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blackenedwhite97 · 3 years

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Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-�� your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

#polyerasermic #eraserhead #erasermic #erasermic x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #present mic x aizawa #eraserhead x reader x present mic #eraserhead x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #myhero #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha fanfiction #y/n x mha #y/n x bnha

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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Misread Details: Robert

CW: Dehumanizing language, BBU blanket warning, serial killer/death talk, descriptions of death/abduction/murder, blood, whumper death, some real vague implied noncon references, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Dark Discovery in Robert Weber’s Basement: Box Boy Killer, Part 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

3 days ago

After Part One, where we learned about the mysterious, but possibly entirely natural, death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, and Part Two, where we saw Henry “Brute” Hanlon’s double life lead to his untimely gruesome murder, you see the single thread that connects these two men who otherwise never met, interacted, or even shared a single person in common… a nameless Box Boy, present at the death of Nanda even if he isn’t responsible for it, and the proven killer of Brute.

It’s my theory that this Box Boy may have accidentally killed his legal owner, Nanda, and then picked up a taste for the act and moved on to taking shelter with those he turns into his victims.

With Brute, he simply didn’t know the man had a wife and children and entire other life, and may have assumed no one would come looking for him or recognize his death. With our third individual, Robert Weber, it seems like our Box Boy Serial Killer got in over his head.

I give you… the Accidental Vigilante death of Robert Weber.

You decide if our unknown killer is simply the unluckiest guy in the world or a killer who even now may be somewhere living with - and earning the trust of - his next victim.

One bright and sunny day in the quaint, old-fashioned California town of Rancher’s Rest, Robert Weber was late for work.

Weber worked in a vehicle repair business owned by lifelong “RR” resident Randy Niles, who had known Weber since his childhood and had been his boss since Weber was eighteen years old and fresh out of high school.

Niles, who is now nearly seventy-five and still spends his days in the shop with an Australian Shepherd named Cody and a blind pit bull named Sue keeping him company everywhere he goes, stated that Weber had no living family he knew of beyond his sister in Vermont, and he was just about the closest thing Weber had to a relative just from having known him so long.

“He didn’t have too much to do with his sister,” Randy said in an interview with Unsolved Mysteries. (You can see the interview on the new Netflix reboot of the show! It’s a really good episode, definitely recommend. It’s how I got into this case in the first place.) “Or nobody, really. Just us at work, the guys at the bar, that kinda thing. He was quiet, kept to himself really. You’d never just strike up a chat around town or anything. But he got on just fine with the boys here in the shop. He was a bit of an egghead, too, always going on about this thing or that he’d seen on the news. Little… odd. Little bit off, you might say. But really, who isn’t? In any case, you know, I’d known him since he was a little boy, so he was just Bobby Weber to me.”

Then, of course, one day Robert Weber didn’t show up to work. Randy Niles immediately felt that something was very wrong.

“When nine, nine-thirty came and went and he wasn’t there,” Niles said, “I knew someone needed to go check on him. Bobby showed up for work right on time or ten minutes early, rain or shine, for twenty years. My first thought was maybe he’d had an accident at home, or some kind of, you know, health thing. Almost never called in sick, took one vacation a year, that kinda thing. So I drove right on over there. This would’ve been, oh, probably ten or ten-fifteen when I got to the house. Had my dogs with me, and they never did like Bobby much, but as soon as I opened my door and got out of my truck they just lost their damn minds. Barking, growling, Cody’s hackles were up like you wouldn’t believe. I know it sounds damn crazy, but I’m sure those dogs could smell that evil had been done in that house.”

On camera, Niles goes quiet, here, his gaze slipping away from the interviewer as he scratches at the side of his nose. When he looks back, the hint of good humor that seems to be an eternal part of his expression is gone.

“I didn’t know what Bobby had been up to all this time. None of us knew. I’ve known Bobby Weber his whole life, and I… I had no idea.”

Randy Niles was unable to convince his two dogs to exit the truck, and eventually rolled down the windows to give them some air and a way out if they chose (he is insistent on this point in the Unsolved Mysteries episode - “don’t you dare say I left my dogs locked up in a truck on a sunny day, I sure didn’t - Cody even knows how to pull a door handle if it’s the right kind”) and got out to knock on Robert Weber’s front door.

No one answered.

Niles knocked again. Still no response.

The front door was locked, but Niles was able to locate an unlocked back door into the garage, where he found Weber’s car neatly parked and nothing out of place. However, once he used an interior door in the garage to enter Weber’s home, what he found was so shocking he still struggles to describe it today.

“The, uh. The first thing I saw,” Niles says in the Unsolved Mysteries episode, wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, “was a cage. Big old cage in the living room. Like a kennel for a big dog, Great Dane or something, except… except, you know, kennels’re usually mostly wire, not that heavy. You can fold ‘em up, put ‘em away. This was… geez. This was pure metal. Bunch of blankets all piled at the bottom, too. Here’s the-... you know, my mind just didn’t want to even make the thought, but I just, I looked at it and-”

In the episode, Niles has to take another moment, here. His eyes grow wet, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “People cage. Bobby had a damn man-sized cage in his living room. That’s when my stomach just fell out. Even then, though, I couldn’t-... I just thought, oh, well, what people get up to in their own homes is their business. But still, I just. I just decided, find Bobby, figure the rest out later. So I kept walking around looking for him.”

Randy Niles continued to call out, hoping to hear Weber’s response, but received none… at first. The radio in the kitchen was playing a local public radio station (“Bobby always hated the country western and classic rock we played at work, he was a big news man, big into classical, jazz, you know.”)

Niles noticed, he says, that the cage next to the couch had a wooden top, as though it were meant to act as a side table, and on that table was a small woven basket. Inside the basket appeared to be several State IDs and Driver’s licenses. Niles took note of this but his first assumption was maybe that Robert Weber had stolen some IDs or something.

Which was technically true, just… not quite the way he thought.

The kitchen, hallway, and all three bedrooms were equally empty of life. Every room was clean, everything neatly in place. Empty bottles of Jameson whiskey, Weber’s favorite brand, were lined up like décor along the mantel, and one half-full bottle was next to two clean, empty glasses on the kitchen table.

Even the beds were perfectly made.

The only thing missing was any sign of Robert Weber himself.

The question of Weber’s whereabouts was answered when Randy Niles heard a sound coming from the open door to Weber’s unfinished dirt basement.

“Like a ghost,” Niles said in his interview. “Just this low moaning sound. Hardly even thought of it as human, you know. But I just-... I called out, ‘Bobby? That you?’ and the moaning got a little louder, like whoever it was was tryin’ to answer. I could still hear my girls in the truck just going nuts, probably worried about me knowing what they maybe could smell even out there. I figured… I figured I’d best call the cops and get them out here. Seemed like a plan. So I picked up my phone and dialed, and then I headed down those basement steps.”

What Randy Niles discovered in Robert Weber’s basement was a dying man, battered and stabbed eight times, lying in a half-dug grave.

Robert Weber had been beaten with the very shovel that had done the digging. The shovel lay off to the side, caked in dirt and blood. Police would find some of Robert Weber’s hair on it, too. Then, the individual who had beaten him had gone back upstairs - blood smears were found on the railing to the stairs - and taken a kitchen knife out of the knife block on the countertop. A bloody fingerprint was found on the side of the knife block. They had then returned to the basement where Weber was stabbed, almost entirely through the stomach and chest, twenty-six times, until the cheap knife simply broke from the force.

Randy Niles admitted in his interview that he became very ill at this time. “From the shock,” He elaborated. “I haven’t been able to smell much since I was in a car wreck when I was young, so I didn’t smell what-... what my girls prob’ly smelled from outside, and what the cops smelled. To me, it was just… just a little off, is all. It was the sight of it that got to me, not the smell. The sight of the-... the hand.”

Behind Robert Weber’s body, the hand of another person was sticking up out of the loose dirt, as though someone was trying to dig their way out.

“I remember… I remember her nail polish was pink. That’s when I got sick, actually, was when I saw that hand with the painted nails. That’s when it just hit me all at once what Bobby had done.”

Randy Niles went back up the stairs and waited for the cops to arrive. Rancher’s Rest is a small town where everybody knows just about everybody else, and Niles was on a first-name basis with every single police officer he spoke to that day and in the days after. He would learn alongside the investigation that Robert Weber was not simply the quiet, intellectual car mechanic he had always seemed.

Instead, Robert Weber was a serial killer whose potential final victim had managed a miraculous, deadly escape.

Robert Weber never answered a single question about his own murder - he never fully regained consciousness and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. His injuries were simply too severe. His autopsy showed that the cause of death was a stab wound that went deep into his chest and that he was first stabbed only after the beating with the shovel had taken place. Like Brute, most of his stab wounds were applied post-mortem in a rage rather than as part of the killing itself.

Medical examiners also found scratches on Weber’s face and arms, indicating that he had attempted to defend himself - or someone else had attempted to defend themself from him.

So why was Robert Weber killed, and why was there already a body in his basement? Investigators would piece together the story over the following days and weeks from a crime scene that only seemed to become darker and more baffling as time went on.

Excavating the basement was originally thought to be something that would be brief, but after the first body was removed, another one was found beneath it. Then another off to the side of that. And another, although this was simply bones.

Every time the forensics team thought they’d found the last human bone, they dug a little deeper or in a new spot and found more.

Eventually, the remains of twenty-two individuals would be removed from the basement of Robert Weber’s home, not including Weber himself. The oldest located victim was identified as Melinda Traxson, an Iowa woman reported missing by her family after she ran away in March of 1996… more than two decades before Robert Weber didn’t come to work one day.

Investigators are still working to match up every body with a missing persons’ case. For nearly all of them, the cause of death could not be easily ascertained due to the deterioration of the remains, but some showed signs of skull fractures. Identified individuals so far include:

Melinda Traxson, 19, from Iowa, ran away from home in 1996.

Billie Mortimer, 21, disappeared from a day out with friends at Lake Tahoe one year later in the summer of 1997. Her friends went to get lunch from the car after a swim and when they returned, she was gone.

Matthew Ranger, 22, went missing during a road trip to Yellowstone National Park in 1997 (only five months after Billie). His car was found abandoned by the side of the road with a flat tire.

Karl Janssen, 24, a tourist from the Netherlands who was also visiting Yellowstone, disappeared a month after Matthew. Last seen by an employee of the park who witnessed him speaking with another young man and getting into the man’s car. The employee said that the two seemed to be friendly with one another and did not seem like strangers.

Hannah Pointer, 26. She was reported missing in 1999 by her mother after failing to return home from work in Reno, Nevada. This disappearance occurred more than a year after Karl Janssen’s. Investigators would later discover that during this time period, Robert Weber dated a young woman from his hometown and he may not have wanted to risk her finding out what he was doing.

Isaac Jackson, 26, a Rancher’s Rest resident who disappeared after going out to a local bar to see his friend’s band play in 2000. His car was found submerged in a small pond two years later. This is the first time Weber apparently killed anyone close to home. He was actually briefly suspected in Jackson’s death, as he was the last person noted to see Jackson alive, but was cleared of suspicion at the time.

Dustin Swill, 21, who was driving from Colorado to California to visit his sister who had moved to Berras to work for WRU in 2001. He was last seen in a gas station near Yellowstone, where employees noted he spoke to a man who was smoking outside, who gave him a cigarette. When Swill left, employees saw the man put out his cigarette and leave shortly after. They did not find this unusual or noteworthy at the time.

Maria Vargas, 25, a Rancher’s Rest resident who was reported missing in 2002. Her family is intensely private and have shared few details about her, but it is known that her boyfriend at the time suspected Weber, who had attempted to convince her to leave the boyfriend for him and had apparently threatened her. He remained a suspect but there was never enough evidence to charge him.

Jennifer Striker, 28, from who never arrived for an appointment with a realtor in 2011. The long pause between Maria Vargas’s murder and Jennifer’s appeared to be due to Weber keeping a man named Finn Schneider within his home for more than a year after abducting him, as well as Weber serving five years in prison for a violent assault on a man he believed had sold him a defective vehicle. (Schneider was no longer in the home before the assault and prison time.)

Riley Nievelt, 25, was staying at the Big Meadow Campground with six friends during a weeklong vacation in 2012. She vanished while on a trip to purchase supplies. Her cell phone was found on the ground in the parking lot of the Food Lion in Rancher’s Rest, a short and easy drive away. At this time, with multiple individuals vanishing after being seen in Rancher’s Rest or being residents of the town, police begin to suspect and start hunting for a possible serial killer.

Alexander Peterson, 29, was a long-haul driver who vanished while working. He was last seen at a rest stop in 2014 on the California/Nevada state line, and would likely have passed right through Rancher’s Rest on his journey. He was reported missing by his ex-wife in South Dakota when he did not return as scheduled for a custodial visit.

The most recent victim, and owner of the hand that Randy Niles saw sticking up out of the dirt, was Yolanda Pierce, 26. She was a Rancher’s Rest resident with a troubled relationship with her husband, who had stormed out after an argument and was never seen again. She is believed to have died the same day as Robert Weber.

More remains exist but have not yet been identified. If you or anyone you know has a friend or family member who went missing during this time period in or near Rancher’s Rest, Yellowstone National Park, or Death Valley, it may be worth looking into, as those appear to be Robert Weber’s “hunting grounds”.

Disappearances in Yellowstone and Death Valley almost always matched up with Robert taking one of his rare weeklong vacations from work.

When investigators located three large diaries hidden inside a locked box in Weber’s closet, the first two fully filled up and the third nearly two-thirds finished, they found an exhaustively detailed record of Robert Weber’s crimes.

In these records, they discovered Weber’s first three victims were killed within 24 hours of abduction, with the rest being kept alive for longer and longer time periods. It is believed all of them met their end in Robert Weber’s basement.

Diary entries included records of two victims who were not a part of the bodies buried in Weber’s basement, both of whom may still be alive:

Finn Schneider, 19, a German tourist who disappeared in 2003 during a visit to Death Valley. Until Weber’s journals were found, it was believed he had perished in the park and had simply never been found. Robert Weber also visited Death Valley during this time. No one linked the two together. Evidence found in Weber’s home after his death, including the aforementioned diary entries and photographs, shows that Schneider was alive in Weber’s home for nearly sixteen months. It is believed Weber purchased the “human cage” that Randy Niles noticed around this time. The last diary entry that mentions Schneider states that he was “traded” on June 16th, 2005, to an individual only referred to as “Mouse.” What Weber received in exchange is unclear, but he was seen driving a new, custom-painted truck around this time, which he said he bought “from a personal ad” when asked by Niles about it. Schneider has never been found. However, his mother did receive a phone call in 2013 from an individual she believes to be her son, telling her that “Finn” was okay and to stop looking for him.

Our Box Boy, 334235, purchased by Nathaniel Benson years prior, whose whereabouts had been unknown since he murdered Brute Hanlon. Weber believed the Box Boy to be in his early twenties, according to his diary entries, and mentioned that he had picked the Boxie up hitchhiking and had intended to kill him before seeing the barcode on the inside of his left wrist and changing his mind. His diary suggests the Box Boy remained in his possession for roughly a fourteen months prior to Weber’s murder. Police have not released the details of what the Boxie was subjected to during this time, stating only that it is not the public’s interest for this information to be known, and they would like to locate the missing Boxie and interview him about certain details.

Four murders occurred during the time the Boxie was kept by Robert Weber. Weber noted that “the dog helped” with either murder or burial, suggesting that he may have worked as Weber’s accomplice in his terrible crimes.

Is it possible that they bonded over a shared urge to kill? Did the Boxie start a captive and become a companion?

Weber’s diary contained other disturbing facts, as well:

Weber also noted three failed abduction attempts in detail, in 1998, 2004, and 2017. In each he described with incredible precision of memory the appearances and descriptions of each person he failed to capture. He also appeared to do intensive research using their license plates and other information to find out where they lived and who they were. The names of these individuals have been kept quiet for privacy reasons.

Other failed abductions were noted, about one per year, without much detail. Or at least not enough for police officers to know who they were. Nearly all these failures were in one of three locations: Yellowstone National Park, Stanislaus National Forest and nearby campgrounds, and in or near Death Valley.

The last entry in Robert Weber’s diary was penned the day of his death.

NOTE: Weber referred to the Boxie as “the dog” in nearly all his journal entries. His last entry went:

May 6th, 20XX: The dog is pissed about something again. He’s always pissed about something. I think the thing in the basement probably kept him up all night with her caterwauling. He never gets used to the noises they make. God knows I can’t sleep either, at least not well. I’ll handle her tonight, have a drink with the dog after, see if that shuts up his nonsense for a while. Note: missed NPR interview with Senator Carlotta Grant on new leg. about the bb prohibition act. Find that on website later.

Found in Weber’s home, in boxes under his bed, were a series of restraints made of leather, high-quality items that appear to be custom-ordered to specific measurements. These included “gloves” intended to keep someone from being able to claw or scratch in their own defense, five sets of cuffs, a body harness, a leather half-face-mask that police referred to as a “muzzle”, several gags, some of which were deemed to be “designed to cause injury to the inside of the mouth”, and “other assorted items for use in torture and torment”.

You can find some leaked police docs online that go into more detail, but suffice to say they pretty much match the kinds of “toys” found in Nathaniel Benson and Brute Hanlon’s homes, too. And apparently, if you really know where to look, you can find some blurry low-quality photos Weber took, too.

