#DON'T LISTEN TO HIM DRAG HIS ASS SOMEWHERE WITH COOL AIR.........

[ahogedetective]

"you're not a very convincing liar." / from sakura!

"A-Ahahaha..." Shuichi just laughs meekly in response, not even going to try to deny that, anymore. Shuichi does not do well at all in really hot weather, indicated by the way he had been sweating profusely and looking notably sluggish. He had even taken a break under a big tree with lots of shade, which is where Sakura had spotted him. Though he felt embarrassed being seen by her while looking like this, and tried to insist that the heat wasn’t that bad, that he could handle it.

Of course, being the terrible liar that he is, and the fact he was sitting under that tree for shade... it was only natural she would not believe that. And so, he knew it was a good idea to not be stubborn and just surrender, slumping his shoulders as he sighs.. “O-Okay, you got me... Yeah, I needed to just... get under some shade for a moment. I had to take care of a few things today, which is why I’m outside, b-but... I admittedly don’t do well in this kind of heat at all, a-as you can see...”

“T-Though, I did make sure to drink water!” He holds up his empty water bottle. “I will have to get some more, but I at least made sure to stay hydrated. I’m sorry you had to see me like this, though... I just didn’t want to worry you, was all.. but, I will be okay. Wherever you was initially going, don’t let me stop you, Sakura.”

[twjournals]

All For Good Reason

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, both characters are of age, eventual dub-con, stalking, assault, violence

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You have noticed something is not quite right about Peter Parker. A squeaky clean image, but always disappearing at the first sign of danger. You are determined to find out whatever he is hiding. Peter notices your interest in him. He thinks this is a game of cat and mouse. After all, you have your reasons and he has his.

This will be a new upcoming trilogy I will be working on! This will be a dark story so keep that in mind for future posts.

"Parker..." You tsked as you stared through the binoculars at him in the distance. "What are you up to?"

It was not what it looked like, well it was but it wasn't. One might call it stalking, but if you were being completely honest it was all for good reason. Ever since you had moved to Queens, you settled in quite nicely but one thing that did not settle right with you was your next-door neighbor, Peter Parker. There was nothing necessarily wrong with him, at least not as far as you knew, but there was certainly more to him than what was on the surface.

He had always been nothing less than nice whenever you encountered him, in class and outside of it. Well, when he did come to class or stayed through a one. It surprised you how Peter was even passing college. Your family had even gone as far as inviting him and May to dinner on a few occasions, almost every time ending early with Peter hauling ass get out of there and into the night. That was the thing about him. He was almost always in a hurry to be somewhere. Maybe that was where you just needed to mind your own business, but you could not help but wonder why he was always in a panic.

That was how you ended up here sitting in your car, staring through a pair of binoculars for the second time since this week. You had to get to the bottom of his madness. It was dark out, the only source of light being the street lights and the lights to very few businesses that were still open on this street. You did not understand why Peter would come out to this side of the city. You did not feel comfortable being out here even if you were locked up in your car.

You watched as Peter disappeared down a dark alley casually. You dropped your binoculars with a sigh, setting them in your lap as you stared at the dark path he went down. Why did he seem on a mission? What could possibly be down there? You leaned back in your seat, propping your knees up against the steering wheel. It was time to play the waiting game.

You sat in silence, keeping an eye out for him but you never saw him again. You were at mental war with yourself. Should you go looking for him at this point? What if he was hurt? But he was fine the last time you followed him here. What if he was in trouble? He was more capable of taking care of himself rather than you trying to help.

Fuck, why would you come out here? You thought to yourself. You could have just minded your own business, but no you just had to know what Peter Parker was up to.

The clock on your dash rolled as time went on. You gave in. The last time you had left, but this time you were more curious than ever. You were mentally cursing at yourself as you opened the car door. What were you thinking?

You started across the street, walking toward the alley and hugging yourself from a mix of fear and the chill of the cool night. The street was quiet. The silence made it creepier than it would have if people were on it. You peaked down the alley but it was empty.

You forced yourself to keep moving, walking into the alley and looking around you, taking in the overstuffed dumpsters and open air. You sighed, letting your arms fall as you gave up your search. He was gone wherever he was.

You snapped from your thoughts when you heard tires shrieking nearby. You panicked as they began pulling down the alleyway, quickly ducking behind one of the dumpsters and trying to stay as quiet as possible.

You listened to the slide of the van door and the sound of multiple men getting out.

"What are you doing?" A deep voice harped.

You heard a gun cock and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand to keep silent. You suddenly regretted ever leaving the house. "I thought I see someone."

"Stop fucking around. We have work to do." The man snapped, throwing something at the guy. At this point, you were holding your breath. "Probably just a raccoon or something."

The guy finally gave in and you had no choice but to listen as a lock broke off one of the doors to a building.

"Come on. We don't have all night."

The men hoarded into the building, filling their bags full of everything they needed. All you had to do was wait and they would be gone before you know it.

"Well well, what do we have here?" You jumped when a man spotted you out with his flashlight, pointing his gun at you. "Go on. Come on out." He demanded, nudging his gun.

You were scared to move. You couldn't seem to get your feet working properly to carry you.

"Let's go!" He raised his voice and you flinched, quickly sliding out from behind the dumpster. He grabbed your arm, gripping onto it as he pulled you close to him. His gun pressed into your back.

"Hey, boss! Look what we got here." He stiffened a laugh as he dragged you along toward the entrance.

The boss man came out of the building, his eyes falling on you and taking you in. You could feel his eyes scanning along your body. The longer he stared the more naked you felt even though you had clothes on.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone?" He smiled a smug smile, circling around you as he kept his eyes on you.

"I-I-"

"Now don't be scared. We're not gonna hurt you. We just wanna talk." He assured you.

You swallowed the lump formed in your throat. "I was just looking for my friend." You answered honestly.

"Your friend? Out here?" He looked around, stretching his arms out with a stiff laugh. "I highly doubt that."

The man at your side pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your sweet scent. You tried to move away, but he pressed the gun harder against your back.

"You can consider me your friend." He smirked as his head was still pressed to yours.

"I won't tell anyone. I honestly didn't see anything I swear." You started to plead but the man in front of you put his hand up to mute you. You closed your mouth instantly. You did not want to push your luck.

"Trying to leave so soon hm?" You watched as he stepped closer to you, closing the open space between the two of you. "Not having fun?"

He pushed the guy off of your side. "Go make yourself useful."

He scowled as he walked off to help the other men. "You always get all the fun."

You looked down as he towers over you. "Please don't hurt me." Your voice was quiet as you spoke. You could not bring yourself to face the consequences of coming here.

"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. I'll take good care of you." He smirks as he pushes you up against the brick wall behind you and pinning you there. You definitely had been at the wrong place at the right time. You made a mental note if you even made it out alive, you would never follow Peter here ever again.

"Please..." You closed your eyes tight as his hands rubbed up the curves of your body.

Before his hands could get any higher, you feel a gush of wind knocking the older man off of his feet onto the pavement. You fluttered your watery eyes open, blinking back the tears and looking around to see what was going on.

He groaned as he shuffled back to his feet and grabbing you by your throat, squeezing it tight. "Do you think this is a fucking game? Who else is out here?"

"I-I don't know." You clawed at his wrist, pleading to him.

"Don't lie to me!" He yelled as he pulled you off the wall in an attempt to slam you back against it.

"I swear, I don't-" You begged but a flash of red and blue cut you off, sent him flying against one of the dumpsters nearby.

Your eyes stared at the person in front of you, dressed in a red and blue suit. Spiderman. You tried not to be in such shock, but you could not help yourself. You had always heard of the hero, but never had you seen him this close.

His stunt had gained the attention of his other men. Spiderman shot his webs, trapping the older man to the dumpster when he tried to get back to his feet.

He turned to look at you, noticing the other men resurfacing from the building. "Go." He instructed.

He didn't have to tell you twice. Your feet had found the strength before you had even found them. You ran as quick as your feet could carry you out of the alley, stopping for a moment to glance back at all the commotion. You had to make sure he was at least okay even if your mind screamed for you to keep going. You were impressed at the sight of all of the men webbed to the van after they had taken their beating. Spiderman shot his last web over the man's mouth who yelled threats at him before turning to make eye contact with you.

You wanted to thank him, but your voice was lost behind all the adrenaline pumping through your veins. For if it wasn't for him, your own stupidity would have had you dead.

He stood up straight while trying to catch his breath. Even though you could not see his eyes underneath the dark fabric, you knew his eyes were staring right back at you. You gave him an apologetic smile before you ran back to your car, vowing from this point forward, you would never follow Peter Parker into the dark again.

[perpetualcontrolleddrowning]

Blackbonnet Soulmate AU - Part 3

The Nettles in the Garden Don't Go Away JRaylin441

Summary: Adolescents and romance. What could go wrong?

Read on AO3 (x)

Read Part 2 Here! (x)

The first time Ed leads a raid, it feels like jumping off a mountain into freefall. They’re taking a few different ships on and Captain Hornigold (the fucker) let him lead the charge for one of the merchant ships in the back. Ed feels the rich fuckers watching him and trembling while he ties them up and prowls across the deck. He takes whatever he wants. He throws some of it overboard, just to watch their faces twitch with panic.

One of them dares to try to yell something out at him, and Ed puts a bullet between the man’s eyes before he can finish his sentence. It’s heady. He feels jumped-up and buzzing with the power of it all.

All these rich fucking white people. All these beautiful things. He’s the one in control of it all, and he can take and leave what he likes.

And Ed does. The beast in his chest has its blood up from the fight and it won’t settle down. Ed is a growling and pacing thing. He takes his time. He and the men he’s leading sweep each room and ransack them utterly. The trading goods will mostly go back to Hornigold (ass), but everyone knows you can grab a trinket or two for yourself. Ed designates the captain’s quarters to himself and trawls through the drawers and closets and shelves. There is heavy paper, ink as dark as night, fabric that slips through his fingers. Ed can feel his own red scrap of silk in his chest pocket and even though it’s getting old and ratty, it’s still finer than any of the fabric here.

Instead, Ed takes one of the bottles of ink. He sees a heavy, golden paperweight in the shape of a whale and slips it into his pack. There’s some jewelry in the bottom of the wardrobe. Most of it will go into the group collection, but there’s one sumptuous, ruby ring that Ed lets vanish from where anyone else would find it.

He’s drunk on it. So many fine things surround him and he can take anything he wants. He might not have been born this kind of person, but he is going to build himself a monument of beautiful things and spit on anyone who tries to say that he doesn’t belong there.

The beast is snarling and awake. The looting just fed it scraps and it cannot be satisfied. Ed leads the men in moving the valuables back over to their ship, but he’s still a livewire. His heart is beating a mile a minute and the blood is all he can hear. It’s pounding in his ears.

Jack was with another part of the crew, the one on the main ship, and he whoops when he sees Ed’s people climb up onto their ship. Before Ed knows what’s going on, they’re slamming into each other. Jack’s yelling and noogying into Ed’s hair and Ed shoves back. When that doesn’t feel like enough, he wraps his arms around Jack’s middle and heaves him into the air, swinging his friend from side to side.

Jack’s still laughing and yelling when Ed finally puts him down. He’s standing so close. The beast is scratching the inside of Ed’s ribcage bloody, dragging its claws down the bones just for the sensation. There’s something wild and hungry and wanting under Ed’s skin.

He grabs Jack by the shoulders and drags him into a rough kiss. His first kiss. Jack seems to be on the same page, though, slamming Ed back against the low gunwale and pressing into the kiss.

Ed is gasping in between breathless presses of his lips to Jack’s. Lips and hands and hair and chests heaving. He distantly hears some of the men wolf-whistling. At the noise, Jack pulls back and grins right into Ed’s face. He’s never seen a smile that close.

“Wanna go find somewhere private,” he laughs, and Ed shoves him away and then drags him back. Don’t look at me after that. Where are you going?

“There’s nowhere private on this ship. Let’s just find a horizontal surface,” he says, trying to be cool about all of this. Trying to ride the wave his beast is feeding him and not listen to the panicked inexperience at the back of his mind.

Jack scoffs but grabs him by the arm and tows Ed belowdecks.

*~*~*

The first time Stede wakes up with a strip of fabric tied around his hand, he’s a little confused. It’s a tatty, rough piece of brown cotton. There’s no reason for it to be tied like that.

He sits up to get a closer look and sways with a dehydrated headrush. He’d cried himself to sleep last night, and maybe that was where this came from. Crying always leaves Stede feeling a little bit outside of himself and a lot overwhelmed. He never really remembers every moment of his weeping.

So, maybe? He grabbed a piece of fabric to wipe his face with and wrapped it around his hand so many times that it got tangled and tied? It doesn’t make sense, but there’s also no other possible explanation. It wouldn’t make sense as a prank and James-, well. Normally, Stede would take this kind of mystery to James and they would work each other up trying to figure out some magical explanation for what had happened.

Stede tries to do that. He lays back in his bed and thinks about fairy-folk visiting in the night or a mourning ghost trying to pass along a message in any way it can.

The fantasies fall flat without someone else to build on them, to spin them into higher heights. Stede realizes that he’s crying again, the tears slipping down his face and dripping into his hair at his temples. One trembles on the corner of his ear before dropping to the pillow beneath his head.

Well. That was that, then. Stede unwraps the fabric from around his hand and uses it to mop the tears off his face. He dusts off his pajamas and goes down the hall to the communal restroom. No one else is awake yet, and Stede takes his time getting ready. He washes his face with freezing cold water to bring down any swelling from his crying jag. The icy shock wakes him the rest of the way up and makes it less obvious that he spent most of his night and some of his morning crying.

He makes it through the rest of his day, but the next morning is the same. This time, the fabric is a rough red. It’s got flakes of mud crusted into it, and that’s how Stede knows that it isn’t something he grabbed in the night. None of Stede’s clothes have dried mud on them. On the rare occasion that he gets muddy, Stede likes to change clothes and take them to get washed as soon as possible.

A week of this, a different fabric each morning, and it crosses Stede’s mind that this might be a soulbond. That it has to be a soulbond, because there is no one in his life right now that would do something like this.

And what a thought. A soulmate. Someone out in the world with a soul that spoke Stede’s language. There’s a small candle in Stede’s chest, and it flares bright and warm at this thought. He had known that soulmates existed. Stede had even fantasized about what his soulmate might be like. But, none of that had ever felt real. Stede never actually believed that he was the kind of person to get a soulmate. It sounded like the kind of thing that happened to other people. People who were impressive and kind and manly and good influences on their friends. Stede is completely blindsided. He wants to run out of his room and onto the roof of the dormitories. He wants to yell out for everyone to hear.

Stede Bonnet has a soulmate. There is someone who was made for me!

He feels caught up in a swirl of joy. Stede’s heart is a set of butterfly wings, fluttering and delicate and buffeted by the force of his excitement. He wants to tell everyone. He can’t wait to tell James-

Right. He was getting carried away, of course. While some people still talk about soulmates as if they’re your destined person, most people never even meet theirs. The world is too big and the bonds too unique and strange.

And this may be the strangest soul bond he’s ever heard of. Shared scraps of fabric? Does Stede’s soulmate get scraps from him? Do the different kinds of fabric mean different things? If Stede wrote a message on a piece of fabric and tied it over his hand before he went to sleep, would his soulmate get that piece of fabric?

It’s a mystery to be solved. Stede has learned that he solves mysteries best when he’s working with another person to bounce ideas off of, but he’s just going to have to make do. He starts keeping a notebook, chronicling every scrap of fabric, every color, every material.

He experiments, but Stede’s still not sure how it works. When he tries to tie a scrap around his hand, he can never get the knot tight. He twists his wrist and fingers and strains to touch the fabric, but it’s impossible for him to manage a knot when only one of his hands is really usable.

It feels cold and clinical, to take so many notes like this. But, sometimes, Stede will pause in his notetaking and flip back through pages and pages of fabric from his soulmate. It’s been almost a month now. He still goes to bed crying most nights, but the fabric is there when he wakes up. It’s been there consistently.

The candle still burns.

*~*~*

Ed wakes up to the familiar rocking of his hammock, but he feels heavy and weighed down. It doesn’t take long to realize that this is because Jack is laying on top of him, passed out and snoring in his ear.

Right. That had…happened.

It was almost impossible to have sex in a hammock on a ship at sea, but they were persistent and motivated and had eventually figured something out.

Now, Ed’s a little crushed under the weight of his friend and has to piss like a racehorse. He tries to wiggle out without waking up Jack, it was a lost fucking cause from the very beginning. Jack jerks away and Ed shoves at his shoulder.

“Hey man, get up. Gotta piss,” he mutters. Jack shoves at him and generally makes it difficult to get out of the hammock, but Ed eventually manages it and stumbles to the head.

It’s during this trip that Ed realizes there’s a gash along his palm. The cut isn’t deep, but it’s long, and it’s sluggishly bleeding into the divot at the center of his hand. The adrenaline and buzz from the fight and the sex must have kept him from noticing. When he gets back to the bunks, Ed grabs his waterskin from the hook next to his hammock and runs the water over the cut, scraping his nails across the wound to make sure nothing is stuck in there.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Jack mocks from his vantage point in the hammock.

“Cut my hand, dude,” Ed shoots back. “Gotta wrap it up.”

“Pussy,” Jack laughs, before flopping back into the rocking hammock. Ed scoffs back and tears the bottom inch off one of his shirt hems. None of his shirts have full hems anymore. They’ve all been used for scrap at some point, and it’s gotten so bad that most of his shirts only come down to mid-belly at this point. Ed suspects Jack has been using Ed’s shirts for scraps like this too, since they’ve all been getting a lot shorter, even though he hasn’t been hurt for the past few weeks.

The long strip of fabric easily pulls free. Ed tries a few times to tie it around the cut on his hand, but it’s impossible to finagle a knot like this. He tries leaning his hand up against the wall or pulling the fabric with his teeth, but the few knots he manages are loose and crooked, already falling apart.

“Hey, Jack, help me tie this shit,” Ed calls, stumping over to the hammock. Jack grunts and holds his arms up in the air without saying anything. When Ed dangles his hand over Jack’s face, the boy makes quick work of the knot. He ties it firmly but not too tight, and the knot in the fabric sits snugly against the heel of Ed’s palm.

Ed remembers days running around the village where he grew up. Remembers falling and scraping his hands, and the way his mother would hold his small hand in her rough, larger hands and carefully wrap his palms in fabric. Sometimes, when he was hurt, she would sing while she was washing and bandaging his cuts.

Ed can feel it right now. He feels rough hands tying a bandage just right and patting at his fingers to say that it’s done. He can hear his mother singing. He remembers the way that he would ask his mother to change the wrapping every night, long after the cuts had scabbed over and healed. His mother had never acted like it was strange.

Sitting in front of her, while she sang and touched him so softly and took care of him, that was the safest Ed had ever felt.

He looks at the fabric now, tied around his cut palm. It wasn’t his mother, but it was a friend. He thinks about hands and cuts and love and care and bandages and what it means to have someone to help you tie a piece of fabric around your hand.

*~*~*

The fabric stops after a month or so. Stede cries about it, but he cries about everything. It doesn’t mean much when he adds something else to the pile. There’s one moment when he’s trying to fall asleep after the third day of no fabric, and he’s crying because he knows that there won’t be any more fabric tomorrow. He can hear the three other boys’ sleeping breath around him, and he’s trying his best to keep quiet.

