#was som damn good pasta

[briizer]

Mutt getting used to Livio is a struggle. Safe to say they’re more mean about it than Brad first was

[lacontroller1991]

The Other Stevens: Chapter 3

Main Master List The Other Stevens Master List

Chapter 2

Warnings: age gap relationship, forceful kissing, attempted sexual assault, we hate danny stevens, language, drinking

Word Count: 2k

==========

The following week you and Gordo said nothing to each other about your shared moment. Maybe he decided what he did was wrong? Maybe he doesn’t want you? In either case, you smooth out your dress as you walk through the threshold to his house, the smell of spaghetti wafting in your nose as Danny closes the door behind you, inhaling with a groan. “Damn, smells really good,” he comments as you and him make your way into the dining room where Gordo and Jimmy patiently wait. Gordo smiles upon seeing his son, or you. 

“Well look who finally decided to show up,” he pulls Danny in for a hug, his blue eyes meeting yours. You wish you could read his mind. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.”

“And miss spaghetti night? No way. I hope it’s okay that I brought (Y/N),” Gordo nods with a smile, sitting back down and grabbing his beer.

“Of course, more the merrier,” Danny and you share a glance before sitting at the table, across from Gordo, however as soon as you sit down, you feel their eyes on you. Looking around, you raise a brow. 

“What is it? Something on my face?”

“Mom used to sit there,” Jimmy comments with a sober tone as your eyes widen.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can move,” you start to pick up the plate but then Jimmy and Danny start laughing. Oh. It was a joke. “You guys are assholes,” you mumble before sticking your fork in the spaghetti and twirling the noodles into the prongs, ignoring the way Gordo stares at you. Danny clears his throat before turning to his father.

“So, how was the first day back at training?” 

“It was good. Had to have Dani help me with the stupid computer, but it was good past that.”

“Yeah, he was out of dress too. Couldn’t zip up his flight suit so had to go in civvies. Was totally underdressed,” Jimmy and Danny laugh as Gordo clears his throat and looks down at his plate of food, his face flushed with embarrassment as he slightly pushes the plate of food away. You immediately take notice of his sudden shift in demeanor, while Jimmy and Danny haven’t.

“To be fair, Jimmy. Those things are hard to get into. I used to have one when I was younger and I can’t fit into it either,” you retort, eyeing the younger sibling. “Besides, pretty sure those suits are only a formality, it’s not like he has to wear them. Right Mr. Stevens?” 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he gives you a small smile in thanks before pulling the plate back towards him. 

You lean back in the seat with a huff as your hands rest on your bloated stomach. You had not expected the pasta to be that good, but one thing is for sure that you’re stuffed. Jimmy sets his fork down before looking over to you. “Did you like your meal?” You give him a small smile as you gesture down to the plate.

“Did I like it? Nah, it was obviously very horrible,” Gordo smirks underneath his mustache, his stomach bumping against the table as he stands up, taking the plates with an embarrassed blush. “Oh, thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” your gaze lingers on each other for a second before he shuffles into the kitchen, the plates clunking into the sink. 

“I should probably go help,” you make a move to stand up but Danny quickly snatches your arm, pulling you into him and Jimmy retreats to his room. “Dan, lemme go help.”

“Nah, dad’s got it. I wanted to talk to you,” he guides you through the patio door and out to the pool where the two of you sit on the edge, feet in the water. “So, I’m going to Annapolis soon and I know you’re going to be staying here for school,” he takes your hand in his, interlacing his fingers with yours and you want to pull away. “But, I was wondering if maybe you wouldn’t date anybody?” 

“What?” The question comes as a shock and you pull away, eyeing him suspiciously, he rolls his eyes.

“What do you mean ‘what’? We obviously have a connection. When are we gonna do somethin’ bout it?”

“Danny, we do not have that kind of connection. You’re my friend, my best friend. You can’t be more than that,” you reply as he scoots forward, you immediately lean back, unaware of a pair of eyes watching you and Danny. “Stevens, what are you doing?”

“What I want to do,” he grabs your face in his hands and presses a long kiss to your lips and you try to push away but to no avail. Danny leans all of his weight on top of you, flattening you to the pavement as he tries to deepen the kiss. You struggle against him as tears well in your eyes.

“What the hell is going on out here?” An older voice causes Danny to immediately pull away, as he stands up, meanwhile you make no move to get off the pavement, shock still radiating through your body. “What the hell do you think you were doing Daniel?”

