#bullshit being spiraling nonstop

[captmickey]

Gonna dump thoughts here as mentioned earlier.

So, like, brain is nonstop thinking of Trevor post-Arcadia (as do we all, really) and like... how horribly psychologically skewed his perspective is.

And then I thought of all the ways it sort of... flares? Starting with, say, meeting Angela's other friends which she does have as shown in the pictures.

Thinking how he has "episodes" of doubts (such as thinking he heard the Jingle, thinking living outside of Arcadia isnt real since its too good to be true, being too exposed when out shopping, sometimes even mourning a loss of what he used to know) that has him practically spiraling.

Sometimes he gets snippy. But it always has him apologize to Angela before, during and after said episode. He's not mad at her, he's not holding her to anything... but it's still a lot.

That being said, one of the spiral episodes is when Angela keeps getting texts and calls from friends and Trevor starting to think about how he doesn't... have any sans Angela.

The last person he thought was his friend (that died no less) turned out to be an NPC that was actually super duper alive and lying to him.

Angela (after talking) decides on taking him to meet her friends, it'll do him good, really. And he's okay with it at first. He's meeting real people... he thinks.

He thinks they're all staring, just like a viewer would. Spiraling begins and oh. Oh he is not okay. They're going to judge him, maybe vote what will happen to him or whatever other bullshit scheme Vivian has for him.

Until the doubts creep up that maybe this isn't real, that maybe one or three of them are NPCs. The thoughts spiraling into hey look, again, he's the center of attention and he doesn't like it and it's just too much noise of talking and doubts and bad.

Which is not the case, they're worried for him. Angela more or less gave only the context that he is has severe social anxiety... they don't need to know that he has nearly three decades of trauma to unpack.

Absolute heart wrenching bonus if one of her friends, with zero malicious intent, accidentally made it worse by trying to help calm him and jokingly said they don't give two shits about his past, that he's safe.

And That’s Enough to have Trevor back away and panic and Angela needing to rush over and help and the friends frantically trying to apologize.

And yeah. I have thoughts lmao.

[galaxae]

being medicated, in therapy and in a healthier situation is absolutely wild. what the fuck do you mean i can read something concerning, worry about it for like an hour, and then Forget about it until it's brought up to me again because "well nothing i can do about it rn." i thought i was supposed to spiral and stress over it nonstop for at least 2 months and cry and have nightmares and have trouble eating. not this calm, eating a protein bar and browsing tumblr at work bullshit. what is this. who am i

[jigenstits]

I see your tragic scenario and raise it Jigen at some point has to fake his death the way Lupin does (likely due to some bullshit with the exes) and the others are Not In On It

Lupin takes it so bad Zenigata thinks he fell off the face of the earth just like where is this man

tumblr glitched out and ate my original reply to this :( anyway teehee time to emotionally destroy this man

i feel like jigen would take way too long to tell anyone he's actually alive, for both his own and the gang's safety SO;

once he's "dead", lupin is completely emotionally numb at first, then it slowly starts to sink in that, oh god he's really gone

lupin cant get out of bed for the next few days, its just a nonstop cycle of waking up, crying for like an hour and then going back to sleep fujiko and goemon both try to get him out of bed but he just. cant bring himself to do anything

he takes it the hardest out of the three because he feels somehow responsible for jigen's "death", that if he had been there or if he had done something different then he'd still be alive

(tw for this next part being dark oops)

his mental stability just spirals down the drain, and he starts to question whether he should even keep going since like. whats the point if his partner is gone

he confesses these suicidal thoughts to goemon, and he steals lupin's gun just in case (him and fujiko also keep a very close eye on lupin after this as well)

eventually, jigen finds a way to contact the gang and tell them he's fine lupin cant believe it at first and needs to see jigen in person to believe that he's really still alive

when they do meet up, jigen hugs him close and apologizes profusely for not telling him that his death was faked after so many days of breakdown after breakdown, lupin is too emotionally exhausted to bring himself to be angry with him for not telling him, and instead is just incredibly relieved that he's fine his complicated feelings about this whole situation causes him to cry uncontrollably in jigen's arms

after this whole situation happens, lupin is really not sure how he's gonna handle it when jigen actually dies, and dreads the day when he does jigen also carries immense guilt for having put lupin and the rest of the gang through all of that, and will never forgive himself for not saying something sooner

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Fire & Desire (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

Summary: After the funeral, Naomi heads to Ethan’s apartment for comfort. Let’s pretend that 30 diamond scene in chapter 12 didn’t happen, okay? I made up 95% of this.

A/N: Guys, I have an embarrassing amount of rewrites/drafts of this on my computer. Pls enjoy.

~v~

In order to survive the past few days, Naomi has made it her mission to get through things one step at a time. Her first goal was to survive the toxin. She did. Then it was to just get well and be discharged from the hospital. The last step was to make it through Danny and Bobby’s joint memorial service in one piece. Not only did she do that, but she delivered a eulogy flawlessly, while her friends and colleagues all fell apart at the seams and waited for her to do the same.

But now that it’s all over, now that there’s no goal to work towards especially since Naveen won’t let her back in the hospital without clearance from a therapist, Naomi has never felt more lost or out of sorts in her life.

After the memorial, Naomi went home with her roommates and she regrets it. Jackie and Elijah can barely look at her without giving her pity glances, Sienna has been trying to feed her nonstop, and Aurora has convinced them all that she’s spiraling due to her meltdown at Ethan earlier that day. So she hid in her bedroom, pretending to be asleep simply because she was tired of them.

But sleep evades her. Outside of a quick 15 minute power nap, Naomi hasn’t been able to sleep, thoughts of being back in that hospital room never too far from her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, the fear took over, gripping her and refusing to let go.

So that’s how she ended up here, in Ethan’s apartment, on his couch, nursing a glass of scotch. Being at home wasn’t an option and there’s no one else she’d rather be with, so as soon as her roommates went to bed, Naomi slipped out and made her way across town to Ethan’s place. Ethan was shocked when he found her outside of his apartment at midnight, especially with the way their last conversation ended. He wanted to scold her for taking an Uber so late at night by herself, but of course he didn’t turn her away. 

“Are you hungry?” Ethan asks, opening and closing his refrigerator a few times, as if that will make food magically appear. “I didn’t cook today, but I can probably throw something together.”

Naomi doesn’t know if her appetite still hasn’t returned or if it’s her mind playing tricks on her, as she can still taste the vomit in her mouth at the mere mention of food. “No, I’m fine for now.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” Ethan wants to ask questions because she’s obviously come here for a reason, but he doesn’t want to push her. “It’s late and you must be exhausted though.” He walks back to his living room and holds out a hand, which Naomi grabs. He ushers her to his bedroom. “You can sleep in here.”

His room still looks like she remembers. The king sized bed takes up most of the space, and he still has the most amazing view in all of Boston. The night is still young and bustling, the buildings all lit up.

“You’re sleeping in here too, right?” Naomi asks.

“I was going to take the guest room, or the couch.”

Naomi shakes her head. “Nonsense, you’re sleeping with me.”

Even though there’s no light other than moonlight spilling into the room, Naomi can still see his cheeks tinge pink. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“I think after our night together in the hospital, assuming will be safe. It’s cute, but we’re grown and you won’t offend my virtue.”

“Noted.” Naomi watches him as he moves around the room, a sort of anxious energy radiating off of him. He rummages through a drawer until he finds something suitable for her to put on. “Here you go.”

It’s a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a charity 5k because of course Ethan is the type to participate in something like that. Naomi rids herself of the jeans and sweater she haphazardly threw on in her rush to leave her apartment and slips on the t-shirt, forgoing the pants. Their obvious size differences make the shirt look comically large on her like a nightgown.

