letting out a sheepish laugh. He looks up at you with a cute smile that unexpectedly makes your heart stutter a little. This being the first time you've looked at him longer than the time it takes for him to answer a question, or slide past your desk. You blink and shrug casually.

“ Oh nah, it's no problem. I guess we'll see you tomorrow?” You say goodbye as your friends start to walk off ahead of you, seeing one of their other classmates.

“Yeah of course, see you later.” He responds and you give him a small smile before walking to meet up with your friends. Peter watches you for another second before turning to walk into the classroom. The two of you had so many conversations yesterday and now it was odd to exchange more than a few words. He can't do it though. Can't attempt to interact with you more outside of his suit. It would only lead to unavoidable problems that he'd rather not deal with again. Peter stops in the doorway to the classroom and taps at the frame with his finger.

“Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it.” He chants in his head as his feet stay planted to the spot in front of the door.

“Hey y/n!” You hear Peter call you right as you're about to step out into the quad. You peer back and see him jog up to you. When you look at him with big, questioning eyes he sighs and brushes his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry, but could you tell me the assignments for tonight? I missed them earlier.” He asks you with an adorable smile, and just like that, things are on the course to change, for better or for worse.

🕸️A/n: I can't believe I finally finished this, I started it in June last year. I told myself I'm gonna finish all the fics I want to read this year, no matter how long and complicated, and I'm already off to a great start. Super proud of myself. This is my first post on this blog so, thanks for reading!🕸️🕸️🕸️

🕸️Taggies: @cookieswithay, @bokutosbiceps

[pleasantspark]

Zoophobia is okay but...

I did it, I finally caved in and started reading ZooPhobia, you know? The Comic that Viv put on hiatus (in the comic industry when a comic is on hiatus it means its cancelled, see: Mega Man Archie Issue 55 for more.)

The series was mediocre at best because it was written by a young Viv, but coming from someone who was from the Hazbin/Helluva Fandom its... Not all that different.

Pros

Color Palettes are varied, you don't have red and black all the damn time. The cast actually has pastel, some of which aren't borderline eyestrainy.

The beginning of the story sets us up to a good premise.

Gustav.

Cons

While the beginning was off to a fantastic start, the middle and \towards the end shifted from Cameron (Our supposed main character) to the High School Drama. There was a subplot with Zill and his girlfriend fighting but just like Chaggie it was resolved and even mocked about for being cliched.

Since it was on Hiatus there was not much left answered and some things are confusing.

What the hell is Zill?

Similarities between Zoophobia and Helluvaverse

It's not any secret that the main characters from Hazbin Originated from ZooPhobia but I feel most of the storylines that existed in ZooPhobia was also repurposed into Hazbin or Helluva or even straight up transferred, most plots that were possibly planned or so would be in this exactly.

ZooPhobia has the same issues Hazbin has, the lack of pacing and rushing through pivotal arcs while introducing characters (and infodumping/abandoning them in the same arc) just to give one backstory and dip.

Just like with Cameron while the story initially started with her it pivoted to random people (literal whos?) and had no ryheme or reasoning, Charlie later became Cameron in her own show.

They force conflict too early in the story especially when we barely got to know any characters (Zill and his girlfriends cliche argument.)

Then there was lost aspects that could have been explored, why does Cameron have Zoophobia? Why was Cameron sent to Safe Haven? Why is Damien so interested in Zill's girlfriend? So many questions and yet no answers, the story had potential but was sidelined for Hazbin and Helluva and both aren't any different from Zoophobia in terms of their own issues.

The fact I decided to cave in and read this only made me even more mad that we ended up losing something that could have marked Viv's actual career, I guess she wanted to be a screenwriter, but webcomics in general are better because at least you can get more out of it.

Zoophobia is okay, but could have potential and it was shelved and forgotten about thus making it free game for those who wants to rewrite it, I'm only taking Gustav and that's it.

[ppnuggiexxx]

Could we please get a soft, sweet oneshot of the reader braiding Satan’s hair because she loves it so much?? 🙏🙏

-> braiding satan’s hair || whb

• sfw | implied female reader

• sorry for the lateness !! hope you enjoy :3 !! tysm for being one of my first requests ♥️

any time he would sit down beside you ,, on your lap ,, or just in front of you it was like your hands already knew what to do . they'd always find themselves in his hair ,, kneading through it and untangling any knots that formed . you were careful around his horns though ,, knowing how much of an erogenous zone it was .

satan could deny that he liked your hands messing with his hair ,, though you and his nobles knew otherwise . it wasnt like they would think differently of their king for having such soft moments . they knew how much it put him at ease ,, a sort of stress reliever from the continuous angel attacks and dealing with the other kings .

" did you use a new shampoo ?" you asked out of the blue . his hair smelt different ,, more floral-like than usual . often it smelled of smoke if you caught him after an angel attack ,, other times of oil or gasoline when he was working on his bike . today however was different ,, as no angels showed up to wreak havoc (maybe it had to do with it being sunday ?) and satan had no meetings with his nobles or the other kings . nor had he been working on his bike today .

" it was something paimon recommended i use ,, why ?" satan asked ,, eyes focused on the show in front of you both . " it smells good on you ,, what brand was it ?" it wasnt out of the norm for paimon to recommend you different brands down in hell for you to use . it didnt matter what it was : makeup ,, nail polish ,, clothing ,, even food-wise paimon would always have the best recommendations . he's one of the few to get you to try food that looked unappealing that actually had tasted quite well . any time you went out to eat with him you'd often ask for his recommendation of what tasted good based on your own tastes .

        " are you saying i dont always smell good ?" satan's attention turned from the tv and towards you ,, angling his head up to look at you . " no ,," you rolled your eyes ,, " it was just different today ,, thats all ." satan eyed you for a moment then returned his gaze to the screen .