“We were making out, dad. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It did not look like that. (Y/N), were you guys kissing?” You manage to sit up as you curl into a ball and Gordo wants to reach out and pull you into his arms. 

“I- i,i,” you stammer, wrapping your arms around yourself. Gordo thinks for a moment on what to do. It’s very clear you were not enjoying it, and it’s very clear what his own son was trying to do.

“Daniel Gordon Stevens, you better get your ass to your room. Hand me your game boy, your computer, everything. You’re grounded until further notice .Wait till your mom hears about this”

“No, please don’t tell mom.”

“Get your ass inside,” Danny looks between you and Gordo before storming off. After making sure he was inside, Gordo immediately crouches down and shrugs off his hoodie, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Are you okay?” 

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine. He didn’t do anything,” you turn to him before lunging into his arms, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you sob into his neck. Gordo wraps his arms around you and holds you close, rubbing your back as you calm down. “Thank you, Mr. Stevens.”

“Why don’t we get you home? I can give you a ride.” You sniffle as you pull away, wrapping his jacket tighter around your body and he can’t deny how good you look in his clothes, but that’s beside the point.

“I can walk, it’s not that far,” Gordo stands up and pulls you up with him, gently guiding you to the driveway where his corvette sits.

“Nah, I’ll drive ya. It’s pretty late and it’s getting dark. Come on.”

----------

The car ride back to your place is quiet, you not making a sound as Gordo’s eyes keep swapping between you and the road. He’s honestly worried for you, and selfishly for himself. You have been staring blankly out the window while his thoughts run. For one, he honestly can’t even believe Danny would do that. Two, he doesn’t know if you would ever come back and he wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. Pulling into your driveway, he clears his throat, turning to you. “Hey (Y/N)?” you turn to him, his jacket hanging off your frame. “I’m so sorry for Danny’s actions. Ever since the divorce, he’s been acting out and no matter what I do, he’s just-” Gordo tries to think of words to say but there is none he could use that would make it alright. Noticing his confliction, you offer him a small smile, placing your hand on his knee. 

“It’s okay. He didn’t do anything irreversible so I’m okay,” you squeeze lightly as a confirmation as his eyes trail down to where your hand lays on his pants. Ok, so maybe you’re still interested in him. “I appreciate you stepping in. You’re my hero.” Gordo’s face heats up at your compliment as he waves his hand in denial. 

“I shouldn’t have to be. He should’ve never even thought about doing that. I’m going to make sure he’s punished. Hell, I’ll even pull his application out of the academy. Wait til Trace hears about this, she’ll hang him dry.” Your eyes widen at his threat of pulling Danny’s application to the Naval Academy.

“No, Mr. Stevens. All that isn’t necessary. I know how much Danny looks forward to Annapolis, I can’t, won’t, be the cause of him not getting in.”

“He needs to be punished.”

“It’s honestly okay. I’m okay. It just startled me is all. I’m okay,” you reassure him as he gives in with a sigh. “I appreciate that though.” The car goes silent for a moment, a thick tension hanging in the air. "So his middle name is Gordon?" You ask with a sudden humor as Gordo chuckles, dipping his head as he nods.

"Yeah, it's a tradition in my family, first born gets either the father or mother's first name as a middle name and their middle name as a first name," he explains as you blink your eyes.

"So that would make your middle name Daniel?"

"Yep, see you got it," you guys share a brief chuckle before silence falls on the two of you.

“I should probably get inside,” you mention after a minute, grabbing your purse off the car floor and start shedding his navy jacket he loaned you as Gordo’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Thank you, Mr. Stevens.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you exit the car and set the jacket down in the seat before gently shutting the door. Gordo watches as you walk to the door slowly, what for, he doesn’t know. 

Meanwhile, you walk slowly to the door, hoping that he will call back to you, but with each nearing step, you honestly don’t think that’s going to happen. “Hey (Y/N), wait!” Gordo turns the engine off and rushes over to you, slightly out of breath from the short sprint as he stops in front of you. It’s now or never. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to have dinner? With me? The boys are out of the house tomorrow going to visit their mom, so I’m going to be all alone, and I wouldn’t mind some company.” His question is unsure as he looks down at his feet, mentally preparing for your refusal. 

“What time?” His head shoots up and his eyes pop open, mouth hanging open as he struggles to answer. He had not expected you to say yes.

“630 work for you? I get back from JSC around 5ish, so I think that would give me enough time to make something for you.” 

