#annoyed though like man i wanna draw go away

[snowflakeb0ttles]

have a headache and im being so brave about it everyone clap

[classyrbf]

SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special

INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.

Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.

It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.

A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.

Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.

“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.

His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.

Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”

“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”

You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.

“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.

“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.

His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.

“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.

Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.

As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.

Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.

“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.

“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”

Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.

“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.

You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.

“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.

You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.

Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.

He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.

He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.

You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.

“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.

You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.

“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.

He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.

You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.

“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.

Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.

Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.

Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.

“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.

“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.

“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.

“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.

You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.

Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.

“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.

You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.

He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. “Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.

“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.

“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.

Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.

Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.

“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.

“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”

“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.

“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.

“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”

[gguk-n]

The Exception (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- 4 times Max let y/n get away with whatever she wanted and 1 time he didn't.

I just have so much love for maxie and I wanna show it so it came out as this. Hope you like it!! I hope maxie is only loved tbh

Max was very young when he had moved to a Netherland. If someone asked him when it was, he'd probably never be able to tell. But he could tell you about the annoying neighbours he had growing up. Yes, he did spend most of his time karting and didn't have the time at home or in school like normal kids his age would but the fleeting moments spent at that house in Netherland left behind fond memories that he can look back and only because of a certain little girl with chubby cheeks and two identical braids on either side of her head who had made quite a place in his life. Jos wasn't very happy with Max wasting his time entertaining those kids but he couldn't do much when the children's father was a tall bulky man who could take Jos out in one punch, insisted on letting the kids play together. The tall man had 3 kids Max noticed when he had dinner at their place for the first time; the oldest being the girl who we mentioned before followed by 2 younger brothers who seemed to love karting. They asked Max so many questions about it that they got scolded by their mother for ruining dinner for everyone but Max thought was cute because the youngest couldn't even pronounce karting but had a lot to say. Every time he would spend time with his neighbours, it would always be with the 2 young boys who wanted to learn how to kart better and become like Max like the younger one put it. Even now it makes Max laugh reminiscing about those days. They never really made it professionally though.

2008

Max and the 2 boys were playing around when their older sister asked if they would like to join her for a session of afternoon tea with Mr Whale and Miss Teapot. The brothers made a face of disgust and ran away from her, dejected she turned around when Max agreed. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly dragged him into her room and had him sit next to Mr Longneck, the giraffe. An hour later Max was found in Y/N's room with two pigtails if you could call them that on the top of his head, a tiara and the prettiest necklace Y/N owned. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. Y/N on the contrary looked pleased with her handy work. She thanked him for being a good and compliant customer and to come back again if he ever wanted to look pretty. It wasn't easy to get Max to do what you wanted except he couldn't say no to her puppy eyes. She even gave him a drawing of him in his kart saying that it would bring him good luck since she couldn't be there and placed her favourite bracelet on his hand.

If Y/N was to ask him about the bracelet, Max would say he lost it as soon as she gave it to him, but deep down in the watch drawer of Max's Monaco apartment sat a brightly neon pink bracelet with Y/N’s initials.

2014

Y/N had started highschool and remained the annoying self Max had come to love. Her over the top demeanor and affection to screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she spotted Max never failed to make him smile. Having joined Formula one this year, meant Max was way to busy to be home but Y/N seemed to never forget to text him regularly. She would ask him to get autographs of other drivers or souvenirs from different countries. It was a regular race weekend when Y/N texted Max asking him to explain how the engine in a go kart worked. In a split second Max was on call with her asking "why do you need that?" to which she replied "I'm doing a project on that. I even made a small scale replica of your kart Look here!!!" She exclaimed. "I just need to shrink you and place you inside it" Y/N laughed. Max told her not to worry and that he would text her the details in a hour or so. Actually it took a couple hours and Y/N was starting to get agitated and called him back. Max replied with a almost done and smiled at her. He had literally written her entire report for her and sent it to review. Y/N almost screamed when she saw the assignment. She thanked Maxie for doing this for her and that she owed him her life. Max was just happy to be of help, he told himself more than he told her because who stays up till 5 in the morning on a race weekend doing someone else’s project.

He kept the small scale replica of his Kart on the mantle above the fireplace if anyone wanted to know what happened to the kart.

2018

Y/N was freshly 18, so getting drunk was the only thing on her agenda. On a night out, she was so drunk that no one could get her to move because she wanted her Maxie and would only leave with Maxie, she enunciated. Her friend was able to open up Y/N phone and thankfully find a Maxie in her favourite contacts. She called the number to be met with a groggy but worried voice. "Hi! This is Y/N's friend Kate speaking. Am I speaking with a....maxie?" she said tentatively. Max let out a sigh while rubbing his eyes, "Yes, this is Max speaking." "Can you come pick Y/N up?" She asked hesitantly followed by, "She won't leave with anyone but you apparently." Max was already out of bed and near the door when he said "I'll be there in 10, where are you guys at?" She sent him the location and waited for 'maxie'. Nothing could've prepared them for this. They had thought Maxie was a friend, a boyfriend maybe even a neighbour; they did not think Maxie was Max Verstappen, F1 driver for Redbull racing. He apologised for the inconvenience and crouched down to Y/N level who seemed to have realised that he was here. She cupped his cheeks and giggled while turning his head to the crowd of people standing, "Look, this is my Maxie." Hearing Y/N say my maxie made his heart beat faster then it should've, he admits but that girl had a tight hold on his heart and he couldn't really do much about it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Max asking him to carry her since her legs felt like mush. Max gladly carried her back to his car, as he fastened her seat belt she asked him to take her back to his place since her parents would probably disown her if she come in drunk for the 6th time this week. Max looked shocked and asked her to stop drinking so much since it wasn't good for her. All Y/N could mumble was that the alcohol made the pain in her heart bearable. This broke Max's heart. Who would dare hurt his precious little angel, if he met that guy he was so dead, Max thought. Little did he know that guy was the one driving her back home.

Y/N was a nuisance when drunk, she reminded him of the little girl he had befriended when he moved here. She wouldn't listen to anything he asked her to do that night until he agreed to let her do make up on him which he would gladly agree to, real or not.

2022

Y/N had recently graduated and was looking for a place to stay. It was one of those nights after a fruitless apartment hunt Y/N facetimed Max. He looked very comfortable in his sim racing chair in his luxurious apartment in Monaco having moved recently. "Maxie" the younger girl sighed. "Meisje, what's the problem?" came a concerned voice. "I can't seem to find a decent apartment, I've been at it for months now." she said. Max offered to help her find the right place and Y/N started listing out all the things she wanted in her apartment which was sounding a lot like Max current apartment which was true, that was Y/N's dream apartment currently; after seeing it a couple months ago when she had visited him as a housewarming surprise and even held a party for him. "You can move to Monaco, the house you're looking for is here" Max said. After a long pause Y/N replied with a chuckle, "I don't make formula 1 money. I'm too broke to afford a house here. In Monaco, I'd have to sell my organs to afford a place there." As if it was the most obvious thing, Max offered her to stay at his place and look for a job here.

The allure of Monaco was too much and Y/N was able to thankfully find a job there so that she wouldn't be completely dependent on Max which he wouldn't have minded. Max never let her pay rent, he'd always tell her to cook good food and that was rent sorted.

2023

It was the night of the Abu Dhabi grand prix. Max had just won his third WDC so him and his friends decided to go out to celebrate, Y/N included. The night carried on as usual, Max not touching much of the alcohol since Y/N decided to down drinks like a thirsty person. She was now in the middle of the dance floor making herself familiar with Lando's crotch, much to Max's dismay. He made his way to her and led her away from Lando while she shouted at him to let her go. They were now stood in the quieter part of the club but you could still hear the music blasting. Y/N looked visibly annoyed at being taken away from the dance floor. "You are drunk, you'll regret it tomorrow." Max said. "That's for sober me to deal with. Drunk me just wants to forget about everything and having an eventful night with a guy would do just the trick." she said. Max winced at the words and held her arms so that she could steady herself. "I don't wanna feel like this," was this the alcohol giving her the confidence, "the guy I've been in love with for ages can't seem to see me as a woman. I've been trying for years now. If I walked out naked, I'm sure he wouldn't even be phased." she sounded dejected. "Any guy would want you, Meisje." Max whispered. "But not the one I do" she stepped closer, enough that their breaths mingled. The woman in front of him was driving Max mad, had she not been drunk he would've shown her how much any man would want her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before saying, "He's so dumb, can't even see the woman in front of him." The statement felt oddly targeted. "You know, he's a 3 time world drivers champion and he doesn't even get that I love him so much." she said while looking into his eyes. "You're in love with me?" Max exclaimed. "I have been since the day you let me make pigtails on your hair but thanks for realising now." she replied sarcastically. "You're drunk, you don't know what your saying" Max replied. "Well, sober me would never tell you this but I love you Max Verstappen. So much that you make my heart beat faster and my chest swell when you look at me. I think about marrying you and having a family with you, but you think I'm joking." she declared. Max couldn't help but smiled, "Tell me all of this in the morning when you're sober so that I can tell you that I love you too schat and then I can finally kiss you." "You can kiss me now" Y/N made a kissy face and eagerly leaned in. Max shook his head and carried her back to the hotel room.

Y/N indeed remembered everything and the first thing she did even though she wreaked of alcohol was finally kiss those soft pink lips.

this is just brain rot at this point. hope you liked it

[theloveinc]

jo togame x reader - on possessiveness

(warning: she/her reader, pet names, alcohol, etc.)

-

Jo Togame has quite an odd way of showing possession over you.

He is, of course, always happy to fight with his fists when need be, but unlike some of his… friends, he doesn’t usually feel the need to use violence to show others that you belong to him.

In fact, if anyone asked you about it, you’d probably answer that you’d never even seen your boyfriend jealous—that even when you’re shaking your butt when you’re out with him in a skimpy little number, he’s cool as a cucumber, just like normal.

But that’s not entirely true, as there is a little something he pulls when he notices others paying attention to you the way only he ever should—

“Baby?”

Togame presses his hand against the warmth of your lower back, slow to let it creep down to the curve between your hip and ass as he approaches from behind. You’re leaning against the bar of the busy club, smiling sweetly at the bartender who’s currently adding extra cherries to only one of the two drinks you’ve ordered, now starting to sweat on the lacquered wood where they wait to be handed off.

You are a sight for sore eyes. In Togame’s mind, you always are, but there’s something about tonight especially that has you glowing and has seemingly everyone noticing. If he were anyone aside from your boyfriend, or he was two inches deeper in a nicer mood, it’s possible he wouldn’t be so … irked by the attention you’re receiving… but something about the way this stranger appears to be gunning for more than just a tip doesn’t sit right in his stomach.

“Jo!” you turn away from the show easily, smile going from cheeky to something soft when your eyes lock with his. You’re quick to abandon your previous conversation, full of what Togame observed were comments made for batting beautiful eyelashes and forcing giggles, and lean into him, standing on your tippies to press a kiss to the side of his mouth as a version of hello. “What are you doing? I was just about to find you.”

You’re not just a pretty thing, you’re a sweet thing too, and it’s clear you had no intention of finding yourself swept up into a conversation with the man mixing your drink, but nonetheless, anyone who runs tabs at a bar should be able to recognize when the only reason someone keeps responding to their frivolous comments is because they’re too polite to cut short a conversation.

“Is everything okay, my love?” you ask, as though it’s clear something is on Togame’s mind, and you thread your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his scalp to draw his attention back to you.

He has to suppress a grin thinking about the little show he’s giving your new friend.

“I’m not sure,” he responds, letting the words settle one by one, watching as worry starts to weigh down your brow. Though he’s more intent on keeping your focus away from anyone other from him, the bartender’s annoyed expression does not go unnoticed out of the corner of his eye. “The music’s making my head hurt, thinkin’ I might head out soon?”

“Oh no!” you suck in a sharp breath, your lips tightening in a concerned frown as you move to press the back of your hand to his forehead, “want me to come with?”

“It’s okay, baby. Stay. Enjoy yourself, alright?” he presses a kiss to your pout, maneuvering your hand from his face to hold to his chest. He milks the moment, pulls away from the lights, the noise, and the people to drink you in, and remind any animals who think they have a chance at something more than just your courtesy that they don’t, and never, ever will.

“No, no,” you break the silence, dropping your hands from him only to make sure your tiny purse is still attached to the chain hanging from your shoulder before linking his arm with yours, “I’m going. No reason to stay, anyway. Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

(Togame can imagine what will happen when you're home: you'll run him a hot and herbal bath, he'll coax you into the water with him, and the steam will get you both get light headed enough for the medicinal to turn into something more erotic—and by the time the both of you wake up tomorrow, naked, limbs sticky and tangled, he'll be perfectly refreshed.)

“Miss, your drinks?”

You’re half away step away when the bartender calls, but without letting go, you throw a couple hundred yen behind you without even a cold look back.

"You can dump them, sorry.”

And while you take the lead to the road, Togame looks over his shoulder and grins.

She picked me.

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞

ty to @casualvanilla for this idea

author's note: tysm for all the requests guys! sorry that it's taking so long but I'm having rlly bad writers block rn. also, i literally hate the ending of this sm but i couldn't think of how else to finish it.

warnings: none (600+ words)

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

Work had been hectic lately, for both you and George, so when he proposed putting everything aside and spending the night together, just the two of you with no distractions, you were more than happy to oblige.

You were in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches on your makeup, when George appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin against your shoulder.

"You almost ready?" He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your neck.

You nodded in response, setting down your brushes and turning to face him with a smile. Leaning up on your toes, you peppered kisses across his face, feeling him flush beneath your lips. When you pulled away, his pale skin was scattered with vivid red lipstick stains. Giggles spill from your mouth, causing George to scrunch his face in confusion. Wordlessly, you moved out the way of the mirror, letting him see the marks you left.

"Y/n! Oh my god!" He gasped, swatting playfully at your shoulder, "Get this off me right now!"

His reaction just made you laugh harder. The blond man frowned, trying to be annoyed with you but he couldn't help but laugh with you. Once you had calmed down you complied, grabbing some makeup remover and cotton pads then gently wiping his face clean.

"There you go, handsome as ever."

"I better be," he grumbled, "now we better go or we'll be late."

—♡—

"I'm sooo full" you groaned, throwing yourself face down on the bed.

George chuckled, entering the bedroom after you. "Well, you shouldn't have ordered dessert then love."

You pouted in response, "but it was so good though."

He nodded in agreement, sitting next to you on the bed and taking his shoes off. "You gonna sleep like that?"

Standing back up, you took of your shoes and placed them next to George's. You went to unzip your dress, before realising that you couldn't reach. Before you even had to ask him, you felt the warmth of George's hand on your back as he pulled your zip down and moved back to allow you to step out of the fabric.

"Can I borrow a shirt?" You asked, even though you already knew the answer. He told you that you could, so you went to grab it from the drawer then went to the bathroom so you could finish getting ready for bed

A few minutes later, you emerged out of the bathroom, with your skincare complete and hair tied up into a messy bun. You noticed George had changed too, as he was now in sweatpants and a clean shirt. Since it was still quite early, you two had decided to watch a movie, so he was currently lying in bed, looking on the tv for something to watch.

"Hey," he smiled at you. "What do you wanna watch?"

You grinned cheekily back at him. "Um, how about... w-"

"Don't you dare say wild child!"

"Why not?"

George rolled his eyes at your dramatic pout, but he couldn't suppress his smile. "We always watch that movie," he pointed out.