While the items are a bit salacious, they aren’t entirely uncommon in consensual relationships, too, so it’s really not clear if they’re evidence of the Boxie being held against his will or not.

The investigation of the crime scene suggests that at some point after writing his final diary entry, Robert Weber made himself a pizza, which he ate half of and put the rest away in the fridge. His shaving cream and razor were found out on his sink, and Weber’s body was clean-shaven, suggesting he shaved shortly before his death.

He then watched three episodes of Law & Order: SVU. We know this because he texted during this time with his only living relative, the sister in Vermont. Little is known about Weber’s family and childhood, beyond his sister’s recounting of a quiet, strained home life with an overbearing mother and her mention that Robert endured several head injuries as a child and adolescent, including one that hospitalized him for days.

After he finished watching TV, Weber entered the basement and murdered Yolanda Pierce. It is believed he took the Box Boy downstairs with him, either as accomplice or witness. At some point while he was disposing of Yolanda Pierce’s remains, the Boxie became enraged for one reason or another, beat him with a shovel, got the kitchen knife from upstairs and stabbed him to death, and then left the house.

A neighbor remembers hearing odd noises around 3:30 AM and looking out their window to see a shadowy figure walking quickly down the road, but they weren’t able to see well enough to say whether or not the individual matches the description and WRU-provided photos of the Boxie. It does seem reasonable, though, to assume that the neighbor witnessed the Boxie fleeing the scene of the crime.

The Box Boy has never been seen again.

Police are pretty mum about the active investigation into the Box Boy’s whereabouts. I was able to get ahold of one source closely related to a member of the investigative team who said that there’s just not a lot of urgency. “Weber killed nearly two dozen people, just that we know of,” The source said. “The cops are a little bit ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ about the situation. Unless the Boxie comes back to RR, they’re just inclined to let sleeping dogs lie.”

The sense of “let it be someone else’s problem” would be understandable… if this Box Boy weren’t responsible for one other direct murder, possibly two.

Police believe the Boxie has not left California, and is likely to be continuing to survive by engaging in prostitution or perhaps panhandling or some other hidden way of making money. Unconfirmed sightings have been located in three cities in central California, but all of these are unverified and should be taken with a grain of salt.

It’s also possible he hooked up with a pet liberation movement group, in which case he may be hiding out in a safehouse, protected from the consequences of his actions by the pet lib movement’s understandable insistence on total secrecy and anonymity for the Boxies they take in.

If he’s an innocent victim of circumstance, that’s fair.

If he’s a burgeoning serial killer with three victims under his belt and a taste for inflicting terrible violence on those who take him in… well… anyone who gives him shelter may be next.

Is our Boxie a purposeful killer or just supremely, almost incomprehensibly unlucky? Will he kill again? Was he Robert Weber’s accomplice or his victim?

Will he strike again?

Should there be an audit of WRU’s psychological testing on potential sign-ups to see if, perhaps, a Box Boy-wannabe with an urge to kill slipped through the cracks?

What do you think?

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary

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shuahoonie · 3 years

Text

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right?

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k!

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday.

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love.

gif credits: @underoos-shield

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Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging.

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle.

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest.

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway.

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted.

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.”

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019.

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.”

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone.

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you.

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place.

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started.

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly.

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.”

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious.

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him.

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly.

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.”

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.”

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?”

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it.

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?”

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on.

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long.

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.”

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend.

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her.

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped.

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.”

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.”

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush.

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks.

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation.

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—”

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this.

So—what really happened with you and Tom?

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA!

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head.

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex.

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no? Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol.

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes.

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously.

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state.

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were.

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too.

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price.

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed.

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt.

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.”

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.”

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.”

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob.

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger.

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.”

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half.

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that.

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom.

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out.

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.”

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it.

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera.

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror.

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.”

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend.

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame.

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.”

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open.

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door.

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime.

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly.

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred.

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.”

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.”

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still!

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom.

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close.

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.”

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over.

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on.

“Tom—”

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—”

“Tom, listen to me.”

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes.

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?”

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.”

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.”

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.”

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables.

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out.

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings.

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door.

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.”

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.”

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.”

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude.

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along.

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.”

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.”

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.”

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.”

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up.

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight.

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.”

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail.

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee.

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee.

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you.

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands.

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question.

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.”

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?”

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless.

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him.

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe.

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter.

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.”

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.”

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe.

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin.

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day.

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone.

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used.

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?”

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it.

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime.

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you.

“Well, he hates—”

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth.

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point.

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?”

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed.

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house.

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later.

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously.

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.”

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part.

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up.

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face.

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug.

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t.

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates.

Tom was confused.

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.”

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately.

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh.

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily.

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big.

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it.

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well.

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with.

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.”

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.”

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about.

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve.

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly.

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask,

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom.

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you.

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers.

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas.

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning.

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly.

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud.

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.”

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself.

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night.

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures.

“How did that even—”

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face.

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish.

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x you #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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lovebillyhargrove · 3 years

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Okay, so a discussion with @disdaidal kinda got me thinking about something and I can't stay quiet. When i first understood that this beautiful rat boy is a part of my life now (no less😂😂), i kinda went with the general vibe "let's not excuse Billy's awful behaviour". Then i saw a post (sorry, don't remember who wrote it and can't find it again to give credit!!) "Billy's a teenager. What do you expect him to be, A RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE????" and yeah .. what do we expect a broken teenage boy to be????

So, a list of bad things that boy did/ALMOST did

1. Billy was a dick to max. He was. Usually elder siblings are, especially elder brothers! Not to forget the fact, that there is unspoken history between them (the reason why they had to move to hawkins) that didn't add love to their relationship?

Still, despite being a dick, billy drove max around, picked her up, and generally cared for her (we're family now) in his angry way? Of course he was not happy about her friendship with lucas, NOT because lucas was black! But because lucas happened to be a teenage boy who was hitting on his little sister !!!! Elder brothers actually protect their little sisters, instinctively dislike/hate their first boyfriends, even get into fights with said boyfriends. Not to mention NEIL, and billy knows his father better than anyone

Well, max isn't a ray of sunshine herself. Flipping billy off, constantly mouthing him off, lying to him, running off with a boy (from her bedroom window (no less) on Billy's watch), always being angry to billy herself, sticking a syringe in his neck with god-knows-what, ALMOST hitting the guy's nuts with a baseball bat and establishing dominance (SAY IT). Dear max, it wasn't billy's greatest wish to always control your whereabouts, it was your parents who made him do so !!!!!!! Could he say NO to Neil????

Have you SEEN Neil????? Did you, Max, hear the shouts, or see the bruises or see Billy's tears, maybe???

2. Billy almost ran the kids over. ALMOST being the key word. Yes, that's not good. He lashed out as a follow up to their heated conversation with max (more to that mysterious mystery of WHY they moved to hawkins). But he didn't run them over. And he WOULDN'T. What is he, stupid?????? I don't think so.

3. Billy beat up Steve. Well, this is a good one. First, max goes running off (from her bedroom window, no less!!!😂) on Billy's watch. Billy gets a handful from neil. Billy finds his 13year old sister in an unknown shady house full of boys and Steve LIES to his face about Max's whereabouts??? What was billy supposed to do???? "My bad, man, just bring her back home later after you're done, 'kay????" OF COURSE, billy picked up a fight, he is a teenager with issues! And steve fought him back. Now, is Dustin's yelling "kill him, steve, kill him!!!" OKAY???????? Is it NICE??????

What else did our bad boy do there?? .. our bad teenage boy, angry, confused, unhappy, abandoned by his mom, abused by his dad..???? Yeah,

4. He shoved Lucas into some bookcase or a cupboard. Ended up being kicked in the balls by Lucas. So terrible, OMFG 😱

My point is, yeah we shouldn't excuse Billy's behaviour. Or no, actually, we shouldn't phrase it like that. We should understand his behaviour and help him because the angry confused broken abandoned and abused teenage fucking boy needs HELP. He doesn't need to be thrown in the hands of the mindflayer just to get killed off later. Fuck you again, duffers, just fuck you forever for doing what you did. Way to send a message!!!!

#billy hargrove #billy x max #billy x steve #billy x neil #billy my baby

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 8

So some of the details I’m getting are coming from the Teen Wolf novel On Fire that was published in 2012. It basically gave backstory into some of the characters that we never really see in the show. Like is describes Scott’s father and describes him having an asthma attack. I really recommend it. You can find it online for under 10$ so it’s worth it.

TW: Mentions of S*xual Abuse

————

After the game ended, everyone else was celebrating. Beacon Hills lacrosse had qualified for the state championships. I played along until I was able to slip away back into the school, seeing as Scott was doing damage control with Allison and Jackson. The players and Coach were long gone, I slipped into the locker room door just as it was closing.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Stiles’ phone, and to my amazement I heard Stiles' ringtone echoing in the dark.

“Oh thank god.” I sighed in relief, following the ringing, “I was so worried about-” I stopped, the phone slipping from my hands. There Peter stood with Stiles’ arm in his grip. Derek stood in the shadows behind him.

“Now who is this little thing, nephew?” Peter tilted his head to the side. His face had been healed completely of burns, nothing remained.

Derek kept his stern expression, not meeting my eyes, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

Peter hummed, “Really? I haven’t seen you since you were about yea high.” He placed his hand at his chest.

“Let him go.” I glared at him, not fooling around with his pleasantries. He dropped Stiles' arm.

“Certainly, at the lady’s request.” He grinned. Without breaking eye contact, I reached forward and grabbed Stiles arm, pulling him behind me. He struggled a little.

“Now is not the time to be the man, get behind me now.” He complied.

“What the hell…?” I heard Scott’s voice ring through the empty locker room.

“Scott, no-” I was cut off by Scott walking around the corner of the dark hall, a towel around his waist. His eyes landed on Derek.

“Thank God! Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what’s been going on?” Our eyes darted towards Peter, and he finally saw him.

Peter had picked up a crosse, looking over it in his hands, “I really don’t get lacrosse…”

Scott gasped, “It was you.”

“When I was in high school, we played basketball. There’s a real sport. Still, I read somewhere that lacrosse comes from Native American tribes, and that they played it to resolve conflict. Do I have that right?” No one answered, “Hmm… I have a little conflict of my own to resolve, Scott… But I need your help to do it.”

“I’m not helping you kill people.” Scott said firmly.

“Well, I don’t want to kill all of them– just the responsible ones. And that doesn’t have to include…” He looked back towards Derek.

Derek sighed, “Allison.”

“You’re on his side? Are you forgetting the part where he killed your sister?” Scott asked, incredulously. Took the words right out of my mouth.

“It was a mistake…” He said the words, but I wasn’t sure if he even thought they were true.

“What?” Scott asked, clearly shocked.

“It happens…” Derek looked away.

“Just a werewolf thing, right?” I glared at him, he continued to find the floor more interesting.

“I think you’re getting the wrong impression of us. We just really want to help you reach your full potential.” Peter set the crosse down.

Scott scoffed, “By killing my friends?”

“Sometimes the people closest to you can be the ones holding you back the most.” He glanced towards Stiles and I.

“If they’re holding me back from becoming a psychotic nut-job like you, I’m okay with that.”

“Maybe” He walked up to Scott, I backed away with Stiles, “You could try and see things from my perspective…” He sunk his claws into the back of Scott’s neck. Scott groaned, and fell when Peter pulled his claws out. The alpha looked at me, wiping the blood off on his jeans.

“You have potential as well. Mark my words, in the next few days you may realize there is more to you, (Y/N).”

“I’d rather die.” I spat. Stiles grabbed my arm.

“I guess we’ll just have to see.” Peter nodded to me, then walked out with Derek following behind.

“Laura would be disgusted.” I glared at him. He paused, looking over his shoulder for a second, but continued on his path out the door. Once they were gone, Stiles pulled Scott by the shoulders and turned on the cold water. He gasped, breathing heavily.

“Dude, we have a huge problem.” Stiles said.

“Trust me… I know.”

After a confrontation with Jackson, Stiles and I drove home. There we found Uncle Noah at the kitchen table. There were papers and files spread all over and a bottle of whisky with a glass.

“Whatcha doing?” Stiles asked.

“Work.” He slurred.

“Anything we can help with?” He asked, so we came around the table to sit across from him. I looked at a paper. It was a report of the interview with Mr. Harris.

“You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that would be awfully nice.” Uncle Noah closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. I took the time to take a picture of the statement, hiding my phone back in my pocket before he opened his eyes again.

“Any leads?” Stiles asked, pouring the whiskey.

“You know I can’t discuss that with you.” Stiles poured more into the glass, “Not too much!”

Stiles slid the cup across the table, “Okay. There you go, Dad.”

“Thanks.”

“Bottoms up.” Stiles said, as we watched Uncle Noah down the whiskey.

“You know, Derek Hale would be a whole hale of a lot-” He slurred and grunted, “Hale of a lot…?”

“Hell of a lot?” Stiles corrected him

“Hell… Yes… He would be a hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him.”

“How do you not have a picture of him?”

“It’s the weirdest thing…” He slurred, “It’s like every time we tried to get a mugshot, it’s like two laser-beams were pointing at the camera.”

“Nice.”

“Oh, my God… Ohhh! God, that ounce hit me like a brick. And I have said way too much, and if you repeat any of that-” He warned, pointing to both of us.

“Dad, it’s us! We’re not gonna say anything. Come on!”

“See, the thing is, they’re all connected… I mean, the bus driver that got killed? He was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale House Fire.” He pointed towards a paper.

“Terminated under suspicion of fraud.” Stiles read.

“Exactly.”

“Who else?”

“The video store clerk who got his throat slashed? He’s a convicted felon– history of arson.” That was the attack that involved Jackson and Lydia.

“What about the other two guys, the guys who got killed in the woods?” The two guys that Stiles saw in the woods when he got drunk with Scott.

“Priors all over their records, including-”

“Arson. So, maybe they all had something to do with the fire…” Uncle Noah grumbled. Stiles wanted more info, “Another shot?”

“No, no, no. No more.” he slurred.

“Dad, come on! You work really hard, all right? You deserve it.” It was enabling and wrong to get the sheriff drunk to get information out of him. The dots were all starting to connect.

“Oh, my God… I’m gonna have such a hangover…”

“You mean you’re gonna have such a good night’s sleep!” He poured another shot for his dad. He looked at me, muttering out of the side of his mouth, “I’m gonna have an eternity in the lowest circle of hell…” I patted Stiles' arm.

“Let me know if he says anything else.” I whispered and came around the table, “Goodnight Uncle Noah.”

“Goodnight, sweetie.” He called.

I went into my room and connected my phone to my laptop so I could get a better look at the report. Stealing evidence was a crime, but I was already doing enough illegal things that I figured it would matter too much. I pulled up the picture and enhanced it the best I could. It was a transcription from Uncle Noah’s recorder.

𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸'𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛.

𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚗'𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜, 𝚑𝚞𝚑?

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛. 𝚆𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎? 𝚃𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚢…𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛…

𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜.

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚟𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛.

𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗?

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.

𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎? 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚛.

𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚂𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖?

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙽𝚘. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. [𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 #𝟸0𝟺]

𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝.

𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃

I didn’t need to see the evidence to know what the symbol was. It was the Argent family crest and Kate Argent is the one that burned down Derek’s house. She’s the one that murdered the Hale’s. That’s why she was a touchy subject to him. But there was something else too.

The next day I was out shopping when I saw her. Kate Argent was in the sporting goods department, looking at arrows. She must have sensed me staring so I went back to looking at…lamps.

“(Y/N)?” She called. Shit. I looked up nonchalantly.

“Um, yes?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? You remember me right? Swim class?” And that’s what it was. That’s what connected Kate to the school. She was a swim coach. She must have watched Derek from there.

“Oh right.” I smiled, “I completely forgot. With everything going on it’s been hard to remember.”

“Right, I heard about your parents.” She gave a sympathetic smile, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” She put a hand to her chest.

“It’s alright. It seems that there’s a lot of fires in this town, huh?” I smiled, tilting my head to the side.

Her smile tightened, “Yeah. Unfortunate circumstances.” We both nodded slowly. It seems like we both knew what was really going on here.

“What have you been up to recently?” She asked.

“Oh I work at the school. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your niece, Allison. Such a sweet girl.”

“She is, isn’t she? Kinda like how you used to be. It seems you’ve been associating with Derek Hale. He’s a fugitive, don’t you know?”

I answered innocently, “I’m quite sure you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Which one? Associating with Derek Hale or that he’s a fugitive.”

“Ms. Argent, I think you and I both know what a real criminal is. Now I am sure someone was chasing your niece around that school and I wish she hadn’t been in that situation. And I believe we’re assuming that all these killings were committed by someone who enjoys seeing others in pain. Someone manipulative. You had Derek as a student, does that sound like him?”

Kate chuckled, “I know him a lot better than you do. A lot better.” She left, taking her arrows to the front of the store.

What did she mean by that? How did she know Derek “a lot”? Not like I really wanted to get answers from him since he decided to join his Uncle’s murder parade. Derek was good, he fought for justice for his sister. But now that he’s found her killer, he doesn’t want to hurt him. I guess, I could understand the point that Peter was his only family left. The point that Peter made it so he was the only family left was just too much to ignore for me. I just-…I couldn’t believe that he would do that unless he was trying to trick him somehow.

I messed with the soup I made for dinner, placing the cover on the pot and letting it simmer. Stiles was running like a bat out of hell.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I looked out at him.

