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pinksfloydss · 8 months ago

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i like the way you kiss me

Pairings: erik lehnsherr x afab reader (she/her pronoun use)

Warnings: smut, 18+. praise kink, mirror kink, insecurity, toxic (?) relationship. fwb of sorts. takes place after Days of Future Past. first time writing smut so be nice!

She knew her position in all of this, and she didn’t dare step over the boundaries. She knew Erik was not interested in a relationship, that he was looking for a warm body to press up against on the cold nights. At first she didn’t mind it. Just like him, she wanted a distraction from all of this tragedy and ostracisation in her life. Being a Mutant on the run from law enforcements was not an easy task, especially when nearly every Government agency was after Erik, and her by association. There was that understanding between them. An understanding that they were in this together. But not together, together.

She stood in the motel’s bathroom, a thin door separating her from Erik who was sitting on the bed. Sighing deeply, she tossed the empty box of hair dye in the trash can along with a pair of stained gloves. Sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, she glanced down at her gold watch, taking note of the time. After 45 minutes, she stripped out of her clothing and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water rush down her body. She used the shampoo and conditioner set she purchased alongside the hair dye. Erik argued that it was nonsensical, since the motel would have complimentary shampoo and conditioner for them to use. She fought back with the fact she was already changing the color of her hair, she wasn’t going to damage it anymore with cheap motel products.

After drying off her body with the rough towel and blow drying her hair with the motel-given dryer that made the lights flicker when she turned it on, she slipped into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“One second,” she replied, raising her voice only slightly.

“Come on, you’ve been in there forever,” Erik retorted through the door. “The suspense is killing me.”

She rolled her eyes and unlocked the door, allowing him to turn the knob and step in. She wasn’t ready to look at him directly yet, so she continued to nit-pick her appearance in the mirror. Erik came up behind her, gazing at her in the mirror as well. He gathered her waist length hair into his hands, holding it up like a ponytail.

“I think it suits you,” he murmured. “It's a shame there wasn’t any extra to share.”

She smiled at him in the reflection. “I can go back to the store tomorrow.”

“I’ll pass.”

Erik pressed himself against the back of her, dropping her hair down over one shoulder as he leaned in. He pressed soft kisses into the kiss of her neck, his scruff scratching her soft skin.

“Erik,” she muttered. “I just got out of the shower.”

“You can take another one.”

He grasped her jaw, turning her head so that they could kiss. It was soft, almost convincing. He kept her body pointed at the mirror. Sighing softly, he pulled himself away from her, looking down at her with dark eyes.

“I like the way you kiss me,” he whispered.

Her breath shook as she exhaled. She grabbed his hands that were planted at hips and started tugging on them. Placing one of his hands on her chest, she pulled the second one further down. He cupped her through her pajama shorts.

“Eager, are we?” he teased.

“Don’t make me beg,” she pleaded. “It’s embarrassing.”

He smiled against her neck. “You sound so beautiful when you beg.”

She closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to look at herself in the reflection. “Erik,” she whispered. “I need you. Please.”

Erik removed his hands from her body and grabbed the hem of her tank top, guiding her through it and off her body. Next, he moved to her shorts, pushing them off her hips and down the legs. She supported herself up by placing her palms on the sink counter. Her legs were weak, pliable. She kept her eyes closed.

She always considered herself to be a modern-woman, not in the need of a man to help her with anything. But at this moment, she needed Erik’s help. He was the only one who could make her feel better. The feeling of embarrassment with desperation kept her eyes sealed shut.

Erik pulled her back up against him, and she could feel the fact he just removed his own clothes. He groaned when she shifted weight, her soft skin rubbing against his growing hardness. One of his hands reached around her to her chest, rubbing his thumb across her hard nipple. His lips found the spot right under her ear, kissing it softly. Next, his other hand ran over her stomach and down between her thighs. His two innermost fingers slid between her folds, slipping inside her.

A gasp left her lips as he worked at her. The heel of his palm rubbed at her clit, making her tighten around his fingers even more.

“Erik,” she sighed.

“Say it,” he groaned.

“Please,” she choked out. “I want you. I – fuck – please, Erik.”

Erik complied to her pleads. He removed his hand from her and shuffled behind her, finding the right spot to stand. Finding it, he lined himself up with her and slowly slid in, giving her time to adjust. Perhaps the lewdest sound she has ever made came out of her. Perhaps the people in the neighboring rooms could hear her. Perhaps she was feeding into his ego. Any of it, she did not care. All she cared about was the way he was making her feel in this moment.

Erik grabbed both of her wrist, holding them behind her at the small of her back with one hand. The other grasped the base of the back of her neck, pushing the upper part of her body flat against the sink counter. She turned her head to the side, one cheek flushed against the cool counter. Erik made sure to collect all of her hair away from that side of her face, even placing it so it was off the back of her neck. His thrusts started out slow, patient with her body. But they soon picked up speed. With every moan she let out, he felt more of a responsibility to make the next one better.

“Is this what you’re too embarrassed to say you like?” he murmured, his one hand still gripping both of her wrists while the other braces himself on the back of her shoulder. “Do you like giving yourself completely over to me? Do you like the way I make you feel?”

She choked out a cry. She was never going to admit it out loud, she couldn’t. But the way his words – the truth she was afraid to confess – made her feel, sent shock waves through her body. He grabbed a fistful of hair with his hand, pulling her face up high enough to be seen in the mirror.

“Open your eyes, sweet girl,” he groaned. “Look at yourself.”

At first, she shook her head, but then he tightened her grip on her hair. Not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to send a message. Her eyes fluttered open, and she finally saw what she was so worried about seeing. Her face was flushed, her eyes hazed over, her lips slightly bruised from where she was biting down on and didn’t even realize it.

“I wish you could see all that I could see,” Erik groaned. “So beautiful, taking me so well.”

She unknowingly backed her hips up at him mid-thrust, electing a soft chuckle from him. Her eyes left her own reflection and stared at his, seeing the way he gazed down at her. She didn’t want to convince herself of anything. Not now, not here.

He let go of her wrist and her hair, pulling her body back up to be flushed up against his chest. She turned her head so she could actually look at him and not his reflection. His hand cupped her breast as he continued to move inside her.

“Tell..” she stopped herself.

He stopped moving. “Tell what?” he asked.

She shook her head, rocking herself back and front and trying the mimic the way it felt only a few seconds ago. “Ignore me,” she replied.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, sweet girl,” he said softly. “Say it.”

She closed her eyes again, turning her face away from him. “Erik, not now.”

He pulled out of her entirely, whirling her around to face him. “I can’t enjoy this if I think you’re not.”

She grabbed his face with both of her hands. “I am enjoying this,” she said, pulling his face down to kiss him. He kissed her back, hesitantly. Slowly, she started shuffling her way out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. One bed. It was the only vacant room in the motel.

She crawled onto the bed, stopping when her face met the soft pillow. She was on her knees, her back arched, showing herself to him. This could be her most vulnerable, but when she felt Erik move into bed behind her, grab her hips, and flip her onto her back, she felt more exposed than ever before.

“I want to see you,” he explained. “I want you to tell me what you want.”

She pulled him down so that he was hovering on top of her, forearms boxing in her head. Her hand pulled him down to kiss her while the other hand grabbed him and lined himself back up with her. He sank in completely, and she moaned into his mouth.

“Please tell me, my girl,” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss.

She tucked her head into the crook of his neck. “Tell me you like me, Erik. Tell me how good…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence before his hips snapped against hers. He grabbed a spare pillow and shoved it under her hips, creating a different angle that she could feel.

“You’re squeezing me just right,” he groaned. “So perfect. You’re taking me so well, sweet girl.”

Her back arched involuntarily, her chest meeting his with ragged breaths. She wanted more, and he could tell.

“You want to make me proud, don't you?” he teased. “I can see it in everything you do. Look at what I’m seeing.”

He brought her gaze to between their bodies, where he was hovering enough over her that they could watch him disappear into her with every thrust.

“You don’t know how perfect you feel,” he groaned. “Wrapped around me like you were made for me. Only for me. Your mine.”

She cried out, digging her fingernails into the skin of his shoulders. Erik dipped down to kiss her, helping her through her orgasm. With the way she was tightening around him, he didn’t last that much longer. Groaning, he quickly pulled himself out of her, letting himself finish on her stomach. She was panting, her thighs that were tight against his hips were shaking. After a moment to catch their breaths, he dropped himself onto the bed next to her. He took one look at her stomach and got out of bed, walking to the bathroom. He grabbed her clothes and a wash cloth he ran under warm water. Before walking back out, he quickly pulled on his boxers.

When he came back into the bedroom, she had pulled at the sheets enough to cover her breasts and thighs. Erik chuckled softly, making a teasing remark on her modesty at this point. He wiped her stomach clean and helped her back into her clothes. She sighed at the feeling of his rough hands against her skin.

He climbed back into bed beside her, pulling the blankets up over both of them. He noticed her hesitancy and how frozen she seemed under the blankets, so he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled him against him.

“I may not be telepathic, but I can see when you’re thinking,” he commented. “What is it?”

She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his expressions. “I know what we are, Erik. But sometimes it still stings.”

“And what do you think we are?” he asked, his eyes burning into her.

“It’s just sex between us,” she replied, taking a deep breath. “I know that.”

He signed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Quietly, he said her name, and then repeated it so that she would look at him for once. “It’s not just sex, sweet girl. I could spend every waking moment with you, not even touching, and that would be enough to keep me content. I just happen to like the way you kiss me.”

Her eyes were almost sad. “Erik,” she whispered. “If I didn’t side with you, and we weren’t on the run..”

“I would risk arrest if that meant catching a sight of you.”

She chuckled softly, closing her eyes as she felt his nose brush against her cheek. “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that ‘cause you were just inside me 5 minutes ago.”

Erik pressed a kiss against her lips. “No, I’m saying that because I mean it.”

#magneto #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #xmen #x men 97 #x men comics #smut #erik lehnsherr smut #x men first class #xmen days of future past #xmen dark phoenix #x2 #praise k!nk #mirror

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urdreamydoodles · 3 months ago

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X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

Your partner having to pause and tend to you because you burnt your finger while cooking (Part.1)

X-Men characters dropping everything to care for you after you accidentally burn your finger while cooking.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue & Erik Lehnsherr

Logan (Wolverine):

- You’ve always insisted on cooking for Logan, despite his rugged exterior and tough-as-nails attitude. It’s your way of showing love, and he enjoys watching you work in the kitchen, though he tends to hover in the background, grumbling about doing all this “fancy stuff” when he could just throw some meat on the grill. Today, you’re preparing something special—his favorite—but as you’re chopping vegetables and tending to the stove, you accidentally brush your finger against a hot pan. A sharp sting runs through your hand.

- The hiss of pain that escapes your lips brings Logan over in an instant, faster than you expect given his usual laid-back demeanor. “What happened, darlin’?” he growls, his brows furrowing as his sharp eyes catch sight of the reddening skin on your finger. Before you can even answer, his hands are already gently cradling yours, his gruffness momentarily fading. You try to laugh it off, but he isn’t having it.

- “You’ve gotta be more careful,” he mutters, reaching over to the faucet to run your finger under cold water. His touch is surprisingly tender for someone who fights so fiercely, and you notice the way his rough hands contrast with the way he’s treating you now. It’s a side of Logan he doesn’t show often, one of quiet concern and care, though he tries to mask it behind his gruff words. His thumb traces over your skin as if double-checking that the burn isn’t worse than it seems.

- After a moment of silence, he grabs a first-aid kit from under the sink—something he’s way too familiar with—and wraps your finger carefully. “There,” he grunts, looking satisfied with his work. But instead of letting you go, Logan pulls you into him, holding you close with one arm around your waist. “Next time, you let me do the cooking,” he growls into your ear, though there’s a teasing softness in his voice. You roll your eyes but smile, knowing he’s just relieved you’re okay.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit):

- You’ve been cooking all afternoon, determined to surprise Remy with something homemade since he’s always the one who spoils you with candlelit dinners and sweet gestures. You’re working on a recipe you found online, and everything is going smoothly—until you accidentally touch the edge of a hot pan. The sting is sharp and immediate, and you curse under your breath, hoping he didn’t hear.

- But of course, Remy is in the kitchen within seconds, his heightened senses picking up on your distress. “Ah, chérie, what happened?” he asks, his voice dripping with that charming Cajun drawl. He moves closer, his red-on-black eyes narrowing with concern as he gently takes your hand in his. “You hurt yourself?” he purrs, inspecting your finger with a mix of concern and playful teasing.

- You try to shrug it off, but Remy isn’t having any of it. He moves with swift grace, grabbing a dish towel to wrap around your finger as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You know, you’re too pretty to be messin’ with hot pans,” he smirks, his lips curving into that signature grin of his. Despite the lightness of his words, there’s a genuine tenderness in the way he’s handling you, his touch soft and reassuring.

- After cooling your finger under some water, he insists on kissing the small burn as if that will heal it faster. “There, all better,” he says with a wink, though he doesn’t let go of your hand just yet. Remy steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “How ‘bout I finish up in here, mon amour, and you take a lil’ break, hmm?” His voice is low and sultry, making it hard to refuse. Before you know it, he’s guiding you to sit at the kitchen table, a playful glint in his eyes as he takes over the cooking—though you know he’ll still have time to sneak in a flirtatious glance your way every few minutes.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler):

- You’re standing at the stove, focused on making Kurt’s favorite dish—something you’ve wanted to surprise him with all week. He’s been busy with missions lately, so you thought a home-cooked meal would be the perfect way to show him how much you appreciate him. But as you’re flipping something in the pan, your hand slips, and your finger briefly touches the hot metal. The sudden sting makes you yelp.

- In an instant, there’s a flash of blue, and Kurt appears at your side in a puff of sulfur-scented smoke, teleporting into the room the moment he hears you. “Liebes, are you hurt?” His bright yellow eyes widen with concern as he reaches for your hand, inspecting the burn. His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing over your skin like you’re made of porcelain. You can see the worry etched on his face, and it tugs at your heart.

- “It’s nothing,” you try to reassure him, but Kurt shakes his head, clicking his tongue softly. “Nein, even a small injury is too much for someone as precious as you.” His tail curls protectively around your waist, pulling you closer as he turns on the faucet and guides your hand under the cool water. The sensation is soothing, but more than that, it’s Kurt’s presence that calms you—his soft murmurs of reassurance, the way he leans in close, his concern for you palpable.

- Once he’s sure your burn is taken care of, Kurt teleports again, this time returning with a small bandage. “Just to be safe,” he insists, carefully wrapping your finger. His warm, affectionate nature shines through as he finishes, then presses a soft kiss to your hand. “You do so much for me, mein Schatz, but please let me help next time, ja?” His words are earnest, and his golden eyes glow with love. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his tail wrapping around your legs. “No more injuries. I need you safe,” he whispers, kissing your cheek softly before teleporting to finish cooking for you.

Scott Summers (Cyclops):

- You’re midway through cooking dinner when you feel a sudden sharp burn on your finger as you brush against a hot pan. Wincing, you step back from the stove, but before you can react further, Scott is already by your side. He must have heard your quiet hiss of pain from the other room. “Hey, what happened?” His voice is laced with concern, his eyes hidden behind his ever-present ruby-quartz glasses, but you can feel the intensity of his focus on you.

- Scott is always serious when it comes to your well-being, and it’s no different now. He gently takes your hand, leading you to the sink as he turns on the cold water. “You need to be more careful,” he says, his tone stern but not unkind. He’s always the logical one, quick to act in any situation, but there’s a softness in the way he holds your hand, ensuring the water soothes the burn.

- “I’m fine, Scott,” you try to reassure him, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He grabs a small first-aid kit from the nearby cabinet, carefully dabbing ointment on your burn before wrapping it with a bandage. “You’re always taking care of everyone else,” he murmurs, his hands steady but gentle. “But you need to let someone take care of you sometimes.” There’s a weight behind his words, a reflection of how much he shoulders as the leader of the X-Men, but in this moment, he’s only focused on you.

- Once your finger is properly bandaged, Scott gives your hand a gentle squeeze. His expression softens as he looks at you, and though his glasses hide his eyes, you know there’s a deep affection behind them. “I’ll finish up dinner,” he offers, though it’s less of a suggestion and more of a decision. Scott is always the one to step in when things go wrong, and even though it’s a small burn, his protective instincts kick in. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. “Next time, I’m staying in the kitchen with you,” he says with a small smile, his hand resting at the small of your back as he takes over the cooking.

Jean Grey:

- You’ve been busy in the kitchen all day, determined to make Jean’s favorite dish, and the aroma of the food fills the air. She’s sitting at the dining table, flipping through a magazine, occasionally looking up with a smile to watch you work. As you move the pan, your hand brushes against the hot metal, and the sudden pain makes you gasp. Before you can even call out, Jean is by your side, her telepathic link with you immediately picking up on your discomfort.

- “Oh no, let me see,” Jean says softly, already taking your hand in hers. Her green eyes are filled with concern as she inspects the burn, and though she’s usually calm and collected, you can tell she’s worried. With a wave of her hand, she uses her telekinesis to turn off the stove while guiding you to the sink.

- “You don’t need to push yourself so hard, Y/N,” she murmurs as she runs your hand under cold water. There’s a warmth in her voice, a quiet reassurance that makes you feel instantly better. Jean’s care is always gentle but firm, and as she tends to your burn, she smiles softly at you. “I know you want to take care of me, but it’s okay to let me take care of you too.”

- She moves her hand to your forehead, her touch cooling the heat of your skin as she uses a tiny bit of her telekinesis to ease the sting of the burn. Once she’s satisfied that the pain is manageable, Jean pulls you into a tender hug. “How about I help with dinner, and we finish this together?” she suggests, her voice filled with love. You know she’s only suggesting it so she can keep an eye on you, but you don’t mind. With Jean, everything feels safe and warm, even a simple evening in the kitchen.

Ororo Munroe (Storm):

- You love the sound of rain, and today it’s pouring outside as you stand in the kitchen, preparing a cozy meal for you and Ororo. She’s outside on the porch, enjoying the weather she summoned, the gentle rhythm of raindrops creating a peaceful backdrop. You’re lost in thought when you accidentally touch the edge of the hot pan, and the sharp pain makes you flinch, biting your lip to stifle a yelp.

- In an instant, Ororo is there, moving gracefully as she rushes to your side. “What happened?” she asks, her voice soft and soothing, like the rain outside. Her bright blue eyes are full of concern as she gently takes your hand in hers, examining the burn. Even with the storm raging outside, Ororo’s presence brings an immediate sense of calm.

- “Let me see,” she whispers, her fingers lightly brushing over your skin. The cool breeze from outside seems to follow her as she guides you to the sink, running your finger under cold water. You can feel the faintest touch of her powers as the air around you cools, helping to soothe the burn. Ororo is always so in control, her calm demeanor making you feel safe even in moments like this.

- “You must be more careful, my love,” she says, her tone gentle but firm. She reaches for a towel, patting your hand dry before wrapping a small bandage around your finger. As she tends to you, Ororo’s touch is filled with affection, her concern for you evident in every movement. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips cool and comforting. “How about we enjoy the rain together while I finish up here?” she offers, her smile radiant despite the storm. You nod, feeling grateful for her constant care and love.

Rogue:

- You’ve always loved cooking with Rogue. She’s a little clumsy in the kitchen, but her enthusiasm makes up for it. Tonight, though, you’ve taken over the cooking while she watches, leaning against the counter and making playful comments. You’re just about done when your hand slips, brushing against the hot pan. The sharp pain makes you wince, and Rogue’s eyes widen immediately.

- “Oh, sugar, what did ya do?” she asks, rushing over with concern written all over her face. She’s always so protective of you, and the moment she sees your burnt finger, she’s already grabbing a cold cloth to press against it. Rogue may have a tough exterior, but when it comes to you, she’s as gentle as can be.

- “Ya gotta be more careful,” she scolds softly, her Southern drawl filled with worry as she holds your hand. She doesn’t use her powers much when you’re together, but she treats you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. “Ah don’t wanna see ya hurt, not even a lil’ bit.” Her gloved hands are always so careful with you, and even though she can’t touch you skin to skin, you feel her love in every gesture.

- Rogue pulls you in close, her arms wrapping around you protectively. “How ‘bout we order takeout next time, huh?” she suggests with a small grin, her lips brushing lightly against your cheek. You can’t help but laugh at how serious she’s being over a small burn, but that’s just how Rogue is—always looking out for you. “Now come on, let me finish up here,” she insists, making sure you sit down while she handles the rest. Even though she’s a little clumsy, you know she’ll do anything to make sure you’re taken care of.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto):

- Cooking with Erik is always an interesting experience. He’s meticulous and precise, just like in everything he does, and tonight you’re both working together on dinner. You’ve just pulled a pan off the stove when your hand brushes against it, and the sharp sting makes you wince. Erik’s attention is immediately drawn to you, his eyes narrowing in concern.

- “Y/N, are you alright?” His voice is calm, but there’s a clear edge of worry as he steps closer, his hand already reaching for yours. You try to brush it off, but Erik isn’t one to let things slide. He carefully takes your hand in his, inspecting the small burn with a frown. “You need to be more cautious,” he murmurs, his tone a mixture of concern and reprimand.

