#and it became almost like. a badge of honor to be like ‘well EYE know all the words 😏’ and katy perry did that thing

[katnissgirlsmakedo]

remember despacito? that was so. 😬. the state of pop music was so dire in 2017 we had to resort to a song that featured justin bieber…

[winxanity-ii]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄

╚»★«╝ 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀 𝐌𝐞𝐧: 𝐎𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚!𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ╚»★«╝

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff? angst?? Should i just create my own genre, lol

‌🇷‌🇦‌🇹‌🇮‌🇳‌🇬‌: non-explicit(?)Idk y'all i made this kinda edgy

🇵‌🇴‌🇻‌: 2nd person; You/Your

🇩‌🇪‌🇸‌🇨‌🇷‌🇮‌🇵‌🇹‌🇮‌🇴‌🇳‌: in which, the world you knew, the hierarchies you trusted, and the persona you donned are all called into question by a single, impulsive act.

🇼‌🇴‌🇷‌🇩‌ 🇨‌🇴‌🇺‌🇳‌🇹‌: 4.6k

🇦‌/🇳‌‌: Y'all forgive me, I wanted to be mean to deku🫣 also, inspired by one of my fav bloggers @yanderenightmare AMAZING Alpha!Katsuki x Omega!Reader oneshot here. Plz check it out, y'all it's so well written i wanna snort it like coke 😩❤️❤️

★·.·´🇲‌🇾‌ 🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇴‌ 🇦‌🇨‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇲‌🇮‌🇦‌/🇧‌🇳‌🇭‌🇦‌/🇲‌🇭‌🇦‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You've always known you were destined for greatness, coming from a long line of superhero alphas whose feats were the stuff of legend. From the moment you could understand the world around you, your ears were filled with tales of valor and strength, stories of how your ancestors used their formidable quirks to save lives and maintain peace.

It was no surprise, then, that on your 5th birthday, amidst the excitement and anticipation, your own quirk manifested, revealing an ability to manipulate plants, control their growth at will, and harness their natural forces.

This power was not just an extension of your being; it was a testament to the lineage you hailed from, a legacy you were born to continue.

With each passing year, your pride swelled. It became not just a part of you but defined you. By the time you presented as an alpha on your 15th birthday, you were fully entrenched in the belief system that had been passed down through generations.

The world, as you saw it, was divided among alphas, betas, and omegas, with alphas reigning supreme. To you, it was the natural order of things, a hierarchy that had always been and would always be.

High school became your kingdom, a place where you could assert your dominance, surrounded by beta and alpha lackeys who hung on your every word, eager to witness your next act of superiority.

You thrived on the attention, on the power it gave you, wearing each detention like a badge of honor, a symbol of your unyielding spirit and refusal to conform.

It was just another ordinary day when you caught sight of her, Uraraka, a small, timid omega girl trying to navigate the crowded hallway on her way to lunch. Her mere presence felt like an unwitting challenge to your authority. "Oh, Uraraka," you hissed, her name rolling off your tongue with a predatory sneer, as you backed her into a corner. "Always trying to blend in, aren't you? But we both know that's impossible for someone like you."

Her eyes widened, a clear sign of her fear, as she stuttered your name in reply, looking down with her shoulders hunched in a vain attempt to make herself smaller, to disappear from your imposing presence.

"H-Hi, L/N-san," Uraraka managed, her voice barely above a whisper, betraying the turmoil swirling inside her.

"Oh, come now, Uraraka, you don't need to be so formal with me," you cooed mockingly, watching as she curled further in on herself, as if trying to escape your gaze by sheer will. "We're just having a friendly chat, aren't we?" Your words dripped with sarcasm, each one designed to undermine her already wavering confidence.

The sight of her, so vulnerable and afraid, only spurred you on. "It's just, I can't help but notice how... out of place you seem among us. It's almost as if you don't belong here." Your tone was casual, as if you were commenting on the weather, but the underlying malice was clear.

Uraraka's response was to curl in on herself even more, if that was possible, her arms wrapping around her books like a shield against your words. Her attempt to make herself smaller, to hide from your scrutiny, only made her stand out more in the crowded hallway.

"You’re an Omega. You know that means you’re nothing to us Alphas, right? You're here for nothing but our will and pleasure," you taunted, your canines flashing in a display of undisputed dominance. The predatory glint in your eyes mirrored the sharpness of your words, each syllable aimed to wound.

"And useless—don’t forget how dumb they are without us!" chimed in one of your beta lackeys, his laughter echoing your own, fueling your disdain and sharpening your smile. His contribution was like adding fuel to the fire, encouraging you to continue the barrage of insults, enjoying the power you wielded over Uraraka with just a few cruel words.

"Yeah, always stumbling over your own feet, aren't you, Uraraka? It's like watching a toddler." Your chuckle was harsh, imbued with a cruelty that you knew hit deep. You reached out, not to pull at her hair this time, but to lightly tap her forehead, mocking her inability to retaliate. "Remember last time? When you tried to stand up for yourself? That was hilarious."

Her tears, now brimming in her wide, brown eyes, made them glisten, a testament to her vulnerability. The sight, instead of eliciting sympathy, bolstered your sense of superiority. "Y-You're so mean to m-me, Y-Y/N-chan," she hiccuped, her voice quivering like a delicate leaf in the wind, pressing herself further into the wall as if it could shield her from your words.

Your moment of triumph was abruptly interrupted by a sharp "Hey!" Turning your head, you saw him—Aizawa, an omega teacher, yet his presence commanded a respect that even the alphas hesitated to challenge.

Your lackeys, ever the cowards when actual confrontation loomed, scattered, leaving you standing alone. "Tch, pussies," you hissed under your breath, rolling your eyes at their retreating backs.

With a heavy sigh, you recognized the end of your entertainment and pushed yourself away from the tearful omega. "Here we go," you muttered, bracing yourself for the inevitable lecture. Despite Aizawa's omega status, there was an undeniable aura of authority around him, a quiet strength that demanded attention and obedience.

His face, usually impassive, now bore a frown of disappointment, his gaze barely glancing over Uraraka's tearful, shaking form before locking eyes with you. "Detention," he stated simply, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

☆

☆ Letting out a string of curses under your breath, you storm out of the detention room, the school corridors bathed in an orange glow as the sun begins to set. The scolding from Aizawa for bullying, followed by an after-school detention, didn't phase you in the slightest. What truly irked you was the inconvenience of missing the scheduled bus ride, which meant a long walk home from school.

Still simmering with anger, you couldn't help but wonder how Aizawa had managed to catch you in the act. It was usually an alpha or beta teacher patrolling the halls, and they always let you off with a mere slap on the wrist, dismissing your behavior as "growing hormones." But this time, it was different. Aizawa had given you a thorough chewing out, emphasizing how unfair it was to use your secondary gender against Uraraka and lecturing about "respect" and other ideals you tuned out with a grumble.

You couldn't help but wonder if someone had tipped him off.

As you were about to round the corner, a familiar timid voice caught your attention. "T-thank you for alerting the staff, once again."

"It was no issue, but you need to understand I'm not going to always be around. You have to start standing up for yourself," replied a voice you didn't recognize.

Curiosity piqued, you peeked around the corner only to find Uraraka standing before a stranger. From your vantage point, you could only see his back and the unmistakable fluffy green hair.

Uraraka stuttered out another thank you, giving him a short bow before hurrying away. You watched, hidden from view, as the figure turned back to his locker to pack up for the day. The sight of his side profile, as he obliviously continued with his routine, only fueled your anger further. How dare he interfere and get you in trouble? Who did he think he was? Watching him leave, you made a silent vow to remember his face, to exact revenge when the opportunity presented itself.

The encounter with the nameless savior did more than just bruise your ego; it sparked a fiery obsession within you. His unassuming demeanor and fluffy green hair, coupled with his audacity to challenge your authority, marked him as your next target.

In the weeks that followed your initial encounter, your focus on him sharpened to an obsession. Every moment not spent in class or detention was dedicated to gathering information on him.

It was during lunch one day, as you sat in the crowded cafeteria, that you spotted him again. He was on the other end, sitting alone, his lunch tray in front of him as he pored over a notebook, completely engrossed in whatever he was writing. The sight of him, isolated yet content in his solitude, piqued your interest even further.

In a moment of passing curiosity, you leaned over to a Beta—Kaminari—sitting next to you, one of the many who sought to curry favor with you. "Who's that?" you asked nonchalantly, your nod was subtle as you directed his attention towards the greenette without making it obvious.

The Beta's eyes lit up at the opportunity to provide information, eager to gain your attention and perhaps, your approval.

Darting his eyes towards the aforementioned male, then quickly back to you, a frown forms on Kaminari's face as if the topic left a bad taste in his mouth. "That's Izuku Midoriya," he said, his voice laced with a hint of disdain. "He's an Omega, but thinks he's something special. Always going on about being a hero, as if he could ever stand a chance."

Interest piqued, you continued to watch Izuku, your curiosity deepening with the Beta's every word. "He's a target for bullies, especially Katsuki Bakugou. But it's his own fault, always trying to play the hero, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," he added, his frown deepening.

The mention of Katsuki, an alpha known for his volatile temperament, intrigued you further. "Bakugou, huh?" you mused, more to yourself than to the Beta beside you.

"Yeah, and Midoriya just takes it. Never fights back. Thinks he's being noble or something," Kaminari scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. "It's pathetic, really. He's delusional, thinks he can actually challenge an alpha and make a difference."

This newfound information provided by the Beta painted a complex picture of Izuku that was both intriguing and slightly infuriating. Here was an Omega who dared to dream beyond his societal station, exhibiting a resilience and determination that was, in its own way, admirable. Yet, according to the Beta, his actions were seen as foolish, a futile attempt at heroism.

As you turned your attention back to your meal, your thoughts churned.

Your gaze lingered on Izuku for a few moments longer before you turned back to your meal, your thoughts racing. The more you mulled over the Beta's words, the more your initial intrigue twisted into disdain. Knowing Izuku was an Omega, the very notion that he dared to challenge the societal hierarchy—and by extension, you—ignited a deeper sense of animosity within you. How dare he dream beyond his station, and more audaciously, act in ways that subtly defied the unspoken rules that governed your world?

The very idea that Izuku, with his quiet demeanor and lofty aspirations, could consider standing up to the likes of you or even imagine himself as a hero was almost laughable. It was a direct affront to the natural order, to the superiority you had been taught from birth was your birthright as an Alpha. His existence, and the pitying yet somehow respectful tone of the Beta as he spoke of Izuku's heroics, felt like a challenge to your authority, to the very foundations of your beliefs.

As lunch continued, you found yourself stealing glances at Izuku, each look fueling your growing resentment. His mere presence, the way he carried himself with a quiet confidence, unaware of or perhaps indifferent to the social turmoil around him, grated on you. In your world, Omegas were subservient, not silently rebellious or aspirational beyond the roles prescribed to them. Izuku's defiance, however passive, was a blemish on the natural hierarchy you upheld.

You resolved then, with a cold certainty, to put Izuku Midoriya in his place. It wasn't just about reasserting your dominance anymore; it was about reinforcing the very principles that you believed made the world turn. If Izuku represented a challenge to those principles, then it was your duty, as an Alpha and as a defender of the status quo, to quash that challenge.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and pulling you from your reverie. As you stood up, tossing your trash into the bin, your mind was already weaving plans.

Izuku Midoriya, you're gonna learn your place...one way or another.

☆

☆

Finally, you found the right time to confront him. It was a regular day, the sun setting, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink as clubs dispersed for the evening. You had meticulously positioned yourself near Izuku's locker, blending in with the dwindling crowd, waiting for the moment he would come to pack up for home.

Sure enough, as the hallway began to empty, Izuku appeared, his steps quiet and measured. He didn't notice you at first, too focused on gathering his things. But when he turned to leave, that's when you chose to step out from around the corner.

"Midoriya, was it?" you called out, your voice loud enough to cut through the lingering chatter of departing students. You made your way closer to him, your steps deliberate, each one echoing ominously in the almost empty corridor.

Immediately, you sought to intimidate him, a tactic you knew all too well. With a swift movement, you pushed his belongings out of his hands, scattering papers and books across the floor, effectively cornering him further into his locker.

Despite the fact he was taller than you, his slouched frame made him seem as if he was trying to hide away, wanting to be anywhere else but here. His reaction was exactly what you expected, yet there was a hint of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite place—was it defiance? Courage? Or merely resignation to yet another confrontation?

"It's come to my attention that you've been playing hero again," you began, your tone dripping with mockery, each word designed to belittle. "Standing up for those who can't stand up for themselves?" You drawled the word 'hero' out slowly, inflecting it with scorn, ridiculing the very essence of heroism—a concept you found utterly ridiculous in a world governed by the strict dynamics of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas.

Your smirk widened as you leaned in, eager to see his reaction to the bait you were laying out before him.

"How dare you even think of being a hero and saving others when you can't even save yourself from a simple bully? Katsuki, if I'm not mistaken, yeah?" Your words were calculated, aiming to undermine his sense of self and heroism.

Mentioning Katsuki was a low blow, an attempt to remind Izuku of his vulnerabilities and failures. You observed him closely, looking for any sign of hurt or hesitation, any indication that your words had found their mark.

This seemed to set Izuku off. His usually slouched frame straightened, and he turned around to face you, his expression unreadable. "Everyone deserves someone to stand up for them, no matter their status," Izuku replied, his voice steady and firm, a stark contrast to the mocking tone you had used.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the nearly empty hallway. "And what about you, Midoriya? Who stands up for you?" You stepped closer, deliberately invading his personal space, aiming to intimidate. "Seems to me like you could use someone to protect you from, well, people like me."

There was a slight narrowing of Izuku's eyes, a subtle but clear indication of his annoyance or perhaps determination. However, his stance remained unchanged, unwavering in the face of your provocation. "I don't need protection. Not from you or anyone else," he declared, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that seemed to fill the space between you.

The boldness of his statement took you by surprise. It was unexpected, coming from someone you perceived to be just another Omega, someone who, by all accounts, should have been easy to dominate and intimidate.

Yet here he was, standing his ground, challenging the very foundations of the hierarchy you had been taught to uphold.

The audacity of his response fueled your anger further. With a swift movement, you pushed him into the locker, nose flaring as you gripped the front of his uniform. "Careful, Omega, you might wanna watch your tone. Because from where I'm standing, you look pretty cornered to me," you purr, your eyes narrowed to slits, expecting him to cower under your grip.

But in a flash, the roles reversed. Izuku's quick movement was wholly unexpected, and before you knew it, you were the one pressed against the wall, his forearm against your chest.

"I'm tired of people like you thinking they're so much better than everyone else because of some perceived status. Power isn't determined by your status. It's how you choose to wield it." Izuku's voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to it that cut through you. "You think you can intimidate and bully others just because you're an Alpha? That's not strength. That's weakness"

Feeling your inner Alpha bristle at this, you prepared to push him off, to reclaim your position. But then, Izuku did something completely unexpected, something that no amount of physical strength could have prepared you for.

He leaned in closer, invading your personal space in a way that was almost confrontational, yet it wasn't his proximity that disarmed you—it was the sudden wave of his Omega pheromones that enveloped you, weaving around you like an invisible force.

The scent was immediate and overwhelming, strikingly fresh and minty with an undeniably “green” essence to it. It was like standing in the heart of a rainforest just after a heavy downpour, surrounded by the lush, vibrant life of countless plants and trees, their leaves heavy with dew.

The smell of early morning grass, wet and alive, filled your nostrils, inexplicably drawing you in, making your mouth water and your gums tingle with a tender sensation as your canines instinctively elongated, reacting to the potent biological cues Izuku's pheromones were sending.

As the scent enveloped you, a warmth unfurled in your lower stomach, a sensation both foreign and intoxicating. It was as if Izuku's pheromones were reaching out, threading through your aggression to soothe and tame it, leaving you feeling unexpectedly vulnerable.

His smirk, slight and knowing, seemed to say he was fully aware of the effect he was having on you, challenging the very notion of Alpha superiority with nothing but his natural Omega essence.

"You know," he began, his voice now, carrying a weight that demanded attention, "I've been watching you. Your arrogance, your belief in your own superiority... it's quite telling."

He took a step closer, his presence enveloping you in a way that felt both intrusive and enlightening. "I've never understood why Alphas like you are so haughty, acting as if they're the epitome of strength and power."

You found yourself unable to move, not just because of the physical barrier he had placed between you and freedom moments ago, but because of the invisible hold his presence now commanded.

Izuku leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper yet loud enough to echo in the now silent hallway, carrying a mix of amusement and a hint of something more profound,. "The truth is, Alphas like you bend to the will of Omegas like me."

Before you could process his words fully, Izuku reached out, his fingers deftly catching a curl of your hair, twirling it gently. The proximity allowed him to lean in close, his nose just inches from the side of your neck, where your scent gland pulsed with a mix of emotions. The intimacy of the gesture, the invasion of personal space was disarming, and you found yourself frozen, caught in the intensity of the moment.

His eyes, a clear and penetrating gaze, met yours as he pulled back, leaving a trail of confusion and an unexpected desire for more of his insight. "Since you want to have control so bad," Izuku said, his voice lowering, laced with a challenge, "then I'll show you how it feels to lose that control." His eyes flashed the distinctive Omega yellow.

Instinctively, your eyes flashed red in response.

Yet, despite your anger and the primal urge to assert your dominance, Izuku's pheromones had done their work, leaving you momentarily incapacitated, unable to act on your aggression.

Izuku leaned down, his eyes lidding as a wicked smirk grew on his lips. "Oh, what's wrong? Not so big now, huh?" he cooed, running his nose along the slope of your scent glands, an action so intimate and provocative that it sent a shiver down your spine.

His voice, laced with a mocking tone, cut through the haze of pheromones that had clouded your senses, sharpening the humiliation of being so thoroughly outmaneuvered by an Omega.

The proximity, his scent mingling with yours, the heat of his breath against your skin—it was all designed to disorient and dominate, to showcase his control over the situation. The irony wasn't lost on you; in this moment, Izuku, the supposed weak Omega, held all the power, leaving you, the Alpha, completely at his mercy.

His actions, so bold and unyielding, were unlike anything you had ever experienced. They challenged not just your physical dominance but your very understanding of the dynamics between Alphas and Omegas. Izuku was rewriting the rules, showing you that the real power lay not in brute strength or societal labels, but in one's ability to influence and control the emotions and actions of others.

Izuku pulls back, the intensity of the moment hanging thick between you. His lips curve into a half-smile, an expression of satisfaction or perhaps amusement at the effect he's had on you. "I kinda like you like this, quiet, pliant," he hums, his gaze leisurely raking over your form. You stand there, panting slightly, a testament to the tumultuous effect his pheromones have had on you.

You hadn't anticipated the power of Izuku's natural essence to impact you so profoundly; it was as if an internal battle was raging within you. On one side, your Alpha instincts screamed for dominance, to regain control over the situation, to not be swayed by an Omega. Yet, on the other, Izuku's pheromones left you willing.

Izuku hummed to himself again, muttering practically 100 miles an hour, deliberating on what to do next. Finally, after a few moments, his eyes snapped back to you, lips pulling into a wicked smile. "Hm, since you were so willing earlier to protect me from Kaachan, how about you stay true to your words, huh?" he sarcastically asked with a tilt of his head.

Before you could react, Izuku forced your mouth open, tilted your head back, showcasing your elongated canines. It was seconds before you realized what he was doing, but before you could move, he tilted his head further, yanking you to him, making you mark his neck.

The sensation was electrifying, overwhelming every sense you had. Your body acted on its own, instinct taking over as you felt your canines sink into his skin. The moment was brief, yet it felt like an eternity, marking him in the most primal way an Alpha could claim an Omega.

The rush of emotions and sensations was unlike anything you had experienced before. Heat coursed through your veins, spreading a warmth that felt both comforting and invigorating. It was as if every fiber of your being was alive, buzzing with an energy that connected you to Izuku in a way words could never explain.

As your teeth punctured his skin, a connection instantly formed between you two, a bond that was both ancient and immediate. It was a tether that pulled you closer to him, not just physically but on a deeper, more instinctual level.

Your protective instincts, which had lain dormant, now surged to the forefront of your mind, chanting a relentless mantra of 'mine, mine, mine, mine.' This wasn't just a physical claim; it was an emotional one, marking him as yours in a way that left no room for doubt.

Your arms subconsciously tugged on Izuku, bringing him even closer, as if trying to merge him into your very essence. You bit down harder, not out of aggression, but to solidify this newfound connection, to make it known to both him and yourself that this bond was irrevocable. It was a moment of pure primal assertion, your Alpha instincts fully taking over, dictating your actions with an intensity that was almost foreign to you.

As soon as the act was done, Izuku stepped back, a hand gently touching the spot you marked, his eyes gleaming with that omega yellow. "See, not so good being on the other end, is it?" His voice was laced with a victorious tone, yet there was an undercurrent of something else—something that didn't match the triumphant look in his eyes.

You stood there, shocked, your own eyes still flashing red, a mix of anger and confusion swirling within you. The implications of what just happened began to dawn on you slowly, the reality that you just marked an Omega—a clear sign of claiming him as yours.

What were you going to do now? The school's dynamics would shift undoubtedly once word got out. Typically, the marking of an Omega by an Alpha was a significant event, often announced and accompanied by a period of courtship, a public declaration of mutual respect and intention.

But this? This was entirely different. An Alpha marking an Omega out of the blue, especially under such unconventional and unexpected circumstances, was unheard of. And not just any Omega, but Izuku Midoriya, the one Omega who had stood up to you, challenged you in a way no one else dared.

Your interactions with Izuku had been minimal at best, characterized more by conflict than any form of camaraderie or courtship. The school would be buzzing with rumors and speculation, none of which would likely be favorable or understanding of the situation's complexity.

Izuku adjusted his uniform, the wicked smile never leaving his face. "Well, I guess this changes things, doesn't it? I'm curious to see how you'll handle this." With that, he picked up his things, leaving you alone in the corridor, your mind racing with thoughts.

You were so used to being in control, to having others bend to your will. Yet here you were, outmaneuvered by an Omega who not only challenged you but also forced you into a situation that you never imagined possible.

As you watched Izuku walk away, a part of you knew this was only the beginning. You had to figure out what this meant for you, for him, and for whatever strange, twisted relationship you now found yourselves in. The school, your friends, your family—they would all have opinions on this, but for now, all you could do was stand there, trying to process the whirlwind of events that just unfolded.

This was not how you expected your day to end, marked by an Omega, your pride wounded, yet a part of you couldn't help but feel intrigued by what Izuku said. What did this mean for you? And more importantly, how were you going to face him tomorrow?

**omg y'all, i got it bad for izuku, but let me know if you'd like a part 2 👀

[swynlake-rp]

“Name’s Ronno, and these are the boys, Stab and Jab.”

FULL NAME: Angelo ‘Ronno’ Spiridakos BASED ON: Ronno (Bambi II) FACE CLAIM: Nicholas Galitzine PRONOUNS: He/Him BIRTHDAY:   12 July 1999 CURRENT STATUS: Taken

Character Information || CW: Miscarriage, Alcoholism ||

Konstantinos Spiridakos came to America on a student visa. He lands at the college in Willowdale, where he meets and befriends Wilden Lightfoot. It is many years later, however, before the Spiridakos family crosses paths with the Lightfoots, yet again. This time, it is in a place called New Mushroomton, just outside of Detroit. Konstantinos is married now, has two young children - Lyra, who's six, and Angelo, who is three - a lovely young wife, Daphne, expecting a third child, and the shine of hope in their eyes.  It is only once they set down roots, in a small apartment in an impoverished area of this small, Detroit suburb, that the Spiridakos family realizes that, perhaps, America was not the dream Konstantinos had initially believed it to be. 

The rules that governed the city itself were, to put it mildly, ugly. To put it bluntly, they were cruel. The city presented itself as Magick friendly, but the stringent rules and regulations placed upon any Magick were, oftentimes, dehumanizing. The Spiridakos children were taught early on, despite this, to wear their Magick status as a badge of honor, unable to hide it away; it was actively illegal to do so, and would have resulted in hefty consequences none in the family wished to face. 

(Satyr, while not dangerous, had been misinterpreted by myth and false information. Fun-loving, occasionally mischievous, nature spirits, they were now equated to lecherous, hedonistic drunkards. It was this misinterpretation that often found Konstantinos unable to find work, the children unable to find many friends, and Daphne so stressed about her life she lost her child.) 

Life for the Spiridakos family isn't sparkling, but it does become better upon relocating when Konstantinos finds a job - after fleeing from a group of anti-Magicks that had threatened the children, of course - and meeting Laurel Lightfoot.  Konstantinos remembers the name Lightfoot fondly. His children learn to, as well. 

The Spiridakos and Lightfoot children get along like a proverbial house on fire, Ian and Angelo, Lyra and Barley. The children played, got into (and out of!) trouble. Thick as thieves, they were, and Angelo adored his friends. When he’s about ten and Ian eight, however, Ian leaves. The Lightfoots leave. 

For a while, it leaves a bit of a rift. People Angelo cared about – Ian, Barley, his mother – kept leaving. He didn’t quite know why, if it was something about him, or just the place they lived, in general. He learned from that, though. Keep yourself a bit harsher, a bit aloof. Make yourself unapproachable, even mean, and people won’t want to hurt you. Won’t want to leave. 

For a long time, well into his teenage years, Angelo projected himself as a bully, as someone with a temper and an anger under his skin that kept people at a distance. It wasn’t until he was just out of high school, or nearly, and lonely that he realized how much he’d really lost, what he’d messed up having to hide behind thick walls and multiple layers. The only time he was himself was when he flew to Greece to visit family and his mother, when he could find her. Daphne was aloof during those visits, almost timid, like she didn’t want to know the young man her boy had grown into. Like she was afraid to face what she had left behind. He’s twenty-four, now, though. 

Angelo is steadier, calmer. Still with a chip on his shoulder, sure, but he takes it out less on the people around him, those he cares about.  When he was about twenty-two, give or take, Ian Lightfoot reached out. They spoke, reconnected. Became friends again, if you could call it a friendship.

(Angelo certainly hoped that he could).  And, well, he heard all about Swynlake.  So, he figures, why can’t he make a detour, stay for a while? Catch up with Ian properly, see what this town has to offer. Hell, maybe he’ll even decide to stay, for a little while.

✓ Talkative, forward, confident

✖  Abrasive, braggart, mama’s boy

Character Suggestions

None

Current Relationships

None

Possible Relationships

click here!

Magical Abilities

Satyr

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

I love Kamiko sm. She’s my funny little guy (she is so fucking sad)

Basically, Kamiko, the ultimate academic, is from Kamagasaki, a neighborhood in Osaka, Japan. Every character comes from a specific town in their home country (e.g Rian and Kira are from Ennis Clare in Ireland), but Kamiko’s is particularly important because the Kamagasaki area hosts a large population of homeless and impoverished people. Kamiko herself is in fact homeless, and grew up with her single mother, Ichika Miyazaki. As a child she was sent to live with her father, Kichiro Yoshioka, who at least wasn’t homeless, but he didn’t want to admit to Ichika that he wasn’t in any place to be caring for a little girl, and Kamiko’s needs were neglected as a result. Upon Kichiro finally having to own up to it and admitting he was completely failing her, Ichika was livid, and despite the couple having split up on decent terms, Kamiko never saw Kichiro again. Most adults in Kamiko’s life were well intentioned and cared about her- such as her mother and father- but she never had her needs met. This is intended to bear a resemblance to Rian’s childhood, while he wasn’t impoverished, his parents divorced at a young age and he was taught to blame it on himself, and he was also repeatedly let down and failed by everyone in his life. So while Rian is an emotionally driven but defensive person, Kamiko is detached, disillusioned and focuses on only one thing: her talent.

Kamiko’s intelligence was the only thing that helped her out of the rut she’d been born in. It’s hard to ignore the sad little homeless girl when she’s reading at near college levels while just around the corner of sixth grade, and Kamiko became a spectacle, something to admire and be put on a pedestal. She wasn’t ignored. Kids didn’t feel so free to try to bully wimpy little Kamiko. She knew for a fact that her parents were proud of her, and she could see a future beyond cheap hotels and fantasizing about leaving the city. Her intellectual prowess was her one leg up on life, and she was not going to lose it. She began staying hours late after school, entering competitions, joining quiz bowl teams, her whole life became about her success and it became her obsession. She taught herself to braid her hair and began regularly wearing it like that so she could look as proper and intelligent as possible. She stopped caring about her social life and kids who were once her friends felt pushed away and made fun of her for her nerdiness. In fact, she was made fun of a lot, but she never let them shake her pedestal. She became nothing but a paragon of perfection. Not even a person.

When Kamiko found out that Hope’s Peak Academy was sending out scholarships for Class 79, she set her sights on the academy, and knowing she could never, ever afford the reserve course if they even reopened it, she did everything in her power to be worthy of an ultimate. Months after the announcement, after almost a year of Kamiko fighting tooth and nail for the academy’s recognition, the letter she was damn near praying for despite being an atheist was slipped in under her motel room’s door, offering her a fully paid scholarship to Hope’s Peak under the title of the Ultimate Academic. She wore that like a badge of honor, it was everything she’d worked for. But arriving at the academy, so many of them just seemed like they didn’t care. They didn’t deserve to be there. Not like Kamiko did. She resented them, having been, in her eyes, all easily offered the opportunity she had to give up everything for, no doubt because several of them- Heiran, Lukas and Alice come to mind- came from rich families. But above all she resented Rian, who didn’t belong, didn’t think he belonged, wasn’t worthy of being there, hadn’t done anything to warrant it, didn’t deserve the praise, hated himself, was below everyone else, was below Kamiko. But he hadn’t needed to fight like she did. This was how their rivalry began. Rian’s insecurities caused Kamiko to hate him as they embodied her resentment, and vice versa. They projected onto each other, fought, they were petty and bitter, constantly trying to knock the other down. But Kamiko isn’t the antagonist of the story, not really. That goes to… well, the role is spread between her, Heiran, and Luke. But she’s 100% on the others’ side, and only appears cold and cruel because she’s learned to prioritize survival and success over well being and encourages others to do the same, which is well intentioned, and because of her resentment for how she had to fight to get here, and the way that she and Rian project their issues onto each other, which skews the audience’s view as they see her through Rian’s eyes.

Kamiko is a humble and determined person who puts survival and success above all else. That’s really who she is at the end of the day, but focusing so much on the “one good part of her life,” she ultimately is rejecting her own needs and well being, and seeing herself as subhuman. When she falls in love with Minori, it’s a confusing thing for her, because she feels she doesn’t have the right to a relationship. Idolization is a form of dehumanization, and when you only see yourself as the version of you others have on a pedestal, well…

Kamiko has a full arc given she doesn’t fucking die, though her death was reused for the other character intended to die there, as it was originally a double murder and they didn’t get off so easy. For her it’s all about seeing herself as a person, but also facing her love for others, shown both with Minori and Rian. She has a super emotional scene with Rian near the end once they’ve begun to put things aside and become friends, when Rian puts his life in danger to save Alice’s, and Kamiko, despite her overbearing survival instinct to run and save herself, stays and calls for help and waits, hoping, begging that he’ll survive. When Rian finally returns, heavily injured, struggling to breathe and stumbling under the weight of Alice leaning on him for support, he insists Alice get help first, nearly collapsing to the ground trying to breathe and remove some of the weight of his clothing from his body and process all the horrible things that have happened, and when his legs begin to give out, there’s Kamiko, grabbing him, lifting him from under his arms and clutching his button-down shirt, it takes Rian a moment to process because for a moment he mistakes her for Kira, and for a moment he’s caught in a shocked sort of delusion, before it dawns on him where his sister really is and whose arms are around him and Kamiko, despite her cold nature and low empathy and relationship skills, despite everything, doesn’t even try to scold him. She holds him tightly, whispering so her voice doesn’t break and cause her to fall apart, and tells him it’s okay, because he was there it’s okay, Alice is safe, he just needs to stay with them and she’ll help him, and everything will be okay because of him. And Kamiko, who doesn’t believe in miracles, who doesn’t think it “rational” to be caught up in grief or what-ifs or be overwhelmed by emotion even in the face of losing someone you love, who even got angry with Masumi and yelled at him for being desperate not to let his only friend die, insisting that none of them wanted this to happen but there was nothing they could do, who never thought she’d escape and was ready to just survive, stoic, stone cold Kamiko cries softly, and tells him one last thing. Thank god you’re alive, Rian.

Sorry I’m hella emo over them. The relationships between the survivors are everything to me I wish I could explain more without spoiling everything 😭😭 seriously though Kamiko and Rian love each other so fucking much it wrecks me. They probably would have never gotten to know each other, they would have eventually learned to tolerate each other but never been friends, if not for the killing game, in the attempt to destroy their hope and lives they found each other and they learned to care. Rian loves Alice as well, and heck, so does Kamiko, but Rian is literally in love with Alice, and still, Kamiko and Rian’s relationship is so, so deeply important to both of them.

A few extra tidbits about Kamiko before I stop dragging this on: in her sequel design two years later, she has loose and short hair, since it represents- especially in Japan- a fresh start, or the end of an era, and when initially drafting her I didn’t want her dynamic with Rian to have any possible romantic reading, so I made her canonically a lesbian, which I also pulled with Minori, and then I was like Hey. These Two Are Kinda Gay. And then I ran with it.