"Because it's good!" You argued, grabbing the remote from him and searching it up on Netflix

He just shook his head with a laugh, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his side. Shuffling slightly to rest your head on his chest, you pressed play on the movie.

Before long, George heard soft snores and looked down to see you asleep. He gently kissed your forehead before turning the tv off, drawing you closer and closing his eyes, finally succumbing to sleep himself.

[moonieandi]

corners and walls | silco x f!reader  

Summary: the grief of loss shakes apart the friends of four, leaving silco and her to pick up the pieces of the complex affliction between them

warnings (TW): slight spoilers for arcane season ii//act ii, swearing, mentions of death, alcohol mentioned, general trauma, violence (implied)

tags: established relationship, honestly for once NOT dumbasses, angst… comfort?, affection

notes: i think this is a oneshot. Im not completely sure (im kinda maybe sure) that this is a oneshot… im allowed to write about my interests! (pt 11 of snapshots in my drafts rn its a complicated ch im wrestling w myself about posting)--- but im in arcane brainrot…. I love dissecting it and unfortunately for all of u i LOVE silco……… hes a questionable character…… but the way the action of season ii is going i need something familiar in my life while looking at (doomed) victor/jayce (heavy sighs) — if u don’t wanna read i understand this is a moonie want (and need) — love youuuuuu <3 

word count: 2.6k

| masterlist | 

There were corners of her he did not know. 

Folds of her linens and clothes he moved to uncover in the past months. She was quiet, silent in the visage he had drawn of her, but stubborn (something familiar) and something of great consistency to him. 

It was hard to quantify her, easier to dismiss. She was not special. Of common stature and of common shape. Plain colors adorned her closet, plain and even temperament, plain tone, and of plain face. 

That is what they would say when uncovering her past. Now that she was part of this mess, part of the mess he had sheltered her into (part of the mess Vander had shepherded her into). The dream of a larger nation, of overarching architecture and structure and reasoning. A voice, they figured between the four of them, a voice that would listen and learn and speak loudly in the face of the injustices they had survived and crawled through. 

But he figured they would only comment on her appearance, perhaps. Of her coal stained shoes and the dirt under her picked nails. 

They would not know the woman behind it all. Would not know of Felicia either (now). Not with the violence inflicted on the bridge. Not with the weapon staining his hand (an accident he had sworn to them both). 

He knew of the woman before him though, knew of her mind and spite and grit. Knew of her work and the lengths and dredges she had come from. Knew of her grief. Something he sequestered in the back of his mind. Survive survive survive. She had once compared Zaun’s residents to roaches. Unkillable, dirty, and strikingly annoying. She meant it in an endearing way, she had to. She was a roach too. 

It was a different kind of insect, a different animal, that drove him to draw a gun on the woman he loved so dearly. He wouldn’t have thought to wrap a finger around the trigger if it weren’t for the feral instinct of preservation. He could discern danger like a sense, it came as easily as smell, as sight, as breathing. But it had him stuttering now, seeing her on the other end of his warranted violence (was it warranted?). 

She was a structure of poise, like usual. Another reason to keep the gun drawn to her. The silence in her acceptance of his decision. He knew though, that if they both survived the grief of his mistake she wouldn’t forgive him- never forgive him for registering her as a threat. How could she be? 

He had been waiting for the retaliation. He hid away in corners and along dark walls in wait. He waited for Vander to seek a sort of violence in him, the last violence the large man would ever do. Seek blood in the name of their shared friend, for the orphans he made. He was sick, sick with the thought of it most days. But composed, up until this point. Up until Vander used his last facilities to shake his roach of a mind from the corners of the nation they once dreamed of in the depth of caves and between stone-cold walls. She was it, was that thing that would make him waver, and he knew that. 

She had her palms raised, hands shaking. But composed, as usual. It was hard to shake the structure of her. She was rarely surprised by violence, much less the plights of men. She wasn’t quick to anger, wasn’t weepy at the thought of destruction, and stood as strong as cavernous walls, sturdy against the infrastructure of the Undercity. He admired that, he loved that. 

She had only shaken a total of three times, in front of him. Only bent her head and neck and bowed before him in emotion all of three times. Imprinted in his mind, the cascade of her hair, the shaking of her shoulders, and the sightless grief in her eyes. 

The first was the first time he truly saw her. She consumed herself with work. Whether it be their laborious job in the mines or the turmoil of finding justice in an unjustified upbringing. She had broken one day, that very first day. 

She was a sightless, unknowing girl in the crowd. But something about her hunched structure had struck him differently that day. He was younger then, only twelve. He knew of empathy but had yet to experience it. But he was shackled by it then, that day, when he first saw her. Hands bloody through her miners' gloves, shoes holey from the trek to and fro. She was younger, by a year or two. It was not unusual to find distressed children in the Undercity, perhaps more common than people would like to comment. Children, like they were, grew along the walls and innards of the city, meshed into stony hallways and bridges, faded into noise and paint of the background. It should go unnoticed by most, a crying child. But it struck him differently, then. 

The second, the day she confessed unfounded feelings. Years in the making, the dredges of the relationship between them. Even now, he could not comprehend the strings that were strapped between them. It was more than stuttered words and whispered confessions. It felt undying between them, an acceptance. 

She had been confused at the progression of their relationship, as was he. No reference to be found between them of a structure to hold their relationship. They took it in stride, took and molded their wants between them to breathe easily. Wind through a metal chime, ultimately peaceful, but prone to knots. Their strings overlaying, knotting, tightening. He had never thought to unweave them when he fled. The tug of knots and her heart led her back to him anyway. 

The third time would be now. The shake of her hands and the draw of her legs. The shimmering tears rounding along her chin. She was beautiful. She never liked when he said so, but she was captivating. He didn’t enjoy seeing her cry, it unsettled a deep dark part of him. One he would crush and stamp down, that domineering possessive part of him. He thinks of drawing the gun to his foot, squeezing the trigger at his incompetence and attitude to make her cry (this was the second time now, he swore, two strikes in the threads between them). 

“Please.” She never pleaded. “Please Silco, come home.” The grit of her teeth against a stutter, the shuddering of her breath in the cavities of her chest. Grief, unfounded. 

“You know I can’t, dear.” Too quick for his liking, he responded. He had backed himself into a dark corner, grown leaves into walls, and hid in shadows of the Undercity bridges now. It would have to be without her though, he grieved again. He had sunk so far into the stones, in the murky water of the Undercity, it wouldn’t be safe for her to follow. 

“I’m sorry.” An afterthought. A forethought. What he apologized for was lost between the notch of string on his belt and the thread leading back to her shirt. Was it for Felicia? His grief? Or was it for leaving her? (Was it for the children? For the young girls that remember his visage in Felicia’s home? For the blue-haired pixy girl that asked for him between shattered bombed dreams? The girls she shushed and rocked and cried to sleep?) 

She liked to think it was for all of it. Her stupid heart forgave him anyway. 

She was far from naive, far from gullible. 

She knew of men and violence and dark waters by the ripe age of nine. Something she would teach Felicia’s daughters now too. It was why she lived, why she breathed still, her unwillingness to bend and snap her neck in the face of shadows and men. But she had forsaken that for him, craved a subjugation in his waters, and wished to follow him up ivy walls and read the ink scrawled on his stupid notebooks. Wanted to breathe life into his ideas and into Zaun. She’d follow him into the dark, knowingly leaving the unsaught dawn behind her. 

She only bent because she knew the power between them was equal though. She was sure of exactly three things when it came to Silco. 

The first being that he was flippantly deep. That he thought not in breaths but in paragraphs. That he could not speak but write for hours on end, that he could comprehend and listen and swallow and accept, and that he did not react in haste. He was full of purpose and determination. It was more than endearing, almost blindingly inspiring that he wished for not better but only ever the best. 

The second being that he was a perfectionist. That his scripture was scrawling and hard to read, but comprehensive. That he enjoyed messes only because he enjoyed the meticulousness of planning and cleaning up. That he loved the structure of homes and corners of houses and the craft of cleaning something that was truly his. 

The third being that he loved of equal measure, that she was most sure of, could recognize in the dead of the night, in the depth of caves. That he was severely serious when it came to the strings strung between them, and not because of the disorder of them. He would have color-coded, would have untwisted knots, and lengthened rope if he wanted to. But that was the truth of it, that he was the farthest from a perfectionist when it came to love. That he didn’t measure distances and didn’t note words between them, because he threw away the scale of them long ago. Pulled her close, twisted words between them, and sang and hummed to her in crooks of her neck. That he wished for her continued safety above anything, and far above his own. She knew for a fact, was sure of it as she was of the red-pitched brick outside the bar. It was as cumbersome as the smoggy sky, but as easy to swallow as any dark liquor. That he loved her in dark corners that made him. 

But there were dark corners of her he did not know of yet. 

That the consuming grief of her long-time friend sent her into a rage, that the stabilization and measurements between them fell and broke when he was not there for her to confide in. She wished above all else that he had stayed, that he had faced Vander’s anger. She had stayed, breathed, and swam the storm of their mutual friends' grief. Stayed for the children and for their grief also. Did that make him a coward?

“For what.” She asks, the caverns of her lungs shaking now. Her hands weak, falling to her side. “Don’t say that, don’t say that if you don’t know what for.” It was senseless and miscalculated of him to say sorry. He is so purposeful, so full of preserverations. She just wished he did not feel he had to preserve himself in the face of her. 

The gun shakes now, dropping to his side, his finger poised along the trigger still. The depth of the scarcity of her image still shook him. It had been weeks, what felt like months since he’d seen her face. 

He had seen her in crowds, seen the children marking her frame and clutched in her arms. It shook him to not wake up to her face anymore, much less her smell or her frame or her voice. Her face though, the visage of tears and the weakness of her arms, awoke something in him. 

He had to remember himself, why he left. To build a nation, to structure a future for her. For the new shadows of Felicia that followed in her wake now. 

“Everything.” He meant. “For everything, my love.” 

She sighs deeply, tired. Her head tilting to the left on instinct. Powder made a home in the crook of her neck most nights now. 

It was striking to see him. She dreamed of him between nightmares and dreamless sleep. Dreamed of waking up to him, of the quirk of his lips and the crook of his nose. The smell of him and the warmth of his embrace. The fold of his jacket around her shoulders and the breath of a kiss along her brow. When she woke she could not decide the ups and downs of walls, couldn’t decide if it was a tortuous nightmare to be awake or to be asleep. 

It strikes her when he steps forward from the shadowed corner she had backed him into. His hair is longer, his eyes deeper and darker, his clothes caked with dirt. She thinks to be insistent again. Thinks of bringing him home despite Vanders’ anger, despite the grief they shared between them. But wasn’t Silco grieving also? 

He approaches with stuttering steps. Unsure of the length of strings between them, grasping her to tie her tight again to him, when he reaches for the curve of her cheek and jaw. 

“Don’t cry.” He commands for the third time in her life, sweeping his thumb and fingers along her wet cheeks. She shutters around it, breathing between the mess of string and space between them. 

“Good.” He hums, bringing his fingers to the nape of her neck, curving her neck up in revelation. He bends his own in subjugation to her, curving his shoulders and bowing to her visage to meet familiarly between them. Curving his slight frame and lips against her own warmth, the common parts of her beat faster at the affection. It burst between them, the movement of endearment and familiarity. She forgot about this above all, missing the plainer parts of life you don’t know to miss until they are gone. 

She’d miss him again and again, would string along strings and set fires in dark paths and along walls searching for him. They’d say goodbye now, and say goodbye again once she traced him back down to the cobblestone he had slid into and out of. She’d look for him in architecture and in the children of the Undercity, she’d swear and kiss away it all now, though. Anything to push off the knots between them, anything to stop a stuttering goodbye between them that was as inevitable as her own death. A thousand of them, these tiny goodbyes, she’d take though, if it meant he lived. 

Lived farther down below than she’s ever been. But then again, there were corners and foothills in her mind he did not know of, yet. 

[udidntseemelikethisshhhh]

No one asked but here you go some cute maybe a little suggestive Earth-42 Miles Morales headcanons, and a few blurbs 😌

WARNING ⚠️readers gender not specified, jealous behavior, guy with hot accent.

(Let me know if I missed any)

I have this huge urge to braid his hair 😭 (I’m I the only one??)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Earth!42 Miles X Reader Headcanons and Blurbs

“Wear what you want, I can fight” type guy but with a little twist. He would still get slight jealous that other people besides him get to see your attractive features (which they all are) but likes to see you smile so he sucks it up just for you

Will NEVER raise his voice at you, when you guys are in the middle of a silly fight no one yells, when you both get frustrated, you both walk away take deep breaths, think over the reason why you were fighting in the first place, then you guys stop and talk it out

Rio loves to bake/cook with you depending on what your good at

If you can’t do both she more than happy to help teach her future daughter in law

Shopping with or for you is a MUST

Loves resting his tired little head on your chest, but around Rio your shoulders, and Aaron nothing (he gotta look tough yk, no sappy bullshit around the big man)

Though he doesn’t seem like it, he’s a big whiner, and when he does he drags out the word Ma

Loves teasing you when you accidentally say something that can be unintentionally dirty

You see it, you like it, you want it, Miles buys it

I see Miles as the type of guy to go on calming car rides while listening to music for fun

He definitely listens to Rema (even if he can’t understand him)

If you draw, he will absolutely just lean on your chair and watch as you hum along to a tune in your head

Tries so hard to make sure you don’t know he’s Prowler

Eventually tells you because he knows he shouldn’t keep secrets (husband material)

When he told you, you were shock and need some time to get used to it but loved him the same no matter what

Later would say things to him like “you know, that kind of makes you more hotter babe?”

Likes to hold you so tight in bed that you have to beg him to let go so that you don’t pee your pants

Calls you unique versions of your first/ last name to seem more special

When Aaron meets you he was shocked

He didn’t expect to see such an understanding and nice people to be with Miles

Invited to all family events (by Rio)

Practically know everyone from the Morales family

Your friends and family are shocked when they found out you were with someone like Miles

Got used to it and love him, but not as much as you

Matching shoes everyday, and if you guys can’t see each other for some reason he will text to ask which Jordan’s your planning to wear so that he could match

When your flustered will call you Mami, or Mi amor to make it worse

Loves to lay on your thighs while you play with his hair

(If you have siblings) before they officially met him they would tease you when they walk into your room unannounced to see you looking like a tomato with your phone to your ear

Will whisper “good morning/goodnight Ma” in his groggy voice bc he knows it makes go🥴

Loves finding new matching wallpapers with you every two weeks

If someone is looking at you, he will gently but swiftly grab your chin and give you a kiss, even if he doesn’t like PDA

Rio brags about you to all her coworkers, and how she’s “So lucky that my son found someone as amazing as [Name]”

When Miles annoys you, all you have to do is walk to the living room/ kitchen, point upstairs, and she will yell at Miles to quit bothering you

Loves when you patch him up because when your done you kiss each and every spot making him wanna get hurt even more

Would kill for you “Ma, not saying I will, but I would if it came down to it” in which you would say “Someone complimenting me is not ‘coming down to it’ you understand?”