- With a flick of his fingers, he uses his powers to bring a cold cloth over to you, pressing it gently against your burn. Erik is always so in control, even in small moments like this, and you can feel his intensity as he tends to you. He doesn’t say much, but the way he cradles your hand speaks volumes about how much he cares. Despite his stern exterior, Erik is always careful with you, his actions filled with quiet affection.

- “There,” he says after a moment, satisfied that the burn isn’t too serious. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Next time, let me handle the stove,” he adds, his voice softening as he presses a kiss to your temple. Erik may be a master of control and power, but with you, he’s always gentle. “You’re too important to me to risk getting hurt over something as trivial as this.” He holds you for a moment longer before guiding you to sit, insisting that he finish up dinner while you rest.

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 8 months ago

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8: SURPRISE!

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Bucky's surprise birthday party provides more surprises than you had hoped.

Word count 3.2k

Warnings: Birthday boy behaving badly, Priya is the warning here!

Erik’s sexual intervention had released you of the tension you felt whenever you were around Bucky and you realized that his birthday was quickly approaching. You made it your mission to start working on Bucky’s birthday party. The previous year he had flat out refused to let you throw him any festive gathering and you had only accepted that on one condition: he would get one this year. You had no intention of letting him wheedle his way out of it this year. He had begrudgingly agreed but only if it was something small and intimate with his friends only.

You had given Bucky a withering look. "Trust me! I know you well enough. You’re going to like it. I promise!"

You felt like a kid in a candy store, who had been given the keys to Willy Wonka’s entire kingdom. Glee was written across your features, you wanted everything to be perfect for your best friend. Steve was your trusty accomplice and you had invited Priya into the fold as a way to make up for your misdemeanors. She had suggested that you order food from Sticks and Stones because he loved the food there and even convinced Victor to help with the catering.

A week before the auspicious day, you had pulled Steve aside to ask him if he would accompany you to pick up Bucky’s birthday gift.

"Did you find it?" Steve asked you.

"The Glenn Miller vinyl?"

Steve nodded.

"Yeah, I found it! It’s in a vintage records store in SoHo." You smiled.

"Bucky’s going to love it. His family would play them all the time, he was such a natural dancer. It would be nice for him to do that again."

"I’m glad it’s got Captain America’s seal of approval!" you quipped cheekily.

Steve rolled his eyes, feeling relaxed and happy for once. "Do you want to go and pick it up now? I’ll drive. I can pick up my gift at the same time!"

"Oh that would be great, Steve! What did you get him?"

"You know that picture you took, the one of Bucky, you, me, Nat and Sam?"

"Yeah, I know the one."

"I painted it. There is a guy who said he would frame it and he texted me this morning saying it was ready to collect.

"Steve! I can’t wait to see it!" you squealed with excitement. "Let’s go!"

Both of you set off, climbing the stairs that led to the parking garage.

"Oh, Priya, hey! Didn't see you there!" you smiled at her as you noticed her presence at the top of the staircase.

Priya smiled back at you tersely.

"Everything okay?" Steve asked.

"Fine."

"Do you need a lift home?"

"No, I'm spending the night with Bucky."

"Ahh," Steve blushed at the implication of sex.

You rolled your eyes and tugged on Steve's sleeve. "Come on, punk. See you later Priya!"

March tenth came around quicker than expected. You waited impatiently for Bucky to arrive as his 'surprise’ party. Even though Priya was distracting him, Bucky knew about the events that had been planned. You knew he didn't like loud noises or jump scares, but he had promised to act suitably surprised.

Everything for the party went off without a hitch. The room was filled with dozens and dozens of black and gold balloons. Swing music was playing on the gramophone that Tony had purchased for the occasion. Sam cheekily had a cardboard cut out of Bucky made with his vibranium arm cut off so you could play ‘Pin the arm on Bucky’. You groaned but secretly you wanted to beat everyone.

Thor had made an appearance and was already half way through the bucketful of Asgardian ale, which he claimed to have brought for the birthday boy. Even Ayo, who you'd invited, had graced you with her presence. When she arrived, you flung your arms around the reserved Wakandan warrior. The Dora Milaje did not engage in public displays of emotion, but for you she offered a hug in return.

Things seemed to be going well. Bucky arrived with Priya and was greeted with yells and streamers. Bucky's surprise was convincing… possibly a little too dramatic, making Priya laugh and you groan exasperatedly. You stood on the side of the room watching everyone mingle, enjoying how Bucky's attention was demanded from everyone in the room. His friends were kind enough not to crowd him, or overwhelm him, but also make him feel special all at the same time.

It warmed your heart to see the light in his eyes, the enjoyment on his face. Priya was glued to his side, stroking his hair, whispering in his ear. His arm was constantly around her waist. She was the only thing that marred your perfect vision of the event.

"I am surprised that James chose that woman," Ayo appeared beside you, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Jesus, Ayo. We've talked about you sneaking around. Don't make me tie a bell around your ankles!"

Ayo smiled. "Why isn't that you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why haven't you told James how you feel?" Ayo doesn't wait for your reply. "It could be you dancing with him rather than standing here looking like a wallflower."

"Maybe you could dance with me."

"I think not, Y/N." Ayo never used your nickname.

"Way to let a girl down gently, Ayo."

Ayo just rolled her eyes at you and ventured over to Thor who was challenging everyone to a drinking contest, one which no one was engaging in. Steve was beside him, sipping the liquor carefully enjoying the buzz he rarely got to experience. Wanda and Vision were lovingly embraced in each other's arms in a corner, dancing like the rest of the world didn't exist. Nat was behind the bar serving her own special cocktails and flirting with a blushing Bruce. Clint and Laura were laughing with Pepper, while Tony, Sam and Rhodey were playing cards and making the most outrageous noise.

You loved your little found family, even though you missed the one that brought you up. Coulson's S.H.I.E.L.D. team had inducted you into the world of violence and espionage and aliens and time travel. It was with them that you'd learnt to control your powers and become worthy to call yourself an Avenger.

Agent Melinda May was the only member of the team you saw regularly anymore since she worked close by in the new S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy HQ. She had been your S.O. for many years and held a special place in your heart, despite her prickly exterior. She often joked that you would make an excellent addition to her staff at the Academy and to ensure that you lived long enough to accept the position when retiring from ‘that Avenger gig’.

You were brought out of your reverie about the past by Priya, who was standing on a chair shouting about it being time for presents.

Everyone cheered and you were grinning like a lunatic now. You felt excited to give Bucky your gift. The first edition Glenn Miller record was safely wrapped in a solid casing. In the Mood was the last song that Bucky and his family had danced to while he had been on leave from the War. His last happy memory of them before he had fallen from the life he had known, before he had been thrust into a world of ice and torture.

About a year ago, you had caught Bucky using your Spotify to listen to music from his childhood and had offhandedly mentioned this piece of information about his past. You kept hold of this precious tidbit for the right occasion.

Bucky had already started ripping open wrapping paper when you ventured over. Wanda had knitted him a black scarf with golden threads to match his arm, which had made him smile. Next Sam handed him a small black box which Bucky opened to find a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs.

"Thought you could use some props, spice life up a little," he winked at Bucky. Sam had a way of pushing Bucky's buttons, but you could see the mild blush on Bucky's cheeks which deepened when Priya interjected.

"Thank you very much, Samuel, but James and I don't need such tawdry things in the bedroom."

Bucky shrugged apologetically at Sam and you wondered if he was thinking about your recent conversation.

Sam was pushed aside by Thor, who deposited a large vat of ale into Bucky's arms. "Many happy returns, metal man." He patted Bucky on the back so hard that Bucky almost dropped his gift.

Bucky was depositing the alcohol on the gift table when he was approached by Ayo. "Happy Birthday, James."

"Thank you for coming, it means a lot that you took the time."

"You look like you are doing well for yourself."

"Yeah, it’s good," Bucky smiled.

"This is for you." She handed him a simple box with padding on the inside. Bucky opened it to find a pair of ornately decorated blades made from vibranium. Everyone gasped at how beautiful they looked in the dim lights. They collapsed in on themselves and were discrete and easy to conceal. Ayo pointed out a small device which acted like a homing beacon so Bucky would be able to locate them if he lost sight of them.

"These are incredible! Thank you."

Tony didn't have many words but he did hand Bucky a beautifully ornate envelope which Bucky opened tentatively. Inside was an invitation to a magnificent moonlit dinner on a yacht on the Hudson. Bucky held the gift reverently in his hands, his vibranium fingers barely gripping, as though their strength might make the gift crumble. His eyes glistened in the party lights, a thin film of unshed tears. There had been a time where they were ready to kill each other, and even now they never spent any time alone together. You knew that this gift meant a lot to Bucky.

"Dinner on a boat? I think we'll have to pass on that, I get sea sick." Priya commented, gazing at the gift certificate around Bucky's arm.

A flicker of irritation crossed Tony's face, before he grinned mischievously. "Not a problem, it's not person specific. Manchurian Candidate here can take anyone he likes. Capsicle might not be a fan of the food, but I think Cricket would really enjoy the cuisine."

He turned to wink at you, making you blush. You couldn’t help but notice the scowl on Priya’s face, no matter how short lived it was and you knew you were about to meet your comeuppance when the glowering look she was shooting in your direction turned into a beaming smile.

"Jamie! It’s my turn, baby. I have a very special gift for you!" She hands him a thin square shaped gift wrapped in shiny golden wrapping paper. "Here!"

You felt a sudden weight on your chest, a feeling of dread washing over you. It felt like things were moving in slow motion, watching Bucky unwrap the gift. You didn’t know what you had been expecting when he pulled out a shiny record cover. It was as though someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you, except you were paralyzed. The color drained from your face as you realized what the album was.

‘The Very Best of Glenn Miller.’

Bucky’s eyes shone brightly as he dropped the wrapping paper and ran his flesh fingers over the cover reverently. "Priya," he gasped in a whisper. "I- it's perfect." Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest and giving her a long, passionate kiss. "I love it! I love you!"

You barely noticed Steve sideling up to you, you couldn't hear him asking if you were okay. That was your gift. It was yours! If you didn’t have the vinyl you’d bought and so lovingly wrapped in your hand, you’d think she had stolen it from you. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, every attempt you made felt futile, like the air around you had left the room. He had shared the same things with her, you thought he trusted you with his past, but you weren't as special as you thought you were.

Eventually you looked up when Steve put a gentle hand on your shoulder. He whispered, almost as though his words he was about to use were criminal. "Do you remember when we were talking last week? Before we went to pick up our gifts? You don’t think she overheard us… do you? And…"

In the end, it didn’t really matter. You knew in the moment that you’d lost Bucky forever. Everything felt far away, the room was suffocating, why were there so many people? Tears burned in your orbital sockets, drowning you from the inside out. You couldn’t face them anymore, seeing the happiness on Bucky’s face, knowing that someone else was responsible for that smile, that light inside him, was heartbreaking. Ultimately, you wanted him to be happy but you wanted to share that joy with him, you wanted to be the one to give it to him and watching that mantle being taken from you and bequeathed to another person was soul crushing. Gripping your present tightly, you slipped out of the room, Steve watching your retreating footsteps with sympathy, but knowing not to follow.

A few tears escaped as you found refuge in the kitchen, but you had no desire to explain red eyes and a blotchy nose to any of the other team members or party goers, so you wiped them away angrily, taking a few calming breaths before pouring yourself a strong drink. You sank onto a bar stool, shoving the record onto the chair to your right, you had no use for it anymore. There had barely been time for you to take 2-3 sips from your drink before Bucky popped his head into the room.

"Cricket? There you are!"

"Hey Buck! Having a good time?" You plastered a smile on your face, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Deception in this case was a futile attempt, Bucky was well versed in the movements of your face. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," you lied. "Just getting a drink."

"There are plenty of drinks back there."

He looked searchingly into your eyes and the facade you had erected was crumbling. You looked away, dropping your head to try and hide your face with your hair.

"It was just a bit much, everyone there… I don’t know, I feel a little… overwhelmed."

Too much drain of the social battery, Bucky was familiar with that. He pulled out the chair on your left, almost giving you a heart attack because you had momentarily forgotten which chair you’d left the present on.

"If you want to give me my gift here, we can do it privately. Everyone else is done," Bucky suggested, leaning towards you.

The smell of his cologne was intoxicating. Suddenly you felt angry that he was there, why couldn’t he give you a moment to grieve? Constantly invading your space, reminding you of what you couldn’t have, dangling the carrot but keeping it just out of reach. "Well you already have the perfect gift from your girlfriend, what more do you need?" You couldn’t keep the bitterness out of your tone.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. But the damage was done. There was a deathly silence between you where you were afraid to look at your best friend.

"You know, I thought I would have you both in my life; my best friend and my girlfriend. I feel like you’re making me choose you over her and it’s not fair, Cricket! I’ve tried, I really have but you’re making it impossible! So you know what, I’m going to have to choose Priya. At least she bothered to put some effort into getting me a birthday gift. I can have a future with her."

The worst thing about his words were the disappointment and finality in his tone. And with that he left you alone with only your thoughts for company. A storm raged inside you, a maelstrom of emotions; anger, betrayal, abandonment, rejection, loss, just outright pain. How could he? How could he choose her over you? After everything you had been through together, the bond you had forged, the absolute faith and trust you had put in each other. Did it mean nothing to him? Did you mean nothing to him?

Trudging back to your room, you sought comfort in your giant bed, hoping it would envelope you completely. Wrapping the duvet around your body and over your head, you buried your face in a pillow and allowed the tears to fall. Once the gates had opened, the trickle of tears became a flood as you sobbed into your pillow to muffle the sound.

Why did he have to choose? Why didn’t he choose you? The pain in your chest was unbearable, a physical ache that matched the emotional turmoil inside you. You had tried so hard to make things work, to give him a balance of your friendship with his relationship with Priya, but now it seemed like all your efforts had been in vain. He had made his choice, and it wasn’t with you.

As you lay there in your bed, the tears continued to flow, a never-ending stream of sadness and heartbreak. You felt like a piece of you had been ripped away, leaving a raw, gaping wound in its place. How could you move on from this? How could you ever trust anyone again, knowing that they could just choose someone else over you?

You sighed, you knew now that you would never be good enough for him. Everything you’d tried to hold on to, had done nothing but push him away. You remembered when you had first understood your feelings, you’d considered pulling away to protect yourself. But Bucky had reeled you back in, constantly asking if he had done something to hurt you. So you’d given in, telling yourself you didn’t want to hurt him. But in reality, it had been selfish, you had indulged in a fantasy and ended up hurting the man you loved and getting hurt in the process.

You startled as a door slammed shut nearby. It was Bucky’s bedroom door, you could hear Priya giggling and Bucky’s deep voice through the wall. Your body froze with shock, the last thing you needed right now was to listen to your best friend having sex with his girlfriend. You shoved your airpods into your ears and turned up one of your lo-fi playlists and closed your eyes.

The decision you should have made then, was far more clear to you now. Your friend and old superior officer from your S.H.I.E.L.D. team had repeatedly offered you the chance to teach with her at the newly formed Coulson Academy. She had taught you everything you knew and believed in your ability to impart the knowledge you’d gained to potential agents. It was time for you to take her up on this offer.

As you wiped away your tears and made a decision to move forward, you knew that it was time to focus on yourself and your own happiness. Bucky had made his choice, and now it was time for you to make yours. You couldn’t continue to dwell on what would never be, on the pain of rejection and heartbreak.

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @belleofthebooks @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @love-isnt-greed @hhiggs @winters1917 @blackhawkfanatic @calwitch @learisa @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lillianacristina @mostlymarvelgirl @wintercrow @buckitostan @crist1216 @bisexualnikkisixx @robynjasp

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

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groenendaelfic · 9 months ago

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I have quite literally not stopped thinking about the basket baby snippet since you posted it! I'm happy to wait but can I be cheeky and ask for any more tidbits, how ever tiny, about the basket baby fic? Like baby name reveal, another snippet, chapter 2 outline...anything at all please I will give you my first born child! (I am amypond on ao3 btw - happy for you to publish this ask)

ah basket baby! Thank you for not forgetting, and of course you can always ask. I love basket baby. One day it will even be born. Why oh why can't I write fic full time, I would be so much more productive and efficient 😅

For a few very foolish seconds Simon considers naming the baby Wilhelm.

He loves Wilhelm and he misses him, can't imagine what he must have been going through this past year, alone safe for the very much not amused Royal Court, no doubt at some estate hidden away in the countryside, not even allowed the familiarity of his own rooms.

He also hates Wilhelm. For not finding a way to tell him, to have them be together, because surely, surely it can't be that impossible, can it?

Except of course it can. Simon's mom was accosted by Royal Court lawyers at work, and that was them being nice. It is exactly that impossible.

Tears spring to his eyes. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. It'd hurt to much. It'll hurt anyway, holding the baby in his arms, knowing it's the only part of Wilhelm he'll ever get to hold again.

He already loves the child more than his own life, and the more he looks at the tiny, scrunched up face getting ready to cry, the more he can see Wilhelm reflected in it.

He shifts his grip, pulls the baby closer and hums a melody he hopes is soothing. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. The baby is not Wilhelm, and it deserves better, deserves its own name. One which isn't a constant reminder of its unreachable parent.

Not that he'd be allowed. No matter how popular the name Wilhelm in all its forms has remained in Sweden ever since Wilhelm was born. The Royal Court would not allow it, and Simon can't risk angering them before the baby isn't officially his and he has the paperwork to prove it.

So not Wilhelm then, he thinks, as the baby bursts into tears. Simon would give anything to be able to cry along, to crumble and break, but he's a father now and his child comes first, even if he has no clue what to do.

He just put on a fresh diaper with the patient help of his mom and it can't be time for another bottle.

"He can sense that you're upset," his mom explains when he asks, and oh doesn't that suck.

He doesn't put the baby back in its basket however, nor does he hand it to his mom. Instead he cuddles it closer and starts humming again.

His precious, precious child. His and Wilhelm's.

A tear rolls down his face. He's hurt and angry and scared, hating the Royal Court and the world and everything for being so absolutely, thoroughly unfair.

Everything except his baby, who is innocent and beautiful and perfect.

It didn't ask to be born, and certainly not into a family like this, to a legacy like this. The monarchy is not its only legacy however, and suddenly Simon knows what he's going to call it.

Not a Swedish name. Nothing to tie it to the long line of ancestors who want nothing to do with it. Not Carl or Magnus or Gustav. Not Erik either, or at least not as a first name.

Something Spanish. Something to ensure his child will never consider itself an unwanted royal bastard too embarrassing to be acknowledged.

Something powerful. A reminder that he is also part Venezuelan, and that that is something to be proud of.

Yes. He'll name the baby after his maternal grandmother. There is no person living or dead he can think of who is stronger or more determined in the face of hardship than his abuela.

It will make her happy, it will make him happy, and if royals can do it, then he can do it, too. Only better and with less toxicity, less historical baggage to weigh it down.

He'll make sure no one will ever compare his precious baby boy to anyone. Will ensure he'll get to pave his own path however he wants. He loves his child, his and Wilhelm's, and whatever he can do to keep it safe he will.

"Alejandro," he tells his mother, and because he can't ignore Wilhelm's one single request adds, "Alejandro Erik Eriksson."

For a moment he considers using the Spanish version for Erik as well, if only out of spite, but that wouldn't be fair to Wilhelm. That, and it would remind him too much of his mom's favorite singer.

His mother bites her lip and nods.

It's the right choice. The only choice, and Simon can only hope little Alejandro will think so, too.

#basket baby #ask me anything #young royals #wilmon #fic snippet #young royals fic

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iwritelmao · 3 months ago

Text

The Maximoffs

Summary: Erik's trauma and family drama

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5 Coming Soon)

Erik lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Charles had been grading papers in his office for hours. However, Erik suspected the other man was probably face down on his desk by then. The last time this happened, when Erik went to go wake him, the professor just got right back to work, so he decided to make him get his sleep any way he could.

"Nina," He whispered into the darkness out of pure habit. "I can't hide for much longer." There was no answer of course. There never was. But Nina had always been a quiet child, so he understood. "It was easier to pretend it wasn't true with Peter, but now..."

The man sighed.

"If I say something... if I make it true... they're both in danger. Doomed to your fate," Erik's voice was barely audible, but he was sure it would carry just enough. "I've done bad things, Nina, but there is some blood that is not so easy to wash from my hands."

Suddenly, the door opened. He heard the rolling across wood floors before he saw the silhouette of Charles Xavier approaching the bed. Erik began to sit up. "Let me-"

"No, stay where you are," Charles said. "I'm just fine."

Erik turned his head to look at the man who had gotten into bed right next to him. "You're still dressed."

Charles's eyes were already closed. "I think I can risk a wrinkled shirt for the sake of going to sleep ten minutes earlier. I'm exhausted." Erik hummed in acknowledgment then looked back up at the ceiling. The weight of his thoughts already started to come back to him until he felt a soft and familiar nudge in his mind.

Carry on. I understand.

Erik let himself smile before closing his eyes. "Goodnight, Nina." Silence. "And goodnight Charles." He heard soft snoring next to him and let out a sigh of contentment before he finally closed his eyes.