“Fair warning, I don’t have a scrunchie or anything to wrap my hair in, so I apologize if you wake up to like...a lion’s mane of hair in your face.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

Naomi pulls back the covers and slides into the bed, moaning upon contact. Oh, to be rich and have fancy high thread-count sheets and a memory foam mattress. “God, I never want to leave this bed.”

“Keep making noises like that, and I won’t let you.” He doesn’t climb bed behind her, opting to sit on the edge. “You want to talk?”

“About what?”

“The fact that you’re here right now, instead of your own apartment.”

“Is it not enough to say I wanted to see you?”

Ethan scoffs. Naomi is charming, but she can’t bullshit him. “Sure.”

She doesn’t want to talk about herself. That’s all she’s done for the past 48 hours, and she’s tired of it. It’s selfish.

She manages to turn the tables on Ethan. “You look tired. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Ethan assures her. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“I didn’t have you pegged as an insomniac.”

“We’re doctors, so it goes without saying that we’re all insomniacs.” Ethan sighs. “But to be honest, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep all week.”

“I get it. With the toxin, and Bobby and Danny, and Raf–”

“It’s not them, Naomi, it’s you,” Ethan argues. “I spend all 24 hours of the day with you on my brain, worrying about you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I thought you were going to die in my arms,” Ethan continues. “I tried to stay optimistic for you, but all I could think about was the fact that it could’ve been my last night with you. That night, after you finally fell asleep, I stayed up, analyzing your vitals. The only time I wasn’t looking at you is when I was looking at your chart. And every night since, I lay awake, forcing myself to not contact you.”

Naomi frowns. She’s spent so much time wrapped up in her own head, she didn’t take much time to think about how Ethan was affected as well. She’s sure she’d be a wreck if the situation was reversed, if he was the one fighting an unknown deadly agent. 

She crawls out the sheets and joins Ethan at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think–”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You’ve been going through enough, I shouldn’t even be burdening you.”

“It’s fine. We shared deathbed confessions, I think I can handle whatever else you throw my way.”

Ethan turns to lock eyes with Naomi, her expression open and earnest. “I meant everything I said in there. I regret putting us on hold, and I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”

Naomi sucks in a deep breath. “Okay. So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m done pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. I’m done trying to hold you at arm’s length. I want you, Naomi.”

“Are you feeling like this because I almost died?”

“No. I mean, sure it was a major wake-up call for me, but I’ve felt this way for a long time. The last time you were here, the night of the softball game, I kissed you, and instead of making my intentions known then and there, I put it off, and that almost cost me everything. I don’t have all the answers, because I’m your boss, and people at hospitals like to gossip, but whatever this is, I want to explore it with you.” 

Naomi doesn’t say anything, her brain and heart trying to process all of this information. Ethan watches her, his heart pounding wildly. Did he seriously miscalculate her feelings for him? Did he pick the most inopportune moment to drop this on her?

“It took you long enough,” Naomi says.

He laughs, his relief evident and he grabs her hand. “Well I appreciate you having the patience of a saint, Rookie.”

“It’s because I am a saint.”

He runs his thumb along the inside of her wrist, tracing a pattern into the warm skin. The steady thump of her pulse is enough to soothe the anxiety that lingers. She’s here. She’s with him. She’s alive.

His other hand grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look him in the eye. Ethan’s gaze sweeps across her face, his 11 years as a doctor having given him a keen eye for detail. There’s her long, dark eyelashes, her full lips, her pronounced cheekbones, her button nose that crinkles whenever she’s smiling and laughing, a sight he hopes to see again soon. He doesn’t know what emotion is more overwhelming: the relief that she’s alive, or the fear that she was that close to dying.

Ethan is all too aware of the fact that he could’ve lost her. That he and Naomi would never share a quiet moment like this ever again. That she’d never know the full extent of his feelings for her, because he’d been too much of a coward to be honest a long time ago. The thought of the hypothetical makes his insides twist uncomfortably. He can’t dwell on it, not while she’s here, looking to him for comfort.

Without thinking further, his lips slowly collide with hers, pulling the younger woman into a kiss. She wastes no time, kissing him back with an unrivaled fervor that borders on desperation, but Ethan isn’t one to complain. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth until he finds her own.

The kiss sparks something inside of Naomi, a buzz building in the pit of her stomach, so potent and all consuming, it nearly startled her. For the first time in what feels like forever, the rest of the world fades away. It’s just her and Ethan, and this magical little flame between them. So she clings to it, to him, to them, and swings one of her legs over, straddling him. One arm wraps around the back of his neck, one hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulls herself closer. He tastes smoky like the scotch they drank earlier, and she swears the kiss alone is enough to leave her intoxicated.

Desperate for any sort of friction, Naomi rolls her hips into his. She can feel him hardening beneath her, his erection straining through the thin layers of fabric preventing them from being completely bare with each other. Unable to help himself, Ethan breaks the kiss only to let out a low, “Fuck.”

He needs to stop this. Logically, Ethan knows that putting a kibosh in this is the right thing to do. Naomi came to him because she needs a support system, and the last thing he wants to do is take advantage of her trust and manipulate her grief.

“Naomi, stop,” Ethan gently commands, hands gripping her hips in order to keep her still.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” Ethan says. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“But I don’t want to go to bed.”

“But you should.”

“No. I want this, I want you.”

Her lips are on his jaw, kissing and biting, and it’s becoming harder for him to stay focused. “You’ve had a very long day, it’s been emotionally draining, and I’m sure you’re exhausted–”

“Oh my God, stop!” Naomi exclaims. “I don’t need another person explaining to me what I’m going through or what I’m feeling. Trust me, no one is more aware of my shitty life than I am.” She leans forward resting her forehead against his. “I get it, I’m the one who barely survived an assassination attempt, and I’m going to walk around with that for the rest of my life. For tonight, can I just be a normal girl who wants to fuck her boyfriend, or whatever the hell you are to me? Please?”

Despite the circumstances, his cock twitches almost painfully as soon as the word “boyfriend” leaves her mouth. He’s a grown ass man, he hasn’t used the term since high school, and here he is, ready to dissolve into a puddle of goo. What the hell has Naomi Valentine done to him and who is this mess of a man that she’s replaced him with?

Whatever she’s trying to do won’t work. Pushing aside her grief and trying to avoid the problem with sex isn’t a coping mechanism he’d ever recommend (not that he has any brilliant ones of his own, but still). It’s not going to fix anything in the long run. 

Naomi’s lips brush against his before giving him another teasing kiss before pulling away. “Please,” she whines. “I want you, Ethan.” Ethan has always considered himself to be a staunch man who isn’t easily swayed. Until he met Naomi. How can he be when she’s looking at him with those big doe eyes of hers, weakening his otherwise tough resolve? It may not help her tomorrow, but who is he to deny her reprieve at least right now? Saying no to her has never been a strength Ethan claimed to possess.

Not giving any sort of warning, Ethan grips the oversized shirt she’s wearing and forcefully pulls it up, barely giving her enough time to lift her arms and help with the process. Once the piece of clothing is discarded somewhere on his bedroom floor, Ethan flips their positions, Naomi’s back landing on his mattress with a soft thud.

He sucks in a sharp breath. Ethan considers himself to be a well traveled, well cultured man. He’s seen the Eiffel Tower multiple times, visited the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, driven a Ferrari through the streets of Rome, drank wine while overlooking a Napa vineyard, and more. But none of those even comes close to the sight of Naomi naked in his bed, writhing on top of his sheets, her curly hair splayed out like a crown atop her head. She’s absolutely beautiful, and he’s a goner. He’s always known it, but this moment right here, right now actually seals the deal.

“Why don’t you take a picture?” Naomi asks, jolting Ethan out of his thoughts. He feels her dainty foot running along the soft cotton of his pajama pants before traveling higher, lightly brushing his side.

He catches her foot, his strong hand wrapping around her ankle, and yanks her forward. “I don’t need to take a picture because the real thing is just fine.” Maintaining eye contact, Ethan presses a line of kisses from her ankle to the inside of her knee, smirking as he feels the goosebumps pop up along the trail he’s set. “God, it really doesn’t take much to get you going, huh?”