When you roll your eyes at him just has to be like “do that again I dare you” and you shut that down real quick

Folds when he hugs you from behind and vice versa

Finished this at 11:20 pm, so if it’s not to your liking to bad bc at least most of this stuff is completely original 😌✋🏽

[squerlly]

flames of desire chapter 5: bonding exercise

Alastor x (f! bunny reader) -Fluff- chapter 1

your POV:

through out my time here in hell I have grown accustomed to the musty hot atmosphere of the underworld and the loud mornings of screaming, gun shots, and road rage, its hell after all and there technically isn't any rules. me and angel hang out a lot more, behind his sex jokes and playful demeaner hes a great friend. husk and I are cool I suppose, according to him I'm more tolerable. Nifftys a bit crazy and energetic but I enjoy helping her clean sometimes, but one person that's been on my mind a lot is Alastor. hes always watching me, I catch him staring at me with that weird smile, I wonder if his face hurts from smiling all the time...none of my business what he does I just wish he wasn't so eerie. I was in the lobby this morning when Charlie called us over for a "bonding exercise", seeing everybody gathered in there seats I sit on the couch next to angel, "good morning everybody thank you for comingggg, I would like to have you all here for a little bonding time yayy!!!..." the silence was defiantly loud... "uhm- well I though we could all do something fun like drawing!" standing behind her vaggie comes out with paper, markers, and crayons "oooo colors" niffty giggles "what's does this look like kinder garden?" "angel please try and at least participate" letting out an annoyed grumble he agrees "fineee..." "great! were all going in partners and you will draw each other, that sound fun right!!?" oh no... "charlies with me, husks with angel, and Alastors with y/n, nifftys can uhm..." "oh oh can I be the judge!!!" "sure..." "you gotta be fucken kidding me..." "aww cmon whiskers I'm not that baddd~" walking to there partners I turn to see Alastor sitting on the arm chair looking at me with a wide grin on his face, "fuck me..." I grumble walking over to sit on the floor beside him "well my dear looks like its just me and you" "yeah... me and you" grabbing two pieces of papers and some crayons "I cant even draw..." "oh don't worry I'm sure you will do just fine!" "why am I doing this again..." "cheer up dear this is supposed to be fun after all, I cant be that hard to draw" "yeah your right just need two colors" scribbling on the paper I start at the base of his face, doodling his creepy smile and red hair, looking up I see him studying me curiously "what's the matter, am I hard to draw?" I say smugly "not at all dear your quite easy to draw" ouch, thanks...

Alastors POV:

I never really focused any time on things such as art, yes I can cook and maybe play the piano but drawings not one of my few good skills although ill give it a shot. I would have never guessed I would be sitting here doing one of charlies silly little projects, attempting to draw y/n I look at here for a while, this is the closest I have ever really been next to her, my she really is small it makes me want to squeez her tiny little body, her head could fit in my hand easily. I have noticed a few things while observing her, her ears twitch when she's focused on things like now, her pink bunny nose twitches when she's scared, and her fluffy tail wags when she's exited or annoyed what a strange individual...

your POV:

"ok guys once your done with your drawings you will show them off to your partners!!", as a few minutes pass by I have finished my drawing and well I'm quite disappointed in myself, man I should have taken art class in high school "I finished if your ready to show them" hell no... "I- I'm done but I don't think I wanna... "oh I'm sure its not that bad" giving the drawing one last glance I turn the page I show him the drawing facing away to hide what little dignity I had left. hearing a quiet static buzz noise I look back up seeing him looking at the drawing with a questionable face "I know its badd!!!" "w-well I wouldn't say that dear its just..." "just say its bad!" "its interesting" "well what does yours look like?" turning his page my jaw drops to the floor, what is this creepy deer man not good at "its not my best work but-" "are you kidding me Al this is good!" standing up I grab the drawing, it was in crayon but it looked just like me. pausing I try to tone down my excitement seeing alastor wide eyed from my reaction "I'm glad you like it dear" "what cant you do" "well I did say I was a man of many talents but drawing isn't one of them" "do you uhh mind if I keep this..." "not at all dear~" "you don't have to keep mine you can just throw it-" "nonsense its mine isn't it?" "yes.." "then I will keep it". for once he seemed to have a genuine smile on his face, not some creepy ass smile, its kind of nice...

Alastors POV:

I don't know why but I wanted to keep her silly little drawing, its...cute?. it looks nothing like me but its quite amusing seeing her all embarrassed. I was surprised to see she liked my drawing, her eyes lit up with a small smile on her face, it feels good to know my work is appreciated even in the... strangest things it gives me a sense of pride, I might hang it in my radio tower...

your POV:

looking at everybody else I saw Charlie bouncing on her heels looking at a little doodle vaggie made how cute~, husk made a sloppy doodle of angel and angel just drew himself. niffty was running around looking at others drawings, eventually she got around to ours, climbing on my shoulder she looks at Alastors drawing "ooooOooo you look so cute in the picture!!" I smile a bit "thanks niff" grabbing her off my shoulder I set her down "well that's the end of the exercise, how was it!" "ehh it wasn't to bad" "it was alright" "whatever...im going back to the bar" Charlie puts on a little smile "well do one again next week, maybe we could make cookies together or do all about ME's oh oh!! what about-" "ok hon slow down" "sorry". this was nice, hell isn't that bad, at least not here. better than home...

hey guys!!! I was supposed to release this earlier but I'm a little sick right now from the cold weather but I refuse to let you guys down! I made this chapter a little longer than usual so I hope you guys loved this cute chapter as much as I did, love you guys have a good day/night

-squerlly

for more content or chapter please click this masterlist

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

can I req yandere Ben x reader moodboard and headcanons? I feel like he watches you through your computer camera

-🦇 anon

Summary: Yandere Ben drowned x reader hcs

Genre: Angsty-ish?? nothing too bad though

Warnings: Yandere themes, so stalking, murder, obsession, etc.

A/n: 🦇 is no longer here, so if you wanna take this anon name feel free to do so! Also AGH I LOVE WRITING YANDERE STUFF

Credits: Ben drowned- Creepypasta, Divider- benkeibear, Drawing of Ben- shatteredankles (instagram), Other pictures- Pinterest

Yandere Ben drowned hcs

The thing with Ben is, he's so nonchalant with everything he does, it takes a lot to get him to show any emotion

So when he gets obsessed, he gets OBSESSED

He has a knack for finding people, switching between random people's webcams trying to find a specific person for a mission

But as he mindlessly clicks through different lists of different people, pulling up any names that intrigue him, he finds you

Immediately he is drawn to you, he doesn't know why, but he is

And when he sees your face, so focused on the task at hand, he knows he needs you

He doesn't know how he needs you, or how he even thinks he's going to go about acquiring you, but something about you entrances him

After his death he's so used to feeling numb and disconnected from the world, both physically and emotionally

But seeing you there, it makes him feel things again, as if he were alive again

And he doesn't want to stop this feeling

So he stares and watches you through your webcam for hours, his prior mission being totally forgotten

That is, until you suddenly yawn, stretch, and turn your computer off

He jumps a little at the sudden blank screen, and quickly rushes to see if you have your phone on

Frantically typing and clicking, he breathes a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding when he finally finds your phone and looks through it's camera

Even though its screen isn't on, the phone itself is, so he can still see you

That is, until you plug it in and set it on the nightstand beside you

Then all he sees is the ceiling

He sighs and rubs his eyes before putting your phone's window on another monitor and going back to the task at hand

Once done, he begins to research you a little more (making sure to have windows open for any cameras you may have in your house)

He learns your home address, where you go to work, your full legal name, social security number, interests, hobbies, etc

By the time you wake up and begin getting ready for the day, he feels like he has known you for years instead of just a few hours

When he sees your phone camera start to move he gets so excited, hurrying to bring the window over to his main monitor and watch you as you go about your morning routine

He watches you nonstop for weeks straight, only stopping when you go to sleep and he can no longer see you, but even then, he fills that time with researching you or scrolling your socials

It is only when Jeff is in his room a week later that he even thinks of the possibility of being something with you

Jeff is annoyed by the fact that all Ben's been doing for a solid month now is obsessing over you, so with a big groan he says "If you like them so much, go get em! What're they gonna do, say no? You're a ghost man!"

Only then does Ben realize that he is actually dead, and can basically have you all he wants

He doesn't have to watch you through cameras, because he can make himself invisible and spy on you that way instead

If you got scared, it's not like you could hurt him in any way, because you'd phase right through him

And best of all, if anyone tries to interfere with you and him, he could easily scare them off

So with this new knowledge, he sets off in search of you

Which of course, isn't far considering he already knows exactly where you live

And every day for months, he follows you around everywhere you go, never more than a foot away from you

Your friends have picked up on something strange, and are very uncomfortable being around you now

Whenever they're around you, they get a weird feeling in their gut telling them that something isn't right, oftentimes your hair randomly just starts floating as if someone is playing with it, and your apartment is always just so cold....

This being said, you are now very isolated and lonely

Ben sees his chance in this, and begins leaving you little gifts, things he knows you'd like

Once you get accustomed to the gifts, he begins leaving letters, slowly revealing who he is, and his love for you

At first you are just happy to have someone that likes you despite how uncomfortable everyone seems to be around you

Then it evolves into curiosity over the identity of this strange person

And then, you begin to feel the beginnings of a romantic interest starting to bloom for this stranger

It is only once you are obsessed with figuring out who he is, sometimes coming home and just begging into the air for them to reveal themselves, because you know they're with you somewhere, does he dare reveal himself

You are on your hands and knees, begging and pleading for him to just give you a hint as to who he is "I won't tell anyone" you promise

It is then that you feel the familiar cold chill go up your spine, and you know he is near

You don't speak or move, scared you'll upset him into silence in some way

You then hear a voice by your ear whisper "Cross your heart and hope to die?"

You gasp at the new information you have: a voice

"Yes" You whisper back

A hand begins to fade into view, and it comes to cover your mouth to stop you from screaming

You then feel a body form behind you, his other hand coming to rest on your hip, pulling you into his body

He's as cold as death and slightly translucent, and as you turn to look into a reflective surface, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, you are stopped when you feel him begin to nibble on your ear

"You'll get to see me soon, princess/prince. All you have to do is keep true to that promise"

And with that he fades away, as if he was never there

[hell-drabbles]

Satan 5

Summary: Another day, another glass to empty, another drunken haze to enjoy. Should you have taken Satan’s offer to let you bite him? Probably not, but you really wanted to draw some blood. Man, you really need to search for other ways to relieve stress.

(I really just have the urge to bite into flesh and draw out blood. Not even in a sexy way, I just want to do it. So here it is, Embittered Companion biting Satan, because I always felt that they would have a really weird relationship with him. Like, Satan likes being rag-dolled by them but doesn’t pounce like he would with Ra-on.)

It’s only right that, whenever angels have been successfully driven out of a section of Gehenna, that a party has to be had. It can’t all be business and battles down here. And who are you to complain at the mention of alcohol? It’s nice, it gives you a nice, hazy buzz and it makes the world, and the devils within it, more tolerable than usual.

Ice clinked in your glass, only a few drinks in because you despise hangovers more than anything. Ra-on has long since gone upstairs, probably getting railed and that’s fine. He’s not in an active battle-zone so he can do whatever the hell he wants. He still looked at you for permission to do so and you couldn’t help the twitch in your eyebrow as you nodded.

Satan was right next to you. Rare, considering he’d usually be right up there, participating in the probably orgy going on but no. He’s here, giving you some company as you both drank and watched the other devils party like the happy folks they are.

It’s nice, honestly, like a Halloween night at the nightclub you work at.

You should probably move, get a different chair, but you had a feeling Satan would just follow you, so you stayed. It’ll annoy you less.

Then Satan pushed his glass away, finally placing his undivided attention on you.

“Hey,” he said, as a stranger would towards someone they wanted to annoy. Even had that little playful tilt to his voice, like he’s ready to be a little shit and ruin your day.

“Hmm,” you replied, because if you didn’t say anything, he’d repeat himself until you exploded.

“You wanna bite me? I have a fresh neck, right here, free for the taking.” Satan tapped his skin, pressing against a vein as he grinned. “You like blood, right?”

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just bored.” There was no elaboration. A plain and simple reply, with little to no fire beyond the prankster energy he always holds. “I wanna see what your weak jaws can do. Can you leave any damage on me?”

And there it was again, the urk in your stomach, that specific pull on your organs that has your body itching to kick the nearest trashcan just to hear the sound of it. And as much as you wanted to sit back and down another glass, boredom was more painful.

“Alright, may as well.” You placed down your drink, grabbed Satan’s shoulder and shoved his body against the bar. There was hooting and hollering but honestly you can barely pay much attention to it. Not with this devil’s stare. “Do you even blink?”

And just to tick you off more, Satan did the slowest blink known to man. “I just did.”

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked it to the side. His head merely lolled, like he was ready to take a nap then and there. A non-blinking nap. What a freak.

You opened your mouth and let your teeth bite in the area between shoulder and neck. His flesh practically crunched under the force of your jaw. Blood dripped down past your lips and soaked right into the white fabric of his shirt.

Satan hissed in a breath and relaxed further, practically slumping against the bar table. You can hear the smile in his sigh. You let go and went for another bite further up his neck. His skin broke into goosebumps at the next gentle stream of blood. Your tongue stayed in the back of your mouth. You didn’t want to savor, you wanted to mark.

Satan’s body shivered before he reached over for his shot glass. To drink, as though you were mild entertainment at best. You grabbed it before he could down it and poured it over the open wounds. Satan’s jaw closed with a crack, shrinking from the sting and the ice slipping under his collar. Now he was thoroughly soaked.

“Haha,” Satan’s smile was wide with flushed cheeks, “you piece of shit.”

You emptied your own glass, finding that his blood added an interesting tone to your drink. “And you taste like shit.”

You craned his neck back and marked below his Adam’s apple. He lets you. You’ll probably regret this in the morning but eh, you don’t care. At least this won’t go anywhere beyond just you biting him.

What a weird devil he is, finding fun in you injuring him and never asking for anything in return.

[mooodyblue]

Lillyyyyy I just had an Idea, so what if when Elvis is filming his 68 comeback special he has to take the reader who is little with him and the colonel doesn’t like one bit of it so when Elvis is filming some back Tom Parker goes to his dressing room to pick on the reader and he says hurtful things to her like “you’re nothing but a gold digger” and other mean things to where she goes nonverbal and when Ep comes back into his dressing room he just sees the colonel picking with her hair ripping her drawing up and knocking everything she had over he even witnessed what the colonel told her. Ep barges in and starts yelling at the colonel and tells him to stay away from us but the colonel rolls his eyes and puts up an argument saying things like “she is distracting you! Can’t you see that, putting up this act. She’s acting like a full on baby.” You can finish the rest ❤️

ty for the request! this was super fun to write. i love writing anything that involves making the colonel out to be the most annoying man to ever exist 😈

pairing: 60s!elvis x little!gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

-> masterlist

you watched as elvis adjusted himself in his dressing room, dressed in black leather with his hair done up nicely. you knew how important this day was for him. he was beaming with nervousness and excitement and of course, you were as well. maybe too excited as you had gone down right before it was time to leave for nbc studios.

he didn’t mind if you were little, it didn’t bother him at all. you always understood that elvis has a job to do and that he can’t play with you every single second of the day—especially today of all days. 

but again, you were so excited for him. you loved watching him get dressed in all the different outfits, performing his heart out just like he should have been doing all these years. today he’d be filming in front of an audience which you knew he was horrified about, thankfully the cuteness he had to endure from a little you helped ease his mind off his stress and anxieties. 

he buttoned up his jacket, giving you a soft smile as he watched you doodle in a little notebook with your crayons, a messy bow in your hair from his attempt at doing your hair earlier that morning. elvis crouched down at the table, looking down at the notebook. “you're so talented, honey.” he grinned. “you gonna draw somethin’ for me for when i get out? a nice lil’ reward for daddy's hard work?” he teased, pinching your cheek as you let out a soft squeal. 

you nodded excitedly, “mhm!” you grinned. “‘m gonna draw daddy!” 

he let out a gasp, “really!” he placed a kiss onto your scalp, ruffling your hair a bit before standing up. “you make me look real good, baby. alright? i wanna see it when i finish up here.” 