He skidded to a stop, “Peter Hale is taking Scott’s mom out on a date, I’m gonna go rear end them.” He took off again. That meant Peter wasn’t around Derek to influence him. Which meant I could talk to him alone. I turned off the stove top and grabbed my keys.

On the drive there, I felt the terrible feeling again. Something was going to go wrong again. I parked in the spot that we had first parked when I originally got lost in the woods and found my way to the Hale house. It wouldn’t be hard to find it again. I walked for a while and I had finally found it, his Camaro was in front of the house. I was about to step onto the porch when I felt a sharp pain in my back. I inhaled sharply, arching my back. I reached around and pulled out whatever had hit me. I inspected it, it was a tranquilizer dart. Who the hell-…

My vision started to get a little fuzzy, I blinked hard to clear it. Soon, my legs get numb. I fell backwards, landing on the forest floor. I groaned, trying to move but my limbs weren’t responding. Kate Argent kneeled down next to me and smiled.

“Guess I was right about one thing.” She pulled down a gas mask that had been on the top of her head and threw something through the open window of the house. The last thing I heard was Derek yelling at Scott to run.

I was slow to wake up. Whatever had been in that dart knocked me out real good, the effects were still lingering now even as I was waking up. I was back tied in a chair again. If I got out of this situation alive, I was throwing out every chair I owned.

“There you are, sleeping beauty.” Kate’s voice echoed. She bent over to meet my eyes. I tried to pick my head up, fighting to stay awake.

“Man, I think I gave you too much. Thought you could handle it.” She lifted my head up.

“Wha-what did you give me?” I slurred.

“Wolfsbane. Nothing deadly, just enough to knock you out.” She smiled, dropping my face. Why in the hell did she shoot me with wolfsbane? And why did it work?

“It took me a while, but I finally found your connection in all this. It seems Beacon Hills has two werewolf families.”

I found the strength in my neck to look up, “What? My…my family aren’t werewolves. I didn’t even know they existed until like two months ago.” I grimaced.

“Well they aren’t now, silly. How is Michael by the way?” She asked, the door opened behind me, two men walked in - dragging something large behind them. My vision was still fuzzy so I couldn’t tell what it was.

“Michael?”

“Yeah, he was my little protégé. His family come from a long line of hunters. Just like me. He got too involved with his undercover work though. When we tried to destroy your clan the first time he couldn’t go through with it.”

“You’re crazier than I thought.” I shook my head.

“I don’t blame you for being confused. I didn’t know either for the longest time. My brother and your father had a deal of some kind, details. They kept you hidden from your own world.” She pouted dramatically.

“Listen, lady. You are insane.” I blinked hard, my vision finally clearing. The two men had left, and it turned out the large thing they had been caring for was Derek. They had him chained up, by his hands, leaving him to dangle. He was shirtless and passed out.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” I asked as she walked over to him. She turned back, surprised.

‘A little protective, are we? You can’t think you can keep him all to yourself, not after our history.” She hummed, running her finger over his chest. What she said hit me like a ton of bricks. That’s why he hated talking about her, why he felt so guilty when she was talking to him about Laura.

“You sexually abused him.” I gasped, completely mortified.

“I wouldn’t call it abuse.”

“The law would. He was sixteen years old. He was just a kid!” She didn’t look the least bit phased, “You’re sick. A sick, sick bitch.” She crossed over to me quickly, slapping me hard across the face. I will admit that it hurt a lot, but the worst pain was that as soon as Kate’s hand connected with her cheek, Derek woke up with a gasp. She turned, a wicked smile on her lips.

“Oh this just keeps getting better and better.” She smacked me again, sending me back into darkness.

I woke up, not sure how much time had gone by so I could finally get a good look at Derek. There were wires attached to his right side, attached with black electrical and paper tape. He looked in pretty rough shape, worse off than I was.

“Are you alright?” He asked, still not meeting my eyes.

“I’m okay.” I nodded, “Derek, I am so sorry for what she did to you.”

His jaw tightened, “She told you.”

“I thought she got to you just being the swim coach but I could have never imagined… I’m so sorry.” It made sense now why he didn’t want to be close, why he couldn’t be around me in the beginning. She took everything from him under the guise of love. She preyed on a child. He didn’t want to be vulnerable again.

“I can’t imagine how much anger you have. And guilt. None of this was your fault.”

“It was my fault. I was stupid and should have known better.” He glowered.

“Derek, you were a kid. And she’s a psychotic manipulator who used her charm and good looks to seduce a child. She’s a monster.”

“I know that. but that doesn't make the guilt any worse. I’m the reason they’re all gone.” His voice trailed off at the end.

“No, no you’re not. She was manipulating all the people that Peter killed. The bus driver was an insurance investigator assigned to the case and got fired for fraud, Mr. Harris taught her how to make the bomb necessary to start the fire, she hired three guys with priors of arson. That’s why they were on Laura’s list, she figured out all the people helped Kate with the fire. But I guess Peter already told you that.” He stared, processing what I had said.

“Did he not tell you that?” I narrowed my eyes, “He’s killing people and he didn’t tell you why, just that they were on Laura’s list?” He didn’t answer.

“Why are you blindly following him? What good reason could he have for killing Laura? If he really wanted to kill those people, why wouldn’t he just work with her? He cut her in half and left her to rot! Left her for you to find!”

“I don’t need you yelling at me about it! I know he killed her and he has no justification for it. He’s crazy! I’m playing into this because if I don’t he’ll go after you!” He shouted, finally looking at me.

“What?” I mumbled.

“He wants to make a new bloodline. As soon as he builds up a pack, he’s coming for you and-” Derek was cut off by a door opening. And in walked Kate Argent followed by her niece, Allison. Derek had shifted formed when they walked in, all of the anger and rage built up in his system and the change just happened.

“What is this place?” She asked.

“Let’s start with the basics– you know how every family has its secrets?” Kate came to me, wrapping a gag around my mouth before I could talk, “Ours is a little different…” She turned the spotlight onto Derek. He roared at her loudly.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” She mused. Allison took a step back. Kate walked over to the electrical equipment, turning up the dial Derek gritted his teeth, his body became rigid as it went through him. At the same time, my vision clouded. I could feel my body hanging like his, the electricity flowing through my bones. The two only stood there, watching Derek struggle, scream, and writhe.

“What are you doing to him? Is this going to kill him?” Allison asked, her voice echoing between the room and the vision I was in.

“Oh, come on, kid. Don’t get all ethical on me now.” Kate leaned against the equipment.

“What is he?” She looked between Derek and I, “What are they?” Kate finally opened the circuit, cutting off the electric flow. Derek hung there limply, breathing heavily. I was pulled from the vision, gasping for air and feeling all the soreness that came with being electrocuted.

“Her…” Kate hummed, “I’m not sure. But him - shape-shifter. Lycan. Werewolf.” Derek glared at them, his eyes burning bright blue.

“But to me he’s just another dumb animal.” She flipped the switch again, sending more volts running through him. He screamed through his gritted teeth. I glared, fighting against the visions so I could focus, I could feel the static making my hair stick up. Allison, looking conflicted, looked between Kate and Derek. Kate turned off the volts again. His head hung low, the pain finally knocking him out. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my head straight.

“Come here,” She brought Allison closer to Derek. Kate grabbed his chin.

“Get your hands off of him!” I tried to shout around the gag, but it all came out as gibberish. Kate ignored me regardless and forced Derek’s lips open to show his teeth.

“There are canines. Also known as fangs. Made for tearing and rendering flesh. Not something you find on those cute little leaf eating herbivores, is it?”

Allison shook her head, “Is this a joke to you?”

Kate’s hands dropped from Derek’s face, “Sweetie, there are werewolves running around the world. Everything’s a joke to me. How else do you think I stay sane?” Sanity train left ages ago.

"So was it him at the high school? And all the other animal attacks?” Allison asked.

“There’s actually three of them. Another younger one like him,” She motioned to Derek, “Called a beta. And then there’s the alpha. Alpha is the pack leader. Bigger, stronger, nastier. Those are the real ugly motherfu-. ” As she was speaking, I kicked a nearby rock towards her leg

“Why did you take her if she’s not one of them?” Allison looked at me. Kate nodded and walked over to me, pulling a vial out of her pocket.

“A very extraordinary thing occurred that I have never actually seen before. You see, she comes from a family of werewolves but is not a werewolf. But somehow they were able to form a mating connection, because as you know animals like him mate for life. He feels her pain, she feels his.” She opened the vial and let a drop fall down onto my pants. The liquid seeped through the fabric onto my leg, causing a red hot burning sensation. I bit down hard on the gag, breathing hard to ignore the pain. She put the cork back on the vial, walking her and Allison back out of the cellar.

Later on in the day, not sure how many hours went by but Kate was back, rummaging through Derek’s jacket.

“Come on, Derek, he killed your sister.” She pulled out his wallet and took the money that was inside, “Ya know, maybe you’re not telling me because you wanna kill him yourself or for some reason, you’re protecting him.” She dropped the wallet and grabbed his chin so he faced her, she put what looked like his driver’s license up to his face.

“Awww, look at that sour face.” She pouted and let go of his face, “I bet you’re used to people coming up to you and saying: Smile, Derek. Why don’t you smile more? Don’t you wanna just kick those people in the face?” Derek glanced at me before looking back at Kate.

“I can think of one.”

“Promise?” She smiled, an amused look on her face, “Cause if I thought you’d be that much fun, I’d let you go.” She continued to rifle through his wallet, “Nothing, nothing, nothing. God, I hate this detective crap.”

“Are you gonna torture me or are you just gonna bore me to death, huh?” He was getting more and more irritated.

“Oh sweetie. I don’t wanna torture you.” She said sweetly, “I just wanna catch up. Remember all the fun we had together?"

“Or the time you burned my family alive?” He growled, “Working with another set of psychos to do the same to another family?”

"Ya know? I was thinking more about the hot, crazy sex we had. But the fire thing, that was fun too.” She played with his emotions, the same way she had done before. Derek jerked forward towards her. She didn’t flinch.

“I love how much you hate me. Remember how this felt?” Kate bent down to the hem of Derek’s pants. I struggled against the chair, agitating the burn on my leg, but I needed to help him. Kate’s tongue snaked out and ran over Derek’s abdomen. Derek roared at her, his fangs sharp.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to torture you.” Kate said as the door opened again, revealing a bald man, “But he does.” Kate looked at me, watching me continue to struggle against my restraints.

“Ooh, she’s a fighter, Derek.” She laughed, “Reminds me a lot of myself at her age.” She looked at her henchman, “Don’t be shy, give her some too.”

After getting nothing from either of us, the man left. The guy seemed to enjoy punching Derek in his stomach and watching me double over. His experiments ranged and there were a few new cuts on my body that weren’t there earlier today. Kate walked in, listening to someone on her phone.

“Unfortunately, Derek, if you’re not gonna talk I’m gonna have to kill you.” She walked back over to the electrical box. I screamed through the gag, lunging my body forward, making the chair jump forward. I tried again but lost balance, the chair fell sideways. My arm slammed into the concrete floor. Derek winced at the impact. Kate chuckled, reaching for the knob to close the circuit.

“Say hi to your sister for me.” She paused, “You didn’t tell her about me did you? The truth about the fire?“ Derek’s guilt showed on his face, now too tired and beaten to hide it.

"Or did you?” She asked, “Oh, sweetie, that’s a lot of guilt to keep buried. It’s not all your fault. You got tricked by a pretty face. It happens. Handsome young werewolf mistakenly falls in love with a super hot girl who comes from a family that kills werewolves.“ Derek’s emotions ranged from anger to guilt and sadness.

"Is that ironic? Is it? Ironic, that you were unknowingly helping me track down the rest of the pack. Again. We’re just a little bit of history repeating.” She paused for a minute, thinking about what she said, "History repeating..“ She muttered.

"It’s not Jackson is it? Oh no no no, he’s got a little scratch on the back of his neck. But he’s not in love with Allison. Not like Scott.” It didn’t take torture to find out who the other beta was, so that just meant Kate Argent was more of a monster than I originally thought. The new danger was to Scott and that translated to Stiles, and I wasn’t there to keep him safe.

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

Read part 9 here!

I’m reading the transcript of the episode as I’m writing so let’s say the similarities between what (Y/N) says and what Kate says are intentional.

Likes, Comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Again I want to thank everyone who has been reading, it’s bring back my Teen Wolf nostalgia.

Comment below or message me to be on the taglist!

YSM Tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs

#derek hale x reader #derek hale #teen wolf x reader

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bedbellyandbeyond · 3 years

Photo

Drop Off

(Story Post)

The middle school grades were already off for the summer which is how Diederich and Nari were able to take their Europe trip, but Dax’s second grade class was only just wrapping up that week. He still had classes to teach leading up to his weekend trip with Nathan, but he always went to his boyfriend’s place immediately after school. He knew Nathan felt overwhelmed having to take care of the twins and Wano by himself, so Dax tried to be as available as possible. On Wednesday, he came home surprised to see none other than Jeffrey Matthews standing in the front hall with Ben strapped to him. Nathan was there as well, drilling him like it was a game of 20 questions. “I told you, he didn't invite me,” Jeffrey was saying. “I just came by to give Wano a gift.” “What kind of gift?” Nathan demanded. “Good afternoon?” Dax announced himself as he came in. “Hello, Jeffrey. What are you doing here?” Jeffrey rolled his eyes. “Like I've been telling Nathan, I brought over a gift for Wano. That's all.”

Wano came down the stairs at that point and went over to Jeffrey eagerly. “Hello, lovemate. How are you?” He gave Jeffrey a peck on the forehead. Nathan frowned. “Wano, did you invite Jeffrey over?” Wano shook his head quickly. “No, this is a surprise to me!” “I brought you this,” Jeffrey said handing Wano a box. “Made it myself!” Wano opened the box excitedly to find a cake inside. “This is for me? Why?” Jeffrey just shrugged. “I was saving this recipe to make for Bler for Father's Day, but you know, he’s gone, so I made it for you.” “Is that a chocolate cake?” Nathan asked. “Chocolate's not good for your Eclulan diet, Wano.” “I still like it,” Wano said. He smiled at Jeffrey. “Thank you.” Dax went over to his boyfriend and rubbed his back. “Nathan, relax.” Nathan placed his hands akimbo. “So, if that's everything, Jeffrey you can be on your way.” Jeffrey frowned. “Why are you so pushy? I came a long way. I would at least like to stay for some of the cake I made.” Wano looked at Nathan and then turned back to Jeffrey. “No, I am sorry, Jeffrey. You cannot stay.” “What?” Jeffrey huffed. “Why not?” “I did not get permission for guests,” Wano said. “But it is okay, I can see you this weekend! I will be at APID while they go north.” Jeffrey softened a bit. “Oh yeah? Okay. Can you save some cake until then?” “If you want, you could take it and bring it back to APID Friday,” Wano suggested. “No, no. You should have some while it's fresh. Just save me a piece,” Jeffrey said. “Jeffrey, if you'd like, I could drive you home again,” Dax offered. “Naw, you just got home,” Jeffrey brushed off. “I've got a bus pass.” “I insist,” Dax said. “After all, we have car seats and that'd be much more comfortable for Ben than being carried a long way, wouldn't it?” “I guess so,” Jeffrey said. “Right now, or can I say goodbye to Wano?” “Of course, you can say goodbye,” Dax said giving Nathan’s hand a squeeze. “It'll only be about twenty minutes there and back, babe.” “Thank you, Dax,” Nathan said. Jeffrey wrapped his arms around Wano's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Text me, okay?” “Yes,” Wano said. “I will show you how much I love eating your cake.” “Nathan can't have any because he's being mean to us, okay?” Jeffrey decided as he pulled away. “I'll see you later.” “Okay.” Wano gave Ben a pat on the head. “Goodbye little Ben.” Jeffrey grinned and made Ben wave. “Say ‘Bye Wano'! Bye bye!” Ben just looked up at Jeffrey. “Buh?” “He's not much of a talker,” Jeffrey admitted. He gave Wano's bicep a squeeze. “Alright, see ya, handsome.” “Bye.”