“Oh, you’re cooking dinner?” Your lips twist upward as he wrings his hands together. 

“Uh, yeah. If that’s okay?”

“More than okay. Spaghetti was fantastic tonight.” 

“Thanks, old recipe from my ma.” A comfortable silence falls over the two of you before you take a step forward, grabbing his hand and standing on your tiptoes, pressing a short kiss to his cheek before backing away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He can only nod as he tries not to freak out. He used to never behave like this with chicks. Never.

“Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow at 630.” You squeeze his hand before pulling away. 

“Good night, Mr. Stevens.”

“Good night, (Y/N).” He stands in your driveway, watching to make sure you get safely in your house before making his way back to his corvette, his thoughts running a million miles a minute. What do you even see in him that would make you agree to have dinner with him? He’s old, fat, alcoholic, and mentally unstable. What can he possibly offer you that you can’t find anywhere else? Plopping into the driver’s seat, he looks at himself in the mirror and grimaces. Does he really look that bad? Has he really let himself go that much? He needs to trim his beard, needs to get his haircut, needs to lose 40 pounds, needs to start working out again. Shaking his head, he turns the ignition on and peels out of your driveway with only one thought on his mind. What the hell is he going to cook you?

==========

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[captaincravatthecapricious]

Crutches- Prompt Fill

cw broken bones, food, internalized ableism, dizziness, headaches

Card by the wonderful @celosiaa! I am still accepting bingo prompts! Please send me more because the starred ones are back written already! Send me a prompt and a character and let me know if you want a drawing or writing!

Navigating the London underground on crutches had been trying to say the least.  But, Jon has gotten very good at navigating it with his cane, so out of sheer spite, he managed it without incident. 

He is still clumsy on them, and by the time he reaches the university, he is more than out of breath, having to stop and use his inhaler before he can reach his classroom.  (He will not be sharing that information with Martin, no way.  He is Fine, and that would only cause worry, and Martin has enough to worry about being an EMT).  

Of course the annoying thing is that he broke his Good leg.  

Of course he manages to break his one more functional leg.  What a very Jonathan Sims thing to do.  

He sighs.  He does not want to explain this to his students.  (And he certainly doesn’t want to explain this to Tim and Sasha, but of course they are coming over for dinner.  Actually… he’s grateful that they don’t already know.  Somehow he actually managed to calm Martin down and talk him out of calling them.  Jon leaned hard into the look I’m fine!  It’s a clean break!  It hardly hurts!  It’s fine!  I’ve had much worse, please don’t fuss!  I’m still conscious and everything! Thing.)

Frankly, it’s embarrassing.  

He misses the days where he would just… heal.  

He might still.  Well, he certainly would the old fashion way, but his recovery might be faster than normal.  Physical injuries are still a little aided by his connection to the Eye, however weakened that connection might be.  Doesn’t do Shit for illnesses, but as much as his EDS causes him to bruise, the bruises don’t stick around for too long.  

Just have to wait and see.  

His students stare.  

Jon shivers.  

He tries not to think about the Institute.  He tries not to think about the prickle on the back of his neck… the feeling of eyes on him when there was no one around.  Don’t be daft, Jonathan, you can see the students right there.  You can see their eyes.  You are just their odd professor who looks even more haggard and beat up than usual.  

He Feels much more haggard than usual.  And he’s shaking from the albuterol.  

“Professor, what happened?” One of his students ask as he maneuvers the podium so he can drop his bag.  

He curses at the lack of chair in the lecture hall.  He’s asked for one.  Repeatedly.  And he’s dragged his office chair in with him before, but… he doesn’t exactly have the hands to do it.  

He has to balance on one leg to dig is computer out so he can connect it to the projector.  

“I’m fine,” he answers automatically.  He was.  He is.  Just tripped like the idiot he is, and broke his good leg.  His bad leg had been throbbing since he got on the tube.  

He ignores it.  

His students eye him with clear suspicion.  Which… Jon would have worried about if… they weren’t perfectly justified.  

They had seen him faint many times, pop his hip back in place, watched him dislocate and relocate his arm, and there was the time he had the concussion, and the time he had a migraine and had fainted when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and the time when he had come to class feverish.  

These students have called Martin so many times by now.  

He deserves those cautions glances.  These kids (not really kids, but sue him, they look like kids in his eyes) are ready to call him on his bullshit.  

“I fell the other day.  I’ll be fine.  Just a broken tibia.  I’ll be fine in couple months.  Let’s get on with the lesson.”