Wanda crept through the halls of the school until dawn. When the sun finally rose and children started flooding the halls, the young woman pushed open the front doors and walked down the driveway, weaving in between the bushes along the pavement, crossing from side to side, all to put her mind into a quiet state. She'd learned over time that sometimes her thoughts were too loud, her mind too bright, like a flare in the dark. She'd learned this because sometimes, even though Professor Xavier said he never intentionally read anyone's mind, he asked questions about things he should not have known. And sometimes, when Wanda used her powers for anything more than pulling a book off of a shelf, he winced in pain.

Maybe that was why they kicked her out of college. Maybe she was hurting people and she didn't even know it. Wanda scoffed and shook her head. No, it wasn't that. She knew deep down the real reason was-

Wanda turned around just in time to see the car stop short in front of her. There were skid marks on the asphalt. She stood unmoving, eyes wide, as the driver's seat door was thrown open.

"What the hell were you doing in the middle of the road?!" Erik yelled, slamming the car door behind him without laying a hand on it. "If I wasn't paying attention-"

"Why wouldn't you be paying attention behind the wheel?" Wanda asked incredulously, unable to find any other words. She glanced down to see that the hood was a mere few inches from her legs.

He let out an astonished breath of laughter, then muttered something under his breath along the lines of, "too much like your brother,"

"And not enough like you?" She fired back. There was a strong silence followed by a weak almost whisper. "You know... don't you?"

Erik Lehnsherr looked away but said nothing.

"It's okay," Wanda said in an eerily even tone. "I don't know many estranged fathers who willfully reconnect with their bastard children, especially not children who grow up to be such disappointments-"

"Stop!" Wanda flinched at the loud noise. The scarlet threads that she'd unconsciously conjured up had dissolved, causing the car to fall to the ground from the foot in the air it was suspended. Her father used his powers to instantly steady the vehicle once it landed. "I'm not the father you want."

Wanda scoffed. "You think I care? Peter cares." She said. "He's been losing his mind over your avoidant bullshit, so go explain it to him." She turned around to leave.

"Wanda-"

"Fuck off."

"Wanda!" Her chain bracelet tugged her back a bit. The young woman turned around with a look of growing rage on her face. Red energy weaved around her hands. "You need to understand... that anyone I dare to call family ends up dead."

The red lessened but didn't go away. "Well, you don't need to worry about me because I already have more family than I know what to do with. And as for Peter, he can hold his own just fine against whatever pseudo-curse you're dealing with."

Erik Lehnsherr looked at his daughter with a sense of grief in his eyes, then nodded.

"I have to go write a paper," Wanda said, crossing her arms. "But you need to talk to Peter. Or I will, and I won't sugarcoat shit."

She walked past him, past the car, down the driveway, and back to the school to write a paper on the historical significance of War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy.

#erik lehnsherr #marvel #magneto #peter maximoff #quicksilver #the maximoff twins #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #xavier's school for gifted youngsters #x men #x men fanfiction

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anonymousredactedconfessions · 1 year ago

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Since this is a safe space, I too have my confessions for the Summit Audio and other plot stuff as well. This is very long so bear with me

*drum roll 🥁🥁🥁🥁*

I am disappointed with Darlin's storyline! :DD

What the hell happened to character development? And can we please keep talking about how it's getting annoying when Darlin just stands there while everyone else just speaks for them? I've been waiting for so long for the moment where we get to see that Darlin' finally stopped hopping on the fight/defensive option immediately without thinking shit through.

Cuz I know damm well they were already planning on giving Alexis the business when they heard her voice. I was waiting on them to be more verbal and civil with their confrontation rather than jumping to "You know I've fought vampires before, right?" Like COME ONNN MAN

I agree with the other recent confessions in this blog cuz yeah, will they ever get the agency they deserve?? And what the hell was up with Porter coming in to "save the day" and Sam zipping back out of know where (btw where the hell have you been bro??). And even when Alexis left, Darlin still wasn't able to get a word in.

Does Darlin notice this too or are we never gonna get that moment where they finally snap and make people remember that they are an adult and can progress their life by making their own decisions. They don't always need someone for that and it takes away from their "independence".

Plus ( as much as I love my cowboy) woulda been more upset to Sam when he not only not listened to Darlin talk as they told him what bullshit she said to them and give them the reassurance they needed in that moment, mf started sayin shit like "she's a real person under there, I know it" because no way in hell would I believe that if the person we're talking about is proud of ASSAULTING a person she "claims to love" and also waited until the Monarchal Summit to confront Darlin where there's tons of people around to confront them like a pissy, jealous school girl.

Also I feel like Darlin and David's relationship hasn't been done well enough. Not even just them and David but just the pack in general. The smash tournaments and Solstice party's are cool but when are we actually gonna have a video where it's just the pack? No mates, Sam included and it's just the four of them? (i.e. David, Ash, Darlin, and Milo)

To me, it makes a lot of sense why Darlin felt out of place cuz they don't get mentioned a lot when they're not around, only when Sam is included in the conversation. It feels like they don't exist without their mate around so it's not fully Darlin's fault that they left and ended up in the wrong crowd.

And it's frustrating to see those chat group posts where it's supposed to be The Packs Mates Groupchat thingy but instead of Sam they put Darlin in. Or Sam is there but so is Darlin. Like huh??? Is Sam a part of the damm pack now???? All the more reason why I get Darlin' almost leaving the pack, they seem as someone who's forgettable.

Erik should at least give Darlin a nickname name or some code shit to address them without just having to say "my pack member" or "my partner", and (my least favorite) "Sam's mate". Just give them the nick name Tank like everyone else so you don't have to worry about addressing them by saying anything vague and unspecific.

Sorry but Darlin feels too much like a character than a listener to be written as someone who just stands there from the sidelines and watches as everyone speaks for them. I NEED them to be making a decision that continues the plot, not someone who made it for them. They deserve better as a character and I will die on that hill. BUT that's just me. Have a good day/night!

-💜🐺

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #confessions #💜🐺

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roosterbox · 1 year ago

Text

October Almost-Drabbles 10/11: Haunted

Pairing(s): Cherik (one-sided), Charles/Moira (implied)

Word Count: 686

Additional tags: modern AU, ghost!erik, cockblock!erik, jealous!erik, pining, angst, and they were roommates

Side note: finally something other than straight fluff, lmao. I swear I originally intended this to be slightly more comedic than angsty. But Erik said “No, I must pine,” and who am I to deny him? Also, the Cherik might not be completely one-sided, but Charles is a bit too angry and frustrated to deal with any other feelings, in this little fic at least.

———

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Charles, soaked through to the bone, glared at the apparition sitting at his table. The being didn’t look at him. Rather, they kept their focus on the kitchen sink currently gushing water out into the apartment floor. Gradually, the flow stopped.

“She wasn’t right for you,” Erik said. His ghostly voice was aloof, as if he couldn’t care less about Moira’s ruined outfit, or the money Charles would likely have to spend on repairs. He still wouldn’t meet Charles’ gaze, however.

“And you feel as if you have a say in the matter because…?”

The spirit didn’t answer. Charles wasn’t surprised. Just this once, he thought that bringing a date home might have gone alright. That they could have a nice meal, a fun evening, maybe even a nice second romp in the morning, before parting ways.

He should have known better.

“Look, Erik,” Charles let out a sigh, sitting down across from the figure that had once been a living man. He did his best to ignore the wet squelch of his pants and boxers as he sat. His next stop should definitely be his bedroom though, preferably before he started to chafe. “I already promised that I wouldn’t have you exorcised, or force you out. I said it, I meant it, and I don’t go back on my word. But-” the other man finally looked at him, and Charles again found himself wondering what color his eyes had been, when he was alive. “-but we’re roommates, essentially. Nothing more. I’ve got a life that needs living.” At Erik’s scowl, he added a quick, “no offense intended, of course.”

“She wasn’t right for you,” Erik repeated, a bit softer this time. Charles rolled his eyes. He’d begun shivering slightly, the cold Autumn air bleeding through the thin walls of his (their) apartment. He made a mental note to text Moira and make sure that she, similarly soaked as he, was safe and warm at home. For now, though, he rose up.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, voice flat. “Just as soon as I grab a few towels to…” he trailed off, watching the water recede, pool together, and evaporate in record time. Even the broken sink seemed to repair itself before his eyes. In any other circumstance, this would have been a shocking thing to witness. But after a year of living with a being such as Erik, almost nothing surprised him these days.

“Your clothes,” the ghost said, more apologetic than Charles expected.

“Never mind them. I’ll throw them in the wash.” He waved his hand dismissively, considering their conversation finished. “Good night, Erik.” An ironic sentiment, considering his evening after coming home had been anything but. He retreated to his bedroom, wet socks leaving a trail of footprints behind him, before closing the door, hard, behind him. A full stop on the end of an unspoken sentence. After a moment, the footprints evaporated too.

“Good night, Charles,” Erik said to the empty apartment kitchen. Now, alone again, it was his turn to sigh. To tuck his head into ghostly hands and wish, not for the first time nor the last, that the space in his chest where a heart may have resided didn’t clench so painfully any time he thought of himself without Charles. It wasn’t fair. He knew that. But at the same time…

He stood, in as much as an incorporeal being can, and made his way over to the closed door. Charles was showering. He could always tell where Charles was in this place, though he made sure never to peep or spy. And even now, while he could easily phase right through the wooden door, he only pressed a hand against it. Feeling the warm spirit radiating from the other man inside.

“Good night, Charles,” he said again, whispering as if he thought the other man might have heard him through the bedroom door and the en-suite. Other words burned in his stomach, but he knew there was really nothing more to say. Nothing that Charles would want to hear, at least.

#october drabbles #cherik #ghost au #the sheer angst and pining of a ghost falling in love with a living human #ghost Erik is an absolute menace #and jealous as fuck #lol #she doesn’t actually appear here #but poor Moira #her dress was ruined

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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 years ago

Text

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4, Chapter 57″

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

youtube

"Listen as your day unfolds Challenge what the future holds Try and keep your head up to the sky Lovers, they may cause you tears Go ahead, release your fears Stand up and be counted Don't be ashamed to cry

You gotta be You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold, you gotta be wiser You gotta be hard, you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together All I know, all I know, love will save the day"

Des'ree – "Ya Gotta Be"

"Damn him!"

Disa tossed her comm tab stylus pen across her office and it struck the Phase Two model she built for the new man-made island she was to design. Her building team meeting had been going well until Adebiyi of the Jabari mountains criticized her roofing drafts. She had gone out of her way to request a skilled builder from the estranged tribe as a sign of goodwill to stave off criticism from other Wakandan design firms who lost the bidding war to create the new expansion of Wakanda onto the sea.

For hundreds of years, the Wakandans had protected their oceanfront by keeping it well-guarded and staying away from constant usage to keep other bordering nations from seeing what they had. Wakandan fishermen from the Border Tribe played their role as humble citizens, eking out a living on small boats. Luckily, the geography of their mountain range and their camouflage technology made the land on the beach untouchable for outsiders. Disa thought for months upon her arrival in the country that Wakanda was landlocked and was surprised to see the ocean for the first time with Yani and the children to honor Erik's birthday before they knew he was alive. They had a little birthday party for Sydette and she glimpsed the first man-made island territory when they did a flyover so the children could see what belonged to their new home and where Erik and N'Jobu's staunch supporters inhabited. There was also a quick trip to see the work ships on standby where the second island expansion would be built under her guidance. How the Wakandans lived cloaked in plain sight was astounding.

Five other design firms competed to build the new expansion, already miffed that they gave her the international embassy contract. Disa one-upped them all by asking for a Jabari team member to offset claims of her not understanding traditional structures. Who better to know Wakandan tradition than the Jabari people who left the nation because the others refused to hold on to it?

Adebiyi was sent to her, and at first, he was a quiet observer who listened to her ideas and inspected her early sketch designs. Then he began showing his ass, complaining about the materials she wanted to use and putting down her desire to have Wakandans involved with the design process. He was an artisan, and she fell in love with the work he had done in the Jabari lands. His middle-aged crotchety attitude polluted her office, and she regretted choosing him for her team. He was xenophobic, smug, and disparaging of her foreign ways. She kept her professional cool and refused to let him get under her skin where he could see how much he irked her. Disa was grateful when Yani showed up, freeing her for a few minutes from the Jabari tyrant. He was going to be a thorn in her side until Phase Two was completed. Kembintu, Atta, and T'Mbeze, her three other team members, rolled their eyes and gave subtle sighs whenever their gatherings turned into shouting matches. Disa made a note to ask T'Challa to come check the man and put the others on notice at the next family meal.

She whisked herself into the front office, and Yani looked frightened. Her normally warm brown skin looked unhealthy, and Disa immediately wanted to comfort her. With all the things they had been through, she still looked at Yani as a younger sibling. The fact that the woman came to her before anyone else with her fears showed Disa that she was trusted and her opinions on things still mattered to Yani.

After they spoke, Disa returned to her office and found it difficult to concentrate on her work. Even Adebiyi's spiel on some unimportant matter failed to get a rise in her. The man grumbled about her under his breath and the other team members ignored him while they planned a field trip out on the sea to supervise the installation of the island foundation. She pulled it together to finish a long day and practically ran to her suite to gulp down a glass of plum liquor.

A long bubble bath brought her back to life. She dressed in a lovely pink dinner dress and pinned her hair up for a sophisticated look. Disa enjoyed dinners with the entire family. It had become a rare event after the mourning period and she looked forward to seeing everyone, especially Riki and Sydette. Strolling through the palace on her way to the dining room, she met up with Umama and Baba Z. They were dressed in matching saffron robes, a sign that they would travel back to the Jabari mountains to wait for Erik's return. Umama rubbed Disa's arm with affection as Dante arrived with Joba carrying flowers from her fairy garden. Her daughter presented the bouquet to her great-grandparents and received kisses and a big hug from both Umama and Baba Z.

Attendants opened the dining room doors, and Yani arrived with Riki and Sydette. Joba squealed and ran to her brother first before Sydette picked her up and swung her around once. More hugs and kisses were given. Disa studied Yani's face. It still looked distraught.

Taking their places around the table, T'Challa, Shuri, and Ramonda soon joined them. The evening meal was filled with lots of vegetarian dishes, a hearty potato soup, and chickpea samosas. Yani glanced at Disa, cleared her throat, and brought everyone's attention to her when it was time for dessert.

"Will Erik have to fight again when he takes the throne?" Yani asked.

T'Challa didn't break eye contact with her, but Shuri glanced over at Ramonda and her grandparents. The silence around the table answered the question in the affirmative.

"He will face other tribes who have the right to challenge him," T'Challa said.

"You would have him risk his life again after all he's been through?" Disa asked.

"It is a tradition. We cannot take power until we give others a fair opportunity to rule," Baba Z said.

"Sydette… Riki… Joba… take your dessert out onto the patio with Hlano," Ramonda said.

The dining room attendant ushered the children with their small bowls of coconut and sweet potato pudding.

"What if he's killed? What will happen?" Yani said.

"He will not die," T'Challa said.

"But what if he does?" Disa asked, hating the sound of the words on her tongue.

T'Challa wiped his lips with a linen napkin and sighed.

"Riki or Joba would be chosen as his successor and I would become a regent until they came of age to take over ruling," T'Challa said.

"No one has ever beaten an Udaku… except for another Udaku," Baba Z said.

"When Killmonger beat T'Challa," Yani said.

"There have been other Udakus who have challenged family members before, centuries ago. N'Jadaka was not the first," Baba Z said.

"Can he refuse?" Disa asked.

"No," T'Challa said.

"This is acceptable to you? Him possibly dying again?" Yani said.

"My grandson will not die," Umama said.

The older woman cradled her chin with her hands.

"When he comes down from the mountain, no one will defeat him. Not here in Wakanda, or out there in the world," Umama said.

Baba Z put a hand on T'Challa's shoulder.

"With T'Challa by his side, we will enter a new age. I never thought I would see something like this, and I ruled this country for a long time. The Black Panther and the Golden Jaguar, together… it has never been done before," Baba Z said with pride.

Their confidence bolstered Yani's faith, and she sat up in her seat, relaxing her shoulders. Disa put her trust in the lineage. Erik wasn't facing another Udaku again.

"Set aside your fears, Yani. Bast would never allow N'Jadaka to be taken from us again," Umama said.

Disa reached for Yani's hand and squeezed it.

Dinner ended on a positive note and Disa mentioned her work issues to T'Challa. She tried not to sound like a bitter snitch, but her reputation was on the line, and having Adebiyi question her skills on every little step was beyond disrespectful. She wanted to use a diplomatic way to bitch slap the Jabari artisan without upsetting M'Baku.

"I will look into this for you," T'Challa said.

Disa sighed with relief. An inquiry from the king helped a lot, especially since he supported her all the way. A little chin check didn't hurt anyone out of pocket. T'Challa tapped his kimoyo beads as their dessert plates were cleared away.

"M'Baku, may I request a favor? Can you bring Adebiyi to the East tea room?"

Disa's eyebrows shot up on her forehead.

"Now?" she whispered to T'Challa.

He held up a hand to pause her. M'Baku's half-form floated in front of T'Challa.

"I can," M'Baku said.

"Let us meet in ten minutes," T'Challa said.

He tapped his bead and glanced over at Disa.

"M'Baku is staying in the palace this week overseeing some official business. We can go talk now."

Disa tilted her head with surprise.

"Better to handle it tonight before you face off again tomorrow," T'Challa said.

Disa glanced at Yani.

"I can take the children to your place with Dante," Yani said.

Dante was already up and ushering his great-grandchildren back from the patio/terrace. Umama and Baba Z joined him by the dining room door.

"Thanks," Disa said.

She followed T'Challa and his Doras to the elegant tea room. Moments later, M'Baku appeared with a gallant stride, followed by Adebiyi.

"Lady Abdullah," M'Baku said, giving her a warm gap-toothed smile.

"Hello, M'Baku," Disa said.

Adebiyi already had down-turned lips, but she noticed how different he looked with regular clothing on. He and M'Baku both wore casual robes much different from the official look of the Jabari people when they interacted with the Wakandans. Her nemesis rolled his eyes at first, and then he took in her dressed-up appearance with a trace of surprise. She looked away quickly to let T'Challa speak.

"M'Baku, Lady Abdullah has some differences to work out with Adebiyi that have come to my attention," T'Challa said.

The king's serious eyes darted over to Disa, and she cleared her throat and held her head high.

"The man doesn't respect my expertise or the way I handle the Phase Two project. I can't continue working with someone who fights against my vision. I have great respect for Adebiyi's artistry, but we cannot work together in the future if he continues to second-guess me," she said.

Adebiyi stared at her as if she had thrown grits on him and puffed up his chest. M'Baku held a hand up to him and stared at Disa.

"Adebiyi is the best in our land. Trained by an elder artisan from a long line extending seven hundred years. You will find no one better. I do not say this because he is my wife's brother, but because he is the greatest builder we have."

Disa blinked several times and took a deep inhale.

"He is your brother-in-law?" she squeaked out.

M'Baku nodded.

"With all due respect, Lady Abdullah, I do not feel that I have disrespected you. Challenged you, yes. Brought issues to your attention that I think you overlook, yes. I am a blunt man and perhaps that is something you are unaccustomed to," Adebiyi said.

His lips grew tight, and he crossed his bulky arms, looking smug and justified in his behavior.

"Cultural differences can create friction when two people from unique places come together," T'Challa said, trying to smooth over the tension.

"I've traveled the world," Disa said, "he has not. I'm accustomed to working with all kinds of people, but Adebiyi treats me like I'm beneath him. I am Lady Abdullah from the House of Udaku. The mother of a royal. I demand civility at all times and this is something he has a problem with because he sees me as an inferior—"

"Have I ever called you inferior, Lady Abdullah?" Adebiyi asked.

He stepped toward her and M'Baku lowered his eyes as if he expected his extended family member to act a fool.

"You treat me as such. No words need to be spoken if it is understood by body language, tone, and sucking of teeth—"

Adebiyi sucked his teeth.

"See? Shit like that!" Disa shouted.

Her loud voice startled Adebiyi, and he quickly stepped back in the king's presence. Disa took advantage of the royal support and sauntered over to the arrogant man.

"I have won awards all over the world. I chose you to work with me because I respect your craft, your experience, and your knowledge of Wakandan history. I'm exceptional at what I do. Work with me, not against me. If my ideas and plans are not up to snuff, come at me as a colleague and your superior with respect. I'm a big girl and can handle critiques and concerns. I will not, however, tolerate the way you act in front of other people. Bringing this matter to the king was the last thing I wanted to do, but since you act so ridiculous… here we are," she said.

"Kumkani, I am not a man who would treat a member of your family with disrespect," Adebiyi said.

"Tuh," Disa said, folding her own arms.

"Untighten your tongue and speak to her," T'Challa said, placing his arms behind his back and stepping next to M'Baku. The Jabari leader touched the back of his neck and pursed his lips with discomfort at the situation. He eyed Adebiyi with quiet contemplation.

Adebiyi looked at Disa with humiliation in his eyes. Being chastised in front of the king and his brother-in-law had to have knocked him down a peg or two.

"May we speak together in privacy, Adebiyi and I?" Disa said.

T'Challa held out his hand and had M'Baku follow him out of the tearoom.

"This was unnecessary. You could have spoken to me before running off to tattle like some child," Adebiyi hissed.

"I tried to speak to you several times, but you were dismissive and rude. You left me no choice but to speak to the king."