On the way to Ollie's apartment, Jeffrey was clearly upset. He’d asked for the aux but he wasn't settling on any song for more than a few seconds. Dax found it very distracting while he drove, so when a song he knew came on, he told Jeffrey he liked it and it was left on. “So, you and Wano,” Dax tried to make conversation. “Pretty serious, huh?” Jeffrey frowned. “Yeah… I don't get what Nathan has against us being together. We're both adults. It's none of his business.” “Well, Nathan cares about Wano a lot,” Dax said. “And I think he's more concerned about the fact that you guys won't be able to be together because of Wano's immigration status.” “He got an extension,” Jeffrey said. “Can't he get another one?” Dax sighed. “I don't think it's happening… I think Wano will be deported one way or another. He can reapply to return but it's hard to say if it would hold and how long it would take, considering he violated his VISA by acquiring a criminal record.” Jeffrey pouted. “Still… He's still here for now. He should be able to do what he wants.” “That's not really true,” Dax said. “His staying with Nathan is conditional. He can't leave the house and he must behave himself. Nathan is partially responsible for him considering he’s housing him. We're just trying to make this transition smooth so he's in good standing with APID should he be allowed back.” Jeffrey crossed his arms. “How is seeing me misbehaving?” “It's not really about him seeing you so much as… Well…” Dax frowned. “He says you're both trying to make a baby. Is that true?” Jeffrey shrugged. “Well, it’s normal for two adults in a relationship to have sex… I don't really like condoms and stuff. Most aliens can’t carry our STDs anyway. And if I get pregnant, I get pregnant, I guess…” Dax sighed again. “Do you see how that can come off as irresponsible? Wano's not…the brightest, and he's driven by a lot of very, I want to say, basic instincts, so I'm not really that surprised if he thinks having a baby will make everything great, but I know you’re the smarter one. You have the ability to be the responsible adult in this situation. Do you really honestly think having a baby right now, with Wano of all people, is a good idea?” Jeffrey huffed. “…You know, you're not my dad… I don't need your life advice.” “No, I'm not your dad,” Dax agreed. “But I was your teacher once, and I do care about all my students. You have a lot of potential, Jeffrey. I would like to see you thrive in this world. You have options. You are capable of making good choices.” Jeffrey just went silent. Dax just gave up for now and decided not to bother him the rest of the way. When they got to the apartment building, Dax went up with him to make sure he got in safe. Jeffrey's cousin was there, and he looked rather upset when he saw Jeffrey. “Where've you been?” Ollie asked. “I texted you and you didn't answer me.” “I just went out. I don't have to tell you everywhere I go,” Jeffrey stated as he took off his shoes. “I was worried about Ben,” Ollie said going over to pick up the baby. “I thought you might've taken him to a bar again…” “That was one time,” Jeffrey moaned. “Can you get over it?” “And who's this guy?” Ollie asked looking Dax up and down. “I'm Dax,” Dax said. “I—” “He's a friend of a friend from group,” Jeffrey said. “He offered me a ride home.” “I actually taught Jeffrey in high school,” Dax said rubbing his neck. “Never expected my partner to be in the same pregnancy group as him, but here we are.” “I'm Ollie, Jeffrey's cousin,” Ollie said. “I went to the same school as Jeffrey some years before him. I don't think I remember you.” “I was only there a couple years,” Dax said. “I work at APID E now.” Ollie shrugged. “Are you an ‘alternative person' like they're calling people these days?” “Uh, well—" “Ollie, you know that’s rude!” Jeffrey snapped. “It's alright, Jeffrey,” Dax said. “My situation’s a bit hard to explain.” “We're fairies, you know?” Ollie said, smoothing out Ben's hair. “Probably wouldn't guess from looking at us. Jeffrey's more than me. That's why he's so short.” “That's actually quite interesting,” Dax mused. “Is it a matter of being mixed, or are fairies like merpeople, where the child will always be a merperson no matter if one parent is human?” “It's a bit of both, I think,” Ollie said. “Fairies have been interbred with humans over a long period of time so we've sort of evolved with humans… But, uh… It's like this. Both of Jeffrey's parents were fairies making him a high blood fairy. Only my mother was a fairy, making me low blood. But I'm still considered a fairy 100%. Any kids we have will be 100% fairy no matter what.” “So, even little Ben too then, despite his alien heritage?” Dax asked. “That’s right. Low blood like me but still 100% fairy,” Ollie said. “That’s truly lovely,” Dax said. “Since embracing my native heritage, this topic has always fascinated me. I did my Masters thesis on the ‘Blood Quantum’ and it’s negative effects on indigenous groups in Canada—" “Ugh, if you guys are gonna nerd out, I’m going to my room,” Jeffrey said taking Ben with him. Ollie waited for Jeffrey to close his bedroom door before sighing. “Sorry about my cousin… He’s very scholastically averse.” “Oh, I know, imagine trying to teach him French…” Dax said. “But please, I’m now a bit invested. What sets a fairy apart from a human?” “Hm, some basic stuff,” Ollie said. “It’s mostly magic sensitivity. But physically… Can’t grow facial hair, generally short, can’t really gain weight, some magic ability, sometimes inhuman hair or eye colour. Oh, and the ears.” Dax tilted his head. “Well, your ears aren’t particularly pointed or anything… And you’re rather average height.” “Low blood as I said.” Ollie spread his arms. “All I really got was the eyes, the lack of facial hair and the metabolism. Although, if I try hard enough, I can gain some muscle where Jeffrey can’t… I think I’ve even heard of low blood fairies getting big and muscly and growing beards. Never met one, though I don’t really know other fairies outside the family.” “You do look rather fit,” Dax commented. “You have great calves.” “Thank you, I’m a runner,” Ollie said proudly. “And you’re not too bad yourself.” “Ah...” Dax rubbed his neck. “I’m a bit of a yoga and swim nut. Although I’ve been a bit out of shape lately…” “Are you kidding? You have very tight buns,” Ollie complimented. “Well, thank you… I really should start working out again…” Dax said, rubbing his neck. “I keep looking up some fun smoothie recipes I want to try for workouts, but I haven’t found the time. Not to mention the protein powders are expensive, and I kinda need it with my diet.” “Well, the one I get isn't so expensive,” Ollie said. He moved to the cupboards. “You know what, the taste's been a bit different lately so you should try some of mine and if you like it, you can get it online at wheylux.com.” “Oh? Alright, sounds promising,” Dax said. “I can order it, you don't have to share.” “No, no, it's no big deal,” Ollie said grabbing the container from his cupboard. “It really is reasonably cheap, and you don't need much each time. I take a teaspoon and it lasts so long.” “Well, alright. I'll try it,” Dax said. Ollie made up a tiny Tupperware for Dax and handed it over. “There you go. Keep the cup. I have plenty.” “Well, thank you,” Dax said pocketing the product. “I appreciate it.” “Don’t mention it.” Dax smiled. “I should probably head home though. Promised I'd be back in 20.” “Don’t let me keep you,” Ollie said. “Dax, was it?” “Yes. Dax Olivier.” Dax stepped out the door. “And Ollie, right? Are you a Matthews as well?” “Larson,” Ollie offered his hand. “Oliver Larson. Or just Ollie.” Dax shook his hand. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Ollie.” “You, too. Safe drive. Thanks for dropping off the brats.” Dax chuckled. “No problem.”

#lore #Dax #Jeffrey #Wano #Nathan #Ollie #Ben #werewolf #alien #fairy #thunderbird

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine 😈

Erik getting caught fucking a sex doll and plus sized Reader catches him in the act/ Fic inspired by Tanerélle- Mama Saturn.

Warnings: Straight up SMUT. Nothing but smut.

Y/N.

A sinful treat that Erik wanted to devour every single time he saw her. Sexy bitch. He likes a girl that’s a bit of a challenge to get into his bed. She didn’t wear her pussy power on her sleeve. Not a church girl exactly but one who’ll play mouse to his sharp-clawed cat. Y/N was exactly that challenge. She’s a plus sized model from Washington DC that Erik had the pleasure of meeting during a block party/ fundraiser in Oakland CA for the Wakandan Outreach Center.

She volunteered for one of the booths there and Erik couldn’t help but to talk to her. She compelled him. Erik found himself enjoying her east coast accent and how much she loved being a model. It was the only thing she’d ever wanted to do, and she was in it for the long haul. She was turned down plenty of times; denied opportunities because of her “shape”. Bullshit. Complete bullshit. Her shape, her overall beauty...Erik’s thoughts lingered on her pretty face and equally beautiful body even after he went home from the office, picturing her standing behind him while he showered, arms wrapped around his waist, her face nuzzled into the small of his back.

Okay...that wasn’t all he pictured. He’d pictured bending her over his California King Bed, her hands fisting the 800 thread count sheets while he plunged his fat dick deep inside of her throbbing pussy, making her cum almost instantly. He pictured her losing some of the calm control she exerted over every other aspect of her being, trusting him to be there to catch her as she trembled her way to ecstasy. From simple meet ups whenever she came around the Outreach, Y/N wasn’t the girl who threw her pussy around like a Frisbee. Fucking perfect. He liked inexperienced puss.

Good, Erik wants that. He wanted nothing more than to break that puss in hot and raw with his sizable appendage. A pretty puss that he could turn out. She’ll remember him in that pretty kitty. He’d never taken the time to actually become friends with a women without sex being involved. Y/N was just that. She would come over at times to chill with Erik, watching movies or chatting it up. Even though Erik wanted to fuck her, he still appreciates the times where they would just link up and bond. It got so crazy that Erik gave her a spare key whenever she needed a place to escape to when he was out of town with his cousin; the King of Wakanda. Every time he would come back home, her smell...nutmeg and vanilla bean would still be there. In his sheets. In his kitchen. On his couch. Ugh. He was half tempted to let her move in since she couldn’t stand living with her roommate.

“Have you ever had your big, juicy ass properly worshipped?”

That’s what he wanted to ask her while staring at her proud, thick, curves before him, imaging the luscious mocha color of her booty straining as she bounced gently up and down his big, fat dick. Her heavy bottom was the perfect roundness, a reward for Erik’s months without sex, of yearning to kneel down in front of her, to taste her sweet pussy and touch her beautiful voluptuous body.

This is all your fault, Y/N

Erik found himself doing something he hasn’t done in a long time. It was a late Thursday evening, he drove past a Sex Shop he’s been meaning to explore. Succulent was the name of it, one of the C’s blinking in and out from the faulty light bulbs. Big, read cursive letters over top of a sleazy adult toy shop in the heart of Oakland on a rainy Thursday evening. He needed a release. He hadn’t seen Y/N for a couple of days since she went to visit family in Atlantic City. She teased him with a few sexy pics in skimpy dresses and bikinis and Erik shamelessly beat his hefty dick to the images.

Parking his car, paying the meter to avoid a ticket, Erik pulled his windbreaker hood over his head to shield the rain drops, slamming his door shut before checking that the coast was clear to cross over. Once his left foot hit the cracked and wet pavement, Erik stood in front of the sex shop, rain hitting his lashes and the tip of his nose, his face illuminated by the LED lights that warmed his russet skin and sparked his nerves. In the display window, there are a few tall boxes with a picture of a very very titillating black women that looked like a cosmic beauty with an Afro and eyes that sparkles like diamonds. Her naked body glistened like some supernova sex goddess, skin like midnight. On the outside of the boxes there are big, bubble gum pink letters surrounding it.

Mama Saturn Kan Make U Kream!

Erik opens the door, a soft bell dinging above his head. The shop smelled like scented candles. The rug was a plush royal purple and the lights were dimmed to set the mood. Rows and rows filled with any and everything SEX. Occupying the register is a young black girl with long passion twists in her hair pulled up into a bun, a matching legging set colored peach with gold gladiator sandals on her feet. She’s currently standing on a step ladder, putting up the same sign in the window above a display behind the register.

Mama Saturn Kan Make u Kream!

“Hi!!!”

She was upbeat and good-humored with a pretty smile and hazel eyes. Erik returned a half smirk, the dimple in his right cheek creating a deep hollow. He removed his hood before taking his right hand to shake out his tapered dreads.

“My name is Shay, if you need any help at all, let me know,” she looked Erik over with appreciative eyes.

“I’ll let you know if I need anything Shay,” Erik says before walking further into the store, his eyes moving from left to right as he took in the scenery. Smaller shelves filled with DVD’s and porn magazines were situated in the front. Erik picked up a few to look over. Ebony Lust, XXX Cocoa, Busty Mochas, Ghetto Booty Queens...

This store must be owned by a black male or female. Erik really liked that. He could see a few white men flipping through pages, eyes as big as saucers staring at all that chocolate, divine booty and pussy on those pages, the visuals popping out at them like 3D pictures. Erik bobbed his head to Megan Thee Stallion’s- Sex Talk while peeking down a few aisles to explore. What Erik hadn’t noticed until now is that there are booths in the back with a black velvet curtain as the only concealment. Curious, gait so smooth, Erik made his way down an aisle filled with male sex toys to see what was behind those curtains.

Finally there, standing before one of them, Erik pulled the curtain back. The booth was small and cramped. It was one of those booths where you put a quarter in a slot to watch a quick porn scene. The booth and walls were nice and clean, painted black like the curtains, but Erik could only imagine how it looked before. Cum stains on the floor and on the booths, women watching the thirty second flick while rubbing themselves down. Men slipping their dicks past the velvet curtains like a glory hole so they could provide something for the women to suck and slurp on.

“You can go in if you like. It’s only a quarter.”

Erik was alarmed when he felt a small hand rub the tension from his muscles. Turning to look over his broad shoulder, Erik’s whiskey-colored eyes fell on a 5’5, caramel skinned baddie. It was Shay, the store clerk.

“Just make sure you wipe up when you’re finished, okay?”

Erik chuckles, releasing the curtain so that it can close, “Damn...it gets that messy, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shay shakes her head with a grin, “I can’t even begin to tell you what goes on beyond these curtains...some of the shit I’ve seen...”

“Wild,” Erik licks his lips.

“Like I said, you can go inside, the flicks are only thirty seconds but it’s worth it,” She says with a honeyed tone.

“Yeah...I need more than thirty seconds to bust a nut, ma. That’s not nearly good enough.”

“Oh?” Shay folds her arms across her small cleavage, “See...I can tell you’re no amateur. You’ve probably tried a lot of the toys in here with women.”

Erik’s lips twisted in thought, eyes heavenward, “I’ve tried a lot of things...I guess you can say I’m an expert...what? You got something that will spark my interest?”

“Just the thing,” Shay walks closer, making her voice smaller, “ Mama Saturn can make you cream.”

“Mama Saturn?” Erik blinks his eyes down at Shay before pointing towards the front of the store, “You mean the sex doll in the display window? Nah, that’s not my type of thing, baby girl.”

“You’d be surprised. Ten have already been sold and they came in today. They’re selling out in other sex shops too. Thanks to one of Tony Stark’s ex-employees that worked in his artificial intelligence department.”

Erik’s eyes squinted as he elevated a single brow down at Shay. If one of Tony Stark’s ex-employees created Mama Saturn it must be an impressive design, almost like the real thing. He knew it had to cost an arm, leg, and head. Erik wasn’t going to lie, he is curious about the sex doll. He remembers laughing about men fucking sex dolls. Who would want to stick their dick in a plastic blow up doll to bust a nut? The shit was comical.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Shay gently squeezes Erik’s bicep, “if you change your mind about Mama Saturn, you know where to find me, handsome.”

Erik regarded Shay as she sashayed away down one of the rows filled with erotica before disappearing completely. It was midnight and he was standing in a sex shop. He came here to buy something he probably already has packed away in one of his heavy duty suitcases at the back of his closet. Toys he hasn’t used in FOREVER since he laid his eyes on Y/N. He’s been courting Y/N for months. Yes, Erik “the pussy monster” Stevens. He didn’t earn that nickname just for the fun of it.

He could only imagine the women he used to sleep with seeing him again. They wouldn’t hesitate to give him the finger or an evil scowl and for the most part he didn’t blame them. He was selfish, greedy and horny in his younger years, too full of himself to appreciate the true joy a woman could bring him on all levels. Erik has never been in a situation where he wasn’t in a hurry to get a girl out of her clothes, to figure out who she was by the way she writhed, the way she moaned his name into the pillow or his ear, the way she came on his dick or his tongue.

Deciding to get something quick; some new BDSM toys, Erik grabs a basket, filling it up with handcuffs, edible lube, vibrating tongue covers, candles for hot wax play, nipple clamps, floggers, anything so he could get home for the evening. An evening he could be spending sitting up on the phone with Y/N, her sweet voice keeping him company while he was in bed. Erik trailed to the front of the shop, standing behind a few men. One of them he noticed carried a box with the sex doll inside; the long box in front of him.

“That will be…$105.86,” Shay watches the customer insert his chip into the card machine, his transaction completed.

“I can help you!” Shay called to the man with the sex doll. She began ringing him up, Erik’s eyes looking at one of the boxes in the window.

Tell me all your names, baby

Tell me all your names, I need to know

Then I'll tell you mine, baby

Then I’ll tell you mine and we can go

To past the time

Shift paradigms

Align our bodies with the sky

'Til I am yours and you are mine…

The song began to play with the surround sound of the sex shop. The sultry voice called for him, tickling his ears and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

I'd do anything for you

Yeah, I’d do anything for you

Baby, just say the word

And we make perfect sense

God could not resist no

I can feel the urge

To drop defense

At my expense

Allow my body to ascend

Along with yours

Let love commence…

“That’s all for you today?”

Erik was the only one left in line now.

“Shit, it’s late as hell,” Erik spoke in his defense, “Long ass day.”

“No problem, handsome,” Shay rings in his items, “Candles?”

“You never know,” Erik chuckles with his signature half smirk.

Close my eyes, embrace my matter

Swing my hips as if they bear the rings of Mama Saturn

Stretch my vertebrae so we can climb it like a ladder

And step into our world…

“Who is this?” Erik asks with fondness in his voice.

Mama Saturn,” Shay says with a coy smile, “Well, she’s who inspired the design of this sex doll.

Erik couldn’t keep his eyes off of the boxes in the windows. What was it that made this sex doll so compelling? Maybe it was because he was aching for a sexual release. Maybe because he wanted to know why this sex doll was so popular. Did it do tricks? Did it talk to you? Was it designed to feel like the real thing? A really pussy?

“...how much for one of those sex dolls?”

Shay tried to fight a smile but the corners of her lips couldn’t help but to turn up.

“2,000.” Shay says flat out.

“Makes sense,” Erik didn’t flinch at the price, he expected it to be that much especially since it was created by an ex-coworker of Tony Stark.