One kid raises their hand, and Jon calls on them.  “Yes?”

“Professor Blackwood-Sims, isn’t that your good leg?”

Damn these overly observant students.  If only they payed that much attention to his lectures.  (No, that’s not fair, they are all good students.  The ones who struggle, have good reason to, and Jon has managed to get them to all come talk to him and tell him what they need to do better).  

Jon smiles tightly.  “Well… it was.  Okay, on with the lecture.”

His leg hurts.  The not broken one.  The broken one… well that hurts a little too, but not nearly as much as the one full of holes.  (They are both full of holes, but one was wormed much more thoroughly and hasn’t been the same since.)

Balancing on one leg proves difficult as he’s hit by dizziness.  He’s been standing too long.  Too long on his bad leg, and the tension and pain have given him a headache bad enough that he’s had one of his students turn off the lights.  He can’t face the light of the projector, so he gives the lecture angling away from it.  

One of his students offers to run the PowerPoint so he can sit in one of the desks as he teaches, but he turns her down.  There are only a few minutes left.  He can make it.  Then he can get home and take some painkillers and shower before Tim and Sasha come to dinner.  

He knows he can cancel, but he doesn’t want to.  He’s more dreading having explain what happened.  

He reaches the flat quickly enough.  He should have time to shower and cook.  He hopes.  

He swallows some painkillers dry (just a few so he can still take more before bed and not worry Martin by pushing the recommended doses too far) and works his way out of his work clothes while sitting on the bed.  It isn’t fun.  

He swallows his pride and uses the shower seat.  He hates it.  He hates that he needs it, yes, but honestly it’s more an issue with the textured plastic under his naked skin.  It feels… wrong.  Both because it reminds him of the circus, and because it’s just a bad texture.  It also feels gross… as in unclean.  He cleans it vigorously often, but it still doesn’t feel clean to him.  

Between the headache, and the dizziness from the hot water and several nights of poor sleep (from nightmares and trying to sleep with a cast on which gave him More nightmares), and the pain in both his legs, Jon fights back the darkness around the edges of his vision.  

He will Not pass out now.  

No.  

Will not happen.  No thank you.  No.  

He fights to keep upright and conscious.  And, surprisingly, wins that battle.  He sits on the bed again while dressing, and while braiding his hair. 

It takes him a long time.  There is a lot of hair to work with, and his scalp hurts with the intensity of his headache.  He also dallies, the more time this takes, the longer he can sit.  He should consider dragging a chair in front of the counter and a chair in front of the stove.  That could make cooking less painful.  

Well, in some ways.  

The unnatural angles are hell on his wrists when chopping.  

Lesser of two evils, however, he supposes.  

Shit.  He isn’t going to have time to finish dinner by the time Tim and Sasha arrive.  

And Martin isn’t going to be home for another hour.  He knows, he knows (not Knows, though), that they won’t mind.  Tim might even Help him cook, but… he doesn’t like being a bother.  He wants… well frankly he wants to erase the years of hurt with food (Christ, Martin has worn off on him.  Not that he minds.  He loves Martin).  

The sauce is almost done, but he hasn’t even started the pasta by the time Tim’s voice drifts through the door.  Sing-song and loud.  No knocking (thankfully).  

Jon hates that he needs the crutches to get to the door.  He hates that his vision is swimming by then too.  The painkillers took the edge off the pain, but can’t do much about the other stresses on Jon’s mortal frame.  

“Be there in a moment, or you can just let yourself in,” Jon calls back.  He has to pause and lean on the wall.  This is all very irritating.  

Apparently, Tim had already been halfway through unlocking the door, because he’s in before Jon can even finish the sentence.  

“Jesus, Jon, what did you do this time?”  Sasha exclaims, quickly, but gracefully pulling off her coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door.  It’s less a question than a statement.  

“Hello Sasha, Tim.  Dinner isn’t quite ready, but it’s not too far away.  In the meantime there’s wine.  Martin will be here soon, but his shift isn’t over yet.”  His eyes are closed.  Head tilted back against the wall.  The room finally stops spinning around him.  

“What did you even do?”  Tim this time.  

Jon… doesn’t meet his eyes.  He knows he is blushing, but there isn’t much to be done about that.  He mumbles.  He doesn’t know why.  He knows it won’t work.  Shoving out the words too fast to be understood.  

“What was that Jonny?”  That is a cackle.  Tim is cackling.  Tim, is very irritating… but he does love him, even when he’s teasing.  