Idk if there's something wrong with me or if I just need to stop relating to dark fucked up stories, but how tf is Kamiko so similar to me like-

Rian's my fav, but I probably relate to Kamko the most, especially the part about her not considering emotions to be rational, as I tend to look at almost every situation analytically to avoid feeling anything, or getting attached so I don't get hurt, and look at everything from a logical point of view, so I'm not that emotionally intelligent

Might be because of trauma but idk-

Oh, and also lesbian ffjhgjdhjkdsdf-

[infiinitys]

⸻  JOSH SEGARRA. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of WAY DOWN WE GO by KALEO, well, it describes GABRIEL RIVAS to a tee! the thirty-seven year old, and DEFENSE ATTORNEY was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more cold or more OBSERVANT instead? anyway, they remind me of freshly-pressed suits, avid preparation for his next court appearance, nothing less than perfection & hiding a heart held together by superglue, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MEL / THEY/THEM / TWENTY-TWO / EST / NO TRIGGERS ] 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 : law enforcement, divorce, guns, death, gang involvement, murder, arson

 ⸻  𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

Gabriel never really grew up with much. His home in Brooklyn was ordinarily bustling. He as the eldest Rivas child was essentially tasked with being the third parent, watching over his three younger sisters with a protective eye.

He did not remember a time in his childhood when his parents were both located in the same house at once with the rare exception of the occasional dinner. His father worked nights while his mother worked as an elementary school teacher... during the day.

His father was never known as gentle. Not to his son, not to his daughters. He ruled their home with an iorn fist and expected his children to mold like clay into the design that he intended. Nothing less than perfection was expected, especially considering his hard work.

By the time Gabriel turned sixteen, he had a very clear-cut routine. School. home. homework. helping his sisters with their homework. By seventeen his parents were sitting them down to tell him and his sisters that they were filing for divorce.

Claudia and Oscar Rivas had always been in a marriage of convenience. Perhaps it may not have been that way b.k. ( before kids ), before the weight of the world began to crush them down. Even still, they had been each other's meal ticket. Four children later, they realized they needed to be apart in order to be themselves.

Gabriel's decision to enter the police academy was perhaps much like his parents marriage, a decision of convenience. However, he found a sense of pride in being a protector, keeping the city of New York safe.

He proved himself to be a useful asset to the NYPD and had all the potential to become a detective. He did exactly that, finding himself working in the Organized Crime unit. He fell in love. He was finally living and working for himself, still setting aside some money to help with his sisters.

It was practically impossible for him not to fall in love with his ex-wife. A tech analyst with a quick wit and an incredible mind, it was no secret that she had many different suitors to choose from. And yet, she too found herself fixated on the young, passionate detective.

The two were married a year later, perhaps almost the exact date. They were happily in love, Gabriel wearing his wedding ring almost as if it was a badge of honor.

Only a handful of months later, Gabriel learned that his wife was pregnant. The onrush of emotions was one that he not expected, both fear and excitement. Fear that he could turn out like his own father before him, but exciting knowing that if he worked hard enough, he wouldn't be.

When he was told he had a daughter, something in him burst with pride. After spending most of his childhood raising his sisters, he knew that no harm would ever come to his little girl, Zara. At least, that was what he believed.

In Organized Crime, Gabriel fought against some very powerful people. Individuals who believed that they could escape capture with cash and a million-dollar smile, without even understanding the horror they left in their wake.

One particular group controlled most of New York City's drug trade at the time, and they were not against taking down those who stood in their way. In this case, Gabriel's family became a target.

When Gabriel was on duty, a gang member set the house alight. Not only did he lose all of his material possessions in the fire, but both his wife and daughter died from injuries sustained.

With nothing left to lose, Gabriel tried his hardest to get back on the case. Despite his protests, his captain removed him. If he couldn't close the case that took everything from him, Gabriel saw no point in staying on the force and handed in his gun and badge the day after his removal.

Following his resignation, Gabriel packed his bags and moved to Notting Hill, his sisters hot on his heels overwhelmed by worry. He had taken care of them nearly all their lives and now they believed it was time for them to take care of him.

His wife had grown up in Notting Hill and had never stopped speaking about it -- so it was always his dream to see the place that she loved so much. He had hoped it would be together, but now he understands.

His grief has become less painful now, finding comfort in the memories that they shared. What it has been replaced with is a sense of anger at himself. Why couldn't he protect them? What if he had been there?

His first three years in Notting Hill were spent enduring some soul searching, going as far as going back to school. Something in Gabriel knew that he would always have to be in law, that it was in his blood and that doing anything else felt wrong.

It is during this time that he has come to terms with himself and his bisexuality. Growing up he had the image of the perfect life shoved down his throat. A wife, a white picket fence, 2.5 children. Now, he has realized that he only wants to love naturally, with no apologies. If he finds himself seeing a life with someone, it won't matter the gender.

⸻  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

His coldness is most certainly a front. To those who get past his walls, he will genuinely care for and do anything for them.

Even if he's only been practicing for a couple years, Gabriel is known as a shark. His time is very valuable and over the years has become very expensive.

Wears a "Z" necklace underneath his suits every day, just to keep the memory of his daughter close by. He believes that she gives him strength.

His dating life has been rather casual since his loss, not able to find someone he can commit to. It's partially out of fear of losing them again, but making a connection has become increasingly difficult.

more to come.

⸻ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

TBA

[ushidoux]

Be My Last - Iwaizumi x  Reader (Pt. 2)

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~2.3k words)

Warnings: nsfw, poor communication tbh, angst?

A/N: There’s always trouble in paradise.... 

So I haven’t written a plot-heavy fic in a while. Anyway, I hope this is as dramatic as I intended it to be but not excessive.

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

---

Your phone vibrated loudly, nearly falling off the edge of your office desk but before checking the text, you were already scooping your personal items into your messenger bag and rising to leave the office.

Iwa had intended to meet you after work to grab dinner together before going home, and you quickly glanced at your phone to confirm his arrival while you made your way down multiple flights of stairs (turns out having an athletic trainer as a boyfriend made you a lot more fitness-conscious) to meet him in front of the large skyscraper.

You met him only slightly out of breath, hoping he hadn’t waited long, and he grinned as he saw you, arms uncrossing to take your bag from you and greet you with a kiss on the forehead.

“How was today? More good news?” You inquired cheerfully, linking your arm around his tightly as you started walking. He hummed, his pace still leisurely and his other hand casually resting in his pocket in mock humility.  

“What, I haven’t impressed you enough?” He teased with a laugh, earning him a playful slap on the shoulder. Learning that he was going to be head athletic trainer for the Japan National Volleyball Team just last week was still fresh, and while you were excited for him, you were a tiny bit apprehensive about how much it would change his schedule. Even though he was already quite busy, you’d gotten used to Iwa’s schedule being predictable and being home every night, especially once he’d moved in with you about a year into your relationship.

While this new position was the biggest event on the horizon, quite a lot had changed since you’d met Hajime and lowered your emotional defenses to let him in, and that simple fact was evident by the way your hand unconsciously snaked down the length of his arm to interlace your fingers with him, as you continued to tell each other about your days.

He’d always impressed you from the very moment you met him. His confidence, his pure kindness and his genuine love for you were only a few of the things that made you love him wholeheartedly. The only regret that you had these days was that you hadn’t met him sooner, or rather, first.

Now, back in the quiet of the apartment you’d lived in for almost four years now, you and Iwa were locked in an embrace shrouded by the steam of an excessively warm shower. Despite the fact that you felt heavy with a generous dinner, the current somewhat pleasant turning of your stomach had more to do with the expert way Iwa’s fingers worked your center without compromising attention to your lips and tongue.

Soft moans of his name earned you the privilege of being gently lifted and pressed back against the shower tile, to leverage you steadily against the pressure of his heavy cock pushing past your walls into you as many times before. 

He always knew where to touch and what to fill. 

It occurred to you again as he coaxed one orgasm then another out of you with firmly delivered strokes, aided by the slick coming from your legs and the water that ran over the two of you, that you loved him. Fully and without reservation.

Especially when he pulled back to look at your flustered, wanting face, slightly tilted upwards to look at him with eyes enamored, your body fitting him like a glove, and you could practically see his heart swell.

A reckless, all-encompassing sort of love.

---

“This is… a lot of food,” your friend pointed out with raised eyebrows as she watched you toss possibly a 15th packet of thinly sliced marbled beef for shabu shabu in your cart before moving along to the condiment section. You were grateful that she was accompanying you on this errand because even though you enjoyed grocery shopping, it seemed like you’d been here for a lot longer than you expected and you weren’t too familiar with most of the ingredients on the long grocery list you’d brought with you.

Besides, the cart was overfilled and you felt that eventually you’d need two hands to push it.

“Iwa wants to invite I don’t know even know how many hungry athletes into our tiny apartment, so I’m just trying to be prepared,” you shrugged.

“By buying the entire butcher shop?”

“Yes.”

“He better be paying at least, this looks expensive,” she murmured, only to open her mouth in a teasing ‘O’ once you flashed Iwa’s credit card in her face with a grin.

Amused, she tossed a pack of vermicelli noodles in the cart then let out a loud, wistful sigh before leaning on the shopping cart handle. You frowned in response, knowing exactly what that sound entailed. 

“So when did Oikawa say he’d be back?”

She let out an aggravated groan. “Not for months and then by the time the Olympics start, he’ll be even more busy… This shit is so annoying, to be honest. It’s like he’s never off season!”

You tiptoed to reach a highly placed bottle of shoyu and another of rice vinegar and drop it in your cart. You sympathized with her frustration, you had known intimately once what it was like to be made second priority, even if that wasn’t your life now.

“At least you know he would still choose you over volleyball, no matter how much he loves it,” you reassured her.

You had said the statement without any deeper intended meaning, but when you turned your friend was still eyeing you carefully, concern written in her knit eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she replied, deciding to drop it. But two paces later, she paused to a standstill, and asked, “Do you know exactly who Iwa is inviting over?”

You shrugged your shoulders again. “Honestly, I don’t care, it’s not like I follow sports anymore.”

To that, she replied with a soft hum of assent before choosing to talk about dessert instead.

---

Seated at a corner table at the small coffee shop at the base of his hotel, Ushijima Wakatoshi looked carefully at the email invitation, noting the address more carefully this time, a wash of unsettling nostalgia rushing over him.

You wouldn’t notice it from the neutral expression on his face, but ever since he had made it back to this side of Tokyo, the concern of going back in time and revisiting old mistakes weighed heavy on his mind. Of course, he was excited about his new accolades and the opportunity to represent his country nationally, but with few people to share that news with, the reminder of what he had sacrificed to get here seemed less like a badge of honor and more like a condemnation. 

For someone who insisted on moving forward, no matter what the pace or price, this was a particularly unwelcome feeling. 

And of course, this sentiment was made way worse when it occurred to him that he was being invited to his old home as a guest. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure - while the apartment building itself was definitely the same one where he had lived so many years ago, he wasn’t completely sure whether or not the floor and suite number were the same. It would be an odd coincidence that Iwa lived there too now, but it was a nice apartment building after all, so he assumed it must be a popular place to live.

Still, he couldn’t help the mild uneasiness he felt at the prospect of turning up on that street.

What if by some unfortunate twist of fate, he ran into you? Whether in the lobby, sharing the elevator, maybe even in passing at the konbini where previously he’d surprise you with a custard taiyaki or melon bread to eat in the dead of night... What would he say? What could he say?

He had once practiced some silly assortments of words, many times ages ago when the ache in his heart for you became too much to bear and he thought maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too selfish to ask to come back into your life. He would come up with ways to explain why he’d decided it was better to remove himself from your life altogether over putting aside more time for you, or to explain that he’d made the decision for both of you in order to free you to be loved properly by someone else. 

But the more time passed, the more ridiculous it seemed for him to try to ask you to forgive him for breaking your heart, and now three years had gone by. 

Was three years enough time for you to forgive him for ending things without explanation? Or for moving out of your apartment while you stayed over your best friend’s house for an entire weekend so that he wouldn’t see you cry?

Ushijima took another sip of his coffee. He was overthinking it; the similar address was just a happenstance. You had probably long since moved on from that apartment just like you’d moved on from him.

---

Paper plates, forks, knives and napkins were set aside on your living room table, and you’d cleaned out the patio to allow for more space on the thankfully warm spring evening. Iwa had rushed out with a kiss on the cheek to go get some ice after helping you set up everything, and now you were waiting, hotpot soup base boiling on the stove.

You’d finished just a half an hour before six, and you leaned over the kitchen counter to browse through your text messages. One had just popped up from your friend before you heard an early knock on the front door.

Surprised at the prospect of someone showing up early, you put down your phone and sauntered over, and without even checking the keyhole to see who was standing there, you swung open the door wide, cheerfully giving a warm “Welcome!”, only to find yourself staring your ex-boyfriend in the face.

There was a pause where it seemed like everything that kept your heart beating and your neurons firing had turned off for the split second it took you to recognize him. This was disregarding the fact that he too looked like all the blood had drained from his face when he also realized you were standing right before him. 

“___…,” he pronounced in shock.

The sound of his voice calling your name made your heart pound and your head pound and quickly, impulsively, you moved to slam the door.

Reflexively, he blocked it with his palm, not meaning it as aggression, but spurred by the fear of immediately being locked right back out of your life, where he belonged.

“Wait, can we please talk?”

The desperate tinge to his voice was too much to bear.

It had been three fucking years! Why now?

But instead of forcing the door closed against him again, you found yourself running into your bedroom and locking the door behind you, heart pounding in your ribcage in a frenzy. It was hard to think, maybe you were being a little bit too dramatic, but you couldn’t help the panic pumping through your veins.

Relax, relax, relax.

Ushijima, too, immediately forgot that this was no longer his home.

Even if he knew this place like the back of his hand, he recognized the same sofa in the center of the living room, where he’d held you and had you just like every other place in this wretched space, it was no longer his.

It didn’t stop him from breaching the entrance without your invitation, boldly following after you just to knock on the bedroom door that kept you safe and secure, begging for your attention.

“Please, ___. Please, can we talk?”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that he was in fact in the right place, this was his - no, your shared apartment - and traces of another man, Iwaizumi, were all over it.

Your voice was choked up in your throat but you weren’t yet crying, however you were terribly frustrated. Frustrated that three years after a breakup you were taking shelter in your own bedroom all because your ex showed up at your door. Frustrated that he wasn’t being mean, but instead he was being kind; in fact, you were worried there was a wisp of something more you could see in the pained look he had on first regard.

Too much.

Ushijima knocked again.

“Please.”

The correct thing to do would be to face him properly and ask him to take a seat and maybe if you were feeling extra generous, ask him how he was doing politely, limiting yourself to polite conversation, but instead you didn’t say a single word, biting your lip to hold back anger and hurt.

Three years and you were still like this.

“___!”

His voice raised this time, and again the desperation was clear and tugging at your heartstrings, but you would be damned if you were going to move from this spot. He didn’t bang on the door though - Ushijima always had too much self control to do anything fear-provoking out of anger, but he let out a heavy sigh you could hear directly from the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry-” 

Whatever he planned to say was cut short by the slam of the front door and Iwa’s harsh voice yelling, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Your eyes grew wide as you heard the shuffle of quick moving feet and the thud of bodies hitting the wall, and then you realized that what this looked like was way worse than it actually was.

You fumbled to unlock the door only to see Ushijima pressed against the wall, hands to his side but fists clenched as though he were deciding whether to fight back; you could tell Iwa had already landed a heavy blow from the red spot blooming on his face, and the fact that Iwa still had a solid grip on the collar of Ushijima’s shirt, his fist still dangerously close to his face.

“Hajime!” You yelled, pulling at his arm. “Stop!”

He resisted your plea for him to stop initially, and you could tell he was seething even if he was still. Who wouldn’t be, if they thought their girlfriend was being accosted in their own space?

“T-toshi wasn’t going to do anything… we’re exes.”

Exes?

Iwa gave you a blank look, taking in the info all at once, but what stunned him the most at this very instant was the painfully familiar way you’d said Ushijima’s name.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Into My Body, You Just Fold

Floyd Talbert x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, optional!smut (poorly written dirty talk, lite name calling/degradation), OOC Tabbykins, mutual pining, drunken love confessions, Reader has an unfaithful husband (but OMC isn’t the worst), period-typical restrictions of women’s rights, not vv good writing tbh, and no-no words (per usual)

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As terrible a person it made you to admit as much- you didn’t think you could imagine life without Floyd Talbert.

 You’d promised yourself at a young age that you’d never be one of those women who needed a man to complete them, far too disenchanted by the sight of your friends losing their fire and spark upon marrying their husbands. Your father had raised you with the same permissive encouragement as he had your brothers, something that horrified your mother so much that she eventually stopped inviting you to her happy home with her new husband altogether.

Now that you were older you realized that marrying Frederick had been your desperate attempt to win back your mother’s love and approval, much more than your marriage had been for any sort of actual love towards your husband. 

 You’d tried, though. 

Frederick was funny and charming and could get along with anyone. He was driven and supportive, and he always made sure that you knew how much you meant to him. You should’ve been able to love him easily and completely.

But you didn’t- You couldn’t when, more often than not, he came home smelling of liquor and another woman. 

Sometimes several other women.

It became abundantly clear to you that, as much as you meant to him, you clearly weren’t enough to keep him from straying.

 Which is why you found your love for someone like Floyd so….unexpected.

 Upon first meeting him you’d hated him, obviously. He was just like Fred, no- he was worse than Fred because at least Frederick made some effort to hide his infidelities from the world. 

If anything, Tab flaunted his conquests like a badge of honor. It made your skin crawl.

Not that your dislike for him did anything to deter him, of course. 

 On the contrary, he seemed to take it as a challenge.

 It also didn’t seem to matter much that you were married. The ring you wore on the same chain as your dog tags seemed to deter any other potential suitors- and if for some reason that didn’t dissuade any overly-confident troopers, your marksmanship and reputation nipped any nonsense in the bud. 

Not Floyd Talbert, though. 

It didn’t matter where you two were- Tab made it his personal mission to win you over. He flirted with you on the boat ride to England, in the plane as it soared towards Normandy, in the middle of a gunfight on the way to Eindhoven. Hell, he’d even tried to charm you while recovering from a stab to his gut.

 The boy was shameless.

 If you had to narrow it down on a timeline, things had become more sincere and less childish in Eindhoven- when you’d gotten mobbed by a group of drunk and curious men who’d wanted to see more of the lone woman sniper of the 506th.

Floyd had appeared from nowhere and helped you wrestle your gun away from one of the idiots who’d attempted to divest you of it. He’d wasted no time in taking his own helmet from his head and placing it onto your own upon realizing that yours had been taken, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and guiding you from the throngs of people while you shook from leftover adrenaline.

 He’d kissed you that day after he had been unable to get you to refocus on him and stop you from hyperventilating. 

You’d stood stock still for a few seconds, mind scrambling to process the gentle feeling of his lips on yours as well as the fact that you were no longer tossing in the sea of people you’d been lost in moments ago.

When he’d pulled back, you could only gape at him like an idiot.

 “W-why did you—?”

Floyd’s rough hands had come up to hold your face, taking a deep breath of his own before replying.

“I, uh…” he had stammered for a moment before shaking his head quickly and clearing his throat. “I was trying to get you to snap out of...just trying to get you back.”

 After that, things had progressed pretty quickly.

 He’d stopped seeking out any female company other than yours- not that you’d noticed at the time- spending the few nights of freedom he was afforded with you while you would ritually take apart and clean your rifle, talking with you about anything and everything. He had a knack for making you laugh harder than anyone ever had before.

Sometimes you’d talk about serious things, like your families or past loves or the foolish hopes you both had had before the war.

 Every so often, he’d ask you about Frederick.

 Thinking about Fred made you uncomfortable. Unhappy. 

 But because Floyd had been so honest with you, you tried to be honest with him as well.

No matter how innocently the questions began, they always ended with Floyd furrowing his brows and saying your name softly enough that you couldn’t help but hesitantly meet his imploring gaze. He’d always ask some variation of the same question:

“Why did you marry him?”

 Most nights you didn’t answer. Some nights you were able to deflect the question well enough that eventually you both fell into a different conversation altogether. One night you’d been in a bad mood and snappily asked him an uncomfortable question of your own.

“Why do you have such a hard time keeping it in your pants whenever a pretty girl is around?” 

That always shut him up. And, despite the fact that you could feel the upset rolling from Tab in waves, he never left. 

 That night, you had taken his fist between your hands and uncurled his fingers. You had felt his eyes on you as you purposefully dug your thumbs into his palm to ease the tension you found, eventually turning his hand over so you could carefully trace your fingertips over his war-calloused knuckles.

“That was unkind,” you had whispered, guilt churning your stomach when at the hurt you knew you had caused. His grey-blue eyes were curious as you hesitantly looked up at him, and once you had met his gaze you’d almost lost your train of thought.  “I’m sorry, Tab.”

 You hadn’t been expecting him to kiss you again, but even as he had you didn’t immediately stop him. 

It was only when he had started to pull you closer that you quickly pulled away. Your breathing had become heavy, and while you didn’t let go of his hand you still said his name admonishingly under your breath. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” you’d whispered, unable to look at him and electing to look at your feet as you brought your hand up to press your fingertips against your still-tingling lips. “You- you know I’m….you know why I can’t—”

“I know,” Floyd’s voice was low, and despite the fact that you weren’t looking at him you’d been able to see the grimace on his face. “I just….I know. I’m sorry, Y/N”

You’d cleared your throat, pulling your hand away from his and giving him a tight smile. 

“No need to apologize. Let’s just forget about it, yeah?”

Without waiting for his response, you’d gone back to the table where you had been working on your gun, desperate for a distraction.

“So, uh, what was it that you were saying about your brother? He’s graduating high school soon?”

 Despite Floyd’s willingness to play along, you had been unable to stop thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. You wondered if this was what happened to Frederick- if this rush of adrenaline after doing something you shouldn’t was what he was chasing each time he went home with someone else.

You’d never known guilt could be so heady. In that moment, you’d started to realize just how dangerous this friendship with Tab could be.

But even then, you’d also had a sinking feeling that you weren’t going to be able to give him up, That you were no better than Frederick.

Taking your oiled rag back into your hands, you’d scrubbed the metal o-ring of your piston and tried not to think too hard about what this revelation said about you.

~

It had been during a 48-hour pass that he’d asked the question about Fred for the very last time, after you’d each finished a bottle of sweet French wine while sitting on the floor between two beds of the hotel room.

That night, you’d given him a sad smile and gestured half-heartedly with your canteen as you brought it to your lips.

 “Because I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Because…. I didn't think I was allowed to say no.”

He’d stared at you sadly, clenching his jaw a few times before clearing his throat and letting his head loll back to rest against the side of the bed. 

 “Ask me again.”

 You’d frowned at him, confused as to what he was asking you to say. Your silence must’ve given away your lack of understanding, because he laughed humorlessly before closing his eyes.

“

Ask me why I can’t keep it in my pants….'round pretty girls….”

“Oh-kay…?” you’d said slowly, leaning back and stretching your legs out in front of you. “Why can’t you keep it in your pants?”

 With a bit more effort than it probably should’ve taken, Tab twisted his body so the back of his head was resting in your lap, the strands of his hair ticking the skin of your thighs where your sleep shorts had bunched up.

 “Same fuckin’ reasons.”

 In the dim light of the hotel room, you’d been the one to kiss him, your lips trembling with heartbreak on his behalf and complex (if not unbidden) emotion. Floyd sat up so you weren’t having to hunch your body over to reach him, carefully wrapping an arm around your waist as he shifted your bodies so neither of you had to strain to reach the other. Despite Floyd being Floyd- he didn’t kiss you greedily, the plush of his mouth soft as it followed your gentle rhythm without any sign of wanting more than you were willing to give. 

 Once he’d realized that you had begun to cry, Tab broke the kiss carefully, and he had reached a gentle hand up to brush your tears away, a sad smile crossing his face.

“Now, isn’t that a sight?” he’d whispered. “Never had a girl cry for me before. Don’t think I like it much…’specially when that girl’s you.”

 He’d allowed you to cry for him, allowed you to cry for yourself and all of the hurt and pain you’d been holding inside of your chest for what felt like decades. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you had woken up the next morning you felt his fingers combing through your clean hair as you both lay sprawled out together on the floor. At some point, one or both of you had pulled the bedding from the bed’s mattresses and tangled yourselves in the soft fabric.

 “Is it bad that I wish I’d met you first?” Floyd had asked, his voice a warm rumble as you rested your head on his chest.

“Yeah,” you’d admitted, scratching your nails lightly across his shirt-covered stomach. “But I’m much worse for agreeing with you.”

 As he turned his body so he was leaning over you, his hand came up to rest on your collarbone while his eyes danced across your face.

 “You’re beautiful….too beautiful to be ruined by someone like me, I think.”

You’d frowned, bringing one of your hands up to trace his mouth with your fingertips.

“Oh, Floyd- you can’t ruin what was already spoiled.”

 Tab then lowered himself so his nose brushed against yours, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Can’t I?”

~

Even thinking about it now broke your heart.

Now, nearly two years after the war had ended.

Now, living in the house you’d once shared with Frederick.

Now, as you lay in bed and watched Floyd brush his teeth in the bathroom of the home you shared.

 Fred had last written to you five months ago, telling you that he was probably going to be in Japan for at least another six months before he could even apply to come back to the states. 

Despite the fact that he claimed his senior ranking in the Navy and his responsibilities to oversee prisoner exchanges were the ‘sole reason for his prolonged absence, you knew that it was probably more a case of him not wanting to return to a life of expected monogamy that kept him away.

Not that you minded one bit.

Not when you had Floyd.

 You hadn’t expected him to want to stay with you, in the literal sense or in the more metaphorical sense of commitment, yet he’d barely let you finish your offer before he agreed emphatically.

If you were truly being honest with yourself, you hadn’t imagined that he’d even want to stay after you’d slept with him the first time, shortly after returning to the states. 

 But he had. He had stayed.

 You’re ripped from your thoughts when you realize that the sound of Floyd brushing his teeth has stopped, and when you shook yourself from your trance you realized that he had caught you staring at him. Judging by the smug look on his face, he’d finished getting ready for bed a while ago, and when you begin to blush he crosses his arms across his chest and leans against the doorframe.

 “You know, ma’am,” he smirks as you clear your throat and pick at your nails embarrassedly. “It’s not wise to stare at a man like that unless you’re willing to face the consequences….”

You snort a laugh despite yourself, furrowing your brows and looking back to him with a dumb grin on your face. “Oh yeah? And what consequences would those be, Sir?” 

His eyes darken with a flash, having made it very clear long ago how much he liked it when you called him that. You cannot help but smirk at his clear shift in arousal.

 He pinches his bottom lip as he considers you- something that you couldn’t deny made your heart race with dark promise. Wetting your own lips, you lean back onto your elbows and watch him watch you.

Quirking his brow, he tilts his head and pushes himself from the doorframe to stalk to the foot of the bed and brace his arms against the mattress so he’s nearly leering at you.

 “Oh Lovely, I think I’m gonna have to show rather than tell.”

~Smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

You shook your head in amusement, a smile breaking across your lips as he crawled his way up your body- his softening hands smoothing your silky nightgown up your thighs and stomach as he did so. A low, pleased curse rumbled low in his throat at your lack of underwear, smiling against your skin as he ducked down to kiss your hips and soft stomach while completing his journey.

 “I knew it was only a matter of time before I convinced you to stop wearing underwear to bed,” he says warmly, encouraging your thighs over his own while he kneels between your legs.

You can’t help but scoff at the wording of his observation.

“Yeah, if that’s what you’re calling ruining all of my expensive undergarments with your impatience, then yes Floyd, you’ve thoroughly convinced me to forgo underwear.”

 With an easy familiarity, Tab slips his hands under your nightdress and ghosts his blunt fingernails over the swell of your breasts, smirking at the goosebumps his touch elicits across your bare skin.

You lift your shoulders off of the bed enough to bring the bunched-up nightdress up and over your head before tossing it somewhere on the floor beside you, allowing your eyes to drift shut as he bows his head to kiss at your nipples in near-reverence. His hands map the rest of your body in a cycle that only he can predict, the sound of his skin brushing against yours paired with the warmth of his palms and mouth relaxing you in a way that no hot bath or soft bed ever could.

Floyd groans as you rake your fingers through his hair, allowing you to guide his face up to yours for a slow, imploring kiss before one of his hands slips in between your legs and massages at the lips of your sex.

 “Was I taking too long, Sweetheart?” he asks against your lips, his voice growing rough with need. “How long have you been this wet?”

 You don’t answer, choosing rather to roll your hips into his touch. Your breath catches in your throat at the first swirl of his middle finger over your clit, something that he does again with a smug hum against your lips.

 “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he reassures you as he wets his cock with your arousal. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll make it all better.”

 Whoever said that slow sex couldn’t also be filthy had clearly never met Floyd Talbert.

 By the time he’s flipping you onto your stomach, you’ve been brought to the teetering precipice of release three times- his mouth and fingers and cock working you up while he kissed the sweetest admonishments into your skin. Tab called you needy, cockhungry, and wicked- all while kissing across your skin with such a sweet contrast to his words that it made your head spin.

When he finally, finally pulls your hips up and begins to piston into you, you’re already so delirious for him that you are pleading for him to let you cum- something that only serves to make him grip your hips harder and groan in anticipation. 

 “Dirty girl,” he grits out as he bends enough that his forehead can rest between your bunched shoulder blades, the line between admonishment and praise blurring headily as you feel that familiar flutter building in your lower belly. “Are you going to come for me? Can feel you shaking for me like a good little whore….”

You barely have to ask for more before he grips your sex possessively with one of his hands, your orgasm tearing through you and stealing your breath as well as your capabilities for speech.

 Floyd, whose curse is drowned out by the rush of blood to your ears, follows you quickly over the edge- grinding out as much of his own release as he can in between your legs before collapsing atop you. 

Almost as an afterthought, Tab slips himself from your body, rolling to lay beside you as you both come down from your highs.

 “So good,” you’re barely aware of him panting out. “You’re so fucking good, Y/N….”

You blindly reach out to drape your arm across his waist, incapable of returning the praise just yet.

He knows, though. You know he does by the way he sighs happily beside you.

~End of smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

~

“Y/N?”

You look down your body to where Floyd's head rests in the valley between your ribs, your fingers having been lazily combing through his overgrown hair for the past twenty minutes. 

“Hm?” you reply, your other hand snapping out to grab one of the pillows near the top of the bed and folding it beneath your head so you can watch him.

Turning his head to press a kiss on your skin, he looks up at you lazily. When you smile down at him, he returns with a content grin of his own.

 “Can I ask you something?”

Raising an eyebrow, you narrow your eyes teasingly. “I don’t know, Floyd….can you?”

You nearly shriek when his fingers dig into your sides, rolling your lips together in an attempt to quiet your laughter as Floyd bestows biting kisses up your sternum while you wriggle beneath him. 

“You’re such a brat sometimes,” he grumbles as he takes your face in his hands, unable to keep the smirk from his lips. “Lucky for you that you’re a good lay….”

Rolling your eyes, you nod your chin at him.

 “Just ask me already, you jerk.”

 His wicked expression softens, eyes scanning your face as you look up at him. The beginnings of a knot start to twist in your stomach, feeling the first drops of anxiety begin to stain your blood.

 “Floyd…..what’s wrong?” you ask, not liking the way he suddenly electing to look at your mouth rather than into your eyes. “Is everything—?”

“Would you ever marry me?”

 Your eyes widen at that. That had certainly not been what you were expecting him to ask you.

 Taking in a deep breath, you consider his words for a bit before answering immediately.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him, because you did. No, what gave you pause was all that marrying him would entail- the greatest obstacle being that you were already married, and unless more things had changed in post-war America than you realized, polyandry was still illegal. Not to mention the fact that, upon marrying Fred, anything you had once been able to call your own was now- at least legally speaking- his.

 You didn’t even have any right to the house you and Floyd had been living in. It, along with everything inside of it including you, was Frederick’s in both name and law.

And that was what scared you the most- the idea that, should you divorce Fred, you’d be penniless. Homeless. Destitute. You would have nothing.

But, as you looked into the blue eyes of the man you loved more than anything in this world, you realized that you wouldn’t mind any of that at all.

 Because you’d have Floyd Talbert.

 With a heavy sigh, you sit up so he doesn’t have to lean over you any more- taking his face in your hands and giving him a smile.

“I’d have nothing to offer you, you know.” You grin a little wider at the confusion on his face, brushing your fingertips over his bottom lip as you continued. “No savings or car or house for you to come home to at the end of a long day?”

 As the wrinkle in his brow smooths, you know that he knows what you’re really asking him. Bringing his own hand up to mess with the ends of your loose hair, he pouts for a moment.

 “Hmm, that’s a tough call, Y/N,” he says with a faux seriousness, tilting his head consideringly and narrowing his eyes at you. “I really like this bed frame—”

You nod, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing. “It’s a nice bed frame-”

“And the mattress? Best thing I’ve ever slept on.”

“I’m sure. All that built-in lumbar support cost a pretty penny, too.”