“Last chance,” Shay teases, all of his other items priced at $78.86.”

“Shit, why not, add one to the total.”

—————————-

Friday Evening

“hmmm what can you do?” Erik paced his bedroom in a pair of grey sweats and a plain white T-shirt. The manual for Mama Saturn rested between his fingers, the doll itself sitting in a recliner chair in his bedroom. The doll was indeed impressive. The skin felt so real, the face just as mind blowing. Erik honestly felt that 2,000 was a snag compared to what it should be retailed for. He had it charging since this morning since he planned on testing it out tonight.

“Mama Saturn can make you cream...I act out live fantasies for you...charge me up and take me for a ride...you won’t even tell the difference between the real thing and me...”

Erik shakes his head before folding up the instructions. He looked over at Mama Saturn sitting in the chair, the eyes on that doll feeling more and more realistic the longer Erik gazed. Tearing his eyes away, Erik reached for his glass tumbler filled with cognac, taking a long sip. Was he really going to fuck a sex doll? The thought of it has him laughing into his glass. Wiping liquor from his chin, Erik’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Erik pulls it out to find Y/N calling him. Placing his drink down, Erik answers the call, resting on the edge of his bed.

“Hello?”

“Erik?”

He felt warmth creep up his belly.

“Hey,” He says with a soft spoken voice.

“I missed you,” She sighs, “I had to cut my vacation short.”

“I missed you too,” He really wanted to tell her to come see him since her trip ended so quickly, “Wasn’t even there for 48 hours.”

“Well...my family is pretty broken. I was hoping to make amends but that didn’t work out. I was not going to be there for two more nights and deal with it.”

Erik lays back against his bed, sliding the instructions to Mama Saturn to the side, “If i were there to keep you company the trip would have been better...am I lying?”

She giggles, “No. you would have made it even better.”

Y/N grew silent on the other end, the sound of her turn signal blaring through the phone.

“Where are you?” Erik asks.

“I’m on my way home from the airport. I’m tired, I need some sleep. I have a lingerie shoot in the AM.”

“Jet lagged, huh?” Erik runs his fingers through his dreads, “Once you get in that house you’re ass is gonna be passed out on the couch.”

“I know! I was thinking damn it’s a Friday night and I’m usually eating Chinese with Erik intstead of by myself on his couch but yessss I am entirely too tired to stay up late. Rain check?”

Erik hopes he didn’t have disappointment in his voice when he responded, “Yeah, of course. If you’re free tomorrow you can come over.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Erik...let me get off of this phone, I’m almost home. Night, Erik!”

“Night, ma,” Erik ends the call, resting his phone against his chest, “Damn…”

Erik looks up and over his head at the sex doll. Lifting up, stretching his arms above his head, Erik exhales before removing his sweats and his T-shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed completely naked now minus the gold chain around his neck and his Nike socks. His dick was semi erect between his legs, resting against his inner thigh. The minute he went to grab his smooth, brown dick it thrummed against the palm of his hand. Erik rolls his tongue along the inside of his left cheek.

Standing, Erik walks over to his closet, opening it and grabbing one of his suitcases filled with sex toys. Opening the suitcase, Erik grabs a bottle of lube before closing it back up. Erik shook the bottle, the contents inside sloshing around. Erik with his lube in hand walked over to Mama Saturn seated on his recliner chair. He stood before the sex doll, his eyes dancing over it, wrapping his mind around the fact that he was about to fuck the shit out of this doll. Grabbing the remote control that came with it, Erik admires the different vibration and pulse settings.

Erik grabs the sex doll, bringing it to his bed before resting it in the middle of it. Even caressing the thighs was bizarre. Eyebrows disappearing behind the curtain of tapered dreads resting over his forehead, Erik pulls the legs apart on Mama Saturn, eyes growing wider the more he stares at her “pussy”.

“No fucking way,” Erik was stunned.

Before him is a pussy molded for him to deep-dive into. The ULTRASKYN material is smooth. He was going to need A LOT of lube to help his fat dick glide inside of Mama Saturn’s soft, fully detailed vagina. Erik takes his finger tips to stroke the outer lips of her mound. Erik cracked a smile when he used his finger to insert inside of the realistic sex doll. Flexible, walls covered with countless ridges to create a realistic sensation.

“Shit,” Erik says barely above a whisper, “they weren't playing when they made you…”

Erik removes his finger, grabbing up his lube to cover his dick and balls generously before doing the same thing to Mama Saturn’s vagina and...how impressive, her asshole. Three holes to explore including her life-like mouth with lips so full. Mama Saturn is amazingly detailed from the smooth texture of her skin to her brown eyes with luxurious lashes, curly fro, and plump lips. Erik decided to try out the mouth first. His dick hasn’t been in a woman’s mouth for months. This will have to do for now until he finally gets a chance with Y/N.

Using his fingers, Erik opens her mouth, amazed to see a smooth pink tongue and a deep throat. It’s a sex doll so he knew it would be never ending. His pipe would be able to go deep in all three of her holes without a barrier. Grabbing his dick at the base, jerking it, Erik lines his dick up with the mouth on Mama Saturn before pushing himself fully inside.

“Ooh?” Erik shuttered, his gluteal muscles tight, “fuck...fuckk.”

Shocked, confounded, dazed, Erik stared down at the doll like it came to life and slapped him across his pretty face. What else can you do, he thought before grabbing the remote, pressing a random button. His body almost fell on top of the sex doll. Erik just knew that there was some man out there, lonely and undesired who would marry this fucking doll. Mama Saturn’s mouth and throat are lined with stimulators to make Erik bust strong and hard. The squishy, ribbed texture along with the way it pulsates and vibrates had Erik grabbing a fist full of the doll's hair that felt so silky smooth to the touch, the curls coiling around his thick fingers.

“Goddamn,” He whispered shallowly from his lungs, “ahhhHHH, fuck this fucking doll ain’t no joke!” He spoke through clenched teeth.

Who knew a damn sex doll would make his balls tight and heavy with cum and his dick so damn hard he could bench press a barbell. His thrusts became even more sloppy, hips smashing into the realistic face of Mama Saturn. So much room for him to swivel his hips, ram his dick in hard and fast, and yank and pull her hair. No teeth, just straight slippery ridges giving him an ultimate sensation.

“Unh, shit,” Erik felt the muscles in his back flex, “Shit is so deep.”

Deeper than the real thing. Nothing compared to the real thing, NOT AT ALL but Erik could understand in that moment while his dick went in and out with a gluttony to cum why this toy sold as much as it did. One thing for him to check off his list of sexual exploration. The sheen of sweat on his back trickled down over his ass and the muscles in his arms trembled the more he lowered that doll's mouth over his dick.

“SHIT- oh my fucking God-“

Erik pulls his dick out, stroking it a good two times before his thick, tasty cum landed on the doll's face. It was the vibrations and the pulses. He’d never cum that quick from oral.

“Mmmm,” He moans, before rubbing the last bit of his nut on the doll’s face, “This is so wild.”

Dick still poked out and nowhere near softening up, Erik pries Mama Saturn’s legs apart, staring down at the realistic vagina with horny curiosity. Once again, Erik slips his fingers inside, closing his eyes and imagining that it was Y/N’s pussy he was fingering. She had to have the fattest pussy ever, not to mention the wettest pussy ever. She would probably cover his entire hand with her slick juices. Biting his lip, Erik lines his sensitive, wide tip up with the tight opening on that damn doll. With a slight shake of his head, Erik’s dick slipped past the flesh-like labia before fully burying inside.

“Ugh! Shit!” Erik’s head flew back, eyelids flickering, “Shit don’t make no sense…”

He was frustrated with himself for fucking a sex doll when he could be ten inches deep in Y/N’s pussy with his balls slapping her ass. Hips pistoning in and out of Mama Saturn while his sweat dropped from the tip of his nose, Erik kept his eyes closed as he imagined this doll being Y/N, staring up at him with her innocent brown eyes, confused and moaning. He imagined that he was with her, sliding hot and nasty against her sweaty body, watching her arch and stretch as he pulled his dick almost all the way out of her gorgeous, slick pussy, then slamming it back in and making her scream.

“Y/N...damn...your pussy feels so good Y/N...I knew that puss would be nice and tight for daddy’s fat dick, baby...I just wanna make you cum, girl...fuck...I just wanna feel that sticky cum all over this big-fucking-dick-

“Erik?”

“Yeah? I’m in that pussy baby? Daddy fucking that pussy?”

“Erik…”

“Yeah, call daddy’s name like that, Unh fuck, girl...pussy is so damn good-

“Erik!”

His eyes popped open almost instantly when he heard Y/N’s voice elevate. The vibration from Mama Saturn shot straight to his heavy sack before Bam!!!! His cum filled that toy to the hilt. Erik pulled his body away from the doll, staring at it with bewildered eyes while his dick bobbed up and down between his legs. Did it just speak? Now his mind was really playing tricks on him…

“Erik-Erik I’m, I’m so sorry.”

A jarring expression on his sweaty face, Erik turns towards the entrance to his room to find Y/N standing there in a fabletics outfit with a Nike cap covering her braided hair, white Nike huarache on her feet, and a take out bag in her left hand. She was frozen, her eyes dancing between the doll covered in his cum and his naked body glistening and still very much hardened.

“Y/N-

“I’m really fucking sorry Erik, oh, fuck, I’m so fucking sorry I feel so bad for walking in on you like this, Erik shit, I’m sorry-

“I...I thought you were going home?”

“I...was...but...I…” she instantly stopped speaking. Y/N’s eyes could not stop looking at the doll and Erik’s body. She was half-tempted to drop the food and scurry away but the scene in front of her eyes…

“Y/N? How long have you been standing there?”

Longer than she would like to admit. When Erik hung up she decided last minute to surprise him with food. Y/N wanted badly to see Erik, hoping that tonight would finally be the night that he would take advantage of her but instead he’s taking advantage of a sex doll that he envisioned was herself taking his big ass dick. All that dick that he was giving to a sex doll…

“I’m just...I think...Erik I’m sorry,” Y/N turned on her heels, taking wide strides to his kitchen to drop off the food and rush out of his luxury apartment. She didn’t know that having his key would lead to her walking in on him having a blast with a sex doll. She felt embarrassed. Erik looked abashed for a second but then his body seemed to relax, his nudity and the sex doll with its legs wide open before him just another thing in his room.

“Y/N! Wait!” She could hear Erik getting up from his bed. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Erik walking towards her, still naked, dick swaying, eyes soft and pleading for her to stay.

“Erik, I’m sorry,” She couldn’t stop apologizing. She was at his door, twisting the knob when his hand grasped her shoulder. Y/N didn’t turn, she couldn’t bring herself to face him while his amazingly-built body and that beautiful, fat dick stares back at her, inviting her.

“Stop apologizing,” He used force, turning Y/N completely, her back pressing against the door hard. She turned her head away from him, looking over his sweaty shoulder.

“It’s nothing for you to feel sorry about, Y/N...I just wasn’t expecting to see you tonight…”

She could smell his sweat...it was an intensely masculine scent. The spiced nuances burned her nose, she could even smell a hint of cocoa. His entire atmosphere warmed her and electrified her body in ways she hadn’t felt since forever. Why was he doing this? Standing before her, looking down at her with his blazing eyes, fully naked and still as stiff as concrete.

“Last minute decision,” she stuck her hand in a small pocket on the side of her athletic leggings, “Here...your key back-

“Nah,” Erik folded his hand over hers, “Keep it...I like it when you use it...makes me think you live here with me…”

She looked at him then. Their eyes matched the same compulsion.

“What?” He asks with a whisper.

“...Erik, I should go,” Y/N went back to twisting the knob but her eyes stayed glued to his, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He closed his eyes before raising a single brow, “I really wish it was you instead, Y/N...I really wish it was you, girl.”

His eyes opened and THAT'S when things really turned up. His body pressed into hers, the flesh of his girthy dick resting against her stomach from their height difference. He was still sticky down there from using lube to fuck that doll. She swallowed spit, lower lip trembling as she watched his face get dangerously close to hers.

“You don’t know how bad I need you,” He mumbles, “Stay, please? here,” Erik reaches for her hand, Y/N’s fingertips touching the swollen, wide tip of his dick. She gasped, eyes glossy. Erik made her wrap her hand around his dick, her fingertips barely touching.

“Please?” His eyes swam with lust as he studied her face.

The urgency in his voice made her quiver. This was too much to unfold at the moment. The doll was still on his bed. Could she really have sex with him right now after he just ejaculated inside of a fake vagina? His fingers lightly touched her hips and Y/N’s lower lip rested between her teeth. While she nibbled nervously, Erik’s warm breath tickled her cheek. His lips were so close.

“I wanna fuck you,” He whispered, “I wanna fuck you so bad, Y/N.”

“Not now, Erik,” Y/N pushed herself away from him gently, quickly opening the door, “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t look back, her mind was swirling with tremendous confusion. She did have an early shoot in the AM and she was indeed jet lagged. As he called her name, his voice desperate, Y/N decided to take the staircase so he wouldn’t follow her, or worse, pick her up and carry her back into his apartment, MAKING HER STAY. She stopped on the next level to catch her breath before deciding to take the elevators the rest of the way down. How was she going to face him the next day after what she just witnessed? She had to sleep it off.

—————————

Y/N sat down on a fluffy white sofa after shooting her last few pictures with her personal photographer. Dressed in a black leather lingerie set with matching leather gloves and a choker that spelled out Baby Girl in silver lettering, Y/N thought about what happened just six hours prior.

She didn’t call or text Erik. She couldn’t bring herself to do it yet. He gave her space even though a part of her missed his silly texts. He liked to send her voice messages instead of typing. She didn’t complain, his husky voice was ear porn for her.

“We did good today,” Her photographer, Bruce, a good friend and talented artist says while looking at her pictures on his camera, “You just get sexier and sexier every time I see you.”

She blushed, “Thanks, Bruce. When are you going to show me those sexy polaroids of your fiancé and all her thickness?”

“I’ll bring them next week, I promise,” Bruce walks away to put his camera in its designated bag.

“Let me get dressed,” Y/N stood up from the sofa, “I’ll lock up, Bruce, you don’t have to worry about it. Go home and take your fiancé to brunch.”

“You’re sure? Ain’t no rush for me.”

“I’m positive, go on,” Y/N waved him away while grabbing a robe from her vanity to put on, “Treat her to some food and have a good time.”

“Thanks, Y/N, I’ll see you next week, Aight? I got Jayla hooking you up with a sexy set of dresses. I’ll see you at 8 AM, next Saturday.”

“Can’t wait! Bye Bruce!”

Y/N gave him a final wave as she watched him leave the studio. She was just about to gather her things and get dressed when a knock came to the studio door. Y/N sat her things back down, walking towards the front of the studio and finding a man standing at the door, his head downcast as he typed on his phone. She couldn’t make out his face because it was shielded behind a hood. He wore a denim jacket over his hood with a pair of black cargo pants and black and white Jordan 13’s on his feet.

Her phone rang. Reaching into her robe pocket, Y/N pulls out her phone.

Erik.

Her eyes shot up towards the door, his eyes staring back at her through the glass. There was no use in ignoring him, he could see her through the glass, wrapped in a robe. With an irregular breath, Y/N walked to the door, unlocking it before stepping away. Erik opened the door, pulling his hood off of his head before allowing the door to swing shut behind him. He turned, locking the door before facing her again with searching eyes.

“How was the shoot?” He asks while placing his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket.

“It was great, always great,” Y/N’s eyes darted around the studio, “What are you doing here?”

“Figured I would try to show up and see you work but I’m too late,” Erik’s eyes burned into hers, “Then I figured we could get something to eat and talk about what went down last night before you ran away from me.”

She wasn’t getting out of this. Y/N motioned for Erik to follow her towards the back of the studio where Bruce’s backdrops and furniture were. Erik took a seat on the white sofa, Y/N right next to him, folding her shiny, chocolate legs. Erik couldn’t help but to glimpse a peek of her smooth legs and the little bit of cleavage that teased him through the small opening at the top of the robe. Beneath that thick robe was a body he wanted so deeply he shivered. There was so much to see and taste and touch. If he pulled that robe from her body he wouldn’t know where to start or finish.

“I ain’t expect for you to see all of that,” Erik spoke with his hands, eyes glancing over at her from time to time, “how did you feel when you saw me fucking the doll?”

“Uhm…” Y/N adjusted her hips on the sofa, “It was shocking...I guess I was a little turned on by it…” she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“If you were turned on...why didn’t you stay?”

Y/N batted her lashes as she gave him a once-over, “Because it was too much to deal with. The doll...your body…”

“Hm,” Erik observed her with his whiskey eyes, “I really wish you would have stayed with me…”

“I will tonight...I am right now,” She gave him a soft, timid smile.

“Yeah...you are right now,” Erik bites his lower lip, “I’ve been wanting you for months now, Y/N...you heard what I said last night while I was fucking the doll?”

She nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip before shaking her head, “I don’t remember.”

Erik scoots closer, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands, “I said that I wanna make you cum.”

With a shivering inhale, Y/N’s hand in Erik’s became sweaty.

“I’m tired of playing games when I know you’re feeling me too...I know you want me just as much as I want you. I waited for months, I’m tired of fucking around, Y/N.”