“okay, daddy!” you nodded, “good luck!” 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you kept to yourself, music booming from outside his dressing room. you hummed and rocked to his voice as you continued to draw, making sure your drawing of elvis was as perfect as he hoped for. 

the faint sound of a door opening and closing filled your ears, followed up with the tapping of a cane. you lifted your head, looking at the larger and older man in front of you. 

now, you were well aware of how his manager strongly disapproved of you. but elvis never cared, it was his personal life–not the colonel's. he did make you nervous though, he didn't understand you being an age regressor. he didnt understand why you felt the need to act like a toddler, being helpless at your big age. 

you gulped looking up at him, watching how he hovered over you and looked at the array of crayons, markers and at the little gear you had around you. elvis brought along your sippy cup and a paci, as well as a few coloring books and toys to keep you entertained until he finished up with filming for the day.

“look at all this junk, this garbage.” the colonel spat, pointing at the table with his cane. 

you sat there silently, trying to keep your mouth shut just like elvis told you. you held your head down, going back to your drawing. 

he wasn't having it, scoffing at you and shaking his head. “you're a grown person, wearing bows in your hair and coloring like a toddler.” he shook his head. “you're dating elvis presley and this is what you choose to do in your free time?” 

“he still loves me.” you muttered. 

his cane met with your drawing, creating a circular stain of dirt right in the middle of the paper. “you're nothin’ but a gold diggin’ freak who acts like a baby to get what they want. now i demand you get up from this floor and go out there and support the man you supposedly love.” he said sternly. 

you looked up at him, tears in your eyes. he ruined your pretty drawing for elvis. if he wanted you out in the audience so badly, he would have asked. but he didn't, you were staying out of his way just as he wished. you certainly weren't a gold digger either. you didn't ask elvis to buy you nice things, it's just what he did. he didn't know what no meant, he did it out of the kindness of his heart and his love for you. 

words were formed in your brain to spit back at the old man in front of you, but nothing could come out. you had an ashamed look on your face, glancing down at the now-ruined drawing that sat on the table. 

“are you listening?” he asked, stomping his cane again. “get up!” 

you shook your head and stayed in your spot, refusing to get up for the colonel. but enough was enough for him, he ripped out the pretty bow that elvis had put in your hair just for you and stuck his cane under your arm, trying to force you up. that alone stood you up, cheeks now stained with tears as he picked up your drawing, ripping it in half in front of your very own eyes. 

outside the dressing room, there were loud cheers—the music finally coming to an end. maybe that meant elvis was coming back. 

foot steps were approaching, the sound of leather rubbing as he walked and laughter got closer and closer–finally coming to a halt once the door was opened. there stood elvis, turning his head to look at the scene in front of him. 

he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his face turned red with anger. “now, what in the goddamn hell are you doin’?!” he shouted, storming in and pushing his manager away. “you putin’ your hands on my baby? or am i just imagining things, huh?” 

the colonel stumbled back, scoffing again and shaking his head. “this child of yours has been nothing but a distraction!” he argued. “they’re doing nothing for you except sitting back here playing with toys all while you do the hard work. can’t you see you’re being used?”

“the hell i am!” he yelled, “what i do with them and what they do in their own time ain’t nobodies business but mine and theirs. not you.” he pointed his finger angrily at parker, his eyes full of anger and fury. 

“mr. presley, i will not stand here and watch them put on such an embarassing act for you. they’re acting like a baby! can’t you see the problem here?” 

“oh, i can see a problem alright.” elvis spat, putting his hands on his hips. he turned his head to you, looking at the sad look on your face. his heart broke seeing what that awful manager of his did to you, your hair ruined and the drawing he was so excited to see now torn apart on the floor. he walked over to you, rubbing your back as the colonel stood there still disgusted by the look of you. 

“you alright, baby?” he cooed, trying to calm you down. “what did that mean man do to my baby, hm?” you didn’t respond, instead burying your face in his neck as you let out a soft whine. he could tell when you couldn’t speak. one of your ways of dealing with stressful situations, especially when they happen so sudden, was to become unable to speak. he never pressured you to say a single word if you didn’t want to.

however, it angered him that you were bullied to the point of going nonverbal. he wasn’t going to stand for that. the pretty little face he saw before heading on stage looked so broken, he wanted that version of you back. 

he stepped up to his manager, getting right in his face. “i ain’t afraid of you.” he said lowly. “you stay the hell away from them. if i see you lay even a finger on them, you’ll pay. i’ll make sure of it.” he took a deep breath, looking back at you then at him. “get the hell out of my dressin’ room.”

it was clear he wanted to argue more, but he left with a scowl on his face—making his way out of the dressing room and slamming the door behind him. 

elvis sighed, turning to look at you before pulling you in for a hug. you sobbed on his shoulder, holding him tightly and never wanting to let go. “i know, baby.” he rubbed at your back again, cooing softly in your ear. “i’m sorry, honey. i’m so sorry.” he pulled away, pressing his lips against your forehead with a soft smile. “lets see that lil’ picture you drew for me.”

your eyes darted to the ripped-up drawing on the floor, a pout on your face as he walked over to pick it up. “nah, we can save it!” 

he put the ripped-up pieces together in front of his face, grinning widely. “see! look at that. you’re so talented, baby!” it was just a mere drawing of a stick figure, a poor attempt at drawing a white suit on white paper on the said figure. but in his eyes, it was the best thing he had ever seen.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Unbreakable Part 3 (Erik Killmonger x OC)

Warnings: none...

A/n: a little pre-Christmas gift. Enjoy!

Naja pushed the knife into his side, not enough to draw blood but just enough for him to feel it. 

“Yield.” 

“Aight girl, damn.” Naja smirked to herself before letting him go and sliding the knives back into their sheaths at her waist. “You don’t know the difference between friendly training ’n a real fight, do you?” 

“Well, this isn’t friendly so…” she shrugged, though she found her tone was not the entirely cold one she hoped it would be as she went to grab water. “And a person who thinks any fight is friendly is a person who won’t live long. No one out there is going to fight friendly so why would I train as such? Easy way to meet the ancestors faster if you ask me.” 

His response, not that he did not agree with it, shocked him. Every day, he realized just how truly different she was now. Or at least, how different she outwardly showed herself to be. But it could not have just been their break up, he reasoned. It had to be something else to harden her to this degree. 

“May I ask you something?” 

He lifted his head. “Well that would involve talking to me?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. Tell me how you keep beatin’ my ass and I’ll answer your question.”

Naja mulled over his compromise for a moment before nodding, the terms seemed logical and fair enough. She crossed back over the mat to stand in front of him.  

“It’s not that hard. You fight like most overconfident men, feel free to take offense to that, by the way.” He merely rolled her eyes. Her jabs seemed to roll off his back, which annoyed her to no end. “Like you’re the biggest and strongest, you merely throw your weight around with little skill. And you can get away with that when you are indeed the biggest and the strongest. Most people can’t overpower brute strength. But I’ve never been the strongest and never will be. Certainly not the biggest in a fight and likely also never will be. So I rely on skill and skill alone. And my other senses. It’s obvious you know how to fight and have skill, even if it is… lacking since you took the herb. Because you know only a handful of equally enhanced people could hope to beat you. You want to beat me? Focus on using your mind to beat me, not those giant muscles,” she gestured at his bulging biceps. 

“Damn, you good. And right. That first day I fought you was my first time fightin’ in a year. Maybe you can teach me some of those skills?” 

Naja stared at him for a few moments before acquiescing. She would never admit it to him but she enjoyed their afternoon sparring sessions. Though they had been at it for a week, this was the most they had spoken in their sessions. He did not push conversation on her even though she could always tell there was a question on the tip of his lips. But their time together steadily opened the release valve on the tension between them even if they did not speak to each other. Every blow, grunt, and kick chipped away at the barrier between them, just as - she imagined - he knew it would. She hated that his plan was working. 

“Deal. We’ll try some new things tomorrow.” 

“I’m a man of my word… now,” he added with a chuckle when her eyebrow raised. “What do you wanna know?” 

“How did a man who vowed to sooner destroy Wakanda before he stepped foot in it again manage to get his hands on our most sacred herb?” 

He scratched the nape of his neck, that was not the question he was expecting. But it was a fair one. He had once vowed to burn Wakanda to the ground for what they took from him. And now he was back, serving the country as loyally as any other soul would, had given up more than most would - though he chose not to think about the long-term freedoms he gave up for it. Only T’Challa knew the road that led him back, that changed his mind. 

“You weren’t wrong…” he closed the space between them. 

“I rarely am,” she offered, which made him laugh. 

Conceded but true, he thought to himself. 

“T’Challa and I did reconnect after his father died… couple years before the Blip. He gave me a set of beads and told me if I ever needed anythin’, call him. Never thought I’d need to call it in, never thought I’d need him. And then… shit hit the fan after the Blip, tried to save someone instead of myself and got shot.” He gestured toward the faintest scar among the raised scarring on his chest. “Escaped, used one of the beads to stabilize myself, called T’Challa. By the time they got me back, the herb was the only option.” 

“You were shot?” She whispered. Without thinking, her hand reached to his scarred chest and grazed over the faint line left behind. It was barely visible against the bumps that marred his perfect skin. The picture of it pained her soul, the idea of him floating between life and death. “I d-don’t understand you,” she whispered with a soft chuckle and head shake. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You claimed to have no room in your heart for anyone, claimed to love nothing and no one. Who on this planet was worth almost dying for?” 

Erik grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest, which tore her eyes from his scar to his deep brown ones. 

“Someone who reminded me of the most important thing I sacrificed, the thing I always wanted to get back to.” 

She could feel the ice between them, the ice she so desperately clung to, melting away as if someone set it ablaze. It could not withstand this, this fire that brewed between them under the surface of disdain. She could no longer ignore it in favor of righteous rage. He was making it impossible to do so. She wanted to resist it, break free of him and this spell he kept putting her under. But his pull was impossible to resist. She was paralyzed there with him and that terrified her. 

“W-why’d you stay?” 

“I saw my dad in the Ancestral Plane. Reminded me that I… I had been on the run from hard shit long enough, that I made mistakes and I needed to stay and fix them. Atone for them. So I vowed to stick around this time and do that.”

“And did you? Fix it?” Her voice was reduced to a whisper. 

“Some of it. Some are proving harder but I got 5 or 6 weeks left.” 

She wished Bast would send her some snappy retort, something to remind him that she hated him. However, there was nothing. No jabs, no anger, nothing she could offer. The old her, the one she buried beneath everything she was today, yearned for him as if he were oxygen for her to breathe. But she couldn’t, couldn’t let her out again, allow herself to be hurt like that again.

“What if t-that isn’t enough? What if t-there’s t-too much damage?” 

He shrugged. “With enough work, anything can be fixed. And I ain’t ever let a challenge stop me.” 

She let out a shaky breath as his face leaned in closer to hers. It was as if something transported her back to her teens. She was 16 again, sneaking through the caves of the falls with Erik, ready to fall into the roaring river that was him. And here she was, foolishly, teetering on that edge again. And the rope that kept her tethered to the edge, a decade of pain and anger, that was fraying at the middle with each passing moment in his presence. 

However, she was thankful when both of their beads rang out loudly, a cannon that forced them away from each other. 

Thank Bast, she thought to herself. She still answered some prayers.

“It’s T’Challa,” she mumbled. “W-We should go.” 

Erik tried to mask the crestfallen look on his face before he nodded and followed her out. Every day he had to remind himself that movement and rebuilding was slow tedious work. And his road back into Naja’s good graces would a long one.

***

Naja tossed and turned, groaning slightly to herself. Sleep was more difficult in Wakanda than she thought it would be. She was used to holding late hours, whether for her shifts at the bar or for activities that required the cover of night before sleeping until noon. It also did not help how soft her bed was. She had long left the luxuries of Wakanda behind and now they were difficult to grow accustomed to again. 

Her family was determined to use every moment of her time with them. A certain adorable prince demanded Naja’s attendance at breakfast before he went to school, which meant early mornings with the family. She spent most of the day with Nakia and the baby before sparring with Erik in the afternoon, an activity she hated to admit she looked forward to. 

“You aren’t sleeping,” she mumbled to herself before sliding out of bed. She grabbed her long duster to provide some level of decency to her short sleeping shorts and tank top. She wished she had the company of man to help her at least feel tired but she did not. Besides, everytime she thought about it… there was only one man that came to mind and that was beyond out of the question. 

She slid on her slippers and, because she was who she was, grabbed her gun from under her pillow and tucked it in the waistband of her shorts. What would she need it for? She did not know but she did not go anywhere at night without it. 

She slipped out of her quarters, nodding at the two Dora who stood guard outside her wing. They did not follow her, thank Bast. But that had been the compromise. 

She meandered through the halls, soft candles leading her around as she wandered. A soft wind blew through the open halls of the palace, leading her to the gardens. She walked through, savoring the beauty and quiet of the space. She settled in a patch that grew vibrant blue lilies she knew Nakia had planted as they grew along the falls. They were her personal favorites. She sat there and studied them, noting every shade of blue in each petal. They reminded her of a softer life, a softer time. She used to keep a bouquet of them by her bed when she was young. 

She had no desire to go back there but she could not pretend that sometimes she didn't missed it. She missed the girl that could fall asleep on mattresses that felt like clouds and became gleeful at pretty flowers. Who sought out the beauty in every person, not the ulterior motives they had to harm her. That girl was dead and buried, rightfully so but she was missed. 

As quickly as her reminiscing started, it ended as she felt a presence behind her. Instinctively, she jumped up and grabbed her gun, pointing it at Erik. 

“Ain’t seen someone move that fast in a minute,” he offered, admiration in his voice despite the gun aimed between his eyes. “You a good shot?” 

“Better than you I’m sure,” she mumbled. “They didn’t teach you at your assassin school about sneaking up on other assassins?” 

“Wasn’t sneakin’. I said your name twice before you almost blew my head off.” 

Naja blinked a few times in shock. “Oh, sorry, don’t know how I didn’t hear you.” She stowed her weapon back behind her back and shifted her weight awkwardly. “Couldn’t sleep either?” 

“Nah… just don’t need it much anymore. One of the benefits of the herb. Lots of time to wander and think.” 

Some nights, the restlessness in his spirit was simply unbearable so he just wandered. He often left the palace and went to his favorite spots in the country. But some nights like tonight, he just walked around the palace. Since he moved in, he imagined he had learned every nook and cranny. No one ever bothered him or even tried to stop him, though he knew every midnight stroll made its way back to T’Challa. 

He had free range but he also knew T’Challa kept a close eye on him. He was not intrusive or overbearing so Erik chose to ignore it and let T’Challa do whatever he needed to do to feel secure about Erik’s residency there. And though T’Challa would never admit it, Erik also knew that his spying had an ulterior motive driven by a fear that T’Challa would wake up one day and Erik would have disappeared without warning or a goodbye. 