        " it was this new company that just released hair products ." satan informed you ,, yet kept it vague . " theyre a company from tartaros ." he added quietly ,, narrowing his eyes towards the tv . you only hummed ,, raking your fingers through his hair and dividing a small strip of it into three strands . " ill have to keep an eye out then ."

        carefully you crossed the strands over one another ,, making a small but simple braid on the back of his head . it wasnt as though you used all his hair ,, that wouldve been quiet difficult considering how much there is and how thick it is .

        you were thankful for soft moments like this; being able to enjoy your lover's presence without a worry for whether or not more people would die . it was easy to get caught up in the pain and commotion angel attacks would bring; the gore and massacre angels would cause towards the devils residing in gehenna . it felt that every day led to more bloodshed ,, every house built meant another dozen destroyed . it felt almost meaningless to even continue to reside in the nation ,, but the king and his citizens were strong willed . they wouldnt allow their beloved country to be taken out so easily ,, and its the main reason the angels' attacks havent been as useful to their plans .

        even without the help of other nations gehenna has upheld itself thanks to its residents . strong and loyal to their nation and king ,, they continue to fight for their country and freedom . it was admirable ,, how long theyve fought for their land yet how long theyve lasted against the angels .

        your fingers weaved the strands back and forth ,, finishing the first small braid and moving on to make another . " anything special you want to do later today ?" you asked ,, inquiring for his answer . some days satan wanted to just spend alone with you ,, having domestic moments such as these or doing other things . other times he would take you out with his nobles to a bar in gehenna ,, or a restaurant to celebrate another victory .

        " a new cafe near the outskirts of gehenna opened ,," his smiled widened . " wanna see what sort of treats they have ? i already heard from leraye that they have good cakes ,, and sitri complimented their tea ." the king shrugged . it seemed the moment you turned on a show from your childhood (thanks to the power of youtube) satan has been stuck to the tv screen like an ipad kid with cheetos . maybe you should implement a screen time limit ,, but it was reminiscent how he was the same way as you were as a kid .

        your eyes were stuck to the screen ,, interested in what the characters would do next to solve the problem . with how preoccupied your mind was you didnt even realize how many small braids you'd made in the devil's hair . they were scattered around ,, but definitely looked nice . though a few you could tell were somewhar scrappy . maybe you should ask paimon for some cute little hairpins to put in satan's hair ,, maybe a little kitty or some hearts to hold some of the braids in place next time .

        " what time you want to leave by ?"

[ranikyani]

Lord God, I come to you a sinner, and I humbly repent for my sins…. PLEASE do not let this girl be pregnant! I lowkey fuck with Camille but no I want Jamani as many times as he nutted in Imani and she never had a slip up just one more time… plsss 🥹

If they get back together Imani deserves PEACE they’ve come so far as individuals i dont want her to be another Issa 😭 plsssssssssssssssssss. He’s already put her through so much. She can’t take no more! I canna’ 😭😭

I need the paparazzi to be useful just one goddamn time and drop the pics of Imani entering the party with the engagement ring on! What are yall made for? Hello, I mean the story should’ve been out by the time she got in the car. Do Something! Anything!

& EJ I thought he was a good friend at first but EJ… he’s a fucking hater! I see it now. Why do you hate Imani? Not one time has he said anything to hold Jameson accountable frfr like okay that’s your homeboy but he was dogging his girl out and you ain’t say too much but now she selfish for finally leaving to regroup & she gotta prove some shit to you if she wanna come back!? Fuck off EJ. “Straight to hell with your intentions” He move like Imani cheated on his friend or something, like what’s good!?!? I can see if he was moving like Genie and he just got tired but you don’t do nothing but talk shit. I’m tiredddd.

I want to know more about Momma Lucas & ik we don’t talk abt Bruno but I wanna know abt his daddy too 🫣 oop

This was me the more I read, I was so excited at first and well…. I hope the tea gonna spill that Momma Lucas sent that invitation & it was hand delivered 👀 I’m so obsessed. So locked in. & so happy it’s Wednesday. ✨

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters):

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Chapters:

Neon Lights Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: A year has passed since Imani and Jameson's painful breakup. Once again, fate draws the two together again...but it's not as joyful reunion as either thought they'd have.

Warnings: smut (18+), toxic relationship, mentions of therapy, out of control drinking, and emotional breakdowns, sex (p in v, creampie, dirty talk) -- if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 8k

Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: 

The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

Anaïs Lucas sat at her writing desk, the faint scent of her signature jasmine lingering in the air. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock on the wall. She flipped through the pile of papers in front of her, gaze landing on the embossed invitations for Jameson’s album release party.

Pride made her smile. Her son had an advantage when he got into the industry, yes. He had her name and his good looks but nobody could ever pretend her baby couldn’t sing or that he didn’t work his ass to keep what he got. After he announced he was pushing back his album last winter, Anaïs watched people doubt him. Come January 2026 – a few short weeks from then – they would know that he was worth the wait.

She picked one up, running her fingers over the gold lettering.

You are cordially invited to the premiere of Midnight & Dawn A celebration of James Lucas’ third album

It was elegant, timeless—everything she’d expect from her son’s team. Yet, as perfect as it seemed, something was missing.

Or rather, someone.

The party was in a matter of days and she knew for a fact that Imani wasn’t on the guest list. It made sense. The two had broken up and hadn’t so much as whispered each other’s name in public. Imani had moved on. Jameson had moved on. The cute little girl she’d seen him out with – but had yet to meet – seemed to be distracting him just enough.

But she knew her son. She knew what he wanted. She tried not to be that kind of mother but she couldn't help herself. He was her only child and she wanted him to be happy. She just wouldn't be mentioning any of this to Toni, Imani's aunt and her closest friend.

Anaïs reached for her phone, dialing a number she knew by heart. “Anderson? It’s Anaïs.” Her voice was warm but commanding, the kind that left little room for argument.