 Smirking openly now, Tab brushes his nose against yours. “Still not the best thing in the house, though. I’ve gotta say, the pretty girl who lives in it takes the cake in that regard.”

Cupping your hands around the back of his neck, you pull him in for a deep kiss, the both of you almost clicking your teeth together several times because of the stupid smiles on your faces. When you pull back, you peck a quick kiss on the tip of his nose before sitting back enough to look him full in the face.

“If I could, I’d have married you already.”

 The smile he gives you is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Yeah?” he presses, biting his bottom lip like an excited kid.

“Yeah, Floyd. I really would.”

“Good,” he says simply, carefully slipping from your grip enough to shift back down so he’s resting his head on your stomach. “Maybe I’ll ask you one of these days.”

 Looking down at him fondly, you let yourself lay back so you can grin up at the ceiling.

 “Who knows, Floyd Talbert,” you say quietly, heart feeling so full it could burst. “Maybe I’ll even say yes.”

 “Good.” he grumbles.

“Good.” you agree.

~ ~ ~

(HELLO YIKES AND SORRY MY DUDES I’M PMSING AND DEEP IN MY FEELS BUT THANKS FOR SOLDIERING THROUGH THIS PILE OF YUCK!)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

[slythergirlimagines]

Just Us With Some Hugging -Part One

Prompt: Prompt #1- Fake dating with Prince Zuko!

@darthsokaaa thank you for your request! I hope I did it justice! Who doesn’t love some Prince Zuko;) Masterlist

Just Us With Some Hugging- Part 1

You and Zuko had been close since birth. Your mothers had been best friends and the closest of confidantes, and because of this you had spent nearly every moment of your life with Zuko. As you grew up, Zuko became a trained fire bender and you became a trained warrior. Even during his exile, you were checking up on him through letters.

It had been nothing to pick his side over Ozai’s, and easier still to join forces with him against Azula to place the rightful Fire Lord on the throne. As soon as Zuko was crowned, he named you a member of his personal council. For three years, everything had remained somewhat peaceful, and Zuko and you had fallen right back into your friendship as if you’d never spent any time apart.

That’s why when Zuko had all but manhandled you into this conference room, you didn’t expect anything unusual. Maybe an important meeting, or just some time to catch up and talk. Never in your wildest dreams could you have predicted that he would ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

“What?” You say, blinking in shock.

“Y/N, it would just be for the duration of the Peace Celebration. Just a short little weekend, nothing much.” His face is a little flushed, his cheeks a light pink. Zuko has always struggled to ask for help, particularly anything dealing with emotions. Anxiously, he starts rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know it’s a lot, but think about it! We’d get to have a fun trip to Ba Sing Se. And it’ll be a fun party! We’ll get to see everyone again, they’re all coming this time.” He gestures with his hands. It’s almost endearing.

You’d be lying if you said the idea didn’t have any appeal. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen any of the Gaang. After the war, everyone had spread out and getting together had been nearly impossible. This would be the first Peace Celebration that everyone would be able to come to.

If you were extra honest with yourself, the idea was appealing for another reason entirely. Somewhere along the endless years of friendship, you had fallen in love with Zuko. Maybe it was seeing his growth as a person, or maybe it was his devotion to Fire Nation and righting Ozai’s mistakes. Maybe it was just that he was the single most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Regardless, you were in deep. And that was really the reason that you couldn’t say yes, as much as you might want to. You knew if you let yourself get that close to Zuko, it might ruin everything. Your friendship with Zuko was one of the most important aspects of your life, and you would never forgive yourself if you let your own feelings ruin what you all had.

“Zuko, I really don’t think...”

“You know, I’m kind of the Fire Lord, I could command you.” He says quietly. His voice is huskier than normal, and heat instantly floods your face.

Why was he doing this to you? It wasn’t fair that he was able to do...well to do that! He had no idea how much power he held over you, how you would do anything for him. And now that he had asked like that, there was no way you could say no.

Something in your expression must have given away your broken resolve, because Zuko’s face breaks into a huge grin.

“Thank you!” He exclaims, jumping up and happily running around the table to throw his arms around you. He’s warm, like all fire benders are, and hesitantly you hug him back and tuck your head under his chin. You’ve never been particularly affectionate friends, but the embrace doesn’t feel as unnatural as it probably should.

“I haven’t even said yes yet.” You grouch. You can feel the reverberations of Zuko’s low laugh in his chest. It’s too much, being in his arms like this.

“I know you.” Is all he says in reply. His words send warm tingles down your spine. With a final sigh, you pull away from Zuko, breaking the hug.

“Why do you need me to do this again?” You ask. Your eyes trace over his face, memorizing the contours and lingering on his scar. He used to act so ashamed of it, the scar he never asked for. Now he wears it like a badge of honor. You knew his troubles stemmed from his perceived lack of honor, but you can’t help but feel he was wearing his honor the entire time, right here on his face.

“I told you. Uncle drives me crazy with his matchmaking. He keeps telling me that ‘A single tea leaf makes the worst tea.’ Or something like that. I don’t even know what he means!” Zuko throws his hands up in defeat, breaking your trance. You snort, but don’t comment. Frustrated as he may be, Zuko loves Iroh.

Zuko had briefly mentioned the matchmaking to you before, but he had always played it off as a joke. You had no idea that Iroh was being so serious about it, or that it bothered Zuko so much.

“Why don’t you just tell him that you’re too young to settle down? You have a Nation to run, after all.” You interject.

Zuko looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“You know Uncle. He never listens when it comes to this stuff. I told you about the girl in Ba Sing Se he made me date!”

You force down the irrational swell of anger that builds in your chest. Zuko had mentioned the date in one of his letters, and it had bothered you for reasons you never wanted to think about.

“We need to talk logistics here.” You recross your arms. “What’s our story? How are we going to pull this off in front of our friends and your uncle?”

Zuko begins rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeves of his red robe fall down a few inches, and you quickly avert your eyes before you’re caught staring.

“I don’t think it will be too hard.” Zuko says. He’s too nonchalant about it all, which is mildly infuriating. He sees the irritated look on your face and hurries to explain. “I mean, we’ve been friends forever and we’re always around each other. It was bound to happen right?”

Your heart stutters and nearly stops. Did you hear him right?

Zuko clears his throat.

“I mean for story purposes that is.”

“Right.” You say. There’s a long awkward pause. You’ve never been comfortable with silence, so you hurry to break it.

“So one day we just decided ‘This is it.’ And I jumped your bones?”

The sarcasm lightens the mood, and Zuko laughs. His amber eyes twinkle in the light, like they’re shining.

“How come you jumped my bones?” He teases.

“We both know I’d have to make the first move, you’d never do it.” You challenge him.

A weird static energy settles in the room, reminding you of Azula’s lightning. Zuko has never looked at you so intensely. You swear the air is crackling.

“Right.” He says, and is it your imagination or are his eyes flickering to your lips?

The spell is broken by one of Zuko’s men opening the door.

“My Lord, I’m sorry to interrupt...” He trails off, looking between the two of you.

You and Zuko both notice the lack of space between you, and jump apart.

“Right, no it’s fine.” Zuko says, clearing his throat and gesturing for the man to come in.

You take the opportunity to leave while you still have some dignity left.

“Oh, and y/n?” Zuko says before you’re out the door.

“Yes, Zuko?” You ask. You hope the blush isn’t too noticeable on your face.

“I’m glad you said yes, because I already told Uncle last week.” His face splits into a cocky grin, and his scar crinkles.

Your infuriated scream echoes through the whole palace, mingling with his delighted laugh.

_____________________________

You’re already reconsidering this arrangement by the time you reach Ba Sing Se. Zuko looks astoundingly good when he’s more relaxed, and there’s no way you’ll be able to control yourself like this. Today he wears the clothing of a fire nation commoner. The deep red is striking against his skin and dark hair. It also highlights his scar and the amber of his eyes.

Ba Sing Se is gloriously overdecorated. There are flowers and banners covering every visible inch of the city, and they blend together in a colorful blur as the train moves through the city. Zuko smiles, face turned toward the glass, eyes taking in all the festivities. It’s been too long since you’ve seen him look so peaceful.

He turns from the window and catches your expression.

“What?” He asks, self-consciously.

Your voice is too soft when you answer him.

“Nothing. Ba Sing Se looks good on you.”

You have no idea where your boldness comes from, as Zuko shifts uncomfortably under the complement. Before you can tease him about it, he switches topics.

“Ok, so we’re really going to have to sell this thing, aren’t we?” He starts, making you roll your eyes.

It’s a typical Zuko move to save the panicking until right before. You had already done your fair share of freaking out, and had already done your meditation. You were a lot calmer about it all than you expected to be.

Of course, you knew that would probably change the moment you had to start pretending, but for now you were ok.

“Meditate Zuko. Deep breaths.” You tell him, giving him a gentle kick to the shin. He rolls his eyes, but takes the advice anyways.

“It’s going to be okay.” You tell him. “We just have to be us with some hugging. Or handholding. They know us and they know how we behave normally. We just have to act natural.”

Zuko nods, and a strand of black hair falls in front of his eyes. He flicks it away, and then settles deeper into his seat.

“Just us.” He says.

“With some hugging.” You amend.

He cracks an amber eye open and you shrug at his expression.

“It’ll be weird if we don’t touch each other at all.” You say.

“I didn’t know you had such a deep desire to touch me.” He says, with extra emphasis on the word “touch.”

Your body begins to tingle again. This has been happening more and more frequently with Zuko, where one of you says something with a double meaning. The electricity settles in again, but is broken by the abrupt stop of the train.

An enthusiastic stewardess comes to escort the two of you off the train. She’s pretty and she notices Zuko immediately.

“Welcome to Ba Sing Se!” She chirps happily, more at Zuko than you. You can’t help your irrantional flare of jealousy.

Zuko, noticing your aggravation, slings an arm over your shoulders and smirks.

“Yes, sweetheart. Welcome to Ba Sing Se.”

You give him a hard elbow to the ribs, and laugh at his grunt of pain.

Iroh is waiting with open arms when you get off of the train. He immediately takes Zuko off of your hands, and tries to smoosh Zuko as close to his body as he can. Zuko does a very un-Zuko thing and hugs back with as just as much force. It warms your heart to see them interact. Iroh breaks the embrace and hugs you next.

“It’s so good to see you both again!” He says. “And with such happy news.” Iroh wiggles his eyebrows and winks at the two of you.

“Uncle!” Zuko groans, throwing his hands up exasperatedly.

“Sorry, Sorry. Couldn’t help myself, y/n.” Iroh chuckles.

“It’s ok!” You try to say brightly, but it comes out breathy. If you don’t get it together, you’ll expose your own lie before anyone else can.

Zuko takes your hand in his, and shoulders both of your bags on his other arm. You do everything you can not to think about the fact that Zuko’s incredibly warm hand is wrapped around yours. You definitely don’t think about what this hand has done before, or what it could do if it wanted.

“Uncle, where are we staying?” Zuko asks.

For once you’re grateful to the heat of Ba Sing Se, for it camouflages the fact that you’ve started to sweat.

“We’ve set up a lovely house for you two and all of your friends! You’ll all be together.” Iroh says, bouncing around.

“Is anyone here yet?” You ask him. You can fight the excitement bubbling up inside you. You hadn’t seen your friends in a long time, and soon they’d all be here!

“Everyone but Aang and Miss Katara.” Iroh says. “They’ll be here later.”

You have an extra pep to your step as you wind through the streets of Ba Sing Se. Zuko laughs at your enthusiasm, and squeezes your hand. Iroh notices and practically starts glowing. A stab of something goes through you as you think about the lie you’re telling, but it all fades away as you let yourself enjoy the moment and the warmth of Zuko’s hand.

_________________________________________

In an effort to keep peace and spread good will, Ba Sing Se had been selected to host the annual Peace Celebration- a celebration honoring the peace ushered in by the Avatar, the end of the war, and the continuing efforts to preserve it. Ba Sing Se had been the natural choice to host the whole affair. Not only was it the biggest city, but it was the most neutral. And Ba Sing Se certainly knew how to throw a party.

You and the group were currently sandwiched tightly around a table. The whole Gaang was here. When you had arrived at the house, it had been a nonstop hug fest. Everyone had been so glad to see each other. Toph had taken you to your room across from hers, while Sokka had taken Zuko to his. You had fully expected the shakedown from Toph about your relationship, but she had said nothing. That scared you more than anything, because it could only mean she was waiting for the right time.

Zuko had told you about Toph’s ability to sense lies, and you had been privileged enough to see it first hand. If anyone was going to figure out your secret it was Toph.

You had wanted to get Zuko alone and tell him about your fears, but there hadn’t been time. Aang and Katara had arrived and then everyone had to get ready for the party. Now you were all here, and it was basically life as usual. Except for the fact that you were anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Katara and Aang were making eyes at each other, Sokka and Toph were competing to see who could hold their liquor better (Toph of course was winning), Zuko and Iroh were engaged in a discussion of the rebuilding of Ba Sing Se, and that left you and Suki to make awkward conversation.

You admired Suki a lot, but you hadn’t really gotten to know her well. Both of you had been sitting in silence. Suki takes a slow sip of her drink, and twirls the edges of her short brown hair.

“So you and Zuko?” She asks, nodding her head at the arm Zuko had wrapped around your shoulders.

You take a long sip of your drink, and then nod.

“Yeah.” You say quietly.

You had been waiting on pins and needles all night for this. Toph had yet to spring her trap, and Suki’s question seemed to catch the attention of the entire table.

“Yeah! Tell us how that happened!” Sokka says, half of his drink spilling over the rim of his mug. Like Zuko, Sokka has grown into a man since the war, well a childish man but a man none the less.

“Well...” You start.

“It just happened.” Zuko interjects, saving you. You start to take another sip to finish your drink. “And then y/n jumped my bones.” He laughs.

The surprise of his statement chokes you, and you start coughing. Zuko breaks into carefree laughter, and starts patting your back. The Gaang quickly joins in laughing, except for Toph, who cocks her head and stares with unseeing eyes at Zuko.

“I’m...going...to....murder....you.” You tell him, as you try to catch your breath. Zuko smiles warmly at you, and reaches up to smooth a piece of hair behind your ear. Your heart skips a beat, as he catches your eyes with his.

Toph and Sokka resume their contest, and you sigh with relief. Maybe she’ll be too drunk to tell or care if you’re lying. Zuko catches your eyes again, and it’s all you need to know that you guys are on the same page. Crisis momentarily averted.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Zuko says, pulling you away from the table.

“Zuko? Dance?” You hear someone mutter behind you.

“Zuko, if we act too different they’ll find out!” You hiss at him when you’re a distance away from the table. You try desperately to wiggle out of his grip.

He ignores you, and seamlessly incorporates you with the other dancers.

“I just want to dance with my girlfriend.” He bends his head down, whispering in your ear. “Is that too much to ask?”

He has a wicked grin on his face when he pulls away, and you would give anything to be able to bend him across the room.

“It is when you never do that! You never danced with Mai.” You point out, and then instantly regret it. Mai was a sore spot with Zuko. You watch as Zuko freezes, losing his buoyancy from earlier.

“I would’ve. She always said no.”

You shuffle closer in your embrace trying to offer him some comfort. You always put your foot in your mouth.

Zuko and Mai’s breakup had been awful. The relationship had been bad for a year, but when it finally came to a head, it had been explosive. Zuko had been positively horrid to deal with for weeks.

“Oh.” You say like a genius, but it isn’t really your fault that you can’t speak in coherent sentences with him holding you like this.

“Yeah.” Zuko says, and you know that if you don’t act now he’ll brood for the rest of the night.

“Well I’m a hell of a better dancer than Mai, so you’ve definitely upgraded.” You say flippantly.

Zuko smiles at you and pulls you closer.

“I certainly did.” He says.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, your close proximity, or the fact that Zuko has just told you that you are an upgrade from your biggest rival, but something in you snaps. Without warning, you find yourself leaning up and pressing a kiss to Zuko’s lips.

(A/N: I’m doing a part 2! This just seemed like a story that needed to be broken into two parts! Let me know if you enjoyed it and don’t forget to submit a request if you want me to write something! I do write for multiple fandoms! I’m currently working on my other requests so keep an eye out for those this week! You should be able to see all the fanfiction I’ve written by clicking on my tag slythergirlimagines)

[nashvilledreams]

My Naya, my Snixxx, my Bee. I legitimately can not imagine this world without you.

7 years ago today, she and I were together in London when we found out about Cory. We were so far away, but I was so thankful that we had each other. A week ago today we were talking about running away to Hawaii. This doesn’t make sense. And I know it probably never will.

She was so independent and strong and the idea of her not being here is something I cannot comprehend. She was the single most quick-witted person I’ve ever met, with a steel-trap memory that could recall the most forgettable conversations from a decade ago verbatim. The amount of times she would memorize all of those crazy monologues on Glee the morning of and would never ever mess up during the scene… I mean, she was clearly more talented than the rest of us. She was the most talented person I’ve ever known. There is nothing she couldn’t do and I’m furious we won’t get to see more.

I’m thankful for all the ways in which she made me a better person. She taught me how to advocate for myself and to speak up for the things and people that were important to me, always. I’m thankful for the times I grew an ab muscle from laughing so hard at something she said. I’m thankful she became like family. I’m thankful that my dad happened to have met her weeks before I did and when I got Glee, he told me to “look out for a girl named Naya because she seemed nice.” Well dad, she was nice and she became one of my favorite people ever.

If you were fortunate enough to have known her, you’ll know that her most natural talent of all was being a mother. The way that she loved her boy, it was truly Naya at her most peaceful. I’m thankful that Naya got that beautiful little boy back on that boat. I’m thankful he will have a strong family around him to protect him and tell him about his incredible mom.

I just hope more than anything that her family is given the space and time to come to terms with this. For having such tiny body, Naya had such a gigantic presence, a void that will now be felt by all of us - those of us who knew her personally and the millions of you who loved her through your TVs. I love you, Bee.

My favorite duet partner. I love you. I miss you. I don’t have words right now, just lots of feelings. Rest In Peace Angel, and know that your family will never have to worry about anything.

We started out as the closest friends and then like all new things, we went through a bit of a rocky phase. However, we stuck by each other’s side and created the most beautiful friendship built out of love and understanding. The last I had the chance to see you in person, I had left oranges outside our home for you to take. I wanted to say hi through the window but my phone didn’t ring when you called (which it never does, f*cking T-Mobile), so instead you and Josey left two succulents on our doorstep as a thank you. I planted those succulents and I look at them everyday and think of you. I still listen to your EP on repeat because from the moment I heard it, it struck me and I always wished the world knew more of your voice. You sent me over 5 dozen SnapChat videos when you and Josey woke up in the morning and I kick myself that I didn’t save one of them. You always shared recipes and I admired your love for food. We vowed to spend every Easter together, even though Covid stole this last one from us. You are and always will be the strongest and most resilient human being I know, and I vowed to carry that with me as I continue to live my life. 

You constantly taught me lessons about grief, about beauty and poise, about being strong, resilient and about not giving a fuck (but still somehow respectful). Yet, the utmost important lesson I learned most of all from you was being a consistent and loving friend. You were the first to check in, the first to ask questions, the first to listen..you cherished our friendship and I never took that for granted. 

We never took photos together because we mutually hated taking pictures...our relationship meant more than proof. I have countless pictures of our babies playing, because we shared that kind of pride and joy. So I’m showing the world a photo of our little goof balls for you, because I know that meant more than anything and they remind me of you and I. I speak to you everyday because I know you’re still with me and even though I’m feeling greedy that we don’t get more time together, I cherish every moment we had and hold it close to my heart.

There are no words and yet so many things I want to say, I don't believe I'll ever be able to articulate exactly what I feel but... Naya, you were a ⚡️ force and everyone who got to be around you knew it and felt the light and joy you exuded when you walked into a room. You shined on stage and screen and radiated with love behind closed doors. 

I was lucky enough to share so many laughs, martinis and secrets with you. I can not believe I took for granted that you'd always be here. Our friendship went in waves as life happens and we grow, so I will not look back and regret but know I love you and promise to help the legacy of your talent, humor, light and loyalty live on. 

You are so loved. You deserved the world and we will make sure Josey and your family feel that everyday. I miss you already.

She was bold. She was outrageous. She was a LOT of fun.⁣

Naya made me laugh like no one else on that set. I always said it while we were working together and I’ve maintained it ever since. Her playful, wicked sense of humor never ceased to bring a smile to my face.⁣

She played by her own rules and was in a class of her own. She had a brashness about her that I couldn’t help but be enchanted by. I also always loved her voice, and savored every chance I got to hear her sing. I think she had more talent than we would have ever been able to see.⁣

I was constantly moved by the degree to which she took care of her family, and how she looked out for her friends. She showed up for me on numerous occasions where she didn’t have to, and I was always so grateful for her friendship then, as I certainly am now.⁣

And even as I sit here, struggling to comprehend, gutted beyond description- the very thought of her cracks me up and still brings a smile to my face. That was Naya’s gift. And it's a gift that will never go away. ⁣

Rest in peace you wild, hilarious, beautiful angel.

How can you convey all your love and respect for someone in one post? How can you summarize a decade of friendship and laughter with words alone? If you were friends with Naya Rivera, you simply can’t. Her brilliance and humor were unmatched. Her beauty and talent were otherworldly. She spoke truth to power with poise and fearlessness. She could turn a bad day into a great day with a single remark. She inspired and uplifted people without even trying. Being close to her was both a badge of honor and a suit of armor. Naya was truly one of a kind, and she always will be. 💔 Sending all my love to her wonderful family and her beautiful son.

Dear Naya, 

I’m failing miserably to process this news. I always imagined old future senior moments where we would hear your infectious laughter down the hall knowing that our funny bone was in for a treat. To many people, myself included, you were the life of the party. Not only able to rock when fun was to be had after a long day but that shining friend that was always willing to listen, offer sympathy, perspective and at times, give much needed levity to any situation. 

You were a beast on the show. I admired you as I watched you nail multi page monologues that you learned moments before and pour your heart into every performance with an energy that had that snicks special written all over it. Our deep conversations about life inbetween scenes are some of my favorite moments with you. Getting to hear about your hopes and dreams for the future and with Josey’s arrival, ‘Your greatest success’ I was so happy to see your dream turn into reality. 

You deserved more. I’m so sorry but you deserved more. You gave life your all and I hope all the good that you have given to the world will be returned in abundance when you reunite with our brother in the heavenly skies. I’m so grateful for our memories. We will make sure to keep your legacy and spirit alive so Josey will grow up to know the incredible woman you were. Love you, Naya. You are already missed. Eternally. 

-HSJ

Naya and I fell into stride with such ease, she was my first friend and ally on our show. In the pilot, our characters came and went with such swiftness. Our enthusiasm brimmed with all of the unknown. We tried to grasp what the other cast members must be feeling as we were working in such separate manners. We dared to dream. What if this show worked? Wouldn’t that be something? Something was brimming, it was palpable. And thank god it worked. Naya’s magnetic talent was going to be unleashed, we just didn’t know it yet. ⁣⁣

I’ve been revisiting Naya’s performances on our show and it has brought me great joy. To work with her was a gift. There was a great deal to absorb - her work ethic, her fearlessness, her talent - supreme. Naya had a laugh that would envelop you and hold you captive. She was mesmerizing. That twinkle in her eye, her luminous smile. Naya lead with truth, humor, wit. I loved her for all of these reasons. ⁣⁣

I loved her sense of curiosity and wanderlust. I was lucky enough to be her travel partner for some of my most favorite adventures. As I write this, I’m grinning with swelling memories of a spontenaous 36 hour excursion - one might even say diversion - to Paris. With Naya, everything was possible and would often simply unfold before us, almost magically.⁣⁣

On this particular jaunt, within ten minutes of checking into our hotel, we found ourselves strolling the halls of L'École des Beaux-Arts, sipping wine from paper cups with students showcasing their latest work. It was fantastic. We were united in our commitment to discovery. And there was always a list of cleverly curated ideas in Naya’s back pocket, should we need it. ⁣⁣

I cannot make sense of this tremendous loss. I will hold onto her and these memories for the rest of time, alongside our Glee family. Please hold space for her, her family, her beautiful boy. ⁣⁣

In absolute, loving memory.

Naya The world is at such a loss and I am truly heartbroken. I still remember the day I met you. You Walked straight up to me, grabbed me by the face and drug me around until I met every single person on set, introducing me as “new booty”. You were one of the first people who made me feel like family when others saw me as an outsider. I didn’t know then that you would become my family and that’s just who you were to everyone.. A Mother, Sister, Daughter and most of all a friend. Your massive heart and bright spark is what carried our entire show, when at times we all felt like giving up. 

You always showed up for me when I needed some wisdom or was down and just needed someone to talk to. You took care of everyone around you in a way that was so warm and comforting and you sure knew how to throw a hell of a party! 

I always admired your bravery and passion to fight for what’s right even when it seemed like you were up against the world. Your spirit is contagious and you continue to make everyone you have touched a better and stronger person by knowing you. 

My favorite part of glee was getting to watch you perform and shine up close every day. You really were the pulse of that show. Anyone who was blessed enough to see and experience your raw talent knows it to be true. You’re one of the smartest and most gifted people I have ever met. There is no one like you and there never will be.

You have changed peoples lives all around the world and you continue to change mine forever. I will never forget your love and kindness. Thank you for sharing your spirit Angel.

I will miss you always. I Love you Naya

For the last 7 years the 13th of July has shattered our hearts beyond repair. There aren’t enough words to describe the pain we are feeling, we are truly heartbroken at the loss of @nayarivera .

Naya, Cory loved you so so much. He cherished your friendship more than you will ever know. From the laughs you shared, to the strength you gave him when he needed it the most. Cory truly adored you. He was in awe of your incredible talent, the way you gave everything you had to each performance; the slap in the auditorium was one of his favourite stories to share. You once said Cory was like a member of your family; you will always be a part of ours. We’ll carry you in our hearts forever. We miss you. Friends reunited for eternity.

We send all our love and strength to your beautiful boy, your family, friends and fans 💔🐻💔

[invaderzia1]

Kinktober Day 5

Double penetration in two holes | Boot Worship | Lactation

Pairing: Might Guy x Fem!Reader x Kakashi Hatake

Tags: Double Penetration in two hole, dirty talk

The night started out as just three friends grabbing a few drinks and complaining about their ninja duties, however at some point it took a turn. Now, all three were in Guy’s apartment, shed of most of their clothes. Between the two males was (Y/n), who was bent over allowing Kakashi to prep her. She was leaning into Guy, who was stroking her hair. She felt Kakashi remove his fingers away, wiping his hand on one of Guy’s blankets laying in his couch.

“Now, before we begin, I’d like to ask again if you are fine with this? We can stop at any time.” Kakashi asked, pressing a kiss against her shoulder as he helped her lean back.

(Y/n) looked up at Guy then turned to Kakashi, both looking down at her, waiting for consent. She thought she should feel nervous about all this, but for some reason, most likely the alcohol from earlier, she felt ready for this all. She trusted the two men to treat her well.

“I want this, I want you both. If it gets too much I’ll give the word though.”

That’s all they needed as Kakashi picked her up from behind, with Guy approaching from the front to help keep her up.

“Now Kakashi, be careful. Wouldn’t want to drop such a precious flower.”

Rolling her eyes at Guy’s words, she wrapped her legs around him, making sure she was secure so that wouldn’t happen. She brought one hand up to the back of Guy’s neck while the other held onto his shoulder.

Kakashi, sure that there was no way for her to fall, moved one of his hands down to position his length at her back entrance. He pressed a kiss on her shoulder before slowly sliding it in, being as gentle as possible. The new pressure caused her to gasp out, grasping at Guy’s hair and digging her nails into his shoulder. In response, Guy pressed kisses into her forehead whispering encouraging words in between. It didn’t take long for him to fully push his length in, causing a dull ache in her back end. The two males gave her a moment to get accustomed to the length, comforting her.

“Let me know when you feel ready for me.” Guy said, rubbing circles into her hip.

She gave it a few more seconds before looking up and nodding, giving Guy the go ahead to enter her. He made sure Kakashi had two hands holding her before reaching one hand down and guiding it into her entrance. As he slowly pushed in, he felt her squeeze around his length. She released a low moan as she adjusted to the feeling of him entering.

Both men were well endowed, Kakashi with more length than Guy, but Guy was thicker than Kakashi. Both lengths filled her up almost painfully so, yet it was oddly satisfying. Her fingers dug painfully into Guy’s shoulder, hard enough to nearly draw blood. She felt Kakashi snake his hand around as Guy bottomed out inside, moving to rub her clit in an attempt to help her relax. She felt Guy’s hand return to her ass.

They sat in silence, the only noise was (Y/n) heavy breathing as she got used to the feeling of the two cocks with in her. Her grip on Guy’s shoulder relaxed as she grew more accustomed to the stretching. She opened her eyes and looked into Guy’s eyes as she relaxed. He leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips. As they pulled away from the kiss she gave them the word to continue, leaning back into Kakashi who started pressing kisses into her neck.

Guy was the first to move, taking it slow as he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back into her. She let out loud moan at the feeling. Kakashi gave Guy a few more thrusts before joining in, groaning at the sensation.

Immediatly, (Y/n) moans increased, causing both males a sense of pride at making her feel so good. Kakashi pulled himself closer to her body and began to press kisses into her neck, occasionally biting down to leave a few hickies he knows she’ll be upset about in the morning. He couldn’t help but want to mark her up, have her reminded for the upcoming days how amazing this was.

Guy was more than happy to receive the brunt of her pleasure, feeling her nails scratch up his back while her other hand occasionally tugging at his hair. It was almost like a badge of honor to him, being able to see on him how well he’s treating his partner. In turn, he sped up his thrusts, putting more force behind them.

Kakashi pulled his mouth away, whispering into (Y/n) ears. “Is this what you wanted when you suggested we go out? To be stuffed to the brim with our cocks?”

(Y/n) moaned at his words, her cunt clenching around Guy’s length in response.

“Come on, you can answer us. Have you thought of this before? Your two best friends fucking you like this?”

Unable to get her words out, she just nodded her head, shamelessly. She didn’t seem to care whether they knew or not, she just wanted to be good and answer Kakashi.

Kakashi looked up at Guy, who seemed interested in her response.

“You heard that right, Guy? Poor girl has been waiting for this for a while.” Kakashi cooed, teasingly.

Guy looked at (y/n), genuinely excited with the prospect she’s thought of this before. “You have?”

She nodded again, feeling embarrassed by Guy’s genuineness of his question. Her soft moans still coming as the men didn’t let up their thrusts.

“Aha, no need to feel embarrassed. Especially not if it’s feeling this amazing.” Guy enunciated his point by reeling his hand back and slapping her ass rather roughly, ripping a loud moan from her lips.

(Y/n) let out broken cries of their names, wanting them to know that both of them were making her feel this good. She arched her back as she leaned more into Kakashi’s slim chest. His fingers rubbing into her clit had sped up, not letting up this entire time. The way both men pounded into her along with being able to hear how much they enjoyed it brought her closer to her end, causing her to clench in enjoyment.

After a few minutes, both men could tell they were close to their end, and they were sure (Y/n) was as well.

“Fuck, (Y/n) where do you want us to cum?” Kakashi asked.

They let up a bit to give the girl time to answer.

“Inside, please inside.” She begged.

Kakashi let out a grunt at the thought, let himself pick up his speed to reach his end. His thrusts got sloppier as he got closer to it. As he reached his peak, he repeated (Y/n)’s name like a mantra, his voice picking up an octave as he did.

Guy on the other hand followed a few seconds behind, grasping (Y/n)’s ass and his face screwing up. He clenched his teeth as he pumped her full of his seed.

(Y/n) let out a high pitch moan she knows Guy’s neighbors probably heard. Her body tensed up and clenched around both males, as she vision turned white. Her body then went limp in their arms, as she came off her high, cuddling back into Kakashi’s chest.

As both the males returned back to this plane of exisitence, they became immediately aware of how tired they were and how they needed to put (Y/n) down before they dropped her. Kakashi pulled out of her first with Guy following after. (Y/n) face scrunched up in discomfort from the loss. Guy carried (Y/n) over to his couch, laying her down before sitting on the ground in front of it. Soon after Kakashi returned to the pair, handing (Y/n) a towel to wipe herself off. He looked down and felt a sense of pride at seeing how happy she looked.

“So how are you feeling?”

(Y/n) looked up at Kakashi, before looking over at Guy. She smiled up at them and gave a thumbs up, causing them both to laugh at how cute she was.

“Good I’m glad.” Kakashi said, patting her on the thigh before grabbing his boxers and putting them on and then sitting in Guy’s lounge chair.

“We should, uhh, probably get cleaned up.”

Kakashi nodded, looking back at (Y/n). “We might need to help her with that.”

“Of course, what kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t help a lady in need.”

As the two males helped get her into the bathroom, (Y/n) thought to herself how she wished this won’t be just a one time thing.

[northlight14]

Breakup’s, birthdays and drag shows

Description: Roman and Janus broke up and now Roman can't celebrate his birthday with him. Now it's Virgil's job as his best friend to cheer him up.