That was not him anymore, he had learned his lesson years ago. Learned the irreversible pain abandoning people without thought or care for them did. And he vowed that he would never make such a callous choice again, especially since he would likely spend the rest of his life making up for the last time. If he could have, Bast knew he would go back and do so many things differently, make so many different choices. That was all the last 15 years had been: years and years to contemplate the terrible decisions he made in his youth. 

“And opportunities to steal from the kitchens?” she gestured toward the wrapped up napkins in his hand. 

“Another benefit or curse of the herb, dependin’ on how you look at it. Always hungry as fuck.” 

She chuckled. “I can relate,” she admitted. “To the hungry part at least.” 

Erik studied her for a minute before reaching his hand out, handing her the wrapped up food. She raised an eyebrow before taking it and opening it, revealing her favorite dessert, a Wakandan lime cake that she had not had in years but adored. 

“Wanna share? It’s that recipe you always loved.” 

She wanted to say no but she saw it for what it was: a peace offering. At least for them at this moment, even if it did not last till the sun rose in the morning. 

She settled back in her spot, Erik sitting next to her, the cake perched on his knee as they each broke off pieces. She stifled a moan as the flavors hit her taste buds. 

“Bast… I forgot how good that was. Thanks for sharing. I hope you didn’t poison it or something.” 

“You hate me, not the other way around, remember?” 

Yes, you do hate him. Remember?? A voice yelled in her head. But did she? Really? Cause everything she felt right now was far from hate. Complicated, yes? But hate was not complicated at all. 

“Right. Wouldn’t be wise on your part to accept any cake from me then.” She grabbed another piece and popped it in her mouth before laying back in the soft grass. Her eyes studied the stars as they laid there in silence, Erik quietly handing her pieces of cake as he watched her. 

“Can I ask you somethin’? You owe me at least that, eating all my damn cake.” Not that he minded. 

“I’m nothing if not fair. What do you want to know?” 

Erik wanted to know so much, he wanted to know everything that had happened to her in the last 15 years but he knew it was a slow build to gaining her trust again. Which meant he had to start with a soft ball, something simple and easy that would not ruffle any feathers. 

“Been readin’ war dog files and most choose jobs and covers that… give them comfort. You chose a bartender in the poorest part of the country, why?” 

Naja turned onto her side to look at him. This was the most relaxed Erik had seen her since he arrived and he loved it. 

“T’Challa asked the same thing when I picked it,” she chuckled. “When I was assigned to Niganda as home base, I knew I needed to keep a low profile, I needed to be flexible and available for missions. And the poorest village in any country is the most overlooked. Knew no one would look twice. Perfect place to hide. And then I just grew to love it, the people… the heart of it. They don’t have much but everyone does everything they can for everyone. And I became a war dog to help people. If I was going to take lives, I figured I could help them too. And then it just became home.” 

“You are so different now…” he mumbled as he stared at her. 

She shrugged. “Had to be. Wasn’t going to survive any other way. Suppose I should thank you for that? If you hadn’t…” she did not want to say it. “Left, I wouldn’t be who I am today.” 

“And is she better than who you were?” He asked, holding her gaze. 

“She’s stronger. She won’t be broken ever again. She can’t be.” 

Erik knew he should quit while he was ahead. They were dancing into dangerous territory that could undo the fragile peace they had created between them. But he could not stop himself. He hated that she thought such things about herself, hated that she thought so lowly of herself. 

“What makes you think she wasn’t strong?” 

“Because she…” Naja stopped herself. She did not think she could go down this road with him. He wanted vulnerability and she was not interested in giving it to him. He did not deserve it. “I believe you asked for one question… not eight follow ups,” she joked. “I should head back to my room.” She stood up and dusted off her clothes. “Thanks for the cake.” 

Erik sighed. He figured he was taking it too far but he lost control when he was with her. Forgot about his obligations and all the things his brain knew he should not do. All he could think about was what his heart wanted and that was her, all of her. 

“Let me walk you back.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t need an escort.” 

“I know you don’t. Humor a nigga, damn. Were you always this stubborn?” 

Naja snorted. “Another consequence of your actions,” she shrugged. 

“Well your suite’s on the way to mine so we can walk in that direction together.” 

“You don’t give up, do you?” 

He closed the space between them, heat rising in Naja’s entire body as he stared down at her. “Nope. But I was always like that.” 

She did not say anything, there was no response she could offer that did not betray her. If she stayed in his presence, under his smolder much longer, he would end up in her bed. She had far less self control than he gave her credit for. 

She turned and walked back in the direction she came. They did not say much as they walked through the silent halls until they were back in front of her suite. 

“Thanks for the cake and conversation. It was nice,” she admitted. 

“How painful was that?” At her confused expression, Erik added. “To say somethin’  nice to me?” 

Naja laughed loudly. Fuck, Eirk forgot how much he missed that sound. “Very. Don’t make me regret it. And say a word of it to anyone else and I’ll show you how good of a shot I am,” she warned. 

“Fine if you do somethin’ for me? Next time you can’t sleep and want to go wanderin’, call me. I know all the best spots for us night owls.” 

She studied him. Everything in her warred. Her heart demanded she say yes, the voice she listened to the least. Her brain simply demanded she remember everything he had done to her, how he had destroyed her. But her heart recognized his effort, recognized that he was trying to earn her trust back. And what did she gain by pretending it was not working to some degree? But doing so scared her. Her anger and rage toward him had been fuel to survive, she did not know who she was without it. But even that fear was not strong enough to make her say that simple word: no. 

He had infiltrated every aspect of her being and there was only so much resistance she could put up.

“Fine. But this changes nothing between us. I just don’t enjoy wandering alone.” She did not even understand the point of adding that caveat. It was not true. The sum of two conversations had changed everything between them. 

Erik was not even annoyed or angry at her words. He deserved 99% of the lashings she gave him. He was honestly surprised she even said yes. But he would not complain, the barrier softened with every passing day and he would take whatever he could get. 

“I know. You still hate me. Understood. See you on the mat, Naja.” 

“Night.” 

Naja watched him walk off before closing the door to her room. She slumped against the door. 

“Fuck me,” she muttered before climbing into bed. 

However, she could not deny that Erik had a certain effect on her because she slept the rest of the night. Though her brain plagued her with dreams, or in her opinion nightmares, of him. Of her falling for him yet again. And each one ended the same way: with him leaving her heartbroken and alone. 

She was only pulled out of her dreams at a knock at her door. She groaned, wondering who had lost all common sense and was bothering her. She rubbed her eyes, noticing the sun was high in the sky. She glanced at her clock, breakfast was in a short while which meant she did not need to scream at whatever poor soul stood on the other side of her door. 

She slid on her robe and pulled open the door. 

“Sister Naja? I have a delivery for you.” The woman held a vase of blue flame lilies in her arms. “There’s also a note.” 

“Who are they from?” Naja asked, though she already knew the answer. 

“They said you would know.” and with that, she handed her the vase and note and walked away. Naja sat on her bed, sliding the vase down on her bedside table before opening the note. 

A girl once told me she liked to wake up to these every day because they were a reminder of the beauty in our world. One of the many lessons that girl taught me was that strength and beauty can co-exist. It took me too long to learn that lesson but when I did, it changed my life. I hope you haven’t forgotten it. 

A tear slid down her cheek as she studied the flowers. 

“I hate him so much,” she whispered to herself. But she knew the truth, the only thing she hated about Erik was how much she still loved him. And really, that was what she hated about herself more. 

***

“Again!” Naja demanded as she jumped to her feet. She spun the spear around her in her hand before stabbing into the soft material of the mat. 

Erik braced himself on his knees. “How the fuck you keep doin’ that shit? It’s like I ain’t even tryin’. This shit’s effortless for you.” 

“I’m just that good,” she winked at him before sighing. “I think you need an incentive.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Because this isn’t working. It would be easier to teach a penguin to fly than this… and less painful.” 

“So you got jokes? I’m gettin’ my ass beat... and you got jokes." 

Naja closed the space between them. “You’re getting your ass beat because you aren’t trying. You’re pulling your punches and holding back because you don’t want to hurt me. I’m not a child playing on the grown-ups’ mat. Fight me as you would fight any man out there. But I know you. You’ve always had a competitive spirit so let’s make a bet. Best two out of three and whoever wins gets whatever they want. Once in a lifetime opportunity. You in?”  

Erik’s ears immediately perked up. “You serious?” 

“Yes. You need an incentive, so make your wager good. Something you’d fight to the death for.” 

Erik saw a golden path laid out in front of him. This felt too good to be true. But she was completely and totally serious. She was offering him anything in this world. He knew she would fight equally hard to win but he had to try. Big risk, big reward was always his motto. 

“If I win, let me take you out to dinner.” 

Naja immediately shook her head. She clearly had not thought this plan through properly. Wandering through the palace and sparring together was one thing. She could be friendly with him again but she would not date him or intentionally foster the romantic feelings she felt for him. Never again.

“Absolutely not.” 

“You said somethin’ I’d fight to death for and any good spy knows to be specific and you didn’t give any parameters. So that’s it. One dinner outside the palace with me. Besides… it’s gotta be somethin’ you’d fight equally hard to ensure I lost. Gotta make it a fair fight.” 

He knew Naja was principled enough not to go back on her word. She wanted him to fight harder, this would certainly do it. But she hated that he kept trying, kept poking at her soft spots to make her fully cave for him. He was playing her like a fiddle and she was too weak  to stop him. 

However, a small piece of her demanded she resisted the pull to say yes and let Bast and fate decide what happened next.

“One dinner isn’t going to change anything between us. Pick something else.” 

“No. I can be just as stubborn as you.” 

“Pick. Something. Else.” She practically screamed at him, everything in her ignoring the electricity that sparked when they were they close. He woke up every cell in her body, charged her with energy and passion and lust. Everything she did not want to feel for him.

There was no space for Bast between them as they stood off. Despite their significant height difference, Naja did not cower. She stood tall before him even though she barely reached his chin.

“No. You can hate me, despise me. I don’t care. But I won’t stop tryin’, Naja. Even if all I can do is show you I’ve changed and that I regret what I did to you so you can hate me a little less. If that’s all I get, I can live with that. But I can't live knowing I didn't try so I’m gonna use every minute I got to show you. That’s a promise.” 

Naja pulled herself to the fullest height she could. “It won’t work.” 

“If you’re so sure it won’t work, then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Naja sucked her teeth. There was no retort for that… at least not one that would get her out of this hellish situation.  “Fine. Pick your weapon.” 

Once they both had their chosen spears in hand, the training center filled with the loud clashing of vibranium. Naja fought with every ounce of intensity she could muster, landing Erik on his back with her spear gently poking his chest in a few short minutes. 

“One for me. Feels like you played this little game all wrong. Instead of giving yourself an incentive, you just gave me a better one to beat your ass.” 

Erik bared his teeth with a menacing smile, his golden grill glistening slightly in the light before he pushed himself to his feet. “I played the game exactly like I wanted to, baby girl. But I like it when you talk shit.” 

Naja bristled at the pet name he used to call her. She imagined he pulled it out simply to touch a nerve but it sounded so effortless too. No one had called her that since him and it, like the flowers he gave her, woke something in her she thought was dead and gone. 

What Naja did not know is that Erik had used the first round to his advantage. He used the time to study her, how she attacked, which weak spots she would go for first. So during the second round, he met her blow for blow, blocking every single one with such precision that she could not hide her shock and surprise. 

“I knew you were holding out on me.” 

“What half assed assassin school did you go to where they didn’t teach you the number 1 rule?” he asked as he slashed the blunt end of his spear against her back, causing her to fall to the ground. 

It was the first time he grounded her but even in her shock, she rolled to her side and immediately bounced to her feet, ignoring the lack of air in her lungs. 

Fuck, she was exhausted. And she knew then that she was screwed. 

“And what’s… that?” 

“No one’s your friend so you should never show all your tricks. And you’ve been showing me all of yours for weeks.” 

And just as Naja lunged to take him down, Erik grabbed the end of her spear and yanked her against his chest. With a move she had never seen before, he twisted the weapon out of her grasp and her arm behind her back, forcing her to remain flush to his chest. For good measure and to prove he had won the round, he grabbed a knife he kept hidden in his vest and held it to her throat. 

“Yield.” 

Naja could feel every scar on his chest pressed against her bare skin as she fought him in only a sports bra and leggings. She could feel every muscle and ounce of strength against her. 

“Screw you,” she spat angrily as she yanked her arm free and turned to face him. 

“I forgot you were a sore loser. One to one. One more round, baby girl.” 

“Call me that again and you’ll meet Bast a lot sooner than you want to.” 

They both crouched down into their fighting stances and pounced. It was more than a dance this time, it was the performance of a lifetime for both of them. There was too much on the line… everything was on the line. Every trick, hidden skill, ruthless action they could use without killing the other, they did. They were fighting to win and they were two people who never lost. 

Everytime each of them thought they had the other in their crosshairs, they found a way to weasel out of them. Naja was afraid of how sore she would be in the morning but she did not care. For all intents and purposes, she was fighting for her life on that mat. Losing her dignity to Erik Stevens again was not an option. 

However, Erik knew one thing that Naja did not want to admit. His enhancements meant that he could last longer in a fight than any of his opponents, even if they were better fighters. He did not have to outfight Naja… he simply had to outlast her. And sure enough, as this round went on for nearly double the amount of time as the others, he could see her movements grow tired and slower. She usually moved with the precision and quickness of a machine. But she was not a machine, she was human and the human body had a limit. She was reaching hers. 

Erik thought about dragging it out but he was a victor ready to claim his prize. While he was the type of monster who enjoyed playing with his food before he went in for the kill, he knew this win would be delicious without all that. 

He waited until Naja lunged for him before he spun away from her and kicked the back of her knee. She groaned in pain as she toppled like a tree. Her usual move to return to her feet was too slow, giving Erik the chance to straddle her hips and pin her hands to the ground. 

“Yield.” He demanded, his voice low and domineering. 

She bucked against him a few times to get him off of her, frustrated at the heaviness that was him against her small frame. She was stuck beneath him and she had lost. They both knew it. 

Her chest heaved and Erik found it difficult not to let his eyes fall to her full chest, the tops of her breasts on display for him. He had forgotten what it was like to have her beneath him. He knew he could never have her like this in the setting he wanted but he could reminisce.

“Say it or we ain’t movin’.”

“I yield,” she whispered through gritted teeth, Erik allowing her to sit up. 

He held out his hand to help her to her feet but like the sore loser she was, she swatted it away and stood up on her own. She stomped over to her bag and wiped the dripping sweat off of her in a fit of rage. How did she lose?

Because you’re weak when it comes to him. Always have been and always will be. 

She could not even look at him in her frustration at him and herself for this stupid position she put herself in. She supposed she just had not expected it to backfire so spectacularly. 

“That was fun. You were right… just needed a good incentive.” He threw her a teasing smile, which her deadpan face did not return. “See you for our walk tonight. I’ll let you know about dinner, just make sure to wear somethin’ black and gold,” he winked at her before grabbing his stuff and leaving the training center.

As she watched him retreat, Naja paced in circles on the training mat before letting out a loud frustrated groan. For good measure, she pulled out all of the knives in her vest one by one and aimed them at the door Erik just walked out of. Each one hit the same square inch of the door with precision right where his head had been only seconds earlier.  

“Should’ve been his fucking face,” she muttered to herself before grabbing her bag and stalking out of the center, her hands angrily ripping each knife out of the door before she left. 