Anderson Allen was the head of public relations at Jameson’s label. He had insisted on signing a deal with a label that didn’t feature his mother but it didn’t mean that she didn’t have connections. “Ms. Lucas! What a surprise. How can I help you?”

“I was getting ready for Jamie’s party,” she began, her tone casual but deliberate. "But I heard that the guest list wasn’t complete. You all work so hard over there. I would hate for an omission to ruin the party."

Anderson hesitated. “Omission?”

“Yes. Imani St. Cirie,” Anaïs said smoothly.

The pause on the other end of the line was longer this time. “I—I wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate, given their history. Jameson hasn’t mentioned—”

Anaïs cut him off with a light laugh. “Oh, Andy, let’s not overthink this. Imani is an important part of Jameson’s life, personally and professionally. Inviting her would be…a gesture of goodwill. Besides, I’m sure she’d appreciate the opportunity to celebrate his success.”

Anderson’s voice was cautious. “I suppose we could add her to the list…”

“Wonderful,” Anaïs said, her smile bright. “I’d like to personally handle delivering her invitation. Consider it my little project.”

“Of course, Ms. Lucas. I’ll have one prepared and sent to your house immediately.”

“You’re a gem, Anderson. Thank you.”

Anaïs ended the call and leaned back in her chair, a satisfied expression on her face. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to do what she believed was right for her baby.

When the invitation arrived later that afternoon, Anaïs carefully wrote Imani’s name on the envelope in her graceful script. She slipped it into a sleek courier envelope and sealed it with a flourish.

“Deliver this directly to Ms. St. Cirie,” she instructed the courier who arrived at her door less than an hour later. “Make sure it’s in her hands before the day is over.”

As the courier left, Anaïs poured herself a celebratory glass of champagne. She wasn’t blind to the complications of Jameson and Imani’s past, but sometimes, fate needed a little help—and Anaïs Lucas was more than happy to provide it. 

The studio was alive with energy, even though it was just the two of them. EJ asked for them to run through the albums again. They'd been previewed for the label, accepted, turned in, and there was release party planned for the next night...but still. He wanted to hear the album one more time. Jameson didn't hesitate to go. As the final song climaxed, EJ poured whiskey into two glasses. He slid one across the console to Jameson, who sat slouched in his chair.

“To the masterpiece,” EJ said, raising his glass. “A double-disk album. That’s some legendary-level ambition from my boy.”

Jameson laughed, shaking his head as he reached for the glass. "Very glad I could surprise you all."

EJ snorted. "Hey! I believed in you always. It was touch and go there for a while for everybody else. When you pushed the album back, them niggas started getting nervous. But I knew...my boy was gone get into his bag. I just ain't expect two damn albums at once."

Jameson smirked, tapping his glass against EJ’s before taking a sip. “Here’s hoping they don't flop.”

“Flop?” EJ scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re about to shut the whole industry down. Tomorrow night’s party is gonna be the start of something huge. We need to celebrate. Let’s go grab a drink. Celebrate properly.”

Jameson shook his head, setting the glass down as he finished off the amber liquid. “Un-uh. I’m good, man. I’m tired as fuck. You kept me chained to the recording booth most of the year. I'm going home. Getting in the bed.”

EJ smiled at his friend. “You sure? A little fun won’t kill you.” “Yeah, I’m sure,” Jameson said.

With nothing left to do, EJ finished his drink and threw his hands up. "Alright. I did my best. Aye...I'm proud of you."

Jameson wrinkled his nose, standing from his seat and grabbing his jacket. "Don't get soft on me and shit."

EJ followed his movements, a serious expression on his face. "I'm for real. I was worried about you. Not because of the album. Just because you're my friend. You came out the other side of that shit and I'm proud. I was glad when you stopped drinking every day and started getting fresh air but...therapy? Channeling your shit into music? Camille? You’re looking ahead. I'm happy for you, man." 

Even without him saying her name, she lingered between them. Imani was the unspoken, untouched aspect of his life that he still couldn't face. Still, he knew EJ meant well so Jameson smiled. “Thank you. For everything. You been solid while I got myself together. I owe you, E.”

It was a rare moment when the two stopped teasing each other enough to express what they felt. If Genie was his sister, EJ was his brother. He didn’t know who he’d be without either of them. Before he could change his mind, Jameson leaned in and gave EJ a tight hug. It only lasted a second but he could feel the other man hug him back.

“Alright. Enough of that.” EJ muttered, breaking away and shoving Jameson’s shoulder playfully. “Go home. Go be boring. I’m going to kiss my girlfriend until she blushes.”

He still couldn't wrap his head around EJ and Genie. When Genie had shyly told him she was dating EJ, his first reaction had been disbelief. He never felt a vibe between them but over the next few months, EJ had proved he was crazy about Genie. So Jameson stepped back. He didn't kick up a fuss or cause a problem. When he found time to get out of his own head, he was happy for them.

It was an innocent statement but Jameson recoiled, holding his hand over his ears. “Ew. Don’t tell me nothing you and Genie got going on.” He quickly picked up his jacket, shrugging it on while EJ laughed, calling out to him.

“You better lock Camille down so you can learn from us!”

Jameson walked through his front door and immediately noticed something was off. The lights in the dining room were dimmed, candles flickering on the table, and soft jazz played from the speakers. He’d left the house silent and dark before going to meet EJ. Only three people had a key beside him. His mother, who was not going to set a scene. Genie, who never used it. And EJ, who he just left. Jameson rounded the corner of his living room, entering the kitchen. There stood a woman, at his sink, with her back to him. He recognized her immediately. The messy way she piled her dark brown hair on the top of her head gave it away. 

Camille.