TW: breakup mention, crying, cursing, Janus isn't intended to be unsympathetic but since Virgil doesn't like him it might come across that way, alcohol mention, brief violence mention, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: platonic prinxiety, past roceit

Genre: hurt/comfort

Prompt: alt prompt 4, drag (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Virgil was browsing the card isle looking for a birthday card for Roman when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out to see it was Remus calling him.

"Ugh, what is it Remus?" Virgil said, already not interested in whatever Remus had gotten himself into.

"Hey Virgin! Can you come over?" Remus chirped.

"I'll be coming over later to drop off Roman's card. Why, what's up?"

"Well, you know how Roman and Janus broke up last week?" How could Virgil forget? Roman had spent the entire week being an absolute wreck and Patton and Logan had to hold Virgil back in order to stop him beating Janus up.

"Yes." Virgil gritted out through his teeth.

"Well, Roman just realized that he isn't gonna be able to celebrate with him and that this is gonna be his first birthday without him in 3 years and what not. So now he's crying in his room, lookin' like a hot mess. And since he's your best friend and all I was wondering if you could come and cheer him up or whatever."

"What! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" Virgil yelled, before realizing he's still standing in the middle of the card isle, hiding his face which was now scarlet.

"I don't know man but you'll come up with something! You're like a brother to him, Virgie!"

"You actually are his brother, Rem!"

"Come on Virgil, please!" Remus pleaded through the phone. "I just...I really don't know what to do, here." He said, voice suddenly going quiet.

Virgil sighed. "Ok, I'll be ten minutes."

———

Virgil always forgot how big Roman's house was. The drive way alone seemed to go on for ages, outlined by large trees and red rose bushes. The pathway to the door was a red brick and clearly well taken care of. The house itself was a faded red brick with large windows and balconies. The front door was too tall and painted black, standing in the middle of two white pillars.

Looking at where Roman lived, it was easy to see why Virgil had disliked him at first. When they'd first met, Roman had a much bigger problem with his bratty rich kid attitude and with his life seemingly perfect from an outsiders point of view it was easy to see why they clashed. after all, Virgil had absent parents and had to work several jobs to help pay bills. But as he got to know Remus better it made it much easier to see through Roman as well. Mr and Mrs Prince were nice enough but they had a bad habit of pitting Roman and Remus against each other, both with academics and creative pursuits. It turned out Roman's arrogant attitude was a coping mechanism for his surprisingly low self esteem. It also turned out that Roman wasn't just "lazy" when it came to school work like Virgil had first thought, but he was actually struggling with ADHD. The more Virgil learned about Roman and the more Roman learned about Virgil, the closer they became until they began to see each other as brothers. Brothers that would make fun of each other relentlessly but brothers non the less.

Virgil knocked on the large door and waited for a response. Not too long after, Mrs Prince answered. She was a tall and slender woman with tanned skin. Her dark hair was tied perfectly in a bun. She wore a black dress with a red shall, both of which looked as expensive as Virgil's car.

"Oh, hello Virgil. I assume you're here for Roman? Remus said you were coming." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of coarse, Roman should be in his room. He hasn't come out since this morning." She said, stepping aside to let Virgil in.

'Oh God.' Virgil thought to himself before heading upstairs and hoping he would finally be able to remember which room is Romans.

In the end Remus came out his room and pointed Virgil in the right direction but hey, no one else needed to know that.

Gently, Virgil knocked on Romans door and waited to be let in.

"Remus, I told you to go away!" Roman yelled from inside, his voice sounding muffled.

"Hey Roman, it's Virgil. Can I come in?"

There was a brief moments pause before Virgil heard a quiet voice he decided to interoperate as Roman inviting him in.

Virgil was very taken aback by the sight before him. The room, which was usually kept as neat as possible, was covered in tissues, chocolate wrappers and a mix of opened and unopened presents. Roman was sat on his bed, eyes puffy and hair messy.

"Um, hey, are you alright?" 'Fuck sake Virgil, obviously he isn't.' Roman sniffled, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, I just...I miss him, ya know?"

"Yeah." Virgil said, sitting beside him. "Oh, um, I got you this..." Virgil awkwardly passed him the card.

Roman smiled, accepting it. "Thanks."

"So...what do you want to do? For your birthday, I mean." Virgil said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

"I don't know..." Roman sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was just going to continue to watch Carmen Santiago. But I always watched that with Janus. It was our show, ya know? He'd always make a comment about how she's still stealing and I'd counter it with how she's stealing from thieves so surely that makes it ok! I don't know, it just...it feels wrong to watch it without him..." Roman laughed sadly. "Which sucks because the last episode left on a cliff hanger and I really wanna know what happens next." He laughed a little at his own expense.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk. "Well, why don't we go out somewhere?"

Roman looked down again. "I don't know..."

'Crap. What the heck am I supposed to do here?!'

Virgil looked around awkwardly. He then spied in the corner what looked like a new makeup pallet. Roman must have gotten it for his birthday. 'Bingo.'

"Hey, why don't we do each other's makeup?" Virgil offered.

Romans face immediately lit up. "Really?!" He said, excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well last time I asked to do your makeup, you said you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with your eye liner."

"Yeah, well..." Virgil coughed. "Consider it my birthday present to you."

Roman immediately shot up and grabbed the eyeshadow pallet and several brushes. "I promise you won't regret this!" Yeah, Virgil was already regretting this but Roman seemed happy and that's all that mattered.

———

The brushes tickled Virgil's face as Roman layered the purple eye shadow. Virgil almost started to object as Roman began to apply silver jewels at the edges of the eye shadow, before stopping himself. Roman then finished the look by applying a purplish pink lipstick and brushing Virgil's bangs out of his face. He then handed Virgil a mirror. The look was very 80's glam, far from Virgil's usual style but he had to admit, it looked really good. The eyeshadow looked sharp, the upper lid being a lighter shade than the under eye and corners of the eyes.

"It looks great!" Virgil said, admiring it. Roman smiled proudly from the compliment. "Alright." Virgil said, taking the eye shadow pallet. "Your turn."

Roman laughed. "I appreciate the offer, rainy day real estate, but I don't really wanna look like I haven't slept in a hundred years." Roman teased.

"Says the guy who's went entire weeks not sleeping because he was binge watching a new show!" Virgil teased back.

"And I'll have you know I wear that like a badge of honor!"

"Besides," Virgil continued to laugh. "I know how to do other makeup looks."

"Ok..." Roman said. "But if I end up looking like a Tim Burton character, I will kill you with my bare hands." They both couldn't help but laugh.

Virgil decided to go for a similar style that Roman went for, layering different shades of red and mixing in some gold glitter. He also decided to draw a small crown on his right cheek, just below the eye. The look was then finished off with red lipstick to match.

He passed the mirror over to Roman who gasped in delight at his reflection. "It looks so good!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah? I'm glad you like it." Virgil smiled, pulling back on his purple patch hoodie after taking it off to give himself more mobility when applying the makeup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Roman said, waving his arms in front of his face before jumping up and handing Virgil a black leather jacket that was hung on his chair as well as a pair of purple tinted heart glasses. "Put these on!" He exclaimed.

Virgil once again pulled off his hoodie, replacing it with the leather jacket. It fit him surprisingly well considering Roman was a fair bit taller and more muscular than him. He then put on the glasses and Roman eagerly pulled him off his bed and guided him to his full length mirror.

"Wow...I actually look really good." Virgil said.

"See! I told you!" Roman laughed.

Virgil examined the jacket. "I didn't think you'd own a jacket like this. Did you steal it from Remus or something?" Virgil asked.

Romans smile suddenly dropped. "It, uh, it was Janus'..."

Shit.

"Oh, um, sorry." Virgil said, honestly.

"It's ok." Roman sighed, sitting back on his bed. "I've been meaning to give it back. Especially since it still has his wallet in it. But that means I'll have to see him and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

'He left his wallet in here?' Virgil put his hands in the pockets and sure enough, Roman was right. Virgil quickly started to feel all too powerful now knowing this.

"Hey, come on, let's go out somewhere. Show off your makeup." Virgil tried again.

"For someone who looks like they belong in a vampire novel, you're awfully eager to go outside." Roman laughed.

"Come on, I just think it'll do you some good to get out for a bit."

Roman averted Virgil's gaze. "I don't know..."

"Come on, man. Do you really want to let that jackass ruin your birthday?"

Roman sighed. "Ok, fine."

Virgil waited outside Romans room as he changed out his pajamas. When he came out, he was sporting a white shirt paired with a black jacket that had a red floral pattern. He was also wearing a pair of glasses, his in the shape of two fairy wings that matched the gold in his eye shadow perfectly.

As the two walked out the house, Roman called "Mom, weren't going out! I should be home soon!"

His mom sounded surprised by this but happy non the less. "Ok sweetie, be back soon!"

"So where are we going?" Roman asked as they walked out the house.

"How the hell should I know? I'm just winging it." Virgil laughed.

———

The two wandered through the town as the sun began to set, the reds and oranges bouncing off Romans glasses and the glitter perfectly. Virgil was all too aware of the judging looks they were being given but when he looked at Roman, he seemed happy. And right now that's all that mattered. Just keeping Romans mind off Janus.

Eventually, Virgil began to hear the sound of music and he subconsciously started to follow it, Roman tailing behind. As he wandered through the town he eventually found the source.

A bar putting on a drag show.

Roman was staring off into space, standing next to him. Virgil tapped his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, I know what we're doing."

———

Romans face lit up once more when he saw the stage. It didn't seem like they missed too much, which was good. The drag queen that was stood on the stage currently was singing, her hair done big with makeup that shone and reflected the lights perfectly. Her dress black and covered in sequins and frills. The heels she wore didn't look comfortable in the slightest but she walked in them with ease.

The two sat at the bar. They were each 18 and 19, meaning they wouldn't be able to drink but given the circumstances, it was probably best if Roman didn't get drunk right now.

Instead, Virgil just ordered them some non alcoholic drinks and fries. Roman was about to hand him the money to pay but Virgil immediately declined. "My treat. It's your birthday after all." Virgil then remembered Janus' wallet still in his jacket pocket. 'I mean, if Janus is the reason we're here, it's only right he should be the one to pay for us, right?' Virgil couldn't help his smirk as he handed the money over.

The night continued and Roman and Virgil cheered loudly for each queen on stage, each one quite different from the last. Virgil watched as any sign of grief seemingly dissolved from Romans face.

The final queen for the night came on the stage and they both watched with joy as she performed.

"I know what you're doing, you know." Roman said, not taking his eyes off the stage. Virgil froze instantly, slowly daring to look at his friend. Roman once again had small tears in his eyes but he wore the most genuine smile Virgil hadn't seen on him in ages. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled at his friend. At his brother. "Of coarse."

-------

Authors note: I’ve been wanting to write something based on the glam looks Thomas posted for Roman and Virgil for a while now and I obviously wanted to write something for Romans birthday. So when I saw the prompt for today was ‘drag’ I immediately thought “well that’s convenient”. So happy birthday Roman! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed. I’m still practicing my writing and hopefully I’m improving. 

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Trois:

Chapter One. 

The leading lady will be introduced eventually but I feel like with the way this is written I need to focus on Adonis and Erik first. 

Warnings: AU!Erik, AU!Adonis, smut, bisexual, mentions of blood, threesome.

The 2019 Comic Con at the Los Angeles Convention Center was populous to say the least. Adonis Johnson felt like he was elbow-to-elbow with the animated and roused crowd of event goers. Everyone is grouped like teenagers in those cheesy high school flicks. You have your Nerds—never worried about being challenged to prove their knowledge about the gaming character or superhero on the shirt they're wearing, yelling out quotes in a spirit of shared fandom. Then, you have your cos players—rehearsed smiles on their faces whenever they are stopped to have their picture taken, sort of deteriorating and looking less magnificent as the day goes on due to wig issues, broken weapons, or itchy and hot costumes. Then, there are those individuals like Adonis who endure the hectic universe. 

Adonis is wearing a faded orange muscle tee with a mixture of his favorite anime characters such as Saitama, Goku, Sasuke, L, Yusuke Urameshi, and Spike Spiegel. He styled the tee with a pair of Nike Dri-FIT Basketball shorts in black, black Jordan socks, and a pair of orange and black Air Jordan 1’s on his feet. He couldn’t forget his layered silver chains and finger rings to make it more stylish, or his charcoal black Coach backpack to carry his essentials like the sun screen he needed and some water from standing in that long ass line in the blazing afternoon sun. The cast of Zombieland: Double Tap will be there, and over 800 exhibitors. Adonis didn’t even know where to start or end and at first he figured the map in his hand that he grabbed at the entrance was a great idea but he tossed it in the closest receptacle. 

Adonis scratched at the steri-strip on the corner of his pouty bottom lip since the regular stitches were removed by his doctor almost 48 hours ago. Adonis earned that busted lip from a fight he triumphed in. He didn’t get that wound from the type of fights you see on paper view—he’s an Underground Boxer who participates in Street fighting. Yes, Adonis fights in ‘unlicensed’ matches. This means it operates outside the governing bodies of the sport and is susceptible to rules being broken and fights being fixed. It is illegal in many countries because it is dangerous and disruptive to daily life—running the possibility of being charged with several crimes especially. It’s Adonis’ personal fight club, a badge of honor for him. 

Adonis was introduced to the idea of a fight club by a childhood buddy of his that died five years ago. His name was Clark Wilson. Adonis and Clark used to be in Juvie together—two angry kids who used their fists because of the violence and hatred surrounding them. When Adonis’ father, famous Boxer named Apollo Creed’s wife Mary Anne came looking for Adonis while he was in Juvie, she took him in as her own son and started him out in therapy and anger management groups. For the most part, Adonis felt as if his anger was suppressed but he missed the way fighting made him feel——alive. First, Adonis had to understand the reasoning of a Fight Club. Fight Club is about releasing his anger and stress; about fighting his problems; about going against normalcy and the safe little bubble he has become accustomed to living in. 

Rules were put in place and Adonis found a private property hidden from the public eye so that the authorities can’t interfere. Adonis uses a basement of a record shop for his Fight Club location. If someone would die in Fight Club, there isn’t anything anyone could do. There has only been one case where someone died in Adonis’ Fight Club and he swore to make sure it didn’t become deadly. Brutal, yes, but no murder. Pinching the steri-strip on his lip to keep it in place, Adonis visits an exhibitor—Comic Madness. Pulling out his iPhone so he could use his Apple Pay, Adonis sifts through the comic books to find the ones he wanted. The price tag on them was a bit much but this was a once a year weekend event so he could break the bank. 

Entrepreneur of a fitness company called Elite Body Edge, Erik Stevens strolls through Comic Con after checking out the Hellboy cast members doing a Q&A. Stylish per usual, dangling gold cross earring in his right ear, yellow and black camouflage cargos on, all-white creaseless Nike Air Force 1s, and a lax graphic tee with The Lost Boys on it, Erik pans his Canon PowerShot G7X Mark lll Camera around him, Vlogging his Comic Con experience for his YouTuber’s. When he’s not recording fitness and nutrition videos, Erik is vlogging about his daily life or giving advice to the anonymous subscribers who send him emails. He wanted to edit the video to look like a VHS video for a different aesthetic. Erik strolls past a group of cos players dressed as The Avengers and stops to record them, smiling at the enthusiasm and flashing his gold canines. 

Erik sips from his souvenir cup, the straw making an annoying suctioning noise since it was nearly empty. Shaking the cup, ice chips clanking around, Erik stops to get some more footage. Just when he was about to end his vlogging, there was a rather sexy, good-looking dude with chestnut eyes, amber skin so smooth and velvety looking. The muscle tee he was sporting didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Clearly, he’s lean, and chiseled. Erik haltingly lowers his camera, his inky black eyes trailing over this mystery guys frame with enthrallment. Just when Erik thought he would be coming to Comic Con for some fanboy fun, he spotted a distraction with a nice ass. Erik is a bi-sexual man. Friends jokingly called Erik a hoe that got off on pussy or dick—a reckless hoe that played with fire. Married couples, closet homosexuals, threesomes with women, anything that caused mayhem and wreckage with relationships. Anything to get his thick dick wet. 

Erik’s Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck and his lips parted. When the mystery guy turned around Erik grunted deeply. Lips so thick and plump. Oooh. His breath became ragged and he felt himself swelling. Why did this have to happen to him right now? Donnie must have felt Erik’s hard eyes burning into the back of his skull because he looked back over his shoulder at him with a raised brow and obvious annoyance. The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled with suspicion. Erik found it comical, giving Adonis a sly half smirk when their eyes connected. Adonis shook out his shoulders, focusing back on the stacks of comic books in front of him. Why is his heart skipping a beat and his stomach in knots? The back of his neck prickled and he glanced over at Erik again before he cocked his head to the side. The devilish smirk on Erik’s face sparked Adonis’ short temper. 

Thinking back to his anger management tips, Adonis tried to take a timeout by using “I” statements—to stay in control. Think before you speak, don’t make assumptions, calm yourself. As much as he wanted those methods to work, Erik’s smiling, smug face bothered Adonis. Who is this random ass nigga and why the fuck is he smiling like there’s a joke? Adonis started to feel more and more uneasy about Erik staring at him. Does he know about the Fight Club? That seemed to invigorate Adonis’ irritation because he began charging through a group of cos players and walked right up to Erik with his pectoral muscles puffed out and his hands in fists so tight he could feel the aftershocks from his fight almost two days ago. Erik stood his ground with a single brow raised, waiting for Adonis to cause a scene. As soon as Adonis crowded his personal space that was already so little with how many people surrounded them, Erik made it his business to allow his inky black eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch and back up swiftly. 

“The fuck is your problem staring at me, nigga?” Adonis spoke with a harsh whisper that caused his jaw muscles to clench, “You know me or something?” Adonis paused before he nodded his head slowly, “Let me guess...you wanna fight me?”

“Fight you?” Erik’s eyes become slits, “Why would I want to fight somebody I don’t even know?”

“Well, then you must have heard about me…” Adonis says with a questioning tone. Erik licks his lips and with no regard allows his piercing eyes to memorize the shape of Adonis’ mouth. Adonis couldn’t fight the urge to do the same. He’s turned on. Just as the tension between the two of them reaches a fever pitch, Adonis steps away before he could even realize what he was doing. Adonis didn’t even know he had been holding his breath until he drew in a shaky tone. He’s noticeably quieter now, his aggression tampered. He knew his bewilderment was written across his face. Adonis squared his shoulders and shook out his limbs as if Erik had a bind on him. 

“You good, fighter?” Erik asks sarcastically, “You’re a boxer? I can tell by your reflexes. For a second I thought you were gonna try and knock me out,” Erik smiled. Adonis swallows a hefty amount of spit to calm the tingling sensation in his abdomen. 

“Yeah...I box...underground,” Adonis clarified, “Been doing it for seven years now.”

“Ahh, dirty boxing, I see,” Erik strokes his goatee, “how does one get into that shit anyway? I’m interested.” 

“You don’t choose it like you choose your next meal..you gotta be initiated in...they like to weed out the weak ones…” 

“That hardcore?” Erik took a few steps towards Adonis.

“Hell yeah,” Adonis stares at Erik’s feet as if he were overstepping, “I can tell you more about it if you’re serious.” 

“As long as it’s from the pro himself I’m all ears.” 

This foreign feeling that washed over Adonis’ body was something he felt before when he questioned whether or not he wanted a man to suck his dick. He looks back at Erik just as he smiles and Adonis rolled his eyes away slightly. What the fuck is happening right now? 

“I don’t even know your name, bro,” Adonis held out his hand to give Erik dabs, “I’m Adonis.”

“Erik,” He raised his hand to shake Adonis’. He didn’t want to linger too long but the feeling of his calloused palm teased his hand and it made him want to stroke it. When Erik let go, he allowed his fingertips to brush across the center of Adonis’ palm and that little touch caused Adonis’ biceps to flex. Good to see him react. 

“you gotta be serious...this shit is...it’s rough,” Adonis cleared his throat, “Ain’t the place to really discuss this—“

“Nah, I’m cool,” Erik says with a chuckle—a teasing grin on his face and his eyes now following the definition of Adonis’ arms. Adonis didn’t like Erik staring at him so openly. Maybe Erik got the wrong vibe from Adonis—believing him to be a possible fuck he could conquer after this crowded event, “I’ll stick to boxing in my gym. This underground shit sounds like some kind of deadly contract.” 

“It’s not for everybody,” Adonis says with a smirk, “But if you change your mind, how do I reach you? I usually don’t recruit fighters out in the open like this.”

“Here you go,” Erik pulls out his black leather wallet, retrieving a business card before handing it over to Adonis. It’s a black business card with a gold metallic painted edge for his fitness club Elite Body Edge. The business card is twice as thick as standard cards, since they are printed on 32 pt. uncoated cardstock, offering a superb heft and feel everyone will notice. Erik’s contact information is at the bottom of the card. 

“I’ve heard of this fitness club, all good things too, I’ll keep in touch if you’re ever interested.”

“I’d like to come and watch the fights at least...is that cool?” 

Adonis ponders for a bit, “We have people come and watch but it’s mainly members…”

Erik notices Adonis’ hesitation, backing away a little, “Listen, you hardly know me, I don’t want to intrude on your little secret society. However, you have my card, you can stop by the gym anytime. We have boxing equipment that you can use too.”

“Aight...cool...I’ll come and check it out,” Adonis pockets the card, “Nice to meet you, Erik, sorry for the way I came off at you earlier, my anger can be a bit out of control,” Adonis lets out a nervous chuckle. 

“A bit? I get this vibe that it’s more than just a bit,” Erik turns to leave, “Don’t hesitate to stop by and get a good work out in! Enjoy the rest of your time here at Comic Con.”

“Will do,” Adonis salutes Erik before turning away and disappearing into the sea of people.

________________________________________________________

Elite Body Edge is designed with the purpose of building strong foundations by balancing flexibility, mobility, strength, conditioning and nutrition as well as giving you the perfect sculpt to turn heads; because a strong and sculpted foundation makes a power house. With an arsenal of knowledge, from competition preparation to rehabilitation to strength and conditioning, Elite Body Edge can design a program for any body habitus to achieve any fitness goal. They offer one-on-one training, group sessions and accountability programs to best fit your needs. Why train with Elite Body Edge? No contracts with affordable month-to-month membership, a safe environment to learn proper technique from experienced trainers, a flexible schedule with a variety of group classes to fit your schedule, and an encouraging atmosphere to make working out fun.

Elite Body Edge is a high-end gym experience. Some of the club amenities include, locker rooms complete with sauna and massage chairs, rooftop deck, group fitness classes, premium strength and cardio equipment including LifeFitness, HammerStrength, Precor, and Star Trac, and an amazing aquatic area for swim-fitness. Some of the classes include Restorative Yoga, H.E.A.T Camp, TRX, Feel Fit Naked, Boxing, Self defense, Spin, H.I.I.T, Yogalates, Circuit Burn, and many more. It’s located at 8053 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA. It’s striking architecture was designed by National Design Award winner Ian Jackson of Studio Sofield. It’s 30-foot video wall for virtual-reality cycle classes is exceedingly popular, and it’s soaring 25-foot ceilings supported by illuminated linear columns and over 40,000 square feet of state-of-the-art equipment, Elite Body Edge is a modern-day escape straight out of a sci-fi film. 

Erik is no stranger to the gym. Over the years he has received multiple certifications in performance enhancement, TRX Suspension and is a EliteFirst Certified Level 1 trainer, which he has employed as a strength and conditioning coach for the nationally recognized Fremont High School Basketball Team which has produced multiple athletes in the NBA. He supports the youth and employs them to stay active and live a healthy lifestyle. The fitness mogul himself was wrapping up a TRX tactical training course. Most of the occupants are military trained or athletes and with Erik’s skills it can keep them performing at the highest level. Sweaty, heart rate spiked, muscles fueled, and a round of applause, Erik puts up one hand with a black training glove to settle the cheers from his hard working pupils. 

“Nah, y’all should be clapping for yourselves,” Erik wipes sweat from the tip of his nose, “You guys did an amazing job today. The shit is tough but I see improvement and progress. We’ll meet at the same time next Wednesday. Remember, get some rest, stay hydrated, and eat a well balanced diet.”

Everyone gathered their things and exited the class. Erik grabs some cleaning solution and a few disposable cloths to wipe down the equipment. Gym playlist on, you wouldn’t be able to keep Erik’s energy down for one second. He’s so amped up that he could go for another training session; work on his hamstrings and calves some more. Satisfied with his cleaning, Erik exits the classroom, the double glass doors closing behind him. The energetic, hip-hop music pumped up his clients to finish their workout sessions. The air circulating the gym masked the usual odor that comes with sweating and his gym staff are very vigilant on keeping the place tidy. His staff wears black workout gear from head to toe with the gym logo on the front. 

As Erik walks through his gym, checking things out, a familiar face catches his eye. Training on an Everlast Powercore Dual bag with a speed bag attachment is the eye-candy from Comic Con just a week prior. He’s shirtless with a blue Adidas face mask on and fingerless black MMA gloves. His gym shorts hung low on his hips and his feet danced back and forth in his Speed-Flex boxing shoes in time with his fierce punches. Erik wondered when he became a member. He didn’t expect for Adonis to even take up the offer on joining the gym. Smirking, Erik strolls over towards Adonis at the same time as one of Erik’s pilates trainers, Andrea does. Andrea is wearing a black sports bra with the gym logo and black biker shorts. Her sleek platinum blonde pixie cut made her glistening peanut skin pop. Her dark brown eyes held recognition as well as lust. 

“Donnie?” Andrea says with a sultry voice, “I knew that was you,” Andrea popped her hip out, staring Adonis up and down with a big white smile, “How are you?”

Adonis takes off his face mask, those thick lips extra moist from the perspiration on his skin, “Andrea, w’sup? I’m doing good…” Adonis seemed to be thrown off by her presence. From the way he looked at her with his chocolate eyes, they must have had an interesting relationship. Erik took note of the way Adonis sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and Andrea licked her lips and touched his arm with her fingertips. 

“Why don’t you come and see me anymore? We used to have a good ass time...what happened with that? Got tired of me?” Andrea says with a single brow raised.

“I’ve been busy,” Adonis looked away awkwardly, the fresh scar above his right brow catching Andrea’s attention. 

“Busy getting into a brawl? What’s that scar about?” 

“You know me…” Adonis turned away, “Can’t pass up a good fight.”

Andrea didn’t hide her sexual appetite for Adonis from the way her eyes swept over his body, silently telling him how his ripped physique turned her on. Just when she allowed her eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch, Erik was there next to her, the form-fitting Under Armor short sleeve grey top he wore drenched and molding with his well-built curves straining against the fabric. Two sexy men with twin facial features that made her drool like a love-sick dog. 

“Didn’t think you would show up,” Erik held his hand out to shake Adonis’ hand, “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s dope, I love the set up, I especially enjoy this boxing section...I mean, you have everything I need to help me train.” 

“Where were you training before?” Erik asked.

“Delphi Boxing Academy, but I need more free roam, too many new people to train.” Adonis replies. 

“...so, you know Andrea?” Erik looks over at her, her peanut colored skin immediately turning red and the top row of her teeth chewing on her pouty, pink bottom lip nervously. 

“Yeah, we got history,” Adonis cracks a smile, “Maybe I should catch one of your Pilates classes...watch you do that seated toe touch.” 

Erik arched a single thick brow at Adonis’ words. It wasn’t directed towards him but the seductive way he said that had a pool of desire filling the pit of his stomach. Erik knows exactly how that seated toe touch looked. Seated on the floor, knees drawn towards your chest, feet in the air and toes pointed to the sky, a complete view of a woman’s phat pussy or a man’s hefty bulge straining against the fabric of their stretchy leggings or shorts. Erik enjoys fucking a woman with a malleable body just as much as Adonis does it seems. He wouldn’t mind seeing how malleable Adonis can be.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” Andrea gives Adonis one final look up and down before walking away, “my number is still the same.” 

Adonis watches Andrea walk away, “you got a good selection on your staff, bruh.”

“Yup,” Erik agrees, head tilted to the side, dreads shifting across his forehead before he grins, baring his teeth, “gotta have options, a pretty face brings guests, it’s all business.” 

“Well, I admire your business. The dedication and strive to pull something like this together is inspirational. I put my membership in a day ago and was trying to meet with you for a personal tour but your front desk staff said you were out for the day.” Adonis says. 

“Yeah, I’m also a Biological Science Lab Tech two days a week pulling twelve hour shifts.”

“Damn, how the hell do you function?” Adonis says with a shocked voice. 

“You gotta love what you do. You should know, with your own fight club and all, living a double life...working a regular 9-5 during the day I’m guessing?”  Erik says with curious eyes. 

“I’m a Senior Trading Analyst for Smith Boardley Financial Group so, yeah, it’s like living a double life. They don’t ask questions though, which is good.” Adonis’ face shows annoyance as if he didn’t want to talk about his job. Erik senses that maybe Adonis isn’t satisfied with his daytime life, that he feels more free at night and in the ring. He hardly even knew this guy and yet he wanted to know every little detail; ask him questions. He has so many layers to fold back, and besides his reasons behind fighting, Erik hopes to make Adonis admit to his attraction to him. Only thing is, Adonis has to believe it. He’s still uncertain and confused. 

“Why do you fight?”

Silence settles between them for a short while before Adonis finally speaks. 

“Freedom mainly. I want to stop controlling everything and just let go,” Adonis closes his eyes briefly, “if it’s not working out for me...I need to find something that doesn’t...something that doesn’t define me as this perfect dude with a perfect job, and all this fucking money. The things you own end up owning you. The people around you can drag you down. When I fight, I lose control. I’ve been taught at a very young age to bottle up my aggression but all I wanna do is use my hands and to experience some feeling in this numb world...this ‘cocooned society’.” 

“So it’s not about the violence for you? I can understand that. I guess working out is a release for me...that’s an interesting method that I support,” Erik’s eyes scan Adonis’ body, taking a step back so he can blatantly check him out, “I wanna know how this fight club operates...you think I can come watch?” 

Adonis lets go of a laugh, his dimples flashing, “Yeah, man, you can come watch. I’m gonna warn you now though, it can get pretty graphic.”

“Blood? Broken teeth? Nasty scars? That shit don’t phase me,” Erik smiles, allowing his eyes to drop over Adonis’ body. Adonis leans down to grab his water bottle, taking a sip of it and completely avoiding Erik’s unwavering eyes. Why were those eyes making Adonis’ nerves spike up with excitement. It disgruntled him and had Adonis frowning from the feeling. 

“Listen, just don’t be late,” Adonis spoke with finality, placing his face mask back on, “Can’t have people wandering in at the last minute. Come by tomorrow night around 10.” 

Adonis’ change in demeanor has Erik chuckling. He has a habit of wearing his emotions on his face. 

“Will do, bro. Catch you tomorrow...champ,” Erik jeers before leaving Adonis to his training. 

____________________________________________________________

Going Underground Records was Erik’s destination for the late evening. Founded in 2001, Bakersfield's Going Underground Records is Central California's largest and longest running vinyl record store and has recently expanded with a new brick-and-mortar location in Los Angeles. They buy, sell, and trade LPs, 45s, stereo equipment, local concert promotional items (posters, flyers, one-off recordings, etc.) and more. They purchase collections of all sizes, so whether you have a handful, or thousands of records to sell, call or stop by any day of the week. They buy daily and travel to you for large collections. It seems completely deserted from the front but Erik’s instructions from Adonis’ text was to go around back through a basement door. Parking his red Audi R8 across the street, Erik puts out his weed, leaving it in his car. Opening the door, Erik’s left foot hits the wet street. 

Fully out of his car, Erik closes the door, turning to walk across the street towards the record shop. Erik is wearing a camouflage pullover hoodie with black sweats and white Jordan 1’s with a low cut style. Bringing his hood up to cover his freshly twisted locs, Erik saunters down a narrow alleyway before making a left turn ending directly behind the record shop. As soon as he approached the red stainless steel cellar doors, Erik knocks twice, stepping away just in time as a tall, carob-skinned man with a bald head and a single gold hoop earring dressed in a black bomber jacket with a dark purple T-shirt and dark blue denim jeans opens the cellar doors. He looked at Erik in an angry or threatening way, his bug-eyes practically sizing Erik up like he wasn’t welcome. Erik was expressionless, no signs of fear towards this shaq looking man whatsoever, instead, Erik pockets his hands and clears his throat to speak. 

“I’m here for rebellion.” Erik says. He was told to say this at the door from Adonis’ text after the gym yesterday. Erik stopped him before Adonis took off in his matte black Chevy corvette. They exchanged numbers so that Adonis could text him the address and password for entry into the fight club. 

“Why do you seek rebellion?” The man spoke with a voice as hard as the blade of a shovel. 

“Because of this effeminized society that forces me to live a dull and meaningless life,” Erik says with an even tone. 

“Come in, quick,” The man says, “I’m Damion, the owner of this record shop.”

“Erik,” He shook hands with the man before entering the basement of the record shop through the cellar doors. There are metal shelves filled with boxes and janitorial items. Following Damion, Erik could hear hoots and hollers growing louder and louder within the basement. A black drape ahead separated Erik and Damion from the fight club. When the drape was pulled back, the badly lit room with a boxing ring and a crowd of at least thirty people awaited Erik. The shouts and roars are angry and free in Erik’s ears. It smelled like sweat, liquor, weed, and Vaseline mixed with coagulate. 