"Now what? Am I supposed to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness? I did this project as a favor for my youngest sister. I could care less about working for you."

"Do you always have to be a dick?"

"I am forthright and honest."

"You are, and I get down with that… I really do Adebiyi. But sometimes you make me feel like I'm trash and it hurts me."

Disa held her head down, not expecting to tell him her deepest feelings. She turned away and wiped at her eyes.

"I have a lot on my plate... a lot of expectations weighing on me. I'm one of the first immigrants to your country, and my presence… my family's presence, has changed your country so much. I don't know if that angers you and makes you want to sabotage my work… or if you genuinely just hate anyone who isn't Jabari—"

"I don't hate you."

Disa glanced back at him. He lowered his head.

"I am sorry if I made you feel bad about yourself. In my work, I am always in charge. Working for you has been difficult. Sometimes I do not see your vision, and others pretend they do. I speak out because… that is how I am."

"It feels like you are attacking me personally, not what's on the table," she said.

"I will give the king my resignation—"

"I'm asking you to believe in me, Adebiyi."

"I do not think I can, Lady Abdullah. We are too different."

"This disappoints me. When I told your sister that I chose you, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She is so proud of you and your talents. Her last words to me when I saw her in person were, 'You will be so impressed with what Adebiyi can do'. She didn't even tell me you were her brother."

Adebiyi's eyes grew soft at the sound of his sister's name. His broad shoulders slumped forward, and he wiped his forehead.

"If you quit, it will only reflect poorly on you. Not me. I know what I'm doing and I need your gifts," she said.

He turned away and headed for the door. Disa wilted until he stopped.

"Do not mention this to my sister. I will stay and work with you. If my behavior upsets you again in the future… speak to me directly," he said.

She nodded, and he exited. T'Challa returned to her side alone.

"How was he?" T'Challa asked.

Disa shrugged.

"I hope he will do better."

"M'Baku will talk to him."

"I wish you had spoken to him on your own first."

"No. The Jabari prefer direct confrontation. I wanted the man to face all of us at once. Let me know if he doesn't work out. They revere him in the mountains, but he is not the only person capable of carrying out your vision," T'Challa said.

"Thank you. Goodnight," she said.

She squeezed his arm and left for her home.

Yani waited for her inside a chaotic living room with their children running around laughing and playing chase with laser tag toys. Dante took part, huffing about out of breath and holding his side. Riki raised his laser gun and shot a green light beam across the room, striking Dante's chest vest, and causing it to blink with flashing red and yellow lights. Sydette cackled as she took out her brother from behind with the help of Joba.

"Everything okay?" Yani asked.

"For now. We'll see in the future. Adebiyi is Ayomide's older brother."

"What?!"

"I know… she never said a thing to me."

Disa glanced around, watching all the chaos babies play with Dante.

"Can you spend the night with the children? I need to just get some things off my mind. Work… Challenge Day. I feel like I need a vacation from everything," Disa said.

"We can stay," Yani said.

Disa smiled, and Yani's expression changed. She glanced back at their children, then stepped closer to Disa.

"I have an idea and maybe you'd like to do it with me?" Yani said.

"What about?"

"I have a lot of vacation time accrued from the hospital and I want to go back to St. Thomas for Juvay. Would you be open to coming with us? Getting out of Wakanda will probably do us both good right now while Erik is away."

Disa stared at Yani, unsure of how to respond.

"Plenty of parties. The children can swim all day together, and my Aunt Leona will spoil you with her food. Twyla is going back, and I invited Marisol, too. It can be a fun Girl's Trip. Joba really wants to meet Jerome, my little brother. He's an iguana, but we treat him like family."

Yani giggled, and her eyes twinkled. Disa closed her eyes and clasped Yani's hand.

"I think a family trip is what we all need."

"You can come back energized and ready to handle that Jabari bully," Yani said.

Disa rolled her eyes.

"If he wasn't such a stubborn, annoying ass, he would be an okay dude… what?"

Yani grinned and put a hand on her hip.

"Hearing you say that sounds like you're talking about Erik."

"That probably will be him in twenty years. As much as the Wakandans act egalitarian with women, there are still some men here who want to drag us back to the stone ages."

"Mmhmm."

The screechy squeals of the children drew Disa's attention away. The three little ones looked so happy. Stress, family tensions, and mourning affected them too. She clapped her hands loudly and gathered their attention.

"Guess what?" Disa said.

"What?" all three children said, staring at her with shiny eyes.

"We are going to St. Thomas!"

Twyla, Marisol, Leona, and the rest of Yani's immediate family waited for them on the private boat dock as the Royal Talon Fighter floated down. A ramp slid out and there were excited whoops and shouts for their arrival. The balmy heat struck Yani, and she closed her eyes, inhaling deep the scent of home.

Riki and Sydette dashed off the Talon ramp and jumped into the arms of her parents and Leona. Her sisters hugged her and greeted Disa, Joba, and Dante. The weight of Wakanda slid from her shoulders. There were Dora Milaje assigned to them, but one of them was Noxolo, so she was happy that someone close to Erik was with them as their security. The children loved her and she looked around wide-eyed at the island's beauty.

"There he is!" Yani said, reaching for Disa's arm and pulling her toward Jerome, who lounged in a tree looking down at them near the swimming pool.

Yani gave them all a tour, and her childhood companion still ruled the compound. His skin was a little ashen around the end of his tail and the top of his crown, but Jerome still had a lot of life still left in him. Joba was nervous meeting him, but Riki climbed the tree and pet Jerome's back.

"Jerome, that's my baby sister. You be nice to her!" Riki shouted.

Her cousin CeCe brought her young children down from the second house and several other cousins had their kids, so the children disappeared with Noxolo tailing them. Dante sniffed the air and threw out his hands.

"Beautiful. Simply beautiful."

"And hot," Leona said, reaching for Dante's hand. "Let mi get you a cool drink and some food."

"Can't say no to that. How are you, my lovely lady?" Dante said.

The older relatives and her parents followed them up to the house.

"She'll be on the phone late tonight gathering up the hens to fix him up with one of her friends," Twyla said, sucking her teeth.

With the help of Twyla, Marisol, and CeCe, they collected all of their luggage on two trips before settling inside the main house for refreshments. The familiar odor of the dwelling hit her right away, and she paused in her steps. Disa looked around, admiring the artwork and layout. Yani touched her chest and shivered at the ghostly memories that rushed her.

Twyla and CeCe brought out mixed drinks with snacks, and they feasted. Marisol spoke of her fun hanging with Twyla and Cece for a week prior to their arrival. Her bubbly personality had CeCe in awe of her. By the time Leona called to meet up at the front house for dinner, all five of them were tipsy and bonded like a band of wild women out to have a good time. Yani's sister Anika hugged her and rubbed her hands across Yani's freshly clipped hair.

"You ever growing this out?" Anika asked.

Almost twenty-one, Anika was a big woman now, not that pesky little girl who babysat Sweet Pea in a cramped apartment. She wore her hair relaxed and long, liked her nails done, and became a fashionista working in a hotel boutique selling tourists expensive outfits. Pretty and full of youthful energy, Yani wondered if she would've been like that if she hadn't had a baby so young. Picturing her baby sister carrying a toddler around and juggling three jobs made Yani feel so weary for her younger self. Women needed time to experience life, and not have kids so early.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Anika asked.

"You're so pretty and funny," Yani said, stroking the ends of her sister's hair.

Taking her seat at a large table, her family broke bread with their new guests and it felt like old times… well… not quite… not until Kendall showed up with gifts and superstar energy. Yani ran to him when he swept into the dining room. Her cousin was a bigger celebrity now, and for him to take time away from Miami to be back home was a big deal and cost him money. He'd moved into producing more and there were international artists lined up to work with him in the states.

"I can't miss being with the Fam with Juvay coming!" Kendall shouted.

She stuffed herself with peas and rice, oxtails, and stew chicken. Leona piled their plates with mango glazed short ribs and spicy shrimp salad. It was a feast for the ages.

"Mi belly full," Yani whined.

Sydette rubbed Yani's stomach.

"Can we go swim at the cove?" Sydette pleaded. "Mi wahn take Joba there."

"After a nap," Yani said.

The children whined, but Leona and Yani's mother Paula led them to the second house for naptime. Her father, Halston, took Dante outside to talk and drink beer for men's time, leaving everyone else free to do whatever they wanted. Disa wanted to rest, and she followed Marisol to the room they would share in the main house, leaving Yani with Twyla.

"Look at you, Dr. Galiber," Twyla said.

Yani grinned.

"One more year and I will feel comfortable with that title," Yani said.

They shuffled on bare feet to sit at the end of the dock. The Royal Talon Fighter stayed hidden away under a camouflage shield near the private beach. If anything happened, they would fly away quickly, members of the Royal Family.

The tide was low, and they watched a cruise ship heading toward the port. Twyla nudged her shoulder into Yani's.

"Bibi and I are talking about marriage," Twyla said.

Yani's mouth fell open.

"I know, I know… working together brought us closer, and Yani… he believes in me so much!"

Twyla's voice squeaked and her legs jerked about.

"Did he ask you?" Yani asked.

Twyla held up her right hand where a posh diamond and vibranium ring sat. Yani grabbed her finger.

"I noticed this earlier, but since it wasn't on your left hand…"

"I don't want anyone here to know about it yet. You're the only person I've told. I told Bibi I would give him an answer when I returned to Wakanda. Oh, gyal, that man loves him some Twyla!"

Her cousin waved her arms above her head and they giggled like little girls again together. Yani hugged her.

"I'm so happy for you!" Yani said.

"God… Wakanda has given me everything. To think if I hadn't sent Big Man your way on Juvay… my life would be so… I don't know. Killmonger pushed my business proposal through and once he takes the throne, Bibi and I can open our Eco-Tours business together."

"Will you accept his marriage proposal?" Yani asked.

"I will. I know I've kept things private from you, but I wanted to make sure this was right… and it is. He wanted to come here with me to ask for my hand in person from my parents, but I want this just for me."

"Aw! Look at you crying with joy!" Yani teased.

Twyla grinned through her glassy eyes filled with tears. A few leaked down her cheek.

"He thinks I'm the most brilliant and beautiful woman he has ever seen. He was so shy about asking me out. Keeping things professional. We always ended up together at the end of the day. When we began scouting locations to open the business, I realized I needed him to make the company happen properly there. He just wanted to be a tour guide. There's something about him that makes me grateful to wake up in the morning. His love is soothing and sweet, and he can handle me like no man ever could."

Twyla gazed at the water and hugged herself.

"Look, I'm getting goosebumps talking about him," Twyla said, holding out her arms.

Yani watched her cousin's face as it twisted up with emotion and her bottom lip quivered. She rested her head on Twyla's shoulder.

"His family is well off and part of the River Tribe. They wanted him to go into politics, but he wants to be part of welcoming international visitors. He's learning English so fast because he's excited about meeting new people from all over the world. Wakanda makes him so proud and he loves looking at it through my eyes. Sorry, I can't stop crying—"

"You're in love and happy. Cry all you want," Yani encouraged.

Twyla looked at Yani and her face slowly became calm once more.

"Yani, I'm happy for you too," Twyla said.

"For what?"

"For you and Disa. I watched you both since you've been home today and that closeness is back. You were both so chatty with each other and it was like no one else could break that bubble," Twyla said.

Yani nodded.

"This last week has been so good for us. Planning the trip together. Packing. Talking about Erik. God, Twyla, I wish we had her around when we were coming up. I was so consumed with anger for months and pretending I wasn't still processing everything. It was like moving forward and back constantly… I was so wrapped up in mi shit and I lost sight of her feelings… her fears. I missed that friendship—"

"And her jokes," Twyla added.

Yani laughed.

"She has a filthy sense of humor that I love so much. Her stories about traveling and being Muslim and wanting so much to happen for the world… she's like me, but like… older, y'know? For months, it intimidated me all the time. Comparing myself, but she would just tell me that time would bring me to her level soon enough. She just had years on me. With Erik being away, it's like a fog lifted from my eyes and I can let my hurt go finally."

Yani focused on the water and wiggled her toes.

"You two staying down here all day?"

Kendall called to them as he swaggered down the dock with his expensive celebrity shades and designer beachwear. He joined them, smelling expensive and flossing his new Cuban link chain. Yani stood, punched Kendall's shoulder, and rubbed her hand all over his bushy afro. Twyla raised up beside him.

"Open your mouth," Yani said.

Kendall pulled back his generous lips as they saw the gold slugs on his bottom teeth copying Killmonger's signature look.

"Dem Yankee girlies love it," he quipped with pride.

The loud patter of feet from eight children stampeded toward them, led by Sydette.

"Riki!" Yani shouted.

Too late.

The boy leaped off the dock and made a big splash below.

"Things never change with that boy!" Kendall said.

Yani ran to the edge and started scolding him for getting his clothes all wet, but Kendall shoved her arm. She went flailing into the water, followed by Sydette and Joba. The other children made the leap too and Yani treaded in the warm water, scolding them all while laughing about it. The Black mermaid had returned. A wave lifted them all and Joba wrapped her arms around the back of Yani's neck.

"I got you, Joba," Yani said.

They splashed around for twenty minutes until Disa and Marisol showed up.

"Oh my goodness, what is happening out here?" Disa yelled down to them.

Marisol bumped her hip into Disa's, knocking her in, but Twyla shoved Marisol seconds later, who grabbed a hold of Twyla's arm and they both went in. Kendall laughed his ass off at everyone. Noxolo stepped into view and surveyed the scene. Kendall took a step back from her intimidating stance. The spear in her hand didn't help him feel relaxed, either.

"They're all safe and having fun," Kendall said with a sheepish tone.

Noxolo nodded once and went back to patrolling the property near the beach, keeping her eye on all the children present.

"Aye, Fam, I gotta run," Kendall said.

"Where to?" Yani called up.

"The new studio Solomon opened with Henry. I want to check out the new setup," Kendall said.

Yani glanced at Disa who dog-paddled with Joba.

"Disa, would you and Marisol like to check out the studio?" Yani asked.

"Yeah," Disa said, her eyes lighting up.

They led the children out of the seawater dripping wet and sand stuck to their shoes and legs.

"They are a mess," Twyla said.

The walk back up to the second house took a long time because the children wanted to play hide and seek and Riki became distracted by new iguanas on the property. They turned the kids over to all the aunties so that the adults could shower and change. An hour later, they strode through Leona's front house.

"How long will yuh be at the studio?" Leona asked.

She already had a large knife and garlic cloves out in her kitchen when they headed out. Yani kissed her cheek and tugged on the headscarf that covered her long, twisty gray braids.

"A few hours, Auntie," Yani said.

CeCe brought out bread dough from a pantry to form into dinner rolls. A tall Dora named Quamba walked through the kitchen, excusing herself for getting a bottle of water from the large fridge and placing it inside a side bag on her hip.

"Princess Yani, the car is ready for you and your guests," Quamba said.

"Princess?" CeCe scoffed, with a smirk on her face.

Disa, Twyla, and Marisol followed Quamba to the Wakandan retrofitted black luxury SUV in the driveway. Yani grabbed an imported nectarine from a fruit bowl sitting on an unused cutting table. She bit into it, munching while her aunt and cousin stared at her.

"I forgot to tell you, Auntie. Killmonger changed my status in Wakanda. Twyla and Sweet Pea too, because we come from Queen Mary."

Yani put away her fruit, then pulled out a personal copy of the proclamation with Leona's name on it. The shiny purple and gold lettering dazzled, and she handed it to Leona.

"The royal court of Wakanda recognizes you, Leona Galiber, as the descendent of a warrior queen who fought for her people. Whenever you visit my new homeland, you will be treated as an important royal visitor," Yani said with deep pride.

Leona held the parchment in her hand. Her hands trembled as she stared down at her name with the title "Queen" in front of it. Her eyes read the fine print and grew large.

"This here means what, Yani?" Leona asked.

"When he takes the throne, he will elevate you to the title of queen under his rule. Queen Mary came from St. Croix, and because he holds you in his highest regard, he will recognize you as the successor—"

"But my older brother should have this—"

"Killmonger chose you, Auntie. You were kind to him… cared for him. He won't acknowledge anyone else but you," Yani said.

"What about me?" CeCe said.

Her forehead creased with displeasure, and she bared her teeth along with heated eyes.

"What about you?" Yani said.

"I'm a Galiber too! I should get something!"

"The way you talked bad about him?" Leona shot back. "About Yani?"

CeCe cut her eyes away.

"Queen Mary's blood runs in me too… in my babies," CeCe said.

"Maybe he remembers how badly you talked about him and me," Yani said.

She put a hand on her hip.

"Remember when you said he would just use mi up and throw mi away? Every chance you got, you called him a wasteman… told mi I was a fool for laying up with him. Now you want something from that?" Yani said with an incredulous expression on her face.

"None of we knew who he was… not the real him. Mi only spoke because I was worried… Auntie, you know that," CeCe said.

Leona held the proclamation against her breasts and closed her eyes.

"I always knew there was something special about him. He was so different from the others… cool, calculating… considerate to me and mine. To know he thought about me so many times when I asked for nothing…"

Leona touched Yani's cheek.

"Go have a nice time with Kendall. Dinner will be at seven. Call me if yuh late and I'll keep things warmed up for all of you."

"Auntie, I can hire caterers to take care of everything while we're here," Yani said.

Leona waved her hands about and pushed her toward the back door.

"I want to cook. Our new family is here. They will have my best," Leona said.

Yani kissed Leona's cheek and bounced away as CeCe cut her eyes again and pouted.

Disa took in the lush scenery as they arrived at a home studio on the other side of the island near Sapphire Beach. Behind a luxury condo was a grouping of upscale homes, one of which had been converted into a musical hub.

Walking into it, she immediately felt the creative energy flow as Kendall introduced her to the owner/operator, an older man named Henry, and his partner Solomon, who nearly bent over backward for Yani. A small crowd of eager recording artists sat in a large front room waiting to head into a sizeable recording studio that was stuffed with exceptional sound recording gear and some session players. Her gaze fell upon the empty drum set and her palms itched to hold sticks and play. Kendall sensed this and asked Henry if Disa could play on them before his next track recording. Smitten by her curves and the way her hips swayed, Henry loaned her his own sticks, eager to see if she was as good as Yani claimed.

Disa kicked off her kitten heel sandals and hiked up her lime-colored wrap-around skirt. Warming up by tapping the ride cymbal and testing the high hat, she launched into one of Kendall's last records and Yani's cousin lost his mind when she funked the beat up more than the original record. Henry stood outside the enclosed room with his engineer staring at her with his mouth open through the glass window. The band that had been on a short break joined her with Yani, Marisol, and Twyla stepping into the space with them. Kendall tapped the soundboard and his bright voice flooded the studio with excitement.

"Yani, sing!" Kendall begged.

"Sing what?" Yani said, with her hands on her hips.

Disa scooted her left food securely over the bass pedal and tapped a new rhythmic beat that the bass player followed in a jam session freestyle. The keyboardist peppered in runs and the guitarist grinned while plucking some nasty licks into the mix. Disa eased into her pocket queen groove and the bass player bobbed his head and twisted his lips at how wonderfully stank the sound was. She stayed on the one, and the studio band followed her lead.

"Make up something! You always make up songs," Kendall declared.

Yani glanced over at Disa.

"C'mon Yani! I got this on lock!" Disa said, slamming hard on the crash cymbal to emphasize her point.

"Goddamn!" the bass player exclaimed as Disa switched up the beat and rode the high hat for a spell before going down into the pocket and working the kickdrum.

Yani shook her head and shied away from one of the two standing mics, but Disa switched up the beat again, creating a dancehall cadence that made all the men yell with pleasure. Twyla stepped up and rapped a flow over the beat, and tugged on Yani's sleeve to drag her in.

"Yani, this shit is hot!" Kendall yelled over the speakers.

Yani stepped in front of a mic and closed her eyes, feeling the music.

"Them call mi muma heavy Bumpa big and mi likkle flat belly Young and healthy mi nuh done like credit Wuk fi mi things cyah seh mi beggy beggy Suh move up, cuz afta mi nuh idle Bitch yuh time up, and mi know yuh wish yuh did nice suh A gooda my fault mek the man a hide yuh Cuz everytime mi walk mi skirt a ride up…" **

Marisol and Twyla squealed and jumped around Yani as she laid down her lyrics. Kendall ran into the room and snagged the other mic, rapping bars that enhanced Yani's playful hook. Disa played with the drum beats more, banging out intricate rhythms that Yani and Kendall slid over effortlessly. Yani turned to face her and sang to Disa directly, playing with the sound of her voice, until Disa stopped playing and waved to Kendall.

"Can we record this? I mean, do an actual taping and redo what you all did?" Disa asked.

Kendall looked back at Henry through the studio glass.

"Henry?" Kendall said.

"I'll pay for the studio time," Disa said. "This is too hot to let it disappear."

"She's good for it, trust me," Kendall said. He winked at Disa, not letting on that Disa could buy the studio ten times over what it cost.

"I'll pay for the studio time of the talent waiting outside if they'll let us sneak in this set before them," Disa offered.

Henry clapped his hands and cued up the boards with the assistant recording engineer.

"I can't even remember what I said," Yani moaned.

"Kendall, you start first and Yani can sing her part right after… add all those ad-libs you did, Yani. Then Twyla, you jump in and we'll have Marisol come through with some Portuguese to give it an international flavor," Disa said.