“Tripped over my cane.”  Jon says as quickly and quietly as possible.  

“Only you, buddy.  Only You, could do something like that.  Now PLEASE SIT DOWN BEFORE YOU FALL OVER.  I can finish making dinner!”  Tim herds him to a chair.  In the kitchen, because Jon knows that Tim knows Jon won’t actually relax on the couch or the bed if he’s told to.  

“Okay, Jon, what’s left to do… No buts!  This smells amazing and I can’t fuck up pasta, probably.  At least I assume you planned pasta, because there is a box on the counter.”  Sasha says this brandishing aforementioned pasta.  

Sasha makes him tea.  Tim makes the pasta.  (Tim is absolutely the chief between the two of them.)  

“When did you last have painkillers?”  Tim asks.  

“Not too long ago.  Really I’m fine.”

Tim hmmms.  

Jon finds himself nodding off at the table by the time Martin comes home.  

He knows he’s being talked about.  

“Hey, sweetheart.  Hey?”

Jon sleepily raises his head from the table.  “Sorry, I went to work.”  

“Love, I thought you were going to Zoom in today.”  Martin doesn’t sound Angry.  But he doesn’t sound happy about this.  In Jon’s defense, he did say he would see how he felt, and he felt fine in the morning.  

Jon whines, he hates disappointing Martin.  

“We can talk about that tomorrow.”  Martin presses a kiss to his forehead.  

“Hey!  No sleeping until we eat!”  Tim.  Mock serious.  Although he will be very serious if Jon tries to skive off to sleep without some food.  

“Dinner, then I vote we cuddle Jon until he gets some rest!”  Sasha this time.  

Just like old times.  

He knows he will be teased for How he broke his leg.  He knows he and Martin will have a serious chat about him pushing himself.  

But for now there is food, and cheer, and his loved ones.  

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Erik and reader getting involved only to find out that he’s really crazy. “Boy next door” I’m obsessed with you type of crazy.

Cingulomania

(Sing-gyoo-Loh-may-nee-uh)

A strong desire to hold a person in your arms.

Ineffable;

(a.) too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.

Lacuna

(n.) a blank space, a missing part.

——————

He was perceived as familiar, approachable, and dependable, typically in the context of a romantic relationship. He didn’t try to stand out in a crowd or be the center of attention but he still shined. But then...he was orphic; mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.

Y/N first met Erik at a poetry reading. She came with her friends and he came alone. Although it was their first time meeting, she could have sworn she’s seen him before. Maybe, they crossed paths on the train home, or maybe they lived within the same area. Sitting alone at that table, eyes focused on the person who recites their poetry, Y/N couldn’t help but to stare at him, hoping that he would notice. After a round of snaps from everyone, she looked back over at him, his eyes connecting with hers like a magnet. She gave him a faint smile before turning away.

Y/N didn’t understand the way the simple interaction ignited his soul. He’d been wanting her to do that for a long time. Ever since he first saw her on the train, the smell of blueberries in her hair and cocoa butter on her skin. Erik would position himself behind her every train ride so that he could discreetly smell her or feel her warmth against his. He was obsessed with a woman he didn’t even know personally. So obsessed that he even figured out where she lived. Park Slope, Brooklyn. The outside of her apartment painted a brick red. She lived on the second level providing a spot on view for him to admire her. This was his regular thing after work, standing across the street for hours just watching her.

It was as if his fate was set. He had to approach her now that she finally looked at him with interest. Finally, she was going to be his and only his. He could claim her properly, smell her any chance he got, touch and kiss all over her beautiful frame. What surprised him after the poetry event was that she approached him first. At the bar, she walked up to him, Erik trying his best to act natural.

“You come to these often? I’ve never seen you here before.”

She sounded like heaven itself.

“First time. Figured I’d come and support since there are a lot of talented black people here tonight.”

“Did you come alone?”

You know I did, he thought to himself.

“Yes,” he looked down at her, “didn’t have anybody to go with.”

She had this mesmerizing look in her eyes. The same look he would give her and she didn’t even know the effect she had on him. Y/N drove him crazy.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, reaching out to shake his hand. Erik takes it, feeling nothing but the soft smooth skin of her palm. His eyes trailed from the gold tennis bracelet around her wrist and up her arm where a small tattoo of a famous poetry quote resides. He memorized those words already. That’s how much he’d paid close attention to her.

“Figured I should introduce myself just in case you wanted to come with me to one of these things instead of by yourself.”