There, in the middle of the ring with his fists tightly clenched, black boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and left nose bleeding is Adonis himself. What would be his excuse this time when he went to work the next day? Maybe that he tripped and fell face first, bloodying up his nose. He bares his teeth that are just as bloody as his nose, punching his opponent so hard that they fall to the floor of the ring, his head pinched between the floor of the ring and Adonis’ left knee. Adonis kept slamming his fist into the bridge of his opponents nose——a beefy looking white man with ginger hair and a large leprechaun tattoo on his broad back. He did it again and again in flat hard packing sounds you could hear over all the yelling until the ginger-haired man caught enough breath and sprayed blood to say, stop. Just as those words fell from his lips with difficulty, Adonis stands to his full height, fisting the air with triumph. 

“WHO WANTS NEXT? The night is just getting started!!” Adonis yells, voice like a rising storm, “THE RING IS FREE!”

“I’ll take him on!” A random black guy wearing a FedEx uniform says, pointing to a tall blonde-haired alternative-looking white guy with arm tattoos and nails painted black, “He’s been giving me a dirty look all night, let’s see what your hands are like. I had a long fucking day too,” The FedEx worker removed his hat revealing a clean faded haircut with waves, “Lets go!!! Don’t act scared now!!”

The ginger-haired white man was pulled from the ring, a bloody trail from his face following him. Adonis slid between the ropes and hopped out of the ring, walking through the crowded room until he reached a table with a series of water bottles and towels. Adonis grabs a bottle of water to drink, his grip crushing the plastic bottle before he tosses it away. Erik’s attention was brought back to the ring when the black guy kicked the air out of the alternative white guy then landed on him pounding him limp. The white guy clawed his neck for him to stop and that’s when he backed off with a viscous laugh. The blonde took this opportunity to give him a taste of his medicine. His left fist connected with the black guy's face, spit flying from between his full lips. 

Yeah! Yeah! Kick his ass! 

It was like a raging storm in that room. Erik walks further into the room, bumping shoulders accidentally with a wild amped up Al Pacino look alike with slicked back hair and what looked to be a waiter’s uniform on. These men came all the way here from their boring jobs to relieve some tension. Erik took his spot in a corner, his commanding yet piercing eyes scanning the room. He sought out Adonis again, finding him shouting into the ring. Erik was standing under one of only several lights in the after-midnight blackness of a basement full of men. In the ring two new guys are fighting. One of the men has his opponent's arms behind his head in a full nelson and rammed his face into the ring floor until his teeth bit down on the inside of his cheek. He kept going, even when the guy yelled stop. Adonis jumped into the ring, yanking the guy away and earning a right hook to his face. Erik hisses before grabbing his own jaw as if he could feel it. 

“WHAT ARE THE FUCKING RULES, HUH?!” Adonis head butts him, knocking the guy to the floor before looking down on him with vengeful eyes, “WHEN THEY YELL STOP! YOU FUCKING STOP! Get up,” Adonis throws up his fists, “I said get the fuck up!”

Yeah Adonis! Teach him a lesson!

Body glistening from sweat and muscles perfectly sculpted as if they were carved out of limestone, Adonis beats this man down with just his fists, no special combo move like he’s some wrestler. The guy had enough, throwing his hands up in surrender. Adonis smiles with his blood stained teeth. There’s grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn’t about looking good. There’s hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, except this isn’t a holy sanctuary like your grandmother would drag you to every Sunday morning to praise and worship. Erik briefly wondered who is responsible for mopping up the blood and sweat from the ring floor after all of this is over. Just standing there watching has his adrenaline spiked. Adonis raises his head towards the ceiling before opening his eyes, the low light making the blood on his face glisten. 

His chocolate eyes scanned the room and when they landed on Erik he seemed to freeze with shock but then a knowing smile appeared on his face. Erik returned the same smile bobbing his head in greeting. Adonis left the ring and squeezed through the small crowd of men before finally coming face to face with Erik. Erik’s eyes sparked as they quickly swept Adonis’ drenched body. He had to suck in a quick breath to calm the pulse coming from his dick. All this charged up, aggressive energy is what Erik craves every time he fucks a man. That fighting back before surrendering to him when all his fat dick enters them. Adonis looked like the type to fight back, Erik really wanted to see that for himself. He hoped it would be sooner rather than later. 

“Looks like underground street fights are a new favorite of mines,” Erik chuckled. 

The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled as he smiled, “Didn’t think you would really show up.”

“I’m not all bark and no bite, bruh. When I say I’m gonna be somewhere, I make it happen. Anyway, I ain’t never seen shit like this so I wasn’t about to pass that up,” Erik’s lashes fluttered and his tongue glided across his bottom lip, his gold slugs twinkling in the low light like diamonds. Adonis’ brows knitted and his eyes fell to Erik’s lips. He caught himself staring and backed away, scratching the tip of his nose and taking a deep breath, his pectorals dancing one at a time. Erik’s eyes flickered with mischief and he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I broke the code inviting you here, you know that?” Adonis looks around, “I’m surprised nobody called you out to fight them. When that happens, you have to fight. That’s the rules.” 

“I don’t abide by rules easily,” Erik’s eyes are ablaze but his voice is like melted honey, “And clearly neither do you. I do my own thing. Is there some contract you have to sign to be involved in this shit?”

“First thirty names on the list get in, if you get in, you set up your fight right away, if you want to fight. If not, there are guys that do so maybe you should stay home.” Adonis points to his left brow, “A couple of stitches fixed this, some of these guys leave here with injuries so bad they need a bed in the hospital...It ain’t for everybody.” 

“But yet here they are getting their asses handed to em’,” Erik shakes his head, “Looks like you need a drink.” 

“I do, I was actually headed to the bar around the corner after this,” Adonis lifted a single brow as his eyes peered into Erik’s, “You’re welcome to join me if you want...I can tell you more about the fight club...looks like you’re interested in joining.” 

“Maybe,” Erik surveyed Adonis’ face, “We could get to know each other a little? You know, I feel like you’re a cool dude, wouldn’t mind kickin’ it over drinks.” 

“I don’t see why not,” Adonis gives Erik a quizzical look before backing away, “Meet me at The Spare Room around the corner from here.” 

Erik chuckles as he watches Adonis back away, stroking the length of his beard while he takes in the vibe of Adonis’ body language, “Aight, I’ll be waiting for you at the bar.” 

_____________________________________________________________

“I ordered for you if that’s cool? Whiskey.” 

Adonis is sporting a black and grey Nike zip-up hoodie with matching track pants and black AirMax on his feet. He settles next to Erik at the bar before drumming his fingers nervously on the polished wood of the bar countertop. The bartender serves them two glass tumblers filled with whiskey and a black cocktail straw. Erik removes his straw and drinks straight from the rim of his glass. Adonis stirs the ice in his glass around before taking a hefty sip over the rim as well. 

“What are you going to tell your job tomorrow about that purple bruise under your eye and that bloody nose? You tripped and hit your face against a brick wall?” Erik cracks a smile.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Adonis touches the bruise under his eye, wincing a bit, “That punch was brutal.” 

“I felt that shit myself. Damn, he got your ass good.” 

“And I got his ass right back,” Adonis proclaimed. 

Erik finishes his drink before calling on the bartender for more.

“After a fight I usually get some pussy to calm me down but good pussy is hard to come by these days,” Adonis stretches his back, “I ain’t been in good pussy in a minute…”

Erik’s jaw clenched at the way Adonis said pussy. He glanced over at Adonis, watching him drink from his glass. 

“Shoot Andrea a text, maybe she’ll stop by and give you that pussy you’ve been craving,” Erik motions for 

Adonis to pick up his phone, “The night is still young, ain’t too late to get in that puss...ain’t never too late.”

Adonis arched a single brow at Erik, “...You fuck her?”

“She yours?” Erik twirled his glass while studying his drink.

“Nah, she’s not...but did you hit?”

Erik bites his bottom lip, “Once, around the time I first hired her. She got it.”

“I know, I been it before,” Adonis shakes his head, “You fuck all the women on your staff?” 

“Yeah, if they want this fat dick.” 

Adonis stirred in his seat, “Another round, homie.”

The bartender fills his glass, the liquid sloshing around the only sound between them until the bartender walks away. 

“You mad I dipped into Drea?” Erik asks casually.

“Can’t be mad at that. She’s not mine...remember?” 

“I got this feeling that if she was yours...you would use this bar top to crack my head open,” Erik flashes Adonis a dimpled smile, “That’s if you can though.” 

“You talk like you would want that,” Adonis squinted his eyes. 

“I like aggression,” Erik says with a hushed tone. Adonis looked away, pondering Erik’s words. He couldn’t explain it but the way he said that felt as if he were flirting with him. Adonis pulls his phone out of his pocket at that exact moment to find Andrea’s number. He shoots her a quick you up text before returning to his drink. 

“You from around here,” Adonis asked to clear the growing tension. It only worked a little. 

“South Central. You?” 

“Crenshaw up until the age of twelve, in and out of Juvie until my dad's wife found me…”

“Your mom wasn’t around?” Erik asked.

“She died when I was ten. Never knew my dad until his wife took me in...from there I moved to Tarzana to live in this mansion. My whole life changed. Found out who my pops was too. Apollo Creed.” 

“Shit...you serious?” Erik’s eyebrows disappeared behind his dreads, “Bro...that’s WILD...why didn’t you follow in your father's footsteps?”

“I didn’t want to be known as Apollo Creed’s son and expected to be the next Creed star. I wanted to do my own thing, you know? That pro boxer shit didn’t stroke my curiosity. All the fame, all the attention. Nah, underground street fighting is my thing.”

“I’m sure your old man would be proud either way though, you’re a hot head just like him.” 

Adonis smirks, “That’s what I’ve been told.” 

“I know mine would be proud of me...lost him to the streets back in 92’ when the riots were going on. He was an activist like my momma. He protected me from getting shot on my tricycle. It humbled me...Still got my momma. She moved back to New Orleans two years ago.”

“Those riots were crazy. I’m sorry about your father...shit is tough.” 

Erik sighs, “It is, but it just reminds me of how lucky I am to have him as a father. Made me the man I am today.” 

“Yeah...I got nothing but love for my dad even though I never met him. Took me a while to get here though, it wasn’t a walk in the park. Got siblings I didn’t connect with in the beginning but now we’re tight. Mary Anne...that’s my step-mom’s name, she didn’t have to raise me, could have left me in the system.”

“What was your real mom’s name?”

“Vivica. She was an aspiring model. My dad met her at some Hollywood party. They slept around for a while but then Mary Anne found out so he ended things. My mom got pregnant, kept the pregnancy a secret until she passed from a brain aneurysm. By then my pops was already gone. Mary Anne found out and raised me.”

“Man,” Erik dragged his hand down his face, “This whole conversation turned heavy so quick. Let’s fill up these glasses, we need more liquor.”

“I second that.”

The bartender gladly refilled their glasses. For a little while longer, Erik and Adonis talked, learning more about each other. They argued about their favorite Anime, the best clubs in LA, and other random shit that had them laughing. They had only met about six days ago and they talked like old friends catching up. Adonis asks for a bottle of water since he has to drive. The bartender brings him his bottle at the precise moment that his phone buzzes. Picking up his phone, Adonis unlocks it to find a text with an image attached from Andrea. Opening the text, Adonis’ eyes became stormy with lust and his bottom lip poked out with need. 

“Goddamn,” He muttered. Andrea always knew how to get him worked up. She’s on the floor naked with her legs spread wide in front of her floor mirror, peanut skin glistening from whatever body oil she used and that phat, creamy pussy with all her glistening pink spread open and freshly waxed for him to come play with. He remembers how sweet she tastes. Adonis’ tongue rolled around his teeth before forcing his eyes away, locking the phone and placing it within his pocket. He was about to be all up in that pussy. 

“Andrea?” Erik says with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah...she really miss me,” Adonis retrieves his wallet from his pocket, “I can cover the drinks—“

“It’s already on my tab, bruh. Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and handle your business.” 

“You ain’t have to do that, Erik,” Adonis stands from his stool.”

“Think of it as a victory drink for the champion of underground street fighting,” Erik held up his glass to Adonis before knocking back the rest of the contents. 

“I hope that’s your last drink, your eyes are so fucking low.” 

“It is, I gotta get home, I’m pretty tired,” Erik tells the bartender to close his tab before standing from his seat. He dabs Adonis, bringing him in for a brief bro hug, pulling away so that his cologne wouldn’t have his dick brushing up against his. He didn’t need that to happen so soon. 

“I’ll holla at you, Erik,” Adonis turns to leave the bar. 

Erik watches him exit before short, heated breaths escaped his mouth. Erik signs his receipt before leaving himself. While walking to the car, Erik pulls his phone from his hoodie pocket, scrolling through his messages, and finding the person he was looking for. 

Erik: Still on for tomorrow night with you and hubby?

Jodie: Absolutely💕 we’ll see you tomorrow night! Can’t wait 😘

______________________________________________________________

Andrea has an apartment at the Madison Toluca in North Hollywood, CA. It’s a three bedroom, two bathroom apartment with a black, red, and white color scheme. Adonis arrived shortly after 12:30 AM and knocked on her door. Her All black Yorkipoo—-a mixed breed of a Yorkshire terrier and a poodle, named Cookie was barking at the door when he knocked. Andrea could be heard yelling at Cookie before opening her door. Andrea beamed at Adonis with her big round eyes bewitching and her smile wide and pretty. She was wearing a teal blue Nike sports bra with a pair of black high crotch panties and bare feet. Her platinum blonde pixie cut is wet and slicked back from her shower and her peanut skin still glowed from the oil on her body. 

“I didn’t get a response from you so I didn’t think you would show up,” Andrea stepped to the side to allow Adonis entry, “What made you text me tonight to see if I was up?”

“You know how I get after a fight.”

 Adonis closed the space between them and grabbed the back of Andrea’s neck, tilting her head back enough to have her back bending before his thick tongue slithered up her neck and to her lips for a kiss. Adonis always itched for sex after a fight. His dick on swole and his hands unexcused Adonis cuffed Andrea’s ass, damn near pulling her from the ground. They continued to kiss, suck, and lick all over each other’s mouth to savor the taste. 

“Damn, got my dick heavy right now, girl,” Adonis squeezes Andrea’s ass, “come on, I want that pretty pussy.” 

“Donnie,” Andrea moaned, voice as pure and sweet as if from heaven, “I miss the way you used to fuck me.” 

“Uh-huh?” Adonis lifts Andrea off her feet, wrapping her legs around him, “How I used to fuck you?” 

“So good baby,” Andrea thumbed Adonis’ pouty bottom lip before peppering light kisses along them, “I miss your lips on my pussy too.” 

“I can’t wait to taste it again, is she still nice and creamy?”

“Always, daddy,” Andrea’s body shook with anticipation in his arms, “Damn...I’m shaking.” 

“It’s because you need this just as much as I do.” 

“I miss your big dick stuffing me,” Andrea dragged her kisses down Adonis’ neck. 

“You miss the way daddy used to give it to you?”

“Ooh, yes—“ 

“I’ma tear you up, Drea.” 

Adonis brought Andrea to her bedroom, flopping down with her straddling his lap. Andrea giggles like she always does while Adonis kisses along her neck and tongues her cleavage. Andrea’s breath is coming out shallow and fast. Adonis grabbed her face, making her look at him. 

“Breathe,” Adonis pecked her nose, “This dick ain’t going nowhere,” Adonis smirked, “It’s all for you, girl.”

“This my dick?” Andrea leans back so that she could grab for Adonis’ crotch, “It’s so goddamn thick goddamn baby.”

“I’m tryna make you cream all over it.”

Adonis was in an intense tongue-lock with Andrea while she stroked him through his track pants. She broke the kiss with a trail of spit before lifting from Adonis’ lap and dropping to her knees. A constant hiss escaped her mouth as she fumbled with his track pants. Discovering his waistband, Andrea pulls his pants and briefs down and around his ankles. That fat, long, swinging dick almost hit her in the face. Andrea grabs it before putting it right in her mouth where it belongs. While Andrea Gluck-Glucked Adonis removed his hoodie and the black T-shirt beneath it. 

“I just wanna fuck your face and eat your pussy until you can’t take it anymore,” Adonis tilted his head back, “Drea, fuck.” 

Adonis curses under his breath when Andrea gave his heavy balls some attention before bringing her lips back to that fat tip. Adonis dragged his fingers through her wet, short platinum blonde strands before palming the back of her neck and forcing more dick into her mouth. The loud slurping was something Adonis missed heavily. His hips were practically off of the bed now, lip between his teeth and eyebrows knitted together. 

“I miss this fucking mouth,” Adonis fucked Andrea’s mouth, “Shit, Drea, you still got it girl, this mouth is still a beast.” 

Andrea smirked before stroking his spit covered dick while sucking the tip. She really missed his dick from the way she was eating it up. Adonis wasn’t about to stop her, he simply widened his legs and laid back on his elbows. 

“You finna have a nigga bust,” Adonis’ abdomen flexed, “I needed this so fucking bad, make me bust, girl.” 

The eye contact she was giving him had Adonis balls so full with his tasty cum. 

“Just loving on me,” He says before chewing on his bottom lip, “Mmhmmm,” his eyes closed and his brows pressed together tightly. 

Andrea planted her hands on the bed and started bobbing her head up and down his dick while moving her head in a circular motion. 

“Slow down...yes, yes, like that,” Adonis’ lips parted. 

He could literally feel the corners of the inside of Andrea’s mouth and her tight pouty lips nice and steady on his dick. She manipulated that muscular organ in her mouth to flick back and forth on the base of his dick and his balls each time she went down. 

“Love on my dick, babygirl, Drea I’m about to bust, you ready?” Adonis’ eyes squeezed shut and he completely fell back against the bed, “good girl slurp all that shit up oh my fucking God,” Adonis exploded in Andrea’s mouth damn near making her choke. 

“Get up here,” He says, picking Andrea up and bringing her on the bed. Andrea was on her knees, shaking her slim thick booty in his face, her pussy wide with anticipation. Her cream made a mess of her pussy and it was begging to be licked up. Adonis smacks each ass cheek before giving both of them a nice, appreciative kiss. His lips tickled and they felt so moist against Andrea’s skin. She widened her thighs and arched her back more, practically pushing her pussy into Adonis’ face for him. 

“You shoving this beautiful pussy in my face?”

Andrea nods her head with a bite of her lip. Adonis turns around, laying his head between Andrea’s thighs before wrapping one arm around her waist with the other hand occupied with jerking his fat pole. Andrea sat on his face fully before grinding Adonis’ lips. He leans forward to place his lips on her pussy, serving her tongue with long trails of spit. The wiggle of his wet tongue had her lifting up on her hands, thighs shaking. Adonis takes both of his thumbs, peeling her open.

His damn tongue.

“Ooh, yes, Donnie.” 

Her entire body shivered.

Adonis’ tongue was dripping with spit and warm against her inner folds. He was in the middle of spelling out his name with the tip of his tongue all up and down her slit. With the D Andrea’s body shivered. With the O she started shuddering in breaths of gasping completion. With the two N’s Andrea clawed the bed. The letter I made a shape over her clit at the right angle. After the E He sucked her pussy into his mouth. 

“When you lick me you never miss a spot,” She said with a voice like the harmony of angles. Adonis lapped at her pussy some more in response to her words, “Donnie, please don’t stop, baby...I’m gonna cum, Donnie keep doing that to me.” 

Adonis gave her sloppy suction kisses down to her entrance and back up to her clit, keeping her lips apart so he could really get inside. He repeated and repeated, slurping and sucking and licking and kissing. He went faster and faster and she bucked her hips into his mouth, cries getting louder and louder.

“Mmmm, yes, do it like that,” Andrea said with a sensual voice. 

“How bad do you want to cum?” Adonis said before he slurped on her clit and her labia at the same time, moaning himself feeling his precum wet his fingers.

 “Really bad daddy...I wanna cum so fucking bad from your dirty mouth...make me scream.”

“Fuck. You may be a sweetheart but you a freak for sure.” 

Adonis concentrates on tonguing and sucking all the spots that have Andrea’s hips bucking and her pussy smothering him. 

“Daddy...guess what?” Andrea’s eyes watered and heat crept up her body. 

“Uh-huh, I got that pussy cumming?” Adonis’ words are muffled with the way his lips trailed all over Andrea’s pussy. 

With that Andrea’s body froze as her orgasm washed over her. Remembering how good Adonis ate her pussy wasn’t enough for her. Now she was experiencing it again while sitting on his face. He was going for round two from what it felt like. He kept saying over and over how much he needed her beautiful phat pussy and how he was going to dick her down just like that with her back arched. Andrea was ready to crawl off of him when her second orgasm hit her. She squealed so loud her throat went raw. Satisfied, Adonis resurfaced, his lips and freshly shaved chin glistening from her juicy folds. 

“Come taste how sweet you are.” 

Andrea turns, wrapping her arms around Adonis’ shoulders before licking his lips. She hummed with satisfaction while pulling him down on top of her body. 

“Pussy is gushy baby,” Adonis held all his body weight up on one hand while the other played with Andrea’s folds, “That pussy just needs me in it...I could tell from how your eyes lit up when you saw me… miss the way I bust this tight kitty open...I wanna stick my dick so deep in it.”

Adonis leans down on his elbow to kiss Andrea again while he rubbed her clit. His dick is like a swinging pendulum between his legs right now, desperate and hard for Andrea’s pussy. Adonis has enough of teasing Andrea with how fast his heart beats and how painfully hard he is. Grabbing his dick, mixing the wetness on his fingers from her pussy on his pre-cum laden dick, Adonis lined up with Andrea’s pussy before thrusting in slowly, widening her thighs at the same time. Adonis groaned when he was fully inside, making sure to watch her face so that he could see all of her expressions. 

“Ahhh, yes, that’s it.” 

Adonis’ muscular body was mesmerizing from that angle. He began to roll his hips, working all that girth and length in and out of Andrea. Adonis felt Andrea’s pussy squeeze his dick and it only made him go harder. Adonis pulls Andrea’s sports bra off, her perky breasts with dark brown nipples reminding him of Hershey kisses blessing his eyes. Adonis sucked on each titty while he strokes her pussy. The double sensation has Andrea creamy and the macaroni and cheese sound of her pussy grew louder and louder between them. 

“You taking this dick just like you used to,” Adonis pushes her thighs back, “Fuck all that moaning call me daddy while I’m in it.” 

“Daddy,” Andrea whispered. 

“Look at it Drea,” Adonis whispered back. 

Andrea’s eyes traveled down the length of Adonis’ magnificent body to his long, thick dick spreading her open. She couldn’t put into words how full she felt. 

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Adonis whispered, “This how Erik fucked this pussy?”

Andrea’s eyes flicked up to Adonis’ face quickly. She went red with embarrassment, ragged gasps leaving her mouth. 

“What? Answer the question,” Adonis pushed his dick all the way in. Andrea could feel it tickle her navel. 

“Yessssssss,” Andrea answered with an uneven breath. 

“He fuck this pussy in your bed, Drea?” Adonis’ hips were smacking into the back of her thighs, “What he do, girl?”

“He-he fu-fucked me in my b-bed,” Andrea stuttered. Adonis heard himself grunt at her response. Had he ever gotten off on another man fucking the same chick as him? No. Probably wouldn’t have cared in the past but for some reason, knowing that Erik hit Drea too has him harder than he was seconds ago.

“You call him daddy?” 

“Yes!!! Donnie, baby, it’s so much dick,” Andrea’s face frowned with ecstasy.

“And this pussy is good so you’re getting all this dick, baby,” Adonis reaches up to grab onto Andrea’s headboard and she knows what that means. Andrea held onto his waist with a death grip to prepare herself. Adonis started descending his dick all at once in Andrea’s pussy. No pause, no warning, just nothing but a fat dick with all its length sinking into her drenched pussy fluently. It felt like she wasn’t in control of her body anymore. 

“Donnie, please please please,” Her mouth opened, no words escaping. 

“Did he call you his nasty little girl?” Adonis says with a voice so gruff and guttural. He looked down at his dick working the hell out of Andrea’s pussy. The muscles in his back and arms burned in a good way. He was tearing Andrea up from this angle, “Got me going crazy in this pussy...I needed this pussy.” 

“Daddy, daddy I’m gonna squirt,” Andrea’s toes curled. Her body didn’t feel like it belonged to her anymore with the way Adonis was taking her pussy. Andrea trembled while her pussy leaked it’s sweet juices all over his dick. 

“Got that pussy cumming?!! You ain’t answer my question...he calls you his nasty little girl?” 

“No,” she spoke faintly, “He called me his nasty little bitch.” 

Adonis bit down on his lip hard. He pumped her fast a few more times before withdrawing from her tightness, flipping her over and arching her back deep. 

“Nasty little bitch? Huh? You like that name?” Adonis sounded harsh, “Keep that ass up Drea, come on baby...I got something for you.” 

“DADDY!!” Andrea wasn’t prepared for that big surprise just now. Adonis has both of his large hands on her waist while he plowed her. She never had this rough amount of treatment from him. 

“Daddy, shit,” her shoulders fell forward against the bed. High-pitched moans filled the room and her cheeks smacking and ricocheting off of Adonis’ rock hard hips was stinging her flesh. He was hostile and she loved the change. Sure, Adonis’ much gentle side was always just as good but to see him use her body the way he was it had her squirting and she never experienced squirting while having sex with him. She needed more of this. 

“Throw it back, Drea, keep going, baby,” Adonis watched her struggle. It didn’t matter to him, his big dick was nice and wet. 

“Nasty little girl, huh?” 

“Yes,” Her breath was rattled. 

“Come on and make this dick cum.” Adonis grabbed her hips, forcing her back to take all his length. Andrea screamed.

“That’s how you do it, so do it, girl, I’m not showing you again,” Adonis watched her do it right this time with a smirk, “That’s my nasty little girl… take this dick...keep taking this dick.”

“Daddy-“

“Why is this lil’ pussy so fat? Damn,” Adonis felt his nut sack jump, “Look at this beautiful, fat pussy, go ahead and cum Drea, go ahead baby.” 

“Yes, daddy, Unh!!!!!” 

Andrea slows down, Adonis taking over again, giving it to her and moaning the closer he got to cumming. 

“That pretty pussy, fuck, take this nut girl,” Adonis’ words were stuck in his throat the second he let off in her pussy with his thick cum. Thank God she was taking contraceptives because she would be pregnant with all his damn babies with how thick and heavy his load is. Adonis retracted his hips, dick sliding out and his cum dripping from Andrea’s gaping entrance. His dick left a serious imprint with how much wider her slick hole is. 

“Damn,” Andrea’s body turned over, “That was some kind of fucking,” she giggles, wiping sweat from her face, “What’s gotten into you, Donnie? baby, you were wild in this pussy tonight.” 

“Lack of pussy does that to you,” Adonis stood from the bed, stretching out his back muscles. Andrea tilted her head while staring at his dick. 

“Round two?” Andrea begged. 

Adonis sighed, “I need some water first.” 

“How do you know Erik anyway?” 

Adonis shrugged, “Comic Con. It was a random situation. He gave me his business card and that’s how I ended up at his gym.” 

Andrea gave Adonis a playful smile, “Are you mad that I fucked him? It was only once, Adonis.” 

“Nah, I’m not mad,” Adonis gave Andrea a once-over with his chocolate eyes, “But you liked that I brought it up...that pussy was choking my dick.” 

“I did. Maybe we should have a threesome. I would love it if you both fucked me.” 

Adonis felt his chest grow tight from her words. His face twisted up with confusion at the feeling. Was that...anticipation? Nervous excitement? 

“Maybe, you should get on all fours again so I can come back and get some more of that pussy,” Adonis responded before leaving her room to grab them both some water. 

_____________________________________________________________

Parked on a hill on Valley Ridge Ave. in View Park, CA,

Erik pulled out his phone to remind himself of the address. 4515. DVSN- Still Pray for You stopped playing when Erik turned his car off. Air Jordan 3 Retro’s, Khaki cargo pants, white T-shirt, a denim jacket, and layered gold chains was Erik’s outfit for the evening. His dreads are side swept, a few of them falling in his eyes. He slouched slightly in his gait, oozing confidence. The home is an iconic 1930 Spanish Revival with stunning city views, exceptional vintage details, custom modern updates, a large beautiful private yard with a tiered flat grassy area, patio, and an herb garden. Jogging up the steps, Erik knocked on the green door, stepping back before swatting away a moth that lingered near the porch light. 

The door unlocked, Jodie standing before Erik with a glass of red wine in her hand and a long charcoal grey T-shirt dress with a high slit, coffee brown eyes fringed with false lashes and copper skin looking soft and silky. Her lush lips are glossy and her blue-black hair is in a sleek low bun. Erik’s eyes traveled from her toes that are painted a fuchsia pink up her shapely legs, over her poked out hip and up to her heart-shaped face. Sweet notes of apple and apricot wafted from her skin the closer Erik got to her. He leaned down to kiss her glossy lips delicately, his tongue tasting the gloss. Jodie’s oval-shaped pink ombré nail skimmed Erik’s jawline with fascination. 

“Hi,” Jodie said with a pleasant voice. 

“Hey,” Erik whispered back, the suave way he said it causing Jodie to nibble on her lip. 

“Do you want some wine?” Jodie offered. 

“I’ll take some wine,” Erik closes Jodie’s front door, “Where is the party?”

“For now, in the living room.” 

Jodie pointed towards the area in question before walking away with a sway of her extremely thick hips towards the kitchen. Erik found the living room, Jodie’s husband, Vance, seated on the couch, smoking some weed, denim cut-off shorts on, an olive green linen short sleeve button-down shirt with a bandanna print open and revealing his athletic body. The deep brown complexion of his skin looked satiny beneath the living room lights. His chiseled face with sharp cheekbones made him look like a male model and Erik especially loved the nose ring on his broad nose. His full lips smirked at him before taking yet another puff of weed. That fresh fade with glossy waves and perfectly groomed beard has Erik lusting even more. 

Vance spoke with a husky voice, “Erik...glad you came.” 

“Me too...let me hit that.”

Vance shared his weed with Erik. 

“Training TRX on Wednesday next week?” Vance asked. 

“I am. I’m not here to talk about my gym though, you know that,” Erik said, savoring the weed, “I ain’t know you went both ways, Vance.” 

Vance cracked a smile, “Yeah, I’m bisexual. Me and Jodie. We’ve been trying to hook up a threesome with a man for a while and then Jodie said she saw you out a few weeks ago at the Avalon with some dude tonguing him down.”

“A date I met on Tinder, fucked him good that night too,” Erik’s head relaxed against the couch, licking his lips to the memory. 

“I bet you did,” Vance passed the weed, “He takes it well too?”

“He needed to be trained, but I’m good at that..have them coming back for more in no time.” 

“Mm,” Vance’s eyes glossed down to Erik’s crotch where his dick print was visible on his left thigh. Vance shook his head as his breath rushed out. Erik was a big boy. 

“You looking for something?” Erik spoke softly, the sensation of the weed sweeping deeper, “it’s right here,” Erik squeezed his dick, the cargo pants molding around the shape of it, “You want this dick?” Erik’s eyes looked at Vance’s big lips and he just knew those juicy lips would feel fucking fantastic sucking on him. 

“I do, I want that dick.” 

“Put that weed out and come get it, that’s why I’m here right? Get the fuck over here,” Erik takes off his denim jacket, widening his thighs, “That pretty ass mouth you got...I need my dick sucked now…do it slow too.” 

Vance’s hand gripped Erik’s dick through his pants. Erik made it jump against his hand. Vance let out a groan. 

“Come on, boy, my shit is thick right now.” 

Vance went to work on Erik’s pants, pulling them down and around his ankles. He couldn’t wait to satisfy the beautiful massive dick in front of his eyes. Slide that big dick in his hungry mouth and drain his balls. Speaking of balls...they are heavy and soft to the touch. Erik slouched, pulling his T-shirt up to reveal his taut abdomen, defined pectorals, and bulging biceps. His dick was standing up and the veins looked like a work of art on his chocolate pole. 

“From the way you’re looking at it I can tell you’ve been wondering just how big this dick is...right, nigga?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah...it’s here for you and your wife...where is wifey at anyway? Jodie!” Erik called for her.

“I’m here—Ooh,” Jodie sauntered over and placed Erik’s wine on the coffee table. She’s in her purple lace bra and panties set. Jodie dropped to her knees next to Vance. She stared at Erik’s dick in a trance. 

“Let me feel those soft ass lips, Vance,” Erik slapped Vance on the cheek, startling him, “Yeah, you taking too long, baby boy, all this fat dick in front of you. Show your wife how you suck some nut out of the dick.”

“Damn, Erik,” Jodie’s eyes are love-struck. 

Vance gripped Erik’s dick and pumped him nice and steady, making sure to squeeze a little just beneath the tip of his dick so he could watch his pre-cum spill from his slit. Spreading the pre-cum along the sides of Erik’s dick, Vance’s big lips engulfed half of Erik’s dick, bobbing his head while reaching down to gently squeeze his balls. Erik kept his gaze pointed downward, looking from his dick being sucked by Vance and Jodie watching with envious eyes. Jodie has to grab hold of something so she placed her hand over Vance’s erection, his visible erection pressed hard against his denim cut-offs. 