“Not when it involves you, no,” Naomi replies.

Ethan drops her leg unceremoniously. His hands wander until they’re hooked into the waistband of her lacy underwear, and he pulls them down quickly, deciding not to make a production of it. A hum of approval leaves his throat when he finds her already soaked for him. He runs a finger along her spreading the wetness around before pressing the single digit into her. “I like that answer.”

Her toes curl at the contact and Naomi grips the sheets beneath her. “Oh, fuck.”

“Christ, you’re tight.”

“It’s been a while,” Naomi admits, panting heavily. “The guy I was into ran off to another continent, and put us on ice.”

Ethan can tell by her tone that she’s merely teasing, but his heart still hammers wildly nonetheless. He wasted so much time, and for what? He slides another finger into her, enjoying the moan she gives him in return. “It appears I have some atoning to do, hmm?”

Naomi nods. “A lot of atoning.”

“Very well.” 

She feels him remove his fingers, and nothing makes her head spin more. Lifting herself up by her elbows, Naomi glares down at Ethan. “What are you doing? You can’t just stop!”

“Relax.” Ethan forces Naomi back to her originally flat position. “I think you know better than anyone that I’m going to take good care of you.” She chooses not to respond, because they both know the answer to that is a resounding yes.

He spreads her thighs and Naomi shivers at the gleam in his eyes, positively engraved by the way he looks at her: all lust and hunger. Desperate for Ethan to actually do something, she tilts her hips up, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Ethan chuckles and places an open mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh. She swears she can feel herself buzzing with anticipation, her insides on fire, and all she wants him to do is just touch her.

When he finally does, she’s shocked she doesn’t combust then and there. Her head tips back and a low groan tumbles from her lips, and her thighs clamp shut so tightly around Ethan’s head, she’d be apologetic if she wasn’t so far gone. Ethan doesn’t skip a beat though, his fingers digging into her thighs and spreading them apart, and then he’s back to his original mission.

Ethan’s tongue glides through her folds with ease, stroking her up and down a few times before closing his mouth around her clit and sucking hard. Her hips fly off the bed and she grinds into him with a reckless abandon she hasn’t felt in a really long time, but Ethan splays a strong hand across her stomach to hold her down, trapping her between him and his bed.

Trying to gain a modicum of power back, Naomi grips a handful of his hair and tugs at it roughly. It’s an action that makes Ethan growl, his mouth vibrating against her.

Her little moans and cries do nothing to help the raging ego Naomi claims he has, instead they only fuel him further. He ups the ante, his two fingers sliding back into her, curling in a come hither motion and pressing repeatedly against the spot that makes her see stars.

He can tell by the vice grip she has on his fingers and the way she’s undulating against him that she’s close. And while he’s content to draw this out for as long as humanly possible, until he’s wrung every little ounce of pleasure from her that he can, Ethan is well aware that the woman occupying his bed doesn’t have that type of patience.

Giving her a bit of reprieve, he takes his mouth off of her, only moving it slightly so he can kiss the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

“God, Ethan.”

“Say my name again, Rookie,” Ethan commands. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Naomi obeys without as much as a second thought. It doesn’t take much to get her to say his name again, the word coming out as a shout in between a broken cry. Ethan smirks, satisfied with his work, and his tongue finds her clit, stroking the tiny bundle a few more times until her orgasm zips through her with the intensity of a lightning strike. Her entire body tenses up as Ethan continues to lap at her, as she rides out the aftershocks.

When she’s finally in control of her senses again, the first thing Naomi notices is how absolutely wrecked Ethan looks, eyes red and glossy, mouth and beard soaked, and she wants to do nothing more than kiss him. So she does, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back on top of her. She can taste herself on his mouth and it makes her moan.

Impatient, Naomi reaches between their bodies and tugs at the waistband of his pants. Ethan receives the message loud and clear, and he breaks the kiss to strip as quickly as he can. She watches as Ethan flings his shirt across the room and kicks off his pajama bottoms. He isn’t the only one with above average observation skills, and she notices the slight tremble in his hands, the anticipation as intense for him as it is for her. She’d be lying if she said reducing this great and powerful man to nothing more than a shaky mess isn’t a turn on. Once his boxers are gone, Naomi looks him up and down, every part of him still as she remembered.

Her eyes zero in on his erection, painfully hard. She wraps her hand around him, stroking firmly. “My my, doctor, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like me.”

The other four letter L-word rattles around in his brain, begging to be set free, and with more strength than he thought he had, Ethan manages to keep quiet. He’d never forgive himself for such selfishness if he blurted out he loves her in the middle of sex. Naomi has enough to deal with already without that added layer of complexity.

Ethan’s thoughts are interrupted, a sharp hiss passing through his teeth as he feels her tongue languidly glide across the swollen head of his erection before taking him fully in her mouth.

He doesn’t know what will kill him first: how good it feels, or the fact that she’s staring up at him with those fucking Disney princess eyes again, feigning innocence like she’s unaware of exactly what she does to him.

He allows her to get in one more stroke of her tongue before he grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her away. One of her eyebrows raises in question. “What’s wrong? I was just getting started.”

He drags them back into bed before answering, “I need to be inside you. You can do whatever you want to me afterwards.”

She grins at the promise of a next time. Whatever she wants? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ramsey.”

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Ethan assures her. 

Naomi feels him, poised at her entrance and she arches backwards, too overly sensitive. Ethan’s hands are back on her hips, holding her in place, and inch by inch, he fills her. They both groan at the sensation, familiar territory but something new entirely. Her hands fly to his back, nails digging into the skin as she’s stretched to maximum capacity, uncaring if she leaves marks.

Ethan is unsure of how long they’ve been like this, but he’s nearly shaking with the restraint it’s taking him to not thrust into her. He drops his head, kissing a line across her collarbone. “Fuck, baby, I need you to let me know when I can move.”

The pet name wasn’t intentional, spilling from Ethan’s lips before he could stop it, but Naomi whimpers regardless. She hooks her legs behind his back, keeping him just as trapped as she is. “Please.”

He moves slowly, partially to give her a chance to adjust to his size, the other reason because he doesn’t want it to be over as quickly as it started. This, being inside of her again, is overwhelming and Ethan can’t believe there was ever a time he thought he could go without.

“You’re incredible,” Ethan compliments.

“Okay, say it again when I’m not in your bed. Like during a team meeting where you’re shooting down my ideas.”

“You are,” Ethan insists.

He thrusts into her again, and Naomi cries out, nails raking at his back. Surely she’s broken skin at this point, but Ethan doesn’t care. He’s never been one for pain in bed, but with Naomi, he’s willing to make an allowance, especially since it leaves way for pleasure. They move in tandem, hips moving against each other, both trying to coax out the release that’s been building. Unable to do much of anything else, Ethan leans forward, kissing Naomi again. She meets him halfway, just as eager as he is.

Eventually she has to break the kiss, and she gasps in a large breath of air, her lungs constricting tightly in her rib cage. In her distracted moment, Ethan manages to free himself of her hands marking him relentlessly, and he captures both of her wrists in one fell swoop. He holds them above her head in one hand, pressing her as deep into the mattress as possible. The new angle catches her by surprise and she can’t do anything but gasp into the air above her.

“Please.” She doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for at this point, but it’s the only word her brain can comprehend so she chants it repeatedly like a prayer until she’s shattering around him, mouth open, head tipped back, skin flush and warm. She’s perfect like this, Ethan surmises. 

It doesn’t take him more than a few more thrusts before Ethan’s own release takes control and he falls forward, leaning some of his weight onto Naomi. He doesn’t trust himself to not say or do something completely stupid, so he buries his face in the crook of her neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh.