There was something about the way she carried herself—an effortless elegance like she owned the space around her. As one of the most famous young models in the industry, Camille was a striking woman. She held her head high no matter what, her posture perfect. She moved around his kitchen as if this was her home. It was the same way she had approached him – like he was already hers. He admired it, even if it reminded him of someone else, someone he couldn’t quite shake.

“Camille?” he called, dropping his keys on the counter.

She jumped, whirling around with wide eyes. She was wearing an apron with splashes of water on it over her sleek black dress. “You’re…You’re home early.” There were plates on his table, a romantic dinner for two was the obvious aim and he softened. They were casual. Beyond casual but she always took care of him.

Jameson raised an eyebrow, slipping back into the moment. “Am I not supposed to be here?” He asked her, shrugging out of his jacket as he moved further into the kitchen. “How’d you get in?”

“EJ came to let me in before he met you.” She said softly, her gaze following his movements – lingering on his forearms before she turned back to turn the running water off. “H-He was supposed to keep you out for another hour.”

And then it all made sense. The fact that he’d called him out at all to ‘listen’ to an album they’d been listening to for almost a year. Then to want to go out for drinks afterward? His best friend was trying his hand at matchmaking and Jameson couldn’t blame him. Camille was good to him. He’d be a liar to say she wasn’t.

“Ah,” Jameson said, nodding his head. “So, that’s why he was so insistent on hanging out tonight.” He stepped closer, tossing his jacket onto the counter before leaning against it, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry I ruined the surprise.”

Camille pouted but the second she got a good look at him, she brightened and the annoyance melted away. “I thought we could celebrate your album being finished. Just the two of us. I’m happy for you.”

Jameson smiled, feeling a flicker of warmth in his chest. “Thank you. Thank you for coming. Thank you for caring.” He reached out, tugging her closer using the apron. “What’s for dinner?”

“Caprese salad, seared scallops with risotto, and white chocolate raspberry cheesecake.” “Sounds very impressive.” “It is. I slaved over a stove for you.” “I’m flattered.” “You should be. Not all of my friends get this kind of treatment.” “No?” “Un-uh.” “Damn. I must be really good in bed.”

Camille burst out laughing, slapping her hand against his chest. “You’re aight.”

“That wasn’t a no so I don’t think I was wrong.” Jameson teased her, leaning in to kiss her cheek softly. He released the apron before wrapping his arm around her to untie it. When he brought the strap over her head, he tossed it onto the kitchen island 

“Jameson! We have dinner. I already prepared the–” “Put it in the oven. We’ll eat it later.”

He didn’t have to explain any further. She watched him pluck a fork from his kitchen drawer and then she went to do exactly as he told her to do. Jameson waited patiently, taking a seat on a bar stool and pulling the cheesecake toward him. Once she was done and the food was set aside, he patted the stool next to him. “C’mon. Get off your feet.”

In her Chanel dress and high heels, Camille made herself comfortable. 

They settled at the kitchen counter, side by side on barstools, sharing bites of the rich dessert. Jameson fed her from his fork, kissed her, and put aside the fact that he felt a twinge of guilt for bringing her into his house. This was good. He was moving forward as EJ said. There was nothing wrong with that.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jameson told her softly, offering her another bite of cheesecake. When she took it, he followed it with a kiss. Light and sweet. She leaned into him, silently asking for more. Instead, Jameson offered her more cheesecake. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

She glared at him before his confession became clear. Cami gave him a bright smile, her tongue cleaning the whipped cream her mouth left behind on the fork before she spoke. “There is really nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Imani ran her hands over her dress as she looked over her appearance in the mirror. She did a small turn to the left and then the right to see. No flaws. She looked damn good as usual. She sported a new blonde hair color with hints of pink, a brown sheer dress that accented her curves and left little to the imagination, and her wrist and neck were dazzled in diamonds. It was perfect. Undoubtedly, a ten out of ten. Yet, she sighed and turned her body once more like something would change to make it even better. 

“Girl, if you don’t get out that mirror and go to that party, I’m a drag you there myself.” Her hairstylist said. Imani chuckled. “You look good. Now go get your man.”

She waved the woman off. “It ain’t even like that!” She hadn’t seen Jameson since their break-up last year. She only knew him through TV screens, magazines, and as a voice blaring through the club speakers. He was no longer the man that held her at night, told her she was beautiful or showered her with kisses. For the first time since they met, he was James Lucas. And she hated it. 

Imani said her goodbyes to her glam team as she sauntered to her door and then to the SUV. She slipped inside then the driver shut the door behind her. She pulled the ring on her ring finger on and off then on and off all over again.

It was the ring that Jameson gifted to her for Christmas last year. She pulled it out of her jewelry box when she was anxious, only wearing it at home to avoid speculation from the media and her fans. It was her stress reliever that no one knew about. But tonight, it served a different purpose. 

She wanted Jameson back. Bad. And Imani believed wearing his ring to his album release party would show him that she hadn’t forgotten about him. How could she? He was all she ever thought about. She thought she did the right thing when she ended things with him. They were just going to end in heartbreak like they always did. Imani thought breaking the cycle would solve everything. Yes, she was heartbroken when it happened but she always believed she would get over it and feel better. But she didn’t. She never felt more alone. 

For the first three months after their breakup, she distracted herself with work. She dove head first into Diary’s promotional rollout. Anything her label or management wanted her to do, she did it to avoid being with her deafening thoughts of regret and being alone. But her promo tour only lasted for so long. Then she tried partying. She tried drinking. She tried being with other people, but they never lasted long. All she did was compare them to Jameson. 

Despite all her efforts, nothing and no one could fill the void in her heart left by Jameson. His memory lingered in every corner of her mind. She wrestled with herself over the thought of reaching out to him, hesitant and afraid of what she might find. What if he had moved on? What if he wanted nothing to do with her anymore? She knew little about his current life, only catching glimpses through a few tabloids. According to them, he now resided in the bustling city of New York and was dating a woman named Camille, but they didn’t seem serious at all. Maybe she still had a chance. 