***

Erik could not help but check his beads and messages every five minutes. Tonight’s usual restlessness had turned to all-consuming anxiety as their usual meeting hour had passed without a call or message. He wondered if she was sulking as she had been all evening since their sparring match. She lost fair and square but he knew she would not be happy about it. But he had hoped she would come around by their late night walk.

He found that his few hours with Naja each day were the only things he looked forward to. There was still a coldness to her when they were around the entire family as if she was committed to the facade. But day by day, he got to see a bit of the old her until she realized and usually became cold again. However, he did not mind. He still had several weeks to fully peel back the curtain and he would take every minute he could. 

Maybe she is sleep. She actually needs it, unlike you. 

Erik only felt so bad about keeping her up at night. He knew her human non-enhanced body needed rest that his did not but he did not feel bad enough to cut their time together short. Deciding that he could not wait any longer and could just meet her in the gardens when and if she called, he decided to start his wandering journey without her. 

He pulled on his shoes and stepped out of his room, nodding at the Dora assigned to him. She waited for a moment, knowing he hated the shadows he was forced to keep with him. 

“Staying in the palace tonight,” he called over his shoulder, the woman’s shoulders easing a bit as she remained in her position. Even he had no interest in walking outside in one of Wakanda’s summer storms. He remembered those from when he was a kid, they were a force to be reckoned with. 

The storm immediately made him think of Naja, who was notoriously afraid of thunder and lightning. He wondered if she was still was. Though he imagined there was little she was afraid of these days.

His silent musings were cut short when a soft whimper filled his ears. He whipped his head around, glancing up and down the hall of rooms, his enhanced hearing straining to pick up on the sound again. 

When he heard it a second time, it was more pained, agonizing sadness that gripped his soul with incoherent mumblings he could not make sense of. But it was loud enough for him to know exactly who it was.  

“Naja.” 

His feet moved faster than light itself as he followed the pained sobs to her door. He did not think to knock or announce himself when he pushed inside to find her thrashing in her bed, her sheets tangled up in her limbs. Tears streamed down her face as she cried, he could see the small beads of tacky sweat that covered her. 

With only mere feet between them, he could finally hear her words, her soft apologies to someone who was not there. Select phrases hit his ears and felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart, her proclamations that something was her fault, her pleas for forgiveness. 

His eyes quickly scanned the papers and journals that were littered across her bed. Surveillance photos, maps, pictures of children, notes scribbled in her journal. None of it made sense to him without proper context but one thing he knew for certain: she was involved in far more than watching and observing. 

He sat down on the corner of her bed and gently touched her face, his palm cupping her cheek. His thumb whisked away her tears. At his touch, her body slowly settled, though her tears and mumbling pleas did not.

“Come back to me, Naja,” he whispered. His other hand rubbed her bare arm, hoping his touch would break through the barriers in her mind. “Wake up for me.” 

His instructions were low and his touch measured and gentle until he saw her eyes flutter open. 

“N-N’Jadaka?” She croaked as she blinked her eyes several times, adjusting to the darkness of her room. A loud crack of thunder caused her to jump slightly, Erik moving closer to her to rub her bare arms. She was shaking like a leaf. 

He was so concerned that he did not even get to revel in the fact that she used his real name for the fist time, the one she used to call him. 

“Hey, you’re ok. You’re ok. I just heard you havin’ a nightmare.” 

“J-just a nightmare… just a nightmare,” she muttered to herself as she forced her body into an upright position. Her eyes frantically surveyed her room as the realization that she was still in Wakanda hit her. Her eyes screwed shut, her arms wrapping around her knees as she repeated that refrain. “Just a nightmare.”

He was not sure what to make of the woman who sat in front of him now. She was such a juxtaposition to the hardened and cold spy who he had grown accustomed to since returning home. Since he saw her again, he felt like he was staring at her through a stained glass window. The other side peeked through ever so slightly but, for the most part, all he could see was the picture she wanted him to see and nothing more. But tonight? That stained glass window shattered and he could see her, the girl he fell madly in love with all those years ago. The girl who felt everything with her whole soul, loved so deeply for others, and lived in her vulnerability fully. 

Erik decided to make himself useful by pouring her a glass of water from the pitcher on her coffee table. However, she pushed it away when he tried to hand it to her, Naja suddenly overwhelmed by the shame that he, of all people, saw her in such a state. 

“I-I’m good,” she hastily wiped her tears.

Erik ignored her as he pushed the glass into her hand. It shook slightly so he wrapped his own hand around hers to ensure she did not spill it. 

“Drink.” She could tell his word was a command and not a suggestion, though the stubborn part of her wanted to remind him that he was in no position to give her orders.

He watched her intently as she took long sips, the tension in her frame easing every time she swallowed. 

“So you gonna tell me what that was about? And what all this is?” 

“Missing kids in the capital… stolen by the King and his soldiers but no one knows where they are or why. Two girls were taken earlier this evening. Every day I’m here, more of them go missing, more lives ruined and there’s nothing I can do.”

“The dream?” 

“I c-couldn’t sleep cause of the s-storm,” she gestured toward the window. “A-and finding out about the girls so I started pouring over my notes. Must’ve dozed off a-and… A-and I was back at my house there and I walked outside and… All their parents were outside, screaming a-and crying about how I couldn’t find them o-or save them. How no one cared about them. But I do… I c-care. I just… I pour over this mess every single night and I can’t…” she gestured at the mess on her bed. “I can’t figure it out. I can’t find them.” 

“Why you puttin’ that on yourself?” His thumb wiped one of her tears. 

“Because if I don’t… who will, Erik? I tried but I can’t… I can’t just watch and report. It’s not… it’s not me.” 

He shook his head. “I ain’t an idiot like T. I know you ain’t built for that watch dog shit. I am asking, why is it only on you to find them?”

She crossed her legs, tugging the blanket around her bare arms. She was not cold but something about the vulnerability made her shiver, shake. It also did not help that thunder and lightning raged outside. She hated storms, ever since she was a child. 

“Gotta find some way to earn some of my soul back,” she grimaced. She leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t regret it. I’d lead the same life over again if given the choice.” The conviction in her voice was resolute and unwavering. “Everything I’ve ever done was for our people and this country. But… It haunts me, all the suffering of this world that I ignored for years because it had nothing to do with the mission or serving Wakanda. These kids?” She picked up the stack of photos on the bed and handed them to him. “They aren’t Wakandan but does that mean their lives mean less? That they do not deserve our resources to find them? Save them? And if I can’t do it with all the resources and tech and everything we have that no one else on this planet does… what did I survive this long for then? I spent the better part of my life using those resources to take lives, I just want to spend whatever time I have left saving them.” 

Erik bowed his head. He understood the feeling, the ways in which the complex lives they chose haunted them day in and day out. But he had to learn how to make peace with it all. And she did too. 

“Naja… listen to me. Probably the last person you want advice from but I might be one of the only people ‘round here who get it. I killed a lot more people than you for a lot less righteous reasons. For revenge and to satisfy rage, not for country and all that shit. And I probably got more pleasure from it than you did. And that shit still haunts me too. I stayed here to save whatever pieces of my soul were left. I get it. But you… The girl I knew wanted to be a War Dog to help people and add to the world, not subtract from it. That girl ain’t dead. Maybe you just buried her beneath barriers to stop someone from ever hurtin’ you again. Because being a cold, unfeelin’ spy is less painful. Believe me, I tried that shit too. But our old selves always demand air eventually, Naja. And maybe this,” he took the photos out of her hand. “Is that air.” 

Fuck, I hate him, she though to herself. One thing that never changed about Erik was he knew exactly what to say, exactly what she needed to be whole again. This moment reminded her of the first time she and Erik slept together. They did not do anything but it was still the night she realized how utterly and insanely in love with him she was. It was a night not unlike this one, a summer storm keeping her up to the wee hours of the night. She had called him, expecting him to keep her company till she dozed off. But instead, he commandeered a jeep and was outside her window 20 minutes later. She buried herself in his chest while he offered her soothing words and stories until she fell asleep. 

He had always been her rock, her emotional constant when she was in pain. Part of her hated herself for still needing that from anyone, but particularly for craving it from him. 

“That girl’s gone, Erik,” she muttered, trying to regain some semblance of control in that moment. She could not remember the last time she was vulnerable with someone and she was not particularly interested in doing it now. “Time and life killed her. This is me now.” 

“If that girl was really gone, you would not be screamin’ yourself awake with nightmares over kids you don’t know. We can be as cold and unfeelin’ as we wanna be but who we were back then is  still there. And there’s nothin’ wrong with that. I thought the girl you were was pretty dope anyway,” he pushed her braids behind her shoulder with a smile. “I know you ain’t gonna go back to sleep so explain it to me.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You ain’t goin’ back to sleep with all that outside.” The wind and thunder seemed to pick up on cue as he spoke. At her surprised expression he shrugged. “I remember everything about you.” 

Her voice hitched slightly as she studied him, she felt all of it. So much love and adoration in his eyes that clashed with everything he had once made her believe about herself. A voice in her mind cautioned her with loud echoing words. 

He doesn’t love you, he doesn’t care for you. He never did. 

But everything in the way he studied her, the way he touched her, the way he intimately remembered everything about her she desperately tried to forget signaled that he did. But she learned the hard way where trusting Erik got her: years of agony, pain, and guilt for choices his actions forced her to make that she did not know if she could ever forgive him for. She hated how he slowly chipped away at the villainous image she had created of him. It was easy to hate a villain, but whatever he was now? The duality of being both her villain and her savior? That was an emotional gray area that she had no interest in living in. 

“I’m not worth remembering or sticking around for, remember?” She responded, her only defense to protect herself was to hit low. Though her words did not have the sharpness she intended. Instead they just sounded how she felt when she heard them: heartbroken.

And the blow landed but Erik did not let it deter him. She deserved to land a cheap shot or two, he deserved it. “I can’t undo the past. But you can let me atone for it by helpin’ you out now. If the Nigandans are plannin’ somethin’, I should know about it.” He decided to omit the real reason why he also needed to know what the Royal Family was orchestrating. That reality was a long ways off. “Besides, another pair of eyes might be exactly what you need. Let me help you, Naja.” 

She did not want to say yes and give him more opportunities to get close to her. However, the lives of these children and families were more important than her pride, even she knew that.

“Fine. But this changes nothing between us,” she warned as she shifted the materials on her bed around so she could walk him through everything in order. 

“I’d expect nothing less,” he remarked. 

An hour passed by the time Naja finished reviewing all the materials and evidence with him. 

“So? What do you think?” 

He shook his head. “Defintiely somethin’s goin’ on. But to stop the peace talks or get Wakanda to intervene, you gotta have more than this. And that takes time.” 

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I know, I know. I just don’t know how much time these kids have.” 

Erik rubbed her knee, trails of fire and heat cascading up her body at his touch. She awkwardly shifted her leg out of the way to avoid his grasp. She refused to fall, not again.  

“I’m gonna help you. T got me working the peace talks on my end now. Maybe with your undercover work and my spot in the negotiations, we can piece it all together. And maybe, if I help you bring these kids home, we can at least be friends?” 

“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered under her breath, which made Erik chuckle. 

“I won’t.” 

“But thank you. Seriously,” she squeezed his hand gently, a spark igniting between them before she tore it away. “Umm…I should try to go back to bed. Sorry for missing our meeting time tonight.” 

“All good. Night, Naja.” 

“Night, Erik.” 

Naja watched him start to head to the door, more loud cracks of thunder echoing around her. Something in her just broke, cracked her wide open and the girl she once was demanded air, freedom. And the only air she wanted was him. She knew it was a bad idea. It was the dumbest idea she had ever had. But she was about to make it. The night had stripped her bare, left her scared and boneless. And she was tired of dealing with all of that alone. 

“Erik!” She called after him as he opened her door. He stopped and turned to look at her, tears streaming down her face. “Stay.” 

That one word knocked the wind out of him. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, Naja.” He forced the words out, even though it was painful to do so. He wanted to stay, desperately so. But he knew she would hate herself and him in the morning if he did. 

“I don’t want… that,” she clarified, though that was a lie. She did want that, she wanted him to fuck her senseless so she forgot everything else. But she was strong enough to resist that. She was not strong enough to resist the part of her that just needed someone there. “I just… don’t want to be alone tonight. Please.”

That was all Erik needed to hear. He walked back over to her bed and slipped in beside her, his strong arms pulling her onto his chest. She curled up into his side and immediately relaxed, no longer jumping or tensing when loud thunder rolled through. They had done this countless times as teens and it felt just as easy and simple as it was back then. 

Even Erik felt at peace, his usual restlessness gone as they slept soundly in each other’s arms. 

When Naja woke up the next morning, she was shocked to find her body pressed against a hard chest. Before she could even open her eyes, the events of the night came back to her. 

What the fuck did you do? A voice accused her. 

She immediately extracted herself from Erik’s arms, causing him to shift and open his eyes. 

Awkward silence stretched between them as they stared at each other. Naja did not know what to say. One bad night and she had invited him into her bed? How sad, how cliche, how fucking stupid could she be? 

As if he could sense or see her internal downward spiral, Erik immediately climbed out of her bed and offered. “If you don’t want it to mean anythin’, then it doesn’t have to. Just a friend comforting a friend and I don’t plan on tellin’ anyone. We’re good, Naja.” 

Except… it did mean something. She could lie and say it didn’t but it did. It meant something that he came to her rescue, that he stayed even though she gave him no real reason to show her any kindness. It all meant something to her. As much as she did not want it to, it did. That rope that held her from falling into the sea of him? Well, it was so close to giving out and there was no materials to reinforce it. 

Last night was the safest she had felt in years… in the arms of the man she thought she hated most on this planet. Was she so prideful that she could reasonably ignore that? Erik said he wanted to prove that he changed… perhaps she should give him that chance. She was not betraying who she was now by doing so. She was honoring that some part of her, however small, still needed him in some way. And if 15 years of pretending that was not the case did not make the feeling go away, perhaps it was time to acknowledge that the feeling simply would never go away. 

“Thank you. See you at breakfast,” she whispered as she hugged her robe around her body. She felt exposed and not just physically. 

He nodded and started walking toward the door. However, before he could leave, she said, “For dinner… no where we went when we were together the first time.” 

He paused and glanced back at her. Naja took a tentative step toward him. 

“Every cell in my body is telling me not to do this. But… you said you’ve changed. So show me. But this is it… this dinner you fought for is it. The only chance you’ll get again to show me something different than the Erik who broke me. Don’t make me regret trusting you again.” 

“You won’t. And that’s a promise I can keep. See you at breakfast.

Tag list: @miyuhpapayuh @pipsqueak-98 @injerafiend @themakingsofdion @lishabaybee @certifiedlesbianbaddie @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @dangerous-history @roguekiki @mysteryuz @shyblackgurl

***

A/N: Alright Naja is giving him a chance? Sort of? lol drop a comment and let me know what you thought and how you think their dinner is going to go! As always, thanks for reading!

[fishfingersalad]

Rvb bbc ghosts x buzzfeed unsolved au Leonard “Alpha” Church III and his older sister Carolina Church inherit a creepy manor in the middle of nowhere halfway across the country after their great grandfather Leonard “Epsilon” Church dies of old age (yes Epsilon being their great grandfather is odd, it's for lore reasons).