It could’ve been mere minutes that they spent in that position, or it could’ve been hours for all Naomi knows, but when Ethan finally pulls out, he’s kissing her all over: her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

He wraps her in a solid embrace, arms circling around her and holding her close, their erratic heart rates trying to slow down. Ethan feels at peace doing just this, holding her close to him, feeling the rise and fall of her chest.

Do you feel any better?”

That isn’t a question Naomi expects to hear right after sex, and it causes her to pause.  After a few more moments of silence, she answers, “I mean, the endorphin release was great if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”

Naomi knew going into it that the sex wasn’t going to soothe all of her hurts and be the magical solution to her problems, so she doesn’t need some major “I-told-you-so” moment from him. But for the first time in almost a week, she feels like herself again. Within the confines of these four walls, Ethan didn’t treat her like some fragile little doll, and her mind was able to take a break from overthinking.

“It was nice to turn my brain off, if only for a short time,” Naomi replies. “It was nice to not be a captive to my trauma.”

Ethan’s fingers gently graze her scalp, massaging. “Do you think you’re ready to talk to me now?”

“No.”

She’s as stubborn as ever. “Fair enough. But if we were to talk about it, I would say that you went through something horrible and traumatic, and you have to allow yourself to actually feel and process whatever emotions you have. I’d also say that you are incredibly strong, but your strength doesn’t mean that you have to bottle everything inside in order to make everyone around you feel better, especially when you’re with me. Strong people have the right to be vulnerable too.” Ethan sighs. “But since we aren’t talking about it, I’m not going to say any of those things.”

Naomi curls in closer to Ethan, comforted by his body warmth. “I think I would really enjoy hearing those things if this was a conversation we were having.”

“Good. Now whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be prepared.”

“Thank you.”

“I think it’s what good boyfriends do. Or whatever the hell I am to you. That’s what you said, right?”

“Okay, I have an explanation for getting agitated about the technical definition of our relationship.”

“Oh yeah? I’d love to hear it.”

“I was impatient and horny.”

Ethan laughs, the warm and rich sound curling around her insides. It does more to help than she’ll ever be able to convey to him. “You’re also very honest.”

“To a fault at times, yes.”

A silence settled between them again, and Naomi feels her eyelids getting heavier. Maybe she’ll be able to finally get some real sleep, not the fitful unconsciousness she’s been subjected to for the past few days.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” Naomi says. 

He’s going to suggest she talk to a therapist. He’s going to say it multiple times, until he’s blue in the face and she’s tired of listening. But he'll leave her alone for tonight.

“You’re welcome. Now, get some sleep. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner we wake up, and I can cook breakfast for you.”

“Mhmm, sounds like a plan, Ramsey.”

Ethan can feel her falling asleep on him. He presses a kiss into her forehead. “Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“For the record, I am definitely your boyfriend.”

~v~

tags: @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @mrsramseyy @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

[captainsassmanes]

Follow up to It’s the Little Things

Alex poked his fingers between the blinds and slowly lifted them, hoping not to draw attention to himself. 

It was 9am on a blazing hot Saturday and he’d been woken by the sound of a weedwacker whirring right outside his window. He didn’t have to look to know exactly who it was, but he was curious as to what the fuck Michael was doing.

He’d be lying if he said the image of Michael, shirtless and sweating, didn’t turn him right the hell on but this was getting out of hand.

After Alex had spilled his guts, throwing his insecurities into the wind before thinking about where they’d land, he couldn’t get up. He lived for helping Michael, for finding ways to give back, to make some kind of difference, however small, in the other man’s life. 

Michael had managed to call him on his bullshit, though. It was Alex’s way of staying involved, of being as close to Michael as he could be without physically being near him.

But he’d pushed too hard and it really was over. 

That first night was awful. He replayed their conversation, or the word vomit he’d spewed, nonstop. He drank, and then drank some more, until he woke up on the couch, stiff and barely able to move with a headache that made blinking agonizing.

After a puke, a coffee and some eggs, Alex had taken Buffy outside and sat in one of his patio chairs, taking in his house, his car, his stuff.

It meant little now.

The thought of Michael, of their potential relationship, possible future, had quietly been keeping him going all these years. To have that hope extinguished...he didn’t have the words to describe how empty he’d felt.

His chest ached as he went inside and opened his laptop, starting his search for the country’s top cities. He knew he’d want to live somewhere busy, populated, but safe. His job could easily be remote once his re-enlistment period was up, plus he had quite a bit of money saved so he could take his time getting readjusted.

New York City and LA definitely had his attention, the music scenes alone would be worth the trip, but the apartments were tiny, and he may end up having to sell a kidney to pay his rent. Miami wasn’t his scene and Seattle looked like the type of place to send his depression spiraling.

He grabbed his third cup of coffee and moved to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and making room for Buffy to rest her head on his lap. He found another one of those top cities lists and was intrigued by Portland. LGBT friendly, relaxed people, music scene, not so far that he couldn’t visit if he wanted to.

That afternoon was spent clicking through photos, checking out postings for apartments, falling down a YouTube spiral of some artists who got their start in the city.

The next day, feeling a bit better with a plan under his belt, he’d ventured outside to Beam Me Up for a cup of coffee and a snack. On his way out, he literally bumped into Maria.

“God, sorry. Did any of that spill?”

Alex just blinked, an uncomfortable wave of jealousy moving over his skin and pinching him where it landed.

He shook his head and said, “no. It’s okay.”

She gave him a smile as they stood awkwardly in the doorway. He wanted to say something, even if it was small or unimportant, just something to break the ice, but his instincts telling him to get home were clouding his thoughts.

“Michael mentioned he saw you the other day.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. They hadn’t spoken in weeks; nothing more than worthless pleasantries and she knew why; he’d been honest with her. He’d also felt he’d been fair, leaving them both alone to their relationship, not interfering or getting involved.

At least he’d thought that was what he’d been doing.

But now, as he stared at his oldest friend, watching as her face changed to apprehension, maybe realizing that playing the we can connect over Michael card was the wrong move, he felt angry.

“I’m moving.”

Maria stepped back, surprised. “What?”

Alex nodded, looking around the street, hoping he looked as relaxed and casual as he was aiming for. “Yep. When my enlistment period is over.”

Her mouth opened and shut a few times, small sounds trying to become words escaping. Eventually, she was able to croak out a, “where?”

Alex shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Portland looked interesting. I’m looking at a few apartments there.”

The silence took over again as the street became a bit busier with the weekend tourists coming out to enjoy the weather and the sights. Maria’s hair bounced, the ends of her head scarf wrapping loosely around her throat. “You’re leaving because of me, right? Because of me and Michael? You can’t just go because – “

“I have no reason to stay, Maria.” Their eyes met and both sets were filled with a sadness neither could describe. Alex’s heart felt too heavy in his chest, memories of late nights and shared shakes and tears and joints and hugs threatening to leak out of his eyes. Instead, he smiled. “My time here’s up. I did my part but it’s time to see something new.”

With that he turned and walked to his car, coffee cup shaking in one hand while his fingers curled painfully around the bag in the other. Fuck he missed Maria. But he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look at her the way he used to again.

It was that night, his excitement dwindling and replaced by a quiet desperation, when the first text had come through.

Don’t leave.

Alex stared. Obviously, Maria had told Michael about their chat. Maybe he felt bad, a twinge of guilt. Alex hoped he did, then felt guilty for hoping Michael felt guilty. This was exactly why he had to leave.

He ignored the text and went back to his computer, sipping on a beer and occasionally giving Buffy some nice scratches behind the ears.

His phone pinged again. Alex stared at it, hoping his glare would make it blow up or something. In the end, curiosity got the best of him and he looked at the text.

Don’t leave me.

Alex’s heart raced as his fingers moved without thinking.

You wouldn’t come with me anyway.

He turned his phone off and tossed it across the room, not caring when it bounced along the wood floor a few times.