"Okay band director!" The bassist said.

Disa worked out a plucky intro with the guitar player and showed him how she would come in after him with the bass player. She arranged, directed, and had them performing like they were her own band. The sweetness of Yani's voice made the recording full of sugary pop flavor, and Twyla's deeper voice coming after her cousin's added a rich boldness to the sound like an old-school dancehall queen tone that added heat to all of Yani's sweetness. Marisol's mellow voice gave the track an elevated spice.

The joy in Disa's playing bled through the session, taking her mind away from work and worrying about showing Wakanda her best efforts. They left the studio together in elevated spirits, riding around the island where Twyla pointed out landmarks and great bars. She let the window down and luxuriated in the breeze blowing over her face and curls.

Leona fed them well, and the children entertained them with stories until it was their bedtime. Resting on a pool lounger, Disa drank a glass of wine, stretching her legs, and inhaling the fresh scents of flowers and the ocean. Yani and Marisol joined her, reclining in comfortable shorts and t-shirts.

The next couple of weeks took on the same pacing of swimming, eating, visiting tourist spots, and Yani's old job at a protected mangrove. She guided them on canoes and Disa snorkeled, delighting in the wondrous schools of fish that swarmed around her. Twyla had them on humorous walking tours and showed them statues of the Three Queens, and she snapped plenty of holopics of the one representing Queen Mary.

When they weren't with family, Disa's favorite time spent there was with Yani talking about Erik's consortium and sharing her sketches of what she drew for Yani's vision of a proper birthing hospital for Black women. They spent long nights imagining the beautiful spaces newborns would be born in. Yani had introduced her to a doctor mentor that cared for Sydette when she nearly died, and they walked on Yani's private beach, staring at the stars in the sky and listening to the crash of waves.

"We have worldbuilding resources to do whatever we want, Yani," Disa said.

They walked barefoot into the water, letting the warm liquid lick at their ankles. Standing side by side, the words sank in.

"How does it feel to shape history?" Yani asked.

"Humbling. Scary. Fate really took over our lives meeting, Erik," Disa said.

Yani nodded. Her gaze turned distant, and then she pointed over to some craggy-looking rocks that curved out to sea.

"That's where I was shot," Yani said.

"Oh shit," Disa said.

"It was the last time I saw him. He told me to finish school to be a doctor and watched me swim into the ocean with Sweet Pea on my back and Riki inside of me. I miss him, Disa."

"I do too."

"I see his vision... I see what he wants to do. I worry I'm not qualified, but he believes in me… believes in us. The day he left, I went to his office and saw all the important things he wants to accomplish, and I want him to succeed," Yani said.

"In school, he always talked about what he wanted to do, and the conviction in his voice… his demeanor… there is no way Allah will allow him to fail. He has us. His children. He always had spunk and determination," Disa said.

"Mpilo told me that is what he had on his face when he left. Determination. I'm so glad you came here, Disa," Yani said.

"I am too."

Disa's kimoyo lit up. She gave an enormous sigh.

"What?" Yani asked.

"My head of construction. I need to take this."

"Stay. I'll go back up and give you privacy. Dominoes by the pool at nine."

"Hopefully, I won't have to scream at this man," Disa said.

Yani smiled and left her to her call.

Disa took a deep breath and tapped her kimoyo. Adebiyi's stern face floated before her.

"I'm on vacation. This couldn't wait?" Disa asked in a pleasant voice, trying to bite back on her annoyance. Answering him was a simple courtesy for her friendship with his sister.

"I would not bother you, Lady Abdullah, for simple matters. I want to inform you of some underwater seismic activity off the coast that is concerning. We have halted work until we can determine how aftershocks will affect us. A tsunami warning was issued for our coast, along with Kenya and Niganda's coastline."

"Thank you for telling me personally," she said.

Adebiyi wasn't in the palace anymore with M'Baku. He looked to be in his own private residence.

"King T'Challa has sent a crew to check our floating foundations for any damage."

"I would like daily updates until I return," Disa said.

"This could push us back on your deadline," he said.

"I don't care about that right now. Safety is important. Has there been seismic activity like this before?" she asked.

"Not as alarming as this one."

"Please call me at this same time tomorrow," she said.

"As you wish."

Adebiyi hung up first, and Disa felt a sense of relief flow over her. T'Challa was on top of it and the deadline for completion delayed was a nice breather from Adebiyi in person and dealing with her team back at the office.

She glanced over at the spot where Yani had been shot and walked toward it, trying to picture a woman fleeing for her life and that of her children. Turning around, she looked at the sand and the path back toward the main house. Somewhere, there was a mass grave filled with dead men that Erik had buried.

The world wouldn't know what hit it once he came back to the palace.

Disa couldn't wait.

Chapter 58 HERE.

Author’s Note:

** The lyrics Yani sings is Jada Kingdom’s “Badum” see video below after tag list!

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countrymusiclover · 2 years ago

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28 - Man With Claws

Part 29

She's Human or Weapon

@supernaturalgirl30 @groovy-lady @bigbendyhorns @logolepsic-insomniac @the-big-bad-klaus @ocappreciationtag @foundationsretail

Blinking my eyes opened my head feels like a brick wall smashed into it repeatedly over and over. I try sitting up but soon realized that I couldn't move my arms or legs. Lifting my head up as much as I could I saw metal restraints holding me down onto an operating table. I started thrashing around seeing an iv sticking into my left arm making me panic. I've been in this situation before with Shaw and I refuse to live with someone like that demon man again. Gasping suddenly I bite my lip feeling some pain shoot through my stomach meaning it was the baby right before a door opened. A man carrying a clipboard walked in who I don't recognize. "At last we meet Ms. Deerfield or should I call you Mrs. Xavier?" The man questioned laying the board down taking a seat on a rolling chair pushing hair out of my face. Grunting through my teeth I spit in his direction. "Who the hell are you...Urgh let me go...I'm not your enemy!"

"Oh excuse me. Where are my manners. My name is William Stryker. And you and I are going to have some fun." He tapped some buttons on a keypad before tiny little needles injected themselves into my arms and legs. "You see my dear girl. Sébastien Shaw only scratched the surface with you. Him being a mutant himself he thought he should rule the world. I am not here to do that. I'm here to understand your power and then use it to wipe every single mutant out of existence." Clutching my hands into fists at my side I grunted feeling my chest heaving up and down in terror. Erik was right that once people learned about mutants they would start experimenting on us. End up killing us all because we are different. "So what do you plan to do with me, Stryker...because there's no mutant in this world that can wipe us all out at once."

Stryker clicks his tongue increasing whatever is inside the needles causing me to scream. Clutching my hands into fists I felt the golden power breaking through and hitting some things around the room. "Ms. Xavier I already have the person I need in mind. You see I was given a copy of your medical treatments that were done. So I know you are half telepath like your husband. I'm going to use you to rid the world of mutants." The needles retract themselves from my arms where I saw wounds in my arms and legs. Struggling for air I felt the pain everywhere in my body. Bugging my eyes out I shutter seeing my wounds slowly healing themselves where has never happened before. "What did you do to me. I - I wasn't able to heal before - what did you do!" I croaked through heavy tears wishing I was back home safe with my husband and daughter instead of with this hateful human.

"I gave you the power of one of my experiments...named Wolverine. He escaped you see when I captured your friend Mystique not too long ago. So now you're going to be my new experiment." He moves to put a needle in my head but I closed my eyes tightly entering his mind and locking onto him. Freezing him in his place I grunted creating a high amount of energy from my hands destroying the metal restraints. Swinging my legs over the bed I quickly take the needle injecting it into his body instead. A few seconds later my vision starts to blur so I started running through the lab hearing security calling out for me. Jumping over a stairs railings I moaned feeling my shoulder get a piece of metal inside it. My hair is tousled around where I forced myself to my feet seeing the red words of an exit door a few steps in front of me.

Bolting out the door I didn't stop running until I found a small town. Wherever I am there's snow everywhere so I'm definitely not around home anymore. Pulling my jacket hood over my head I tilt my head down hoping to not get noticed by anyone here. Struggling I climbed up onto a barstool laying my head on the countertop until a man spoke. "You don't look too hot there sweetheart." Whipping my head up I frantically looked around creating a small ball of energy in my hand underneath the table ready to fight. The man sitting next to me has deep brown eyes and hair where I somehow recognize him from somewhere. I just can't put my finger on where at exactly. "Luckily we're alone. Most people around here don't care too much for mutants. So what's your name?" He asked causing me to shake my hand making the energy die out. He raised a beer to his mouth taking a drink. "I'm Aurora. Aurora Xavier. Who are you stranger?" The man spit out his drink bugging his eyes out at me with a stunned look on his face. "Golden Flare...it's you." My mouth hangs opened hearing that nickname finally remembering who this guy was.

"Who exactly are you?" I questioned walking down the stairs creating some gold energy from my left palm. The stranger has dark brown hair and eyes. He raised his hand showing bone like claws appeared outside his skin. "I'm Logan and you're Golden Flare. Some call you Rora"

My heart skipped a beat mumbling under my breath knowing who the man was right in front of me. "Logan...oh my God. I thought you were dead after DC or that you had went back to your own time." He sits his glass down in front of him turning to face me giving me a smile even though it was a tiny one. "Part of me did go back. But my current self - uh me stayed here." Nodding my head I reached about to take his hand but retract it remembering my shoulder was injured. Pulling the top of my sleeve down I shivered seeing the wound was healed over like it never happened. "Rora, are you alright. You look like you've seen a ghost?" Logan asked when I met his gaze where I grabbed a tooth pick sticking it into the center of my left hand wincing at the pain. Dropping the pick the tiny wound hole closes over making me almost throw up. "Logan I - uh need to ask you a question...do you know a man named William Stryker?" Glancing over to him he dropped the cigare he had in his mouth completely shocked by my question.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years ago

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Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

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“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

#smutchallenge #cecewritessometimes #oneshot #erik killmonger x oc #black!oc #smut #Youtube

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randomshyperson · 3 years ago

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 11 - Part XI - The Sixth Year (Part One)

gif was made by @abimess

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. Chapter Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, minor kissing.

A/N> In the previous chapter I said that maybe I would put the fic in Hiatus, and on Saturday I managed to write four chapters. So I believe I'll be able to finish everything by next weekend. Good reading everyone.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Part XI - The Sixth Year (Part One)

Everything is different now.

You can feel it in your bones. You can feel it in the air, in the room, in the way your butler won't leave the radio playing on the kitchen counter because the music has been replaced by news of disappearances all over the magical and non-magical community.

Even now, sitting at the kitchen table while everyone is eating their breakfast beside you, you find it hard to relax. Jarvis doesn't have to turn the radio back on for you to know how things are going on outside the protected gardens of the Stark mansion.

"I've already prepared the fireplace, Mister Tony." Announced Jarvis next, his hands on his back. Your brother murmured, still in the middle of sipping his coffee.

"Thank you, Jarvis." He then spoke, placing the cup on the table. "I'm expecting mail, if Iron comes back with anything, save it for me okay?"

"Of course, Mr. Tony."

"Jarvis?" You called out before your butler returned to the kitchen. He looked gently at you. "Aren't you going to have breakfast with us?"

The man hesitated, straightening his suit vest slightly.

"I've already eaten, miss. But I appreciate the invitation." He says making mention of turning around, you add quickly.

"Where are you going?"

There it is again. The tension you have noticed since you returned from the hospital. Caught in the way Jarvis looks quickly at Tony and your sisters before a smile that doesn't reach his eyes forms. He clears his throat lightly.

"I have my chores, miss." He answers politely. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Is the order, isn't it?"

As soon as the words escape, silence falls on the table. Gamora stops stirring her tea in mid-motion, but you keep your gaze on Jarvis.

"Miss Stark, please, I mustn't be late." He insists and you sigh, nodding. Jarvis walks away, but the table remains silent. You have your fists clenched in your lap, waiting.

And realizing that just as before, when you began to notice the rushed exits, the whispers, the locked doors, and the hiding spells, you realized that none of your siblings would say anything.

So you rolled your eyes and stood up, throwing your napkin on the table and walking out of the kitchen with hard steps.

Tony called out to you, but you ignored him. Gamora reached you when you were already in your room.

"If you've come to tell me there's nothing going on, you can leave." You let her know sitting up in your bed, your mind working on theories. Gamora sighed lightly.

"I'm not." She says as she moves closer to sit beside you. "But I can't tell you everything either."

"All summer, Gamora." You begin. "All summer you guys have been keeping secrets from me. And damn it, I've done it for a long time, and I understand. But I thought...I thought after last year, things were going to change. Everybody knows about the prophecy, and I'm still dealing with it alone."

"You are not alone." She retorts as she straightens up in bed, turning her body toward you, but you continue to stare at your lap. "You're not. We're just trying to protect you."

You give a short laugh.

"I'm not, really, you're right." You sneer bitterly. "I only have Wanda and she is more than enough."

Gamora sighs, but does not contradict you. You stand up looking for a change of clothes.

"Are you going to her house again?" Gamora asks as she sees you rummaging through the closets. You don't face her to speak.

"I don't get lied to in the Maximoff residence."

Gamora rolls her eyes.

"You've barely stayed home this summer." She complains. "We've missed you."

"Ironic you say that since when I am here you guys are having secret meetings without me." You retorted angrily, putting your pajama set into a backpack.

“Y/N…” she starts but doesn't continue. You feel frustrated and impatient, and you roll your eyes at her lack of honesty.

"See you tomorrow." You say before leaving with the backpack.

You went straight to the living room, and ignoring the questioning look from Tony and Nebula at the kitchen table, you made your way to the fireplace.

Before you used the floo powder, Tony was calling you.

"You know you still leave here, right?" He quipped, and you resisted the urge to start a fight.

You stumbled into the fireplace, the magic dust in your hands. Within seconds, you were in the living room of Maximoff Residence.

"Wanda, your girlfriend is here!" Pietro yelled as he turned his attention to the pages."Again." He muttered softly making you giggle as you walked out of their fireplace.

You stepped closer only to shove the magazine he was holding to his face in a childish act and ignore his irritated grunt as you kicked off your shoes, knowing Erik hated getting his carpet dirty.

You had gotten quite comfortable at Maximoff Residence this summer. After St.Mungus, you and Wanda have been spending a lot of time together.

Part of you knows it's because you've been kept out of order, and it's created a nervous tension between you and your siblings, Wanda's house being the only place where no one seems to keep things from you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your girlfriend's sudden presence in the room, and you had two seconds to smile at her before Wanda steps forward from the hallway towards you, her arms around your neck in a tight hug. You felt your face heat up, but soon she was pulling away to place several kisses on your cheeks, making you giggle shyly as Pietro mimicked vomiting noises.

"My god, it's ten in the morning." He complained while getting up, but you ignored it, your hands rubbing Wanda's back as you looked at her adoringly.

"Good morning my love." You greeted her.

"Good morning sweetheart" She replied, looking at you the same way. "To what do I owe this wonderful visit?"

"I missed you."

"I missed y..."

"This is too gay for ten in the morning." Pietro complained loudly again, now walking past you into the hallway and turning into the kitchen as you and Wanda giggled.

“"Have you had breakfast yet?" She asked, bringing her hands to your cheeks, caressing your skin.

You mumbled yes, omitting the part that your meal was interrupted by a little argument to steal a peck from Wanda, who bit her lip when you moved away.

She turned her head to look down the hall for a second and then moved forward, kissing you firmly this time. You smiled against her lips, melting as her hand gently scratched the back of your neck.

She pulled back a moment later, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

"Come say good morning to my dad before he comes to get you himself." She asked as she pulled away, her hand intertwining with yours to pull you towards the kitchen.

As soon as Erik saw you, he put the paper down on the table and smiled, waving for you to sit down, and you did it shyly, Wanda following you.

"It's good to see you, Miss Stark." He says. "Hope everything is alright at home?"

"Probably not since she's always here now." Pietro scoffs before you respond and lets out an exclamation of pain when Wanda hits him in the head with a small wave of energy. Erik shoots her a disapproving look but says nothing.

You get caught up in small talk while you eat together, and you're more aware of Wanda's presence than anything else, but Erik calls to you.

"Will you join us in the diagonal alley?" he asks curiously and you bite the inside of your cheek, uncertain.

"Actually, Tony asked me not to go out in public." You say. "Because of everything that's going on."

"Oh yes I understand." Erik says thoughtfully. "I was in the alley last week, and most of the stores are closed. People are scared, and crime increased considerably with the return of the walkers."

The mood at the table changes, but you feel your body relax with Wanda's hand on your knee.

"What has the order done about it, sir?" You ask and Erik frowns slightly in surprise.

"Forgive me Miss Stark, I assumed your brother was telling you about the delicate situation the order is in, so I didn't mention anything." He says and straightens his posture in the chair. "We believe there is a traitor among us."

You look at him in surprise, as do his children. Erik takes a deep breath.

"Of course any of you shouldn't worry about that." He says. "That's a matter for the members."

"Fury recruited my brother, sir?" You question and Erik hesitates, then nods. You feel your stomach sink. Tony didn't tell you about it. "And my sisters?"

"No. Not them." He quickly denies it. "We voted to add new members, and it needs to be a unanimous decision. I don't approve of adding children to order."

"But you approve Tony?" You accuse with a frown.

"Your brother is of legal age, Miss Stark." He argues. "He is a powerful, resourceful, and talented wizard. He has the right to fight if he wishes."

"He's only two years older than me." You retort. "I don't want him to be in danger."

"He insisted." Erik tells you. "He insisted because he wants to protect you. I had my doubts about that, due to his age, but he asked for my vote. He wants to help."

You swallow the urge to cry, absorbing the teacher's words.

"Jarvis too, right?" You ask and Erik takes a sip of coffee before answering.

"I must not share the order's membership list." He comments lightly jokingly, but you grimace. Erik sighs. "We are trying to keep it as a secret as much information as possible. The situation is too tense with the ministry, and with so many attacks, we are not knowing who to trust."

"You haven't said anything about this all summer, papa." Pietro comments thoughtfully. "Why now?"

Erik swallows hard, putting the mug down on the table.

"Because Wanda is going to Hogwarts next week, and I won't be there to keep her safe."

You can feel Wanda's surprise and anxiety mix with yours, and your hand rests in hers on your knee.

"What are you talking about?" Wanda questions and Erik takes a deep breath.

"I will not be returning to the castle this year." He says. "The ministry ordered my removal."

"What?" The three of you exclaimed together and Erik gestured lightly for you to calm down.

"There are many rumors about the Ministry of Magic's involvement in the rise of Mephisto. The facilities that were granted to the walkers, in addition to the encouragement of the propaganda of purity of blood." He counts. "What happened at the ministry, with you two, created quite a problem for the minister. He can't blame Harkness because she disappeared, but it was only a matter of time before he found out that I was the one who recommended the special classes with her."

"But you were helping us!" You exclaimed indignantly. "And you're on the side of order!"

"Exactly, Miss Stark." He says. "I'm afraid the minister's interest is just that. To remove all members of the order from the castle."

"Papa, what will happen to you?" Pietro asks worriedly, but Erik smiles, giving him a reassuring look.

"Do not worry." He says. "They'll do an investigation, and the minister will prolong my removal as long as he can. In the meantime I'll help the order. Our priority is to finish off Mephisto's brute strength before he regains all his followers."

"What will happen at the castle this year?" Pietro questions worriedly, and you and Wanda share his expression. Erik taps his fingers on the table lightly.

"I have my suspicions, but all the possibilities are bad." He declares. "But Wanda will have professor Stephen and Maria there. Don't hesitate to reach out for them."

"That's not very comforting." Pietro mutters and Erik flashes his son a sad smile.

"But I guarantee that whatever happens at Hogwarts, it will be better than the outside." He says. "None of you have experienced a wizarding war before.Believe me when I say that the backyards of the school are safer, no matter how awful they seem to be."

Pietro sighs.

"I am worried, Papa." He says. "Wanda will be there alone."

You frown. "Hey!"

Pietro gives a short smile. "You know what I meant." He clarifies. "I won't be there, and neither will you. I don't understand why she can't stay home."

"Because it's more dangerous here." He comments. "The only reason you're not coming back to the castle is because of your small act last year, Pietro."

Pietro looks away, grimacing at Erik's disapproving tone. All the times you've been here, the topic of Pietro dropping out of school always made Erik grumpy and created a nervous tension between him and his son.

Erik clears his throat.

"Since you have decided that you will not become a competent wizard, I expect you to help me during this period." Erik declares causing you and Wanda to exchange a look, uncertain about getting into the conversation. Pietro rolls his eyes. "I'm sure your Aunt Raven has some task to keep you busy."

"Of course, papa." Pietro mumbles wryly, laying his face in his arms on the table.

Erik sighs before turning his gaze back to Wanda and you.

"We may be at war now, but your education is still important, my dear." He says. "I wanted to make sure you got your N.E.W.T. We're going to need good witches for when this is all over."

Wanda smiled shyly, and you fell silent again. Your head was a mess, millions of possibilities about the next year flashing by and noticing your nervousness, Wanda excused herself to the table, and led you by the hand out of the kitchen.

She smiled at you in the hallway, but only stopped walking when you two reached her room.

"You're nervous." She commented as she gently pushed you onto her bed.