Church’s college roommate Tucker has a ghost hunting youtube channel (Church edits his videos for him) and decides the manor seems spooky so he tags along to check it out with his co host (Kai) and camera/audio guy (Caboose) as well as Junior. Tex (Churches on again off again gf) comes along to bully them for getting scared, whenever she ends up on the show their views go up so they don’t complain. Carolina doesn’t wanna be stuck alone with Church’s friends so she invites her workout buddy Wash.

Unbeknownst to them, Tuckers “rival” youtube channel (the reds, Simmons is video and editing, Grif is audio, Lopez is in charge of their other equipment) catch wind of their plan to investigate the manor (Kai told Grif who accidentally let slip to Sarge) and they (literally just Sarge) take it as a challenge and they decide (are forced by Sarge) to follow the others to the manor to do their own investigation (Donut flirts with Locus the gas station attendant. This is important to me for some reason). Doc is unofficially part of the red team crew as first aid aka he follows them around bc he's worried about them going to all these abandoned buildings with no medical knowledge

Cw: talk of deaths in some detail, especially fires.

The Manor is actually haunted, by fifteen different ghosts:

Wyoming: 1840’s, fell out a window onto a weathervane

Florida: 1960’s, aspirin overdose 

York: 1980’s, car crash, has poltergeist abilities

North: 1850s, arsenic poisoning

South: 1850s, arsenic poisoning

Maine: 1910s, hunting accident, can sometimes be seen as a looming shadow in the dark

Ct: 1940s, military spy, shot

479er: 1960s, pilot, small aircraft crash

AI: 1920s, Children of a rich man who burned his house down while his wife was away with their youngest son, Leonard “Epsilon” Church (age 2 at the time). Delta (17), Theta (7), Eta (11), and Iota(11) died from smoke inhalation,  Gamma (15) and Omega (14) were burned,  Sigma (18) escaped the fire but succumbed to infection while still on the manor grounds. All of the ai ghosts carry a smell of smoke wherever they go (I have a drawing of them somewhere)

The only ones who can see the ghosts without outside influence (cameras, sensors, that stuff) are Church, Carolina, Wash, Donut, and Caboose, due to all five of them having near death experiences in their pasts, and later Doc after he’s possessed by Omega. Junior is also able to see ghosts though no one is sure why. 

Most of the au’s “story” is just silly interactions with the ghosts pranking the youtubers and various shenanigans. Wash deadpan pretends there are no ghosts to annoy both York and Tucker. Junior befriends Theta, Eta, and Iota, which concerns Tucker to no end especially since he tends to act like a horror movie child, all “Daddy, the lady with the hole in her head is in the corner again, daddy my friends with no faces wanna go play outside”. Sarge has a holy water super soaker that he carries everywhere incase of “ghouls”. South takes great joy in tormenting Simmons specifically. York follows the youtubers around and throws things at them, he only uses his poltergeist abilities for mischief. Ct finds a secret joy in sneaking up on Church to make him jump. Donut keeps telling his friends that the ghosts are there and real but none of them really believe him despite York pelting them with random objects. Wash finds a stray kitten and the ghosts are all immediately infatuated and begin following it around. Florida and Donut gossip together. Doc has to figure out how to deal with a rage fueled fourteen year old taking over his body. Tex punches Tucker on camera and it becomes their most popular video to date. Their second most popular video includes Tucker being attacked by Sarge with his holy water super soaker.

I just have so many little silly ideas about them...

[darklydeliciousdesires]

A Demand for Shakie Shakies - A Dad!Guero Fluff Short.

For my Guero girls (ENABLERS) who have done nothing but encourage this man to take up residence within my brain. Damn you all to hell. Love you really, though :D 

Words - 856

Warnings - None, just cute (annoying!) dad!Guero fluff!

“Daddy!”  

That yell. Jesus, she’s loud. Even from where she’s playing within your eye line in the living room across the hallway, her decibels rival that of a pneumatic drill.  

“What up, button?”

“Need snacks!”

“Alright, chill, tiny girl. I’m making that happen as fast as I can.”  

“Faster!”

He pauses, attracting your attention, pointing at you with the knife he’s holding. “She gets all this mouth from you, mamacita.”

Turning to him, your eyes widen at the sheer audacity of him to even suggest such a falsehood. “Says the man with the mouth the size of Manhattan, and twice as loud.”

Guero grins broadly, bobbing his tongue between his teeth just as the patter of tiny feet signals her arrival in the kitchen.  

With little hands clasped to her hips, she opens her mouth to draw a big breath. “DADDY!”

“GRACIE!” Yeah, he matches her in volume. Or she matches him, you’re unsure which way around it is since she started talking.

“Need my snacks!”

He raises his eyebrows at her demands, finishing chopping up the cucumber and pepper slices she’s requested. “What’s the magic word, baby cakes?”

“Now!”

Yep. Two very loud, demanding peas in a pod. It would be completely fair to say that Gracie is his tiny female equivalent. Apart from the fact she looks just like him, nobody could deny she was his from the noise and the sass alone.

He can’t help but hiss out a laugh, shaking his head. “Wasn’t the one I was after. Try again.”

“Please!”

He scoops her up, seating her on the side of the counter. “Here you go, duchess.”

“Fankoo, daddy. But I not duchess. I princess!”

He kisses her head as she begins to chomp through her cucumber. “You’re for sure regal, kid.” She grins, all tiny teeth, holding out a piece of gnawed on cucumber and feeding it to him.  

“Daddy where shakie shakies?”

She means her maracas, a word that at eighteen months old, she hasn’t quite grasped yet. “Over there on the table, but you ain’t playing with ‘em right now. Snack first.”  

“Wanna do shakie shakies! Now!”  

How very like her dad, refusing to take anything but complete compliance to her wishes. “Eat your snacks first, baby. Do as daddy says.”  

A snort emanates from your boyfriend, Guero raising an eyebrow. “Ain’t like you ever do.”  

You turn away from where you’re stirring the pot upon the stove, kissing the side of his neck. “There is one place I do.”  

“And even then it ain’t enough for my liking.”  

“You said you liked me to have a little bite,” you protest, using a little more force to prevent the chili from sticking to the bottom of the pot, turning the heat right down.  

He comes up behind you, moving your hair to place a kiss upon your cheek. “I said I like it when you bite.” He gives your butt a little slap before moving back to mind Gracie, pulling ridiculous faces at her as she eats. As soon as she’s done, her hands are thrust in the direction of the table.

“Shakie shakies now, daddy!”

“What, right now?”

“Yes!”

A soft burst of laughter exits his nose, looking between the table and his baby a few times. “And what do I get out of it?”

“Get ‘em now, daddy. NOW!” The delight of being at her service. That’s what he gets out of it.

“Damn, she fierce!” he laughs in a voice designed to entertain. She giggles, even though she is currently frustrated with his reluctance to proffer the desired shakie shakies. “You totally sure you want ‘em now, button?”

“Yes!”

His amused grin grows ever wider. “Totally sure?”

“DADDY BAD MAN!”  

You point at her with the spoon you’re stirring with. “True, Gracie. Daddy is a bad man.” Turning, you wink at him, Guero licking his top lip at you, mouthing ‘and you love it’ with a returned wink. Yeah, he’s got you there.  

“What, these? Are these what you want?” he asks, moving to the kitchen table and picking up the maracas.

“Gimme!”

“Say please.”

She’s all but puce in the face by this point, her father quickly whittling her down to her last nerve. He has a flair for it with everyone in his life, if nothing else. “PLEASE!”

“Hmm, nah.” He’s snorting with laughter at her utter indignance, Gracie turning to you for support.  

“Mommy, get the shakie shakies! Mommy do shakie shakies, then give to Gracie!”  

Guero snorts, beginning to grin. “It was from yo mama doin’ the skakie shakie that we ended up with you in the first place.” he mutters, cracking you up completely as you turn and grab the maracas, giving them a little shake before handing them to your expectant daughter.  

“Stop teasing the tiny beast, or mentioning my shakie shakie in front of her,” you chide, shaking your head softly as you turn back to the stove.

“Alright,” he sniffs, looking you up and down. “Just as long as I get to see it later.”  

As soon as Gracie is in bed, he does. No maracas are involved, either.  

[undermine-the-instinct]

Title: It Scratches At The Inside.

CW: Small talk about undermining an authoritative government. One super tiny mention of stimming. WC: 3.9K

This occurs before One Step back Two To Steps to The Right and some time after Second Male Lead, Enter! Bard!reader Masterlist

The guard had a stoic face but was obviously trying not to smile while you were there. You caught him failing a few times though, and you catch the mirth in his eyes when he opens up your jail cell and nods his head out.

"Your bail has been paid for. You're good to go bard."

"Alas my new friends! Parting is such sweet sorrow, but I must take my merry elsewhere." The rest of the people in your little cell groan, but also cheer you off, and you grin as you step out, give them a little bow.

You're allowed to collect your bag and your coat, and your lyre, and smile at the people there. No hard feelings, after all, you saw them smiling too when you were singing. You're no Barbatos but your voice is lovely.

"You're here much too often, you hear me?" The guard says, shuffling through his ring of keys.

"There's too many rules here to break sir. I'm honestly still trying to remember half of them." You chuckle as he gives you an eye.

"Well, that's the Monstadt in ya. Rulebreaker ya are. But I don't wanna see you back here for another three weeks at least, you hear me?" The door opens and you fly through before it's even halfway open. Kaveh is waiting for you.

"I'd be lucky to make it to two sir, but I'll try!" You think you hear him laugh before you turn the corner to the front desk, and Kaveh is not, in fact, actually waiting for you.

It's another man, dove gray hair with some teal undertones, tri-colored eyes and a bored, expectant look on his face when he turns to you. He looks haughty. And rich.

"Ah, there you are. Kaveh's little muse." With that, you know exactly who he is.

"Oh, you're his roommate, I presume?" You sweep into an elegant bow, and bow your head.

"And the one who bailed me out. Thank you very much. Though I assume you're here for a reason. Kaveh usually comes for me in these situations."

"Yes, nuisance that you are, but he was busy. Instead of having him panic over completing his work or getting to you, I decided to get you myself. Come now," he turns away, and starts walking out the building.

"There's better places we could be talking." Well, you're curious, and you currently have nowhere important to be. So, you follow him.

He walks briskly, and his super long legs pull him up ahead while you have to jog to keep up.

He just keeps walking, on and on. He doesn't make any conversation, and you're wondering whether this is really worth it, (why do you keep letting yourself be pulled off to suspicious places by handsome men) when he stops abruptly.

An alleyway, of course. Darkened and dampened with silence. You guess this will do.

Your hands fall to your knees, and you catch your breath. You're creaky from sitting in a cell for a couple days.

"Phew. Okay, what do you want from me?"

"Who says I want anything from you?"

"Please don't act like I'm dumb," you sigh, drawing yourself fully erect.

"There's a reason you bailed me out and brought me here, and you don't look the type to just do favors for people." A snap of your fingers.

"So, I'd prefer it if you'd just spit it out."

"Hm. You're right. I do want something from you. But I'm curious."

"About?"

"You." You roll your eyes the second that leaves his mouth.

"Why, is it because of all the drama with the Sages and the General? It's really not that interesting."

"Half of Sumeru can contest to that."

"It's really not anything special. Just annoying really."

"As the Grand Scribe I don't have to attend every meeting," He derails the conversation, your cheek would sting from the whiplash.

"And my input is not received very well. I am meant to record, analyze and store information for the convenience of others."

"Okay…. Sounds tedious."

"It is. But it has its uses too." He leans closer.

"Because I'm allowed to sort the information, I'm also able to conduct my own personal research. But there are some things I can't find in the Akademia.

"That's where you will come in."

"Me? How?" And why? Does he automatically assume that you're just going to do his bidding? The arrogance.

"You're banned from multiple establishments and restaurants. Bars and taverns and a few official buildings. So when you work it's usually odd jobs like delivering goods or watching cargo, helping the sailors at Port Ormos. And it's usually later at night when the general public has gone to bed."

"...Have you been stalking me or something?" Now it's his turn to roll his eyes.

"Kaveh will talk the ear off of anything if he has something he's passionate about. He seems particularly interested in you and your…uniqueness."

"I am pretty amazing," you acquiesce, nodding along. "And Kaveh has lots of ideas he likes to bounce off of me. He wants to incorporate Monstadt architecture into some of his next projects soon."

"We'll see how well recieved that is." Before you could call him out on his mutterings a sharp sigh leaves his nose.

"You're deliberately getting us off track."

"Well. It seems like you're building up to a proposal and I'm not here for it. Just tell me what you want instead of the creepy ways you've been keeping note of me."

"Everyone knows what you've been up to. You're practically a celebrity."

"Whoop-de-do. What do you want."

"Whenever you make a fuss Sumeru tunes in, starved for entertainment as they are. The sages are incensed and General Mahamatra is distracted. I need you to keep doing that, but doing it consciously now."

"...Okay? That's it?" Just keep being your troublesome self?

"With the late jobs you pull you're also privy to gossip. Which could lead to good intel if you follow the right gossip. I'm too noticeable. Much more than you are. My proposal is that you continue as you are. Distract the Akademiya, distract Sumeru. Collect intel and deliver it to me when I ask."

You huff and plop yourself down on a crate, crossing a leg over your knee.

"If I do that though, it would put me under more suspicion. My crimes have been elevated from a Violation to a Class B Misdemeanor. I don't have the luxury to do any of that even if I truly wanted to." You shrug.

"I get that you just bailed me out so I could maybe do a job for you, but I'm not risking falling under the Sages hands for…." Yeah, wait, he didn't offer anything. "Yeah, for what?"

"I'll bail you out if you get caught, but only if it's by the local precinct. Any higher jurisdiction I'll also become a suspect. Any funds you need I'd also be willing to provide."

"...You just have money to spend, don't you?"

"Consider it charity." He looks you up and down and that bastard. Yeah, your clothes look wrinkled and a little threadbare, but that's a part of your charm. The ruffian bard, so to speak.

Even if pebbles keep getting inside the hole in your boot. You hadn't been able to fix it yet.

"Okay, you pay me and bail me out for gathering intel wherever you need me to, and distracting Sumeru too, that's the deal? So everything I've already been doing." You shrug.

"I assume you have no demands?"

"Hm. I want to discuss the intel I gather at your place."

"Absolutely not." He shoots you down immediately, but you're not discouraged.

"Why not?! Kaveh always tells me about your horrible art decor and I wanna see how bad it really is." You kick your feet, but he still shakes his head.

"It's like you're trying to garner attention."

"I've been on the downlow lately, no ones going around looking for me. The General should also still be on an excursion for the better half of this week, so I'm led to believe." You snort.

"But I don't. These things take weeks but he's been running himself ragged lately. He'll probably be back in a day or two."

"We'll see if that holds weight. I don't suppose you know anything about the General's recent work ethic though, do you?"

"Constantly annoyed by my continued tomfoolery, I suppose. Anyways!" You snap up to your tip toes and grin.

"How about a down payment? I got plenty of info already, so why not?"

"I'll pay you after I get the intel."

"You seem like the type of guy to scam a person and do it smooth too. Payment first."

"I'm not giving you mora so you can run off like a little imp."

"Don't call me an imp again. I guess it's a good thing then that I don't want your money!" You put your hands in your pockets and rock back in your heels with your fake cheer. He raises an eyebrow.

"You obviously need it."

"Well duh, of course I do. But I prefer to work for my own." If there's one thing your parents taught you, it's that money honestly isn't worth a thing unless you earn it honestly.