Stupid Baby Bonnet. Crybaby Bonnet.

“Holy shit, can’t you cry quieter, Baby Bonnet? I can’t sleep,” Nigel groans. He’s one of the meanest boys in the school, and his bed is across the room from Stede’s. At Nigel’s words, Stede tries to muffle the sobs, keep them trapped and jerking inside his chest, but his breathing is still loud and unsteady. Nigel huffs a breath, reaches to the side of his bed, and throws a shoe at Stede.

He’s being too loud. He knows that. When he still can’t get it under control, Stede stands up and walks down the hallway to the communal bathroom. He sits in one of the stalls and pulls his knees up to his chest.

Obviously, his soulmate wouldn’t keep sending him fabric for the rest of their lives. That was stupid to even think. Maybe that’s not how the soulbond works, or maybe the bond just needs time to recharge.

Maybe his soulmate is mad that Stede never sent any fabric back. Dense Baby Bonnet, who couldn’t even figure out a way to return the gifts that his soulmate sent him. His soulmate probably realized what a shit person they got stuck with. Or maybe they’re just taking Stede’s lack of reciprocation as an indication of how he feels. Maybe they’re just copying what he’s doing. Maybe Stede is a bad influence.

He sits in the bathroom for an hour or so, he thinks. The tears stop after about ten minutes, and Stede spends the rest of the time sitting in the stall, staring dead-eyed at the door and feeling far outside of himself. Finally, he drags his numb limbs out of the bathroom and back down the hallway into his room. Stede curls up in the smallest ball he can manage on his bed. Sleep hits like a wave over his head.

When Stede wakes up, there isn’t any fabric tied around his hand. Instead, he’s holding a heavy, golden paperweight shaped like a whale.

*~*~*

Ed knows it’s fucking idiotic, but he can’t help it. After his hand has scabbed over well, he gets Jack to tie one final strip of fabric around it. He starts wearing gloves, and underneath them, the fabric presses into his palm. When Ed is getting overwhelmed or stressed, he presses his hand firmly against the nearest surface and feels the knot dig into him. It almost always works. On the few occasions where even that isn’t enough, Ed can always reach gently into his chest pocket and brush his fingers against the red silk blazing against his breastbone.

Ed and Jack have hooked a few more times since the first time. It’s been months, and it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes they’ll both be riding high after a raid or just drunk and fucking around when they get into port, and they fool around. Jack hasn’t really said anything about it, and Ed is genuinely so thankful for it. He has no idea what he would even say if Jack tried.

He knows that Jack is his best friend, his fucking ride-or-die on the ship. That’s written in the bones that grew alongside Jack’s, in the handprint bisected by a strip of fabric. And he knows that he likes what they’re doing. It makes him happy, and he thinks that it makes Jack happy too.

There’s these two guys on the crew. They had their own little room in the ship and were always sitting next to each other and joking around and kissing and smiling at each other. Watching them together, they seemed so comfortable and happy in each other’s company. Matelots. He’d heard them use the word before. It’s-

Ed tries not to think about this stuff for too long. He gets all twisted up in his head about it.

*~*~*

Stede is home for the summer. There’s always this moment, when he first steps out of the carriage at the front of his house, that he thinks this time he can manage it. He can behave and talk with his father and be everything he’s supposed to be.

Just like every time before it, that thought lasts until the moment he first sees his father. Father doesn’t come out to greet him, but he sits as a sneering and disparaging monument during dinner that night. Stede eats as politely and quietly as he can. See, he thinks desperately, I can function in high society. I can behave. I am not an embarrassment. I am not a bad influence.

His father is silent for most of the meal, until the servants have brought out a tart for Stede and a glass of brandy for his father.

“I heard that you attended a celebration at the Belgrave estate last year,” his father begins.

Stede’s throat seals itself shut. He feels as though his father has just thrown a live snake onto the table and is calmly sitting back to judge however Stede reacts.

The Belgrave estate. James Belgrave. That had been more than a year ago now, but of course there was no escaping what had happened. Stede clears his throat, trying to dislodge the lump.

“Yes, father,” he says.

“I was speaking with the Trotmans the other day, you remember them, my old friend Sebastian. Do you know what he told me, Stede Bonnet?” He pauses here, letting the question linger until Stede realizes he’s expected to answer.

“No, father.”

“He told me that he had attended a party for one of his friend’s younger sons. And that he saw you there. Can you imagine my disbelief? And what do you think he had to say about you, Stede Bonnet?” The full name, always. The family name, always.

“I don’t know, father.”

“He told me that you spoke the whole time about flowers.” His father starts to laugh at this point, dabbing at his lips with a napkin and laughing heartily through it. Stede can see the rage behind his eyes. “All of these people gathered together to celebrate the birthday of a young boy, and in walks Stede Bonnet, talking about flowers and friendship and fluffy little animals.” His hand comes down to the table with force. The plates and utensils and Stede jump.

For a moment, there is utter silence in the room. Stede can’t meet his father’s eyes. The quiet is crawling under his skin, pushing him to say something, even though there’s nothing he can say to make this better. Finally, his father breaks the silence again.

“Get out of my sight,” he spits. Stede, without another word, gets up from the table and goes upstairs.

In his room, Stede can feel the tears coming on. He feels small and childish and why can’t he just handle this like a man? Walk it off or punch a wall or fucking fight back. Instead, he can feel the sobs crawling up his throat. He’s going to shake out of his skin.

Frantically, Stede grabs for one of the bags the servants left in his room. The perfect organization makes it easy to slip his hand inside and grab the whale paperweight out from its place amongst his clothes.

Still feeling like he’s not really in his own body, Stede lays on his newly-turned-down bed. He places the hefty paperweight on the center of his chest. Feels the cold of the gold slowly warming to match the temperature of his body. Feels the press of the whale into his breastbone. Pinning him down. Keeping him inside himself.

Stede falls asleep like that, still wearing the clothing he wore for dinner. He wakes up feeling scratchy and disoriented, but the whale is still balanced on his chest and he feels better than when he went to sleep.

When he went to sleep, after the fight with his father. Or, rather, after his father once again listed all of the ways that Stede will never manage to be the kind of man his father wants him to be. All the ways that Stede continues to be a disappointment.

He’s never going to measure up to his father’s expectations. That’s always been clear, but this is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Stede rests one hand on the whale and strokes along the water-grooves on its back.

He could just leave. He’s almost fourteen now. Stede could find a job or something. Go make a life for himself somewhere else.

The idea is intoxicating. Stede’s mind grabs onto it like a dog with a bone. For the next week, he does nothing but chew on it. Then, he’s in town with his father and walking down the main street. Stede sees a fine leather bag through the glass window of a store. It’s hardy and made of thick, dark brown sheepskin. There is one large sack-like part and about a thousand pockets in and around it. It looks like the kind of bag someone would have if they were preparing to go on an adventure.

That thought has been in Stede’s head for a week now. It starts with buying the bag. Over the next few weeks, he begins to stockpile things to bring with him. Some bandages and rubbing alcohol. Flintrock. Brown-paper-wrapped jerky. A small pouch of silver and gold coins. Needle and gut. Adventure-y things.

Obviously, he’s not going to run away. Where would he go? Stede knows that he wouldn’t be able to survive on his own, and he’s never been any good at winning people over to his side. He’s always known he was weak and pathetic, and that he wouldn’t last a day away from home.

Still. It’s nice to have the bag. Just to know that it’s there.

*~*~*

“Holy fuck, you have been holding out on me, Blackie,” Jack shouts, through a mouthful of coconut cake.

‘Blackie’ is a new thing. Ed’s peach fuzz from a year ago has started to solidify into proper facial hair. Ed likes the way that it makes him look, the way that it lines his jaw, the way that it makes him look grown up and dangerous. He’s been letting it grow out as long as it likes and, even though it’s patchy here and there, Ed’s starting to get a proper beard. Jack is horribly jealous, because he’s still baby-faced and fluffy. Still, he’s started calling Ed Blackie, and it makes him feel warm all the way through.

The coconut cake is something Ed woke up with. It’s his seventeenth birthday and the second birthday since he promised Jack he would share soulmate food with him. Last year, Ed had taken the night shift just to make sure that he and Jack would be on different schedules. When he woke up at midday, there was a strawberry pastry in his hammock with him. Ed sat alone in the creaking bunk room and savored every bite of his dessert.

There had been other food, at times, and Ed had shared it with Jack. His birthday, though, was different. His soulmate remembered his birthday every year (or, at least, the soulbond did), and sent something sweet and delicious just for him. It was his. Last year, the thought of sharing that with Jack had made the beast snarl and pace tight circles in Ed’s chest.

Now, though. He doesn’t know. Jack’s been his best friend for years. They have each other’s back. They still have sex every now and again, and sometimes Jack will climb into Ed’s hammock to sleep at night. It’s almost impossible to fit two men in a hammock together, but they shift and bump each other and groan and laugh and make it happen anyway. It’s. They spend a lot of time together.

So, this year, Ed didn’t volunteer for the night shift. When he woke up to find an enormous slice of coconut cake in his hands, the frosting melting against his fingertips, he kicked over at Jack’s hammock and broke off half of it to share.

“I mean, how is this supposed to be fair, man?” Ed’s been silent for too long, and Jack’s always hated the quiet. He nudges his shoulder into Ed’s side, trying to bring him back into conversation. “I just get a pretty fucking picture on my back and you get free dessert whenever you want?”

“It’s not always dessert,” Ed corrects.

“Oh, right, sorry. Dessert and fucking books and clothes and a whole fucking mansion. You’ve got a fucking general store for a soulmate. Always just giving you anything you want.”

“No, man,” Ed said, trying to keep his voice casual and not sound like he was invested in correcting Jack. “It’s random. The first thing I got was just a piece of fabric.” He can feel it, soft against his skin in his chest pocket. Ed reaches in and draws the red silk out, feeling the slippery, body-warm liquid of it. “See?”

Quicker than Ed can track, Jack snatches the silk from between his fingers. He’s holding it up to the lantern light as if he’s trying to read something through it. Jack’s hands are cracked and rough and muddy. He’s gripping the silk tightly and carelessly. Now that Ed’s looking, he notices a few blisters along the side of Jack’s thumb that have burst and scabbed over. There’s a fishing hook caught in his stomach, pulling him forward. The beast howls, angrier than it’s been in years.

“Just a piece of fabric?” He laughs. “Okay, tou-fucking-che, Blackie. I guess you gotta push through the duds to get to the gold, eh?” And he transfers the silk to one hand. With his right hand, Jack grabs another piece of his cake and starts to bite off a large portion. His left hand holds the silk for a second longer before releasing it. Ed watches, transfixed, as the mercurial handkerchief twists and tumbles to the grimy floor of the bunkroom.

The frantic, animal part of him screams to pick it up immediately. To hide it away and never let Jack or anyone else see it ever again. The logical part of him is yelling too. He knows better than to show such a clear weakness to anyone on this fucking ship. Even Jack.

Ed’s never been the type to listen to his logical side.

Even while part of him is fighting it, Ed lunges forward and swipes the silk off the floor. Without making eye contact with Jack, he presses it back into his breast pocket, feeling the now-cool fabric smooth against his skin. Jack chokes on a laugh, spraying some of his cake.

“Fuck, dude, chill out. It’s just a piece of fabric. What’s so special about your fancy red handkerchief? Is it your very special present from your soulmate?” He drags out the words, sing-song and mocking. “Fuck off, man. Or is it just your jerk-off cloth? Probably feels nice, being so soft. Maybe you could lend it to me sometime.”

Jack laughs again, and Ed is twisted up inside himself. He doesn’t have any words. Instead, Ed shoves himself to his feet, leaving the hammock swinging wildly, and stomps toward the door out of the bunkroom.

“Aww, don’t be such a pussy, Blackie! It was just a joke man, fuck, stop being so sensitive.”

*~*~*

Stede makes it through the summer, like he always does. He knows he’s not going to run away, but he keeps the bag in the bottom of his closet. Whenever he and his father go into town, Stede will find some new trinket or bauble or tool that would be the perfect addition to a survival pack. He purchases them and squirrels them away.

If pressed, he wouldn’t be able to explain why it feels so important to do this.

When the lazy heat of summer slowly fades into crisp and windy autumn days, Stede packs up his clothes and his books, his journals and his pens. He waffles for a while over whether or not to bring the escape pack, but the thought of heading back to his dormitory without it sends him scrambling to add it to the pile.

Stede returns to boarding school in early September with his head held high and his entourage of bags at his side. He is fourteen years old. At this point, he’s been going to school with the same group of boys since he was nine. While they never stop playing pranks on him, and Stede never really stops crying himself to sleep, things have calmed down. They’ve all known each other for too long. Stede totes his things to his new dorm room, only sharing it with one other boy now that he’s an upperclassman, and it’s fine. The boys still tease and laugh when Stede speaks up, but he spends most of his time quiet and reading, and it’s fine.

It’s the first time Stede has really felt like he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder as often. The boys at school are all starting to get serious about studying and society and the girls’ finishing school a few miles away. There’s a script, and it’s predictable. Stede stays quiet and out of the way and, as long as he avoids drawing attention to himself, it’s like he’s not even there.

There are hundreds of books and there’s studying to be done and society to partake of.

The letter arrives in mid-November. During breakfast, the groundskeeper walks through the different round tables and hands out the dozen or so letters that have arrived since the day before. Stede takes the heavy, wax-sealed cardstock with surprise.

Who would be-

It’s his father’s name on the return address, and his family crest on the seal.

Stede, he reads.

I am writing you from your uncle’s home in Speightstown. He and I have discussed our plans for your future and the future of our family’s estate. You are fourteen now, and beginning to build the relationships you will need for the rest of your life.

Your uncle tells me of a family in Speightstown that has a daughter. She has recently debuted in society and I was able to meet and speak with her at a recent luncheon. This young woman, Ms. Mary Allamby, seems a sensible and conscientious sort. I have begun conversation with her family and they are amenable to a union.

Naturally, we will wait another few years before moving forward with any official ceremonies. In the meantime, I expect you to continue your studies. Keep in mind that your actions now reflect on both the Bonnet and Allamby names.

Your father,

Major Edward Bonnet

Stede comes back to himself several minutes later. He is still sitting at his lone table near the back wall of the dining hall. The letter is a hot coal in his hand. He wants to drop it on the table and run from it, but if he does that, it will almost assuredly draw the attention of the other boys.

For a moment, he considers it. They would laugh, and mock him, and read the letter out loud for the whole hall to hear. Baby Bonnet? Married? That can’t possibly be right. Not Baby Bonnet.

He considers it. He needs the reassurance that he is not the only one thinking these things. Stede Bonnet? Married? That can’t possibly be right.

But it is. There it is, in clear writing, spelled out on damning cardstock and sealed with the family crest.

He’s not sure why this is such a surprise. This is, after all, the way that things are done. He is the only son of landed gentry, and it is his job to pass along the family name and maintain the family reputation. That had always meant marriage and children and an estate home on the family land.

Stede remembers those silly romance novels he used to read, when he was younger and holed up in the corner of the library. The way the main characters were swept off their feet by a charming man who stumbled into their lives and changed everything. The charge of attraction, relentless banter. The soft, quiet moments of a gentle kiss shared in secret or a hand held beneath a table.

Ms. Mary Allamby. Sensible and conscientious. She sounds like a kind person, and she may just be wonderful. Stede isn’t sure why the thought of marriage alone is crushing him so thoroughly under its thumb.

For one, final moment, Stede feels as though he can’t take a deep breath. He glances down at the letter. Your actions now reflect on both the Bonnet and Allamby names. Stede takes a breath, forces it deep into his lungs. He takes the panic and the squirming wrongness and he packs it carefully away into a box in the back of his mind.

He folds the letter and tucks it into his bag, alongside the books he will need for his classes later today.

Your actions now reflect on both the Bonnet and Allamby names.

Stede picks up his fork, and calmly finishes his breakfast.

Inside his chest, he carefully cups a flame between two palms, and blows the candle out.

*~*~*

Ed is well and truly fucked.

He’s managed to drag himself out of the scorching heat of the sun-warmed sand and into the shade on the edge of a copse of trees, but that is only taking the edge off. The smell of blood is thick in the air. His side is throbbing and his arms are going numb from the constant pressure against the wound. There are flies buzzing around his head, landing on his nose, the corners of his eyes, the ragged edges of his injury.

It had all been so stupid. He should have known better. Hornigold had been a rotten old bastard for ages, but the man was an institution. There was no tearing him down or changing the game. When Jack and a couple of the others had started whispering about the old man getting weak, about the way he treated them all like garbage and never paid it back on the raids, Ed couldn’t help but listen.

There had been one or two quick and whispered conversations in the belly of the ship. Nothing concrete. No plans. Just a pact to keep a weather eye and to have each other’s back.

Ed’s still not sure where it all went wrong. That’s one of the worst parts of all this. He’s going to fucking die and he’s not even sure exactly why.

Earlier that morning, Hornigold had called Ed to his cabin to talk.

“I’ve heard tell that a mutiny’s brewin’. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would ‘ya?” And the old man had turned and pinned Ed in place with his gaze.

“No, Captain,” Ed had replied, quick as he could. “I haven’t heard anything about that.”

“Now, son, it’s funny you say that. Because I’ve got a few others on my crew telling me that there’s been some talk about my performance. They’ve been tellin’ me you’ve got quite a bit to say about my performance.” Ed felt his muscles lock up. Hornigold was a mountain of a man, and he took a single step forward, getting into Ed’s space and towering over him. Suddenly, Ed was eight years old again, lost for words and doing his best to keep out of notice. Hornigold’s voice was a whisper now. “That true, son? You got somethin to say about my performance? Why don’t you go ahead and let me know. We’re always lookin’ to improve on this ship.”

Ed worked his throat, but it was bone-dry, and the words wouldn’t come.

“For example,” Hornigold drawled, “when someone on my crew turns out to be a traitorous dog,” he unsheathed his knife, “I put them down.” And the knife sunk home deep in Ed’s left side.

It took a moment for the pain to hit. When Ed tried to collapse to the ground, Hornigold caught him around the shoulders. Ed, senseless with the tearing, ripping pain in his abdomen, could hardly focus on the path out to the deck.

“I can hardly trust garbage to know how to take itself out,” Hornigold yelled. Ed could see several of his crewmates from the last few years turning to look. Some of them looked surprised. Some of them looked grim and resolved.

Jack.

Hornigold shoved Ed over the side of the ship just as Ed locked eyes with Jack. As he was tumbling down to the water, all he could see was the rueful grimace on Jack’s face.

It’s still all he can see. The tree bark is scratchy against his back and his eyes keep drifting closed without his consent. That final expression seems like it’s painted on the backs of his eyelids. Jack had looked a little bit guilty and a little bit resolved.

That’s not. He wouldn’t. They had been. Jack had. Ed would never.

No.

Jack wouldn’t, and it’s stupid to even think about it. Especially while Ed is bleeding out against a tree, taking his last breaths.

He feels his brain giving up its hold on consciousness. It’s in one of these moments, when Ed is drifting in the grayed-out delirium of pain-sleep that he feels a slap across his face.