When she received a mysterious invite to his album release party, it felt like fate. A sign that she needed to make a move and get him back. She couldn’t let fear hold her back this time. So she booked a flight to New York with her trusted glam squad to help her and now her plan was underway. 

She was still fidgeting with her ring once they reached the club. The blinding lights of the paparazzi never phased her. She didn’t mind the attention. But tonight, their presence only added to the growing uneasiness and heat rising in her skin. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself not to let them distract her from her goal — winning Jameson back. 

With a sigh, she stepped out of the SUV and was immediately swarmed by a frenzy of flashing cameras and shouting reporters. The familiar chaos only felt like an obstacle in her path. 

“Imani, you look stunning! Love the new hair.” “Are you here to see James?” “How do you feel about him and Camille? Do you know that they showed up here together?”

The last question nearly stopped her in her tracks. Her heart fell back into the abyss of despair that hope once saved it from. Jameson and Camille? She thought they weren’t serious, so why the fuck was she at the party with him? Fuck! Imani should have stayed home. Too many eyes were on her to turn back now. Instead, she simply smiled at the question and entered the club.

After she was inside, she made a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring all of the eyes and whispers. Imani needed to take his ring off before anyone noticed. She walked inside, thankful that no one was in there. Then she closed and locked the door so no one could see her lose it.

She felt like such a fool. There was a war raging inside of her. Of course, he moved on. It had been a year. Did she expect him to wait forever? But the other side screamed, how dare he move on? He told her they were soulmates. He said he would never give up on them. Was it all a lie? “Just twenty minutes.” She mumbled to herself. “I can do twenty then I’ll leave and go home.”

Imani exhaled deeply. She pulled the ring off of her finger and shoved it into her clutch. She unlocked the bathroom door, opening it, only to be met with Genie.

She stared at her like a prey making eye contact with its predator.  Her mind had been so clouded with thoughts of Jameson that she didn’t even think about their storm of friendship. She hadn’t seen Genie since last year. She ignored her texts and phone calls like her best friend was a scorned lover. One day, Imani was going to explain, she just didn’t imagine that day to be today. 

The two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Imani finally parted her lips to speak. “Genie, I-” She couldn’t even get her sentence out before the woman moved past her and into the bathroom. Imani sighed, deciding that tonight wasn’t the best time to discuss their broken friendship. She walked back into the club and looked for Toni, the only one she talked to during the whole year. Her energy turned into a dark cloud and she needed someone to brighten it if she was going to make it to twenty minutes.

He heard the whispers before he saw her. Imani had shown up. 

And finally, he saw her.

For the first time in a fucking year, he laid eyes on her. Not a picture. Not an interview or a photoshoot. He saw her.

Relief hit him so hard that he exhaled sharply. She was okay. After Christmas last year, she had essentially disappeared from his life. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he had even chosen to unfollow her on Instagram but Jameson quickly found out that he wasn’t the only one left behind. Genie had lost Imani as well. 

The two didn’t talk anymore. He had nothing to go by that she was okay. The blogs reported every lover and every move she made…but none had been able to tell him if she was genuinely doing okay. He could see for himself – in the flesh – that she was doing damn good.

She was standing alone in the quickly filling club, framed by the soft glow of lights. He could see her observing the crowd, looking for someone. Was it him? When their eyes met, she seemed frozen. Her eyes went wide and he knew immediately she wasn’t looking for him. 

He felt a hand against his stomach and immediately broke eye contact with her. Camille was gazing up at him, a question in her eyes. Jameson had to steady himself before he smiled at her. “I’ll be back.” He heard himself tell her but knew that he shouldn’t leave. He did it anyway, walking across the room as every thought in the world passed through his mind.

The relief that he felt ended, replaced by anxiety. Why did she come? Was she trying to support him? Was she curious about the music? Did she want to rub it in his face that he had lost her? Did she want him to see how fucking good she looked? All of the questions he asked himself set him on edge but he didn’t stop moving in her direction.

His eyes ran from her blonde hair down to her tan dress. And a wave of lust hit him. 

The fabric clung to her body. It was barely there. He could see her body, sculpted abs and thick thighs. Perfectly measured underwear that hid…Well, he knew what it hid. He was so intimately acquainted with her body that he could find her in the damn dark. He couldn’t think like this. Jameson shook his head to clear the thoughts but flashes of memories raced through his mind. Late nights with him sinking his teeth into her thighs as they trembled, the way her abdomen contracted when she was coming around his fingers. The way she called out for him, the word ‘Daddy’ fell from her lips. All of it came rushing back to him with stunning clarity. Shit! No. No!

He wasn’t doing this. Camille was watching him. He had to get right. So many fucking therapy sessions and he was backsliding into chaos already.

By the time he got to her, he had control of himself again. “Hi.” He said softly.

He watched as she slowly turned to look at him. There was no ignoring one another. Not right then. Her lips curved into a smile but he knew right then that something was wrong. It didn’t meet her eyes. She didn’t light up the way she usually did when she was happy.

“Hi, Jameson.” “Thank you for coming. It’s nice to see you.” “I…It’s nice to see you too.”

A lull of silence hit them and awkwardness set in. Before, they could talk about anything and everything but now? He didn’t know what to say.

EJ found Camille standing near the edge of the room, sipping a glass of champagne with practiced ease. She looked every bit the supermodel she was, tall and poised, her sleek black gown clinging to her statuesque frame. But her eyes—dark, searching—betrayed her. She was watching Jameson, observing the way his gaze seemed to drift toward Imani no matter where she stood. Even when he excused himself from her side and greeted other partygoers, everybody in the room knew where he was going.

EJ stepped up beside her, his presence casual but deliberate. “You’re handling this well,” he said, his tone low enough to keep their conversation private from prying ears.