“I do want you, I just didn’t want to rush into things. I didn’t want to get my hopes up about you so damn fast but I just couldn’t help myself...Seeing you like that last night I…”

Her brown eyes blazed into Erik’s. Y/N scoots closer, her hand nervously reaching out to tug on the collar of his denim jacket, “How long have you wanted to fuck me, Erik?”

“Since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Erik stared down at her hand pulling harder, the fabric applying pressure against his neck. His smile was that of a predator spotting its prey, victory assured. Pure, dumb-founded lust was painted on her beautiful, round face.

“Same,” She says barely above a whisper, “Oh, Erik.”

That was an invitation to pull her on his lap. Erik wrapped his arms around her plump body, his left hand coming up to palm the back of her head so that he could hold her steady while his thick tongue slipped past her lips and into her warm mouth. Y/N reached up to grasp his shoulders, her breath halting each time Erik’s tongue would graze hers.

“Take this off,” He spoke against her lips, “I need to see all of you…”

Without hesitation, lips still pressed against his, Y/N opened her robe before shimmying it off her shoulders, letting it fall on the floor.

“Damn...this is exactly what I pictured.”

All her curves...all that chocolate skin...everything for him to bite and lick on.

“You looking sexy as fuck in my lap, ma,” Erik’s hands couldn’t resist reaching behind her and rubbing her sizable cheeks.

“All this ass…” He wanted nothing more than to pull all of her weight down on his dick, “You don’t know how bad I want to fuck you right now-

“Please?” She begged.

“You remember how I put this dick in that doll? I was fucking that doll like crazy wasn’t I? with all this big dick you sitting on?”

Visions of him screwing that sex doll with all of his fat dick has her more than prepared to take him right there on that couch no matter how many times it needed to be. She’d fuck him and let him put her body in different positions. Anything he wanted, anything he imagined himself doing, he can do that shit.

“Stand up,” Erik instructed with his hands resting on Y/N’s hips.

She stood from his lap, the sexy lingerie making his mouth water. Erik rose from his seat, taking off his denim jacket and his hoodie. With a white beater stretched across his vigorously ripped body, Erik wraps his toned, bulging biceps around Y/N’s waist, kisses long and hot-blooded while he backs her against a nearby wall. Y/N fought for oxygen between kisses, releasing her lips to inhale but it only lasted a millisecond because Erik’s hungry lips were back on hers.

As sexy as the lingerie was on her beautiful body Erik needed to see all of her before him. Reluctantly releasing his lips from hers, Erik presses his forehead against Y/N’s, his hands trailing over the patent leather of the bra and panties she wore. The set barely covered her breasts or her ass. Heavily breathing against her cheek, Erik reached around to unclamp the bra that was struggling to hold up her DD’s. She didn’t stop him, she didn’t tell him no, she simply allowed him to pull the leather from her smooth chocolate skin.

“They are so fucking pretty,” Erik kisses down her neck, “delicious titties baby…” his lower lip poked out when he got closer to her dark brown nipples, “I ain’t even put your titty in my mouth yet and look what you got my dick looking like…”

She heard his zipper, his jagged, labored breath tickling her nipples, “Look what I got for you…”

She took in the sight of his big black dick and at the moment she could already feel her pussy expanding to take all of him. The throbbing deep inside of her itched to feel just how much that fat dick would pound her. Y/N isn’t nowhere near experienced with big black dicks but staring at Erik’s thick pipe made her want to learn with speedy delight. sucking a dick like that she just has to get that mouthful of sperm. She wanted to slow down, take her time and really ENJOY the sheer pleasure of licking, sucking, feeling, smelling and just making him feel the best he’s ever felt before.

“Damn, Erik…” Y/N licks her bottom lip, “that’s a big fella.”

Erik chuckles, “can you take it though? That’s the question,” His hands came up to squeeze one of her breasts, “big ass titties...you are just perfect.” He was amazed by her sheer motherfucking sexiness. Tongue dripping spit Erik lowers his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. Face in between her titties Erik felt smothered in the best way the more she squirmed. Staring at them now they looked bigger than what he expected which makes the situation even better.

Y/N stroked his dick with a twist of her wrist while Erik’s hips thrust back and forth into her hand. She took the time to memorize his length and thickness while slowly jerking him into extreme stiffness. Erik has her breasts covered in saliva the more he nibbled and sucked.

Hissing, Erik removes his lips from her hardened nipple, “put your hands up on the wall.”

Y/N turned, her back arched with her hips propelled back against his dick. Erik got down on his knees, her ass hovering about him, and pulled down her patent leather panties. The tight leather was a struggle to get over her big ass. The panties were digging into her thick thighs and she struggled to stay arched against the wall with her titties smashed.

“Erik,” She called to him, trying to look over her shoulder, “What are you about to do to me?”

Her timid voice has Erik’s dick pointed straight up like a skyscraper. The visual before him, her plump pussy lips peeking at him from the back with her large, wide ass...Erik couldn’t resist giving each cheek a solid slap, the sound echoing in the room as the sting reverberated in his palm, “Have you ever had this big, juicy ass properly worshipped?”

“No,” came her muffled reply as Erik spread her open and let his thick, long tongue explore her sweet curves. His hands pressed painfully into her twin globes before spreading them as far as they could go, giving himself room to taste her sensitive pussy.

“Unh, Erik,” she whimpers.

Erik curled his tongue into a point and dove right in while his finger circled her asshole, teasing it. She took in a sharp breath, her ass jiggling from the pressure he applied. Erik could tell that she never took any dick up her ass and he would surely be the first to introduce it to her.

“Spread your thighs, girl,” Erik commanded, “I’m tryna eat…”

“Fuck, Erik,” Y/N felt his thumbs stroke her wet pussy lips before they parted her pussy lips. Awaiting his assault, Y/N clawed the wall with her acrylic nails. Her mouth fell open wide when she felt his tongue dip in and out of her back door. He was tongue-fucking her ass on his knees, madly slurping and getting it nice and wet. She would have never imagined a man doing that to her, EVER.

“Oooh, Erik! Oooh shit!”

Erik worshipped Y/N’s ass like he would never get another chance, his tongue savoring her sweetness while her pussy juices dripped. Her pussy needed attention too so Erik moved his tongue up and down from her ass to her clit while his sturdy thumbs kept her pussy lips open.

“Ugh, Damn, girl,” Erik swallowed spit, his face shiny, “don’t know where I want my tongue first...this big ass or this fat pussy…”

“All over me, please!”

“Let me taste that clit,” Erik’s lips sucked her clit into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered the more he savored her. Her sweet, sweet pussy compelled him to bury three of his fingers inside of her pussy. When she felt the thickness of his fingers enter her, Y/N shouted, reaching back to hold one of her hefty cheeks open.

“Yes, yes, yes!!!” Erik heard her cry, a little louder than before as he pressed his three fingers deep into her tight tunnel. With her hips rocking back on his hand, Erik feasted on her bottom, her strikingly soft mounds against his cheeks massaging him while he coaxed her into an orgasm.

“Yes! Erik yes! Please keep doing that! Oh God! Erik I’m cumming!!!!!!!”

Quickly, Erik’s fingers left her pussy to spread her ass cheeks extensively, his entire mouth wrapped around her pussy as best as he could since she’s so damn fat down there. He could feel her sticky syrup coat his tongue. He could eat her ass and pussy all damn day but now he needed to be inside of her. Slow stuffing, balls deep, make her cream. That was his motto. He wanted to make her cum on his dick so damn bad.

“Come here,” Erik barked out, picking Y/N up and carrying her to the sofa. He lays her down on her back, spreading her legs wide open for him while she leaned back on her elbows watching. Erik couldn’t wait to get his dick inside of her. The second her pussy lips parted and her tight, wet hole winked at him Erik fisted his dick, dipping his hips low before sliding inside of her. Her head fell back against the sofa, braids resting over her eyes and a steady moan escaping her mouth.

While her head twisted from side to side, Erik watched the way his dick went in and out of her pussy. He loved the sounds her pussy made whenever he pulled his dick all the way out to his wide tip before sliding back in. She was the wettest. Each time he pulled out her juices would gush out.

“This pussy is swallowing this big dick, girl...you ain’t tell me it was this deep...ain’t flinch at all when I got up in this fat pussy.”

“No,” She moaned.

“It’s cuz this pussy needed my dick, huh?”

“Yes,” She closed her eyes, savoring the way his curved erection bounced off her walls, “yes...yes...yes.”

“Yes yes what?” Erik asks while pounding into her on the edge of the couch, “you got my balls heavy with this nut, what’s that yes for, huh?”

“Your dick is just so big inside of me...all up in me…”

Erik threw her legs over his shoulders and rocked into her with a force that has her ass lifting off of the couch to meet his thrusts. It was like magic to her the way her body reacted to him. She grasped his biceps, her bouncing breasts hitting her chin the more he picked up speed. He would thrust fast then slow, repeating that, making her tip over the edge.

“Can I cum please?” She pleaded.

“As long as I get to cum in this pussy, girl,” Erik pulled all the way out, his eyes staring down at her stretched hole, “Can I cum in this pretty pussy?”

“Cum in your pussy, Erik.”

That was all he needed to hear. Erik angles his hips so that he could stroke her G spot with his wide tip. Y/N’s toes curled, her thighs squeezing Erik’s neck. She felt her body shaking and convulsing while his pulsating dick reached depths inside of her she didn’t know existed.

“Oooh, I’m gonna cum,” She mumbled, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. She hit Erik’s chest with weak blows before her heavenly pussy pulled his dick into a tight embrace. Erik growled as his glutes tensed. He could feel his veiny dick swell inside of her like he was ready to pop. Erik watched his big dick spurt thick load after thick load into her pussy.

“Damn, Y/N, FUCK GIRL, look what you got this dick doing! Let me see all of it.”

Erik pulls out watching his jizz ooze out and on the couch. She rubbed her clit while pushing his cum out and Erik’s eyes rolled shut at the beautiful view.

“Lift that ass up...Turn the fuck around I need some more pussy..waited too long for this...watch how I handle you girl.”

Y/N turned around on the couch, whimpering when Erik’s hands came down on her ass hard to force her to move. As soon as she was on her stomach, Erik yanked her hips hard, pointing her ass into the air before slamming back inside of her pussy. She didn’t throw it back on him, too eager for him to do all of the work inside of her pussy.

“Just lay there and let me take care of this pussy…”

Erik kicked off his pants, his hands slapping her ass before they grabbed hold of her plush hips so that he could bang into her. Erik watched her face, wanting to see every single reaction his fat dick gave her. He had her for sure, especially with the way she drooled on the couch.

“Fuck yeah this pussy is good-

“Oooh-

“Yeah? You feel me digging this pussy out? Huh? This dick about to bust…”

She gasped when she felt Erik’s heavy balls hit her clit. He was pulling all the way out and slamming back inside of her with so much force her body would shake. She spaced out when he arched her back more, his hand reaching around to grab her neck from the front.

“You ain’t going nowhere,” He spoke harshly, “You were doing so good taking my dick, baby...DON'T disappoint me.”

She heard his warning, her arms trembling the more she stayed still for him to use her pussy.

“Think I’m playing with you? Huh?” Y/N moaned sharply, cumming on Erik’s dick again, “There you go… creaming all over this dick baby…”

“Erik,” She felt him swelling inside of her, “Erik I feel your dick! It’s stretching me!”

“That’s because I’m about to nut, stay just like that.”

“Oh, my-“

Her fat pussy lips gripped him tightly while his thick cum coated her walls again. Erik didn’t pull out, He kept thrusting until he was satisfied. She made little noises, her eyes droopy while his thick pipe covered in his white cum slowly left her pussy. His release had him shouting curse words to the ceiling in that studio. Erik’s hands left her hips, stepping away to allow her body to relax.

He was glad he waited to have her. It was even better than what he expected. She laid back on the sofa, staring down at her pussy covered with his cum, all swollen and thoroughly beat up.

“I can’t wait until tonight to see you, Y/N.”

She looked up at him through her lashes with her thighs still wide like she was silently telling him to get up in her some more. Bottom lip pulled tightly between her teeth, Y/N admired Erik’s cum-covered dick.

“I wanna suck your dick,” Y/N asked but she didn’t wait for a response. Y/N was on her knees crawling to him. His glistening dick rested on her lips before she opened wide with her tongue covered in saliva, her lips drawing him in. Breathing through her nose slowly, Y/N took her time sucking more and more of Erik’s dick.

“Shit, baby! Okay,” Erik licks his lips, “you tryna’ make me cum again, huh?”

Y/N didn’t respond to him she was all in: locked and ready to take off. The consistency in the way she sucked him even though she couldn’t take all of him...the crease in her brow and the way her head moved in sync with her warm, wet mouth made Erik moan.

“I NEED THIS...suck daddy like you mean it.”

Y/N tried to go lower but ended up gagging, her lips pulling back so she could breathe comfortably.

“Don't worry if you can’t manage as long as you're kneeling down you will practice until you do...Ooh that’s nasty,” Erik’s mouth fell open when she went down to show his balls some attention, “you better get sloppy on this dick and stop playing.”

“Yes, Daddy,” She knew that would make him growl when she said it.

“Got them brown sugar lips on my big black dick, mmmmm,” Erik started panting, his hands twisted in her braids, “damn...some beautiful sexy lips Unh I’m cumming baby...I’m cumming… Unh, get this nut baby…”

Erik found himself shooting off on her face because his hips jerked so frantically that his dick slipped out of her mouth. His cum hit her eyelids, trailing down to cover her cheek. Erik watched his cum drizzle down her neck, thinking about buying a ring for her after the monster head she just delivered. With an uneven breath, equally shocked by how much nut his balls produced, Y/N cleaned herself off with her fingers before doing the same to his dick.

“Daddy didn’t even have to tell you to clean me up, such a good girl,” Erik pulled Y/N up before grabbing her neck, his fingertips applying just the right amount of pressure before pulling her close so he could taste himself off of her tongue, “You’re coming with me, no need in going back home when you were coming to see me later anyway.”

“True,” She blushed before sucking on his bottom lip, “When we get back to your place...more fucking?”

“You’ve been teasing me all these months...it’s time you make up for that shit...yeah, we’re fucking, girl...still gotta get in this ass.”

“I’d try it with you...I’m a little nervous though-

“You’re gonna enjoy it so much, trust me,” Erik gives her a reassuring smile with his dimples, “get dressed, baby girl.”

Y/N slips away, walking to her vanity to get dressed while watching Erik do the same. Going back to his place this time around knowing that it’s going to involve more sex has beaming and while she rushed to get dressed. As he ties his Jordan’s Y/N thinks about the sex doll. She wouldn’t mind watching him fuck the doll while she sat in his recliner chair and fingered her pussy. She’d wait to ask him about it.

“You’re ready?”

Y/N looked around at the studio. She could come by tomorrow and clean up a little.

“I’m ready,” She says while running her hand through her braids, walking forward to grab Erik’s hand. He lead the way to the front of the studio, both of them inflamed and fighting the urge to fuck again.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @munteanhore @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara@honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta @seyven89 @lahuttor @janelledarling @shewritestheblues @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @alittlejd @jaysaidhi @thewaysheis--awkward–awkward–awkward @walkrightuptothesun @shawnstacksss @theesotericqueen @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel-blog @bbygirrll05 @fahi0nanart @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @yaminax-kuss-a @lackbbaby @amyhennessyhouse @thattruckinwitch @dameshaemonique @glittermakesmesmile @justgetitoverwith0 @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @cydneyrenee4 @ajjiiaaahhhh @naeelyniecee @ambthegamer @efonteno @mikesteel20 @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @xoxomyaah @asweet-serendipity@therealmrsmbjordan @ajspencer1892 @queengodiva619 @niqui87 @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21 @woah-express @bbgiirrll @backandbetter2 @megabriahall @forbeautyandlife @queenflaws @cecereads209 @queenbetter @yomiloo @daddys-baby-girl-t @lovinthemelanin @ladymac82 @ambitionwood @t3mporaa @toniilaney @iv0rysoap @sinfully-dope @lovehatecritique @chocolategirl605 @naysianaee

#killmonger smut #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine

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catxsnow · 3 years

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KIDNAPPED

Request: Can I please request something with "have I been kidnapped?" + "Um.. that's unclear". Go crazy with it.

Warning: car crash, uh, swearing, cringe (I was 3/4 done this and realized I hated it so, uh, Sorry Amanda)

A/N: Reporting to you live and Tipsy friends what’s good

Word count: 2.6k

San Francisco usually wasn't a crazy city. Sure the traffic sucked, but at least the views were nice. The local shops always had something interesting and you were guaranteed to find a coffee shop on every block. Over all, you were glad you moved there, it was a nice change in your life - one that you needed.

However, when this group of so called 'Titans' showed up, things got pretty out of control. Buildings got destroyed, people were put in harms way with the sudden increase in villains showed up to take these guys out. You hadn't had the luxury of running into any of them, hopefully you wouldn't have to.

You moved there to get away from your hectic life, you didn't want to be thrown right back into something even worse. The news was filled with these guys - a girl getting chased on rooftop by her deranged father, Robin falling to his death only to be saved by someone who resembled Superman, even a green tiger.

It was interesting seeing them all on the news, but other than that, you never wanted to be involved in any accident that they caused. It seemed they were used to hurting people more than saving them - even if it was accidental.

San Francisco seemed to be safer than the last city you were in. For once, you could walk home with your headphones in and not worry about your surroundings. Just like any night, you walked from work back to your apartment in the late hours of the night, wanting nothing more than to just crash in your bed.