“What makes you think I would want to?” He teased.

“I’m not convinced by that at all. I have a feeling you would.”

You don’t know the half of it, girl, he thought.

“Oh, I would...” he leans in towards her face, his lips mere centimeters away from hers. The Cupid’s bow of her upper lip and the way her bottom lip pouts always drove him wild.

“And I’m Erik.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

“Erik...” she spoke in a honeyed tone, “I like the way that rolled off my tongue.”

He didn’t need that thought. It only made him think about fucking her with his name rolling off her tongue in between moans. She was very lucky that he had complete control at the moment over his actions. If he didn’t, he would have ripped off that little black dress and spread her legs over that bar stool she was currently seated on.

“You’ll like it even more if you let me take you home.”

————————

Present Day:

Erik: Y/N? Where are you?

Erik: why aren’t you answering your phone?

Erik: I called you like five times. You know I don’t like it when you ignore me.

She stared at her phone from her desk. This was becoming ridiculous... and scary. He was becoming suffocating to the point of death. She couldn’t even go to work without calling her phone, sending her pictures of his naked body, and nasty texts. Now, he was pissed off because she was busy that she ignored his advances. It wasn’t her fault that her job had a no phone policy put in place now because client emails were being ignored.

Her phone vibrated loudly against the surface of her cubical desk. She sighed with frustration, excusing herself to go to the employee bathroom. She chose the one where only one person could occupy it, locking the door and turning on the sink. Y/N picks up the phone.

“Erik you know I am at work why are you blowing up my phone! I told you I can’t be on my phone at work! You want me to loose my job?”

“Hello to you too, beautiful,” he says with a spiteful tone, “and don’t fucking raise your voice at me! You remember what happened the last time?”

She couldn’t forget. The sex was psychotic. Y/N woke up with scratches and bite marks all over her.

“You are taking things too seriously, Erik. You can’t act like this I have a life too.”

“But you don’t need to work. I can support you. That’s why I need you to move in with me.”

Y/N couldn’t begin to describe how pressed Erik was for her to move in with him. She loved him but right now they had some things to work out before their relationship ended.

“Hello?” He spoke.

“I don’t know about that, Erik.”

“Why? Don’t you love me?”

She couldn’t stand when he did that.

“Of course I do, but..”

“But what?!! There shouldn’t be a but if you love me Y/N. I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

She looked around the restroom, a nervous feeling circulated her belly.

“Maybe we should talk about this later, okay? I got some work that needs to be finished. Dinner? My place?”

“Nah, lets do it at mine this time around.”

She blanched.

“Erik, we always do it at your place...”

“You don’t want to be there or something?”

He could go from sweet to evil in a matter of seconds. No, she honestly didn’t want to be at his place. If she did, he would beg her to stay or MAKE her stay and then she would never go back home. She couldn’t even breath in her own skin. Y/N couldn’t even remember what she smelled like because everything that surrounded her reminded her of Erik. It was as if he was non verbally telling her that she was his and only his.

“I just have things to do around the house that’s all.”

He went silent, Y/N chewing on her bottom lip.

“...fine. We can do your place.”

She quietly let out a sigh of relief.

“Great, I can cook for you and we can have movie night.”

“Can you wear that little black slip dress you wore when we first met eachother? You know how much I love that on you, Y/N.”

“Erik, you always make me wear that,” she complained.

“So? It’s my favorite. I want you to wear it...no panties...no bra...just the dress.”

A knock came to the bathroom door, startling her.

“E, I gotta go, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“OKay, see you soon babe.” He gave her a round of kiss through the phone before hanging up.

—————

She figured she could make some Cajun shrimp pasta since she had all the ingredients at home. Entering her building, she checked her mail slot, finding it empty. It used to have flowers almost every Wednesday from Erik but he stopped doing that once she explained to him that she didn’t have enough vases to hold all the roses and gardenias. Taking out her key, Y/N opens her door, the vision of Erik standing before her with his hands in his jeans pockets. Before she could even express how she felt about him being at her place before the scheduled time AND unannounced, he scoops her up, twirling her and kissing her with a whole lot of tongue. She leans away from him, trying her best not to appear annoyed with him.

“I thought dinner would be this evening?”

He didn’t even bother responding. He had his face buried in her neck, smelling her with loud sniffs and squeezing her waist tightly. Y/N looked worried, bringing her hands up to cradle his face, making him look at her.

“You smell so...good...”

“...thank you. Erik,”

“I wanted to suprise you.”