Camille turned her head slightly, offering him a polite smile. “Handling what?”

He gave her a knowing look, one that made her sigh and take another sip of her drink. She broke the pretense that nothing was happening. “You’re not blind, Camille. You see the way he looks at her. And the way she avoids looking at him. There’s history there—deep, messy history. You’ve got to know that.”

Camille’s expression didn’t waver, but she set her glass down on the nearby table, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “I know,” she said simply.

EJ raised an eyebrow. “And you good with that?”

She shrugged, the movement graceful but dismissive. “What am I supposed to do? Pretend it doesn’t exist? Jameson’s been honest with me about Imani. I know what she means to him.”

EJ leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “What she means to him and what she still means to him might not be the same thing. I’m not saying this to scare you off, but if you’re serious about Jameson, you need to be ready to fight for him. Because that connection they have? It’s not something that just disappears.”

Camille tilted her head, studying him for a moment. “Do you think I’m not serious about him?”

EJ hesitated, then shook his head. “I think you care about him. I think you’re good for him, too. But I also think Jameson’s still figuring out what he wants. And if you’re not careful, you might end up hurt. She’s got this... gravitational pull on him, sure. But it’s not healthy. You’ve seen how far he’s come this past year. That’s because of you, Camille. Not her.”

Camille’s lips curved into a small, wry smile. “I appreciate the concern, EJ. Really, I do. But I’m not here to fight anyone for Jameson. If he wants to be with me, he knows where I am. And if he doesn’t?” She spread her hands, her tone light but firm. “Then I’ll let him go. I’m not the kind of woman who clings to someone who doesn’t want to stay.”

EJ studied her, a flicker of respect crossing his face. “You’re a lot calmer about this than I expected.”

Camille chuckled softly, her gaze drifting back toward Jameson, who had finally approached Imani. “I’ve spent my entire career competing—for jobs, for recognition, for respect. But love? That’s not something you should have to fight for. Either it’s there, or it’s not. And if Jameson’s heart is still with Imani, then there’s no point in pretending otherwise.”

EJ nodded slowly, impressed by her composure. “Fair enough. Just... be careful. He’s a good guy, but if things get messy—”

“They won’t,” Camille interrupted gently. “Because I won’t let them. I care about Jameson, but I care about myself too. If he can’t give me what I deserve, I’ll walk away. Simple as that.”

EJ exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Camille smiled again, this time with a touch of warmth. “Thanks, EJ. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, no matter what happens.”

EJ glanced back toward Jameson, then back at Camille. He nodded, a silent acknowledgment of their conversation, and stepped away, leaving her to watch Jameson from afar, her expression unreadable.

“You look good.” He said softly, immediately regretting the words. “I mean, I like your dress.” Nope, that was fucked up too. 

“Thanks,” Imani looked at his outfit. It was already difficult for her to face him, but did he have to look handsome too? This may have been the second hardest thing she’s ever done. “You look uh—you look nice too.”

He peered down at his fit. All black, Gucci. Jameson lifted his hand, pressing it to his sleeve as if he just realized he was wearing clothes worth five grand. “Thank you. It’s just…something thrown together. I’m glad you came. Really.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I did too. Congrats on the album, Jameson. I’m—“ she paused, searching for the right words to say. “really happy for you.”

“Really?” He tilted his head, peering down at her. “Then why do you look upset?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” Imani answered quickly. She wasn’t fine at all. She made the wrong decision to come to this party and now, she had to face a best friend who probably hated her and an ex she was still in love with. She was mentally kicking herself. But he didn’t need to know that.

He knew it wasn’t true but he couldn’t exactly call her on it. That wasn’t his place anymore. “Mhm.” He said softly, giving a nod. “I…I really do hope you’re okay, Imani. Things ended between us but I want you to be happy. Always.”

“I..I want you to be happy too,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m glad to see that you are. I really am.”

“Thank you. It…it took a while to get back to being happy.” The conversation between them was so fucking stiff and he hated it. He watched her fold her arms against her chest, knowing there was a wall between them. They talked to each other like strangers. Once upon a time, he could tell her anything. They could say everything to one another – except the shit that really mattered. And now they couldn’t say anything at all. “Finishing the album helped. Wouldn’t have been able to do that without a lot of people. You included.”

She nodded. “Well, I’m glad I could help. I can’t wait to hear it.” Imani smiled. “Uh, I’m going to go look for Toni now. I’ll see you around?”

He opened his mouth to say something – anything – but instead, he felt a hand against his arm. Jameson turned to look down at her, surprised by her presence. “There you are.” She said softly.

Imani looked between the couple, still with a smile that he couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. “Hi, I’m Imani.” She reached her hand out. Her eyes glanced down at his wrist. She looked back at Jameson with narrowed eyes. The watch on his wrist looked like the one she had sent him a year. Why the fuck was he wearing that? While he was with another woman? 

His head turned so quickly that he almost sprained his damn neck. He watched as Imani introduced herself to Camille, in such a friendly way that he was almost offended. Damn. She could at least pretend to be jealous. Camille gave her a smile in return and reached out to grasp Imani’s hand and Jameson inhaled sharply. He did not see this coming and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

“Nice to meet you.” She said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Imani let go of Camille’s hand. “Nice to meet you as well. You’re very pretty.” She looked back at Jameson. Then at Camille. “Well, I’m going to leave you guys to it. Have a good night.” She said, turning around and walking away quickly before she could hear another word from either of them. 

It took a minute for Genie to pull herself together. When she passed Imani, it had broken her heart not to say anything but she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe any of this shit. When Jameson and Imani broke up, her heart broke for them both. She didn’t know the details but knew it was bad. Jamie was drinking heavily and Imani was out of contact. But she kept trying. She would start by sending a message every week. Then it became every single day. She wanted to be there for Imani. She begged her to reach out if she needed anything…and she never did. 