You sat down, and Wanda settled into your lap, your hands automatically going to her waist as she hugged you. You sank your face into her neck, breathing in her perfume deeply and feeling your whole body relax at once, becoming slightly dizzy with how comfortable you felt.

"I love you." You whispered against her skin, and Wanda pressed you tighter against her, making you fall back against the mattress with a giggle. With her lack of response, you began to caress her back, feeling her breath against your neck.

When she pulled away, she got off you, throwing herself on the bed next while biting back a smile.

"What?" you asked, curious by her expression. She shook her head slightly, her cheeks flushed.

"I just think I have never felt as happy as I do when I am with you."

You smile at the confession, feeling your heart race as you turn your body toward her, resting your face in your hand and your elbow on the bed.

Your fingers come up to her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes to place behind her ear, as she looks at you adoringly.

"What am I going to do without you next year, huh?" you ask, causing her to giggle a little, as she reached up to rest her hand on your waist.

"Do you think we'll be able to talk through thoughts by then?" She jokes putting on a mock expression, making you laugh.

"I wish I had that now, so you could help me with my exams." You retort in the same tone, making Wanda laugh.

"I can help you with some actual studying for your exams." She suggests and you raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, because study sessions work out very well for us, don't they, Miss wandering hands?" You tease and Wanda smiles mischievously bringing your faces closer together.

"It's not my fault you're irresistible." She whispers before kissing your lips softly. You both sigh, but just as you go to deepen the kiss, Pietro is entering the room and Wanda lets out a grumble as she pulls away and sits on the bed.

“Can I help you Pietro?” Wanda asks impatiently.

"Can you let go of your girlfriend for a second to talk to your brother?" He teases causing Wanda to roll her eyes, but you giggle, settling comfortably on the bed. "I need to tell you both something."

"Then stop the suspense and just tell us." You grumble, wishing you would go back to kissing Wanda.

Pietro checks the hallway, then closes the bedroom door. You and Wanda frown.

"I think there's something important going on in the order." He declares. "But I have no idea what it is."

"That's not very reassuring." Wanda mocks making you laugh and Pietro grimaces. " What gave you this idea anyway?"

"Dad's been getting owls." He counters. "You haven't noticed anything strange because you're making out all the time."

"Jealous." Wanda teases, making you laugh, but Pietro rolls his eyes sighing impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys are cute and all, but you don't seem to be noticing the rest of the world." He complains, crossing his arms. "We have a war going on and all you girls are doing is kissing each other."

Wanda sighs, getting up.

"And we'd like to get back to that, so you can leave." She complained pushing her brother by the shoulders, while you laughed at the indignant expression he made while complaining that that was an important matter.

Wanda ushered him out, and locked the door, turning to you with a mischievous grin.

"Where were we?" She asked as she approached, and all you did was open your arms for her to jump into your lap again.

You knew that this was indeed an important matter, but you couldn't focus on much else as you had Wanda on your lap kissing your mouth eagerly, her tongue sliding into yours as her hands squeezed your shoulders gently.

You kissed so many times that summer, but it seemed to get better, and more and more addictive. You had no idea if it was because you were connected to her, or if it was because you were in love, but either way, you didn't want to stop.

But then the door was opening again, and Wanda let out a grumble as she jumped away from your lap, trying to disguise her smudged lipstick and swollen lips.

"Girls, you know the rules." Erik warned with a serious tone. "The door must always stay open."

"Yes, sir." You and Wanda muttered breathlessly, and Erik rolled his eyes before leaving. When his footsteps became distant, you and Wanda began to giggle, and you fell beside her on the bed, both of you trying to normalize your breathing and disguise how affected you were by the little make-out session.

In the silence, Wanda intertwined your hands together, but you both continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Do...do you think Pietro might be right?" Wanda asked next, her voice low. You shifted your gaze to her, waiting for her to clarify. Wanda swallowed dryly before doing so. "About this. About us not paying attention to the war or anything else. I just...I'm afraid he's right."

You straightened to turn your body toward her properly, resting your head on the hand of the arm that you popped your elbow on the mattress. Wanda copied your movement, and you smiled at her as you moved your fingers up to caress her face.

"I think it's unfair for Pietro to say that." You say. "Every time I've tried to bring up order, war, or anything related to that, I've been called a child. So I think it's unfair that just because I'm focusing on the most important part of my life I get called out for it."

Wanda's eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushed.

"You think I'm the most important part of your life?" She asked shyly, making you smile.

"Of course you are, Wanda." You reply as if it were obvious, squeezing her reddened cheek and making her laugh. "My little grumpy witch."

Wanda rolls her eyes, grabbing a fistful of your shirt to pull you close, and give you a lingering kiss. You smile against her lips, and when she pulls away she keeps her forehead pressed against yours.

"I love you." She whispers with her eyes closed. "I love you so much I think I'm going to suffocate."

You sigh, feeling her emotions. She feels love, vibrant, pulsing. You think you might cry if you don't keep your eyes closed.

"I know." You whisper back. "It's like you can't put all the love out, no matter how hard you try."

"Does that scare you?" Wanda asks, her hand coming down on your waist. "Us? How intense it feels?"

You let out a short laugh.

"Scare me?" You retort. "It's the only thing that secures me."

Wanda sighs, pulling away to look at you. You smile, your hand on her cheek, caressing her skin with your thumb.

"You, Wanda Maximoff, are the only certain I hold on to." You confess. "You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. My love for you is the only thing I am sure I never want to lose."

Wanda's eyes are watery, but you know they are tears of happiness. You can feel it too. And you don't need her to say it back to you to know either.

"I can't lose you." She whispers as she lets the tears flow. "I won't survive."

"I'm not going anywhere, Wanda." You assure by looking into her eyes, but she swallows dryly, unable to hold back her tears. You feel her despair, you want to get these feelings out of her, but you don't know how. You hold her tightly, and Wanda lies against you.

When she opens her mind to you, you understand. She still thinks of you in the dungeons of the castle. She shares her insecurities, and her traumas. You take it all in, and the grip tightens. You also begin to cry when she stops sharing.

"I'm sorry." You tell her, and repeat it a few times until she stops crying. When she does, you're both exhausted, and she just pulls away to straighten up, her face buried in your neck, inhaling your perfume.

"Stay with me." She asks against your skin, and you smile with your eyes closed.

"I will." You whisper against her ear. "I will stay forever."

//-//-//-//-//

Hogwarts feels different.

Although the trip to the castle was the same as other years, there is a different tension in the air.

The train was also considerably emptier.

Not that you noticed it so much, Wanda's presence being your complete focus. Your sisters' teasing about it making you ignore your surroundings even more just to look at Wanda.

And when you all arrived at the castle, everything seemed even worse than last year.

"Are those dementors?" Gamora asks in surprise as you all are walking down toward the carriages. You notice the buzzing around the train, the other students also noticing the creatures flying over the castle in the distance.

Wanda's hand intertwined in yours is the only thing keeping you calm.

Before you can show any reaction, Drax, the fighter guard is shouting for everyone to hurry, that it was not safe to stay outside, and you were pushed along with the crowd inside the vehicles.

"What the hell is going on with this place?" Nebula asks as the carriage starts to move.

"I don't know, but having Dementors back in the castle is definitely not a good sign." Wanda comments looking out the window.

The silence of the drive to the castle is filled with speculation about the changes at the beginning of the year, and none of you are excited for Professor Kaecilius' continuing direction. Nobody seems happy with the absence of Professor Erik on the faculty either.

You don't miss the opportunity to tease Gamora about her boyfriend not coming back to Hogwarts this year, but it backfires when she scoffs that not everyone needs to be together all the time like you and Wanda to date.

When you finally arrived, there were aurors in almost every corridor of the castle now, but they were shabby-looking wizards you had never seen before, and no sign of Carol Danvers.

As soon as you made mention of joining the Slytherin table, one of them put his hand in your way.

"Each student must join their house at the opening ceremony." Said the wizard seriously, and you frowned.

"That's ridiculous." You retorted impatiently, taking a step forward. The wizard drew his wand and you widened your eyes in surprise, automatically covering Wanda with your body.

"I won't say it again." Warned the man, and you were ready to duel, but Professor Strange seemed to have emerged from the floor, and touched your shoulder quickly.

"Miss Stark, please, let's all calm down." He ordered, and you grimaced in indignation. The small scene was already attracting the attention of the students who were entering the hall.

"Tell the student to go to her assigned table or she will be punished, professor." Warned the auror and you clenched your jaw, taking a step forward, but Wanda squeezed your hand pulling you back.

"Please, everyone in your seats right now." Strange said. "Let's not start the year with a fuss, okay?"

You ignored Stephen to look at Wanda, who let go of your hand to gently smooth your cloak, moving closer to kiss your cheek, and whisper in your ear "I love you." before turning away, smiling shyly as she turned to the Slytherin table and left.

You sighed, exchanging an angry look with the auror before walking over to the Hufflepuff table, Mantis behind you.

The year's announcements were even more absurd.

"[...] As many of you may have known this summer, as per the announcements of the Daily Prophet, I will be taking over as headmaster of Hogwarts." Announced Professor Kaecilius with a polite smile that made you roll your eyes. Your attention immediately returned to the Slytherin table, and you already found Wanda looking at you.

When your gazes meet, she blushes, quickly turning away, and making you smile.

"Hey, that sounds important." Mantis commented beside you, noticing that you were distracted, exchanging glances with Wanda across the hall.

You mumbled, pretending to pay attention to the director.

"It is clear that this will be a difficult year for us, and typically adverse until the Ministry of Magic faces the dangers beyond this castle." Kaecilius commented and you frowned, finally paying attention to the speech. "It is to prioritize the safety of the students, I have been in contact with the minister of magic himself, and new conceptions have been allowed this year to properly prepare the students for the dangers of the wizarding world."

The hall shared some buzz, but the professor just cleared his throat, continuing to speak.

"This year we will be accompanied not only by the guards of Azkaban, but also by a team of special aurors, sent by the minister himself to ensure the integrity of the castle and the safety of our students. " Kaecilius said, motioning in the center of the hall. "In addition, a change was necessary in the curriculum of this school, due to the disfavor the old direction caused in the education of all of you."

"That doesn't sound good." Mantis whispered beside you.

"I'm sure it isn't." You whispered back, looking at the principal.

"The importance of teaching without ideological barriers has been reassessed, and the minister has decided that freedom is a crucial point in the education of our society." Kaecilius announced, holding out his arms. "Classifications like right, or wrong, are... backwardness. We, as a free society, need to evolve. And we are going to start that here. With our young people."

You're not sure if it was an auror or one of the teachers who applauded first, but soon the hall followed, more out of cordiality than anything else. You did not, nor did Mantis, or any of your friends, and neither did some of the other students.

When dinner was served, you felt too concerned to feed yourself, but Mantis poked you in the ribs.

"What do you think all that speech meant?" She asks and you stir your steak with your fork, sighing before answering.

"Don't you think it's obvious?" You ask rhetorically. "They're going to teach dark magic."

Mantis's eyes widen in surprise, but you feel tired. You want to go back to where Wanda is.

But then Peter Parker is speaking.

"Did you hear what some of the Gryffindors are saying about Minister Schmidt's aurors?" he asked and you and Mantis both deny with your heads. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "They are called the Red Skulls. They were a task force in the first war. And they weren't on the right side."

You become apprehensive at the information. It's as if Hogwarts is being controlled by the wrong people now. You really have no appetite after that. So all you do during dinner is listen to the parallel conversations between your housemates and your friend.

You wished Harley had come back to Hogwarts this year, but she wrote to you over the summer saying that just like Ivy, she would study magic from home now. You missed her lightness when you had to listen to Peter's nervous comments.

As dinner ended, you hoped to join Wanda, but the aurors controlled the lines back to the dormitories, wands in hand.

You clenched your jaw, feeling frustrated and angry as soon as you made mention of leaving the line and the same auror from earlier appeared.

"Let's not do that again, Stark girl." He warned and you held your wand in your robes, staring at him angrily.

"A word, Stark?" Professor Strange interrupted again, appearing beside the auror. He touched the wizard on the shoulder. "Please, Mr. Klaue, I will escort Miss Stark back to the Hufflepuff dormitory when we're done."

The minor wizard stared back at you before turning his attention back to the line and Stephen gestured with his head for you to accompany him out of the hall.

You walked to the corner of the entrance, and Stephen leaned slightly toward you.

"How are things, Stark? Did you have a good summer?" He asked, making you frown.

"The best." You replied dryly. " Everything was awesome until I came back and some jerk kept me from seeing my girlfriend."

Stephen sighed lightly, looking at the rest of the rows that were moving away, the hall quickly becoming empty.

"I'm sorry about that. I wish things were different, but they won't be for long." He says, practically whispering. You cross your arms, annoyed at the way the aurors in the distance are clearly watching you and Stephen talk.

"What the hell is going on in this place anyway, professor?" You ask irritated.

"The same thing that's going on outside." He replies. "Miss Stark, I won't have as many opportunities to talk to you this year. So I'll say it now. Be careful. Not like the years before, going out at night and sneaking out of the castle. No. Hogwarts will not be the same this year. You, as well as your friends, must be careful."

You frowned, but softened your expression as you noticed the pure concern on Strange's face. But before you could say anything, he was looking away and there was an auror beside you.

"Students should return to their dormitories after dinner." The man announced, already grabbing your arm and making you let out a mixed exclamation of surprise and anger.

"There's no need for that." The professor immediately interfered, releasing the man's grip, who took a step forward.

"I would be careful with secrets, Mr. Strange." Warned the wizard. "You don't want to be tried for treason, like that mudblood, do you?"

Strange clenched his jaw, and you think you've never seen him so angry.

"Do not threaten me, Mr Stane." Stephen retorted, and you swallowed dryly as you saw the wizard grab his wand on his belt, but he didn't draw it. The wizard just laughed wryly and made a noise with his mouth, like a whistle, to get you to walk.

You exchanged a look with the professor before doing so, hurrying to keep up with the end of the Hufflepuff line.

//-//-//-//-//

You were too worried to sleep.

And nothing had happened, but just the fact that you knew things were different made you uncomfortable and worried about Wanda's safety.

You had your cloak, and ignoring Strange's instructions, you waited for everyone to be asleep before leaving the dorm, completely invisible in the dark.

Aurors were making rounds through the halls, much more than before. And there were many more wizards, and you didn't know where they seemed to come from.

You thought it best to put a spell on your shoes so they wouldn't make noise, and so you passed through the corridors quietly.

At the portrait door your troubles began.

"Hey buddy, let me in." You warned the painting, which grumbled as it was woken up, squinting and then assuming a stern posture.

"Get out of here, blood traitor!" Retorted the painting causing you to frown.

"Say that again and I will rip you apart!" You angrily warned, but the painting gave a mean little laugh and then began to shout.

"Student out of bed, student out of bed!" His high-pitched voice echoed in the halls, and you hurried to cover your head with your cloak again, feeling your heart race when you heard footsteps approaching through the halls.

You started to run, and only stopped when you were far enough away.

And then you realized where you were again.

You remember the path from your nightmares.

Swallowing hard, you take a step back, but you bump into the wall.

It is the entrance to the dungeon where Agatha took you.

Nothing looks different, you wonder if the ministry even went in there.

You feel your stomach turn, and your heart is racing even more. The memories of what happened come back all at once, but you close your eyes, taking a deep breath and pushing them away.

You are safe.

And you walk away from that corridor quickly, feeling suffocated.

And then you bump into someone, trip over the cloak, and fall to the floor.

"Interesting choice of destination, Miss Stark." Professor Kaecilius comments as you swallow dryly, looking at him while you are still on the floor. He keeps his hands in his pockets."I was hoping for a more mature attitude in your sixth year, but clearly that was a mistaken expectation."

"Sorry, professor, but I'm still sleepwalking." You retort getting up, and are surprised that he gives you a wry smile. You feel nervous then, because he is now so comfortable at Hogwarts that he feels free to laugh at your jokes.

"I should have predicted that you would come back to this place." He then says, looking toward the room for a moment before returning his gaze to you. "If you had asked permission, perhaps I would have conceived."

You clench your jaw, not knowing exactly how to escape this confusion. Professor Kaecilius assumes a stern expression next.

"I don't care for the unruly way that Agatha conducted this school, but I assure you that it will not be the same manner in which I will conduct it." He says and with a flick of his right hand, the fallen invisibility cloak closes and jumps on his arm. You swallow dryly, but say nothing. "Adjusting to the new curriculum will take up most of your routine during this week, but you must learn to value the rules. Your detentions will take place on Saturdays for the next three months."

"Three months?" You exclaim in shock, and Kaecilius sighs.

"Perhaps four would be more appropriate, you have a bad track record."

You bite your tongue, holding back from cursing your teacher.

" Follow me to your dormitory, Miss Stark." Says the professor next, already starting to walk. "We don't want any more incidents, do we?"

The path is silent, but there is a nervous tension.

At the door, Professor Kaecilius turns to you.

"I would sleep now, if I were you, Miss Stark." He warns. "It takes discipline to become a competent witch, and sleep will not be an acceptable excuse for failing your classes."

You frown, but the professor waves, and you walk into the dormitory, the doorframe closing behind you.

Just as you reach your room, Mantis is opening the curtains on her bed.

"Where the hell have you been?" She asks worriedly as you take off your shoes to lie down.

"Wanda." You grumble before throwing yourself onto the mattress, sinking your face into the pillow. Seeing your dissatisfaction, Mantis sits up in your bed, poking you lightly in the ribs.

"What happened?" she asks and you sigh in frustration. When you tell her what happened, she has a mixed expression of concern and annoyance.

"I'm sorry about the cloak." She says. "And well, about the detention too."

"It's okay." You mumble. "I just wanted to see my girlfriend."

"I'm sure she's fine." Mantis says, and seeing your grimace she giggles. "Can't you feel these things? If you're not sensing anything, she's asleep, right?"

You sigh, nodding. Mantis is right. You just miss her, but other than that, you don't have any chills or anything. Wanda is safe.

"Thank you, Mantis." You say shyly, playing with the threads of the pillow. "Sometimes, I don't remember that, and I worry for nothing."

"It's okay." She says. "That's how it is when you love someone."

You smile and Mantis gives you a wink before getting up, and returning to her own bed.

"Now, let's go to sleep please, I'm thinking we're in for a busy week." She comments and you murmur in agreement.

You are afraid that " busy" is not the best adjective to define it.

//-//-//-//-//

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clearlydiamondz · 4 years ago

Text

Drug Lords

Erik!Stevens x Black!Reader

- - - - - - - - - -

Drug lord Erik Stevens have some dealings with his weapon supplier. He makes it known that no one is going to mess with her..

Warning: Smut, cursing, killing,

- - - - - - - - - -

(Y/N) woke up at around 2:00 in the morning, her sleep was totally off. She went to bed around 10 but for some odd reason she couldn’t get to sleep. It was messing up her entire sleep schedule. She looked at her phone and saw that she had a text message from the one and only Erik Stevens. He sent a text over a little hour ago. She opened it.

Erik- you up?

She rolled her eyes. It’s been a couple of weeks since she last talked to him. She cussed him out when one of his little hoes had the nerves to hit her phone up after getting her number, saying how she was going to beat her ass when he find out who she was.

Little did she know who she really was...

She knew why he was texting her. It was a Friday night, he was most likely drunk and wanting to have sex. She’s not going to lie, she wanted some dick. And Erik sure as hell knew how to deliver it. She decided to text him back.

maybe, why ?

She grabbed her phone, slipping on one of her over sized T-Shirts and walked downstairs.

At the age of 24, (Y/N) ran her own ring. She moved and sold weaponry and technology to other lords, Erik being one of them. She made a lot of money, and made quite the reputation for herself. Erik respected that.

Erik- I’m pullin up,

She didn’t text him back. She gave him a keycard to her penthouse months ago whenever he wanted to come here and lay low.

She walked into her office, walking to her safe and grabbing her pink weed jar, wraps and her lighter. She walked back to the kitchen rolling a blunt. She heard the elevator coming up, before looking and seeing him step out. He had on a dark grey Nike sweat suit, a pair of white Nike Air Forces, and a black beanie.

“Why are you up?” he asked her placing his keys and wallet on the counter. She shrugged.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you decided to roll a blunt?” he asked leaning on the counter as she nodded.

“Yup, maybe this could help.” she smelled the liquor on him.

“How you get her so fast?” she asked him as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I was on my way when you texted me back.” he said.

‘What if I had someone over here?” she asked him tilting his head to the side as he rolled his eyes, smacking his teeth.

“(Y/N) stop fucking playing with me.” he told her as she scoffed.

“Whatever, I would offer you a drink but you seem a little tipsy.” she chuckled, bringing the blunt to her lips before lighting it. She took a breath letting the smoke fill before letting it out. Erik grabbed the blunt from her taking a puff of it, a longer one than she.

“Damn this is good...” he coughed a bit before she tilted her head.

“So um, why are you here?” she asked him tilting her head to the side. “It’s not very usual that Erik tries to see the girl who cussed him out.” she said drinking from her water bottle.

“Well for one, I wanted to come by and see you. I’ve been texting your phone and you have been ignoring me.” he said as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah... because I’m mad at you. I don’t need another one of your little bitches texting me.” she said in a matter of fact tone.