“Two big dicks just for me,” Jodie spoke with excitement. 

“Don’t worry, ma, you’ll have some of this dick in your mouth too, Fuckkkk...yeah, suck that shit...suck that fat dick...oooh, you really wanted this shit, hungry ass nigga...don’t get too greedy your wife need some of that too.”

“Yes I do,” Jodie has Vance’s jeans and briefs down with his dark chocolate dick in her hand, nice and warm. It’s more so long than girthy. She jerked him while watching Vance slurp up Erik. 

“Vance...baby...get that dick,” She whimpered. 

Erik will never get over how good Vance’s lips feel. He thrust his hips, forcing more girth and length into Vance’s greedy mouth. Damn, he can deep throat too. 

“Look at you deep throating this wood, boy. You miss big black dick in your mouth, yeah? Miss a nice pair of heavy balls too? I got a load waiting just for you...all you gotta do is be a good boy…”

Erik’s eyes went so low that his long lashes made them seem like they are closed. Jodie’s hand twisted Vance’s erection and each time Erik’s dick hit the back of Vance’s throat, his dick would jump in Jodie’s hand. She arched her back and brought her lips to Vance’s dick. Jodie wasted no time slurping along Vance’s dick. One look at Jodie’s ass in the air has Erik reaching down, his thick fingers clawing her lace panties and yanking them from her ass in pieces. That action made her lips tighten around Vance’s dick and Vance moaned. 

“How that dick taste Jodie?” Erik asked. 

“Delicious,” She said before slurping Vance up some more. 

“Got that phat ass in the air...I already know that pussy phat with the way it sits in your leggings at the gym…”

“Mmm,” Vance cast his eyes upwards watching as Erik’s toned abdomen is exposed, reaching up to run his hand along the deep ridges of the cut muscle, slurping along his dick. He worked more of Erik into his mouth until his nose touched his trimmed hairs, feeling his length curve down his throat as he took him all the way. 

Jodie was in the middle of gagging on Vance’s dick, her spit staining the carpet the more she tried to swallow him. She reached beneath her, hand finding her creamy pussy before spreading her folds to rub her clit in circles. Erik could hear Jodie’s pussy from his seat on the couch. He groans deep, mouth hanging open from the way Vance was sucking him. He tilts his head to watch Jodie while holding the back of Vance’s head to fuck his throat. 

“FUCK!” Erik let out the curse before gripping Vance’s throat, hips jerking from how purposefully tight Vance’s lips are as his mouth slipped off, “Let Jodie have some.” 

Jodie’s lips popped off of Vance’s dick. Erik gazed at Vance’s dark brown dick. All that dark chocolate. He’s long as fuck too. Ain’t nothing Erik can’t handle down his throat. Too bad tonight was his night to get all the work. Jodie moaned before gripping Erik’s spit covered dick. Her tongue flicked Erik’s dick before she locked eyes with him, batting her false lashes like she’s innocent with all that fat dick in her mouth. 

“Damn, girl, crazy with it,” Erik leaned forward to slap both of Jodie’s cheeks hard, “Got all this hard dick down your pretty little throat...got your Hubby taking off his clothes...you see your wife sucking my dick, Vance? She a dick hungry bitch.” 

Vance is completely naked now. He pumped his long dick while leaning over Erik’s lap to hope for Jodie’s lips to slip off so he could take over again. Jodie lets her throat get fucked, gagging only slightly before fighting it back down, eyes turned up to watch the pleasure on Erik’s face as she feels Erik’s dick stretching out her esophagus. Jodie moans around his length, reveling in the taste of Erik on her tongue.

“Jodie,” Vance calls to her while gently squeezing Erik’s balls, “put his dick in my mouth.”

“You want some more of his hard, thick dick? Here,” Jodie feeds Vance Erik’s dick, “Suck it baby…”

“Husband and wife working together...Jodie...let me see that pussy,” Erik showed her how wide his tongue is. 

Jodie climbed onto the couch, turning with her ass facing Erik before bending over on her knees. Her pussy lips are pushed between her thick thighs. Two slippery lips that he wanted to kiss. 

“Spread your cheeks so I can see all that pink pussy...mmmmm,” Erik hisses, “Pussy creamy as fuck,” Erik licks his fingers before resting them on Jodie’s protruding clit and labia. He loved how smooth and soft she is. It looked like chocolate and from the way she tasted on his fingers it was just as sweet too. 

“Come here,” Erik spoke firmly, slapping Jodie’s ass, “lay on your back and spread your thighs so I can finger fuck you.”

“Unh—“

“I wanna feel how tight this little pussy is.” 

Vance jerks Erik’s dick before slobbering on the tip of his dick, “It’s tight...she’ll grip you.” 

“That’s what I want, right Miss Jodie?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Jodie says with a lick of her lips. 

“There you go, baby boy, suck that fucking dick up, suck daddy’s dick up,” Erik demanded. He could feel his balls grow tight and he knew what that meant. He didn’t want to cum yet, not until he had his dick in Vance’s ass and Jodie’s pussy. 

“Erik,” Jodie called to him with a melodic voice. 

Erik watched her bring her knees to her chest, that pussy wide open and her slippery hole winking at him. Erik couldn’t hold back from rubbing Jodie’s clit back and forth before slapping it, causing her to whimper. Erik smoothed his fingers down her pussy before pushing two fingers inside, biting his lip at the way Jodie gasped. 

“Tight fucking puss,” Erik strokes with a curl of his fingers, “I’m digging baby?”

“Yess,” She cries.

“I hear that pussy,” Vance says with spit hanging from his mouth. 

“Come suck her clit,” Erik commanded. Vance and Erik got down on the floor between Jodie’s thighs. Vance spreads her pussy lips so wide that her labia stretched. Erik was astounded when he saw how much cream spilled from Jodie’s pussy. Vance’s tongue curved at the tip while he teased her big clit. 

“Clit big as fuck, Vance stop playing, suck that shit up. Clit nice and phat like that you better suck it.” 

When Vance’s lips wrapped around Jodie’s clit she moaned to the ceiling. Vance reached up to pull the cups of her bra down, her big, round breasts spilling over, creating a mouthful. Erik damn near drooled. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while his fingers played all in Jodie’s pussy. Vance was slurping loudly on her pussy and it had Erik slapping Vance’s firm ass. 

“Yeah, nigga,” Erik says, “Got the whole puss in your mouth, make this bitch cum...say, I’ma make this pretty pussy cum.” 

“I’ma make this pretty pussy cum,” Vance says before French kissing Jodie’s clit. 

“I’ma make it squirt,” Erik flicked his tongue on Jodie’s nipple before showing some attention to the other. Jodie gripped his dreads when he went back and forth with sucking her nipples. He had her thrusting her chest into his mouth. 

“Grip me like that again, go ahead, ima put my face in your pussy next,” Erik spoke roughly. 

“Eat my pussy up,” Jodie widened her legs, “There’s plenty...slurp me up daddy.” 

“Nasty bitch, I like you,” Erik was face to face with Vance, “Let me see how that clit fit in my mouth.” 

Vance chuckles before giving Erik some room to eat on Jodie. He helped him by keeping her pussy lips open. Erik was still working his fingers, practically stirring all in Jodie’s creamy cavern. Erik kisses Jodie’s clit, the pecks slowly turning into full blown French kisses that has him opening his mouth wide to wrap his lips around her. 

“Mhm,” Erik’s eyes rolled shut.

“Taste good, yeah?” Vance said while extending his neck to kiss Jodie’s lips, “That’s your pussy on my tongue.”

“Mmm, I taste lovely.” 

Erik spits on Jodie’s clit before working his tongue with so much gusto that Jodie and Vance watched with awe. 

“Ooooh, He’s stroking my pussy with those thick fingers...oooh, I’ma squirt…Vance, baby, he’s gonna make me squirt, baby,” Jodie grabbed for the back of the couch. She became spasmodic and Vance had to hold her down and kiss her lips to distract her so Erik can keep going. That bitch was leaking all in Erik’s mouth. He sucked her up again before tasting his fingers. Vance leaned over Jodie’s lap, getting some of Jodie’s pussy too. 

“Pussy is so goddamn good,” Erik gripped Jodie’s jaw, pressing his lips into hers, “I can’t wait to bust your shit wide open, let’s take this shit to the bed.”

Pulling his lips away, Vance stands with Erik, both of them picking Jodie up. She had her legs wrapped around Erik while Vance stood behind her cupping her titties. Erik bounced Jodie on him like he was fucking her standing. Vance kissed and sucked on her neck at the same time. All three of them took their fun to the bedroom. Jodie grabs some condoms from her dresser, begging to watch Erik fuck Vance first while she rode his face. Vance went to lay on the bed, his knees drawn to his chest. Erik was blessed with the sight of Vance’s tight asshole and heavy balls with his dick resting against his toned abdomen. Jodie climbed on top of Vance’s mouth, turning to give Erik the condom and lube. 

Erik spits on Vance’s asshole before sticking his finger inside. With his free hand, Erik jerks Vance’s long dick 

To keep him solid so he could have something beautiful and chocolate to look at while he banged his ass. Jodie was currently popping her pussy on Vance’s tongue, legs in a squat so her pussy could be nice and spread for him to suck up. It was a beautiful sight. Erik almost wanted to bust from that alone. Staring at Vance’s body now made him think about Adonis. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Adonis. Nice big lips, sexy rock-hard body, aggressive and competitive, sexy smile, chocolate eyes all intense at one minute then gentle the next, the way he fights…

“Erik I love the way your finger feels in my ass.” 

Vance’s words broke him out of his trance.

“Yeah? Ain’t shit compared to this dick, boy,” Erik removes his finger, grabbing up the magnum to place on his dick. Rolling it over his glans all the way down to the root, Erik applies a little bit of lube for some extra slip. Bending his knees, Erik forced Vance’s thighs back before slapping the weight of his dick against his ass, sinking inside of his warm, tight ass. 

“Damn boy...damn...ass tight as fuck,” Erik started grinding his hips, “Feel all that thick dick pumping?” 

Jodie looked over her sweaty shoulder and saw Erik’s fat condom covered dick thrusting in and out of Vance’s ass. She felt chills all over her flesh and the sexy moans against her pussy and groans from Erik made her cream even more. Jodie can see Erik and Vance’s muscles ripple and flex with their movement. Jodie turned around so that she could 69 with Vance, grabbing his long dick up and going straight at it with a bob of her head. Vance clapped her cheeks before eating both of her holes. 

“Fuck, that’s what I’m talking about Jodie, eat that dick up,” Erik pushes her head down further, “There you go, deep throat that shit.”

Vance was working his hips to take all of Erik’s dick, Erik caught that, rolling his hips to meet Vance half-way so that his dick could be all up in his ass. 

“Got this nigga working his hips to get all this wood,” Erik bites his lip, “ass is creaming already too.” 

“Mmm, I wanna see,” Jodie jerks Vance’s dick while admiring her husband's creamy asshole grip Erik’s dick, “Vance...baby...he got you creamy, mmmm, Vance.

Vance moaned into Jodie’s pussy with each suck. 

“That’s it baby, make this pussy cum...oooh I feel you tugging on that clit, make me nut baby,” Jodie’s eyes almost crossed, Oh God...Oh God...fuuuuuuckkkkkkk babyyyyyyyyyyy—“

“Face hella sexy when you bust, girl,” Erik wrapped his arms around Vance’s thighs and started ramming his dick deep, big balls slapping against his ass. Vance’s core tightened and it seemed to shoot straight to his dick because now he’s cumming in Jodie’s hand. Jodie licked as much away as she could but he kept on erupting. It was Erik’s pounding deep in that ass that had him making a big mess. 

“Oh shit, Erik, fuck,” Vance stared between Jodie’s thighs at Erik, “Dick is all up my ass——“

“I’m taking this ass?” 

“Yes, daddy.”

Jodie could not stop looking at Erik’s hard dick fucking Vance so good. Erik leaned over Vance, his naked chest and those gold chains hanging over Vance’s body. His dreads hung low and he bit down on his lip, working his hips fast and skillful. Jodie needed that dick in her pussy. 

“Ima nut again,” Vance’s handsome face crumbled, “Fuck, Erik, ima bust—-“

“Yeah, nigga, I’ma make that dick cum while I beat this ass up good.” 

Jodie cupped her pussy and rubbed it up and down to the sight of Vance shooting out yet another thick load. Erik pulled out and rocked back on his heels, watching the way Vance’s ass quivered. There is a creamy puddle beneath his ass. Erik removes the condom, walking to Jodie’s dresser to grab another. Rolling it over his still hard erection, Erik walks up to Jodie picking her up and wrapping her legs around him. Erik sits back on the bed, Jodie over him with his hands cradling her ass.

“It’s time to get in you now...nothing but dick deep in your guts…”

Vance stood up from the bed and jerked his dick watching Jodie grab Erik’s dick herself, squatting over his dick before lowering her hips, that thick dick nothing but a flesh covered pole for her to fuck. Jodie was up on her feet, upper body bending over so she could bounce her hips. Her ass cheeks clapped with each bounce while she fed her pussy some dick. Vance went to lay next to Erik so that he could have a better look at his wife handling Erik’s dick. 

“You see that sexy little pussy taking all this dick?” Erik says to Vance before his eyes zeroed in on Vance’s erection, “Dick long as fuck...tear some ass up with this.” 

Erik started Jerking Vance’s dick.

“Get that dick, ma, nasty ass bitch...got my dick all in that pussy...I bet that ass looks real juicy bouncing…”

“This big ass dick.”

Jodie’s cream coated the condom.

“Good dick…” She moaned, “mmmmm, some good fucking dick...so thick...Unh, so good.”

“She’s loving that,” Vance says before grunting from Erik’s thumb stroking his tip, “I love that fat dick too.”

“I know you do, baby boy,” Erik gives Vance a sexy smirk. 

Erik liked the feel of Vance’s dick in his hand but he couldn’t stop wondering how Adonis’ would feel against his palm. Is it thick with a little bit of curve? Does it have length to it for Erik to deep throat? Is it soft to the touch yet textured from his thick veins? He couldn’t shake it. He let go of Vance’s dick and grabbed Jodie’s ankles, picking his hips off the bed and serving her more dick. He didn’t let up on his strokes, knocking the wind out of her chest and making her shout. Vance took over with jerking his dick while his eyes focused on Erik’s powerful hips. 

“KEEP FUCKING ME!” 

“Make her cum, Erik...Make that pussy cum,” Vance said.

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” Erik gritted his teeth, “cum on this dick, bitch...get you some of this dick...she about her business look at her,” Erik and Vance watched Jodie work her hips on his dick, “bounce that shit.”

“Hell yeah, I love watching that big dick pound her pussy,” Vance leans over to tongue Erik’s neck. Erik gripped his chin and flicked tongues with Vance. He broke away from him to moan out. His balls contracted rhythmically with his dick and that was a sign that he was ready to pump his fat load all over their faces. 

“Get down on your knees, both of y’all, hurry up, fuck, I gotta bust!”

Vance and Jodie are on their knees and Erik stands before them, snatching his condom off before fisting his dick. All of that cum squeezed out from his heavy sack all over Vance and Jodie’s face, mouth, and wiggling tongue. 

“Clean this dick up,” Erik spoke with a gruff tone. Both of their tongues battled for a taste. The feeling of two sets of lips on his dick made more cum dribble. Vance took over and sucked him, Erik pulling his dick from his mouth to give Jodie some. He allowed his dick to swing back and forth for them to catch and suck. 

“Y’all gon’ have me fucking again,” Erik shook his head, “Damn...y’all love this dick.”

Watching them attack his dick had Erik satisfied but there was still part of him that needed more. 

Adonis was going to be trouble...if only he would accept his attraction for Erik so he could really show him how badly he needs him. Erik wasn’t going to wait too long either. 

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[abetterencounter]

A preface: The sad thing about getting older is that terms blossom and die over and over. I may use a term that is anachronistic to those versed in academic language of today. The last time I wrote anything on this topic was 20 years ago.

I The Past

Memory is a funny thing

I don’t remember Pennsylvania. We moved to Memphis when I was 5 and the only thing I carried with me was the name “Byron”, a friend, and an image of a crayon shaped ride-on toy. Memphis is my childhood. There I grew into a person. I learned I was Black in Memphis.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know before. It’s more that I thought of myself as “Ghanaian”. In Memphis I learned that “Black” meant something. It meant where you sat in class, who you talked to at recess, at lunch. When the teachers would call on you and when they wouldn’t. I learned to interpret when my parents were “putting on a brave face” and I therefore was also supposed to put on the same “stiff upper lip” to uphold the family honor. When authorities would come to my aid, and when they would encourage my aggressors. It meant not knowing if “that new restaurant that opened down the street” was going to seat you the time you begged your parents to take you.

The South is a maze.

My parents were no help. They are African and couldn’t relate to anything my brother and I were experiencing. As children my brother and I had more “Ghanaian British” accents and as jokes we would speak to each other with exaggerated phrases of our mother’s. One day at after-school camp one of the counselors, Keith, overheard me doing this and said I was mocking him. My brother and the other children all came to my defense explaining that we always talk like that because our mom is “English” (we didn’t always explain it for people). Keith said I was lying; my mother wasn’t from England and that I had to sit in the quiet room for the rest of the evening if I didn’t apologize for mocking him. My brother and I locked eyes and gave each other a look of recognition, why: Keith was one of our “bullies”. When you’re a black kid they come in all sizes and the problem with Keith was that our being in his after-school camp was a problem. His solution was to put mostly me in time out every other day or so. Or arrange activities to exclude us. When my mother arrived to pick us up, she made me apologize to him through tears not understanding my obstinance. Days later she asked again, trying to work out what had happened, and my eight-year-old brain could only articulate “he just doesn’t like us”. It was years later that we sat them down and told them: hey, we were trying to say, “that dude was hella racist and was picking on us all the time!” but what is parenting but a series of swings and misses.

My grandmother came to stay with us when I was a teenager around when we were able to explain all that had happened in Memphis. We lived by then in Columbia Maryland. Chosen, when we were 12 because they began to worry that the meaning of Blackness in Memphis didn’t leave enough space for us. My grandmother had back trouble later in life, so convinced in the power of “chiropracty” she embarked on a grueling series of “adjustments” at a chiropractor in Laurel and it became my job to ferry her after school twice a week from Columbia to Laurel. Between her shark rebukes for missed shifts we talked about EVERYTHING. It was with her I first tried to explain what it’s like to live “as a fish in water”:

They call it “systemic racism now but I called it a caste system. I said that ever since I was a kid I knew there were two sets of rules for almost everything in life where I might interact with anyone with a badge or the ability to call a badge. School prepares you for this. You learn to not loiter. To give a wide berth to white women and to fear groups of white men when they are drunk and if you don’t know them really really well. I tried to explain to her that, unlike racism as a thing that “happened to her” when she traveled to the west, racism defined a large part of my experience because it is part of the underlying foundation of the country. That as a black person your status, at the bottom of the caste hierarchy matters. She was at first puzzled then troubled that all day, mostly without thinking, I make status calculations in my head, when I go to the bank, when I walk into a meeting, when I get a car repaired, when I plan a vacation or where to live. When people began to call it “structural” it fit. It made sense.

And as you mentioned: A portion of the country has been grappling with our historical and “present” caste system, now termed structural racism. But the backlash that started with books by Ibram Kendi has now begun to sweep away books about the Jewish experience in a misguided attempt to stop the process of “peering under the rug to see what’s hidden” but it’s futile: the secret is out.

There’s another concept though, that I don’t think we have figured out. I call it “cultural oppression”. I think we’ve begun to talk about it when we talk about it a little when we talk about “microaggressions” or like the better intersectional approaches that look at the power dynamics at play when Jews, given little other options, were put in the position of being the face of “big capital” or “the steamroller of progress” rolling over and taking advantage of the brown masses. Which goes some of the way into explaining the enmity… But it doesn’t capture something I learned.

Like you, I was never confused about being white. The Jews I knew in Memphis, while “white” in the sense that they weren’t getting pulled over by police, weren’t “culturally white”. I think if you asked many a Memphian Jew over the age of 40 whether they think of themselves as “white” or as “a Jew” first, most would say the latter, even the somewhat assimilated. But Maryland is a trip! Here I got to see the promise of America made manifest! Here Jews whether shtark and nails or universalist didn’t really think about it. I didn’t think of it as odd until I got married year later and the climate had changed.

How had that happened? Why are Jews in Memphis acutely aware of their status as “other” despite objectively meteoric economic success as an ethnic group overall and how has my wife never thought about it? This area is a liberal bastion. Being the seat of government power meant that much of de jure structural discrimination began to get dismantled (in some ways) moments after pen was put to paper. Across College towns (important later) and places that would later hubs of research and elite thought slowly began to adopt more of the cultural mindset that would allow “life liberty and the pursuit of happiness” to be an operative goal for a wider amount of people. But there were limits: integration stalled in the schools and we never quite got started regarding social and housing integration across black and white color lines. But in Maryland, In Silver Spring in the 90s, one could grow up blissfully unaware of being *anything*.

I think that was a mirage. I think It was a mirage for the same reason that suspect we both knew America’s “post racial compact”, “signed” with the election of Barack Obama was as ephemeral as the joy we all felt: the coda to the first post 2016 SNL skit “In the end, it seems as though Chappelle and Rock are the only ones who realize just how much farther the United States have to go to truly reach a post-racial society. Even longer now, probably.” As a black man I have become expert in recognizing when someone doesn’t recognize my fellow humanity. I couldn’t describe it if I wanted to but you just know when someone is bringing “I still believe I should own you” energy into an interaction. As a convert, what I had to learn to recognize was look that says, “you are the root of all evil, the perverters of paradise and agents of elemental malevolence”. There isn’t a “structure” that acknowledges the Jewish role as the foundation of evil within the basic construct of “good and evil” within Western culture in much the same way as American power structure places Blackness at its foundation. The archetype for “evil person that betrays the righteous ruler/king/lover/town”: the greedy Jew.

I was in the market in Kumasi in Ghana at a stall selling books: copies of Mein Kampf along with a few other of your favorite white supremacist favorites, with a few more on the side for your Islamic flavored bigot. Why do people in Ghana know about Jews at all? Far far in the past there are whispers of Jews perhaps traveling through as part of some emperor retinue but Jews have never touched the land, much less engineered the fall of society from the inside for fun and profit but there it was, the myth growing deeper roots, building an outpost in a new location on the backs of Christianity and Islam and the abstract reputation the every Jew knows precedes them.

In it’s “harmless” form it’s the jokes we all laugh about and have exhausted this Jew since Woody Allen drive them into the ground: “do they see me, or do they see a shuckling rabbi intoning in a strange language?” It’s a familiar feeling for any minority. But it’s also something that power and structure analysis can’t capture because it’s not attached to any of those notions. A somewhat radical idea: Most of my peer group grew up during a time when we papered over the deep enmity just under the surface of all the cultures the grew from the bosom of Judaism but contain within them over a 1000 years of a basic storyline that defines the Jew as the basic mythological evil.

2018 was the year that searches for blood+Jews and other conspiracies start to pick up. It’s no wonder that by 2020 Q was wholesale advancing the idea that a “secret cabal of shady liberal elites who want to destroy your culture and contaminate your daughters” also want to drain the blood from your children and drink it in secret ceremonies. I’m aware that the right wing fight against minority hiring and preferred admissions is ongoing but what “makes the news” and has captured the fever swamps of right wing anger are where “progressives” (denotation, anyone, including normie republicans) who are interested in general cultural progress are “intruding” on the safe spaces of comfortable “dominant paradigm” life. It’s a sign that we’re finally work to be even start imagining a post racial world. But our weapon in this battle is a tool for analysis constructed for a specific purpose in “the lab” of social society. It is perfectly fit for purpose to describe my oppression because the main operator of oppression against Black people is status (if you doubt me, when you denigrate black and brown people, the words you use are synonymous with “animal-like”, “without intelligence”, or “grotesque”) examining the power dynamics of society allows us to trace the development and creation of a culture that continues to restrict true free exercise.

But I want to posit a theory: Culture can also shape power dynamics

One of the signs of “whiteness” is when a group begins to turn their charity money away from sectarian concerns and embraces the public square as their main mission. Like the Germans and the Irish before them Jews have embraced this “step” with zeal, more zeal than their forebearers… but a funny thing happened: Jewish donations are a source of continual suspicion. Why? One would think, if anything: Jewish charity would cause a flowering of solidarity… Power analysis give you a hint, but it also somewhat implicates Jews forced accomplices of the dominant group and only posits maybe past enmity has flowered up. My answer is this:

Jewish exercise of power looks fundamentally different than any other groups exercise to every cultural system that has the Bible or Koran at its center.

Yes, “Power creates culture” but our culture is what decides how we perceive the exercise of that power. The two “big bads” on the right at this moment are Bill Gates and George Soros. Soros, oy, what are you going to do. But Bill gates, he’s a nerd but wonder what they are saying about him…

[fires up Telegram] “Bill Gates is a secret Zio-fascist don’t take his secret shoah shots! ZOMG!” [close Telegram]

The answer for a millennia of REAL corruption and REAL heinous acts across Europe and north Africa was to point at the Jews and let “nature take its course” such was the power of the myth. Whether Jews were rich and settled, poor and landless, cosmopolitan, or agrarian. The central role has never essentially changed. Which is why “power” as a concept can’t accurately capture this type of oppression, it operates through a story that sees its expression often whena Jew attains status and power that, for other groups would deliver them to higher status. Greater wealth an Irishman or a German man at the turn of the last century accumulates the more he was insulated from the jabs of racist boors, as we turn this century the richest Jews are constant targets of straight blood libel no chaser.

If you’re still reading: Two things. To grow we have to learn to see from each other’s eyes.

To people who are Jewish: I am Black. My world is DOMINATED by power. To understand what Black people are saying when they describe their experiences you’ll have to first try to embrace that objectively true fact that America has put the most defacto and dejure obstacles in the way of Black advancement.

To people who are Black, speaking across that divide: These aren’t things Black people have said but I don’t think that Black Americans see more than the “Woody Allen” “cute” antisemitism. The ideas that you see behind people’s eye are WILD. People literally think you’re a demon, and not just “crazy” people. Just “normal” but hotep-ish leaning people. And they don’t mind letting you know in front of your kids sometimes aggressively. Sometimes you’re just eating lunch and somebody just casually suggests that “your people” control the banking system and need to stop keeping everyone poor”… I think about the Charleston Shooting all the time because from 2015-2019 there was a mass shooting in a synagogue or an attempt at least once a year.

In any case: This is dedicated to the 6 million Jews, and roughly 11 million Slavs, Romani, LGBT, mentally or physically ill or disabled, Jehovah's Witnesses, Afro-German Mischlinge, and other minorities not considered Aryan and the 15 million victims of the TransAtlantic Slave Trade.

[lifebeginsbyleaving]

You Gotta Fight... For Your Right...

TO PAAAAAAATAAAYYY

Stiles was about to take the three hundred year old tome, that Deaton told them to be extra cautious with, and lob it right at Derek's little furry werewolf balls.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal Stiles!" Derek's eyebrows twitched with annoyance.

Stiles gaped and threw his arms out. "Oh, of course. Of course you wouldn't see the importance of being invited to a super cool exclusive party. Not you mister I have sex in my really cool car with my hot ass leather jacket on and could probably seduce anyone living with an eyebrow raise! Sorry some of us are lame and need to pander at Danny's feet just to get laid!"

All of the earlier annoyance dropped from his face and a cold blank one appeared. "I wasn't aware that was the situation."

Stiles scoffed and started pacing as the pack shot each other unsure looks. "Well, yeah man. In case you're just tuning into the Stiles show, I'm undesired as hell! So, I am absolutely going to this party. Summer heat wave and unpredictable omega passing through be damned."

Stiles started to walk away like he got the last word, but Derek grabbed his arm. "You have to stay to protect the pack."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "What, you don't think you guys can handle one weak omega? Are you slipping? Unless you need protection from the heat, in which case you'll have to deal. No matter how useless you all think I am, I have more self respect than to fan you all with palm branches and bring you iced drinks in a toga." Stiles yanked his arm back and gave Derek a sharp look before storming towards the door.

Derek growled lowly at him.

Stiles turned back and sneered right in his face. "Oh you know what sourwolf, eat me! I barely ask you all for anything. And after months of nonstop threats, multiple abductions, and getting an accumulative five hours of sleep a week because of research I think I deserve a break! One party. Marcus's weekend long bashes have been legendary since freshman year and a year after school this is the first year I'm invited to it. I'm going! End of story. And you-" Stiles jabbed his finger into Derek's chest. "Can fucking deal, or find a new fragile human."

That shocked Derek enough that Stiles had enough time to storm away and slam the loft door. Even him cursing as the force nearly dislocated his shoulder didn't snap him out of it. Derek only slammed his palm into the wall once his Jeep door closed.

He turned and the pack all had shocked looks. He took a moment to calm down. "There's a rouge omega out there and he's thinking with his dick!"

Lydia hopped of the counter with a huff. "He'll be fine, Derek. He could handle one omega with his hands tied."

"What about stupidly drunk too fucking busy with some preppy asshole?!"

She shook her head. "He's resourceful and perceptive, so probably. If you're worried about him being drunk though, Marcus makes sure everyone is safe. You have to hand over keys and phones at the door. Marcus has someone to drive if someone wants to leave."

He raised a judgemental eyebrow at her. "Him not being able to contact us is supposed to make me feel better?"

Erica hopped into the conversation, "There's a landline. He'll call if he needs us. Chill. Unless there's another reason he shouldn't go to a party with a bunch of drunk, attractive, and popular people?"

Derek turned away, but could still see her smirk.

Lydia had to put the final nail in the coffin. "Besides, Danny will be there. He'll take care of him. Really well."

Derek closed his eyes so they wouldn't see the red glow reflect off the window he was staring out. "Fine. Leave. Pack meeting over. Stiles can do whatever the hell he wants."

Derek would never understand why they all seemed so enamored by him. The entire pack loved him. It made Derek's skin crawl. Even when the sheriff met him mid supernatural fight and Danny took a moment to introduce himself he immediately loved him. He exclaimed about how there was finally a teenager with manners. Derek couldn't figure out if it was the hawaiian charm or what, but everyone on God's green earth that met Danny Mahealani seemed to frickin adore him. And somehow Derek's rare disapproval got out. Mrs. Thurnbury took him aside in the supermarket and patted his arm and said, "That Danny boy is a good egg. He helped me with my groceries. Be a dear and don't murder him with your eyebrows of discontentment." She winked and left and all he could think was he helped her with her groceries first god damnit!

They started to trickle out.

Peter stood up. "Oh, nephew mine?"

Derek sighed.

"Would your objections have anything to do with the Mahealani boy rejecting your offer to join the pack? Or maybe the corrupting and subsequent poisoning of the token human's liver that you find fault with. Or maybe the pounding that Stiles could get fro-"

Derek's fangs joined his threatening growl.

"From that rouge omega. Only if it were to show up to that party. Small chance though, as we said." Peter smirked. "So nothing to worry about really."

"Get out before I show you out. The third story window."

Peter gave him a consoling look as he passed. "No need to get so worked up over the boys rejection. He simply wants to stay out of supernatural matters as much as possible. Besides, I think he's got all that he wants from this pack." He dropped his voice lower even though it was unnecessary. "I would suggest figuring out if you do before it is no longer available. Or rather, he isn't." Peter looked smug as he sauntered out.

Derek looked up with relief to see that only Scott was left in the loft. Scott sent him a consoling look. "Don't take it so hard dude. It's just a party."

Derek felt frustration bubbling up. "Exactly Scott. It's just a party. And he goes and acts like that." Derek shoved his hands towards the door he had slammed like he was still waiting behind it. "He challenged our decision and the advice of the pack over a stupid party."

Scott smiled. "I've known him since I was four, alphas or not it was not our decision. It was his."

"He could get hurt. We were worried and he did that!"

"Did what Derek?"

Derek roared back, "He said he'd leave the pack! He said it like it was nothing! He said it because of that boyslut that makes him think he's not good enough! I'll never get why he-"

"Why he what Derek, wants to have fun? Blow off some steam?" Scott nodded pointedly to Derek's clawed and balled fists.

Derek unclenched them, realizing how out of control he was getting.

Scott went over to the table to sit down and Derek followed.

"Why do you think Stiles became friends with Danny?"

Derek deadpanned, "To get laid."

Scott gave him a crooked grin. "Besides that?"

Derek shared none of his humor, but offered silence.

Scott was undeterred and used to it. "Because he's fun. Danny has this way of putting people at ease. Like no matter what, if you're with him, you're going to be alright. He's fun and easy."

Derek snorted and nodded.

"He shows people how to be carefree and enjoy themselves."

Derek grew irritated. "Why are you here then."

Scott looked sad. "Derek, why do you think Stiles became friends with Danny? I think it's because maybe he needs that. He needs fun and carefree. He needs blackout drunk and mistakes you won't remember in the morning. It's a way he can lose control without risking anyone's safety except his own. Dancing to music till it's light outside might still end with your muscles burning in the morning, but it comes with less trauma than running for your life in the woods." Scott looked devastated. "He just wants something fun Derek. My best friend just wants to be a normal teenager for a few nights. I think he just wants to remember what it's like to be okay. To be carefree. And I don't know about you Derek, but I can't find it in me to fault him for it. Not after everything he's been through."