He didn’t sleep well after that. Thoughts of car rides and spaceships and apartments and soft blankets and bright sunshine and honey curls played behind his eyelids every time he tried to rest.

The further away from Michael he was, the better it’d be for everyone.

The next morning his doorbell rang at 8am. Alex had thought it was a part of his dream at first, cuddled up on a firm, warm chest, wiry hairs beneath his fingers while nails scraped his scalp, lulling him back to sleep. When the buzzing continued, he was thrown back into reality with a big, empty bed and a headache to boot.

Grabbing his crutches, he went to the door and threw it open, shocked to find Michael on the other side looking clean shaven with a cup of coffee.

Michael looked…different. Yes, the beard was trimmed, maybe his hair, too? His clothes were definitely clean. But there was an energy, an aura, around him that Alex hadn’t seen in years. One side of Michael’s mouth lifted, an almost bashful smile, and he held out the coffee cup. Even Michael’s fingernails were clean. Alex lost some time staring at those nails and remembering the comfort they’d brought him in his dream just moments before.

Michael cleared his throat, bringing Alex’s attention back to the moment. “Whole milk and one sugar.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

Michael shrugged and pushed the cup gently into Alex’s chest. “Bringing you a coffee. Good morning, by the way.”

Alex would later blame the broken night’s sleep for the dreamy way he’d whispered out, “good morning,” while accepting the cup. He took a sip and was instantly in his glory. His favorite coffee from his favorite café made perfectly delivered by his favorite…

“Well, have a good day, Alex.”

While Alex stood in the doorway, mouth hanging open at a loss for words, Michael sauntered back to his truck and drove away.

It had fucked with Alex for the rest of the day.

After that morning, Michael made appearances most days. A delivery of a burger and fries one afternoon, randomly bent over the hood of Alex’s Jeep for a tune up a few evenings later, dropping off a case of Alex’s favorite beer. Each time Michael came around, the conversation was limited. Michael would smile, explain why he was there and, as soon as he was finished, he’d smile and say goodbye, driving off once again.

Alex hated it. It was so confusing and contradictory, it made him fucking furious.

Alex really loved it.

He was seeing more of Michael than he had in years and Michael was absolutely different but in a way that suited Michael, not as though he’d changed to fit someone else’s wishes. He looked great and seemed healthy. Happy.

Apparently, today was clean up the yard day. With a sigh, Alex turned from his window and looked at Buffy with her head raised and cocked to the side in concern.

“Yes, it’s Michael.” Buffy’s tail wagged furiously. “You little traitor.”

Alex watched him for a few quiet minutes, taking in every detail, from the way his curls looked almost blonde when the sun hit just right, to the pattern of body hair scattered across his torso, to the flex of his legs when he bent and stretched.

He’d realized the other night, as he sipped on one of the beers Michael had bought him, that he’d stopped looking at apartments, collecting more information on Portland. All it took was for Michael to notice him and his universe tilted, and its center of gravity became Michael once again. That was the first night since their fight he’d allowed himself to cry again.

With a sudden surge of resolve, Alex threw open his drawers and grabbed whatever clothes his hands touched. He took the time to get his leg on, wanting to feel stable and steady for whatever came next.

By the time he got outside, Michael was leaning against the bed of the truck looking like a tan god, bottle of water to his lips, head tossed back with his face covered in sunlight.

Taking a deep breath, Alex charged ahead.

“I want a reason.”

Michael startled a bit, lost in his own thoughts, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Alex couldn’t help but stare at the dampness his hand missed.

“What reason?”

“Don’t be coy, Michael. It’s not cute.”

Playfully, Michael pouted while batting his lashes. Alex wanted to laugh and scream and cry and hold Michael, confusion and caution warring within him.

Alex looked at the ground, noting a nasty scuff across the toe of one of his boots. He pushed his foot into the sand and whispered, “why are you doing this to me?”

Michael made a quiet noise that sounded hurt and stood straight, blocking out the sun from Alex’s face. “To you?”

Alex looked up and fell into hazel eyes. He nodded. “You’re not actually trying to talk to me. But you’re being- being really kind and generous. I don’t understand.” He shook his head this time and took a step back so he could think. “You told me to get out of your life, I say okay, and then you come flying back into mine.”

Michael shook his head and started digging around the bed of his truck, apparently looking for his t-shirt to throw on as well as his trademark hat. Turning back to Alex, he shrugged and pulled out his car keys.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, Alex.” The silence between them felt thick with opportunity; to be honest, straightforward. Just a chance. “But that night I…” Michael scoffed and broke eye contact, looking around at Alex’s house. “You’ve got a loose shingle up there – “

“That night you what, Michael?”

With a sigh, Michael continued, “I knew that might be it. I know I’ve pushed, and you’ve walked and recently I’ve been pushing a lot harder but I just, I dunno, never let myself imagine you not being in my life somehow.”

Alex crinkled his eyebrows, confused yet again. “If you didn’t want me to go then why say all that shit about – “

“I have been drowning for years, Alex. In booze, in sex, in work, in regret. Just fucking drowning. Then you came back, and your dad was the fucking devil and then my mom and Max. I couldn’t separate it all out. Everything felt like it went back to you.”

Alex nodded, feeling the familiar creep of guilt working its way into his gut. “And I said I understood all of that. I gave you as much space as I could.”

“Did you?”

Alex sighed and dug his hands into his pockets, wishing he had something in his hands to keep them better occupied. He could either choke Guerin at the moment or pull him into a suffocating kiss. He couldn’t decide.

“I guess I didn’t.” He blinked as the next thought smacked him across the face. “I’m not as strong as you, Michael. I can’t know you’re nearby and struggling and do nothing.”

Michael shook his head, taking a step closer to Alex.

“That’s why I’m moving. I can’t stop myself from being in your orbit and you made it clear that’s what you wanted. It’ll give me a fresh start, too, you know. No one’ll recognize the Manes name. No one will care. I can just be another face out there, have a little anonymity and figure out what I’m doing.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Alex groaned. “C’mon, Michael! You just came here not that long ago bitching that I sent you some food! I’d think you’d be thrilled that I’d be gone.”

Michael laughed. Alex watched as his face changed with the humor and his heart broke a little to see how much younger Michael could look when he relaxed. Even if just for a second. “I told you stay away. You didn’t. I told you again stay away and then you did. Then I couldn’t stay away and now you’re gonna leave. Can we just say the fucking things we need to say and stop doing this?”

Alex took the challenge at face value and straightened up, nodding his head. “Fine.”

“Why did you do all those nice things for me even when I told you to stay away?”

“Because I love you.”

The ease with which those words slid from Alex’s mouth surprised both of them. There was something freeing about the honesty, of finally just saying the words out loud to Michael without fear of rejection or consequence.

He took a deep breath. “Because I love you and I was worried about you.”

Michael licked his lips and looked away, nodding in understanding.

“Your turn,” Alex whispered, pulling Michael’s attention back. “Why do you keep showing up here when you told me to stay away?”

“Because I regretted everything I said as soon as I said it.” Alex lifted an eyebrow, not fully understanding. “I thought I needed distance. Not seeing you all the damn time helped me focus on other things. And I did tell you the truth; I didn’t think we were good for each other and I really, really wanted to be good for Maria.”

Alex took a step back, feeling the burn in his throat start at the mention of his friend’s name when Michael’s callused fingers wrapped around his wrist. “The second I realized I probably pushed you completely out of my life, I regretted it. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to stop caring. I want to be better. I just – “

Michael stopped and took a deep breath, clearly overwhelmed as his voice began to crack. Alex slowly shifted his wrist from Michael’s grip and gently held his fingers in his own.

Michael sighed, “can you ask me one more time?”

Alex nodded. “Why do you keep showing up here when you told me to stay away?”

“Because I love you.”