“Bruh I said, I don’t know how that bitch got into my phone, dead ass.” he said as she shook her head. “I’m being forreal. We did things a couple of months ago, I’m guessing she thought it was something more. She was over at JJ’s house while we were playing poker and I left my phone in kitchen. I’m guessing she saw the messages.. you know actually I think she saw the video of you playing in ya pussy and thought-” she hit him in the arm as he laughing.

“I’m playin... but I still got that video.” he said. For some odd reason, him still having that video made her feel a little thump down there, but she couldn’t let him know that.

Erik did miss her.. like a lot. Nevermind the sex, he just loved being in her presence. In being without her for the past few weeks without her had a huge tole on him.

“Yeah because your a nasty ass nigga. That’s why.” she said taking the blunt from him, making her way back upstairs him following her. “You’re lucky I didn’t come by and shoot that bitch in her face.”

“Trust me.. you would’ve done been doing us both a favor.” he said. “Also, I want to make a deal with you. Word on the street you got some new weaponry, parts from Stark Industries.” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe? Now that Tony is dead, government been trying to move his weapons. Straight disrespectful.” she said walking into her room. He took off his shoes and sweat shirt showing the white tank top, and his scars. “A couple of people interrupted the move, stole some equipment. Sold it on the black market, I got my hands on some of the equipment. It was a hefty penny though. Making sure it couldn’t be tracked, tweaking it and shit. Costed me over 5 million for everything.” she said sitting on her bed taking a puff from the blunt. She was definitely starting to feel the high.

“How much you selling it for?”

“Well, I was able to make different things with it. So, depending on what it is. The lowest price I got so far is 250k.” she said handing him the blunt. He sat down in the recliner she had in her room.

“Damn,,”

“Yeah, I’ve already got people trying to do pre-orders but you know that’s not really my thing.” she said.

“So, will I be able to get my hands on a few.” he asked her as she laughed.

“Oh, your too funny. Just like everyone else, you need to come in contact with my team. Then I’ll see if you can get some of those products.” she responded. He kissed his teeth.

“Sorry, just because you’re the only client that I’ve had sex with doesn’t mean you can just get to me to get access or discounts.” she said. “If I thought with my Punani instead of my head with y’all niggas, I’d be broker than broke. No offense.”

“Yeah, you got a point.” she put the blunt on the night stand before standing up. She walked towards him, throwing her legs over him, sitting down in his lap before he leaned back placing his hands on her ass rubbing it.

“I’m guessing you missed me too.”

“Yeah, I guess I missed your big headed ass.” she sighed, as he gave her ass a slap. She jumped a bit before biting his lip. He forgot that she liked that.

She felt his dick pressing on her. “What you want from me, huh?” he asked her as they smirked each other. His plump lips was pouted and his eyes hang low, probably feeling a little high from the blunt. All she saw was a beautiful ass man, with a face she could use as a seat.

“I wanna ride your face.”

He raised an eyebrow at her as she smiled innocently at him. His mouth started to water at the thought of her pussy in his mouth. It was crazy how sweet she tasted, especially when she came. Tasted like honey and brown sugar.

He placed his hands under ass before standing up and walking to her bed. He placed her down before looking at her. He leaned down grabbing her by the con before leaning in for a kiss. The kiss was sweet and passionate. He really wanted to show her how much he missed her.

As they kissed, his hand trailed up the shirt coming into contact with her clothed wetness. He pulled them off with both hands still kissing her. His fingers found her clot rubbing it. His fingers were cold, she shivered at the coldness and the sensitivity. She moaned into the kiss as he pulled away.

“I’m barely touching you and your already breaking.” he chuckled. He sat down beside her before taking his shoes of then pulling her into his lap and laying back. “Come set that pussy on my tongue.” without a second thought, she lifted her shirt, letting it sit over her ass as she placed herself on his tongue. Without hesitation, Erik had his tongue deep inside of her.

He could physically feel her squeezing himself around his dick making him moan, “Fuck daddy... eat my pussy just like that.” she whimpered out. He gripped her ass cheeks, squeezing one as she moaned.

She grinded her hips, riding his tongue as she threw her head back. He was trying to talk to her, but he had his mouth full.

He reached down, grabbing his dick palming it through his sweats. It was getting painful, and the restrictions of his sweatpants was not helping. She looked back and saw him touching his self before an idea popped into her head.

“Hold up.” she lifted herself off before turning around. She hovered over his face, pulling the band from his sweatpants down. She pulled down the red and black Gucci boxers down freeing him as he winced. She looked at his dick before licking her lips. He was beautiful. Long and thick, pre cum dripping down the sides running down the veins. Within a split second, her lips wrapped around the tip, as her tongue swirled around it collecting all of his pre cum. She moaned at the taste, he always tasted like fruit.

“Fuck.. don’t tease me. Put all of daddy in ya mouth.” he grunted. She followed his instructions before wrapping her hands around the base of his dick. She moved her hands slowly stroking as she sucked him.

“C’mon on daddy, keep eating my pussy..” she encouraged him as he moaned.

“Freaky ass.. I got you.” His lips wrapped her clit, sucking on it as she moaned around his dick. The feeling of giving and receiving pleasure at the same time wasn’t new to her, but her first time doing it, she knew that this wasn’t the last time doing it.

He was big, but she was determined to fit him all her in mouth. And she did just that. His dick was deep in her throat, she hummed in pleasure, the vibrations sent to him as he let out a deep moan. “Fuck baby girl...” he moaned as she smiled. She leaned up, stroking him while rubbing along his hard dick, her spit dripping down to his balls.

He slowly thrusted into her hand as she smirked at his desperation. Finally, she had him like putty in her hands. She lifted up off of him before kissing him. She straddled his hips, his dick slightly rubbing against her pussy, the both of them moaning. She stood up, breaking away from her as she smiled.

She pulled the T-Shirt from her body before he stood up, taking off his clothes. She got down on her knees before looking up at him, batting her eyelashes at him. “You want daddy to fuck your throat. Huh?” he asked cupping her cheeks as she nodded. “No, say it.”

“I want daddy to fuck my throat.. pretty please.” she begged licking the tip as he threw his head bad.

“There you go, beg me. Open your fucking mouth.” he said. Her mouth was open and he inserted her mouth, before thrusting in and out of he mouth. She loved gagging on his dick, and she knew that he loved that sound.

He was talking, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was just focused on the attack on her throat. She snuck her hands down the front, inserting a finger in her wetness before moaning, her eyes rolling back as she fingered herself.

“Yeah, play with that wet ass pussy. I can hear that shit all the way from up here.” she looked up at him, holding his dick in her throat. He pulled out.

“There is no way I’m cumming like that.” he said before grabbing her by her face and lifting her up. He smashed his lips into her, the two of them kissing in sync. “Fuck me...” she whispered. In a swift movement, Erik pushed her on the bed, as she opened up her legs.

The wetness was smeared all on her inner thighs, the center glowing with her wetness as she smirked at him. “Fuck..” he grunted getting in between her legs. He kissed her, distracting her from her. He inserted her as she gasped.

“Shit daddy..” she moaned. Damn she was hella tight. “Fuck your too big.” she whispered throwing her head back. Erik kissed along her neck, to her chin, then placed a kissed on her lips.

“Quit all that, take this dick like a big girl. Ain’t ya first time, so take it.” he said slowly stroking her. Already, she was creaming on his dick.

“Mmm, daddy. Fuck me just like that.” she whimpered out as he smiled at her.

“Yeah.. that’s right. Take this dick in that tight ass pussy. Making a mess all over my dick.. disrespectful.” he grunted out. She bit down on her lip, opening her eyes meeting his. She clenched her self tighter just to get a reaction out of him. His eyes fluttered closed, as he clenched his jaw. She smirked. .

“Daddy don’t slow down, that shit feels too good.” she teased him. It pissed him off how fast she was about to cum.. way too fast. And she was teasing him about it.

“Come up here ride my shit, since you wanna be all bold and shit. Hurry that ass up.” They flipped over as Erik was on his back. She sat down on his dick moaning as it hit her walls.

“Shit.. just use my shit bitch. That’s it.” he grunted as she moaned. She was so close and he was too. Maybe it was just because of the way that they were fucking each other, or maybe it was because it’s been a minute since the last time they fucked, but the two of them were both on edge.

She leaned back opening her legs as she showing him going in and out of her. “Feels so good.” she whispered to herself.

“Yeah show me all that. Just nasty..” he grunted fucking up into her. He was cumming. There was no point in stopping or trying to hold back considering he was close. And by the look and feel of the things, she was close to.

“Daddy... I’ma gonna-” She was interrupted by him cumming deep inside her walls. He moaned out, digging his hands in her ass as she moaned out loud. She continued fucking him, chasing her own orgasm.

“Fuck.. fuck.” he grunted out as she continued riding him. That’s when she squirted all over his stomach. She fell forward, her head resting in her neck as they stayed like that for a minute.

“We need to go again.. that shit was-”

“Hold up.. I need to catch my breath. You know I got asthma.” she said as he laughed.

“You need ya inhaler or something?”

“Nah, lemme just catch my breath.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

(Y/N) walked into the warehouse, looking at her woman pointing their gun at the poor man. The captain of the group, Venom, had her knife to his neck.

Let’s just say, her team was ruthless. They were a team made of women, who handled her.. business. They were called the Mona Lisa’s. Mainly because they showed no remorse or emotion. But because the actual Mona Lisa was beautiful and mysterious, they gained that nickname. The tricked men into get information, they were amazing actresses actually. They could make somebody feel wanted and loved... and we all know how dangerous that could be.

“Who are you?”

“I ain’t telling you shit, bitch.” he snapped at her as she rolled her eyes.

“We gonna skip that part where you try to be all tough. There is nothing stopping Venom here from slashing your throat and trust me. That would most definitely be the high light of her day.” she warned him. “Actually, the highlight of her day would be torturing you until you speak.” she said matter of factly.

“Weak ass bitches, you don’t scare no body.” (Y/N) looked at Venom and smirked at him.

“You take your time with him. Call me when he says something.”

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

(Y/N) ran a face scan through the system, to find out that he use to work for Erik. Name was Claw. Nasty and just plain annoying. After stealing money from Erik and killing one of his close friends, he was never seen again. Erik and a lot of other lords

“So what is this surprise you got for me?” he asked him walking past her in her quarters where they did their interrogations. The entire time he was looking at her ass. They walked to the door as she turned around,

“Look for yourself.” He walked in the room, looking in the glass window seeing him tied to a chair, as Venom continued cutting his fingers off his one hand, piece by piece.

“Is that-”

“In the flesh. I caught him trying to sneak into my warehouse where I’m holding some of my weapons.” she said as he looked at her.

“I hope it’s not the-”

“It’s not the Stark ones. Those are in Alaska. But I’m worried. Out of all my years of moving and supplying, I’ve never had someone successfully break into my warehouse. And I know the Mona Lisa’s aren’t slacking because they are highly trained. I sent over a hundred of them to Alaska to protect the gear.” she said biting her acrylic thumb in nervousness. “This idiot was dumb coming in here alone, but I know niggas. Niggas that are smarter, and I just have this deep feeling that someone is planning something to get at me.” she looked at Erik. He’s known her for years, she’s never really shown nervousness or being scared. He saw that she was genuinely scared. Some might say she was over thinking, but in her line of work you could never over think.

“Aye calm down, I promise you I won’t let anyone get to you, ight. Even if it takes my last breath.” he reassured her. “Starting with this motherfucker. I’m killing his ass.” he said about to walk to the door to entre the room but she stopped him.

“Wait, lemme talk to him. I got a plan.” she walked into the room before walking over to her.

“Alright, so I know who you are.” she said as he cursed.

“You knew who I was this entire time and you’ve been letting this crazy bitch do this shit!” he yelled at her as (Y/N) laughed.

“Man, calm down. I ain’t even that serious. Plus, it’s been a minute since Venom have had a little bit of fun. She deserves it.” (Y/N) smiled at Venom as Venom smirked at her.

“Anyways, I know that you’re working with Erik. Or use to work with him. I sent a couple of my girls over there to do.. a lil bit of damage. Kill some of his goons, injure a couple more, but I’m keeping Erik alive.” he said as Claw shook his head.

“Your dumb if you did that.”

“Well, you and I both know the success rate my girls have so...” she trailed off.

“No, your dumb if you think that I still work for that bum ass nigga, or I’m trying to get in good terms with him. Fuck his bitch ass..” he said. She chuckled.

“Well it make sense.. I mean, you were his close friend. Right hand man. Makes since you’d try to steal my shit. I did tell my girls to make sure that Erik know your alive.” she said as his face turned to complete fear. She tilted her head to the side pouting.

“Tell me why you tried stealing my shit.”

“I-I was doing it to have so I could sell it.” he said as she rolled her eyes. That’s all she wanted to hear but she still wanted to fuck with him.

“Bull shit. Tell the truth. Either way you’re going to die whether it’s by me or by him. Why?”

“I’m telling you. I only wanted to sell it. Everyone know your work is worth billions and I-I needed some quick cash. J-Just don’t tell him I’m alive.”

“Damn,,, for him to be a bum ass nigga, you a lil scared ain’t you,” she said tilting her head to the side. “Anyways he knows so..” she shrugged.

“N-No he doesn’t. He would’ve been here by-” she looked towards the window than looked back at him. He got the hint. The door opened and Erik walked in, the vein in forehead popping out as his jaw clenched.

“So I’ma a bum ass nigga now?” he asked him, (Y/N) rolled her eyes. She knew his Ego was hurt. Erik looked at Venom, before smiling at her.

“Thanks Sweetheart. Love what you did but I got it from here.” he winked at her as she smiled blushing.

“No problem Erik.” she walked out as (Y/N) chuckled.

Venom was dangerous, well that’s how she got her nickname. But deep down, she was a girl that blushed even at the smallest compliments. She was a sweetie, but if it came down to it, she didn’t hesitate to drop a body. And she did enjoy tourtuing somebody for her enjoyment.

“Look Erik-”

“Don’t say my name. First of all, I’ma kill you for what you did to me. But- I’ma make sure that shit is slow. Especially coming up in here fucking with her. And about that one, I’ma make sure yo ass wish you were dead.”

“Well you have your fun, let me know when everything is done so I can have someone come clean up ya mess.” she placed a kiss on his cheek before walking out.

She knew that Erik was gonna handle business for her, maybe he’ll get a lil something for it.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Here’s a lil fact about me, I’m obsessed with Erik and reader being lords or mob bosses or whatever you wanna call it.

Taglist:

@sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78

@justgetitoverwith0

#erik kilmonger x reader #eriksteven #erik stevens smut #erik kilmonger #erik killmonger smut #killmonger smut

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embracedthevoid · 3 years ago

Text

An Unfortunate Romance

Prince Wilhelm has gained a reputation more suitable for a teen heartthrob than the Prince of Sweden. Constantly pictured with what the press has coined his 'flavour of the week,' he's gained an unfavourable reputation with the tabloids. Being front-page news isn't exactly the type of attention the crown is looking for. The obvious plan to get Prince Wilhelm's image back on track is to find him a stable and respectable boyfriend. And who better than Simon Eriksson? Hillerska's golden boy with the voice of an angel. Too bad Wilhelm and Simon can't stand each other.

Okay, so this fic is the baby of an entire group chat and 100% would not be happening if it weren't for them. I love and appreciate you guys, so I can't not credit you. Without further ado, @edvinroyals @royalhive @allexarrow @thisisour-lastdance @toffeelemon @vquaileggs @violapinkbaby @emmalupin-blog @perfectlyunbiasedobservation @tooindecisivetopickaurl , (otherwise known as the YR Fanfic Association) this one is for you and your beautiful minds 🧡

Note: This wip is going to be kept pretty casual. I'm not going to stick to a regular posting schedule because I want to be able to have some fun with it. So just a fair warning, the updates will be sporadic.

Ch2

Chapter One

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 5559

Read on ao3

"You're joking," Wilhelm has to physically lift his jaw from the floor, trying his best to hold back the sarcastic comment rolling in the back of his mouth.

His mother straightens in her chair, smoothing out her already pristine skirt, "I'm not joking," his mother says with finality, "all involved parties have agreed to the arrangement, and contracts have been signed."

"There's no way Simon Eriksson would agree to this," Wilhelm shouts, gesturing broadly in hopes that his point might actually get across. "First off because it's stupid, and second because he hates me," Wilhelm tries, his mind spinning at the idea of Simon agreeing to help Wilhelm, let alone the crown.

"There will be no further discussion on the matter," his mother speaks diplomatically, with that look in her eyes that she usually saves for difficult conversations with reporters or the public. She barely uses it on Wilhelm, which is how he knows that she is, in fact, being serious.

"Alice will cover the details on your way back to Hillerska this morning." She begins to ready herself by sitting up a little straighter and sticking her nose higher in the air, so she can actually look down on him. "And Wilhelm," she pauses, waiting for his eyes to meet hers, which they reluctantly do. "I don't want any more trouble." She glares pointedly, clearly referring to his most recent escapades.

"Yes," Wilhelm mumbles with defeat as she stands from her chair and waltzes out of the room, her entourage following close behind as the massive doors are drawn shut behind her.

Wilhelm looks hopelessly across the room at Erik, who rises from the century-old chair he'd been watching the whole thing unfold from. Wilhelm feels a slight hint of betrayal when he sees his brother chuckling to himself, and maybe a little at Wilhelm.

"I tried to warn you," Erik says with a hint of sympathy but mostly amusement. Wilhelms frowns as his brother makes his way closer from across the overly sized room.

"There's no way in hell Simon actually agreed to this." Wilhelm groans, slumping back in his chair as irritation begins to brew in his mind, "They're already forcing me to go to Hillerska, and now they want to determine who I date? Will it ever end?" There's a little more desperation in Wilhelm's voice than he'd like, but he can't help it.

Since he was little, there hasn't been a single aspect of Wilhelm's life that he actually felt he had control of. Then, he got old enough to date, and well, his mother couldn't really say much about that, could she? Especially when he came out to the country through a tasteful Instagram post that Erik secretly helped him put together, without clearing it with their Public Relations team. He'd had his phone taken away for a month after that. Someone else posted photos from his account like everything was normal. Like he wasn’t being held captive in his room for trying to be himself. Sure, his 'room' included a home theatre and more books than he could read in a lifetime, but the point still stands.

Queen Katherine had to learn to roll with the punches when it came to her youngest son. Because hey, it's the 21st century and being the queen who is 'one with the times' makes approval ratings go up, and of course, that's the important part. Wilhelm should have known his mother could manage to spin even his sexuality into some sort of PR stunt. Maybe he hoped she'd have a few more motherly morals than that. But no, protecting the crown comes first.

"Hey," Erik grabs Wilhelm's attention, suddenly kneeling down in front of him. When did that happen? "It's only for a couple months. And how bad could this Simon guy be?" Erik teases, "I've seen pictures. He's cute."

"Yea, if you consider a condescending self-righteous prick to be 'cute,'" Wilhelm sarcastically glares, then sinks further into his seat, bringing his palms to cover his face and groaning theatrically.

He hears Erik chuckle, "that bad," he asks like he's trying desperately to help Wilhelm out.

Wilhelm uncovers his face, hands falling to his lap, looking his brother dead in the eyes. "The first day I met him, he practically accused our family of stealing money from the people who actually deserve it. In front of the entire class." Wilhelm emphasizes the last bit, hoping Erik will grasp how dire his situation is.

Sure, Wilhelm knew full well what Simon had said that day was more than accurate, but that didn't mean he needed to be a dick about it.

"Think of it this way," Erik stands, clapping a supportive hand on Wilhelm's shoulder, "you'll never run out of things to talk about,” he smiles encouragingly, “or argue about."

Wilhelm groans into his hands once more, "this is going to be a nightmare."

~ ~ ~ ~

Rain plasters itself across the vehicle's window as Wilhelm and Alice make their way to Hillerska that same morning. The beginning of the ride is quiet. Neither of them says much, but the closer they get to the school, the more Wilhelm can feel nerves adding to the anxiety holding in his chest. It isn't until Alice speaks that he realizes how serious this whole plan is, despite how absolutely ridiculous it is.

"Right, so we've planned yours and Simon's schedules in a way that can benefit you both," Alice begins to explain, handing Wilhelm a thin stack of papers. The first line reads Important Dates, with a list that runs through to the backside of the paper. Taking a closer look, Wilhelm can see it’s full of planned outings, Simon's birthday is along with Wilhelms, and the times for which the paparazzi will be 'anonymously' notified of their whereabouts. He assumes Simon got a copy of this as well.

"This is never going to work. Everyone in school knows we hate each other," Wilhelm interrupts Alice as she begins explaining point seven, like Wilhelm had even been listening in the first place.

"Yes," she pauses calmly. "This is why you aren't making a statement on your relationship immediately. It will be up to the both of you to naturally create the connection for peers." Alice explains smoothly, and it makes Wilhelm feel sick.

"Now your first outing is tomorrow. We want to get things going right away. You will be sent to Stockholm, dine at Etoile, and return to Hillerska before ten pm." She tells it like it's the sanest situation in the world. Like the idea of Simon and Wilhelm going on a date isn't the last thing anyone would expect from the two.