The night was cold and no matter how tightly your wrapped your coat around yourself it didn't bring any more warmth. The sound of traffic was tuned out by your headphones. Street lights illuminated your path and you were so close to your home that you could almost smell the inside of it. Not actually, but you really missed your room after that long day.

The sound of a crash overpowered your music. You turned back to see what had happened by the second you had done so all you could see was the tail end of a car coming directly towards you. There was no time to move out of the way or even to think. Even if there was, you were frozen in your spot with fear.

A body crashed into you before the metal of a car. Your heart rate was going so incredibly fast that black spots filled your vision. You should have been dead, that car was coming right at you. You tried so hard to keep yourself awake, but the only thing that you saw was a red 'S' on a black t-shirt as you passed out completely.

You woke up to arguing and bright lights staring down at you. Your head was pounding and it took you a moment to remember what had happened. A car had nearly hit you and somehow you impossibly had been saved. Then, embarrassingly you completely passed out from shock. Wherever you were now, it certainly wasn't a hospital.

There were several people standing together, each of them trying to talk over one another. You sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes in hopes that this headache would go away. "Uh," you spoke up, but none of them had heard you. They were too engrossed in arguing to notice that you had woken up.

"Hello?" You tried again. Still nothing. You tried to listen in to what they were talking about and quickly came to the conclusion that it was you. Whoever saved you obviously wasn't supposed to bring you there, that was what the yelling was about. There was also the point that you couldn't just be left in the street unconscious - another good point.

This time, you coughed loud enough for one of them to look over at you. Your eyes narrowed in on his t-shirt, it was the same one that had saved you. And it wasn't just any 'S', it was Superman's logo. Whoever this guy was, he was obviously fast enough to be related to the man of steel himself.

As you looked at the others in the group, you picked up on who they were as well. Fiery red hair, bright green hair, these were the people that were on the news. You were in the Titans home base with the heroes themselves. "Holy shit," you mumbled out, eyes wide. There were a few there that you didn't recognize and you were sure it was only because they were in civvies.

"You're the Titans," your jaw fell slack. As much as you bashed them to your friends, saying how much danger they brought to this city, meeting them had been completely different. This was a group of people that kicked ass and had quite literally saved your life. You never thought you'd meet them, especially under these circumstances.

The oldest one - or at least you assumed him to be - looked at the one with the green hair. "Don't let them leave," he ordered. The others followed him out into the hall. They had no idea what to do with you, that was obvious. Conner shouldn't have brought you there. They understood he was still new at this, but he should have known better.

You still felt in shock. Shock from nearly dying. Shock from being saved. Shock from waking up in the Titan's home base. You never expected your day to go like this, and you never wished it to. These masked heroes brought nothing but trouble to San Francisco... and yet if it wasn't for them you wouldn't be standing there.

The green haired one awkwardly rocked back and forth on his heels. This must have been the one that could turn into the tiger - at least it made the most sense in your mind. He avoided looking at you. The squeak of his sneakers against the floor and the hum of the medical equipment at your side was the only sound in the room. It drove you nuts.

"Can you turn into any animal or just a tiger?" You suddenly blurted out, unable to take this awkward silence any more. His eyes widened at your question. How did you even know that he could do that? How had you pieced together that they were the Titans so quickly anyways? None of them were in their suits.

"Uh..." Gar trailed off. "Tiger is just the easiest," he answered. "How did you know that I could do that?" You raised your eyebrows at him - was he serious? Without words you point to your own hair. He seemed to understand what you meant. Green tiger, green hair, it was pretty easy to put together. You could see his cheeks tint red.

"My name's Garfield. Gar," He tried to cover up his embarrassment. Gar cringed at the sound of his voice cracking.

"Should you be telling me that?" You asked. Wasn't the whole point of being a hero having a secret identity? This was the first time that you had met one, and it certainly felt like he didn't really know what he was doing. Nonetheless, you were just happy that they didn't kill you for knowing their identity - or their secret location.

"You already know what I look like what's the harm in knowing my name?" Gar shrugged. He wanted nothing more than to get the attention off of him - so he decided to throw the new guy under the bus. "Besides I think Conner kinda already has a crush on you, so."

"Super-rip-off?" You asked. To be fair, you didn't know his name, or if he even was related to the great Superman. All you knew, was that he had saved your life and you were grateful for it. And from what small glimpse you got of him, he was pretty cute too.

"He probably heard that," Gar told you. Heat rose to your cheeks with embarrassment. "But yes. Superboy. He's the one that saved you and brought you here. Really, he probably should have taken you to a hospital but he's kinda new at this whole thing so, yeah. I guess now they're trying to figure out what to do with you."

"So, have I been kidnapped?" You asked again. The leader had said that you weren't allowed to leave and that Gar was supposed to stop you if you tried to. Would you ever be allowed to leave again if you knew their secrets? Would they really trust a stranger that they just met? They didn't even know your name!

"Um, that's unclear," Gar answered. To be honest, he really didn't know what Dick planned to do with you. After growing up alongside Batman, it was drilled into him to be super cautious. He knew how to keep his identity safe and not let anyone know who he really was. Conner had ruined that pretty quick.

"My name's (Y//N), by the way," You told him, sticking your hand out for him to shake. Gar grinned and accepted it. For everything that just happened to you, you were taking it all pretty well. He expected you to freak out, or even something worse like faint again. "I guess if I am being kidnapped you should at least know who I is."

Gar pulled one of the chairs beside the bed to sit across from you. He started asking you questions about your life - what you did, what you liked to do in you spare time, things like that. It was nice talking with him. For a kid, he seemed like a very genuine guy. You wanted to ask about him, but considering his lifestyle, it didn't seem like a good idea.

It felt like hours that you were stuck in there, chatting away as the people outside that room tried to figure out just what to do with you. Finally, the man that saved you - Conner - and the one who ordered Gar to stay with you, came back in. The two other women that were with them earlier hadn't come back.

You smiled at them both, hoping that your kindness would lessen whatever sort of punishment they had coming for you. Conner looked flustered at your smile, proving Gar's theory even more.

"Superboy shouldn't have brought you here," The oldest one spoke. He looked familiar, and it took you a few moments to realize why. He was that kid in the circus - the one that's parents died in the middle of an act. The Flying Graysons - this must have been Dick. "We talked abo-"

"You're Dick Grayson!" You grinned. Excitement grew within you for meeting someone you idolized as a child. "I went to like four of your shows when I was a kid! Oh my god you and your family were like my heroes! We stopped at Haly's Circus for three weeks straight. You were the reason I joined gymnastics, I wanted to be like you!"

Dick looked taken aback by your sudden outburst, as did Gar and Conner. His shock turned to a smile, it was nice to see someone who remembered his time in the circus. It reminded him of his childhood, being back there - no responsibilities, no drama, just fun. What were the odds that Conner picked up one of his old fans?

Why was he here? What connection did he have to the Titans? The three men watched as the gears in your brain turned as you pieced everything together. Bruce Wayne took him in when he was a kid - right around the same time that Robin - another childhood hero of yours - showed up. Was he Robin?

No, the one on the news a couple months back was shorter, and had different hair. But the Robin that was in Gotham - the Robin that you looked up to - had the same acrobatic techniques as Dick had. "You're Robin," you looked over him, picturing him with a mask and green suit. "The old Robin. Which means... Bruce... Holy shit!"

"Wow you put that together a little too quickly," Gar looked impressed by your analytical skills. First guessing that he was the tiger, then Conner being related to Superman in someway, now Dick being Robin? You were good. "And you look angry," he looked over at his mentor. Dick's arms were crossed and his jaw tight. This little revelation just made things far more complicated.

"Oh I'm so fucked," You whispered to yourself. Knowing who Batman was? That was something that very few people knew about. You certainly weren't supposed to know and yet here you were. "I don't suppose you'll just believe me when I say I'm really good at keeping secrets and that I promise to never say anything?"

"I do, actually," Conner spoke for the first time since you had met him. The three of you looked at him in shock. This man didn't know you, he couldn't possible just believe your word like that. "I can hear your heartbeat, you weren't lying."

"So I can go?"

"No," Dick stopped you. "If I find out that you did tell anyone out secret, I will find you. Trust me, I'll be far more kinder to you than Batman." Conner could hear your heart rate once more. This time, it was erratic - you were scared. You gulped and nodded your head. The last thing you wanted to do was get on their bad side.

Dick gestured for you to follow him. You did, with Gar and Conner only a few steps behind the both of you. The apartment was massive, and beautiful. But if Bruce Wayne was funding it you expected nothing less. You didn't get to look at much before reaching an elevator. Dick pressed the button and the doors opened wide for you to walk in.

"You don't want my name? Address? Anything to track me down?" You asked.

"I've already got a file on you," Dick answered. You should have known that he would. If he was really Robin, he would have found out everything about you the second you were carried through those doors. "And if I really wanted to find you, it wouldn't be that hard. Just remember what I said."

"Right. Don't tell anyone or Batman will break my bones. Got it," you shuddered at the thought, walking into the elevator. "Nice meeting you all, I guess." You looked over at Conner, "Thanks for saving me, and uh, feel free to call me," you winked right before the doors closed. Gar was right, and he was cute.

Conner's face flushed red. They watched in the small screen as you went down. A smile grew on your face - it wasn't very often you were so forward like that. But hey, you weren't going to see him again so why not? Unless, he did actually call you - which was unlikely. Did heroes have romantic partners?

Conner looked over at his friends. Gar was giving him a thumbs up at the win and Dick was holding back a chuckle. None of them expected their evenings to go like that, but it sure was interesting to see it play out. You seemed like a nice person, and by the way that Conner could tell that you weren't lying, a trustworthy one as well.

"You have their number in that file, right?"

#titans imagine #titans one shot #titans #dc titans #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #gar logan #garfield logan #Conner kent #beast boy #superboy #dickgrayson #nightwing #imagine

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

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oddly specific memories i have of listening to tma

in honor of the finale, and because i am a sentimental asshole, i bring you this potentially uninteresting and completely pointless list. i'm gonna miss this show a lot

half my original reasoning for listening to the podcast was to motivate me to walk on the treadmill. this did not work. but i did it the first time, when i was going through the trailers and anglerfish, and i remember the room where my dad keeps the treadmill is really dark and the spooky chanting sort of freaked me out

after the treadmill, i ended up listening to the bulk of the first four episodes on the couch, and halfway through i let my oldest cat, winnie, who always lived outside (i know, i was very against actually keeping her outside) in the house. and she jumped up on the couch with me, which she literally never did. (she was very grumpy and not super affectionate.) i had that cat since i was five, and she passed last june, and i really miss her. quarantine kind of gave us the opportunity to hang out with her a lot, because we were home so much. so i'm glad these memories are kind of intersected in my mind. (below: a pic i have from that day.)

my friend sarah relistened along with me the first time around, which was extraordinarily sweet of her, and also led to some interesting interactions. for example: she forgot when it was revealed that sasha was dead, so she accidentally spoiled that for me when i asked when the others would find sasha (and i spent all of season 2 just like. anxiously vibrating over this fact). she also made this post, when i was still in like early first half of season 1, and my immediate thought was "oh no martin is dead." i hadnt even MET martin at this point

back in early quarantine, my mom had this rule that we had to do something new every day (to keep away the depression... ha ha). anyways, all i wanted to do in my free time was sit around and listen to tma (and also watch this show i was into on netflix), so i came up with some lame excuses, one of which was "i'll give myself a pedicure." this led to the memory i ultimately associate with mag 56 (trevor herbert 2) being me sitting out on our roof balcony thing, giving myself a horrendous pedicure

another time, my family wanted to go play tennis, and they brought me along and brought a hammock for me to lay in. there was this excess material from the hammock, and the sun was in my eyes, so i ended up pulling it up and over me to block the sun and creating this ridiculous hammock cocoon thing. one of the episodes i listened to that day? "tucked in."

before i ever started the show, my friend sarah stayed with me while i was pet sitting. i remember when she got there, she'd just listened to 150 and was telling me how freaky it was (she was still trying to get me into the show), and she was like "of course we're staying on a CUL DE SAC." (that was also the weekend she watched us for the first time and was very upset because i slept through the whole thing, which is scary when you're staying somewhere by yourselves.) anyways, i spent the whole show waiting for the scary cul de sac episode

while i was listening to the show for the first time, my step-dad (an artist) started painting an EYE on the door downstairs near my bathroom. a fucking EYE. he didn't finish it til i had finished the show. but still weird!!

i binged like 12 episodes in one day to finish season 4, which is not impressive at all, but it's still my personal record. i just remember staying up late in my dark bedroom (til like.... 11 i'm lame and i go to bed early), listening to like 158 & 159 & 160 and just being knocked on my ass by how good it all was... i was SUPER spoiled by this point, through my own fault, and i knew exactly what was coming, but actually experiencing it was nuts

the second week i listened live was 167, where the public release was delayed by a couple hours by accident. i spent like 20 minutes refreshing spotify, thinking it was broken, before going on tumblr and seeing what the deal was. (and 167 remains one of my favorites of s5 because i remember just going "thank god it was worth the wait.")

this one car ride where sarah and i made some of our friends listen to the first three episodes of the show. it was the middle of the night and we were just like blasting down i40 listening to anglerfish and do not open etc

the night the what the ghost episode publicly dropped was the night after my graduation, and i was sleeping out on the couch in the living room so my grandfather could sleep in a bed. it was super dark, and i am a jumpy person, and i Remember being mildly disgusted with myself because the corny sound effects were actually freaking me out. (i think i mightve actually seen something weird that night, maybe, but that's another story.)

the weekend my parents moved me into college, we couldn't get the cable in the house we were staying in, and we were all sitting around doing nothing, so i jokingly suggested starting tma with them, and they were like ok grace. my step-dad promptly fell asleep and my mom zoned out -- which is probably good, she doesn't like horror and she's super claustrophobic, so it's probably better we never got to do not open

my brief roommate in college talked about how she was into those youtube channels where people just read scary stories, so of course i was like try tma out. so she listened to the first episode on her own, and we were out one night, and she started mag 02 while i went into an ice cream place. she was into it (she kept being like open it, ya pussy) and wanted to keep listening while we went home, and even back in our room. i had only been in town for a couple weeks, and barely knew my way around, but i also didn't want to turn the gps on and be interrupted every five seconds. so i tried to find our way back on my own. it took the entirety of mag 03, and into mag 04, before i did it. so now i will forever associate across the street with all those wrong turns i took in a dark, semi unfamiliar city, trying to get back to our college without a gps

the day of the early drop for 179 was the day i moved back home from college -- a five hour drive by myself. i ended up listening to it on the final stretch of the trip, when i was super tired and it was dark and i knew it'd probably be a crazy episode. just me full blasting down i40, drinking an energy drink (which i never do) through a hole punched in the top, listening to daisy's death

186 early dropped the day after initial u.s. election day (when we still didn't know anything). my mom had set up a "watch party" in the living room with these giant air mattresses, and we all sort of spent the day crowded around the TV watching the numbers. not much of a memory, but i remember sitting on that air mattress and listening to martin's monologue in the midst of that messy week

i had a virtual therapy appointment on the day of 187's early drop, and my dad was home, so i drove to an empty parking lot to do the session in some privacy. i was trying to listen to the episode before the session started, so i ended up listening to the last half sitting in my car, in the pouring rain, just staring at my radio in shock (187 remains one of my favorite s5 episodes)

my friend sarah had just come home for winter break the day 189 dropped, and we decided to listen together, just like driving around in circles drinking coffee and listening and speculating on whether or not that was really martin

i started my relisten right after thanksgiving and was just kind of blowing through fast as i could through the whole of december. i had to go back to college to empty out my dorm, and i went to the beach after, and i ended up listening to mag 11 while just like walking around in circles in the tide pools. the closer it got to christmas, the more christmassy i wanted to keep things, so i would like. listen in the mornings and turn on one of those Netflix fireplaces and get all cozy

my other friend went with me on a mini bagel road trip in december, and he was still trying to get caught up, so we listened to mag 169, 170, and 171 on the drive home. (by this point, i was accustomed enough to s5 and smiting scenes to automatically reach for the volume controls when jude perry and jared hopworth died.)

when i relistened to mag 47, i was sitting with my cat beezus. i paused the episode to write this big long meta, so i was in a different headspace when i pressed play again. jon immediately yelled for sasha and i immediately jumped, and beezus gave me a searing glare and just got up and left

i relistened to piecemeal while i was cooking, which i thought was kind of funny and also disgusting

after christmas, i got into the habit of bringing my cat georgia into my room in the mornings, and she'd crawl under the covers with me while i listened to tma

one story i've always liked to tell from my first listen is how when i first listened to the meat arm grinder episode, my dad asked me to help him cook hamburgers later that day and explained how hamburgers are ground up (to my disgust). i hit meat grinder in my relisten and um. you'll never fucking guess what i made for lunch that day

so i had all these arbitrary rules for myself when i started tma last april, and i've broken like all of them. i started listening to tma while virtually working -- you just pull it up on your computer and it works. (i got the life scared out of me when one of my coworkers started talking over the podcast, wondering who it was that had walked into jon's office and why he wasn't reacting and why i didn't remember it.) i also started listening a lot while driving, which led to several long meta posts i wrote being typed up in a parking lot somewhere

i spent the entirety of 194 anxious-cuddling georgia. (i tried to do this for 198 and then didn't have any anxiety to cuddle her over.) i fully plan on doing this for 200, where i am sure i will need it again

my favorite place to listen to tma probably ended up being the roof room at my mom's, and unless something goes awry, this is where i will listen to the finale. (with georgia, of course.)

this list is super uninteresting, like i said, but here it is. i'm gonna miss this show a lot. i can't wait to return to it, later in life, and make all new listening memories in the process

#the magnus archives #personal #food mention tw #pet death tw

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 3 years

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Febuwhump 3: Imprisonment

I’ve been bugging my friends about how excited I am to post this one for so long awlkjfasdlkjf

Summary: Louie makes friends with the richest kid in Duckburg: Doofus Drake. But he quickly realizes his new friend isn’t entirely sane. Especially when he kidnaps him. The problem? His family doesn’t know where he is. He hates Only Child Day.