She gave him a perplexed look, “how did you get a key?”

Erik bit down on his lower lip, taking his thumb to stroke her cheek, “I got one made for me to use whenever I needed it. Figured since your mines I can come and go as I please, you agree?”

No, she didn’t. Y/N slips out of his hold, walking to her living room to remove her heels. Erik brushes up against her, startling her. She could feel him unzipping her skirt.

“Babe, I just got home,” she whines.

“And I haven’t seen you all day...I need you. I need what’s mines.”

“Right this minute?” She questioned with annoyance, “I’m tired and I expected to take a nap before you got here.”

“You can still take one, and I can watch you sleep.”

All of these signs made her believe he was greatly obsessed with her. Overly needy and a damn psycho when he didn’t get his way.

“We need to talk...” she turns to him.

“About you moving in with me? Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

Erik pulls her down and over his lap. She straddled him but that position wasn’t right for the topic of conversation. How dare he look at her with those brown eyes.

“We should take a break.”

The brown in his eyes fogged with an eerie black. Even though his eyes looked enraged, the stroke of his finger tips on her back was comforting.

“You wanna break up with me?”

“No-no, just take a little time away from eachother. I can see my friends and family,”

“But you have me. I’m enough to be all that for you.”

“Babe, are you hearing yourself?”

“Loud and fucking clear,” he clenched his jaw, “Are you...are you sick of me or something?”

“I just think that we need some time apart. You’re... I just don’t want you to get so overworked because of me.”

It didn’t matter how sweet she sounded. She wanted a break from him for however long that would be. His resolve slipped and the palpable attraction he had to her couldn’t be ignored for days and days.

“You know what breaks lead to, right?”

She sat very still over his lap.

“It means you get used to me not being around, and then you start enjoying that...a little too much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,”

“Shut up while I’m talking!!!!!”

He scared her with just his tone alone. His face softens, eye brows knitted together with worry while his hands grabbed her hips. Y/N swallows spit, waiting for him to say something.

“You want a break to do what? See other people? You are mines, Y/N. I knew that the very first time I laid eyes on you.”

Erik didn’t know if Y/N had other men trying to talk to her. He had such a close watch on her like he was a damn P.I that he was certain she wasn’t cheating or other men were begging to be with her. Guys would look though, that didn’t bother him too much because he knew the effect his woman could have on people. Women and men. Look at him, he was head over heels and ready to kill for her. There was the guy who lived above her but as far as Erik knew he was gay. Then, there was an ex of hers who didn’t get the memo everytime he texted her phone. In the beginning when that happened, Erik made sure to link Y/N’s texts and email notifications through his phone to keep a secret eye on her. Sure enough, they were having conversations, nothing sexual just too friendly. That was her fucking ex. She wasn’t allowed to talk to her ex. Erik took care of it, she hadn’t heard from him in about two months now.

“Not every break means go and see other people, Erik.” She rolled her eyes at him. Erik grabs her chin hard, making her look at him. She glared down into those now black eyes.

“But when they don’t see you on my arm, then they want something. C’mere, let me show you something to remind you,”

Erik lifts her up, carrying her to her bedroom. Opening the door, he walks in dropping Y/N on the bed.

“This is another reason why I came early. Look up,”

She does, a look of pure shook on her face. Their was a huge black and white photo of them both having sex, framed and all, positioned on her ceiling. The position he had her in...this was the first time they had sex. Erik wanted to use a camera to record the memorabilia and she agreed. Back then, she was all for this affection and admiration from him. Now, it was like she’d been buried alive. Lungs filling up with dirt.

“Something to remember.” He smiles wide, this longing look on his face, “I can remember that night in detail Y/N.”

“Erik, please, stop.”

She couldn’t look at him without seeing that damn photo.

“Weed after sex.” He closed his eyes, most likely remembering the chill moment under his covers while the both of them talked about anything.

“I licked it, so it’s mines. You’re especially gorgeous when I look up from between your legs.”

It was as if he were created to seduce and destroy. This wasn’t some demonic contract where she signed over the rights to her soul.

“That’s enough, just stop it,” she lifts from the bed, ready to run away from this. It was maddening.

“Where are you going?!!!!”

He beat her to the door, slamming it shut. She backs away, fear on her face and eyes watering.

“You’re not leaving me, Y/N. You’re frustrated baby? Let’s work that shit out. Take all that sexual frustration out on me, please...and thank you.”

“It’s not sexual, Erik, it’s literal frustration. I am suffocating!!!!”