“Blackie, man, come on. You better wake the fuck up.” It’s Jack, crouched in the sand and sitting on his heels so that he’s at about eye level with Ed’s slumped pose against the tree. There’s a bag in his hands. Ed can hardly see him. He can feel his eyes slipping out of focus.

“Ed, stop that. You’re not gonna fucking die out here in the middle of nowhere because of one fucking stab wound.”

Jack opens the bag and pulls out a waterskin. When he holds it to Ed’s mouth, the water flows cool and crisp. It jars Ed a little bit back into his head and he starts to wonder how much of the delirium was blood loss and how much was heatstroke. Did it matter?

Apparently it matters to Jack, because he’s reaching into the bag again and pulling out a brown glass bottle with a neat little label on it. Jack pulls the cork, sniffs the contents once, and then douses Ed’s stab wound in the stuff. Immediately, his side flares with the crawling-burn of alcohol on a wound. Ed traps a yell behind his teeth. When the pain fades again, Jack has already started to thread a needle to stitch the wound closed.

Just as he’s about to start, Ed hears a gun fire a ways down the beach. Jack turns at the sound and curses under his breath.

“Sorry, Blackie. Captain says if he hears of anyone trying to help you or talking about mutiny, he’ll keelhaul the poor bastard. I gotta go.” Jack pushes himself up to his feet and starts to stride down the beach.

Ed makes a noise, something far from words. Jack turns back around, looking a little jumpy and maybe a little worried.

Kiss me, Ed thinks, one last time.

“Your bag,” he says, “don’t forget it.” There’s a weird moment, where Jack almost looks confused by the statement before he looks down at the bag on the beach. Then, he smiles.

“Nah, man. Keep it, and never say I never did anything for you, Blackie.”

Jack walks off down the beach. Ed watches him for a few minutes, the beast in his chest howling mournfully. But, there’s a stab wound to deal with. Ed grabs the leather strap of the bag and tucks it between his teeth before picking the needle and thread up from the sand and arduously beginning the process of stitching his wound closed.

The bag is full of so many things. There’s cotton gauze and fabric wraps, but there’s also flint, a small pouch of coins, dried meat and fruits. Ed has managed to tend to his injury as best as he can, and he takes the time to look over this strange bag. He’s never seen Jack with it before, but he also didn’t really make a habit of snooping through Jack’s things.

The bag itself is a dark, brown leather, with one main pocket and a thousand smaller pouches throughout. Ed may have been bleeding out a few minutes ago, but he’s getting better now and he takes some time to poke through all the pockets, strangely charmed by the little trinkets Jack must have been collecting. There’s a pocket with several pretty rocks in it. One pocket has a small booklet full of words Ed can’t read and delicate illustrations of wildflowers.

It’s better than a final kiss on the beach. It’s a peek into what Jack’s like inside. One final piece of Jack that Ed gets to pore over. Some strange and soft and sensitive part of Jack that Ed had suspected was there but never really got to see.

There’s even one little pocket full of strips of fabric that look like they were torn directly from the hems of some of Ed’s shirts.

He had known Jack was using some of them.

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Uncle Jimmy

Jimmy Conway x Reader

TW: smut!, light alcohol drinking, Daddy kink, age gap

Word count: 3.2k

"Fuck!" you shout as Tommy sends drink glasses flying, all for the punchline of another one is his jokes. You're at the bar in the restaurant you hung out in every week with all your favorite wise guys; you and your crime family practically own the joint at this point.

As you're using a napkin to dry up some of the champagne that had gotten on your cute black bodycon dress, when you suddenly feel a tall presence behind you, "Watch your mouth, young lady. Good girls don't curse."

Jimmy.

You look at him nonchalantly over your shoulder, "You know I'm 21 now, just like Tommy and Henry, you don't have to take care of me any more..." In fact, Jimmy is well aware that you're 21 now, and it isn't lost on you how all over you he's been.

His hands slide over your sides, pulling you close to him, as he whispers in your ear, "I know you're a grown woman now, but Uncle Jimmy still wants to care of his girl..." He'd never done anything like this before, and it sent shivers down your spine right to your center. Your eyes widen in shock, both at his comment and how your body responded to it.

You quickly push his hands off of you, turning around to face him, "Order me a drink then, if you wanna take care of me so bad." It came out of your mouth before you could even think, and you weren't completely sure what you meant by it, but Jimmy hails the bartender and places an order for something he knows you'd like: the first drink you ever had, a Cherrys Sour.

Back when you were still in high school, Jimmy made it for you one night when you were staying with him, saying how he wanted to "be there for your first drink, your first REAL drink, because I'm the uncle that'll let you get away with it."

When the bartender drops your drink off, Jimmy picks it up and holds it a few inches from your face. He plucks the cherry off the rim, and although he's tempted to steal it, he places it gently against your lips, appreciating the way the bright red fruit looks against your pouty bottom lip and the way your tongue flicks out to pull it into your mouth and popping it off its stem.

After that, he couldn't help himself. He places a hand on your cheek and the glass to your lips, making you take a sip of your drink. You close your eyes, nose wrinkling a bit as the liquid coats your taste buds.

"Just like the first time..." Jimmy reminisces, "How's that for being taken care of, darlin'?" You slip the drink out of Jimmy's hand and simply give him a look, trying to be pouty, but the man could tell you liked it.

Jimmy ordered himself the same drink; he just loves cherries, and he leaves you for a little while to go greet a few people, including your dad...

But he isn't gone for long, before he saunters up behind you again, setting his empty glass and placing his hands on the bar on either side of you, trapping you in.

"Jimmy..." you whine, looking down at the bar, but he can't see the smile on your face.

"(Y/N)..." he mimics you. He gently and slowly touches his chest to your back, and combs your hair away from your neck, placing a few soft kisses there.

"Jimmy," you breath heavily, "my dad is here..."

"Well then we better get out of here before he sees us," he leaves a little kiss on the shell of your ear, as he presses the beginnings of his arousal against your backside.

"Ooo-ooooh!!! Looks like Uncle Jimmy noticed our little (Y/N) is all grown up!" Henry hollers down the bar.

"Maybe he wants to be her Daddy Jimmy now! God knows he's old enough to be!" Tommy cuts in.

The place is filled with laughter, and simultaneously, you and Jimmy cut looks that could kill at Tommy and Henry. Jimmy makes a move to storm over to them but you grab his hand, holding him back. "You're just jealous Uncle Jimmy never loved you as much as he loves me," you throw over your shoulder as you drag Jimmy out of the restaurant, laughing as soon as the cool night air hits your faces.

Through his laughter, Jimmy unlocks the passenger door of his car, pushing you in and sliding in after you. With you at the wheel, he cranks up the car and says, "Why don't you take us somewhere, baby girl?"

Things go quiet for a moment, then a big smile spreads across your face. You don't get to drive much, and he knows how much you love to.

"You aren't drunk or anything, are you?" he whispers, always checking on you.

"No, I just had the one drink you got me," you answer.

"Good good, you know I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you," he kisses your cheek and pats your thigh, indicating that you should drive now.

You weren't sure where to go, so you just drove to this little park that took up just a block. There are some swings and a jungle gym, but also some trees and grass and benches. You didn't know what Jimmy would think but you thought it might be romantic.

He chuckles as you stop the car, "You want Uncle Jimmy to take you to the park?"

"Hmmm, I think you meant 'Daddy'" you say, mocking Tommy.

He lets out a little grunt and places a hand on your cheek, wiping his thumb across your bottom lip, "Watch your mouth, I'm warning you..."

"But... That's not even a curse word," you say, but then it clicks in your head. You decide to store that information away for later, and you both get out the car.

You quickly discover the fence to the park is locked, but that kind of thing never stopped you and Jimmy before. You slip off your heels, handing them to the man next to you, and start climbing the fence.

"Hey! Be careful!!" He shouts, but you were already over the other side before he could stop you... and he wasn't really sure how you climbed the fence in a dress that tight.

He takes your shoes over to the car, tossing them in the back seat and pulling out a blanket, probably there so he could wrap a body if he needed to, but he figured you could use it to sit on the grass.

He throws it over the fence to you before fumbling over the thing himself; he was much more graceful about it when he had a cop after him.

Inside the park, you stroll around for a while, getting used to Jimmy being all sweet on you like this. You liked it, but he had always been your Uncle Jimmy, so it's a little weird at first.

You walk over to the swings, plopping down in one. Jimmy stands behind you, gently pushing and pulling the chains back and forth. You look back at him and you both share a giggle as he starts pushing you harder, really getting the swing to go. Your giggles grow into hysterical laughter as you fly through the air.

Jimmy leaves you to your own devices to swing as long as you'd like, while he sits on the swing next to yours and pulls out a cigarette, smiling from ear to ear as he watches you.

As your swing slows down, you pluck the cigarette from his fingers, taking a drag on it. He quickly gets it back, saying, "Hey! That's not good for you, baby," in a serious tone.

"It's not good for you either..." you say as your swing comes to a halt.

"Yeah, well. Do as I say, not as I do." Jimmy says, pulling your swing over to his. There's a pause for a moment before he changes the subject, "I'm gonna kiss you now. Are you gonna let me?"

"Why don't you try it and see?" you tease him.

With that, he pulls you off of your swing and onto his lap, holding your waist as his lips meet yours in an open mouthed kiss that can only be described as electric. Jimmy didn't do anything half-assed, especially kissing you. One of his hands tangles in your hair, and you hold his cheeks in your hands as you make out.

He sucks his bottom lip into your mouth, giving it a delightful little nibble that makes you squirm. Your hands move to squeeze at his sides while you desperately kiss one another, both realizing you'd wanted each other much longer than you thought. His hands grab your hips and lift you up so he can stand and wrap your legs around his waist; his lips never leaving yours. He walks a few steps over to the grass and sinks to his knees, laying you down in the damp but soft grass. He grips at your thigh, hard; it'll probably leave little bruises where his fingertips are.

You let out a little whine and he realizes he's hurting you, "I'm sorry, honey."

"It's okay..." you breathe out, "Daddy..."

You watch as he gets a lust blown look in his eyes from your use of that word, and his lips slam back into yours. He starts grinding his hardness against you, "Say it again," he mumbles through attacking your lips.

"Mmm!" you push him of you a little, making him stop and look in your eyes, "Daddy."

His eyes are practically begging you, for what you aren't sure, but he lowers his head and softly kisses at your decolletage. Your fingers grace over his head, threatening to mess up his gelled hair. As his lips give attention to the top of your breasts, Jimmy's voice pipes up, "(Y/N)," his eyes look up at you, "Let me make love to you."

"Jimmy..."

His hand creeps up, intertwining your fingers with his and pinning your hand to the ground. His face meets yours with another fiery kiss.

"Jimmy," you moan against his lips, "What if we get caught?"

"Well, it could be kind of exciting if we get caught," he presses a kiss to your earlobe.

"I mean, by the cops... What if we get in trouble?"

"Listen to yourself, princess, when did you ever care about getting in trouble? Besides, fuck the cops," Jimmy argues still kissing at your neck, and he does have a point.

You push Jimmy up and he sits back on his knees. You get up and sit in front of Jimmy, except you turn your back to him, then you brush your hair to one side to the front side of your shoulder.

"Okay," you say.

"Hm?" Jimmy asks.

"James Conway, unzip my dress right now, or I swear to God, you won't get another chance to for the rest of your life!"

Zip! You feel your dress loosen immediately. His hands roam your back as he scoots closer to you. His fingertips glide over your silky smooth skin while sliding the little dress straps off your shoulders.

"When a pretty lady like you talks, I listen," his voice is lower than it was before.

You chuckle and lean back into him as the top part of your dress falls around your waist and Jimmy's hands explore your bra. You hear his breathing get a little heavier just from looking at you without a top on.

You turn around and start to lay back down on the grass. "Wait-" Jimmy starts, "Let me go grab that blanket."

"You afraid of getting a little dirty, Daddy?" you say in your sexiest voice. It's funny how you can visually see Jimmy short circuit a for minute every time you call him that. He snaps back to reality and jumps up, "I'll be right back!"

He quickly returns to lay the blanket on the ground for you, before grabbing you and gently laying you down with it. You slide your dress off your legs, and Jimmy can hardly think straight seeing you in your lacy black underwear.

"Are you just gonna stand there, big man? A little girl like me got your wires all crossed?" you joke at him.

Jimmy simply responds by taking off his jacket and tie, and getting on his knees between your legs again. You sit up and unbutton his shirt, quickly discarding it and finally feeling the warm skin of his torso. You look up and give him a teasing look before unlatching his belt, sloooowly. He's completely breathless at the way you've taken charge of the situation; you'd always been a little girl in his eyes.

Almost as if you'd been reading his mind, you say, "If I'm gonna call you Daddy, you better start acting like one, hm?" You raise your eyebrows at the last part as if you were expecting something of him.

He exhales and crawls on top of you, "You're so right... God damn it, you just look so good!" He roughly kisses you and pins your wrists down to the ground above your head, "But now I'm gonna make you mine."

You're left gasping as Jimmy moved to your neck, leaving his mark on you. Everyone would know he had had you when they see those hickies on your neck, and that thought- that thought drove Jimmy wild.

He releases your hands as he works his way down your body with his kisses and sucks on every inch of your skin. He pops back up on his knees and works his pants off, and he looks around to make sure no one is walking by around the park. "Want me to lose these, baby doll?" he asks, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs.

"You know I do," you giggle at him.

He groans happily, "You sure you're ready to see your Uncle Jimmy naked?"

You sit up and stroke his hard length as it strains against the fabric, "I thought you were my Daddy now... You must not want me to call you that if you keep forgetting..." You pretend to pout at him.

He takes you by surprise, grabbing your throat and shaking you a bit, "Daddy didn't forget."

You give him an excited smile, and he removes his underwear, stroking himself for you. He grabs your legs and shoves them straight up in the air, giving your ass a solid smack before pulling your panties down.

"Oh, baby," he lays himself on top of you, rubbing his hardness against your clit, "You look beautiful, and you're already so wet without me even touching you... You think you're ready to take me?"

You nod your head, "Mhmm."

"Say it," he demands.

"Say what?"

"You know what I want, princess. Now, say it."

You look up at him with doe eyes, appreciating his muscles as he towers over you, "I want you, Daddy... Take me please, Daddy, I'm ready!"

"Mmmm, God, baby girl, you beg so good," he praises as he presses the head of his cock into you.

You let out a soft, breathy groan as you feel him fill you up. The noises Jimmy makes as he starts to move in you--it's as if he feels relief mixed with absolute pleasure. He moves slowly at first, rocking his whole body gently back and forth, as he kisses the side of your face.

Your little breaths mixed with moans and gasps only turns Jimmy on further; he wants to make you make more of those noises. He shifts his weight onto one elbow, and with his free hand, grabs your hand to bring it to his face. He stares deeply into your eyes as he kisses your knuckles.

Jimmy enjoys your fingers playing with his hair, and he really enjoys it when you give it a harsh tug as he hits a sweet spot inside you. You inhale sharply, "Daddy!!!"

"Yeah, baby? Is that the spot?"

"Uh-huhhh," you whine loudly. You reach down to play with yourself, but your hand is met with a sudden slap.

"No. That's Daddy's job." Jimmy quickly replaces your hand with his, rubbing circles on your clit. His hip movements speed up, and he only takes his hand off of you to pull your bra down off your shoulders before forcefully ripping it and throwing it aside. As his hand returns to your clit, his mouth explores your breasts, sucking on your nipples and leaving more love bites.

How he could do three things at once is beyond you, but it is leading you to your orgasm. When you reach your end, Jimmy shoves two fingers deep in your mouth, muffling the loud noises you would've made. He wouldn't want anyone to hear after all...

Wasting no time, he sits up and pulls your legs up again, hooking them on his shoulders as he fucks into your as fast as he can. You still hadn't fully come down from your orgasm, so your legs shake violently as he slams your g-spot.

"(Y/N)..." Jimmy says weakly, eyes closed tightly in pleasure. He's close.

"Cum for me, Daddy."

"Fuck!" he groans as his hips grow erratic.

"Daddyyy... Cum for me," you beg.

You can hardly finish your sentence before he pulls out, stroking himself as his seed spurts in ribbons across your belly, yet again marking you as belonging to him. His breathing comes out in the form of needy moans as he finishes.

He takes a moment to collect himself as he shakes his member, making sure he got every drop onto you. "You look good with Daddy's cum on you," he pants, grabbing the blanket to wipe it off before it gets sticky in the cool night breeze, "You're 𝘮𝘺 girl now. All mine." He lays next to you, pulling you into him for cuddles.

"Yes sir, Daddy," you look up, rubbing your hands on his chest.

"Good girl; you're such a good girl," he whispers the next part, "and you mean so much to me." He gives a series of soft, sweet kisses.

"Hey! What do you two think you're doing?!" You hear someone shout from outside the park fence. A cop.

Jimmy pops his head up and scopes the guy out, "Fred?" One of the cops Jimmy pays off.

"Jimmy? Is that you?"

"Yeah, what are you doing working nights?"

"Oh, uh, my wife and I have a baby on the way and the force doesn't pay that well. I picked up more hours. But you two go on with whatever you're doing, I didn't see a thing, Mr. Conway," the cop saunters off, leaving your alone.

"That's the other reason I wasn't worried about the cops," Jimmy chuckles to you.

After that, you found yourself in Jimmy's bed as often as possible, and that cop found himself at home with his wife more often, having a much needed pay raise.

[tydur]

┤𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒔/𝒐├

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠⸕

«𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕚 𝕤𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕞𝕦𝕣𝕒»

«𝕋𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕞𝕒 𝕜𝕖𝕚»

«𝔸𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕪𝕒»

𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙖 ♘

ok he is a HARD daddy dom don't @ me <33

so we all know how he keeps his cool in situations

so he’d let u have ur fun :)))

but on the inside he’s plotting all the ways he can punish you for being a little brat </3

definitely tries to do a lil brat taming in public to get ur ass to chill

he would subtly grip your thigh tightly, a warning sign to get your act under control

then he would whisper into your ear; calmly asking you to knock it off

and you KNOW just how bad his punishments can get, so he expects you to stop acting out; then when you guys would get home he wouldn’t have to go so hard on his poor, innocent little baby :(((

but when that doesn’t work--

he’d pull out the big guns

he would leave wherever you two were, making up some pathetic excuse as to why he had to get a rain check

the whole way back, his jaw would be clenched and his grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles were white

getting home, as soon as you were inside w the door closed, he starting stripping you

his glare was hard as he placed you on the counter of your island and spread your legs

the feeling of the could air hitting your drenched pussy made u whine :(((

he pressed a hard slap onto your cunt, the sting making your eyes weld up w tears

“you’re such a fucking brat. daddy warned you to stop while you still could, then your punishment wouldn’t be too bad. but no, the little whore had to keep it going. i’m going to fuck this disgusting little cunny until you’re begging me to stop because its just too much. too much of daddy’s cum stuffed into your cunt, too overstimulated to not just cum from a slight graze to your clit, too fucked out; reduced to a stupid cumslut. let’s start.”

lets just say it was a long night <3333

𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙖 𝙠𝙚𝙞 ♗

im- this mans has no patience to begin w LMAOAO

do u RLLY think he’s gonna let u get away w anything??

no ❤️

he would stop u before u even had the CHANCE

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

u went OOP

.. chile anyways so

sigh before u could even do what u were gonna do ur being dragged to locker room and pushed into the lockers w kei’s leg between urs

“so you wanna be a brat, huh? is my little slut needy for me?”

whimpering, you nodded, “I need you, kei. I want your cock in my cunny-- please.”

the begging was music to his ears, the smirk on his face growing bigger as he ground his thigh up into your soaking panties

his hand found it’s way under your skirt

and the mothrfucker-

HE STEALS UR PANTIES

he pulled the panties down your legs and just as you thought you were about to get somewhere,,,

he pockets them and starts to walk to the exit of the locker room

“if you want your panties then stop acting like a fucking brat- i’ll give them back to you on the bus. and next time im keeping them.”

𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙮𝙖 ♔

sigh ur not getting anywhere w this one chief 

he will nOt hesitate to take u right there and then

do not try him <3

it’ll start w a warning glare sent ur way

then he’s whispering in your ear that he’ll fuck you right over the table in front of everyone

when u dont comply to that, he’ll just give up on stopping u

watching as u continue to tease him, as if not a care was in the world

atsumu was literally blowing up on the inside nfbhnefnhgv

PLS he would force u onto his lap and stick his hand up your skirt and start fingering u like it was nobody’s business

which it wasn't

the humiliation? he gets off on it.

the way you cry into his neck, tears wetting his skin as you clenched around his fingers at his degrading words that were being whispered into your ear

he didn’t care if his teammates were watching,, at least now they knew for sure who u belonged to

when you finally cum, u let out a loud squeal as u grind yourself down onto his fingers

he grins at how much of a needy slut u were for him <3

you’re so embarrassed, your cum dripping down his fingers as he sticks them into his mouth; the stares of his teammates making your skin feel hot

“what? you wanted to be a slut and act out, so I took you where everyone could see- as i said i would. maybe if you listened to daddy, we wouldn’t have this problem, baby” he presses a kiss to your cheek, glancing over to his teammates

he loves it all <33

[mmvalentine]

Five Minutes | Feysand

I got this request from an ao3 user who later clarified they would like a "wrong bed fic" and I honestly don't even know what that is?!!! But of course I will give it a go...

The Day Court had the most beautiful theatre. Where the artists' quarter in Velaris was a passionate, bohemian little community, the theatre company of the Day Court was a high art rooted in millennia of culture and esteem. Rhys and Feyre were ushered down an honest-to-goodness red carpet on their way in, and their private box somewhere near the soaring arched ceiling was upholstered in rich, ox-blood velvet. Every ten years an invite went to all the courts for the grand opening of the Day Court's newest opera, and the event was the social gathering of the decade. The grandeur and class of the night was unrivalled across Prythian. And yet Rhys could not stop staring at Feyre's ass in that dress.

After being married for ten years, he really thought the urge to bend her over the nearest table would have dimmed. But there they were, given in the best seats in the house, with a production ten years in the making on its way, and all Rhys could do was drag his gaze over the curves of his mate's hind quarters. She was talking to someone, he had no idea who in the mother it was, and he was trying to look like he was listening as well while he snaked his arm around her and stroked his fingers over her hip.

In his defence, Feyre had spent a large portion of the last decade running after Nyx and wearing comfortable clothes that didn't mind getting all manner of stains and spills on them. Not that she wasn't achingly sexy in tights and one of his old sweaters, in fact his clothes on her drove him wild. But it had been a little while since she had worn something that hugged her like this, cupped her breasts and clung to her waist, hips and thighs before pooling on the floor. It was obscene. How were they in public right now?

Watch your hands, Feyre warned in his mind. We have company.

I can't help it, Rhys responded silkily. I just want to peel this thing off of you. Or maybe tear it to shreds with my teeth.

Well you'll have to wait, Feyre shot back. Believe it or not, I actually want to see this play. And besides, this dress was made by Emerie, you couldn't tear it if you tried.

Rhys bared his teeth in her mind. Would you like me to try? he asked. He slid a midnight claw over her mind. She batted him away.

I said later, she said. Now behave.

At that moment, a silver bell rang out over the theater, and Helion's voice drifted through the air with an amplifying spell.

"Welcome, dearest guests," the High Lord said. "I am so pleased you all could make it. If you would like to take your seats, the show will begin in five minutes."

Feyre bade goodbye to the guest she was talking to- Rhys just gave a curt nod, not at all caring who they were- and slid her arm around Rhys' waist as they walked off to their box. As soon as the guest had turned, Rhys squeezed a handful of her backside. Feyre swatted his chest.

"What's going on with you?" she asked. "Nothing," Rhys said, his lips against her temple. He drew the curtain to their private box. "You look incredible tonight." "Well thank you," Feyre said. "You're not bad yourself." She kissed him, and made to sit down next to Rhys, but he pulled her into his lap instead. Cupped his hands over her rear and pulled her lips back to his.

"Let's take a little walk," he said into her mouth. His hands squeezed at her waist. "Rhys, we're at a show." "He said five minutes," Rhys argued, and licked his tongue up the side of her throat. Feyre shivered. "Five is not so long," she said. Rhys grinned against her neck. "Five is plenty," he said, and then winnowed.

Feyre found herself in a darkened bedroom, door closed and curtains drawn, and Rhys pressing her down onto cool sheets. "Where are we?" she whispered. "Mmm," Rhys murmured. "I don't know, it's been so long since I've been in Helion's house. I just remember there being a bed here."

He pushed the skirts of Feyre's dress up her legs, and put his mouth right on her core, over her underwear. Feyre gasped at the suddenness of it.

"On someone else's bed?" she asked. Rhys pulled her underwear to the side, and licked her all the way up to her clit. "They'll never know," he said, and then she heard the clink of his belt buckle as Rhys resumed his attentions. A minute later, his face was back up over hers, lips wet from being between her legs.

"Ten years," he mused. "And I still just want to spend hours licking your every scrap of skin." "Five minutes," Feyre reminded him, and he grinned. "I can make you come in five minutes," he said, and kissed her at the same time as sliding straight inside her.

Feyre moaned into Rhys' mouth, and Rhys pulled back. "Hush now, darling," he whispered. "We're in someone else's house." His eyes sparkled. "I am going to fuck you hard until you come, and you are not going to make a single sound. Do you understand?"

Feyre nodded, and Rhys caught up her lips again. Started rocking into her, and then matching the movements of his tongue to his hips. Feyre's heart beat strong beneath him, and he hooked one of her legs over his elbow to get a deeper angle. Feyre huffed out a breath, but stayed silent.

"Good girl," Rhys crooned, and licked his thumb before placing it over her clit. He moved faster now, and kept up a steady and pounding pace.

"Do you know," he said in her ear, "I have been absolutely out of my mind all day, watching you." He moved his lips to the hollow under her jaw. "You, and your incredible ass in this fucking dress." Rhys began pressing kisses down her throat, open-mouthed kisses, kisses that gave way to a bite and a suck. "And all I've wanted to do for hours is get you alone." And all the while, he kept up his relentless rhythm. Feyre's breathing was coming in shallow pants now, and she had her bottom lip clenched between her teeth to keep her from crying out.

"Is that good, Feyre darling?" he asked her. She just nodded. His thumb pushed down a little more on her clit. "I love watching you like this," he told her. Driving his hips home. "On you back for me. With me deep inside you, right where I'm supposed to be. Do you know how fucking good you look?" He stopped speaking then, bit off a groan and listed to the incessant squeak and protest of the bed creaking. Feyre's mouth was moving with silent sounds. He smiled down at her.

"Are you close honey? Do you want to come for me?" Feyre nodded again. "Almost. I'm going to count down from five, and you can come when I tell you to." Feyre's eyes burned in the dark.

"Five," Rhys murmured. He leaned back a little, changing the angle and getting deeper still. "Four." His thumb moved in tight circles over her clit. "Three," he said, and now his own breaths were coming ragged. "Two." He sped up, his hips now moving erratically. "One," he ground out, close to the edge now and loving the view of Feyre writhing in tortured silence. "Now," he commanded, and Feyre exploded around him at the same time as he came hard inside her, clamping down on his own moans as Feyre's nails scratched at his back.

Rhys fell to Feyre's side and tugged her body into hers. "Good girl," he breathed again, and kissed her until they were falling asleep and somewhere far away, an opening curtain was rising.

Four hours later, Helion opened his bedroom door to find the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court in his bed. They blinked at him when he flicked the light on.

"Well," he said, voice full of merry amusement. "Is it my birthday already?"

*****

This is a little rushed because it's almost 1am but it's also the first time I've been able to post all week and I hate that. So I'm sorry if it's a bit of a mess! I miss you guys when I get too busy x

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist

MASTERLIST

UPDATE: There's now a Part 2!!! By special request.

[gretavanbitch]

Tangled up in blue- 4

warnings- smut, drinking, swearing, smoking bla bla bla “get on with the song”

also- I made a playlist for this month, but I listen to it whenever I write so it is very ~fitting~. feel free to listen while you read. 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5qrT7vDp06VGboCCSaaC31

Note- hi babes, i hope you are enjoying this so far, sorry for the long wait! This week has been a haze of volleyball, AP work, and college apps. I will try to update soon again! 

prior- 

The scent of sweat and cigarette smoke pulled through the air of the small green room. Penny sat on a worn velvet couch, watching the boys prance around loudly, still feeling the high of the show. 

“Sam, did you see that one girl in the pit flash you?” Danny laughed, holding some concoction of hard liquor in his hand. 

“Yeah dude, I had to look twice to make sure I didn’t imagine it,” he laughed, “nice tits though.” Sam spoke loudly as he sat partially on the arm of a leather chair, taking a drag from his cigarette. Jake was somewhere outside of the room on the phone with his girlfriend. Josh was prancing around the room wildly singing some showtune, very in character. He seemed rather oblivious to Danny and Sam’s conversation, only adding his input when he found the topic interesting. Penny followed Josh with her eyes, laughing into her own drink. 

“Guys,” Jake said as he entered the room again, “let's get fucked up.” Everyone let out loud cheers to the twins' proposition. Josh himself, now clad in his usual white long sleeve and tan pants walked over to Penny, extending his hand to her. She took it and walked with the group towards the exit of the arena. They all decided to drink at a small bar a short walk away. 

She pulled the fabric of her tan coat closer to her chest as the night breeze nipped at her cheeks. Josh noticed her newfound chill immediately, he always notices. He quickly wrapped his arms around her arms, rubbing up and down lovingly. She giggled, leaning her head into the crook of his neck momentarily as they walked. The only sound on the streets around the venue were the clack of Jake’s Chelsea boots, her own boots, and patter of everyone's sneakers. 

They walked for about 25 minutes, talking about nothing in particular, smoking cigarettes as they walked. 

“You know those are bad for you,” Josh teased Penny, nudging her shoulder softly. 

“Tell that to Sam and Jake,” she huffed jokingly in return. Sam then turned around, a fake hurt expression on his face. 

“Yeah well at least I don’t smoke American spirits, those taste like garbage,” he scoffed.

“Alright pipe down over there Marlboro man,” Penny waved him off, blowing a pull directly in his face. In truth, she knew that her smoking habits would bite her in the ass one day, but amongst other things in her life, they were so addicting. Soon enough, the neon sign of an old dive bar appeared in front of the group. Penny quickly paused behind the group, wanting to capture a picture of their silhouettes and the neon lights. 

“Whatcha doin’ mama,” Josh paused his steps, waiting for the blonde. 

“Capturing the moment, don't move,” she said through tight lips as the shutter clicked. Josh paused for a moment, eyes darting down to the half smoked cig in her hand. 

“Shotgun me,” he said as he caught his lips in between his teeth. 

“You don’t smoke,” she responded, pushing the camera back in her bag. 

“Yeah I know, but it would be hot.” She then nodded her head and stepped closer to him. The rest of the group was now long ahead, entering the bar. The wind rustled his curls softly, making his eyes flutter closed. His lips were parted slightly, waiting in anticipation. She brought the cigarette to her lips slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. Her hand found the back of his head softly, his hands stayed at rest at his sides. With hazy eyes, she leaned into him. His lips ghosted over hers softly, inhaling as he did. At that moment, the cold breeze disappeared, and so did the bar. The only thing that existed was him, and his beauty.  He exhaled with a soft smile on his face. 

She then took his hand softly, crushing the cigarette under her boot and leading him towards the bar “Lets get drunk loverboy.”

The bar door opened with a creak, and the smell of liquor hit Penny’s nose, her hand still intertwined with Josh’s. Her eyes scanned the bar for a moment before landing on Jake’s head of hair next to Sam and Danny at the corner of the bar. The boys welcomed them with suspicious gazes, Josh only smirked teasingly at them while patting a seat next to Danny for Penny. The rest of the boys already had their choice of liquor in their hands. Josh ordered a salty dog, and he ordered Penny her favorite, Vodka Cranberry. 

“god you have the alcohol taste of a college kid,” Jake laughed as she sipped her drink. 

“Yeah i’m 22, so that adds up smartass,” she teased. Although Josh was older than her, it rarely crossed her mind. Whether it was her own maturity of his ability to be with her, age was rarely brought up. 

“Oh god Josh, we’re getting old, I can feel it in my bones,” Jake laughed. Josh then got up from his seat, pacing slowly in front of Penny. 

“Hey there sweet, come ere’ often,” Josh joked, hand on his back imitating an old man. 

The night then progressed into rounds of tequila shots and more drinks. There was a pleasant energy between the group, illuminated by the soft glow of the bar. They were by far the youngest group in there, other than some old men at the bar, and middle aged women in the booths with their spouses. 

Penny’s head was spinning slightly, eyes solely focused on Josh as he laughed with the band. He met her eyes continuously through the night, smiling at her softly every time he did. He now leaned down to her ear, whispering quietly. 

“wanna get out of here?” 

Penny nodded, downing the last of her fourth cocktail and grabbing her jacket. The pair walked hand in hand down the empty streets. There was a comfortable drunken silence between them as the cool breeze washed over them. 

“where do you see yourself in five years babe?” Josh inquired, breaking the silence. She bit her lip for a moment, pondering the question seriously. 

“I never really thought about it I guess,” she paused. “probably still where I am right now, blowing in the wind and following you.” He hummed in response, smiling up at the sky. 

“me too, whenever I picture it, you are always there,” he said. He then broke out into a run, dragging Penny along. His voice echoed the streets, singing Bob Dylan loudly. 

“But the answer my friend, is blowin in the wind, the answer is blowin in the wind.”

His voice filled her ears as she laughed along. Wind pushing her hair back, lungs burning with happiness. They ran until they reached the bus, panting and smiling at each other. Josh entered the Bus before her, flicking on various lights and tripping over shoes. 

She haphazardly tore her jacket and boots off as Josh flipped through his phone, playing soft music. “Give me love” by George Harrison soon filled her ears, one of her favorite songs. Her heart ached at the feeling of Josh playing her favorite music as she tugged the hem of his shirt down next to her in a seat. The area was slightly cramped, a little more than a foot of space between seats. He hummed along to the song, caressing her cheek softly. She licked her lips, melting into his eyes deeply. He then closed the gap, capturing her lips with her own. He tasted like liquor and she melted into the kiss sighing softly. Her hands traced under his shirt as he gripped her hips, pulling her on top of him. He captured her lip in his teeth, causing a moan to escape her throat. 

Give me love and I'll show love

She jutted her hips down, grinding down into him. He groaned in response, pulling back from the kiss momentarily to look her in the eyes. 

Baby, I'll be there all the time

Clothes were soon discarded to the floor. The room became sticky and hot. The only sounds were coming from Josh’s phone and sighs from the pair. 

Give me love and I'll show love

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, peppering kisses up his neck as he ran his hands over her breasts, toying with her nipples softly. He then let his hands trail down to her pelvis. He dipped a few fingers into her heat, eliciting a sweet moan from her. He groaned into her chest and muttered a ‘fuck you’re so wet’

Baby, I'll be there

she whined softly, pressing her forehead against his as he created a steady pace with his fingers inside her, curling them with every stroke. His thumb circled her clit and she felt her stomach heat up. Her breathing became erratic, looking into his eyes deeply. Sweat coated her forehead, her body shaking with every whine and moan. He then added a third finger into her, curling it steadily. The room became a mile away, arching her back off of him, and toes curling. Her eyes were closed, mouth hung agape. He slowed his pace, pulling his fingers out and licking them. 

Every time I'm down you're the one who comes to my mind

‘fuck baby’ she whined, blinking white spots out of her vision slowly. He then captured her lips again, this time more aggressively. Tongues and teeth clashing as his hands dug into her ass. ‘Josh,’ she spoke breathily, breaking the kiss. ‘what baby?’ he sighed kissing her neck sweetly, biting softly. ‘I need you in me’ 

Look to deep your love you're the one that I dream of

He lifted her slightly, allowing her to sink down into him. Once he was fully in her, he paused groaning. He pressed his forehead against hers relishing in the feeling of being inside of her. Soon enough, she began grinding down onto him, lifting her hips slightly with every stroke. Her hands scratched up his shoulders, sure to leave marks that he would smile at in the mirror tomorrow. After a few minutes, her pace became sloppy causing Josh to lift her hips himself allowing for him to go even deeper. ‘fuck Pen’ he moaned into her hair. She could only smile against him, feeling so full and content. 

Take me to your heart don't ever worry, we'll never be apart

He jutted his hips into her harshly, fingers digging deeply into her hips. Everything then uncoiled inside her for the second time of the night, causing her breathing to stop for a second. Josh followed suit only seconds later, breathing rapidly and moaning softly. They paused for a moment, relishing the feeling and catching their breath. She kissed him softly and sweetly now, smiling stupidly. 

“I love you,” she sighed. 

“I love you too,” he smiled, pulling her against his chest lovingly. “lets go to bed.”

She threw on one of Josh’s old t-shirts and boxers, climbing in next to him in the bunk. His arms wrapped around her, her head on his chest, listening to his breathing. His heartbeat lulled her softly to sleep, not even hearing the rest of the band enter the bus soon after. 

“god it smells like sex in here.” 

[toraashi]

hey, dorothea (ft. oikawa tooru)

warnings/info: swears, soft angst, oikawa x gn!reader part two here

listen while you read

♫ “Hey, Dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me?” ♫

Tooru,

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I was digging through my closet (packing, you know how it is), and I found that old banner from your volleyball team back in high-school. It reminded me of you, so I figured I'd write a brief letter. It's mind-blowing how much time has passed since then. It feels like just yesterday we were graduating, but it's really been almost four years. 

Remember when we used to hang out with the team after games? We'd go get ramen, and everyone would give you shit for that silly front you'd put up. Or when you took me to that local fair, and we watched the sunset from the top of the Ferris wheel? It was so cold, and I still feel bad for taking your jacket. My favorite memory is our trip to the observatory, do you remember that? It sounds silly looking back, but I was so flustered when you held my hand. We really were so young and naive, huh? Ah, those really were the days. I wonder how you're doing now. 

Hopefully, you're a little happier, I know you tried to hide it, but it was pretty obvious that you were struggling. The team and I tried to be supportive; I hope it helped at least a little bit. 

Last I heard, you were in Brazil. How is that? It's probably hot there, but I'd love to live somewhere that sunny. I'm sure you don't have much time to lounge around, though. You've always been a hard worker, and I'm sure you're working your ass off. I know it's been a while, but remember to take breaks, okay? 