It was like she lost her best friend. At first, Genie grieved. Every time something wonderful happened with EJ, she wanted to pick up the phone and call Imani…but she knew she wouldn’t answer. Then the grief turned into anger. She resented being so easy to forget.

“I shouldn’t have come,” she finally said, her voice shaky as she approached EJ. She could see his jovial attitude shift when he saw the look on her face. “I don’t know what I thought I’d feel seeing her again, but this wasn’t it.” She hadn’t even known Imani would be there but she knew that maybe there would be a good chance. Still, seeing her again had been a shock to the system.

EJ ushered her from the main floor, getting her comfortable in an isolated corner as he watched her with a steady, concerned gaze. “You wanted to see your best friend. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“She’s not my best friend anymore,” Genie snapped, then immediately winced at her attitude. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you. I just…” She blinked back tears, pressed her hands against her temples. “I mean... she was. For so long. But now? I can barely look at her. She completely shut me out.”

EJ leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It’s probably not anything you did, baby. Maybe Imani needed space. It had to hurt ending things with Jay.”

Genie looked up at him, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “Of course she’s hurting. I know that. I just... I’ve tried, EJ. I’ve called, texted, even sent emails. Nothing. And now, after all this time, she shows up here, at Jameson’s party of all places, looking like she’s completely fine. Like she doesn’t even care that I miss her.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and she quickly turned away, pretending to adjust the strap of her dress. EJ sighed and crossed the room to her, his movements slow and deliberate, giving her space but offering his presence.

“She does care,” he said softly, though there was a flicker of something sharper in his tone. “You don’t just forget someone like you, Genie. Maybe she’s just... not ready to face everything yet.”

Genie let out a bitter laugh, swiping at her cheek. “It’s been a year. How much longer do I have to wait? How much longer do I have to pretend it doesn’t hurt that she’s just... gone?”

EJ placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. “You don’t have to pretend with me. You’re allowed to feel this. It’s okay to be angry, to be sad, to miss her. Just don’t let it eat you up inside.”

Genie turned to him, the tears finally spilling over. “I don’t know how to let it go. She was my person, EJ. And now, it’s like I don’t even exist to her.”

EJ’s jaw tightened as he pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her tightly. He couldn’t help the frustration bubbling in his chest—not just for what Imani’s absence had done to Genie but for the pain she had caused Jameson too. He didn’t say it aloud, but part of him felt like Imani had been selfish, leaving behind the people who had loved her most.

“You exist,” he murmured against her hair, pushing aside his bitterness for Genie’s sake. “And you’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

For a moment, Genie let herself believe him. In the quiet of EJ’s arms, she let herself grieve, not just for the friendship she had lost but for the part of herself that felt like it had been left behind with Imani.

EJ held her tighter, his mind drifting back to Imani’s face at the party. He’d keep his thoughts to himself, but if she ever wanted back into their lives, she’d have to prove she deserved it.

Imani’s patience was wearing thin, and she couldn’t last another minute in this crowded club. What the hell was she thinking, flying thousands of miles to see a man she hadn’t spoken to in a year? She shoved her way through the throngs of people, not bothering to find her aunt in the chaos. All she wanted was to escape, to retreat to her hotel room and try to make sense of everything. 

As she burst through the club doors and into the cool night air, Imani finally exhaled the breath she had been holding since running into Genie. But it didn’t bring any relief. Everything felt like shit and it was all her fault. The weight of loneliness settled on her shoulders like a familiar burden, one that always found its way back to her despite her best efforts to keep it at bay. But this time it hit harder than ever before and threatened to swallow her whole.

Before she could fully immerse herself in the depths of her sadness, a familiar voice jolted Imani out of her thoughts. “Mani? Leaving so soon?” It was Jameson, accompanied by Camille, their arms entwined as they walked towards her. Imani’s heart dropped at the sight, knowing that she was once in Camille’s place. A pang of envy and longing washed over her, but she quickly masked it with a forced smile. “Oh, I’m not feeling well, so I’m a head out,” she lied, trying to sound nonchalant. Jameson’s eyes narrowed slightly as if he could sense something was off. But then Camille leaned in closer and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, distracting him. “I know y’all ain’t out here to bring me back.”

Camille’s laughter tinkled through the air, her eyes sparkled as she glanced at Jameson. “No, we decided to leave early.” she said with a grin playing on her lips. Imani squinted at Jameson, studying his facial features intently. There was something off about him. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Why are you leaving your album release party so soon? Is everything alright?” Imani’s voice was gentle but curious, her gaze searching Jameson’s face for any clues. “I’m just tired,” he answered, but there was a slight quiver in his voice that betrayed his words. Imani could see the lie in his eyes, but she knew better than to press the issue. That was Camille’s job now.

“Jameson and I are going to go get some rest,” Camille said softly, doting on a 6’3 grown ass man like he was a baby. She wanted to hate it...but she knew she'd done the same when they were together. Imani’s eyes flicked back to Camille as she pat his chest and gazed at him. She tried to think of something to say next to the couple, but she was too focused on the way she said his name. It replayed over and over again in her mind. Her stomach was in knots at the sound of it. 

She was reminded of all of the times she used to call him that. Then she looked back at Camille. She was still looking at Jameson with the same look Imani used to have. Imani hated how he could invoke that look in another woman. She was the only one who should get to experience the look of love, lust, and admiration. She hated him for it. 

Where the fuck was her driver? She pulled her phone out of her clutch, opening it with her Face ID. She tapped over onto her call log, realizing that she never fucking called him. Imani was in such a rush to get away from the couple in the club that she forgot to do it. And yet, she still ended up face-to-face with them again. Fate wanted to torture her tonight. 