“No you’re not.” He wasn’t convinced. It was as if his brain was wired to believe that it wasn’t.

“You are driving me insane!!!” She wanted to throw something at him.

“Why are you talking to me like this?” He looked defeated. He started bringing his hands to his chest, shaking his head while stepping closer. The back of her legs hit the side of the bed.

“I thought you loved me? I thought what we had was special and you...”

He was between her legs now, reaching out to grab her up against him. He brought his face close to hers, his lips pressed into her cheek.

“You give me the craziest urges,” he laughs, but the laugh wasn’t him...

“Urges?” To do what exactly?

“Wanting a break from me is only gonna make me want you more and more.”

This was a never ending loop. She thought about hiding out at her families but she was certain Erik knew where they lived.

“Urges to do WHAT?”

He played with the hem of her skirt.

“Like...kill for you.”

Y/N suddenly thought about her ex. She hadn’t heard a word from him in a while and just yesterday his sister had called her asking about him. Y/N was still close with his family. Her ex used to say that he would die for her and kill for her too but the way Erik said it...he said it like he was used to this type of thing. Like it was a regular thing to just kill someone.

“Erik...what did you do?”

He froze, looking up at her with a glint in his eyes.

“What wouldn’t I do for you?”

@tgigoldie​ @soufcakmistress​ @chefjessypooh​ @chaneajoyyy​ @pananegra​ @theblulife​ @becincere​ @blaqwidow91​ @fish-outta-watah​ @moonlight-night-sky​ @eyeknowmywrites​  @crowngold​ @njadakillthiscookie​ @blktinkerbell​ @luvanxi​ @sheisexcellent1​ @chocolatedippedinhoney​  @brandithecrystalgem​ @dababydababydababydababy​ @soulfulbeauty19​ @btitannaaa​ @sunkissedebony97​ @youngblackndgifted​ @harleycativy​ @rbhp​ @thee-germanpeach​ @thadelightfulone​ @bugngiz​

[thedappleddragon]

ok homos lemme try and remember what I did today

I woke up and watched tiktoks, hung out, and assume that with any time gap today I was either on tiktok or playing Stardew valley. actually while I was playing Stardew I messaged my brother thru steam which is ironically probably the best way to contact him since he doesn't reply to his phone all that often. I went into the kitchen and fed my cat and when she was done eating I decided to try and get her to hang out in my room again, and after lots of petting and gentle persuasion *cough holding her with a blanket cough* she flopped down and let me pet her belly and she didn't try to run away. she fell asleep on my lap ad it was really cute :,) and later in the day when I had me door open she ran down the hallway and came to hang out with me in my room all on her own!!! I love her. I eventually took a shower and washed my hair and texted my dad to bring home som ingredients for a baked feta pasta that’s been going around tiktok apparently. it was really easy and pretty damn good but my dad added too much oil when I told him I already added some and probably added a shit ton of parmesan when I wasn't looking :/ but stilll good! I just have to make sure he doesnt do it again next time. I also made too much macaroni because I didnt know what kinda pasta/sauce ratio we were going for. my dad suggested some sorta meat sauce he could make tomorrow but later at night my mom called me to her room and when I mentioned that there was extra macaroni she had me melt some velvet with milk and I stole a few bites nd it was actually really good. I was skeptical at first but now I think I'm going to make myself some in the morning lmao. both my dad and sister said the feta pasta was really good. if you just look up tiktok feta pasta you’ll get the recipe. no measurements tho, I just kinda went with my heart or however much was in the package asdfgaldkjh. I made myself a new phone background too. its just the backsnax loading screen I had before but I slapped some pink filters on it and made my own glitter effect in the spirit of valentines day coming up. I want to do something with my friends for valentines day but idk what yet. its too cold to have a cute piknik in the park plus that might be way less fun than Im imagining it in my head. I just want friends I can go to brunch with :( I've tried going to brunch a could times with my classic friend group but they are ALWAYS loud and even tho I have a fun time it can be embarrassing and draining to hang out with them. I miss them since they're all away at collage. idk man I wanna lay down and be cozy but I had a few scoops of icecream while making mom’s mcat n cheese and idk if that's gonna calm me down or wake me up. I guess we’ll see. ALSO I NEVER REMEMBER WHEN HOURLY COMIC DAY IS SO TOMORROW I’M GONNA TRY TO DO IT INSTEAD. if I flop then who cares I guess. I'm gonna have to set a lot of reminders.