Alice continues going through Wilhelm's next six months, and he does everything he can to bite his tongue. The poor woman is just doing her job, but Wilhelm really wishes she wouldn't. The itinerary in his hands bends in his fist the closer they get to the school. When the car pulls onto the gravel drive, Wilhelm is out before she can finish going over the last few points. He hears her call after him but ignores the woman, heading straight to his room and slamming the door closed behind him.

He rips off his jacket and sucks in a quick breath like it's impossible to fill his lungs with air. He sits on the bed, leaning back against the wall and tucking his head between his knees, willing the pain in his chest to leave him the hell alone. But it doesn't. It persists into his throat, making it impossible for him to swallow, adding complicated layers to his already panicked state.

How did this happen? How did Wilhelm end up trapped in a life he never wanted. How did he go from bounds of freedom to a school he never wanted to go to? When did finally being free to love, even if only for one night, who he wants, turn into fake dating a boy who doesn't even like him?

Wilhelm thinks back to Erik's words, I tried to warn you, and he did. He warned Wilhelm every time another picture surfaced of him sucking face with a random boy, or leaving a bar –he definitely shouldn't have been at– with someone 3 years his senior. Or every time he was photographed face down on the pavement, already knowing what the next day's headlines would be. 'Problem Prince hits the streets in drunken chaos' or his personal favourite, 'Prince not so charming: An inside look on Prince Wilhelm's flavour of the week.'

Wilhelm likes to have fun. It's the only part of his life where he can let himself relax without his mother determining every factor of who he is as a person. It's not his fault that every time he goes out with a specific group of friends, he ends up with shots being poured down his throat. And he's fairly certain his mother wouldn't want to be around for that.

This is how Wilhelm ended up at Hillerska and with a fake soon-to-be boyfriend. Wilhelm agreed to go to the school but never promised his mom he would give up his friends. He didn't think she'd actually be able to do anything about that, but apparently, he'd been wrong. She's surprised him again on just how desperate she is for the people of Sweden's approval.

Wilhelm flops down on his bed, landing sideways and staring across the room. How has this become his life? And how the hell is he supposed to convince the school that he and Simon are a couple.

Somehow Wilhelm manages to shut his eyes and let sleep overcome him, trying desperately not to overthink the situation.

~ ~ ~ ~

Wilhelm has always been good at waiting. He had to be growing up the way he did. Waiting for his mother to get ready for an event, waiting for his father to finish an interview, or wasting time waiting for any other royal family member to complete whatever task was deemed more important than tucking Wilhelm in at night.

So waiting for Simon to join him in the headmistresses office, which Alice seems to have commandeered for the morning, to arrive should be a simple task. Yet, Wilhelm can't stop tapping his thumb against his armrest, and alternating this other hand between running through his hair and chewing on his nail.

Wilhelm almost jumps from his seat when the door finally does open, and the curly-haired boy comes into view. Their eyes immediately lock, and Wilhelm knows his cheeks have turned an embarrassing shade of pink, trying not to shrink away at how humiliating this is for him. Of all the people to choose, they had to pick Simon Eriksson. But of course they did. Simon Eriksson is the school's golden boy. Straight A's, lead member of the choir, and honour student. Basically, he's everything Wilhelm isn't.

"Wonderful, now that we're all here," Alice says with more enthusiasm than necessary, probably trying to lighten the mood. "Simon, why don't you take a seat," she gestures to the chair beside Wilhelm and leans back against the desk it faces. She crosses her legs in front of her, straining the fabric of her pencil skirt that hits just past her knees. It's very sensible, but then again, that seems to be a prominent trait of Alice's. Sensible.

Simon sits down without looking at Wilhelm. He shifts in his chair, backpack tucked on the floor near his feet, staring blankly up at Alice, like class has just begun and he's waiting for the lecture to start. He looks completely calm and uncaring, which for some reason, strikes an annoyed cord in Wilhelm. But he chooses to ignore it for now and tries to focus on Alice, despite her insufferable tone. Wilhelm swears the woman really is just trying to do her job.

"Now I've gone over the plan with both of you individually, but I thought it best we touch base before the ball gets rolling." She starts, "as both of you are aware, this–" she seems to struggle for the right word, "relationship," she settles on, "has been constructed with the hopes that it will correct Prince Wilhelm's public image." She explains carefully.

Simon snorts, and Wilhelm sinks into his chair.

"Now, ground rules." She gets more serious, "No touching is required. Both of you are minors, so we do not expect either of you to follow through with any physical touch," Wilhelm's face goes hot, and he's sure he sees Simon tense in his chair. "However, I am to encourage you both that selling your feelings for each other is very important in ensuring success," she emphasizes, which basically translates to, 'I won't pressure you because it's illegal. So I'm going to do it inadvertently with vague sentences.'

"You both need to start building this relationship the moment you step out of these doors. This isn't just a show for when the cameras are around. This is your life now, so act like it." She says in a polite yet stern way that Wilhelm is starting to recognize as a particular brand of Alice's. It's unnerving. "Your first date is tonight. This is the perfect opportunity for you two to get to know each other a bit better, so I suggest you take it. Now, any questions."

Wilhelm remains silent, his only question being whether they can make the next six months go by any faster. And he has a sneaking suspicion that Alice won't be too keen to actually answer that question.

Unsurprisingly Simon has something to comment on. He always does.

"My friend's football game is next Friday, and we're supposed to have a date that day," Simon explains, already sounding unimpressed. Wilhelm tries not to find it annoying how easy everything is for Simon to talk about it already. "I can't miss the game. I told her I'd be there."

"Perfect," Alice smirks and flips to a page in her day planner, writing something down, "you can take Wilhelm. It will show how close the two of you are becoming." She answers with a smile.

Wilhelm can already feel his anxiety tightening in his throat at the thought of spending a whole evening with Simon and his friends. There's no way they'll get along. Why the hell would Simon mention that? They could have worked something out between the two of them. Wilhelm makes a mental note to bring that up with Simon later.

"That's not what I–"

"Good, I'm glad that's all answered," Alice cuts Simon off before he can properly protest, "I'll be in touch throughout the week to ensure everything is going according to schedule." She stands up straight and exits the room, leaving both Simon and Wilhelm alone, sitting in silence for a second longer than Wilhelm finds comfortable.

"Well, I guess we–" Wilhelm tries to break the tension.

"–I'll see you tonight." Simon interrupts, standing from his seat, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, and storming out the room without so much as glancing in Wilhelm's direction.

Well, that could have gone better.

~ ~ ~ ~

Wilhelm shouldn't be nervous. It's a ridiculous fake date for the love of God. So why is he sweating through his gray button-down tucked into his nicest pair of dress pants? He and Simon didn't speak for the rest of the day. They didn't say a single word, even when they stood in line directly next to each other to load food onto their plates at lunch. It was like nothing had changed. Simon completely ignored that they were going on a date tonight where they most definitely will be pictured together. It was like the boy was pretending that there would be no turning back on this idiotic rouse.

Wilhelm jumps when the door of the car opens, too trapped in his head to realize he's arrived at his destination. Wilhelm steps out of the car, kicking a pebble that bounces across the cracked pavement. He takes in the scene around him. Simon lives in a typical housing complex in Bjärstad. Similar houses lining each other mirroring the same colour schemes and old paths that lead to their front doors.

Wilhelm follows the one he's told is Simon's house and stops in front of the door. Taking a deep breath and running his hand through his hair, he knocks and regrets it immediately. Now there really is no turning back.

For a second, Wilhelm genuinely considers slipping out of view and letting Simon think the knock was some kids' feeble attempt at Nicky-Nicky-Nine-Doors. But he thinks better of it, mainly because someone is opening the door before he can give it a real go.

"You're early." Simon cuts before Wilhelm can say a proper hello. Not that he'd be able to, considering the way Simon looks. They must have provided him with a suit because there's no way in hell Simon would be caught wearing something Wilhelm can recognize by brand. Not because he can't afford it, but because Simon would probably make some ethical argument on exploitative labour that goes into making the clothes. Which would make Wilhelm feel like shit, because well, he happens to like those types of clothes.

However, Wilhelm's mind doesn't dwell on the fact for long because Simon is pushing past him, their shoulders bumping harshly. The brief contact carries a shock down Wilhelm's arm to his fingertips. He shakes the feeling away and turns around, following Simon's lead to the car.

Wilhelm tries his best to keep his eyes forward, but he can't help dropping his gaze from the spread of Simon's shoulders, fitted perfectly under his navy blazer, to the curve of his ass. Because holy hell, he's never seen Simon in a suit, especially not one that fits so well.

Wilhelm clears his throat, mind finally catching up with his body, and jogs slightly to meet Simon at the car. Before Simon can reach out to pull the door, and before Malin can try, Wilhelm grabs the handle and tugs it open for him. Simon looks at Wilhelm in a way that says he's already fed up with the whole situation.

"I can open my own doors," Simon grumbles, stepping into the car, but not before rolling his eyes.

"I'm aware," Wilhelm says under his breath, moving to the other side of the vehicle, where Malin holds the door open. He thanks her and slides in to sit next to Simon, who is looking anywhere but in Wilhelm's direction.

They ride in silence, Wilhelm very aware of Simon's presence and the two-hour car ride ahead of them. This is going to be torture, and not for the reasons Wilhelm initially thought.

Of course, he knew holding a conversation wouldn't be the strongest point of their 'relationship.' But what he didn't expect was for Simon to look so good. Head resting against his hand, leaning against the door, eyes glaring out the window. Wilhelm watches his profile become more apparent as the sun begins to set, casting a pinkish hue within the car, emphasizing the structure of Simon's jaw. Sharp enough that Wilhelm considers reaching out to trace it, certain that the definition might cut him. Not that he wants to, of course, only out of pure curiosity.

It's strange. The Simon sitting beside Wilhelm in the car looks nothing like Simon from school. His hair is neater, and his expression more stoic. Like there's a wall built higher than the day this whole arrangement was made. It's an unusual contrast to the curly-haired boy Wilhelm laid eyes on that first day of school when he heard Simon sing.

Wilhelm's not sure he likes it.

"Are you planning on staring at me all evening?" Simon turns his head, irritation evident in how he's glaring at Wilhelm, like he's the sole reason for the class divide.

"Uh–" Wilhelm stutters, embarrassment flushing over him. He hopes the glow of the setting sun is enough to mask the pink in cheeks. "I was just uh– I've never seen you..." Wilhelm pathetically gestures to the entirety of Simon, clearing nothing up and turning a deeper shade of red.

"What, in something other than second-hand clothes?" Simon snaps, and Wilhelm knows he's already fucked up, "not all of us can afford to go on a shopping spree every time we get bored with a single article of clothing."

Wilhelm tries not to flinch at Simon's defensiveness, but it's hard not to. "I was just going to say you look nice," Wilhelm mumbles, "but I guess I'll keep it to myself." He thinks he can see a flicker of something that looks like embarrassment waver over Simon's features.

"Probably best you keep a lot of things to yourself,"

They don't talk again after that, and Wilhelms collar grows increasingly tight, so he undoes the top two buttons, not missing the way Simon's eyes cast down at the newly exposed skin. He shifts in his seat and turns back to face the window.

When they arrive at the restaurant, no reporters are waiting, not yet anyway. They both exit the car, Simon apprehensive as they make their way to the vast entrance. Wilhelm wonders if Simon has been anywhere this fancy before. He wants to tell Simon it's not all that exciting and food is usually terrible, but he doesn't, unsure if Simon would take it as patronizing.

When they enter the restaurant, Wilhelm follows Simon's expressions. He hears a small gasp escape from the boy as he takes in the room. A high ceiling towers over them, with a huge chandelier threatening from above. Wilhelm wonders if people avoid this place after seeing Phantom of the Opera.

They're quickly greeted and guided through a slew of patrons enjoying their meals and up a rather theatrical set of grand stairs. They're led to a private table nearest to a large window with a view of the city. One that's surprisingly stunning, considering they're only on the second floor.

"Will this be suitable, Prince Wilhelm," the host asks, gesturing to the white-clothed table.

"It's perfect, thank you." Wilhelm smiles politely, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the formality. Usually, it doesn't bother him so much, but with Simon staring at him, it's hard not to be very aware of the special treatment he receives.

They both have their chairs pulled out for them by waiters who seem to emerge out of nowhere. Simon jumps back in his seat, glancing uncomfortably at his waiter when the man unfolds his napkin and begins to place it on Simon's lap. Wilhelm has to hold back a laugh at how Simon tears it from the poor man's hands and crumples the offending material into a ball.

"My apologies, sir,' the waiter says with a curt nod that Wilhelm can place as an attempt to cover his annoyance.

"Can I start you off with anything to drink?" The waiter asks, only looking at Wilhelm rather than Simon. Which annoys him a bit, and he's not sure why.

Wilhelm orders water and asks Simon what he would like, who unenthusiastically asks for the same.

When the waiter steps away, Simon seems to relax a bit, adjusting in his seat and lightly tossing his napkin on the place setting in front of him. Wilhelm watches as he pulls on the front of his blazer, attempting to straighten it despite it fitting perfectly already.

The server comes back with their waters and hands them their menus. There's a whole list of choices that Wilhelm knows he won't like. That's the thing with places like this, everything is extravagant and much too decadent for his liking.

Wilhelm studies Simon over his menu who's eyes roam the page as if lost in a foreign language. "Try the Soupe à l’Oignon Gratinée. It's usually quite good," Wilhelm offers, hoping he doesn't come off as pushy. But from the way Simon is looking at him, he might as well be speaking another language, which technically he is since the soup is French. "Or I could order for you if you'd like?" Wilhelm tries, attempting some form of courtesy.

"My prince charming," Simon mumbles, placing the menu down on the table above his poor distorted napkin.

Wilhelm runs a hand through his hair, the comment rubbing him the wrong way. He hates when people refer to him like that. And for some reason, hearing it come from Simon, laced with disgust, it's even worse.

Wilhelm crosses his legs under the table, and his foot accidentally collides with Simon's shin and he’s quick to apologize, but Simon completely ignores him. It takes a fair combination of circumstances to make Wilhelm frustrated, and Simon is coming dangerously close to it. The least he could do was try. Wilhelm is, so can't he?

"Why are you even doing this?" Wilhelm blurts before he can really consider what he's asking.

Simon's eyes snap up to his, looking somewhat shocked by Wilhelm's outburst. In truth, Wilhelm is surprised himself, but he's already come this far, so why not just lay everything out clearly.

"I don't get it," Wilhelm confesses, "what could you possibly gain from this?" he asks, gesturing between them.

Of course, Wilhelm knows that Simon is getting something in return for this ridiculous arrangement. Alice had been quick to ensure that Wilhelm knew Simon would be appropriately 'compensated' for his troubles. Whatever the hell that means. He thinks she might have said it to make him feel better, but in truth, it didn't. It actually made him feel a bit sick.

"Well?" Wilhelm pushes, trying to make sense of why someone so against the mere idea of Wilhelms existence would agree to spend the majority of his time with him for the next six months.

"I have my reasons," Simon crosses his arms over his chest.

"And those reasons would be?" Wilhelm gestures for Simon to continue.

Simon lets out an annoyed huff, eyes darting around the restaurant like he's making sure no one will see them, which is exactly the opposite of what they're supposed to be doing.

"Look, let's just focus on getting through the next six months, alright?" The boy snaps. "We don't need to actually get to know each other," there's a level of disdain in Simon's voice that makes Wilhelm's stomach turn to something ugly. He didn't have any farfetched illusions that he and Simon would become friends, but he thought maybe they'd at least try to be civil. Apparently, Wilhelm was wrong.

Simon adjusts his blazer again, something Wilhelm wishes he'd stop doing because it only makes Wilhelm focus on how insanely attractive Simon is. If this were normal circumstances, and Wilhelm didn't already know Simon hated him, he would definitely try to take Simon home tonight. Which would probably go terribly wrong, considering that no matter the hypothetical universe, Simon wouldn't give Wilhelm the time of day, and he's pretty sure he disapproves of Wilhelms' serial dating lifestyle,' as it is.

Wilhelm startles when their waiter comes to the table prepared to take their order. He gracefully orders the dish he’d suggested earlier for both of them. Taking a shot in the dark on if Simon will be annoyed by it, but he doesn't say anything, so Wilhelm thinks it's the right choice.

The waiter dismisses himself, leaving them to their uncomfortable silence. Wilhelm doesn't know what to say, and he's relatively sure that Simon wouldn't be very receptive if he tried. But that doesn't stop him, because well, he's curious about Simon. And if he's going to spend the next six months with a person who hates him, Wilhelm might as well know why.

"What's your problem with me anyway," Wilhelm challenges, trying to keep his voice even.

"What?" Simon looks genuinely confused.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath urging himself on, "why do you hate me? I know you're not super into the whole monarchy thing, but you don't even know me." Wilhelm says, keeping his eyes locked on Simons, hoping that the steady stare is enough to get an answer from the boy.

"Um–" Simon begins, opening his mouth then closing it like he's not even sure of his own answer. "It's not that I don't like–"

The waiter appears out of nowhere, placing both their dishes before them, saving Simon from a response. The waiter asks if they need anything else, and Wilhelm dismisses him. Eyes landing back on Simon, who's already diving into his meal.

Simon gracelessly shovels a spoonful into his mouth, closing his eyes and letting out a satisfied moan that echoes in Wilhelm's ears and carries a shiver down his spine. When Simon opens his eyes, they land on Wilhelm, paused mid-bite with parted lips, rendered speechless.

"What," Simon shrugs, oblivious to the inappropriate places he's just sent Wilhelm’s mind.

"Nothing," Wilhelm squeaks, then carefully swallows his own bite, afraid he might choke if the boy makes that noise again. Simon gives him a strange look that Wilhelm pointedly ignores for the next five minutes.

Eventually, the waiter comes to check on how they're getting on with their food. "It's delicious, thank you," Wilhelm grins at the man, who looks satisfied by the praise.

"And you, sir?" This time his attention is directed at Simon, "Ah, I see you've mistaken the Desert Spoon for your Bouillon Spoon, an easy mistake to make," the waiter supplies somewhat condescending.

Wilhelm can swear he sees Simon's confidence waver.

"Oh– uh…" Simon trails off.

Without thinking, Wilhelm places his Bouillon Spoon down and grabs the same style as Simon's. He discreetly dips it into his bowl as if it's been there the whole time. "Oh," Wilhelm grabs both their attention, "it appears I've made the same mistake as well. Thank you for bringing it to my attention." Wilhelm says with a little more courtesy than necessary, stringing his words with his own note of patronizing, but not enough to be considered rude.

"Excuse me, Prince Wilhelm," The waiter begins to apologize, clearly embarrassed by what could be perceived as correcting the Prince of Sweden. Something Wilhelm really cares little about, but for the sake of their situation, he can at least pretend to. "I didn't mean to correct you," the waiter emphasizes, digging himself a deeper grave.

"I'm sure," Wilhelm smiles dismissively, and their waiter stalks off with his tail between his legs.

Simon is quiet for a moment looking down at his bowl. Wilhelm can see him contemplating something, and he realizes what when Simon makes a point to keep using his Dessert spoon. Wilhelm smiles to himself and continues to do the same.

"You didn't have to do that," Simon mumbles, looking out the large window beside them.

"Do what," Wilhelm pretends innocence as he takes a sip of his water, looking at Simon over the glass.

"I can stand up for myself," Simon quietly says.

"I know," Wilhelm assures in a way that tells Simon he doesn't doubt it whatsoever, "but you don't have to all the time. I think it falls under fake boyfriend duties." Wilhelm thinks he sees the boy smile a bit, but he's not sure.

The rest of their dinner goes smoothly after that, and their waiter is suddenly changed to a blonde woman, which Wilhelm isn't upset by. They talk a little about the food and share a dessert, too stuffed by their entree to handle one on their own.

Simon scrapes the last of the fudge off their plate making a horrible sound. A woman two tables over glares in Simon's direction, so he makes a point to do it again. Wilhelm watches the ordeal unfold with amusement, and decides to interrupt before the woman walks over and rips the utensil from Simon's hand.

"Shall we," Wilhelm asks, peering out the window and down to the restaurants entrance, where he can already see a slew of reporters gathered, waiting for the perfect photo. Most probably hoping to catch Wilhelm in a sorted state with another stranger on his arm.

"It's not too late to back out," Wilhelm jokes, sending Simon a look that he hopes says I promise I won't be offended if you sneak out the back and leave me to the dogs.

"I don't back out of a deal," Simon gives him a tight smile, and Wilhelm's stomach twists.

"Right," Wilhelm returns with a half-smile. The deal.

They stand from their chairs and begin walking toward the grand stairs. "Don't you have to pay," Simon asks. Stopping midway down, tugging at the collar of his button-down shirt.

Wilhelms moves down a step, so he looks up at Simon, "It's already dealt with," he explains, noticing the way Simon pulls at his blazer again. Wilhelm is starting to think it might be a nervous gesture. His worries are confirmed when he follows Simon's gaze behind him at the doors where he can already see the reporters getting in position.

"You really don't have to do this," Wilhelm tells him, his voice serious.

Simon's eyes drag away from the already flashing lights that glare through the muddled glass, "I'm fine," Simon says almost robotically.

Wilhelm doesn't believe him, but when Simon steps down and tucks his arm through Wilhelms, letting him lead the way, Wilhelm plays along.

If Simon can pretend to be okay, then so can Wilhelm.

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