Imani quickly tapped the contact name and asked the driver to come get her. Luckily, he was just around the corner. There was silence between the three of them. Everything she planned on saying to him before her arrival was thrown out of the window when she first arrived. It all had fallen to shit. Now, her imagination filled those spaces of broken words. All she could see was Camille and Jameson, full of lust, in his house together doing what she would have done to him after his album release party.

Thankfully for her, Imani’s driver finally pulled up and disrupted her thoughts. He got out and opened the door for her. She walked over to the SUV, stepping inside of the car. “I’ll see you guys later…” She said, looking over her shoulder. She hoped her words never came to fruition. 

“Be safe and have a good night,” Jameson said lowly, watching her leave. She nodded, sitting down in the passenger seat of the vehicle. The driver closed the door. Once he pulled away from the curve, she pulled out the ring again. She toyed with it in her hands. Imani went into this party, hoping that the ring would spark a new meaning. She had no idea that meaning would be that it was her only connection to Jameson.

"You too quiet." Jameson muttered, pulling his hand from Camille's mouth. She gasped for breath when he did, immediately moaning out his name. "That's much better."

"Yes, baby. Right there. So good."

She was breathless as she clung to him. They were in the middle of his bed, she was on his lap -- long limbs wrapped around his neck and hips as she ground her hips against his.

Jameson groaned, feeling Camille's tightness stretch around him. Her enthusiasm was always a turn on and he let out a long, slow moan as he thrust deeper. Each powerful stroke, sending vibrations through her body that made her whimper in delight. Every time she moved on top of him, her breasts bounced enticingly against his chest, sending shivers down his spine.

"Ooh! D-Don't stop. Jamie! Just like that..."

The scent of sweat and sex filled the air as they moved together in perfect harmony. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mingling with their heavy breathing and tender moans. Camille's nails raked down his neck and back, leaving small trails of pleasure and pain that only fueled his desire further. He gripped her hips tightly, holding her close as they lost themselves in each other's touches.

He lifted his head to capture her mouth, tongue brushing against her own as he plunged deeper into her mouth -- imitating their movements. Their tongues danced together sensually while their bodies moved in rhythm on the bed beneath them. As he felt himself nearing climax, Jameson pulled back from the kiss to look into Camille's eyes - filled with lust and desire - before letting out a long growl.

"You like that, baby?" She asked him softly and Jameson nodded, words escaping him as his grip tightened on her hips. They'd been sleeping together long enough that she knew what it meant. She pushed her hands against his shoulders, legs unwinding from around him as he went crash back onto the bed. "Go ahead. Give it to me, Jamie." she whimpered.

Camille's nails dug into Jameson's skin as she rode him, leaving small crescents that stung but only made him harder. He groaned deeply, his hands finding purchase in the sheets as he arched his hips and thrust into her. He felt every curve of her body against him, every undulation sending shockwaves through his dick.

"That's what you want?" He asked her through gritted teeth. "Yes!" She responded, nodding her head. "I deserve it. I'm your good girl."

He couldn't take it much more. His head fell back onto the bed, eyes closed, but his hands knew where to go. He lifted them from the sheets, grasping her hip with the left and relentlessly rubbing at her clit with his right thumb. Camille's legs tightened against his outer thighs as she crumbled forward and came on top of him with a shout.

With a final thrust, Jameson cried out as he came inside her, their bodies trembling together in unison. As they came down from their high, Camille cuddled against Jameson's chest, their hearts beating in sync. She nibbled on his earlobe softly before pulling away slowly with a satisfied smile on her lips.

He sat in the dark in his living room, the only light coming from the faint glow of the city through the curtains. The house was silent, save for the occasional creak of the old floorboards settling. Jameson fiddled with the watch on his wrist, loosening the band and twisting it around, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it off.

Camille had gone to sleep hours ago, slipping into sleep with the ease of someone unburdened. For a couple of hours, he managed to forget…everything.

But when it was over, and Camille’s breathing had evened out beside him, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The weight of his thoughts returned with a vengeance, and they all centered on one person.

Imani.

The way she had looked at the party—poised but distant, like she was shielding herself from the room, from him—was burned into his memory. He couldn’t stop replaying the moment she left, her face unreadable as she slipped into the car. He had been overwhelmed by her presence, thrown off balance by the sight of her after so long.

When she had walked away, leaving him and Camille standing there, all he could do was grab a passing glass of champagne. Then another. He had swallowed down two before he realized what he was doing—regressing, using alcohol to dull the sharp edge of his emotions.

He had told Camille he wanted to leave. She didn’t hesitate, her concern for him evident as she agreed. But as they made their way out, they ran into Imani on the street.

The moment replayed in his mind like a loop he couldn’t escape. The brief, stilted conversation. The way she looked at him like she was holding back a storm of emotions. And then she was gone, slipping away into the night.

Her face was trapped in his mind now, every detail vivid and unrelenting. The way her lips pressed together as if holding back words. The flicker of something—pain? anger?—in her eyes. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

All he wanted to do was fix it.

But that wasn’t his job anymore.

He brushed a hand over his head, exhaling sharply as he tried to shake off the thoughts. The urge to call her was overwhelming, a near-physical pull, but he knew it would be a mistake. One glimpse, one rushed conversation, and he was right back where he’d been months ago—thinking of her, wanting her, needing to know if she was okay.

He needed to get a damn grip.

Jameson sat up, running his hands over his face. The watch shifted on his wrist, its weight a constant reminder of the past he couldn’t quite let go of. The room felt too quiet, too still, and his thoughts too loud.

He stood, padding softly out of the living room and into the kitchen, boxers slung low on his hips. He poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, staring out at the city lights.

He had made progress this year, clawing his way out of the darkness that had consumed him after their breakup. He had rebuilt his life piece by piece, and Camille had been a steady presence through it all. But tonight had unraveled something in him, and he hated that it was Imani who had the power to do that.

He sighed, setting the glass down. He couldn’t keep letting her haunt him like this. He wouldn’t.