Everything wiped off Derek's face except bare grief and guilt.

"Do I still worry about him getting home, and if he'll watch his drinks enough, and what if he's too drunk and someone is too insistent yes I do. But at the end of the day he deserves a break. From the craziness, the supernatural, the constant looking over his shoulder, the responsibility, the hurt, and yes ultimately also the pack. He's earned it. With all the research, the sleepless nights, the-"

Derek closed his eyes. "I know how much he's sacrificed for the pack. I'm sorry I didn't realize."

Scott shrugged. "I'm not the one you have to apologise to. But then again if I know him, you don't have to apologise to him either." The heaviness was gone from his face, just that lightness that Scott's unending hope brought. "Couldn't hurt though, right? He'll spend the weekend worrying about worrying you."

*** Derek had procrastinated until the very last moment. He knew Danny would pick him up soon, but Derek couldn't leave the Camaro and walk the last final blocks for some reason. He heard a car coming up the street and his eyes snapped to his mirror expecting to see Danny. He huffed and swung open the car door.

Derek opened the window silently and stepped in without a sound. He inched closer to Stiles' turned back.

He froze as Stiles started to speak out loud. "Should I pack an extra shirt sourwolf?"

Derek was silent.

Stiles turned. "No opinion?"

Derek softly mumbled, "It's always good to be prepared."

Stiles smirked. "Oh I bet you looked adorable with your eyebrows and sash asking old ladies if they needed help to get your community badge."

"What?" Derek asked confused.

"Don't worry, I won't ask Cora for pictures in your little uniform. Scout's honor. " He held up the Vulcan salute.

"Pack the extra shirt Stiles. And a sweatshirt. In case it's cold."

Stiles' face melted to a smile. "Aww it's almost like you care." He turned back to his bag. "But it is summer. Ya know, hot as balls out?"

"You get cold easily. A slight draft and you're shivering like you're naked."

"Considering the limited amount of activities I do while naked, I'm usually very hot when I'm naked."

Derek scoffed, but turned away from Stiles to keep from taking off his clothes in his mind to picture him with a slight heated blush like the one Derek had right then.

"I do hope you didn't come here to argue or try to stop me."

Derek shook his head, but then spoke, "No."

Stiles zipped his bag and turned. "Well, that clears everything up. Is it the omega?" He was still playful, but a hint of worry worked it's way in.

Derek turned quickly. "No. If we have to, we'll deal with that. I-I just came to wish you a good weekend." Derek attempt a small smile.

Stiles raised an eyebrow and put what was in his hands down. "Are you alright? Do you smell toast? What's that thing you're doing on your face? Do I need to call Deaton? I'm sure he's got like a magical milkbone that could fix whatever's wrong with your face."

Derek's face changed to a genuine smile and Stiles' eyes gleamed as the corners of his mouth also lifted.

"I'm sorry."

Stiles turned back away. Derek would take that as a bad sign, but he knew how well Stiles knew him. He knew Derek wasn't good with apologizing. He was giving him space. "It's okay sourwolf. I'm sorry too."

"For what?" Derek looked at the hands nervously folding and unfolding a flannel.

"You know what for. I should never have said that. I knew how it would effect you. You know I would always fight to be a part of the pack."

"And you know you would never have to. We know and appreciate how much you do. Even if we forget to show it."

Stiles turned back with earnestness in his eyes. "Thank you sourwolf. It means a lot."

Derek forced himself to look back into his wide brown eyes. "You mean a lot. To the pack. For all that you do."

"I would do anything, for the pack." His lips stretched into a lazy smile. "I have to finish packing." He made no effort to move away.

"I should head back." He hesitated slightly before heading to the window.

It was a few moments after Stiles heard him jump down, but he knew he would hear him. "Thank you Derek. Have a good weekend."

***

Derek was not having a good weekend.

He didn't even want to talk about yesterday and today wasn't going much better.

He sat on his couch reading a book and listening to music. After he flipped each page he'd check the time in his phone. Normally he'd be busy with something, but he had already made supper, did a long workout, and showered. Usually he enjoyed his down time, but it was too quiet. He flicked on the TV and turned his page just to turn it back to actually read what was on the page this time.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face after having to reread the first paragraph for the third time. He laid his head on the back of the couch and stared up at the ceiling.

The door flung open and a loudly laughing Erica walked in and Derek had enough.

"Just for one night can I have some peace! You haven't let me focus all day! How can three people be so loud!"

He finally looked over and his harshness faded seeing their shocked faces and arms filled with bags.

Isaac meekly spoke, "Uh Derek, we've been at the mall all day."

Derek closed his eyes. He vaguely remembered being home alone all day. "Right. Sorry."

Erica recovered the fastest. "Okay grumpy pants what's got your tail in a twist?" She shoved the bags onto a chair and plopped down beside him.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

She raised an eyebrow. "Right. And yelling at three pups who have done absolutely nothing wrong all day qualifies as okay? Maybe a couple years back, but not now. Spill the kibble."

He raised an eyebrow back at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay moderately nothing wrong. Stop deflecting."

"The omega still isn't dealt with and S-"

"Stiles is at a party?" She looked amused.

"No. And Scott's approach of giving them the benefit of the doubt and allowing them to pass through isn't exactly comforting."

"Right, sure. I completely agree that is what's wrong with you." She got up. "Boyd, come and have a conversation with mister ignore the real problem till it goes away."

Isaac piped up, "He'll do it when he's ready guys."

He dutifully walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder from the other side of the couch. "Go and see if he's okay if that's what you have to do." He walked away.

Derek hated his betas some days. Erica because she was so smug, Boyd because he was so correct, and Isaac because he was so supportingly encouraging.

He mostly hated Erica though.

***

It was another twenty minutes and they had all settled in. Erica had put on new pjs and commendered the TV. Isaac had turned off his music and Boyd had asked him about his book and he just tossed it over. He couldn't even remember the title.

He heard them before they slid the door open and didn't bother to move. As soon as he saw their expression though, he stood quickly. "What happened?" His heart was thundering already.

"The sheriff found a body. He wants us to check it out. Before he rules it an animal attack." Scott gave him a concerned look.

Allison spoke up next from where she was linked to Scott's arm. "The sheriff will probably call you soon."

Derek calmed slightly. "Take them with you. You and Allison can check out the body, see if you can figure out what happened, then if you can find a trail. The betas will fan out from the crime scene and see if they can find anything else."

Scott nodded. "And what are you going to do?"

Derek's phone started to ring and he eagerly checked the screen. "If you were an out of control omega and were lost in the woods, what would you be attracted to?" He answered the call and headed to his room to get changed. "Hello sheriff."

Scott muttered mostly to himself. "The loud party in the middle of the preserve with a bunch of drunk people."

Scott and Allison waited for the three of them to get changed, but Derek was grabbing his jacket on the way out before they were ready.

Derek was reaching for the door when Scott put a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be fine. We'll call with any information."

*** Despite Scott's reassurance he broke every speed limit on the way there. He had been searching the mass of sweaty dancing bodies for several minutes, unable to make his way upstairs yet in case of what he might interrupt. The bright flashing lights were already making him nauseous.

He got a phone call and made a break for the kitchen. He still had trouble hearing the call over the booming music, but he managed to gleam that Allison identified the body as a hunter. One with a tentative understanding of the code at best. They figured the omega was being tracked by the hunter and it was self defense. Scott called the betas and asked them to check and make sure the omega was okay, but they were no longer looking at a bloodthirsty killer and just a scared omega.

He ended the call with some relief, till he realized he had no reason to be here anymore. No reason to take Stiles back.

He took a cup from the kitchen, and despite knowing it wouldn't do anything chugged it.

If he was here he might as well check in on Stiles and let him know what happened.

He shoved his way back into the main dancing area knowing that was the best place to find him. He was near a corner when someone approached him from the side and grabbed his arm. He tensed and turned ready to strike, but not obviously.

It was Danny and somehow that made him bristle further.

Danny shouted into his ear, "Are you looking for Stiles?"

Derek clenched his jaw and nodded.

"Is it serious?"

Derek shook his head.

Danny's face morphed to a flirtatious smile. "Then stay awhile." His hand started to tighten slightly around his bicep. "Wanna dance? Or not dance?" He looked towards a dark hallway that made Derek finally grateful to not be able to hear.

Derek yanked his arm back. "I don't know if Stiles would like that." He paired it with the most murderous brows he had.

Danny's eyebrows furrowed. "I didn't think you guys were-"

"We're not. You are."

Danny laughed. "Yeah, we messed around in the beginning. Now we both decided we're better as just friends."

Derek still remained cold. "I have to find Stiles."

"Are you sure, because he looks a little busy." Danny pointed to a spastic drunk yelling and surrounded by laughing preppy vultures. One particular asshole was practically stuck to Stiles' back as they writhed to the music. He was very handsy and Stiles didn't even seem to notice. Danny spoke again, but Derek didn't turn. "We could be busy too. I'll even let you keep up the bad boy gruff act, I like it a little rough big bad alpha."

At that Derek turned back and took threatening steps forward till Danny pressed himself against the wall with a smirk. Derek flashed his eyes and bared his fangs. Danny's smirk fell and fear flashed across his face. "It's not an act. Thanks for the offer." Derek stalked to the other side of the room careful to avoid catching Stiles' attention.

"Whooooo! Body shotssssss!" Stiles' missing shirt and already sticky collarbones told Derek this was probably not anyone's first shot. A girl with messy red hair started pouring liquor into the divots above Stiles' collarbone. The crowd around them started chanting the word shots. The redhead moved to one side and handsy asshole moved to the other. As soon as they started to lick out the alcohol the crowd cheered. They both started to kiss up the sides of Stiles' neck and as Stiles relaxed his shoulders a few droplets rained down just like the blood from Derek's palms. They were clenched so hard his claws dug into them as he watched the two strangers lay claim to Stiles' neck.

Handsy asshole started to move down Stiles' body to a stray drop that was making its way towards Stiles' nipple. Derek was across the room before he even realized it.

Stiles' look of enjoyment and pure glee faded to one of confusion. "Derek? What are you doing here?"

Stiles pushed both people back to allow them room to talk and put his shirt back on. Derek instantly shoved into the space handsy asshole had previously filled. "I have to talk to you."

Stiles sobered. "Is it about the pack?"

Derek looked at those around them and handsy asshole trying to worm his way back over. "Not here."

Derek looked down and saw Stiles intertwining their hands. "We went through the crowd to get a beer three hours ago and I haven't seen Danny since. You can hold my hand for like two minutes sourwolf."

Derek nodded and just as they turned to leave handsy asshole grabbed Stiles' other arm. "Heyyyy where ya goin? We're havin fuuuun."

"I'll be back." Derek couldn't help narrowing his eyes at those words.

"What iv I wanna nother shot?" He threw in a look that supposedly was seductive. Derek thought it looked like he was taking a shit while looking directly at the sun.

Stiles let go of Derek's hand. He smiled at the man and kissed him. The man was so enthusiastic and fond of ass groping Derek looked away in disgust. "Then find Hannah till I get back."

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand again and started to pull away, but the man nearly yanked him out of Derek's grip. "But I want you Mickyyyy!"

Derek pulled Stiles behind himself and growled right in his face, "That is NOT his name!"

The man just scoffed and looked towards Stiles. "This your boytoy Micky? Hes rude, and wrong." His voice went to a stage whisper. "He doesn't even know your real name. How imporant can he be? Staaayyy!"

Derek turned with a sharp look towards Stiles. "You told him your name?! Him!?"

Stiles looked to be searching the air around him. "To be fair I got here around ten and they greeted me at the door with three shots of vodka. I don't remember the hours between twelve and two yesterday. If someone asked I probably would've told them my social security number. Today is strictly beer and a slight buzz day."

Derek held firmly to Stiles' hand as they moved away and handsy asshole started to object, "You said you'd blow me upstairs you shit!"

Derek put his hand flat on the front of his face and shoved him back with enough force that the high top table they had been using as a bar wobbled and the glass bottles on it clinked together when he made contact. Derek growled threateningly and flashed his eyes and teeth.

Derek got a small amount of pleasure from the scent of fear coming off the man. He was yanked towards the stairs by a hand that was gripping his tightly. Stiles finally found an empty room and shoved both of them in it. "What, the absolute hell, was that!"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Oh I'm sorry for taking offense for you, since you obviously didn't care."

"Of course I care! And of course what he said was totally gross, but he was drunk! What's your excuse for wolfing out like that huh!?"

Derek looked away. "Damn it Stiles! He shouldn't have treated you like you were just a fuck!" Derek once again flashed his eyes and snapped his fangs, but Stiles just growled back and snapped his human teeth back at him.

Stiles huffed out a short laugh. "That's kinda the point Derek."

Derek turned to him with squinted eyes.

"Here I want to be just a fuck. I want to be dancing in the lights and have someone desire me. Maybe I want to feel like, no matter anything else, someone wants me."

Derek objected, "You have people that want you. You don't have to do this, the pack-"

Stiles shook his head and interrupted while pacing away from him, "Not like that and you know it. I don't care if all he wants from me is a fuck. That's all I want from him, so it'd be pretty hypocritical of me. Why should you care?"

Derek gave him judgemental eyebrows. "Well sorry for hoping you had self respect. Next time I won't get in the way of you getting dick."

Stiles went stock still and turned towards him with rage in his eyes. "Derek. Are you slut shaming me right now?!"

"Well if th-"

Stiles steamrolled right over him. "Because I don't give a god damn fuck who you think you are, you do not get to tell me what I do with my body! My relationships are my business! Who or how many I have sex with is my business! And alpha or not you don't get to make those choices for me! Because last time I checked you're not my fucking boyfriend! Last time I checked you hardly ever pretend to even like me! So back the fuck off and learn what place you have in my life before you lose it!" Stiles was fuming and yelling right in his face by the end of it.

All of his need to argue flooded out of him and Derek put his hands up. He tried to put his hand on Stiles' arm, but he pulled away and stalked to the other side of the room with his arms crossed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that you were a slut."

Stiles squinted at him with malice.

"Okay, maybe I implied you were a slut, but I was mad and didn't mean it. I am sorry. I am pro slut power. Seriously, I raised my eyebrow at Laura sneaking back in come morning time and she yelled at me for two hours. Then she made me wear a shirt that said slut power for a week."

Stiles snorted and sat on the bed. Derek slowly approached and sat beside him. "You're pack. I want you to have someone that cares about you, but if that's not what you want I have to respect that and I'm sorry I didn't. I'll stop trying to stop you from going out with Danny."

Stiles nodded and was quiet for a moment.

"Derek? Why do you hate Danny?"

"Well Stiles, I believe you yourself said it was because of my complete lack of ability and hatred for doing anything fun."

"Be serious."

"Maybe for the way he makes you feel. Like you aren't good enough and you should be grateful just to fall at his feet."

Stiles hummed. "I don't think that's Danny. I do it with you too, I do it with everyone. I think that's just my own insecurities that I need to work on. I need to stop comparing myself to others. It's just hard you know? I'm a human in a pack of werewolves and badasses, it's hard not to feel inadequate. My best friend is a true alpha, and two of the people I have in my life are Danny Hawaiian god Mahealani and Derek Greek god Hale, so there's my self image shot." Stiles played it off with a laugh, but Derek frowned.

"Stiles. You aren't a human in a pack of werewolves and badasses. You're one of the badasses. I have seen you bash in a werewolves skull with a wolfsbane laced baseball bat. I mean sure you did throw up after..."

Stiles knocked their shoulders together with a chuckle.

"But it was badass. And about the god thing. I think you're-" Derek started to hesitate. His resolve firmed. "If anyone is a Greek god it's you. They say Aphrodite appeared both male and female."

Stiles gaped at him and Derek looked away.

"You couldn't be more wrong! I'm totally-"

Derek's embarassment turned to determination at Stiles' persistent doubt. "No. You really are-"

"Athena." Stiles insisted.

"Beautiful." Derek muttered breathlessly.

"Oh." Stiles cheeks colored.

Derek tried to deflect. "What were we even taking about?"

"Why you really don't like Danny."

"I don't want to talk about that."

Stiles squinted. "Implying that we didn't already, and that there's a different reason."

"No."

Stiles was silent still and Derek sighed. "I don't know. I think I just do for the way he exists."

Stiles snorted. "Harsh dude."

"Don't call me dude. And I just mean everything he does just seems so easy. He exists like it isn't hard, like he wakes up everyday knowing everything will be okay." Derek considered for a second. "He's like Scott like that."

Stiles shook his head. "No. Scott doesn't wake up every morning knowing it's going to be okay. He hopes it will be. Scott has seen and knows bad things can and will happen, he just eternally hopes they don't."

Derek nodded. "Yeah I guess so. And with Danny I think he's just never had anything touch him. He had a popular best friend, he was popular, attractive, likeable, good family, he gets nice things. He just goes through life like it's the easiest thing and nothing is hard. He lives like it's easy."

Stiles put his hand on top of Derek's. "And you envy that. So do I. I think that's what attracted me to him. We're both so used to having to fight so fucking hard just to have one good thing, and he just seems like that's all he has." Stiles laughed. "You know how we ended up kissing for the first time?"

Derek's hand twitched under Stiles. "How?"

"I was looking into his eyes and I just blurted out how much I wanted to kiss him. And he just looked at me, smiled, and then kissed me like that was the only logical thing to do. Like it was that easy. But Derek, sometimes it is just that easy. Sometimes we get a nice thing if we just tell ourselves there is more to life than pain and we deserve it. We deserve to go to parties and kiss people that we won't remember in the morning. We deserve to love people and be loved by people. Just because we can handle pain doesn't mean that is all we deserve." Derek turned to him and Stiles looked right into his eyes. "We can have easy and happy things too."

Derek's eyes started to go a bit shiny and he felt the urge to pull away, but he didn't. Stiles smiled at him and Derek's eyes tracked the stretch of his lips and before he could think of all the ways it was supposed to be difficult, he just leaned forward and kissed him.

There were a terrifying few seconds that Stiles didn't respond, but then Stiles' hands went into his hair and Derek tasted beer and something sweet. Derek put his arms around him and fisted his hands into the material on Stiles' sides. Derek started to think that maybe he could get a buzz from just kissing the beer off Stiles' lips when he moved one hand down to get under Stiles' shirt.

Stiles went still and pulled back with wide eyes. Derek instantly felt a pit in his stomach.

"Why did you do that? Oh God, why did we do that! Fuck Derek this isn't what I meant!" Stiles pushed his arms away from his sides and sprang up from the bed.

Derek felt like the action ripped a piece of him out. "I- I'm sorry. You are drunk and I shouldn't have done that anyway. I just-"

"I am not drunk. My decision making skills are quite intact, and- and I kissed you back. So I did it too. Even though it was a bad idea, I did it anyway. It's okay though."

Derek shook his head and got up and quickly started towards the door. "No it's not."

Stiles eyes went wide and he moved after him. "No. Please. Please Derek! It has to be okay! We have to be okay! Fuck I didn't mean- I didn't mean for this to happen!"

Stiles tried to catch him, but he moved out of the room and made it through the downstairs quick enough he was backing out of the driveway by the time Stiles got to the front door.

***

Derek got home and woke Isaac back up just to lead him to Boyd and Erica's room. He flopped down in the middle of their bed and soon enough they were all curled around him.

"You smell like a frat house and you're still wearing your jeans." Erica said irritably.

"I don't think Stiles and I will ever be friends again and I'd like to sleep so I don't have to think about it."

In the small amount of light she could see her face contort with sympathy before moving to annoyance. "You two are idiots."

"I'll be an idiot in the morning. Now I'm just hurt, and I need you."

Erica smiled softly at him. "I'm so proud of how far you've come. We've always been here for you-" She snuggled into his chest more. "Now I'm just glad you know it."

*** After a summary of the night before Erica once again declared him an idiot, but at least this time it was over breakfast and coffee.

They all moped with him all morning before heading out for some mystery errand. As soon as he heard Roscoe clunking closer he cursed out his betas and gathered some things before he sat on the couch to await his doom.

Stiles nervously paced outside his door for several minutes before cursing and speaking to the hallway, "You can hear me can't you?"

Derek set his mug down. "Come in."

The door swung open and Stiles walked in with wild hair. Like he had been running his fingers through it nonstop. A small part of Derek wished that he'd used the time he had to run his fingers through his hair. Just so he knew what it was like at least once. "I figured you'd want that." He nodded to the mug and pills on the coffee table.

"You are a god amongst men Derek."

Derek smiled, but then it turned bitter. "And I thought you said you didn't drink that much last night."

Stiles looked sheepish as he downed some coffee with the pills. "I hadn't. Not until you left. After that I probably drank half a kegs worth of alcohol. Definitely feeling it this morning though." He let out a weak chuckle.

Derek spoke softly. "Why are you here Stiles?"

Stiles sat down lightly on the couch. "I didn't like how we left it last night."

"Neither did I."

"Look, I didn't mean to give you the impression that that's what I wanted. Because I don't."

Derek tried to not break at that.

He really did try.

"I don't want to have you be a fuck. I don't think I could do that with you."

Derek smiled as genuinely as he could. "It's okay Stiles." He said it even though Stiles kissing him while he thought it was a happy thing they both deserved and Stiles thought it would just be a fuck did not make him feel okay.

"I'm sorry that you wanted that and that I gave the impression that I also wanted you to just be a fuck."

Derek's eyebrows went up marginally as he said that, but he quickly schooled his expression. Maybe they could salvage their relationship if Stiles thought Derek had just wanted sex.

Unfortunately, Stiles' face filled with shock. "Unless you thought it was more than a fuck."

Derek got up from the couch and turned away. Stiles quickly scrambled up as well. "Derek! I-"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does."

Derek shook his head and continued staring away. "It doesn't. Not if I want to be your friend."

"It does. If you want to be more." Stiles pulled on his arm till he turned to face him.

Derek's face looked openly hurt and broken. "It doesn't matter what I want because you don't want me. Stiles we don't get easy." Derek's hand started to lift, but it hesitated infront of Stiles' face. "We don't get happy." He smiled as his eyes held pain.

Stiles grabbed his hand before it could fall and pulled it to his face and Derek's hand instantly cradled it. "It's not that I don't want anything from you, it's that I want everything. I wasn't going to say yes last night not knowing that in the morning we would still be happy. And yes. We do get happy. And you know why sourwolf?" Stiles pulled him into a statement making kiss. He pulled back a little breathless. "Because we deserve it."

Derek looked at him confused and his hand dropped. Stiles rolled his eyes. "I don't want to just have sex with you. I want to be and make happy with you. It might not be easy though, but I'm okay with that if you are."

"Are you still drunk?"

Stiles pinched him.

"Ow! Okay I had to make sure."

"You jerk! I just asked you to be my boyfriend, the least you could do is say yes!"

Derek grinned wide. "Fine if I must."

Stiles matched his smile. "You're such an ass."

"Like you aren't annoying too."

"But now you're stuck with me." Stiles stuck out his tongue. "No take backsies."

"Nuh-uh. I'm yours, but you're not mine yet. I haven't asked yet."

Derek just stared at him till he scoffed. "Before I'm dead sourwolf."

Derek's eyes just filled with mirth and a gleam. His hand once again found the side of Stiles' face. His amusement died down and genuineness and love filled it instead. "Mieczysław Stiles Stilinski will you do me the honor of dating me?"

The perfect pronunciation had a lump forming in his throat and tears forming in his eyes. "God when did you even practice that." His voice was choked up as Stiles thought of him practicing his real name over and over till he could say it properly. "And that was so stuffy and proper. Like God what's next are you going to ask my dad if you can court me. Really it's just-"

Derek kissed him sweetly. "I believe the standard response is yes or no."

"We're difficult, remember?" Stiles laid their foreheads against each other.

"Still not an answer." Derek nudged their noses together.

"Do you really need one?" Stiles looked at him with clear love and adoration.

"Do you really not want to give one?" Derek asked smugly.

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and held out for ten seconds. "Yes. God yes. I want to have your little sourwolfie babies. I've been in love with you since you slammed me into my wall. Or maybe since I saw your car, or your jacket, or your ass, or your face, or-"

Derek cut him off again. Stiles pulled back blissfully. "Or maybe the moment you did that."

"And I fall in love with you every time you open your mouth, and somehow even more when you shut it."

Stiles pushed him away. "Rude!"

Derek smirked then started to study his face. "I won't mind if you still go to parties with Danny."

Stiles squinted. "Thanks, but I'm sure I'm a one sourwolf kinda man."

Derek's eyebrows looked flat. "No, not for that reason. Just, if you want to go have some fun. To blow off some steam and forget other things, I trust you. I know you would never do that. If you need a break to chill out, I get it."

Stiles smiled softly. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Stiles yo-"

"Derek do you know the reason why I would go to the parties? Other than to get laid."

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "To have fun. And to be happy while being safe from the supernatural."

Stiles shook his head. "No. I went to forget that I wasn't. I wasn't happy at any of those parties because I was alone. And I wasn't safe there because I was alone. I just didn't have to care there. But here with the pack on movie night? I'm actually happy. Here with you I'm happy. The only thing that made me unhappy was that as soon as I left I felt like I was alone because I didn't have the relationship I wanted with you. Here with you I am and feel safe.   There's a difference between being happy and feeling safe and just forgetting that you aren't. You make me actually feel those things."

"I'm notoriously no fun though, I guess you can't have everything."

"Oh I don't know, you can be fun. Sometimes. On occasion."

"Once in a blue moon one could say."

Stiles laughed. "Very rarely."

***

"Stiles come on, the party is inside." Derek pulled his fiance off the picnic table.

"I know, I know. It's just..." Stiles looked at the front of the restored Hale house, and Derek hugged him from behind. "This is my favorite view."

Derek took in the awe and pride in his eyes. "Mine too."

Stiles looked into the eyes already on him and rolled his own. "Could you be anymore sappy and cliche."

"We've got the rest of our lives to figure it out."

Stiles groaned. "Ugggh make it stop." Stiles dragged him towards where their pack was celebrating at the party inside.

Right when they got to the front door Derek pulled him back and into a kiss. "I'm so happy we're here together."

Stiles hugged him tightly. "Me too sourwolf, me too." He pulled back and looked into Derek's teary eyes. "Hey, hey. We deserve this Derek. We do."

Stiles opened their door to a laughing and happy pack celebration.

Of all the parties he's been too, staring into the eyes of the man he loves, Stiles decided this was by far the best one.

A.N. Well I read through this once and did absolutely no editing because these last few weeks can eat me so here's this shit. Dldr. Much love💜💜💜

                                             Carter😊

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Pairing: T. Iida x Reader Rating: 15+ Words: 4k289 Warnings: Reference of Alcohol, and angst  Requested by: No one, but requests are open! Summary: The story of Iida’s summer before UA, and how love isn’t always a good thing.

      QUIRK: Soul Beam

   The summer before high school was a fever dream that Y/n never wanted to wake up from. The sweat sticking to her skin was only ever washed away from the storms that passed through her life- note: even the pools she submerged herself in never removed the glistening water from her body because sometimes water needs a little force behind it in order to cleanse you. 

The gold and purple sunsets are passing memories that she wants to desperately hold on to. No taste will be quiet like the pancakes she had eaten, and no smell will ever replace that of the sweater she stole (despite overheating every time she wore it).

Scars are a painful reminder of what she went through, and it takes a little to see them as a badge of honor, but the help she received only made it re-open in the long run. 

Tire swings will never be the same, and that stupid song is still on the radio- as if it wasn’t playing enough in her head. Y/n used to think she was strong, but now that’s barely believable. Ice cream cones and train rides have a hidden meaning that will only ever be known by her and it hurts to know that no one can help her mourn a love that never happened.

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

The first question was asked when the summer started. It was next to a moving van that was a beacon calling out to everyone on the street it was parked on. The well-off neighborhood was full of upstanding citizens who wanted nothing more than to welcome the newest member with open arms. 

It was that beacon that called the Iida family over to the driveway. But as Tenya walked with his brother and parents, he wondered if the bright beacon that drew him in was the moving truck of the bright smile of the teen girl, happily grabbing boxes of things to bring inside. 

“Hello! We’re the Iida family, this is my husband, and these are my two son’s, Tensei and Tenya. Welcome to the neighborhood!” The wife smiled kindly at the mother.

“Thank’s for coming out! This is my husband, Y/d/n, and my daughter Y/n. We’re really looking forward to joining the neighborhood,”  to the untrained eye this looked like any normal greeting, but Y/n knew better. She could see the subtle glances her mom threw at her. She was trying to say how cute the younger boy was. It received a light chuckle and an eye-roll from her daughter.

“Tenya,” The Iida’s father said, clasping him on the shoulder, “Why don’t you go help Y/n with her boxes?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, walking over to the moving truck.

“You can just grab that one if it’s not too heavy,” she pointed at a medium side box labeled ‘Knickknacks’. He hummed in agreement and followed her up into her room, noting the aesthetic that she surrounded herself in.  

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

A knock echoed through the newly-decorated house, alerting the present family members of a visitor. 

“Not it,” Y/n’s dad said, pressing his finger to his noes; her mother follows suit.

“You guys are literal children,” Y/n groaned, forcing herself off the couch she had grown ever so attached to.  Grumpily, she made her way to the door.

“Oh hey! Iida, right?” Y/n said, recognizing the boy that had already been in her room.

“Yes! That’s me. I uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “I was heading down to the boardwalk, and I wanted to know if you would like to come with me?” 

Truth be told this wasn’t his idea. His mother had been pressuring him for days in hopes to grow closer to the new family. It wouldn’t be long until they realized the Iida’s are a line of hero’s, and she wanted to get close to them before they found out.

“Oh,” Y/n replied, suddenly thinking of the clothes she was currently wearing. While her tie-dye shorts and loose t-shirt weren't anything to be ashamed of, they were not ‘paint the town red’ clothes. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to!” Tenya said, suddenly embarrassed that he randomly invited a girl his age to hang out with him. 

“No! I’ll gladly go, just give me a few minutes to get changed. Come inside,” Y/n had said, opening the door wider for him before racing upstairs. 

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

       Iida walked slightly behind the girl he was supposed to show around. It was a cliché, but she was mesmerizing. Her hair bounced with every step, and she walked like she had a purpose, and the end goal was in mind and she would stop at nothing to get there. 

She looked like she was made of honey and sugar and a taste would give him a cavity. The beams of the sun projected from her eyes like the cosmos and it made him want to fall in- knowing full well that drifting through the endless space would never cease to amaze him.

“Do you think they sell corn-dogs here?” 

“Huh? oh!” He blushed, before pointing ahead, “Yeah, there’s one right by the docks.”

“Well then what are we waiting for?” She smiled and leaned closer to Iida. “Let's hurry!” There was a burst of light laughter in her voice, as she grabbed his hand and ran off. What was he doing here?

--

When they reached the end of the docks- corn dogs in hand- they say on the bench which over-looked the sea. Night had fallen while they were out, Y/n becoming absorbed in learning as much as she can about where she moved to.

As she looked out to the wine-light sky, she wondered if she could swim to it. The horizon looked so close, like just reaching out a little further would put it in her grasp. It wasn’t until Tenya’s hand grabbed her shoulder that she realized she really was leaning forward.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, eyebrows pulled together.

“Yeah!” She smiled, snapped out of her thoughts,. “Just day-dreaming,”

“We should get you back home,” He said, before looking back to the water. 

She saw his glasses, they reflected the golden hue of the sunset, and the beautiful purple that fought underneath it. She saw all the beauty in the world in his eyes, all that was good and right- was all in front of her. He was the sunset, he was the horizon she so desperately wanted to get to.  

“Hey, Iida?” Y/n asked, swinging her legs back and forth under the bench. 

“What is it?” He said, looking over to her face- which didn’t turn to see him.

“Stupid question- but an icebreaker; if you could have anyone in the world- living or dead- over to yours for dinner, who would it be?” she blushed a little, but kept a calm face.

He knew the answer as soon as she finished the sentence, but there was no need to tell someone he just met the name of the girl he had been in love with for years- so all he said was, “Probably Catherin The Great, she had a few political opinions I’d like to hear about first hand,”

“Hmm, I can see you two bonding over tea,” She smirked, standing up from her seat, “Let’s get home.”

Tenya nodded, walking beside Y/n- thinking about her.

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

        A month had passed, and the little interactions the two families had resulted in the Iida’s inviting them over for breakfast. Y/n had woken up early to get dressed. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, harshly shaking it so the baby hairs would fall out. She threw on a form-fitting sweater and yoga-pants. Despite wanting to look like it’s a casual mornings- she did apply some casual makeup to make herself look a little more awake. 

It was stupid- she knows- but Y/n really just wanted to look a tiny bit better when he sees her again. Looking in the mirror, she wonders if he’s putting a little extra effort in his appearance as well. She could only hope.

Walking down the stairs, she saw her mother- also wearing casual makeup- and her father in a black polo and slacks. They were both standing by the door, waiting for their daughter to come out from her cave. 

“Why are you guys already done?” She asked, turning on the phone and checking the time.

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Her dad smiled, putting his own phone away. 

“Alright,” Her mom smiled, putting on her wedges, “Let’s get going. Y/n can you grab the scones and smoothie?”