I actually recently saw an ad on YouTube you were in; it's kind of crazy how popular you've gotten. I told you all your hard work would pay off, didn't I? I'm sure it's easy to get lost in all the promotional work, though.

I won't lie, I miss being able to cheer at all your games. Of course, I cheer from home, but I miss that cheeky smile you'd give me at Seijoh games. I wonder if you miss those days too. Just remember, if you ever need a friend or a reminder of the good old days, I'll always be here. I'm always here for you, Tooru, no matter what.

That's about it. I hope you're doing good. You should visit sometime, everyone here misses you.

I miss you

Love, 

Y/N

Pondering the impact of your last sentence, you decided to scratch it out. It had been years since you and Oikawa had dated, and it could come off wrong. Despite that, they'd been the best years of your life, and you thought about him more often than you liked to admit. 

A fond smile crossed your lips at the memories, and with a delicate touch, you folded the lined sheet, slipping it into a cream envelope and dragging your tongue across the adhesive. A bitter taste left in your mouth, you smoothed a stamp over the paper, scribbling your name and address in the corner followed by the recipient's in the middle, provided by Iwaizumi. 

The November air nipped at your nose as you hurriedly slid the letter in the mailbox, the cool metal stinging your fingertips. 

There was a chance he would never read this letter. There was a chance he'd read it and not give it a second glance, but you liked to believe he would trace over each penstroke with his dark eyes, memorizing the words and ingraining them into his mind. You prayed he would touch the dips in the paper left by your pen and think of home, of you. Your lips curled up tenderly at the thought before you scurried back into your home, the Christmas tree nestled in the corner glowing warmly in the dark. 

end note: i have a second part planned for this, so i’ll post that within the next week. Another part of Seating Arrangements is also scheduled for the near future. Hopefully you enjoyed this :)

Masterlists

Request Here

[gideongrace]

7. "I just don't. Want to! Why is that so hard to understand?" + 40. "You might as well just walk around with a sign around your neck saying 'perpetual asshole' on it." 💜💜💜💜

Today is Steve's first day back at work since the accident and it's also Billy's day off so he's had nothing to do but sit and worry and think everything to death since Steve left this morning. 

He's been texting back and forth with Steve since then, trying to keep it light, keep it easy all while also texting Max and snapping at every single thing she says. Because no amount of time nor effort nor therapy could ever truly make him not the kind of asshole who handles stress real poorly. But. At least he isn't snapping at Steve. At least there's that.

//

Today is Steve's first day back at work and it's… good. It's great. It's… fine. Really. 

Okay, he's miserable. His feet hurt after only having been on them for three hours because after having been reduced to basically lying on his ass on the couch for months, his stamina is garbage and his arm is sore and his everything else aches seemingly just because the rest of his body parts didn't want to miss out on the party his feet and his arm are apparently having and…

It sucks. 

The only thing keeping him going is texting Billy, even if Billy is pretending to be cool about everything rather than be honest and admit how stressed out he is about this. Steve expects to head to Billy's apartment at the end of the day and find that he's punched a hole into the wall. He's got 'nearest hardware stores' pulled up as a google search tab in the browser on his phone, just in case.

"Oh no, by all means, go ahead, laugh at my misery."

Steve's head snaps up as Dustin comes stomping into the kitchen followed closely by Robin and rather than pay attention to what Dustin just said, Robin is on Steve in an instant, dragging the tall, ugly stool over from the far side of the kitchen for Steve to sit on because she can tell just by looking at him, can tell just from the way he'd been leaning against the wall that he's exhausted just by standing. 

He sits down in the proffered chair without complaint and Dustin continues on with his rant like he'd never been interrupted in the first place. "Like. I just don't. Want to! Why is that so hard to understand?"

Steve looks at Dustin, then at Robin, who shrugs uselessly, before looking back to Dustin. "I take it your date didn't go very well?" 

Dustin huffs out a breath in the most dramatic, most Dustin way possible. "No, it did not."

Robin giggles and shoves her hand in front of her face before muttering, almost unintelligibly, "Tell him what happened." 

Dustin's face crumples up so hard it begins to resemble a crushed soda can more than it does a face, but he says, "He showed me a naked picture of himself in the middle of the date as a way to, I think, proposition me for sex." 

Steve feels his eyes try to separate themselves from his skull. He has no idea what to say to that so he just winds up gaping at Dustin blankly and fighting his eyeballs and their unrelenting urge to flee.

"Oh, he was totally trying to fuck you," Robin says. "He wanted him some curly haired nerd boy real bad." She giggles uproariously.

Dustin makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a squeak. "And, as I have said a million times before, I. Do. Not. Want. That." 

With a grunt of his own, though its one borne of exhaustion and not defeat, Steve gets to his feet and goes to pat Dustin reaffirmingly on the shoulder. "I know, man," he says, because he does.

Before meeting Billy, his dating life had been the exact same way. A complete and unmitigated disaster.

//

Max gets home from class sometime after one, spends ten minutes listening to Billy groan softly to himself and throw the same ball against the wall again and again and again before finally deciding she's had enough and dragging him out to Navy Pier. It's tacky and cliche and touristy… and also the only place in the entirety of basically landlocked Illinois that even remotely reminds either of them of California. And it's not that it looks the same. Or that it feels the same. But that it's a pier with a ferris wheel and that's about as close as either of them is going to get around here.

So they go. And sometimes they go a lot considering as they both quite frequently miss California but also love Chicago and the people they've grown to know and love here.

It usually cheers one or both of them up when they're bummed out or angry or sad or whatever and today Max drags Billy, same as always, thinking it'll work its usual magic, same as always. 

Only it doesn't.

They wander around the tacky little gift shops and nothing. 

She buys him an ice cream and nothing.

She offers to ride on the ferris wheel with him and nothing. 

The only thing that gets him to smile even a little is a bakery with some plain little cupcakes out on display that he immediately takes pictures of and then starts texting, she thinks, Steve. 

And that's when she gets the idea.

//

Dustin sighs. "Thank you, Steven. You on the other hand"—he turns to glare at Robin—"You might as well just walk around with a sign around your neck saying 'perpetual asshole' on it." 

Robin huffs, clearly unbothered by Dustin's accusation. "You know I support your right to not fuck whoever you please. I just think your reactions are funny." 

Steve's phone goes off and he struggles not to check it. 

"And a guy showing you naked pictures of himself in the middle of a date is hilarious," Robin says, grin nearly splitting her face in two.

Dustin scowls and Steve's phone goes off again and he loses the battle not to check it.

He has two texts from Billy. The first is a picture of some cupcakes with pastel blue icing. The second says, "Yours are better," and Steve can't help but smile.

When he looks up Dustin is still scowling only now it's being directed at him. 

"What?" Steve asks, fully not getting it.

Dustin grumbles something Steve doesn't quite catch, throws his hands up in the air full drama queen style and stomps back out to the front room.

"What?" Steve says again, this time to Robin. 

Robin's still smiling but the meaning behind it changes a little. Now it's less like she's having a good time and more like she's about to explain something to him. (And she just loves explaining things to him.) "He's just mad you have someone while all he can find are losers," she says.

"Oh." 

Robin shrugs like, "What can you do?" and she says, "Yeah." 

//

"I got an idea," Max says. 

Billy looks up, not exactly curious, but not… not curious, either. 

"Come on," she says, holding a hand out to him. He takes it, but he looks suspicious.

She doesn't tell him where they're going, just drags him to her car and makes him get in.

//

They arrive at the bakery and Billy sighs partly in annoyance with Max for coming up with the idea and making it some big secret, partly at himself for not getting it sooner than four blocks ago and partly in relief because annoyed as he might be at Max, he needs to be here and he's glad she's dragged him.

He walks in and the second he does, Dustin grumbles at him, "Of course you're here. Because you're perfect!" And it sounds like an insult, it has the tone of one, but Billy doesn't remotely get why or what for.

"Why—" Billy starts but Max's burst of laughter cuts him off.

Dustin makes a very loud noise and points to the kitchen. "Your boyfriend's in the back," he says, sour as anything.

Max laughs again and Billy just shrugs and heads for the back. He claps Dustin on the shoulder as he passes by and manages to keep his laughter to himself, but none of this impresses Dustin. 

The kitchen is worse (read: weirder) than the front room had been because the second Billy steps through this door Robin shouts, "Billy! Yes! Please take your idiot boyfriend home!" 

Steve glowers at her and slowly—much too slowly to mean anything other than he needs to be taken home right now—gets up off his ugly, little stool and comes to stand by Billy. "I'm fine," he growls.

This time Billy speaks before Robin can get to it. "Yeah... considering how long it took you to get up off your stool and walk over to me I'd say you're not." 

Robin nods at him and he nods back and Steve grunts, "What? Are you two conspiring against me now?" He looks to Robin. "Did you text him and ask him to come get me?" 

Billy huffs. "No. Max brought me. I was being miserable and she dragged me to the Pier and when that didn't work she dragged me here." He puts a heavy hand on Steve's good side and Steve melts under the touch almost completely.

Billy waits for Steve to say something, or for Robin to, but when neither of them does, he leans in and kisses Steve, gentle and quick. 

"Let's go home, yeah? This was good enough for a first day." 

Fortunately, this is all the convincing Steve seems to need and he lets Billy lead him out of the bakery and to Max's crusty, old orange Beetle. 

Max is incorrigible the entire drive back. She doesn't say anything in terms of words, but the smug smirk plastered all over her face says everything.

//

They go to Billy's without even discussing it.

Steve's not brave enough to admit it out loud yet, but he's started thinking of this place as 'home' as much as he hopes Billy thinks it is. And maybe he does. After all, Billy did say, "Let's go home?" didn't he? Not "Let's go to my place" or "Let's go, we'll pick where later" or even just "Let's go". He said, very specifically, "Let's go home." So maybe he meant it.

Or maybe it was just a casual slip of the tongue and Steve is overthinking things.

There isn't time to talk about it, though, even if Steve had wanted to, because Billy starts directing him towards the bedroom the second Max opens the front door and Steve is asleep the second he lies down on the bed and his head hits the pillow. 

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

8. iSpy

Ivy sat in the cold Patient First having been screened for drugs via a urine test. She'd have to wait 24 to 72 hours in order to get her results. For the first time, she hoped they came back positive.

"You gone thank me," her mama, Renee', said raising from her seat in front of the high-fixed television. It was set to HGTV and on commercial break.

"Mhm," Ivy mumbled. She hadn't wanted to go the legal route after she'd seen Dr. Stevens sidestep getting arrested and realized that the cards were truly stacked against her. She wanted to make sure that Dr. Stevens truly understood not to fuck with her. He didn't seem to get that yet, but he would.

Ivy led the way through both sets of glass doors as she exited into the high heat to her silver Nissan, climbing into the driver's seat and leaving her door open to start the car and turn on the A/C. Her black seat cover helped her from burning her ass on the leather.

"Why is it still so hot out here, oh my godd," Ivy stressed. It was getting darker but the heat had not yet subsided. She was so tired of summer. The air was hot and thick, enough to drain a person, but her mom was truly from the south and hopped right into the passenger side closing the door, waiting for the A/C to circulate.

"It ain't that hot. Yesterday was hot. Close the door, Ivy, you letting the cool air out."

Ivy's arms were rested on the wheel, but she moved, dragging to shut the door.

"Ma, I'm so mad. I can't believe that nigga still allowed to practice after what he did. I can't be the only one who knows this man is a psycho." Sighing, she pulled out of the lot.

Renee' didn't respond right away, tapping on her phone. She was always on the phone with someone. If it wasn't her brother in Florida asking for money, it was someone at her church wanting to talk or someone her job who wanted her to cook or come somewhere with them. Renee' was the type to always be there for everyone even though she didn't get anything back.

The car whipped down the road towards the Ruby Tuesdays with Ivy lost in her thoughts. She didn't feel comfortable staying alone which is why she'd packed a bag and gotten escorted to her mom's place. Of course her mom wanted to whoop ass. She all but chased Officer Howard off of her property. Ivy shook her head. She agreed with her mama, Officer Howard was a disgrace to black women and she too hoped she fell in a deep ditch and broke her ankle.

"What," Renee' asked. Ivy looked over before shaking her head again

"Nothing." She hadn't realized she was smiling. It made her feel justified having her mama on her side.

"Lord, if I knew it'd be some shit I'd have kept you in Florida," Renee' sighed, tapping on her phone. "I thought moving out here to Cali would've been an upgrade."

"It was. It's not your fault people are crazy, just a bad situation. I still can't believe that bitch ain't believe me. That's why I hate the cops."

"Child, if they ain't murdering somebody, they ain't doing shit and there's no in between."

The conversation continued and when the car pulled up at Ruby Tuesdays, Ivy hopped out and led the way inside getting a booth for two.

"I've got your drinks, do you need time to look over the menu," the black waitress asked.

"We're ready to order. I'll take the ribs and crispy shrimp with dirty rice and mashed potatoes."

"Uh uh, lil girl! Get a vegetable!" Renee' peared over her glasses. Ivy ignored her, listening as she ordered the bourbon chicken with a sweet tea and no vegetables.

"You guys look just alike," the waitress paused with a smile.

"My daughter," Renee' clarified. Ivy had gotten her eyes and her height from her, but honestly her brother was the one who looked most like her mama. The two of them had the same face, his eyes were just hazel instead. Plus, he was taller.

"So how you came across this fool? When did all this really start?"

"Mama I don't know. That was the first time I'd ever seen him as far as I know, when I went in for my appointment. He had my information before then but that was it. I'd only spoken with his receptionist. I don't know when or how or why he picked me as a target. That's all I know."

Renee' stared as if Ivy wasn't sharing everything, but shared what she knew. Ivy wished she had the answers, but she didn't know what the dentist was playing at or if it was over. The ones who were supposed to help wouldn't believe her. According to Officer Howard, she even needed evidence for a restraining order. She didn't have it.

What she did have was a brain, two hands which knew how to swing, and a gun that she kept in the trunk. If it came down to it, she'd shoot his ass without blinking or thinking twice. She knew her mom would do the same.

---

Erik stepped from his home shower onto a white shower mat that turned blood red wherever water hit it. Right now it looked like there were two bloody footprints surrounded my droplets of blood. He loved that mat.

Wrapping his waist in a fluffy white towel, he looked himself over in the mirror grabbing his oil which sat under the sink on a gold colored tray next to a pristine metal pick and a bottle of Mane N' Tail Conditioner. A little castor oil on his beard, hairline, and mustache and he was looking good and well-kept. Putting the oil back where he took it from, he adjusted it do that the Sunny Isle label faced forward. He was very particular about his belongings.

He picked up his iPhone from the sink scrolling to and opening a little blue app called iSpy. Luckily, Ivy hadn't picked up on that fact that he'd installed it onto her phone or he may have been in a bit of trouble. The advertisements bragged on the app being undetectable. No matter how much Ivy searched through her device, she should never be able to find an indication of the app being there. Only he would know what he'd done and he'd have access to her 24/7.

Scrolling through the report of Ivy's past locations, he felt a sense of giddy mischief, smiling faintly as he bit on his thumb nail. He saw the address of his office and a photo of the outside. She'd been outside while the officer was questioning him, he already was aware. Ivy had also gone home. Her address was there along with a photo of her neighborhood. He'd driven by there once or twice before she'd come in for her appointment, but of course she didn't know that. He looked to see where else she'd been.

Her mother's house. He sighed. He'd never been there. She kept involving more and more people. First the cops, now her mother. She was going to force his hand, he knew it and he was so, so intrigued.

"Trying to avoid me," he mused aloud. "Won't work."

He scrolled down and saw a gas station and Patient First.

"SHIT," he yelled exiting the app. He had to call Araya. Quickly his fingers dialed her cell phone number listening intently as the phone rang twice. "Araya," he spoke when the line picked up.

"Dr. Stevens," she purred. "You don't typically call at this time unless you're looking for a little post-work fun or someone to do your dirty work," she spoke slyly. He could hear the smirk in her voice. She was going to need some tuning to put her back in her place.  "Which is it, doctor?"

"If you want a job tomorrow, you'll cut the shit and go to the address I'm sending you. My latest toy decided to get smart. I'm sure you can put two and two together. Make sure that test gets lost quickly I'll make it worth your while."

"What ya gonna gimme," she toyed.

This wasn't the time for her to go against him or play games.

"Your life.. I'll let you keep it despite the fact that I told you to watch her and you-"

"-Are in front of Patient First. As. We. Speak,"  Aren't we, Draya?"

"Hey boss," Draya spoke.

"Remember who the hell you're dealing with, Erik," Araya said boldly causing Erik's eyes to narrow. She was laying it on thick and if it were a different circumstance, he'd be extremely turned on. "I'm your number one bitch and you'd better not forget it."

The line went dead and he stared blankly at the phone.

"Hm," he mumbled dropping his towel. The bathroom was warm enough. Phone in his palm, he swiped through his apps with his middle finger, tapping iSpy. He could see that Ivy had left a Ruby Tuesdays somewhere close to her mother's home. It wasn't hard to guess where she'd be staying.

@goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagine   @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @drsunshine97 @indigoxsummers @cccccx1  @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @sheisexcellent @blackpinup22

[unicorn-bentacles]

Ok I don't know for sure if this is what you mean by horrance gore but what do you think about: Ben losing control of his powers and Klaus trying to reach for him and calm him down despite the tentacles hurting him in the process or Klaus helping Ben clean himself up after a very bloody mission.

I chose the latter one and I hope you don’t mind that I accidently made it sad.

AO3 Link

Near midnight Klaus stumbled through a window from the fire escape and fell in a heap onto the floor. Mind fogged over with a mixture of cheap vodka and nameless drugs he somehow picked himself off the ground and wandered towards his bedroom. Klaus’s feet dragged across the linoleum tiles and with every step he listed to one side until the tip of his boot caught on the floor and sent him flying into the nearby wall. His face planted against plaster with a bang loud enough for Klaus to hope to fucking hell it hadn’t woken anyone up, he didn’t need to get into any more trouble as it is. One-handed Klaus pushed himself away from the wall and used it for support. He kept his palm flat against it and relied on it to guide him back to his room.

Klaus sensed something off and for the life of him couldn’t remember why the house seemed so empty and still. He’d knocked against Diego’s room and out of all of them he slept the lightest, Number Two should’ve at least shouted and that unnerved Klaus. A thick fog had taken root inside his mind and made it impossible for Klaus to remember exactly why he’d left the house to get so intoxicated he could barely stand. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. His heart felt light and freed Klaus of the ghosts who usually pursued him.

Almost at his door, Klaus paused as he heard weeping drift into the hallway from somewhere close by. A familiar grief-stricken siren song which beckoned Klaus to follow it into the bathroom a few feet away. Propped against the wall, he listened intently to the mournful lullaby for several minutes, and a solitary tear rolled down his cheek as it went on and on. Unable to resist the melody any longer Klaus responded to the call and staggered towards the ajar door of the shared bathroom.