They stood together in the blazing sun, sweating and staring at one another as though the world had fallen away. The moment was broken when Alex’s eyes shifted to Michael’s turquoise belt buckle. “But you love Maria, too.”

Michael nodded and watched helplessly as Alex let go of his hand. “I do. But I love Maria the same way you love Maria.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what that means.”

“She’s my friend, Alex. That night we fought I had an epiphany.”

“An epiphany?”

“Yeah. You probably already know this but I’m an alcoholic.”

Alex’s head whipped up with concern in his eyes. His mouth moved but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Michael took it as his cue to continue. “I’ve also been a shit brother to Isobel, so I’ve been working on that. But the morning after I left here, I talked to Maria. Told her how I was feeling, she talked about her feelings and, we both just told the truth.”

“Which was?”

A smile tugged on Michael’s lips. “That we both love you.”

Alex cleared his throat, doing his best not to start crying. “I’d like to get back to the alcoholic piece of this, and I’m glad you’ve stepped up to support Isobel but, uh, are you and Maria still together?”

Michael shook his head. “Not for about, what? Two weeks now?”

Alex nodded. “Okay.”

“Go out with me.”

Alex waited a beat, making sure he’d heard clearly before repeating, “okay.”

“The Crashdown? Lunch tomorrow? Around 12?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. I’ll meet you there.”

Michael smiled and closed his truck. Slowly, he took off his hat and leaned in, kissing Alex on the cheek. They were both just piles of sweat and beet[TS1]  red, but Alex thought it might be one of the most romantic moments of his life.

“I wanna do this right, Alex. From the beginning.”

Alex smiled. “Me, too. I’ll see you tomorrow. For our first date.”

Michael laughed, his youth bursting through every pore. “For our first date.”

[laketaj24]

Twisted: Gangster!M’Baku/ Dom!Erik

Thirst 💦👅 Day requests for you! I have never written slap kink but hey, first time for everything. Triggers are in the tags! If you like my work reblog/like/comment lol Thank you! I have two more left!!!!! I know I’m bugging yall! my bad! 

Requests:  

Coming for the kinks, you say??? Well can I request a dub con fic with my beloved Killmonger? Lol - @vanitykocaine​

 Hey. I'm currently on vacation but I'm using the little ounce of free wifi that I can't get to send in a kink request 😂😂😂😂 Can I get a Erik with a praise kink? Either him praising the reader or the other way around but i need some nice Erik to even out all these good nigga Erik's 😂🤣 thanks love 😘❤❤❤ - @valynsia​​

Office sex with Erik? - @yaachtynoboat711​

I don't really have a kink to be honest. But maybe super possessive mob boss where he dated the reader and had a daddy type of relationship. They break up but he spots the reader out with a new boyfriend? Maybe super hot smutty public you will always belong to me sex? - @scumyeol​

Yay! I would die for some face/ass/titty slappin and biting with Erik. I dont care who's doin the slapping i just need a pain kink fic tbh.if you do this I'll be eternally grateful, if u dont i still love you dear!!! - Anon

Sooooo for that thirstday post....... all i can think of right now is m'baku and just straight up rough sex 😁😁😁 like the "you are being annoying because you haven't gotten any in a while so I gotta help you" type of sex - @pebblesz892​

So, thirst day? I’d like to request M’Baku with hair pulling and dirty talk. Please and thank you 😈 - @muse-of-mbaku​

Mbaku smut- @mbakuwifey​

You and Erik had been together for nine months and you didn’t want anyone else, even your ex M’Baku. Some things were not meant to be and that just happened to be one. Erik had his ways… Selfish. Loud and arrogant but when all the bullshit washed away you saw the real him. The him that truly wanted this to work with you. He opens the door for you and your Manalo heels hit the floor.

“We ain’t gotta stay long if you don’t want to.” Erik places his hand at the nape of your back and ushers you into the club with him. This was his scene. Always being seen talking to everyone and he had you right there with him introducing you like the Queen he claimed you to be. “This is my girl Y/N, Y/N this is Mike.”

You wave at him and talk casually then slip away from Erik dying for a drink and a moment to take it all in. You sit at the bar with your legs crossed. “Shot of Jack, please.”

“Sure thing.” The brown headed bartender said winking at you.

You shake your head knocking back the shot and watching your surroundings entertained. Then you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Enjoying yourself.” M’Baku whispers in your ear taking the barstool next to you for himself.

Your heart is heavy for a moment remembering how sultry that voice was and how it had the power to make you weak. “What do you want?”

“This is my spot.”

“Oh, you still illegally winning I see.” You roll your eyes and stand up from the bar. He’s in front of you shaking his head. “Can we talk for a minute? Five minutes?”

“About what?”

“You’ll know when we start talking.” M’Baku leads you out of the main area to a room overlooking the dancefloor. The music still loud but you were able to speak without yelling. “New guy?”

“yeah, he’s cool.”

“A fuck boy, but if that’s what you consider cool then okay.” M’Baku lights his blunt inhaling for a moment and sitting on the couch in front of you. “you moved on quick.” He slowly blows out the smoke leaving the room in a haze for a moment.

“It’s been almost a year. Who all have you fucked hmmm, big thug nasty M’Baku. I left you because you didn’t want to grow up or live in the real world. You wanted to sit up here and play all these fucking games and honestly I don’t have time for that shit.”

“Who are you talking to?” he stand placing the blunt in the ashtray and pulling you closer to him. “Perhaps this new man has given you some type of power that makes you think you can address me like you’re crazy but no. you could be fucking the entire squad and you’re still fucking mine. I think it’s time your remembered.”

“M’Baku, he’s looking for…” He’s before you shaking his head flipping you around so that your chest is flush against the glass. “M’Baku…”

“Keep saying my name.” He says with his hands traveling up your legs. You moan as he pushes into you with his thick fingers once and then again. The crowd below you can’t see you at all but the thought of Erik watching you fuck another man makes you wet. “Does he fuck you like I do?” M’Baku whispers in your ear aligning himself up quickly thrusting into you.  You’d forgot his power. His hands wrap around your ponytail and your head is against his chest as he pounds into you. “I don’t care who you have on your arm.” He grunts thrusting into you and pulling out slowly only to fill you again.

“Oh fuck.” You gasp hearing the smack of your skin together. You grab onto the bar as he increases his speed biting his lip while gripping your hair so hard it hurts. “I can’t breathe.” You scream. “I’m fucking coming.”

“Then come, what you holding that shit for?” M’Baku smiles slamming into you so hard you do come. You see fireworks explode around you as your snap your eyes shut. Your knees are weak barely holding you up and you feel him lift you up still fucking you over and over. “I want you to go home tonight and fucking feel me when you sleep.” He growled. “fuck that other nigga.” M’Baku feels you clutching around him and it triggers his own release. He spills into the condom with a roar that for sure could be heard downstairs and lowers you to the ground. “You better get dressed. Old dude probably on the hunt.” He picks up his blunt and tucks himself back into his pats leaving the room.

 Erik was insistent on you going home with him tonight and you didn’t want to, you wanted to wash M’Baku off your body. You wanted to cry in the shower and try to push out all the get good shit you and M’Baku had in the past, because he was not for you. You grab your overnight bag from the car following him into the house. Erik’s house was lavish like him.

“Baby, I sweated at that damn club all damn night. You mind if I get clean and I’ll be right up.”

“Nah ma, take your time I gotta finish some shit from the Outreach.” He kisses you on the lips softly and you go head up the spiral staircase. You bathe taking your hair down from the ponytail and slipping on one of Erik’s shirts. He was a hard worker. He was always in that office doing something. You head down the steps to his office where he is typing a few things into the computer. He had changed to, he was shirtless and smiling. “You done washing that nigga off?”

Your heart drops for the second time tonight into your stomach. “What?”

“You heard me…” He stands up from the desk and in three strides is in front of you. “You up there fucking yo ex like I don’t have people every fucking where watching you. So did you wash that nigga off?”