“Yeah mah, I’ll be right back,”

“Thanks love,” she smiled, grabbing the house keys off the hook. 

They were kinda heavy, but it was nothing she couldn’t carry. That didn’t stop her dad from taking it from her with a smile. She could have done it, but she’s not necessarily upset about it.

---

Sitting at the dining room table was only awkward in the beginning of the meal. The Iida’s seemed to be pretty profesional people, but the Y/l/n’s were introverts with an acquired sense of humor. Joking about everything from people at work, eachother, and random facts they had learned, the Iida’s quickly became much less tense during the meal. 

The mother and father- whom’s names Y/n never seemed to learn, were last few to smile or laugh along side the rest, beaten by Tenya by only a second, but Tensai had been the first to crack a joke, almost beating Y/n herself to break the ice. 

The loud laughter slowly split into multiple side conversations; Y/n- who sat across from Tenya- tried to strike up a conversation. “Do you want to be famous one day?” 

“Hmm?” He asked, looking up from the lone strawberry cut on his plate, “Yes, I plan on being a Hero.”

A few seconds longer than a moment had passed, end Tensai asked Y/n in return, “What about you? You wanna live the life of fame, or are you more of a low-key kinda gal,” he smiled at her, and for a second Y/n though he had noticed the embarrassment worn on her face after being rejected and forced into silence.

“I dunno really, my quirk is pretty multipurpose. I originally wanted to be a counselor or therapist, but it’s changed from a vet to doctor, to a hundreds of other things. My parents think I should be a hero- I wouldn’t mind I don’t think, but the constant attention could get pretty annoying. A like being busy with people and events, but I do value my privacy,” 

He smiled at her, nodding in acceptance at her answer. The Iida parents had been listening into her words while she spoke, but they still conversed with Y/n’s parents as well. 

Y/n saw a smile on Iida’s face. That mirrored on her own, and suddenly her pancakes tasted a whole lot better. She missed the far off look in his eyes, if only she saw the worried look that was on Tensai’s face. If she had, maybe that small warning could have protected her heart.

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

         Y/n had found an abandoned tire swing in their large backyard, three acres of cleared land and two of forest. The swing was in a small clearing- it looked like a party or two had been thrown while it was vacant- shown by the few nips thrown about the ground. She swung back and forth- listening to music playing in her head. 

Because of how caught up in her head she was, she never heard the footsteps approaching her. “Hey, Y/L/N!” Tenya greated. 

“Jesus Christ!” She shouted, falling from the swing. Thankfully, with the use of his quirk, Iida was able to catch her just in time.

“You should really be more careful,”

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” she rolled her eyes. 

He smiled, helping her back up to the swing. He slowly began to push her back and forth, spinning her as fast as he could listening to her laughter. Getting more and more dizzy, she closed her eyes to stay level headed. 

With a heavy sigh of contentment, Y/n lied on the grass with Iida, staring up at the beautiful blue sky. “Hey, Tenya?” She asked, still looking up.

“Yeah?” He turned on his side to see her better- only to notice her eyes were closed. 

“What’s your perfect day?”

“Hmm...” he thought for a second, trying to think of a good answer. “Probably waking up early, and seeing the girl I love as soon as I open my eyes. Then I’d like to eat breakfast with my family- followed by patrol with my brother. Then I’d like to go home and make a cup of tea and sit down with a book I like. Yeah, that sounds pretty good,” he smiled himself, closing his eyes to really picture what he was saying. 

“That sounds really nice Iida,” she whispered, wondering if she could be the one he loves.

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

           Summer only had a month left, but Y/n wanted to make the most of the fleeting free-time she had left. Wanting to explore more of Japan before her freedom was stripped from her, she invited Iida to go on a roadtrip with her. 

It wasn’t hard at all to convince her parents to let her go, with her quirk she really didn’t need to worry about being attacked. Even then, she’s physically strong if she can’t use her quirk to defend herself. With the rise of heroes to protect everyone, Japan quickly became one of the safest places. Y/n was also very closely trained with America’s top hero, Reflector. She taught Y/n everything she knew and fully plans on giving Y/n her hero agency as her predecessor. 

Iida’s parents were a little harder to convince, but Y/n’s parents were very persuasive. They would be gone for a week, and they would check in every morning when they woke up and every night before they went to sleep. If they didn’t call during one of the time’s then they had until the next call to respond.

They had made a list of regions and cities in them to visit in them, with the days they would be arriving and leaving. If they skipped a stop of stayed longer, then they had to text their parents with the nex information. Solid rules, and both the teens agreed to them, as well as their parents. 

The bus ride to the train station was relatively short, but it was in complete silence. It was a little awkward, but they just had to get through that one part. 

The train ride itself was much more enjoyable. With their suitcases in hand, they sat close yet comfortably. “Hey, Tenya?” 

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up from his phone to see her eyes staring back at him- a smile tugging at his lips. 

“For what in your life do you feel most grateful?” She questioned, smiling into his eyes.

“Probably my family,” He responded as soon as she finished- having grown accustomed to Y/n’s random questioning, “They’ve done so much for me, and I only hope I can pay them back for all that they’ve supported me through.”

Y/n nodded at his answer, acknowledging how very much like him it is. The loud bustle of train and constant shaking led them to listening to music together, sharing earbuds and squeezing close together. It was a cheesy, new, pop song- one that will probably inspire a sub-culture of girls to bind together. It was weirdly comforting.

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

        The last night they spent through their travel of Japan was by far the most enjoyable. There was a small frost in the air that traveled with the two, following them in their own little bubble. 

The streets were lightly illuminated, and it seemed like they were the only two in the world. Y/n had grabbed him by the hand, dragging him to an ice cream vendor. Seeing her in front of him, Tenya was thrown back to the first time they spent time together- everything's so different now. Yet, her beautiful eyes stay constant. Her kindness in unwavering. She’s still a girl made of honey and sugar.

After traveling together for so long, the two stopped correcting people who referred to them as a couple- they simply accepted it as an inside joke. This was why they laughed when the man behind the counter said “And these two for the cute couple,” with a wink at the end of his sentence. 

Walking linked by the elbows, the two passed through the park. Shivering from the wind and the chill of her ice cream, Iida stopped the pair. He took off his sweater, revealing the long-sleeve shirt he wore underneath, and he handed it to her. 

“Ten! You’ll freeze to death,” she said, refusing the offering.

“C’mon Y/n/n, I can heat myself up through my engines, and I wasn’t asking. You’re gonna wear the sweater or you’ll get sick. Put it on,” he said, taking the ice-cream from her hand and raising her arms like she was a child. 

Y/n was very pleased the cold hid the blush on her face- last thing she needed was for him to discover her feelings on the last day of this amazing trip. She slipped into his large sweater, and grabbed her ice cream back from him.

“Hey Iida, I’ve got another question,” she said, walking with him through the trees bordering the street. 

“I’m ready,” he asked, looking forward to make sur they didn’t walk into anything in the dark. 

“What’s a personal problem you could use some advise for?” She asked, actually curious as to what he could possibly need help with. 

He sighed, not making eye-contact. “I guess since we’re close enough- even on nickname basis- I should be comfortable telling you this. I’m in love with this girl, I’ve never stopped thinking about her since the moment I met her,” a dopey smile came onto his face, “I have no idea how to tell her. And now we’re going into highschool, and she’s going to meet so many other people- people I’m sure are more fun than me. I want to confess to her before the summer ends, but I have no idea how to. So,” he sucked in a deep breath and looked at Y/n, “What do you think?”

Y/n smiled, she was so sure he was being cheesy and talking about her. She fully believes that he’s gonna confess tonight. It has to happen- that’s the only way what he just said makes sense. 

“I think,” she closed her eyes, “You should look her in the eyes, and compliment them. Whether she accepts your compliment or refuses it, tell her you want her to know how perfect she is- and then tell her how you feel. Tell her how just seeing her makes your day, how you want her to be the first thing you see in the morning, and the last voice you hear at night. Tell her you want to spoil her, want to tell her everyday how perfect she is. Confess to her that she’s amazing, and that you love her. Let her know how you feel, and then respect her reply. But, there’s no way she’ll turn you down. Be confident, you’re amazing and I’m sure she feels the same,”

Tenya thanked her for her advise, and they fell back into a comfy silence. It was then she remembered the night they decided to go by first names, the night she realized how hard she fell for him.

----

Y/n was sitting on her rooftop, Iida beside her. They were looking up at the stars- sitting in silence. Like always, she started the conversation- “Hey, Iida, If you died this evening without being able to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? And Why haven’t you told them yet?”

“Huh,” he murmured, thinking hard. “I’d regret not thanking my brother more. He risks his life to save people, and he practically raised me. He’s why I want to be a hero, to live up to his expectations. I guess I haven’t told him yet because I want to prove that I’ve done something with myself. I want him to know he doesn’t have to raise me anymore- that I succeed,”

Y/n thought for a moment, before answering a question for the first and only time they have known eachother- but he didn’t ask it. She just felt a need to finally speak.

“I had an ex-boyfriend,” she sighed, clenching her eyes shut; “We’d been dating for five years- since we were children. We were so close as kids, but when our quirks manifested he broke up with me. He said my quirk was too dangerous for him, that he didn’t want to be part of the backstory of a villians history. It fucking ruined me. I was an idiot for actually thinking we could have lasted. About a month after we broke up, a villian attacked the agency I was working at. The only reason I was there was because I know the hero in charge, and he knew that. He had come to the building during my break- I don’t know why he was there, but I was the only person he knew there. The villain attacked, but his quirk wasn’t very strong. All he could do was change the color of an item for a few seconds. He was killed that day- slaughtered by the villain who’s only reason was boredom. I wish I could talk to him one last time, tell him I loved him one last time.”

Iida scooted closer to her, pulling her head onto his chest, letting her use him as a crutch. “It’s okay, Y/n. It’ll be okay,”

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

When highschool started, and Tenya hadn’t confessed his love to him, Y/n came to the painful realization that she wasn’t the one he loved. However, it was the first day of school that hit the nail on the head. 

She had entered the classroom of 1-A, after her family convinced her to at least try out the hero course, and was terrified that she would know no one. And then, she heard a voice that reminded her of someone very similar.

At the far end of the room, she saw the back of a blue-haired boy scolding a blond with his feet on the desk. A smile spread across her mouth when she realized who this up-tight teen was. Practically running to cover the distance of the class, Y/n launched herself onto Iida, latching onto her. 

“Ten!” She smiled, shifting to wear he could comfortably hold her up.

“Y-Y/n?” He asked, momentarily stunned by her sudden appearance. He smiled and spun her around for a second before putting her down. “You’re here? You’re parents convinced you to pursue being a hero?” he was reasonably confused, but he wasn’t upset she was there- if anything he was glad to have a second familiar face around.

“Yeah, I’m just trying it out,” Y/n laughed, scratching the back of her neck. 

“So heartwarming, now get outta my line of sight four-eyes,” the blond snapped, glaring at the pair.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Y/n said, rolling her eyes at his comments. 

Meanwhile, Iida laughed at Y/n being called his girlfriend. Y/n, who used to laugh with him, could only do her best to not cry. 

“C/mon Ten, let’s go to your seat,” Y/n said, tugging his hand towards the spot with his name on it- stopping when her arm was tugged, caused by him not moving with her. 

“Sorry Y/n/n,” he said, releasing her hand. “I would, but I promised Momo I’d meet her by the gate and guide her to the classroom. You know about Momo, right?” He looked into her eyes hoping she would put it together herself. After realizing she wouldn’t, he reminded her, “We talked about her on our last day of the tour.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling suddenly really cold. 

“Yeah,” He smiled, “Wish me luck!” He gave her a thumbs up and walked out the room- leaving her stunned and so very cold. 

A scoff echoed from behind her, causing her to look back and see the blond once again. 

“That guy’s an idiot- glasses or not. It’s so obvious how you feel about him, and you’re way to attractive to pine after someone like him. You’re smart too, since you got into this school- he’s really missing out,” he rolled his eyes, but he also knew what just happened- even though no one else in the room picked up on it. 

He assumed they were dating, but when Iida laughed, Bakugo had no clue if he was laughing at them dating or the girl’s reaction. He quickly figured out which of the two was the truth, and he also realized that he had no clue that she was in love with him. 

Y/n didn’t react to his words, just stuck in the weird state she was in. She wasn’t sad, or angry. There was no tears or screams or breakdown, just a silent wave of shock. An ocean of doubt consumed her, filling her with a sense of... nothing. 

She should have known. She should have realized. It’s entirely her fault. Who could love her. Who would want to love her. Who wants to date a freak. Who wants to date someone with a villainous quirk like hers. That’s why he was shocked when she showed up- he thought they’d reject a future villain like her.

No wonder everyone hates her; if she was someone else she’d hate herself too.

[lupinlongbottom]

Jacaranda

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) (L/N) was pissed. Not just at the world, but at her close friend, Draco Malfoy. Why on earth did she still trust him? Hang out with him? Even after everything nasty and vile he’s done to her other friends? (Y/N) wasn’t so sure.

Prompt: Would you do a Draco Malfoy imagine of him and the Slytherin!reader being friends despite her good friendship with the Golden Trio and Draco finds the reader near tears (all the years he’s known her, he’s never seen her cry and doesn’t like to cry in public) after detention with Umbridge and when she sees Draco she cries because she associates him with safety and their feelings come out? - Anon

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: A few swears, nothing major my dudes

A/N: This is my first time writing for Draco! Wowie! Hope he’s not too OOC? I’m just so used to writing for the Weasley’s that it was hard to switch it up. Either way, I’m pleased. 

Part 2

__

(Y/N) (L/N) was just like every other Hogwarts student. She was occasionally late to class, enjoyed watching Quidditch with her friends, basked in the spring sunlight in the courtyard and rarely found her life to be exhaustingly hectic. Behind her cool demeanor and Slytherin robes, which many found frightening, she was kind, listened intently to others and found the brightest spark in every soul. Her house didn’t define her, which many found hard to believe, resulting in very few and honest friends. The ones that managed to look past it, were worth the fight.

“I don’t understand why you had to go and join that ridiculous squad, Draco,” (Y/N) said, biting into her bland toast. Needed more jam. “That badge is ghastly to look at.”

“Fits with the rest of the ensemble, does it not, (L/N)?” Draco said, flashing the silver ‘I’ in (Y/N)’s direction. “You’re just jealous that Umbridge didn’t choose you. Don’t worry, I can put in a good word for you, considering you’re one of my closest friends.”

“I didn’t apply,” (Y/N) said cooly, spooning more of the berry jam onto her toast. “If I was truly one of your closest friends, you’d know how I feel about that witch of a woman anyway,” she took another bite. Much better.

“That ‘witch of a woman’ is our Headmistress,” Draco scoffed, gulping from his goblet quickly. “She’s doing right by this school, something that should’ve happened a long time ago, I reckon. It pains me to see how you’re blinded by those bumbling Gryffindor grunts, that Potter is filling your head with nonsense.”

“You’re on a power trip, Dray,” (Y/N) sang, finishing her breakfast in two more bites. “If you will excuse me, I have a class to attend,” she turned around, facing Draco once more. “And no, Potter isn’t filling my head with nonsense, I’m just bright enough to look past the muck the Ministry is shoving down our throats.”

“Are you saying I’m thick?” Draco retorted, gaining the attention of the Slytherin girl, who had begun walking away.

“Of course not,” (Y/N) said, smirking. “I’ve known you since we were in nappies, Malfoy. You’re not thick in the slightest, you’re actually quite the intellectual,” she spun around again, this time marching towards the exit. “I just wish you’d be bright enough to turn on the light from time to time.”

“(Y/N),” Draco said, flying up from his seat, trying to match the pace of the girl across the table. “Join the squad,” he panted, having practically ran to the exit of the Great Hall to catch up. “Please,” he reached for her hand.

“Draco,” (Y/N) said, pulling her hand away from his, as if it were a red hot iron. “If I recall, you’re little gang of goons were the ones that threw all of my friends into a massive detention—”

“They were in an illegal organization, (Y/N)! They planned to take down the Ministry—”

“Yeah? Why didn’t I get a detention, then? I was just as much apart of their organization,” (Y/N) huffed, crossing her arms, her posture stiff. “Or did you meddle in that, too?”

“Of course I ‘meddled’,” Draco scoffed. “Do you really think I was going to let one of my oldest friends get caught in the crossfire? Umbridge gave you a second chance to prove yourself, which, by the way, is entirely thanks to yours truly.”

“Bite me,” (Y/N) seethed. “If it weren’t for the fact I was a pure-blooded Slytherin—”

“Traits you should be honored to have, mind you—”

“For Godric’s sake, Draco, can’t I just be mad at you for once in my life!?” (Y/N) said, her tone rising. A few straggling students’ eyes wandered to the two at the foot of the hall. “All my life has been following you, Draco. Listening to you, Draco. Whenever we played as children, we did what you wanted to do. I listened, I played along. I care for you, Draco, I do,” (Y/N) said, her eyes growing softer. “But you have to understand that I’m not the same girl you grew up with. I have different interests, different friends—”  

“You’re still my friend, (Y/N),” Draco said, cutting (Y/N) off. “Yeah, I put up with your timely bullshit, only because I know when the cards all fall, your real allegiances stand with your kind. Our kind. You’ll come crawling back to me eventually.”

“We’ll see about that,” (Y/N) clicked, turning her heels sharply and exiting the hall, leaving the blonde boy at a loss for words. “Stupid Malfoy, stupid hair…” she mumbled, adjusting her grey jumper, the white shirt underneath was poking through the ends. (Y/N) hardly noticed the pink flurry of a woman she had just run into.

“Ms. (L/N),” Umbridge smiled sweetly, almost sickeningly.

“Headmistress,” (Y/N) said, bowing lightly. “I’m so sorry for bumping into you, I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going—”

“Playing with your jumper, I presume?” Umbridge said, the smile not leaving her face.

“Sorry, Headmistress,” (Y/N) said, voice panicked. “My undershirt became untucked from my skirt during breakfast and I—”

“No need for explanation,” Umbridge held up her hand, halting the Slytherin’s words. “You’re in violation of Educational Degree Number Forty-Five, you’re out of proper uniform—”

“I was just fixing myself—”

“Contradicting your Headmistress?” Umbridge squeaked, eyeing (Y/N) down. “Normally the violation of Number Forty-Five results in a handful of house points taken away, but talking back? Consider your activities for this evening postponed. Detention, my office.” (Y/N) stood stunned as the Headmistress walked towards the Great Hall, presumably to get her breakfast.

__

“…that sounds completely unfair,” Hermione whispered above her book, eyes darting at (Y/N). The library was near silent, all students were busy preparing for their exams and classes, much like a normal afternoon.

“You’re telling me,” (Y/N) huffed, flipping the page of her textbook to lessen the suspicion of Madam Pince. “I’ve never had detention with Umbridge before.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Hermione hissed, a slight distain at that fact. “If you only knew the torture Harry’s been through—” Madame Pince eyes the girls down for a moment, watching as they quietly read the books in front of them. She grew disinterested and began shelving books once more. “Hasn’t he shown you?”

“Harry hasn’t exactly been my best mate since he thought I was the one who snitched on the D.A,” (Y/N) quipped, rightfully so. “He never really trusted me in Dumbledore’s Army anyway, always thought I was going to run and tell Malfoy everything about it.”

“Can you really blame him, (Y/N)?” Hermione asked, her expression exasperated. “You’re close friends with Malfoy, the person that hasn’t exactly been the kindest to Harry, or any of us for that matter.”

“You trusted me,” (Y/N) said, pointing her eyes sharply at Hermione. “Bloody hell, Ron trusted me. I feel like these last five years of friendship mean nothing to you lot—”

“We care about you, (Y/N),” Hermione hissed again. “But you need to understand that you’re fraternizing with the enemy. One of these days you’re going to need to step out of both ponds and pick a side.”

“Must there even need to be sides?” (Y/N) said, flipping her page angrily. “Draco has been my closest friend since I was young, he knows me better than I know me at times. I understand that he can be brash and rude, you know I surely don’t agree with the foul things he’s called you in the past, right?”

“Of course I do, I’m not daft, (Y/N),” Hermione sighed. “In years past, it’s been easy to ignore your friendship with Draco, he was just some dumb bully who called people names. Now it’s starting to get real, (Y/N), real scary at the way he’s acting.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I hate seeing him this way,” (Y/N) mumbled, thumbing the corner of her textbook, watching the pages flicker rapidly together in a pulsing wave. “He needs me, Hermione. He needs a real friend, to stop him from going down the path he is. I see the darkness welling inside, the need for power. I want to help him, Hermione, I do.”

“Are you willing to lose your real friends for it? For Malfoy?”

(Y/N) thought back to the boy she grew up with, the one that would laugh at her stupid jokes, egg her on to do stupid things. They would spend the summers under the flowering tree on the (L/N) estate, blue trumpet-shaped flowers falling onto their heads from time to time. She always adored how the color complimented his hair, made him appear softer than he was. It made Draco look nice, caring, unlike himself.

Without hesitation, (Y/N) answered.

“Yes, if that’s what it takes.”

__

The walk from the Slytherin common room to Umbridge’s office was a somber one, a death march almost. (Y/N) knew the only reason she had truly gotten a detention was for the matter of fairness, an oversight on Umbridge’s part. Perhaps she regretted not giving (Y/N) a slew of detentions like the rest of Dumbledore’s Army, or maybe she wanted to throw her down a peg, show her who was truly in charge. Regardless, the punishment was impending and forthcoming.

“Ms. (L/N), I’m so happy you could join me,” Umbridge sang, meeting (Y/N) at the foot of the stairs. “Please, if you will,” her hand beckoned to the top of the stairs, leading (Y/N) into the disgustingly pink vomit the Headmistress called an office. “You’ll be doing some lines for me, you can find all the materials you need on the desk I’ve set up for you.”

Upon the creaking desk, (Y/N) noted as she sat down, were a roll of parchment and a single quill. “No ink?”

“You won’t need any ink,” Umbridge smiled, nodding to the quill. “I’m sure you’ve heard of my quills from Mr. Potter, is that correct?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Harry and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms,” (Y/N) said, lifting the quill upward. “How am I to write?”

“Trust the quill, write as you normally would,” Umbridge said, tapping her spoon against the pale pink teacup on her desk. “I want you to write ‘I will obey authority’,” the woman motioned to the paper. “Try it out.”

(Y/N) tapped the quill to the parchment, almost as a test. No ink bled through. (Y/N) thought for a moment that perhaps the quill was much like those ‘fountain pens’ she had seen some muggle-born students use, the ink trapped inside the body of the pen. It didn’t seem to be the case. Hesitant, she began to sprawl the words onto the paper, red ink appearing in place of her scratching. A burning sensation itched the back of her other hand, almost like a cat scratch. (Y/N) thought nothing of it.

“How many times?”

“Fill the entire page, my dear, front to back,” Umbridge sang sweetly, taking another sip of her tea. “The quill will know if you’ve began to write larger to fill the extra gaps and erase the entirety of your work,” she smiled.

(Y/N) began to write again, the same size as the line before. Again, the burning sensation seared onto the back of her other hand, causing (Y/N) to finally look down. Almost an exact copy of her words were scratched into the flesh of her hand, flared as pink as the walls. Another glance at the ‘ink’ that had been flowing out of the quill and (Y/N) connected the dots instantly.

“This is barbaric,” (Y/N) mumbled, continuing to sprawl the lines. The witch sitting at the desk across from (Y/N) must’ve heard her, for she let out a small laugh. The student continued to write the lines, over and over, filling the space with what she could. She set the quill down for just a moment, to relieve the pain in her hand.

“No, no,” Umbridge clicked. “Continue.” Hesitantly, (Y/N) began again, the words cutting into her like a hot iron, branding the back of her hand with every pass of the quill.

__

Two hours had passed and (Y/N) began writing the last of her lines, successfully filling the page, front to back, like requested. (Y/N) pressed the last period onto the page with such vigor, the tip pierced the paper. She stood up, careful to hide her shaking and passed the parchment to Umbridge, who was currently on her seventh cup of tea.

“Good,” Umbridge said, scanning the paper. “I take it the message has sunk in?” She pointed her doe-like eyes up towards the student. (Y/N) nodded. “Shame you had to re-start a few times, but that’s the price you pay when things aren’t orderly, hm?”

“Of course, Headmistress.”

“Outstanding. Enjoy your evening, Ms. (L/N),” Umbridge waved towards the door, ushering (Y/N) to leave. “Oh, and do remember your place, dear. Many would kill to be in a position like yours,” the Headmistress giggled, the tone echoing through (Y/N)’s head like rock to a window.

“Good night,” (Y/N) bowed as she exited the room. For whatever reason, (Y/N) felt hot, like the heat from her hand radiated throughout her entire body. Was it a side effect to the barbaric quill? (Y/N) couldn’t be too sure, this feeling was one she hadn’t felt in a long time. Something was building, something dark, something that needed release. Walking back to her dorm, (Y/N) caught a look at the moon from the hall, finally feeling herself crack. Settling down on the windowsill, (Y/N) allowed her mind to wander, trying to focus her thoughts on something, anything, else rather than the pain coming from her hand. 

It was then that Draco saw her, sitting alone, staring at the moon. He had been patrolling for Umbridge that evening, hoping to break up any unsightly students participating in illegal activities. He hadn’t imagined running into (Y/N) this late into the night, surely her detention couldn’t have gone that long, right?

“(Y/N)…?” Draco asked quietly, approaching (Y/N) carefully. Had he ever done that before?

(Y/N) whipped her head around, finding none other than Draco Malfoy staring at her, a worried expression painted his features. “Draco,” (Y/N) sniffled, pressing the heel of her palm to her nose. “What’re you doing here? Trying to gain brownie points with the wicked witch?”

“Always,” Draco quipped, feeling a pang in his chest. Something didn’t feel right. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s past curfew.”

“What’re you going to do? Take away some house points? Snape would have your head,” (Y/N) said, voice like acid. “Go on, bet you don’t have the guts.”

“I’m not going to take any house points, I’m not an idiot,” Draco rolled his eyes, walking closer to the girl. “Are you alright?” Draco asked, his voice growing softer.

“Like you care,” (Y/N) quipped, watching her friend stand squarely in front of her, weight shifting to one hip. His eyes seemed gentle, somehow softened in the moonlight. “But no, obviously I’m not okay, Draco,” she flung her arms out, circling them lightly. “I wouldn’t be on the verge of tears if I was alright.”

“I’ve never seen you cry—”

“And you never will,” (Y/N) said, hopping down from the ledge, pushing Draco away. “I don’t cry and I certainly won’t let you have the pleasure of seeing it.”

Draco grabbed ahold of her jumper sleeve, stopping her from taking another step. “Will you stop being so thick and just talk to me?” Her shoulder loosened, arm falling. “Please?”

“I had detention,” (Y/N) said, not turning around. “I’m sure you’ve heard from your lackeys. That’s why I’m out so late.”

“What did she do to you?”

“Nothing,” (Y/N) shrugged, finally pulling her arm away, turning towards Draco. “She didn’t do anything to me. I deserved it.”

“Deserved what?” He asked, glancing down at (Y/N)’s hands, she was holding one tightly, as if she didn’t want Draco to see. “(Y/N), what did she have you do?”

It was in that moment that (Y/N) snapped. Something inside of her broke open like a thousand glass jars. Suddenly, (Y/N) felt hot tears stream down her face as she removed her hand from atop the other, the scratched flesh shining in the moonlight. Draco grabbed it quickly, running his thumb over the raised wound.

“‘I will obey authority’?” Draco asked, looking closer at the scratches. It looked to be in (Y/N)’s handwriting, he’d recognize it anywhere. The wound looked to be healing, hardly would leave much of a scar, thankfully. “She made you do this?

(Y/N) nodded quickly, rubbing the edges of her sleeve around the bottoms of her eyes, trying to soak the tears up quickly. “I’m pathetic,” (Y/N) croaked, laughing lightly. “Crying, in the middle of the corridor. Godric, I never cry in public—”

“You’re not pathetic,” Draco shook his head, releasing her hand. “I’ve never seen you cry before, even when you broke your arm that one summer,” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Fell right out of the jacaranda tree, right on top of me.”

(Y/N) sniffled, fighting a giggle. “You told me I couldn’t climb to the top,” another sniffle. “I wanted to prove you wrong.”

“You did,” Draco nodded, sitting down on the windowsill, patting the empty space next to him. (Y/N) followed close behind. “Climbed to the top like a monkey. Never should’ve doubted you.”

“No,” (Y/N) smiled. “You should never doubt me,” she rolled her sleeve up, pointing at a scar on her elbow, roughly the length of a sickle. “Still have the proof of the cut from your stupid ring—”

“Hey, you know I never meant to cut you,” Draco said, his voice raising. “I stopped wearing that ring after you fell onto it—”

“Fell onto it? You scratched me!”

“I was trying to help,” Draco laughed, amused at (Y/N)’s serious face. “Your arm looked horrific, I tried to help you up.”

“You did stay with me until my mum noticed our screaming,” (Y/N) smiled, recalling the frantic horror on her mother’s face. “You were rather sweet.”

“I’m always sweet—”

“Bullshit,” (Y/N) laughed, finally feeling her sinuses clear, a breath of fresh air filling her lungs. “You? Draco Lucius Malfoy, are not always sweet,” she laughed again.

“I have my moments,” Draco hummed. “When necessary, of course.”

“Right, can’t let anyone see the hardened Malfoy actually care about someone else, can we?” (Y/N) said, pushing Draco slightly to the side. “Sorry, for crying, I mean. I don’t normally cry in front of other people. I don’t know what came over me, I bet I look like a real idiot—”

“No,” Draco said, much too quickly. “You don’t. A bit puffy, but not an idiot.”

“Coming from you, that means a lot,” (Y/N) laughed, tentatively resting her head on Draco’s shoulder. She felt him stiffen for a moment, but ultimately relaxing into the touch. “I don’t know what it is, but even though you infuriate the hell out of me,” her eyes flicked up towards the Slytherin. “It’s… calming to be around you, safe. Like the summers under the jacaranda tree.”

“Is it?” Draco hummed, snaking his arm around the girl, holding her close. (Y/N) nodded wordlessly on his shoulder, wriggling herself closer.  “I think I understand.”

“We didn’t have to worry about stupid cliques, stupid blood-purity, what others thought of us,” (Y/N) said, her fingers playing with the ends of her jumper, the tips occasionally touching her healing wound. “We were young, only had to worry about one another. I wish it could be the same as before.”

“It can be,” Draco said, truthfully. 

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head. “I don’t think it can quite be the same as before, considering…”

“Considering, what?”

(Y/N) looked up at Draco, her eyes meeting his own. “Considering I’m helplessly in love with you, Draco Malfoy.”

“W-what?” 

“Oh please,” (Y/N) scoffed, pulling away from Draco. “I’ve known it for a while, I reckon. I only really looked at how I felt today,” (Y/N) laughed. “You’ll hate it, but talking with Hermione helped me realize it. Seeing your face, after everything I had to endure tonight… it just sort of clicked, you know?”

“You’re right,” Draco scoffed. “I do hate that you’re bringing that filthy mud—” (Y/N) shot him a look, an icy cool glare. “I do hate that you’re bringing up that nasty Gryffindor,” Draco corrected, noting (Y/N)’s slight relaxation in her posture.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) smiled, quite pleased at his change of vocabulary. She really despised that slang, the filth of the word never sat right with (Y/N). “Everything just feels right when I’m with you. Like I’m always going to be safe, be okay, even when I know it won’t.”

“It’s about time you realized it,” Draco smiled, puffing his chest. “I’ve only been trying to get you to see that for five years now.”

“Wow, I confess my love for you and all you go and do is boast about yourself?” (Y/N) laughed. “Honestly, I should’ve seen this coming.”

“You really should’ve,” Draco said, hugging (Y/N) tighter into his side. “I’m just a bit upset, that’s all.”

“How so?”

“I was going to ask you out, proper,” Draco said, rubbing (Y/N)’s arm. “Be the first one to say it. But of course you went and ruined my great plan—”

“Did it involve loads of flowers?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well, you still haven’t said it,” (Y/N) said, hopping off the window. “You have time to make it up to me.”

“(Y/N), that’s crazy, can’t I just say that I love—”

“Nope!” (Y/N) stuck fingers in her ears, humming loudly. “Can’t hear you, doesn’t count!”

Draco laughed, truly laughed, a feeling he only ever felt with (Y/N). Her words had rang true in his heart, surely. He had known about his fondness for his friend for a while, practically since first year. While he loathed her choice in friends, part of him envied the openness of her heart and mind. He would never say that out loud, of course.

“Fine,” Draco said, hopping off the window, standing in front of (Y/N). His hands moved to grab her wrists, gently pulling them away from her head, lacing his fingers with hers. “I won’t say it, then,” quickly, before (Y/N) could react, Draco’s lips were on hers, but only for a fraction of a second. A feather-light touch.

“W-what?” (Y/N) mumbled, stunned. The pink in her cheeks seeping up to her ears.

“What? Want me to kiss you proper?” Draco smirked, ignoring the dusting on his own cheeks, surely. “Guess you’ll have to wait.”

Draco Malfoy was indeed going to be the death of (Y/N) (L/N), but damn, was it going to be worth the fight. 

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