Through the gap, he peered inside and discovered the source of the crying. Knees tucked underneath his chin Ben sat in the bathtub with his back to the taps, his gaze firmly planted downwards. Beads of water slid down Ben’s naked skin and glistened in the blue tinted light like fish’s scales. Granting Ben the illusion of an ocean nymph stranded on the shore and longing for the sea. The sight took away Klaus’s breath at the sheer otherworldly beauty in front of him, he yearned to freeze the moment and live forever in it. Heart beating a steady tattoo against his ribcage and bewitched Klaus entirely on impulse pushed the door wider and snuck into the cramped bathroom.

Fully inside, Klaus closed the door behind him by leaning his back against the wood. It shut with a soft click, and he wished for the thousandth time their Father would trust them with a lock. Klaus wanted another layer of security to protect Ben’s small slice of tranquillity he’d built for himself. Lost within his mind the intrusion went unnoticed by Ben, his gaze firmly focused on the bottom of the bathtub. Near the door Klaus lingered, hesitant to bridge the short space to the porcelain dingy Ben had taken refuge in. He wanted to wipe away the tears falling down Ben’s cheeks but was unsure if he was welcome to do so.

The tiled floor stretched in front of Klaus as he took the first step forwards. Time seemed to slow as he used all his strength to traverse the distance from the door to Ben. As he got closer, Klaus saw in more and more detail the pitiful state his brother was in. Congealed blood plastered a clump of hair to the side of Ben’s head, and a smear of something almost black stained the back of his neck. Both missed by his frantic attempt to wash away the taint from whatever mission he’d gone on. Streams of rust tinged water and tears flowed from his hairline and gathered at the tip of his nose, a drop swelled and fell downwards.

Finally, at his destination, he towered over the pure white tub and noticed the puddle of slurry Ben sat in the centre of. Made of a mixture of slimy pieces of human flesh and massive waterlogged blood clots, it was thick enough to block the drain and leave a centimetre of standing water at the bottom. Klaus wrinkled his nose at the salty almost metallic smell of the gore yet stayed where he was. Immune to it from years of helping Ben clean himself after missions when he needed to release the Horror and stain his hands further with death and destruction.

Klaus sat on the cold edge of the bath and with two fingers lightly tapped his brother’s forearm to alert him of his presence, taken aback slightly by the freezing temperature of Ben’s skin. The weeping stopped immediately as Ben snapped his head up and looked wildly around before his vision focused on Klaus. The rims of his eyes were raw red from crying, bloodshot and filled with a darkness that unsettled Klaus. Covered in goosebumps Ben’s skin appeared grey and lifeless in the dull light, a response probably to the cool air inside the room. Enchanted by his inhuman beauty Klaus couldn’t figure out why Ben unnerved him, he put it down to his current state of both being high as a fucking kite and drunk off his ass.

Reluctant to speak aloud and break the spell of silence blanketing the room Klaus gestured for Ben to shuffle forwards. Ben understood and gripped the sides of the bath, he pulled himself to the other end and left huge streaks of blood in his wake. Klaus got back onto his feet and went to the space freed up by Ben, he twisted both taps and watched as the water changed colour as it hit the slurry coating the bottom and struggled to drain away. Klaus bent over and forced the crimson goop through the holes of the drain, indifferent to the leftovers of Ben’s killings coating his hands as he went about his task.

The last substantial evidence of Ben’s forced bloodshed vanished down the black hole of the drain and left behind only patches as a memorial of the pain he’d inflicted on the world. Klaus placed his hands under the stream of water and rinsed away the red staining his palms. He fiddled with the taps for a moment before he found the right temperature and placed the plug into the drain. Klaus stood back upright, and his eyes fell onto the curve of Ben’s spine. Below the skin, something pushed outwards and squirmed, the fathomless beast from another universe restless inside their shared body. The greatest burden rested on Ben’s shoulders by nature of his gift, and he endured it better than Klaus ever could his own. Ben was the strongest among them, and while Klaus could talk to the dead, his brother had become the embodiment of death, and it had taken its toll on his fragile psyche.

Faced with the melancholic stoop of Ben’s shoulders within touching distance, Klaus was forced to confront a truth he’d hidden from. He no longer understood Ben, not like he used to. At some point over the last few years, a vast sea had grown between them, and Klaus had no idea how to cross the ever widening space. The two of them had taken such divergent paths in dealing with their trauma. Ben wholly disconnected from the world and drowned himself in wave after wave of pain he never spoke aloud to atone for sins he’d committed by the directions of their Father. Klaus had thrown himself into the realm of the living, numbing himself with drugs to quiet the inescapable ghosts surrounding him and to hide from his own shame at abandoning Ben for those brief moments of respite.

The crux of the matter was they were two sides of the same coin, united in pain by the curse bestowed on them by some cruel unknown deity. Ben cared too much for the humanity he saved on a regular basis and who still rejected him as a person, the public saw him as a monster, and it destroyed him inside. His gift something to be feared and avoided. Klaus’s power, on the other hand, forced him to see the worst in people, he knew far too well the disturbing acts normal humans did to each other and wanted no part in helping. He hated how they treated Ben, and if he had the chance would burn the entire world just to bring his brother a moment of peace.

As the bath slowly filled Klaus left the bathtub to busy himself with searching the cabinet underneath the sink for the bubble bath, Allison hid in there. He found it stashed behind a bottle of half empty bleach and stood back up to grab the hand towel hanging on a metal loop fixed into the wall. He returned to the bath and added the thick syrupy liquid into the water, with one hand Klaus swirled the shimmery bubble bath around until it dissolved. The soothing smell of lavender floated out of the water and hid the sharp tang of blood, changing the sombre aura of the room into something relaxing.

Klaus settled on the lip of the tub facing Ben and dipped the towel into the water, damped it. He pulled it out to wipe the missed bits of grime off Ben’s face and stopped when a hand shot from the water, it wrapped itself around Klaus’s wrist and held tight enough to bruise. Slowly Ben’s eyes met his own and Klaus watched as the mist cleared within them, wordlessly his brother pleaded for him to come closer and anchor him back to reality.Ben rarely allowed people to touch him, the issues with his own self-image impacted every factor in his existence. He distrusted everyone in fear that if they came in contact with him, they would end up dead. Ben starved himself of affection out of duty to protect people and had become trapped as an observer of his own life. Forever on the sidelines, Ben wished to be apart of the world and knew he never could be. The knowledge fueled his conviction of being sub-human and drove him to hide away, yet the more he disengaged, the less human Ben thought he was. A feedback loop that fed off itself and Klaus had no way of stopping.

So to have Ben reach out to Klaus was a massive thing, the simple act showed he wanted the affection his brother gave out so easily. He desperately needed Klaus to remind him of his own humanity with the feel of someone else’s skin against his own. A request Klaus could never refuse.

Ben released his grip around Klaus’s wrist and shoved his hand below the water again. Hastily Klaus peeled off his crop top and pulled it over his head while at the same time he shimmied out of his trousers and underwear. He loosely balled up his clothes and threw them in the general direction of the laundry basket. Klaus stepped into the bath space in front of Ben as his brother slid backwards to give him extra room. He slowly submerged himself into the warm water until he sat knee to knee with Ben.

A tangle of arms and legs it took sever awkward moments for Ben and Klaus to manoeuvre themselves into a comfortable position. Chest to chest Ben curled around his brother’s torso and felt extremely cold against Klaus’s warm skin. Head against Klaus’s ribcage Ben seemed to hold onto his brother like a life raft. The contact a beacon of light which guided Ben back from wherever his mind had wandered off too. Dark hair tickled Klaus’s nose with the scent of blood and salt water, a mixture representing Ben perfectly and calmed his strained nerves.

The comforting weight on Klaus’s chest and the steady sound of running water created a wave of drowsiness to crash over him. For the first time in months, Klaus felt safe and loved, though distantly he knew something was wrong and he couldn’t pinpoint why. Klaus banished the thought to the back of his mind and instead rubbed soothing circles in Ben’s back. He savoured the soft feel of his brother’s skin under his fingertips and closed his eyes. Their contact wasn’t sexual in any capacity, it was just an act of loved filled intimacy neither of them received normally. A showing of devotion if their Father ever found out about would end with both of them punished harshly. Klaus dozed off, and as he did so, a sense of immeasurable loss bloomed deep inside his heart. An emotion he couldn’t find the source of it filled him with a nameless dread.

Within the darkness of almost consciousness, Klaus felt someone press their cold lips against his own, soft and unpractised it was one of the most kisses he’d ever received. Filled with overwhelming grief, Klaus chased it as it ended and opened his eyes.

The room empty Klaus was alone.

He sat bolt upright and caused a surge of sweet smelling water to crash over the lip of the tub and flood the floor. Every sign of Ben inside the bathroom had vanished. The reality hit Klaus like a stone as he remembered the truth. Ben had died months ago. The last few hours were merely a memory he recreated in guilt and fueled by drugs. He dropped his face into his hands as the dam in Klaus’s heart burst as he began to sob. His cries echoed in the darkened bathroom as he grieved for a love lost forever beneath the black waves of death.

[jlpat82]

Not Our Home

Chapter 3

"Elise, I'm telling you, he is real. I've seen him, and I've talked to him. Look." I glanced around the empty stockroom and pulled a vial out of my pocket.

"What is that?" She asked, as I handed it to her. She shook the vial and watched the brown powder bounce back and forth.

"It's soil, dirt, earth. It's from outside." I told her excitedly. She glanced at me wide eyed, ducking her head just lightly.

"It's what?!" She almost shrieked, I shushed her and looked around panic stricken someone heard her. "Sorry, but what do you mean it's soil. This is forbidden, punishable by death if they catch you with it."

"I know."

"I know you know but I don't think you understand. This isn't like one of your other many trinkets. This is a contamination breech. This, this tiny bit of soil, could be down fall of our entire existence. And here you are happy as lark showing it to me, and if I don't report it that's death for me." She pushed it back into my hand, I felt like I had just been kicked. I trusted Elise with my life, she knew about my underground lifestyle. She knew everything there was to know about me.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just thought." I trailed off.

"That being said, that's kinda awesome." She gave me a wicked smile, I let out a deep sigh of relief. "I wonder what else is out there."

"A whole world we know nothing about." I exclaimed full of excitement.

The day seemed to pass by slowly. Every hour was agonizingly slow, very little product came in for us to stock and we had very few customers in the building.

I watched the clock my last hour, the minutes slowly ticked by. Finally the clock struck six and we could leave. I rushed to my locker grabbing my things quickly. Elise sprinted to catch up with me.

"So are you going to come with me?" I turned to look at her, apprehension filled me.

"Jules, I love that this is happening to you and I'll listen to every word you tell me but I just can't. I can't take the risk of getting caught on this one." I nodded, I knew where she was coming from. She had other people that depended on her well being, the risk was too high for her.

"I understand. Have a safe ride home." I turned and just about sprinted out the sidedoor, not going to lie I was disappointed. I could understand her fears, her worries, if my life was different then maybe I wouldn't do what I doing but it wasn't.

The tube was utter darkness, there was no moon out to guide my way. I ran my hand against the cold plexiglass wall to guide me. I listened to my foot steps echo as I walked home. I was deep in thought, wondering what it would be like to cross paths with menacing creature that the watcher had described. Would I be fast enough to escape? Would I be cunning and be able to outsmart them?

It was then at this point it dawned on me, I could hear another set of foot prints. It was walking a few steps faster coming from behind me. Could it be the watcher? I turned my head slightly to hear better, and I heard foot steps coming from ahead of me.

I reached into my pocket, only to releaize that my pepper spray must have fallen out when I stumbled the other night. I slinked, backing up to the tube side, my heart thumped hard in my chest. The foot steps were close as the sound of metal on plastic started to get louder.

If I stood not moving, whatever they were dragging against the wall would surely find me. If I dropped in a crouching position, there was still the possibility of being caught by the metal and then I would be at a disadvantage. I was screwed, I was maybe halfway through tube, and no way to get help.

I reminded myself to breathe easy, as my heart threaten to burst from my chest. Two on one, and I had little doubt what was in the tubes with me. They had me at disadvantage, if it was who I feared they lived their whole life's in the darkest parts of the underground. I crossed my fingers I was wrong.

I heard one scrape past on the opposite side of me as the other was quickly approaching. I stepped forward quietly, and turned placing my back against the other wall. I heard a the scratching noise pass by just where I had be standing seconds earlier. The foots step began to quiet down as they got farther away.

I felt a sense of relief wash over me, only to be filled dread knowing they hadn't left the tube. Surely they had heard me enter the tube, as I hadn't heard them exit. I was stuck in here, with two people I couldn't see. They had weapons and I had, I had my brain. I would trade that for my pepper spray in a flash.

I slipped off my heavy work shoes, and left them on the side of the tube that the person going away from my building had walked. Hoping if for what ever reason it came back this way the individual would be tripped. I cautiously continued walking the direction of my home. Without my shoes it was deathly quiet, I could only hear my own breath.

I felt something brush up against my arm, it was cool and sharp. In an instant, I heard the individual start to turn, I dropped down. I listened as metal connected with the plexie, I brought my elbow up as I stood, it connect with air. I missed.

However the blinding pain in my ribs told me that whoever it was did connect with me, I dropped to the ground. Attempting to remember how to breathe again when I felt a sharp pain hit me in the ribs again.

"Eh, we got us a girl this time!" I heard him yell down the tube. I pushed myself to my feet as I threw a half ass punch in the inky black night, holding my side. Nothing again as it struck out into the air.

Pain exploded across my cheek and I fell to the ground. I guess I can safely say that the violence in the tubes wasn't just a rumor. I could hear the second set of foot prints rapidly approach.

"Ain't she something, you got her good too. Busted her cheek wide open." I felt something touch my stinging cheek. "She'll still fetch for a good price."

Great, it was just as bad as I thought it would be, they were underlings. They were the worst of the worst in the underground network. These people had no morals and would do anything for quick buck. Ruthless killers, if you happen to have a bounty on your head. They are also quite adept at being able to see in little to no light. I had picked the wrong night to take the tubes home.

"Think she's carrying any?" I felt hands on me in an instant searching my pockets first, looking for money. Then one of them got handsy and started to cop a feel. I lashed out kicking, landing it somewhere on one of them.

He howled in pain as his fiend of a friend started laughing. Something scuffled toward me, he landed another blow on the side of head.

"Bitch!"

"Watch out, Roy. She's a feisty one." His friend got out between laughs, an earthy smell filled my senses.

"Boys, I think you best to leave the girl alone." That voice, I knew it. Visions of him sitting on my couch, I knew it was time to make my escape.

"Back off, yulo. This is our paycheck." A remark echoes through the air. I was crawling away when the scuffle broke out behind me as I crawled to my knees. Pain coursed through my side as pulled up.

I pushed myself to my feet and ran the rest of the way through the tube, I found the door just as I heard screams echo from the darkness behind me. I didn't stop running till I was in my apartment, slamming the door behind me once again.

"Julianne, what are the clothes in the bathroom? You had a boy over and..." She came around the corner and saw me. "What happened?"

"I was cornered by underlings in the tube." I winced as Sasha came up to me and touched my cheek. "As for clothes I can totally explain."

"Well, let's clean you up first." She led me to the bathroom, Sasha poured some alcohol on to the towel and pressed to my bleeding cheek. It stung to the high heavens. "I would say sorry but, it's your own fault taking those things at night. You're lucky you got away, very few escape underlings, and you of all people know that. So how did you do it?"

"The watcher, he showed up." I winced, as she bandaged my cheek.

"What?"

"If you would stop, I'll explain." I said pulling away, she crossed her arms waiting. "The man from the outside of the tubes, he was here last night. Those are his clothes, I was going to throw them in the wash but someone would of seen me. So I hand washed them and hung them up to dry. After I was jumped in the tube he showed up again. That's how I got away."

"So your mystery man saved your skin?" She asked, giving me a look that said she wasn't believing me. "How'ed he get in then?"

"I don't know!" I almost yelled. "You can not believe me all you want, but these are his clothes."

I frantically searched my pockets for the vial of dirt to show her. It was gone, I became more panicked at the realization that one of the underlings must have pocketed it thinking it was drugs. If they knew what they had I was in bigger trouble then I was in already.

"Oh no, it's gone. Shit." My voice was high and tense.

"What's gone?"

"The dirt, it was in a small glass bottle, it's soil from outside and they must have taken it." I ran to the door.

"You are not going back out there!" She argued following me. I turned to face her at the door as I was opening it.

"I have to get it back!" I stepped out while still facing my sister and ran right into the watcher. I stumbled back clutching my side as pain seared through it, he caught my arm before I fell back on my butt.

"Are you okay?" Concern in his face.

"Uh, yeah. I think so." I winced, holding the ribs that had been kicked.

"No, you're not. You're hurt." He walked in and closed the door behind himself. Shielding his eyes he walked me to the kitchen. He pointed to the table. "Sit."

I did as I was told, I watched him walk over and turn the lamp on. He flipped the over head light off, my sister stood by the door her jaw gaping open in shock. He came back to me and attempted to lift my shirt up. I fought to push it back down, his face became stern.

"Let me see your ribs." He ordered, something in his voice told me not the argue. I took my shirt off, heat rose to my face.

He placed his large hands on the light blue purple bruise starting to form. I looked at him, he wasn't this close before. His skin was pale, and his face held the scruff of a five-o-clock shadow. Blood was lightly smeared on the his cheek but I didn't see any wound. His hands were also covered in someone else's blood I presumed.

He smelled of earth and the coppery smell of blood, a whirlwind of other scents I didn't recognize. He pressed lightly on the spot, I pulled away as a sharp pain followed. He reached around pulled me back toward him.

"Stop moving." He mumbled, I flushed up as he pressed his hot hand against my side again. Instinctively I pulled away, my face knotted with confusion and pain. He put his hands on the table, looking back up at me from under his brow. "If you don't stop moving I can't fix your rib."

"It hurts when you press on it." I replied softly, making eye contact. They looked golden this evening with ivy flecks streaking through them.

"You have a broken rib, I know it hurts but it will keep hurting if I don't set it." He reached back around, pulling me back towards him.

"How do you know she has a broken rib?" Oh look, Sasha finally found her voice, I thought.

"I can feel it." He placed his hand on my side again. Slowly his hand started to heat up as he applied gentle pressure at first.

"How can you set it? Doctors can't even set them, they just tape you up and send you home." She bulked at him.

"Cause, I'm not a doctor. I'm genetically modified." He replied cooly, his hand became very hot, and the pressure started to hurt immensely. I managed to stay still, not to pulling away this time. "Good girl."

"What are you doing?" My sister asked again, watching in horror as she could see the pain through soar through my face.

"Fixing her rib." I saw him roll his eyes this time.

"Yeah, I got that but how?" He looked up at me again, I could see the annoyance on his face. A sudden wave of pain hit me like brick, knocking the breath from my body. I became light headed, he was quick to reach around and keep me in place.

"It's almost over, kid. Just hold on a bit longer." He murmured, heat spread out in my side as I felt a crawling sensation. "I pushed the bone back into place and  now I'm accelerating the bone growth."

"How can you do that? That's impossible." She admonished, the crawling sensation eased up. My side was warm, and he removed his hands from me.

"All done, kid. Just take easy the next day or two." He told me me softly, and smiled while I took slow deep breaths. I pulled my shirt back on as he turned to face my sister. "What part of genetically modified didn't you hear? I'm not like any of you, I can see, hear, smell, and do things you can't. Example, I can tell you broke five of the small bones in your left foot, probably around the age the seven. It was never set right, it gives you problems after you get off of work because swells and hurts."