“Yes.”

“Nah, we at home now….” He raises his eyebrow at you awaiting your tone to change.

“Yes N’jadaka.” You look up at him with your mouth slightly parted trying to remember to breathe. “I’m sorry N’Jadaka.” You whimper. “Baby…”

He rubs your face softly and then his three fingers hit your face sending a zing pleasure below. “what are you sorry for?” Erik says rubbing your face again then he hits again and his hands down to the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. “Tell your Prince what you sorry for?”

“Fucking M’Baku.”

“Giving another motherfucker what’s mine.” He growled. “Hmmm?”

“Yes…”

“Good girl, I like when you’re honest… sit on the desk. I didn’t get to eat today and I’m fucking starved.” He sucks air in through his teeth and you see those gold canines. “You’re not to come when I do this? You hear me?” He slaps your thighs crouching down in front of you, his eyes looking like they had seen a god. Erik laps his tongue over your clit and then sucks for a second. You were already sensitive and yearning but the teasing of him didn’t make it easy to not cum. You closed your mind off as he sucked and twirled down below pushing your lips firm against the cold wooden desk and taking his sweet time. Each time he licked your heart spiked and your breathing became more labored.

“N’Jadka please.” You moaned. “Please.”

“You don’t deserve that shit.” He said against your thigh. He raises from the ground leaves you aching. “What do you think you deserve?” he asks.

“To cum.”

“Nah, next…”

“Your dick.” You plea kissing him tasting yourself on his lips.

“Good as answer baby girl, drop to them knees for me.” You do in front of him and you stroke him in your hands. Then he knocks your hands down tapping the side of your face with his fingers again. “Suck.” He pushes to the back of your throat nearly suffocating you and then pulls out and then he’s back again causing your eyes to well. Erik slaps the side of your face over and over with his hand and you can’t take it. You want him inside of you and you try to pull away, but he has grasped the back of your head thrusting into you nonstop until your saliva is trailing from his dick. “Take it.” He growls and you do bobbing your head until he’s nearly there then he stops you.  “Good girl. You wanna come?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please N’Jadaka let me come.” He shakes his head and you can see the demon in him rising up. He grabs both of your breast gripping and twisting until it hurts then slapping and you feel yourself nearly come from the pleasure of it. He knew how to do those things to you. Erik places you back on the desk.

“What if I went around giving your dick away huh?” You don’t answer so he spreads your legs. “I told you I don’t like that sharing shit.” He smiles against your neck and lifts you just so he can slide into you. He pounds you for a few seconds and then slows when he feels your body tensing near a climax. “Nah, you don’t deserve to come. You ain’t sorry.” He slides out and your legs clamp around his waist. “What?”

“I am sorry.” You plea. “Please…”

“I ain’t convinced ma.” His tip toys at your entrance and you thrust forward and he moves teasing you. “You don’t run this shit.” Erik leans in and sucks on your neck and your throw your head back. “Next time, I will fucking kill him.” He says in your ear as he pushes back into you. Erik grips your hips bringing you to meet him at every thrust and your breathless scratching down his back and your boy starts to shake when the euphoria hits you in waves.

“Yesssssss.” You hiss. “fucking yessss N’Jadaka.”

“You gone see that nigga again…” He asks through clenched teeth.

“No baby.”

“That’s fucking right.” He growls tapping your face before he kisses you again. “Good fucking girl coming on daddy’s dick like that, god damn.” He chants in your ear licking from your earlobe to your neck. You come again as his pace quickens and you feel him swell inside of you. “God damn!” He pants withdrawing from you and sending his cum down your legs.

Tagging:  @challaxkillmonger @wakanda-inspired @misspooh @valynsia@vanitykocaine @harleycativy @jecourt@virgosapphire79@sparklemichele@theunsweetenedtruth@ahhhhkeya@iamrheaspeaks @thiccdaddy-mbaku@muse-of-mbaku@myboyfriendgiriboy @someareblindtoitsbeauty@brittyevans@almostpurelysmut @readsalot73@ivarsshieldmadien@slimmiyagi@cinnabearice @royallyprincesslilly @hutchj

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

The Gauge Gifter: Finale

When Jack walked into the living room around noon time, as expected he saw each and every one of the egos in there, too, either standing around or sitting on the sofa or floor. He smiled as he took notice of the gauges they all had on.

“Hey fellas, nice piercings!”

“Zhank you, my friend,” Henrik chuckled, although a frown settled on his face as he rolled up his sleeve and checked his watch. “Huh, it’s noon already.”

“I still got 11:59 on my watch, Doc,” Chase told him. “You might be a little behind.”

“Ugh, who gives a shit what time it is?” Anti hissed, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he brandished his knife. “We’re all here, aren’t we?” He surveyed the room, seeing his fellow egos talking to each other and sharing the other gauges and notes they received. “Where is this so-called Gauge Gif-?”

“Hey guys~”

One by one, all of them fell silent as they looked towards the front door, eyes widening when they saw it was none other than-

“[Y/n]?!”

You blinked in surprise, chuckling and putting your hands up. “Hey, hey, one at a time now.” Lowering them, you smiled sweetly at the egos, fiddling with one of your own gauges. It was completely black and had a [f/c] spiral. “I see you all love your little gifts~”

“W-Wait..you were the one who gave us all of these?” Marvin gawked. “I mean..this was so nice and we love them so much. But…why?”

“I figured I’d help spread the PMA around.” You grinned, unable to mask the happiness in your tone of voice. “I’ve noticed that some of you have been feeling down in the dumps as of late..” Your gaze flickered to Chase, who smiled back at you with tears in his eyes.

“So I decided to give you guys some nice gauges and some reminders of how awesome all of you are. Then just for fun I added those little clues at the end so you had something to do while I was away~”

At first, nobody moved nor said a word as they took in everything you just revealed to them.

Then Jack walked over to you and smiled, bringing you into a hug which you happily returned. “Thank you so much, [y/n],” he whispered, squeezing you tight. “I guess me chantin’ “PMA” nonstop finally got to your head, huh?”

“Maybe,” you chuckled as you let go of each other. “But I just..want this to be a good year..for all of us.” You looked back at the egos. “We may already be two months in but it’s never too late to start on a clean slate.”

“That’s really sweet of ya,” Angus nodded, although he frowned slightly. “But…weren’t ya all the way across the ocean or somethin’? How did ya manage to leave these for us and not blow your cover?”

“Let’s just say..Dark and Wilford owed me a favor.” You shrugged. “I won’t go into details but basically..they were able to teleport me in and out of here and erase any trace of my presence.”

“So that’s why I was unable to detect any prints..” S-3-4-N realized, looking down at his hands. “..at least now I know it wasn’t due to some flaw in my code..”

“But that…a-all of this that you did, just for us and for the sake of spreading PMA is phenomenal, [y/n],” Jackie smiled brightly, being the next person to give you a bear hug. “We can’t thank you enough.”

You simply chuckled and returned the embrace, before you let go and allowed the others to come up to hug you or thank you next.

Even Anti did after some encouragement. He walked towards you with a bored expression, putting his arms around you in an awkward hug. You did the same, sighing softly and patting his back.

In your mind, you knew that the demon will shove you away after a few seconds and glitch back to his room.

Much to your surprise, though, he was still hugging you.

“Why me, though?”

Everyone froze at the glitch’s question.

“What do you mean, Anti?” You asked him, confused, although you felt him tremble a bit as he rested his head on your shoulder. In that same moment you could feel tears start to soak your clothing.

“Wh-Why did ya include me in this…this stupid…PMA bullshit, too?” He sniffled. “It’s not like it’ll..f-fuckin’ work on me. I-I don’t….g-get…what dumbass would th-think I’m worthy of a-any kind of-?”

“Me of course.” Your smile returned as you held him close, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Believe me when I say that you are worthy of having some PMA in your life, just as much as everyone in this room does. Give it time and it will work its magic. I promise.”