And none of this seems honest or even good, actually. You make such bad judgements calls. At least you have a conscience.

"I'm sure you have a plethora of hidden funds you're just waiting to drain that won't show on your bank records, but I'm not taking it. I can manage." He looks disbelieving, and you're sure he thinks you're joking, or that you'll change your mind soon. Tempting as that offer was, you're not taking it, its way too sketchy. He just looks like hes yo to something, which, technically he is. But your parents taught you better!

"So what do you want then?"

"Hm…" you put a hand to your chin like you don't already know.

"A place to crash once or twice a week. That's all. Paying rent to an inn is getting expensive, and the beds arent even good." For emphasis you stretch your arms above your head, cracking a few joints.

"...Let me guess. Specifically at–"

"Specifically at your place, yeah." Yeah, you really wanna see this place. Youre going to. Kaveh has been so adamant about you never meeting his roommate or going to their shared space, and you're already working on breaking his second wish.

"Tell me, does the General or the sages believe I'd be hiding at the house of one of their officials? No. Even if they end up suspecting you they won't suspect our correlation."

"There's actually a chance they might," he counters. "With the fact that you're acquainted with my roommate."

"And not many people know you two are roommates. We just need to make sure that Kaveh doesn't figure out our relationship."

If he figured out this meeting happened he would yell and holler up to Celestia. Everyone under the sun would know, so you can't let him know. Absolutely not.

"You two have a sorta strange relationship so I'm sure that you didn't tell him that you were gonna bail me out. I'll tell him it was an anonymous person who bailed me out, perhaps a secret admirer." You flutter your lashes, but he seems unresponsive. What a statue.

"And when could we arrange this?"

"How about when I'm giving you my intel? It would be pretty late at night you know so people won't see me sneaking in through the back door or something. And if they do they'll just think I'm your lover or sonething."

He seems to think for a moment, and, really, wow, you've never seen eyes like his before. You've seen people with two different colored eyes, but no one with three colors per eye. It's really pretty actually.

Finally he nods, begrudgingly.

"Fine. It's a deal. Doesn't cost much on my end anyways."

"Well this is invaluable to me, so thank you!" the fake cheer in your voice doesn't go unnoticed, and he reaches a handout for a handshake. You take it (Holy Celestia his hand is huge what the fuck? His fingers way go past your wrist) and shake it firmly. You were a knight, you're sure you have a good handshake, but you suspect that's not the reason why he looks at his hand when you pull away. Bitch.

"Is there anything you'd like to know right now?" You ask, professional mode.

"Have you heard anything about the knowledge capsules?"

"The illegal production of them or the ones being stolen and sold from the Akademiya?" You're pretty sure you see his eyes light up something, not sinister, but calculating. You smile, bold, and gesture towards the alleyway.

"Lead the way Grand Scribe. I'll talk along the way."

________

"It's funny how you impose a no overnight guest rule but lift it for me."

"Kaveh's guests are usually just as drunk and rowdy as he is. So that rule only applies to him."

"And I'm never not drunk or rowdy?"

"You are, just not as often. And you have more tact. I make the rules here anyways, so I decide when and when not to impose them."

"Some people would call you a hypocrite."

"I don't care." You chuckle, and go back to toweling your hair.

Ready access to a shower is something you'll never take for granted again. Communal showers and baths got the job done, but leisurely soaking under the water was such a wondrous feeling you had nearly forgotten. One thing that you missed from inazuma- their baths and saunas, pure heaven.

Amazing smelling soaps and shampoos and lotions was another, things too tedious to carry around while traveling. Now your hair has gotten less frazzled and your skin has never been better in the handful of weeks Al Haitham has 'employed' you.

You had raised an eyebrow at Al Haitham, when you noticed all the new bottles after the first few times you crashed at his place, late at night, right after delivering intel.

"...Why don't you let me use the guest room and bathroom?"

"I'm not having you leave any evidence behind. That's why you've been using mine."

"I get that…but um. What is all of this?" You gesture at the bottles. They're all scents he would never use; vanilla, lavender, cinnamon, jasmine and saffron musk and the like. Soaps that smell like fruits and creamy lotions and sweet body scrubs.

He stood quiet for a few minutes, but answered you.

"....I unfortunately have a conscience, so if you won't accept money I have to imburse you some other way." He didn't even look up from the papers he was looking over, this convo a distraction.

"They seemed like things you would enjoy. So the toiletries are for you. Use them." And he waved a hand at you, dismissive.

You didn't know how to respond, so you just grinned and took an extra long bath.

Now, you delight in how soft and clean you are, and tottle over to where Al haitham sits on the couch, book in hand. You plop down next to him.

"Whaddya reading?"

"Something light."

"Yeah, whaddya reading?"

"The Cultural and Generational study of Linguistics as a philosophy as Opposed to a Social Mechanic. Just some light reading."

"Oh yeah, you Haravat peeps are big into languages and stuff. Do you know how to speak any other languages?"

"The Sage for Haravat has to be fluent in at least twenty languages to qualify."

"Archons be damned. What about you?"

"I can speak some." You tap his arm to try and get him a bit more into the conversation.

"Okay, then indulge me! Say something in another language."

"Eres molesto." You frown, and answer back in the same tongue.

"Cabron"

"Perra."

"Burra."

"Tonta."

"Pendejo."

"En realidad soy bastante inteligente."

"Sure you are." You sigh.

"I'm not the one who let my studies fall to the wayside to join a group of Knights only to drop out whilst being in a position of power to travel the world as a bard." He says, and yeah, that stung a little. Fucker.

"School just wasn't for me. I learn better with hands-on experience, going at my own pace."

"That's what all the dropouts say."

"I kept up my education in other ways, alright?! I've traveled and seen more than you ever have."

"That's true. You have seen and experienced things I have yet to." He says. He doesn't add anything, and the room falls back into silence.

You can hear the crickets outside. Soon, you'll be able to hear the odd owl or two, hooting away at the night. A half muffled conversation you hear, whispers from the open window.

"But, I'm still smarter than you." Silence and peace, broken. You grab one of the couch pillows and try to smack him. He stops it with a hand though.

"Oh shut up! You act like that makes you so much better than me."

"Who's the one with the most mora between us?"

"Mora isn't worth a damn thing except the value people put on it."

"Which is quite a lot, so my question still stands." You huff and snatch back the pillow, clutching it to your chest.

"Don't you get tired of the nomad life?" He asks you suddenly, seriously.

"Wouldn't you like to actually settle down somewhere, have some stability?"

"Well, with my record it probably won't be in Sumeru." You laugh, trying to make light of the way Al haitham is looking at you, the way he looked away from his book the first time that night.

"But I have no plans for anything right now. That might seem aimless but I find it freeing. I could go anywhere, I could do nearly anything. The only thing I have to follow is my own compass and everything else will align."

"That sounds like you expect the world to just adhere to you and follow your whims."

"Of course I don't expect that. But fortune favors the bold, and I'm tired of being meek. I fell into conformity and enjoyed the monotone nature of it all before, because I was scared of change." You stare off into space, lost in your thoughts of what was.

"I had to put myself out there to know this, but I'd rather be scared of what's coming rather than what could be, you know? It's easy to get dragged into a lifestyle and think that it's the best you can get, but I crave a thrill. I'm young, so I'm going to be a little crazy, a little reckless. It's the right of youth after all."

"Hm." That's his only reply. You don't look up from where you're holding the pillow, staring down at your feet, still kinda wrinkly from soaking for too long.

"That mindset was for when we were teenagers. That doesn't apply as you get older."

"Says who? Society? As long as I'm able to, and as long as I want to, I'm to travel and sing and dance. It makes me feel good. I feel alive. Even if I'm condemned for it I won't stop."

"Really? If you keep annoying the Sages they might just have to double down on you," he says, like discussing the weather.

"And the General Mahamtra Cyno. For some reason you're able to hold him at bay, but for how long? Will you continue, should they get more aggressive?"

"Of course. I have to."

"You have to?"

"Yeah. Even if I can't do it here, I'll find some place where I can." You nod, somber.

"I have to. It's like….it's just inside of me and I have to let it out."

"Like stimming?"

"Almost! But…more. Just more. It just demands to be heard," you poke at your collarbone, lost in contemplation.

"It just…scratches at the inside of me."

"....Well, that's the Monstadt in you." He sighs again, exasperated, and you're sure he is, but you're sure he's starting to get used to your company too.

You kinda just…spilled your guts a little, didn't you? How embarrassing. But when you look up, Al haitham has his eyes on his book again.

"How about you go to sleep already? You have a job tomorrow."

"Well, the couch I've been allowed to occupy has been taken over already so I'm afraid not."

"I caught you sleeping standing up once, I'm sure half a couch can suffice."

"No, get off."

"No. My couch. My room."

"That you let me sleep in. Turn off the light, too."

"No. I'm reading. I'm not going to do either."

"Well fine then!" And just like that you plop your head into his lap.

He moves his book out the way and blinks down at you, actually looking a little astonished.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" You snort.

"Oh wow, you cursed. Oh uh, I'm going to sleep?"

"With your head in my lap?"

"Yeah, do you work out by any chance? Of course you do look at your biceps, but this," you tap his thigh. "Is not a very comfy pillow. You're not very soft."

"Then get off." You shut your eyes and immediately pretend to be sleeping already, even if you can't help the twitching at the corner of your mouth.

"What was that? I'm sleeptalking and can't hear you over the fact that I'm very deep in my REM cycle now." You fake snore just to sell it and you swear you could feel him roll his eyes.

But he doesn't move you, and you're actually dog tired, and soon, you're fast asleep.

******

His leg goes numb in half an hour, but he still doesn't yet move.

You're really snoring now, and he's sure there'd be droll if you had laid your head to the side. But your mouth is slightly parted, and even breaths leave your nose. You really fell asleep in his lap.

And for some reason he let you.

You're touchy, and nosy, but useful. You keep eyes off him when he needs to gather intel on his own, whatever you can't get him. You don't ask for much and do your community time when you're caught and sentenced. You enjoy it actually. Giving back and whatnot.

Kaveh continually gushes on about you, but should he offer the slightest bit of interest he suddenly turns snarky and possessive. Like a desert fox not wanting to share, he says that he wouldn't want to poison you with his everything.

He has to laugh a little. If only he knew.

Perhaps he could help you out. He's really cheating you with how much intel you bring in, and while he normally wouldn't feel anything, something about you pokes at his conscience.

He's sure he could help you acquire some sort of position that would allow you to continue your...hobbies. Probably at the Zubayr theater. And what about your vision?

You've been trying to hide it but he's caught a glimpse of its fiery red hue a couple of times. It would serve you well, whether gathering intel or defending yourself from troublemakers. You've had a couple scruffles and loose calls that could be avoided.

The only problem is the fact you need a high ranking signature. And you can't ask, no one would be willing to sign for you.

Except for him, perhaps. But were you worth the suspicion?

You'd undoubtedly be able to do more with your vision. You'd be much more useful. If he gets you a position at the theater you'd be more willing to do work for him. It would reap him many rewards. He should start treating you more like a business partner than an employee. Then it's decided.

He'd also have you start taking your payment already. Multiple small withdrawals from the bank would look less suspicious then one large one, and he's tired of you forcing yourself to some strict moral code. Baths and a place to crash are basic rights, not payment. If you're working for him you'll get payed, end of chapter.

Speaking of chapters, he'll move once he finishes this one. Once you were asleep you wouldn't wake until your body was sufficiently rested, a horrible quirk of yours, so he could move without you stirring.

He'd let you stay where you are for a bit longer.

Translation Notes:

Eres molesto: You're annoying.

Cabron: Bastard

Perra: Bitch

Berra: Donkey/ Jackass

Tonta: Ditzy

Pendejo: Stupid/Dumbass

En realidad soy bastante intelligente: In reality im quite intelligent/ I'm actually quite intelligent. (He's being snarky/joking here.)

Taglist: @jjkclub @jaguarthecat @swivy123 @seajellyx @ash-in-lavender

[jankydem]

I got a random impulse to draw your ocs in the outer science mv so here I am asking for death orders and references, no rush though man.

So uhh.. I went a bit coocoo. :3

My ass honestly didn’t know if you meant ALL of my ocs so.. erm.. I just did this just in case ☹️🙏

Quick word- My au is set in a campsite (with a giant cage preventing them from escaping, and beyond the fence is a whole PIT. Like in The Promised Neverland. So that’s why folks were found in certain places.)

I’m also sorta sorry for not drawing their ACTUAL deaths, im still working on backgrounds and such and I didn’t wanna spend all that time on allat stuff.. I’m a lazy boy. (That’s aslo the reason why I’ve only shown the characters I haven’t draw, at the bottom is extra info for the characters that were previously drawn beforehand)

Haru Ito; Died to a blow to the head with a rock, was found in the forest. Reason he got killed- his murderer and himself started arguing and it turned into a fight. He was killed near the lake and was then dragged to the forest. (Chapter 1)

Yori Shiomura; Execution consisted of running through all types of movie genre’s before eventually being crushed by a stage light. (Chapter 1) (His execution is called “Lights, Cameras, Failure!”)

Kellise Akerele, Caleb Harris; Kellise was stabbed (not much of a deep cut) in the stomach, then was tossed into the lake and couldn’t get back up due to her weakness, Caleb was separately murdered in his cabin seemingly in the middle of conjuring up a plan to try and get the remaining survivors to escape. They were both targeted for being ‘scary’ to their murderer. (Chapter 3)

Matsunari Chiko; Her execution consists of her waiting tables, falling over, then getting fucking CUTLERY thrown at her until she eventually dies. (Chapter 3) (Her execution is called ‘Slip Up!”)

Yasuyuki Kaneko; Yasuyuki got a sketchy letter to go to the dining hall late at night as the mysterious person (claimed) to be the mastermind, Yasuyuki, wanting to confront the mastermind and not being in the right headspace, went to the dining hall. He had a yelling match and a fight with his murderer before said murderer slit his stomach open and dragged him to a tree, then proceeded to hang him. His body was found in front of the forest near the gym cabin. Reason he got killed- The murderer just wanted to kill him because he was annoying to her (Chapter 4)

(These are all of the survivors minus Kenji)

Other characters

Keiko Hayashi; Was found with two nails in his hand along with a stab wound in the middle of his chest. His body was found in the camps library. Reason for murder- Was purposely overstimulating his murderer. Purely trying to make him panic. (2nd chapter)

Kyran Kadokawa; His execution consists of him having to jump across wooden furniture (such as wardrobes, chairs or tables) and after god knows how long of jumping fell off and fell into the lava that was yes indeed the reason he was avoiding the floor and needing to jump on furniture in the first place. (Chapter 2) (His execution is called “Floor Is Lava!”)

Miyu Datai; Her execution consists of basically getting so beat up by a bunch of Monakumas to the point that she looks ‘ugly’, then, she gets a view of her late boyfriend, looking down at her with disgust. She reaches out to him and he just turns around and walks away as she calls out to him before being decapitated by another Monokuma. (Chapter 4) (Her execution is called ‘Love Comes In Many Ways.’)

Togunaka Momoru; who said he died?

IF THERE ARE ANY QUESTIONS PLEASSSSEEEEE LET ME KNOW! Also im so sorry for not being able to draw their deaths/executions I very much lack motivation at the moment :( also I totally didn’t use this as an excuse to tell y’all about their deaths/executions either… noooo wayyyy 👀