Trigger Warnings: kidnapping, forced feeding, beating, torture, light dehumanization, I’ve been told Doofus deserves his own warning, mentions of trauma, possessive whumper, imprisonment, strangling

3423 words

Louie had been a captive of Doofus Drake for no more than half an hour, and he was still failing to come up with a plan.

He had to get out of here.

He just... he had to think. Sure, he wasn’t smart, like Huey, or daring to a borderline crazy degree, like Dewey, but he was... uh... he was definitely... shit.

He was nothing without his brothers.

He’d known this stupid only child thing was a bad idea, but Dewey had insisted. He, for all his siblings drove him crazy, actually liked being a triplet. Dewey, on the other hand… didn’t.

That kind of hurt.

But he didn’t have time for that, because what hurt worse than that was being stuck in some psycho’s house.

Some psycho who might hurt him if he didn’t get out fast.

Louie should have ran the second Doofus had pulled a box out of his pants.

That had been so incredibly weird, enough to have him somewhat frantically spamming the down button on the elevator, but then he’d held out the box to him with nothing more than an easygoing “friend present!” and, well… the gold had enticed him instantly. He hated that it had been so easy to catch his attention.

Louie would admit it: he could be shallow sometimes. He liked money. But honestly, after growing up practically dirt-poor, he sort of thought he deserved to.

He knew how miserable a lack of money could be.

“Oh… for me?” Louie had asked.

“I like to play with my friends,” was all he’d gotten in return.

He’d slipped the bracelet easily over his wrist, admiring it. He’d almost forgotten that there had been a time when it wasn’t so tight. So disgusting.

“Alright, friend. Let’s play!”

Things had gone smoothly, for the most part, after that.

He’d been weirded out when Doofus aggressively sniffed his hair… multiple times… but he’d gotten over it so fast when he distracted him with pretty things.

Well, in this case, it was more the breaking of pretty things, but the point remained.

Surprisingly, tearing apart priceless items was actually a really good stress reliever, and Louie had quickly forgotten all his troubles.

Until he went to slash at a portrait of an old woman and was promptly tackled to the floor.

And then, if he thought it couldn’t have gotten any more concerning, Doofus was throwing a full on fit, screaming and tearing shit up to an even greater degree than before.

Louie, so incredibly uncomfortable, had attempted to make small talk with Doofus’s “servants”, as he’d called them.

“My butler’s a ghost,” Louie had said, “yup, he’s dead.”

“We’re dead inside. We’re Doofus’s parents,” the maid had revealed.

That… that was not good.

“The money and power changed him. Go. Before it’s too late!” His mother had urged.

Louie had backed towards the door, deciding that having rich friends really wasn’t worth… whatever this was.

“What’s next friendy-friend?”

He’d stumbled slightly, but continued making his way to the door. It was just too much. It had been getting beyond weird and into straight-up freaky.

“Oh, well, you know, I just noticed it’s getting a little late. Uh, so I’m just gonna head home, and fondly remember all the good times we had. Cool? Cool, alright bye!”

He’d made to step out the door, heart pounding. He’d been so sure than in just a moment, this nightmare would be over.

But before he could even move, the bracelet had tightened until it dug into his wrist painfully, and then, if that hadn’t been bad enough, all at once it had gained this odd weight to it. He was on the floor in less than a second.

He’d gasped, tugging frantically, but the bracelet — cuff? — wouldn’t budge.

Drake had just smiled down at him innocently, but it had only made Louie feel sick to his stomach. “You are home, friend-present!”

He’d slammed the door before Louie could even begin to hope he could escape.

Only then was when he’d been starting to realize that this kid was fucking deranged. Like, absolutely out of his mind.

Why had Louie even wanted to be friends with him in the first place? He could have found other rich kids, ones who were just stuck-up and bitchy, instead of the absolute maniac who was standing above him!

“Let me out!” Louie had demanded. “This isn’t funny!”

“Of course not,” he’d agreed, “it’s quite serious.”

“You do realize who my family is, right? In fact, you should probably just let me go right now, so you don’t have to deal with them.”

Doofus had laughed. “You are funny, friend-present.”

Louie had scowled at the nickname, if you could even call it that. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’s rare that I meet a friend as lovely as you,” he hummed. “I couldn’t just let you slip through my fingers, now could I?”

That had been… creepy. He probably should have expected, at that point, that it would only get worse. But the only thing he’d known right then was that he needed to get out of here. This kid was seriously disturbed.

“My family will come looking for me! And they won’t be happy!” He’d insisted. But that was also when he’d realized that there was one massive roadblock to the plan of waiting it out for his family to come. It was that stupid Only Child Day. Which meant that his brothers were still off doing their own thing, and likely wouldn’t even realize Louie had disappeared until late that night. Worse, he hadn’t opted to actually tell anyone where he was going.

They had no idea he was here. They didn’t even know who Doofus Drake was.

And now, he was stuck on some creepy platform thing. There were three of them. One for Doofus’s mom, one for his dad, and one for him.

Louie tried to ignore the fact that the third one was a clear indication that Doofus had been waiting for something like this. Louie had walked right into his open arms.

“The sooner you give up, the better,” Doofus’s dad was saying, “hope only makes it worse.” The poor guy looked… kind of traumatized. What had that man been through?

Louie was terrified to find out.

“No! If the three of us work together, we might just be able to get out of here!” he insisted, hope blossoming as a vague plan began to form in his mind. “Are you with me?”

The other two shared a look, before nodding their agreement.

And not a moment too soon, because just then, the door opened, and in came Doofus Drake. As he approached Louie, he could only look at him, attempting a poker face. It probably wasn’t working very well.

“The new one’s a traitor!” Doofus’s dad shouted within an instant. “But I stopped him out of loyalty. Because I love you, Doofus.”

“You’re pathetic,” Doofus’s mom grumbled, glaring at him.

“No, he’s lying! I would never do that!” Louie cried, panic spiking through him. “I’m your friend!” he said with a forced smile. “...Present,” he tacked on, suppressing a disgusted shudder to the best of his ability. “Oh, gross…”

“I don’t think I like you anymore, new friend,” Doofus said, glaring at him. Before Louie could get his hopes up that maybe that meant that he was going to be let go, Doofus reached into a plastic bag he’d dragged in with him when he’d entered the room. “Maybe you need a lesson in friendship.”

“Wait,” Louie said as Doofus pulled out an umbrella, “What’s that for?”

Doofus didn’t answer him, reaching into the bag again and pulling out a smaller bag of walnuts. Louie had never thought such an action could be threatening, but oh boy… it sure was now.

“What is he gonna do with the umbrella and walnuts?” he asked desperately, frantically pushing himself as far back on his platform as the bracelet would allow.

Doofus approached him slowly and deliberately, eyes narrowed.

Louie couldn’t get any further away than he already was. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prepare himself for whatever was about to come.

But then nothing came.

The silence was so loud. He could hear four sets of breathing, and that was it. Breathe in, two, three, him. Breathe out, two, three, him. Hesitantly, he peaked his eyes open.

Doofus stood directly in front of him, and, to Louie’s surprise, he’d set the umbrella to the side. It had seemed important just a moment ago, why had it been discarded already? Something wasn’t right about that.

“Here,” he said, holding out his hand. Louie glanced at it, confused. He was holding a handful of the walnuts.

He glanced at Doofus’s parents. “What exactly is going on right now?”

“Eyes on me!” Doofus yelled, his tone reminding Louie of earlier, when he’d been screaming about his dead grandma. Louie complied in an instant, terrified. Doofus took a breath, a calm smile slipping back onto his face. “That’s better.”

Louie just laughed nervously.

“Now,” he said, offering a handful of the walnuts in Louie’s direction again. “Eat them.”

“I — what?” Louie asked, another uncomfortable laugh spilling out. “You realize we can’t eat nuts, right?”

“Eat. Them.”

“I literally can’t, those things mess you up—”

“You’re going to eat them, Llewellyn,” Doofus said, threateningly. “I suggest you do it now.”

As far as being taught a lesson went, this seemed too… tame. Louie didn’t understand it. Doofus was totally unhinged, and while Louie absolutely did not want to eat something that his body couldn’t handle, it just felt like a punishment that was far too sane.

Louie had always prided himself on being able to read people pretty well, but right now, he was just confused.

Still, despite the lacking severity of the threat, he was still afraid. He’d be concerned for anyone who wasn’t afraid of some kid who’d kidnapped them, to be perfectly honest.

When Louie didn’t respond, Doofus glared at him. “Alright,” he said, dropping the nuts back into the bag and grabbing for the umbrella again. “If that’s how you want to be.”

“I don’t — I mean — we can talk this out, can’t we?” Louie said, panic gripping his heart even harder as he realized that he had no idea how to manipulate him. He couldn’t talk his way out of this one, could he?

The metal (and sharp) tip of the umbrella came up harshly against his chin, jerking his entire head up along with it and effectively cutting off whatever else Louie could have possibly tried to say. The point dug slightly into his neck in a painful manner, but that was the least of his problems, right now.

“You’re a real bratty child,” Doofus said, considering him for another moment. Too fast for Louie to keep up, the umbrella had been yanked away from him, and then slammed against his stomach.

He doubled over with a pained shout, wheezing as breath left his body.

The other end of the umbrella — the curved handle bit, this time — was practically shoved into his mouth, prying his beak open.

One of the walnuts was pushed into his mouth, and Louie immediately gagged. He couldn’t do anything to get away, so he could only do his best to swallow it, trying not to choke.

Doofus smiled that stupid little bastard smile.

That look was probably going to be burned into Louie’s nightmares when he got out of here.

Another of the stupid nuts was shoved into his mouth. He gagged again, he swallowed again. His mouth was already getting uncomfortably dry.

If ever he’d had the urge to eat a nut (he hadn’t, because he didn’t have a death wish), this experience alone would have been enough to get him to swear them off forever. He didn’t even like the flavor, not that he had much time to give thought to that.

Doofus didn’t stop until the bag was empty, and by that point, Louie was beginning to feel cramps churning in his stomach. He knew it would only get worse from here.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Doofus asked as he finally took back the umbrella. Louie just worked his jaw, trying to lessen the stiffness in it. He didn’t have it in him to reply.

His lack of response only seemed to make Doofus angry again, and before he knew it, the umbrella was bashed against him.

Louie yelped at the pain it brought, using his one free arm in an attempt to block the next blow. It didn’t do much.

“You will answer me when spoken to!” Doofus shrieked, practically stabbing him with the force of the next hit.

“I’m sorry!” Louie cried. “Please stop!”

Doofus did not, in fact, stop. He just kept hitting him mercilessly.

Louie had been given his fair share of injuries in the months he’d spent adventuring, but regardless, this hurt something awful. He supposed being assaulted with an umbrella would do that to a guy.

But no matter what he was saying, Doofus wouldn’t cease. He just kept attacking him.

At some point, Louie remembered that Doofus’s parents were there. “Help,” he begged, his voice cracking slightly.

“Doofus, stop,” his mom demanded. “This has gone far enough!”

“Are you questioning me?” Doofus shouted, finally stopping with the umbrella so he could storm over to his mother. “How dare you!”

He screamed, throwing down the umbrella so hard it could have broken. Louie flinched away from him, though the bracelet wouldn’t let him get far.

“That’s it. That’s it!” Doofus said, growling. He stomped towards the door, leaving without another word.

“Why would you do that?” Mr. Drake asked nervously, glancing towards the door.

“I’m not just going to sit by and watch him torture an innocent young boy!” Mrs. Drake snapped. “Are you alright, dear?”

“I’m… fine,” Louie said, smiling semi-convincingly. They weren’t the worst injuries he’d ever received. He’d be fine. Probably. Though it certainly hadn’t helped the nausea he was already feeling from the walnuts. He was worried he’d end up vomiting them up pretty soon…

Something in his pocket buzzed.

Something in his… he had his phone. He could call for help! He could get out of here!

Frantically, he pulled his phone from the pocket of his suit, fumbling with it slightly.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Drake cried.

“I’m calling for help!” Louie said, cursing to himself as the screen remained unresponsive for a moment. It had a few cracks on it from his beating. “Come on, you stupid piece of junk! Work with me!” he begged.

He didn’t have long until Doofus returned, that much was clear. He had to be fast.

The phone nearly fell from his grasp multiple times with how bad he was shaking, but he managed to hold onto it, pulling up his contacts app. Before he could dial anyone, he could hear approaching footsteps.

Louie stuffed the phone back in his pocket, doing his best to look unsuspicious.

“I’m back!” Doofus declared, already in a significantly better mood. He met Louie’s eyes, then frowned. He took a few steps closer, refusing to break eye contact.

Louie held his breath, doing his best to win the staring contest. He didn’t like the look he was being given.

In the corner of his eye, Louie could see Mr. Drake fidgeting anxiously. Oh god, if he ratted him out again, he didn’t know what Doofus would do.

“Servant!” Doofus snapped. “Is there anything I should know?”

Louie met the man’s eyes, pleading with him silently. Surely he wouldn’t do it. Surely he would see reason.

“The new one has a phone!” he cried. “He tried to contact someone.”

Doofus glared at Louie, storming forward and pulling the phone directly from his pocket. Louie cried out in panic, reaching for it against his better judgement.

“I was willing to forgive you for your earlier behavior,” Doofus said, “but this? This is unacceptable.” he pocketed Louie’s phone, then pulled out another golden bracelet.

“What’s that for?” Louie asked, eyeing it nervously. “I — uh — I already have one of those!”

Doofus laughed, standing face to face with his captive. “Not quite, my friend present.” Before Louie could do anything to stop him, he’d clasped the thing around his neck.

For a moment, he didn’t even process it. He just stared at his captor in confusion, then slowly felt the bracelet around his neck with his free hand.

“What?” he squeaked.

Doofus clicked something on the remote, and suddenly Louie — could move his arm? What the hell?

Before he could get any ideas about running away, however, Doofus grabbed him roughly and dragged him away from the front door and further back into the house. They took several twists and turns, Louie struggling the whole way, before eventually, he was pulled into a room just as fancy as the other rooms here. The main difference was that, in the very middle of the room, as if it was just another piece of furniture, was a large crystal cage.

“Wait, wait wait, you can’t just—”

His last ditch effort wasn’t worth anything, and he was thrown into the cage anyway.

Immediately, he was prying at the bars, but they wouldn’t give. There was enough spacing that he could get his arm through, but he was nowhere near being able to squeeze between them. On the “bright” side, the cage itself wasn’t really cramped, per se. He could sit up fully, though he wouldn’t be able to stand. The floor of it was big enough that he could sprawl out, at least.

“You’ll be staying in here until you learn to respect me,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some servants to tend to.”

He turned on his heel, leaving Louie all alone in the cage.

He put all of his strength into fighting against the bars, but for the life of him, they wouldn’t fucking budge. Shit.

When that didn’t work, he began to claw at his neck desperately in a poor attempt to get the newer band off. It was bad enough when it was just a bracelet, but now, with another piece of jewelry (this one seemingly functioning a little too much like a dog collar), it was only getting worse. And if the bracelet could prevent him from getting anywhere, who knew what this did?

He wasn’t making any progress.

“I hate only child day,” he declared to himself, trying to distract himself from his impending doom. “I’m never letting them do this again.” Assuming he had the chance to be angry with his brothers, that is.

No, no, he had to think positively. He was related to Scrooge McDuck! Not to mention his Uncle Donald. They wouldn’t let him rot here.

He hoped.

Some time later, Doofus returned.

Louie decided to try his luck one last time. “Please,” he said, “let me go. I just want to go home!”

“Oh, Llewellyn,” Doofus laughed, grabbing him by the tie and jerking him forward, his body slamming against the bars of the cage. He grinned darkly, taking another handful of the fabric in his fist until Louie couldn’t breathe.

He barely managed to get out a few choked sounds, unable to say anything coherent.

“You need to learn your place,” he said, in the type of condescending way you’d speak to a pet that tried to bite you.

Louie decided he didn’t like that analogy. “Please,” he choked, his voice so raspy it could barely be understood.

“I do like when you beg me, friend-present.”

If there had been any oxygen actually going to his brain, Louie would have been disgusted. But he couldn’t breathe, and his vision was going fuzzy, and he didn’t have the energy to think about how psychotic this kid was.

He needed to breathe.

With the hand that didn’t have a hellish bracelet stuck around it, he weakly reached up, trying to push Doofus away. It only served to choke him further.

“I don’t quite think you understand,” Doofus said, jerking him forward again, the little bit of slack he’d managed to acquire now only working against him. “I own you. I wanted you the moment I saw you, and as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now — I always get what I want.”

And with those words, Louie had a horrible feeling that his fate was sealed.

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