Anti didn’t answer, but given how tightly he was hugging you, it was clear that he understood and held onto each and every word you just said to him.

The others remained silent as they all observed the touching scene with smiles on their faces, already feeling the positive vibes circulating in the air. All of them knew that it was gonna be a good year for them.

Even Jack had tears in his eyes, seeing that you managed to spread that PMA he always talked so passionately about…

In the best possible way.

-

Previous Summary -

Sooooo yep!! That’s it! That’s the end of this lovely mini-series, lovelies~!! I hoped you all enjoyed it. I surely enjoyed writing this~

Just remember to keep a

[caz-pilates-blog]

PART TWO • My Story

Cocoon - Teen Years

You have BRAINS in your HEAD you have FEET in your SHOES. You can STEER yourself any DIRECTION you

CHOOSE - Dr. Seuss

At the insecure, tender, vulnerable, unsure and bloody awkward age of 15, one of my school friends committed suicide. She wasn’t in my close-knit circle. She was a new friend whom I had just barely got to know. We met when I was having one of those days at the school locker. “Dammit!” I said to myself. “what’s wrong?” she asked genuinely. “I forgot my food container and now I’ll get detention for not being prepared for food tech class”. She smiled calmly and caringly offered her red food container for me to use. “Just give it back next time, no worries at all!”. Totally saved my arse. You know that beautiful feeling when you know this connection was about to grow into a long-term friendship. That same month, I remember walking down the school corridor wondering why every single teacher was in the library. It was unheard of to be unsupervised. All the teachers looked completely grey in the face. Some were crying, holding tissues. The entire energy of the school changed in an instant. The toxic combination of silence and anxiety all wrapped in a bow of rumours already spreading the corridors.

“I heard a girl in our year level killed herself”, “it was Josie” “no I heard it was Lisa” “I wonder what’s going on” “maybe there was some kind of accident” The inner wishful thinker inside me thought ‘maybe all these rumours are bullshit’. It was then that I started to look around my peers… asking myself a question no fifteen-year-old should ask themselves, who was missing.

We were all gathered into the assembly. The tragic news was broken to us. In an instant a wave of confusion

and pure shock drowned all 200 of us teenagers. To really twist the knife of grief into us, it was the last day of term. Meaning we were meant to just handle this shit and see everyone next term.

They sent us home with bullshit pamphlets on “what your child may experience”. Reading these pamphlets at my age was a trauma in itself.

“Such symptoms may include, but not limited to the following;

1. Repeated visions of the incident they have not witnessed

2. The desire to copy and re-enact the act

3. Panic attacks

4. Depression

5. Self-isolation from friends and peers”

I was confused, scared and experiencing all of the above before I even got to my front door.

I ran home from school crying into my mother’s arms and she whispered, “I thought it was you!” (referring to

the radio news report of the incident).

I suffered severe Post Traumatic Stress twice daily after the tragedy. I endured exhausting panic attacks every single time I was on a train twice daily for over 10 years.

Our School Principal at the time, declined students to have a mural at the college honouring her life.

I had flashbacks running through my mind on replay of the incident that I never saw. I had the primal urge to

recreate the incident myself. There were days I couldn’t get out of my bed and believed with every cell in me

body that my bedroom in my family home was a complete waste of space.

I began to self-harm to relieve my pain and isolated myself from my beautiful school friends. In dealing with

these dark emotions as a fifteen-year-old kid, I got involved with a questionable group of peers whom I met on the steps of Flinders Street Station. It was this

point in my life that I began abusing food and alcohol and cigarettes. I was prescribed high doses of medication for depression and anxiety and saw a therapist weekly to discuss my suicidal urges. My mother was beside herself.

My lowest point in my life was when I was saying goodnight to my mum and I told her I hoped that I didn’t wake up the next morning. I was numb, I was empty, I felt like I was already dead.

New Years eve of 2003 was the climactic end to the spiral my life was going down. I was attending a NYE party

one of my new peers was hosting.

Her older brother went for a walk with me around the streets to get some air because he could see I was an

emotional kid. As we were walking, we could hear his girlfriend yelling out foul verbal abuse toward me.

“Where is the little Sl*t!” I was so scared and the big brother suddenly and conveniently nowhere to be found.

I was left standing in the street in the pitch black of night with an angry, butch, scary looking animal running

toward me. She punched me in my stomach, and I fell to the ground. She continued to kick me nonstop as I collapsed to the concrete ground up against a neighbour’s fence. I felt

helpless and scared and so alone. Yet at the same time I was so angry, so I was not afraid to be a little cheeky

when she asked if I needed help getting up. “Now you want to help me????”

I ran into a strangers’ front yard bush to hide and called my Dad. My Dad picked me up and held my hand the whole drive home.

Weeks after the attack, I couldn’t go outside of my house alone.

Looking back, the horrific attack was the best thing that happened because I never spoke a single word to any

of those peers again.

My incredible school friends welcomed me with open arms. One of my closest school

friends in particular, made a huge impact on my recovery by handing me the book “Oh the Places You’ll Go” by Dr. Seuss. This book opened up my eyes to what opportunities are out there awaiting my future. That I can go anywhere I choose.

Thank you, Cassie, you literally, without a doubt saved my life.

Reflecting on these tough times now, I can see what lead me to alcohol and food abuse. I used to even hide

food in my bedroom and eat it privately. It seems silly now to think how shocked I was when I realized how

overweight and unhealthy I became.

[newmania]

Ok so check it out I'm incredibly inspired rn and I'm having an extremely rare moment of clarity while I'm not at all feeling depressed so I wanna document this moment and this feeling and these realizations as much as possible without giving away my real plans or ideas. It's crazy to me cuz I know (and have known for 10 years now) exactly what I wanna do with my existence on this planet but I let fear and insecurity keep me from being my truest happiest realest self. And I'm not at all sure how to overcome that. But I think I have a responsibility to either seriously pursue my happiness and my truth and my story the way I see it, or just fucking die. Finally just fucking die. Cuz it's very very clear to me that I only have those 2 options and trying to find a middle path in between those is foolish cuz my heart and my soul know what I want. The reality that I'm currently living in is practically unbearable 2/4 me and the ONLY way 2 survive is 2 completely change my situation or die. TBH I've been wanting to die so long but one thing one idea one concept keeps me alive beyond what I want and it sucks. It's torture. But a lot of it is my own fault. And I think that's something huge that never stops bothering me a lot of the things that I hate the most about life and myself are my own fault! And that only makes the self hating spiral worse. It's so frustrating to wanna be this great amazing incredible person but you never feel like that person and you look at everyone around you and you feel they're so much better than you or at least have SOMETHING that you want and you don't have cuz you yourself aren't good enough in some way shape or form wether it be confidence or women or whatever knowing of ones self idk at this point I'm just ranting about existing but the whole point is, I have unfinished business that this year i plan to really venture into. As a matter of fact I'll call it a New Years resolution. I either say fuck everything (which I already have) and begin and create and start making real steps in the right direction for me or I fucking die and put all this bullshit behind me and never have to worry about this shit again. So honestly 2017 will be good either way because I CAN NOT AND WILL NOT continue what I've been fucking doing. That ends NOW. I'm pathetic and I know it and I can't allow it to continue. So if I die be it awesome the sooner the better. But if I don't... so be it. I have work to do.... I'm just saying all this to document this moment cuz this is me making a promise to myself.. this hopefully one way or another. Will be the end. The last year things are like THIS things are THIS bad and only getting worse with no signs of improvement. Just hopelessly falling down a fucking never ending cliff screaming unable to do anything to help myself. This year I'll either grab a fucking rock and start my climb back up, or lord willing I finally hit the fucking floor. But SOMETHING is gonna happen cuz I am so fucking TIRED of falling and losing nonstop for YEARS. This is the beginning of the end. That's a promise.