"You're right. We were pretending to fly in our bedroom, Sasha jumped off the top bunk and land on a toy house. The doctors said nothing could be done and taped her foot." I replied sliding off the table clutching my tender side. Sasha's eyes widened as she brought her hand to her mouth. "What happened to the underlings?"

"The what?" He asked, turning to me.

"The guys that attacked me."

"They won't be bothering you, or anyone else, any more." His voice was cold and flat. His face was stone, no emotion this golden eyes changed to bronze in an instant as he looked over his should to me. In my gut I knew, being on the wrong side of this man was a very deadly place to be.

"Who are you?" Sasha whispered.

"They called me Reaper." He walked slowly to the door. I rushed past him, not ready for him leave. I wanted to know more, I had to know more. I slammed my body against the door and pain burned through my ribs. "Damn it, kid, I told you to take it easy."

I slid down the door, the pain was unbearable this time. It was hard to catch my breath, Reaper lifted me off the ground. Shaking his head he took me back to the kitchen and laid me on the table. Placing his hand on my side again, he look me in eye the storm in those eyes had vanished and they were golden again.

"You're lucky you didn't break them again. You can only fix someone's bones so many times." His eyes were tired, not like ready to sleep tired. Tired in away when you've seen the world collapse and die, and every one you is know and have care about has left his earth. Where fighting for your life is a daily struggle, I could of been reading to much into it but I could only imagine. "No more slamming yourself into stationary objects, I have to go. The lights are killing my head and the walls are closing in around me. You need to go to sleep."

With that he turned and left, I didn't move from the table. I watched him as he closed the door behind himself. The room was quiet, I slowly sat up and looked around. My sister seemed as confused as I was.

"Well, you finally brought a boy home, I think we should celebrate."

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[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

A/N: This chapter is shorter, but we'll be okay.

Part 16: Conversation

"Why the hell are you standing in the doorway staring at me like that," Y/N squinted from her position on the bed. She was supposed to be changing for the night out. Apparently, she couldn't strip with the door open. Little did she know, she was staring at him just as hard.. or else she wouldn't know just how hard he was staring.

"Hello? Nigga?" She was baiting him with a doe-eyed face of stone trying to force his reaction. He could pinch those chubby cheeks. She was at her best when she didn't try.

"Like what," he teased. "How am I looking at you?"

"Like you crazy!"

"You think I'm crazy?" Hands hitched in the pockets of his black Ralph Lauren Purple Label slacks, he watched the micromovements of her eyes, mouth, and body. They always helped him to decipher her mood and what she truly meant. She was an open book and judging by the small up and down movement of her eyeballs, the answer to the question was yes.

"No," she lied suddenly uneasy. He watched her scoot around it. She didn't want to offend him and was treading carefully, something she didn't need to do. "You're not crazy per se.. just a little.. intense." Another lie, but not one worth calling out. Didn't matter either way. He knew he wasn't crazy. The world, however, was batshit and he had to keep up. Eyes focused on her, his mind began to drift to his true purpose for being in Texas, racing through various possible scenarios and combatting them.. logically thinking in terms of steps he'd take to accomplish his ultimate goal. All in a matter of seconds complex plans crossed his mind, reworking themselves past dead ends and around blind spots. If he couldn't predict an outcome, he wouldn't have the advantage he needed to launch a highly successful attack. Slow down. What am I missing? He had to plug in the gaps. How would he proceed with the current target since he'd fucked things up so badly? Because of his one-track mind, he had the tendency to become irrational when there was a clear goal in mind to achieve. He'd do it by any means necessary and he realized he'd done just that. However justified, he'd been pushed to make an impulsive executive decision that he'd have to bounce back from. The colonizer he was up against currently had the upper hand in regard to anticipation and territory advantage. Striking quickly wouldn't be an option at this point. He needed unpredictability in his side. Besides. If the target knew Erik was close and hunting him, he might take the offensive position and all Erik had to do was wait. That was the introduction to the issue. If he were on his own, this would be a perfect situation, but Y/N was with him and completely oblivious to the situation he'd selfishly and inadvertently involved her in.

Aside from that, both Jaliyah and Swift were hitting up his phones.. Jaliyah obviously drunk as fuck and begging him to do some wild shit to her in public again.. and Swift demanding answers like she was running shit. He'd brushed them both off to deal with when he got back to Cali.

"Aight... now you look like a complete psycho.. Blink!" He fluttered his lashes, happy to see her lip curl in irritation. "Smartass," she responded to his rapid blinking. He was tickled by her response. Riling her up was so easy and stress-reducing. "Now close the door," she directed in a soft sing-song voice. He decided to humor her. "Now bring your spiky pineapple headass over here," she pointed to the space ahead of her. His brow raised to check her. He didn't need to say a word, she backed down subtly with a sneaky smirk falling back on her elbows, one foot propped on the bed, her knee in the air.

"Aight now.. You acting up."

The red dress rose and slid exposing clear brown skin on mountainous thighs.. thicker than any girl whose company he'd ever had the pleasure of keeping. He could still remember exactly how tightly those thighs had squeezed him just this morning. As he approached, the phone in his pocket buzzed yet again.

"What's that?"

Shit. Could she hear that?

"What's what?"

"That face. This isn't the first time you've made that face today," she pointed, "Your eyes go dead and it's like your soul just dies at random times. Something must really be pissing you off because you're overthinking and I'm not so ignorant and self absorbed that I wouldn't notice when something's been bothering you. It's written all over your face so tell me what it is."

The fuck?

"Whatchu' mean? Ain't nothing wrong."

Her dark sarcasm shot daggers through him. She ain't believe him.

"I'm not so stupid that I'd believe that either. Besides, I'm your best friend and if I don't notice then who will?"

"You back to that best friend shit again, I see."

"Well if we're not friends then what ar--," she chuckled humorlessly, "Wow. Don't distract me. No, it's that far away look in your eye like you're not truly present and your mind's somewhere else. You go quiet...," she paused, her dark brown orbs focused and delving carefully into his. "Tell me what's wrong."

Gotdamn.. She'd certainly gotten more perceptive. Somehow she was able to read what many people missed. People tended to see what they wanted see and if they couldn't see it, they'd make up their own narrative. Somehow this girl was able to hit on something real. If he wasn't careful, she'd be the one to figure out his secrets. Then where would that leave him?

Alone again. Numb.

"HEY," her fingers snapped bringing his focus quickly back to the moment at hand. "Talk to me. You're always the one there for me, it gets old being the damsel. Let me help you for once."

Time spent together had her learning him bit by bit and while he liked the feeling of being cared for, it made it that much harder to hide.

I shouldn't still have you here. I'm putting you at risk just to stay a little longer in a fantasy.

"Erik."

"Chill. I'm aight ma just admiring my property. Can I look at you?" He parted her thighs and pushed the red material back over her stomach looking at the junction of her thighs. She was getting a bit too close to him in a way he wasn't used to. It made him uncomfortable.

If he made her horny enough, the conversation would turn to sex, they'd fuck, and eventually she wouldn't remember her own name much less care about this conversation. She kissed her teeth, obviously getting frustrated the more he stared.

"I feel like that's 60% lie but okay, keep your little secrets since you don't wanna trust nobody." She closed her legs and flipped over aggressively facing the window as if she were going to sleep. This was her mad pose, but it wasn't a bad view. Her ass was poked out. Not on purpose, but because it was fat. She pulled the dress down to cover it. Her level of perceptiveness had grown to an impressive level.

"Y/N," he tested, waiting for any type of response. He touched her kneecap and shook her knee gently. "Y/N..," he waited.

The silent treatment. Mature.

"You serious right now? I told you what it was. Why you mad?" No response. This is stupid. He waited a minute watching her in the silence, the only sounds being the TV and the voices of loud laughing guests carrying from the other side of the floor. "Aight, get up," he said grabbing her leg. She kicked at him, returning back to her position once he took a step back.

Definitely a brat. He'd give her another minute and then he'd end it. Watching her, he counted down mentally.

"You actin bogus.. Get up," he commanded at the end of the countdown. She didn't move from her spot, kicking when he came nearer again. "You really wanna do this?" He contemplated dragging her from the bed, but decided to be patient. She responded best to warmth rather than rough manhandling so he had to use techniques she'd respond to. Securing his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't grab her, he tried a softer approach.

"Daddy don't like babies, angel. He like big girls... Don't you wanna please Daddy? Ain't that yo responsibility?"

"What I want is to know why you don't trust me with anything real about you. I'm not stupid. I know jack shit about you and that's not cool, you never tell me anything. You keep me out here on the surface like I ain't shit yet you know all my business and I don't like that.. It's an uneven exchange and I can't get my secrets back.. but that's okay, I don't want them back.. I just wanna know you. What's so bad about that?"

"The fuck? That's why you mad? You know me better than most.. Ain't nothing to say, it's not your job to take care of me. I'm the guardian. I'm the protector. I'm the teacher. All I need you to do is listen, obey, and keep yourself open. Don't waste your time thinking you need to know every detail about me to know me. You know me."

"Whatever. You got it."

What did that mean.. What the fuck? He watched her stoic expression as she looked off through the open window. How did they get here? He could only imagine what was going on in her mind. What dots was she trying to connect and what did she already figure out that she wasn't saying? He couldn't underestimate her intelligence. It was one of the things about her he enjoyed most no matter how troublesome it could be. Putting his hand gently on her arm, she didn't react. She was still in thought, contemplating but what was she contemplating? He ain't like the direction this was headed. It stressed him more than he thought it would. Definitely more than it should.

"I'll ask you one question that you gotta answer and you can ask me one question," he blurted watching her eyes slowly refocus and land on his. He hoped he wouldn't regret it.

"Just one," she asked, suddenly sobering. Of course she was in.

"One," he stressed with a finger up watching curiosity resurrect her from the silence. She pursed her lips, hesitating before looking him up and down.

"Mm, okay. You go first."

---

I can't believe that actually worked... Go figure.

It's a shame that you have to resort to trickery to get answers from him, but as tight-lipped as he is about himself and all things surrounding him, you would've never gotten anything out of him otherwise. You had to trick him. Right?

"Ask your question," you prompt ready for him to get his out of the way.

"Why do you have such intense anxiety? You mentioned a bad sexual experience and I know it traumatized you.. Do you think that's the root of it or were you dealing with some unwanted thoughts before then?"

"Um.." Your mind freezes. Honestly, you thought he'd ask something stupid or sexual. "Technically, that's two questions." Two very personal questions. Should you pick one or answer them both? You've gotta sit up for this one. "Ummm," you stall sitting up across from him. He's analyzing with those intense eyes again, about to turn over and examine every word you say along with the spaces in between, you already know.

"O-kay," you breathe looking away to collect and organize your thoughts as you pace slowly to the large window. "Alright, so, I guess I'll start with the general anxiety? I don't know why I do it so I can't tell you that, but I think a lot and I can't stop thinking which is why I know when you're overthinking something. I can tell when someone's annoyed with me, frustrated, genuine or otherwise and I don't like disappointing people. I also have an irrational fear of being embarrassed.. I will go out of my way to avoid it.."

You can see cars way down on the street passing by, the tall building across the street, and the darkening sky overhead. Someone says something about sunset retractable awnings on the television and you know it's that ancient commercial because who else even makes those...

"I guess with that incident that happened when I was in college, my two greatest fears came to life all at once and I didn't know how to completely get over it... I told you, well you guessed, that there were.. things said.. and certain things that happened.. and obviously I internalized them. Your word."

When you turn to look at him, he's watching and waiting like no matter how long you go on and on droning, he won't interrupt. He'll listen to the end. Even with the silence now, he doesn't move or speak. Testing your theory, you stare back out through the window for a while. It's like you thought, he's waiting.

"...It was about four years ago. Que party. Senior year. I was a "virgin" and decided I didn't want to be," you shrug. "So you know the Que dog reputation, how they be? Well, these guys lived up to that.. Or so I'd heard."

Still no comment from Erik, but his full attention.

"I decided I wanted someone with uh," you smirk, "Experience.. and since I didn't talk to or know many guys on campus, I stupidly thought that a party could be a good way to go about it. Don't judge me," you point. His expression doesn't change so you continue. "So, I go to this party and I'm already out of my comfort zone, but then I see Omar and he is fine. I mean, my whole body pointed like a hunting dog in an old cartoon and said that one," you chuckle remembering your body's exact response. It was like your response when you met Erik, but on a lesser scale. Never had you reacted the way you had when you saw Erik in person for the first time. You thought you'd collapse on the spot or rip off the both of your clothes in attack, but all you could do was smile goofily and shake his hand stiffly like you were at an interview. The memory is one you'd rather forget.

"So we met, we flirted, we danced a bit, and I'm thinking this just might be bae! He's holding my waist. He doesn't care that I'm chubby. We're having fun and drinking. Then we go to a back room and he's standing there. I'm standing there. We're just standing there and I'm like okay what now? So, I start taking my clothes off and he follows suit. Now, we're both butt booty naked in front of each other.. standing there. It's the first time I've ever seen an adult male penis so I'm staring at it like how do I make this thing hard. It doesn't even matter apparently because he tells me to lie down and that's when it happened.."

You rehash to him the details as the flashback hits vividly. Every word, you remember. What Omar said about you and what everyone else said to your face and behind your back for the rest of the year. Being known as nasty, dirty, trifling, and also the easy girl all at once. It had damaged a lot. Your image, your friendships, potential relationships, pieces of your self-esteem.. even though they were lies. If enough people say something about you enough times, eventually it gets in. Anyone truly trying to know you could figure that they were lies but unfortunately no one had tried after that. It was why you changed states. You couldn't deal in South Carolina.

"So to answer your questions.. the anxiety had always been there but it was something I could push off because I knew it was irrational. After college, my fear seemed justified and necessary like if I had only listened to it and took it as a warning instead of disregarding it as something to overcome or see pass.. what happened to me never would've happened."

Silence.

"That's all," you say letting him know it's okay to talk. In fact, you need him to talk. Fill the silence. Say anything. His pause is thoughtful, giving you room to add if you have more to say, but you don't.

"There's a pattern," he says suddenly with understanding. "You have a lot of fear and most of all, you fear rejection."

What are you, my therapist?

"And? ..Who wants to be rejected," you snap feeling suddenly more vulnerable.

"What I like about you though is that despite that fear, every now and again you'll take a risk and it could either be the worst thing for you or the best thing, but regardless you go all in.. You got a one-track mind like me," he smiles, eyes widening like it's something that can't be helped. His comparison wasn't something you expected. You didn't think you were very much like him in that way at all, but now that he points it out you wish he'd elaborate. Maybe it'd give you more of a glimpse into him.. the man, not the dom. He pats his lap and you step closer, easing down to sit on his thighs feeling his arm wrap around you.

"People's reactions, their motives and what they believe, the past... These are things you can't control no matter how much you want to or what you do.. or don't do. Since you can't control it, dwelling on it is a waste of your mental and emotional resources.. as well as your time. But since that's something that's easier said than done," he scowls giving you the feeling he's talking about himself as well, "Focus on something that's within your ability to effect and control. For example.. You can never please everyone.. but you can please me."

"Nigga."

"Listen," he smirks holding you still just as you're about to push him on the chest to get up. "You're incapable of disappointing me and I won't reject you.. not like that. I won't embarrass you.. not like that. Focus on me. Rely on me. Trust me.. and I'll show you that you're braver than you think. That's something no one can take from you."

"Yeah, okay, my turn and brace yourself since you asked me like sixteen questions."

"You only had to answer once."

"Fuck that, I want answers." Yeah I said fuck, you muse watching his brows go up again in surprise. "What's in that locked room at your house and why is it locked if you live alone?"

"I wasn't alone, you were there."

"Oh, so it's to keep me out specifically.." It takes one stern look for him to cut the crap and he rolls his eyes, a smirk playing at the corner his lips.

"I'll show you when we get back," he promises.

"Red room of pain?"

"I hate that damn movie." That's an affirmative. Suddenly you were excited to get back to Cali so you could really be nosey. "You contact them girls you met at the mall? You should hang out with them again sometime before we leave Texas."

"I texted them a couple of times. They'd be down." They'd actually invited you to lunch with them today, but you were with Erik. They easily understood when you declined.

"I'm ready to see outfit number two. Change and then we'll get ready to head back out. I know you wanna see the Reunion Tower at night," he says smacking your thigh. It's true, you do. That's why he'd paid for you two to go back for the night. You'd look around some more, eat dinner, and just enjoy it. You wanted to eat at the other shmancy restaurant they had earlier but it was closed during the day.

"You change too. You were sweating a bit," you remind him in the spirit of fairness. Just because you had more crevices didn't mean he didn't sweat just as much as you. He had to hit the shower as well.. preferably with you..

"Mhm," he chuckles knowingly as you stand to take off your dress. "All you have to do is ask."

"No need," you smile walking to the bathroom.

"Ask," he insists stubbornly, still staring from the bed. You shake your head.

"Nope! My daddy is a genius so I don't have to. He already knows what I want."

"....Start the shower."

@muse-of-mbaku @imaginewhoever @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagine   @vikkidc @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens   @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @drsunshine97 @purplehairgawdess @trevantesbrat @indigoxsummers @cccccx1   @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @fonville-designs @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent @blackpinup22

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

8. iSpy

Ivy sat in the cold Patient First having been screened for drugs via a urine test. She'd have to wait 24 to 72 hours in order to get her results. For the first time, she hoped they came back positive.

"You gone thank me," her mama, Renee', said raising from her seat in front of the high-fixed television. It was set to HGTV and on commercial break.

"Mhm," Ivy mumbled. She hadn't wanted to go the legal route after she'd seen Dr. Stevens sidestep getting arrested and realized that the cards were truly stacked against her. She wanted to make sure that Dr. Stevens truly understood not to fuck with her. He didn't seem to get that yet, but he would.

Ivy led the way through both sets of glass doors as she exited into the high heat to her silver Nissan, climbing into the driver's seat and leaving her door open to start the car and turn on the A/C. Her black seat cover helped her from burning her ass on the leather.

"Why is it still so hot out here, oh my godd," Ivy stressed. It was getting darker but the heat had not yet subsided. She was so tired of summer. The air was hot and thick, enough to drain a person, but her mom was truly from the south and hopped right into the passenger side closing the door, waiting for the A/C to circulate.

"It ain't that hot. Yesterday was hot. Close the door, Ivy, you letting the cool air out."

Ivy's arms were rested on the wheel, but she moved, dragging to shut the door.

"Ma, I'm so mad. I can't believe that nigga still allowed to practice after what he did. I can't be the only one who knows this man is a psycho." Sighing, she pulled out of the lot.

Renee' didn't respond right away, tapping on her phone. She was always on the phone with someone. If it wasn't her brother in Florida asking for money, it was someone at her church wanting to talk or someone her job who wanted her to cook or come somewhere with them. Renee' was the type to always be there for everyone even though she didn't get anything back.

The car whipped down the road towards the Ruby Tuesdays with Ivy lost in her thoughts. She didn't feel comfortable staying alone which is why she'd packed a bag and gotten escorted to her mom's place. Of course her mom wanted to whoop ass. She all but chased Officer Howard off of her property. Ivy shook her head. She agreed with her mama, Officer Howard was a disgrace to black women and she too hoped she fell in a deep ditch and broke her ankle.

"What," Renee' asked. Ivy looked over before shaking her head again

"Nothing." She hadn't realized she was smiling. It made her feel justified having her mama on her side.

"Lord, if I knew it'd be some shit I'd have kept you in Florida," Renee' sighed, tapping on her phone. "I thought moving out here to Cali would've been an upgrade."

"It was. It's not your fault people are crazy, just a bad situation. I still can't believe that bitch ain't believe me. That's why I hate the cops."

"Child, if they ain't murdering somebody, they ain't doing shit and there's no in between."

The conversation continued and when the car pulled up at Ruby Tuesdays, Ivy hopped out and led the way inside getting a booth for two.

"I've got your drinks, do you need time to look over the menu," the black waitress asked.

"We're ready to order. I'll take the ribs and crispy shrimp with dirty rice and mashed potatoes."

"Uh uh, lil girl! Get a vegetable!" Renee' peared over her glasses. Ivy ignored her, listening as she ordered the bourbon chicken with a sweet tea and no vegetables.

"You guys look just alike," the waitress paused with a smile.

"My daughter," Renee' clarified. Ivy had gotten her eyes and her height from her, but honestly her brother was the one who looked most like her mama. The two of them had the same face, his eyes were just hazel instead. Plus, he was taller.

"So how you came across this fool? When did all this really start?"

"Mama I don't know. That was the first time I'd ever seen him as far as I know, when I went in for my appointment. He had my information before then but that was it. I'd only spoken with his receptionist. I don't know when or how or why he picked me as a target. That's all I know."

Renee' stared as if Ivy wasn't sharing everything, but shared what she knew. Ivy wished she had the answers, but she didn't know what the dentist was playing at or if it was over. The ones who were supposed to help wouldn't believe her. According to Officer Howard, she even needed evidence for a restraining order. She didn't have it.

What she did have was a brain, two hands which knew how to swing, and a gun that she kept in the trunk. If it came down to it, she'd shoot his ass without blinking or thinking twice. She knew her mom would do the same.

---

Erik stepped from his home shower onto a white shower mat that turned blood red wherever water hit it. Right now it looked like there were two bloody footprints surrounded my droplets of blood. He loved that mat.

Wrapping his waist in a fluffy white towel, he looked himself over in the mirror grabbing his oil which sat under the sink on a gold colored tray next to a pristine metal pick and a bottle of Mane N' Tail Conditioner. A little castor oil on his beard, hairline, and mustache and he was looking good and well-kept. Putting the oil back where he took it from, he adjusted it do that the Sunny Isle label faced forward. He was very particular about his belongings.

He picked up his iPhone from the sink scrolling to and opening a little blue app called iSpy. Luckily, Ivy hadn't picked up on that fact that he'd installed it onto her phone or he may have been in a bit of trouble. The advertisements bragged on the app being undetectable. No matter how much Ivy searched through her device, she should never be able to find an indication of the app being there. Only he would know what he'd done and he'd have access to her 24/7.

Scrolling through the report of Ivy's past locations, he felt a sense of giddy mischief, smiling faintly as he bit on his thumb nail. He saw the address of his office and a photo of the outside. She'd been outside while the officer was questioning him, he already was aware. Ivy had also gone home. Her address was there along with a photo of her neighborhood. He'd driven by there once or twice before she'd come in for her appointment, but of course she didn't know that. He looked to see where else she'd been.

Her mother's house. He sighed. He'd never been there. She kept involving more and more people. First the cops, now her mother. She was going to force his hand, he knew it and he was so, so intrigued.

"Trying to avoid me," he mused aloud. "Won't work."

He scrolled down and saw a gas station and Patient First.

"SHIT," he yelled exiting the app. He had to call Araya. Quickly his fingers dialed her cell phone number listening intently as the phone rang twice. "Araya," he spoke when the line picked up.

"Dr. Stevens," she purred. "You don't typically call at this time unless you're looking for a little post-work fun or someone to do your dirty work," she spoke slyly. He could hear the smirk in her voice. She was going to need some tuning to put her back in her place.  "Which is it, doctor?"

"If you want a job tomorrow, you'll cut the shit and go to the address I'm sending you. My latest toy decided to get smart. I'm sure you can put two and two together. Make sure that test gets lost quickly I'll make it worth your while."

"What ya gonna gimme," she toyed.

This wasn't the time for her to go against him or play games.

"Your life.. I'll let you keep it despite the fact that I told you to watch her and you-"

"-Are in front of Patient First. As. We. Speak,"  Aren't we, Draya?"

"Hey boss," Draya spoke.

"Remember who the hell you're dealing with, Erik," Araya said boldly causing Erik's eyes to narrow. She was laying it on thick and if it were a different circumstance, he'd be extremely turned on. "I'm your number one bitch and you'd better not forget it."

The line went dead and he stared blankly at the phone.

"Hm," he mumbled dropping his towel. The bathroom was warm enough. Phone in his palm, he swiped through his apps with his middle finger, tapping iSpy. He could see that Ivy had left a Ruby Tuesdays somewhere close to her mother's home. It wasn't hard to guess where she'd be staying.

@honey-poooh @missshae @raysunshine78 @destinio1 @marvelmaree @honeytoffee @thickemadame @heykillmongerluhme @ghostfacekill-monger @killmongersmistress @soufcakmistress @eye-raq @goddessofthundathighs @blackpinup22

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Breaking Bastion

Another punishment fic for the series. He's coming after EVERY wife because they all get on his nerves lol so just wait. Written for @bastioncarterstevens-udaku

**Edit: An anon was concerned that this could read as Erik being abusive, abusing his power without Bastion's consent. Understandable, but I'd like to say that Bastion is an actual character linked above (I didn't make her up). She's one of the 11 wives of the wifey fics and she's well known as the bratty sub. Check her out. She and Erik are married and he knows her well as her dom. Also, she does consent verbally and nonverbally in this story. There are other fics with Bastion and since this was written FOR and tailored TO her, I didn't go into the specifics of describing their dynamic and safe words. But in the future, I'll include a disclaimer or something to cut down on the confusion. Maybe something like this and the people who already know can scroll pass it, I guess.

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

"You been hanging round Henny too much writing checks yo lil bratty ass can't cash," Erik grumbled, irritated. He gripped Bastion tightly by her bun and dragged her forward into his playroom, tossing her inside where she fell quickly to the floor from the force. Stepping over her, he turned on his camera and the footage immediately began to play on the living room's flat screen where the remaining ten wives were gathered. This show was mandatory viewing for all wives and Bastion would serve as the example to all that bratty behavior and explicit mention of other niggas would not be tolerated. Crushes were fine, but lately his wives seemed to go overboard.

"I leave y'all alone and this the shit y'all talk about. Y'all can't handle one dick for more than a couple hours and now you want two?" Shaking his head, this thoughts went to all the times each one of them tapped out, sweating and screaming messes. Pathetic.

"Y'all bitches want that nigga so bad, then go get him. Lil desperate asses. I'm a get a 12th wife. That simple." They hated that idea, he knew it. He had enough trouble with each wife seeming to have about three damn personalities depending on infinite factors. It was like juggling 33 women, and he struggled enough with 11. They wouldn't understand that though and he couldn't help his attraction to psycho ass bitches. Perhaps that was his problem. Charlie had been told him, but he ain't wanna hear it then.

"I ain't tell you to get up," he snapped at Bastion who was lifting from the floor. She instantly slipped back down, but he knew her annoying ass way too well. She acted up purposely when she wanted to be fucked into submission and most of the time it was fine. A little crack about his beard or head here and there, it was all good. The problem came when he heard her refer to herself as Mrs. Neverson as though she didn't have Bastion Carter Stevens-Udaku posted every-damn-where.

--

"Is he referring to Tremaine?" Charlie was shook. That's all her sisters talked about lately.

"Oh shit! How he know," Ryley gasped. She had a side bae of her own she was trying to keep low-key.

"It don't even matter. What's he gonna do about it? Nothing." Henny rolled her eyes, unphased.

"Oh you finna find that out right now, sweetheart. You hella faulty for that shit too," Erik spoke to the camera causing Henny to jump to attention. There was something in the room somewhere allowing him to hear the conversation.

"Then do something. I'm not scared of you, patchy ass nigga," Henny fussed.

"Skrr, this ain't about you right now. Shut the fuck up and listen," Erik fired back with a cut it motion to his neck.

"Aw shit," Angel's brows raised. Her man was advancing.

--

"Get the fuck up since you wanna test a nigga like I won't fuck ya tiny ass up." Bastion rose slowly to her feet and Erik's heavy hand returned to grip her bun, pushing her face towards the camera.

"Say ya new chosen name since y'all thought that shit was funny. I wanna laugh too, gone say it."

With his tight grip pulling painfully against her scalp, hesitation sat in her eyes. She was nervous, but she was talking shit before.

"SAY IT," he snarled lowly in her ear as he angled her face for the wives to see.

"Ms. Neverson," she spoke boldly. Showing off.

"Hm," he smirked. "You think that shit's cute. You want me to take my name back. You don't wanna be a Stevens or Udaku? Say the words." He waited for her lips to move but again she hesitated so he pushed her away again, heading to his collection of toys where he returned with a set of handcuffs and specially designed underwear she hadn't seen before.

"Strip," he commanded. "I don't want to," she combatted quickly.

"Bitch, if I have to say it again.. You gone regret it." Every fiber of his being meant the threat, but she'd still push him.

"I'm not afraid of you, Erik. Do what you gotta do."

"Hm," he scoffed, "Well now that I have yo consent."

He approached her and she tried to run but he grabbed her, and gripped her by the neck raising her kicking body in the air.

"When I tell you to do something.. I mean that shit. If you don't wanna be choked out on a fuckin loop.. DO what I tell you to DO." His hand squeezed her throat tightly willing to take it there. It took being choked out and shook twice before she finally agreed. By that time, she was a bit more sluggish. Her turquoise dress came off and then she reached for her matching heels.

"Nah, keep those on. Take off everything else."

The bra came off and then the underwear. Bastion stood with nothing on but her heels, diamond stud earrings, and a diamond tennis bracelet gifted from Erik himself and his eyes roamed her body in approval.

"Don't throw that shit on my floor, bitch, fold it and put it on the surface over there," he gestured to a chest of drawers. "And put these on," he threw her the panties noting her confused face. Every part of her body was committed to memory, but he still liked to gaze upon what he owned, watching her move fluidly back and forth. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't going anywhere. When she returned, new panties on, he stepped closer slapping the cuffs on her wrists, cuffing them behind her back before moving her bracelet to his pocket.

"Kneel." She completely ignored him, but that only made things more interesting. Infinite things he could do to her. He returned to his collection to grab a custom designed harness that he'd engineered himself and a 6-ft leather bullwhip.

"What? Um.. wait. WAIT NO, I'm kneeling.. See?" Her knees quickly buckled and fell to the floor, but it was far too late for that.

"I'm not afraid of you, Erik. Do what you gotta do," he mocked with a smirk before cracking his whip. "You done already said it babygirl." On one side of the harness in his hand was a moderately sized dildo and on the other side, a duster. He inserted the dildo end into Bastion's mouth and strapped it on tightly behind her head, satisfied with the occupation of her mouth.

"And this, my lovely wives," he spoke to the camera before pulling a remote from his pocket, "Is how you silence a brat. Simple. Now, Duster," he hit a button and Bast's eyes went wide as an intense buzzing came from the seat of her panties. "Do your job and clean this room. I want every surface in this room dusted from left to right. Start from the door then go around." He picked up the camera and followed her around as she walked in her heels, lowering her face and bending to sweep the attachment in her mouth over various drawers, tables, and surfaces. Pushing the button again, he smiled as she began to make muffled whimpers and groans and then she paused, swept away by the feeling in her panties. He snapped his whip hitting her ass and she jumped from the sting.

"Get to work, bitch. This ain't it." He snapped the whip across her ass again and she gasped, cleaning intently. "Good bitch. Dust all that shit.. yup," he encouraged capturing her from every possible camera angle as she worked. She looked like she was about to cum so he turned the vibration down and then off until she could move again, then he turned it back on.

"Can y'all guess the lesson in this? ..Since her mouth full and she can't talk?"

--

"Shit, you're a sadist? That's what I get," Josephine said, as the whip snapped again. Aly'sha looked at Henny who was staring down at her own nails, not wanting to look. "It's what she deserves," Aly'sha whispered unphased. She was eating Cheetos.

"You're cleaning up this house," Angel guessed enraptured by what was on the screen. Kimora was laying on Ryley's lap as Ryley stroked her hair absentmindedly. "You cleaning up this house and she need to clean up her act," Ryley said dryly, though her eyes were alight with humor. Charlie just shook her head, the same humor written on her face.

--

"That's right," Erik smirked, "And she ain't the only one. All y'all muhfuckas guilty in my eyes." A thick wooden paddle hung neatly on a far wall and Bastion's eyes followed his. She knew he'd do it. Wrapping up the whip, he switched it out for that wooden paddle.

"Now. I'm a whoop ya ass like you pledging until I think it's enough." Pushing her over the bed, she was helpless and he paused. "Let me make this clear. I don't care what the fuck you're attracted to. What I do care about is you disrespecting me and my name while you with me. You either an Udaku or you whatever the fuck, but you can't be both." He removed the vibrating panties and switched them for a vibrating toy egg which he lubricated and shoved into her vagina. Immediately she began to clench around it and writhe.

"You wanna fuck that nigga? Cool, pack ya shit and get up out my house.. Then plan that nigga funeral cuz you coming right the fuck back." SMACK. He swung hard for his first swing of the paddle and he knew it because the sound that squeaked from her spoke surprise. The pain combined with the pleasure of the vibrator would to help her see things his way. He landed another hard swing on the same asscheek with the same force and then another and another, only stopping to watch the wetness leak out of her. The endless muffled noises spoke pain and he landed yet another swing. He could do this all night.

"You been a pain in my ass forever and I can't be a pain for five minutes?" He tsked and moved to the other asscheek, evening up the tally on her deep toned skin. "You want some more? Yeahhh you want some more. You act up for this shit right? Or did you think I'd reward you with dick?"

He swung again, his laugh mocking. He probably looked like a villain to his other wives.

"How many swings was that so far," he asked into the camera already knowing the answer.

"Eleven," Ryley quickly supplied.

"One for all you bitches," Erik pointed the paddle toward the camera before swinging it again. Bast was breathing hard and loud. "Twelve for the bitch I'm finna get if y'all keep this shit up. You good babygirl?" He looked down to her tear-streaked face and held her nose shut for a few seconds before releasing it. She was struggling. He knew that gag wasn't too comfortable but it gave her something to bite down on. She shook her head, no. Aww.

"Damn, princess. Too bad."

He swung harder this time, lighting her cheeks up in ten more swings before he decided he couldn't go further without hurting her. He then massaged her cheeks in attempt to sooth the beaten areas, her wetness gushing to the bed as the egg buzzed.

"Freaky ass bitch." Unfastening the strap of the harness, he pulled the dildo from her mouth. There was a thick string of saliva stretched from her mouth to it. He pushed it back in roughly for her to gag on before tossing it to the side. "You nasty ass bitch. Roll over." He moved to grab the camera again and pointed it at her face. "Your name is..."

"Bastion..," she swallowed catching her breath, "Carter...," she gasped.

"Took too long," he said throwing her legs over his shoulder. The camera was focused on their pelvises as he stroked himself back and forth across her soaked entrance, teasing her and glossing the end and underside of his thick dick. He rubbed her wetness around his length before trailing down to her ass and breaching the rim before pushing in further, spitting to add more slip. Her mouth was stuck wide.

"You catchin flies or just preparing for this nut," he asked spitting a healthy glob. It landed in her open mouth and he laughed silently to himself. He had great aim.

"Swallow," he commanded and she did, groaning shakily, her eyes rolling back. Though her hands were cuffed behind her with her hips suspended in the air, she was still trying to grind into him and pull away at the same time, her orgasm rising to hit again. He held her hips still keeping his consistent pace.

"Nah, words. Be a good bitch and speak. Who's dick is in that ass?"

"..Yours," she breathed as he stretched her ass, hammering. He dug his nails hard into her skin.

"Nah. Say my fuckin name."

"..Y-yours.. Erik.. Daddy..," she keened.

"There you go, and who DNA you just fuckin swallow?" She couldn't help herself, she came all over him. And she had the nerve to talk about belonging to some other nigga. "You a dumbass if you think someone else could ever fuck you as good as I fuck you, this ain't even nothing."

He continued his assault on her ass as the vibrator continued. He wouldn't stop until he got his nut.

--

"Erik, she done. The lollipop is gone, stop sucking it," Charlie called. "Always extra! She can't even answer you," Angel empathized. He'd already taught her her lesson and she was on the straight and narrow. She shifted in her seat, remembering.

"At least he ain't breaking all her shit," Henny snapped angrily, flashbacks to her punishment pissing her off all over again. She touched her hair where he'd cut it.

"Shut the fuck up," Erik's voice growled making them all hot.

"MAKE ME," Henny yelled.

"I'll make you sleep in a fuckin box that's what I'll fuckin do. You gotta lotta mouth, but ya muscles don't fuckin match."

--

She said some other slick shit, but he wasn't listening. She liked to run her mouth a lot too, but that's all it was.. running her mouth, like a lawnmower. He knew how to block out the noise. All he was focused on in that moment was getting his nut. Time ticked by with him fighting off his release, liking the feeling of her stretched tight around him and finally he couldn't fight anymore. He pulled out.

"About damn time," Josephine yelled as he dropped Bast's hips, letting her limp legs fall. He pulled her bun forcing Bastion to help him by lifting as he pulled her to an upright position.

"I never wanted Tremaine," she grunted. "I just wanted to fuck him, I was curious.. that's all."

"Mhm. Be curious on these nuts. Clean my dick," he commanded and her lips attached to it quickly like two soft pillows, sucking him to his release, which she swallowed with no qualms. He grabbed her face squeezing it in his hand, her cheeks squished making her look like a chipmunk.

"I ain't even gotta fuckin ask you at this point, but I'm a ask you. What's ya fuckin name?" He looked down at her daring her to fuck up. The egg was still buzzing and that paddle could go another round.

"Bastion.. Carter Stevens-Udaku," she sighed.

@inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @panthergoddessbast @mermaidchansons @someareblindtoitsbeauty @destinio1 @killmongersmisstress @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @siriuslycollins @shesfromwakanda @heyauntieeee @muse-of-mbaku @lovemekaycee @radi0active-thoughts @drsunshine97 @blackpantherismyish @honeycoatedgld @tgigoldie @imaginewhoever @ash-moneyy @texasbama @thadelightfulone @niggarachi15 @wakanda-inspired @thehomierobbstark @bartierbakarimobisson @vanitykocaine @hidden-treasures21 @myboyfriendgiriboy @bubbly-nammu @killmvnger @phoenixxx1225 @ineffabl-y @supersizemeplz @sweetsexysavagery @sadblvckkgirl @magic-madness-heavensin @cccccx1 @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers @littlesunflwrr @wawakanda-btch @princessstevens @deepdarkred @allhailnjadaka @amethyst1993 @eriknutinthispoosy @marvelpotterlove @whorderofthepheonix

[ecoamerica]

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