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#Whoops! I did it again :D

ourfavoritetorturedwriter · 1 month

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I just realized, I have ~155 hours in Alan Wake 2. You wanna guess how many actual, complete playthroughs I did? Yeah, exactly, two.

#whoops #:D #like #i did my initial playthrough #and then final draft when it came out #technically i am currently on my third one (final draft again)#the rest is from taking screenshots #and just messing around #alan wake #alan wake 2

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frogenthusiastt · 1 year

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19/sea change for prompt meme?

19. Sea change (totally read this as sea of change because i couldnt think of a single thing to match this prompt lol sorry)

The first lesson Nicholas is taught is loneliness.

At 8 years old he's long since learnt that he lacks the cherubic qualities required to be granted adoption by a rich, childless couple. He looks poor and desolate, sure, but not in the way that makes adults want to swoop him up into a blanket and coo over his poor fate. He wears the kind of thousand yard stare that makes them avert their eyes in discomfort, that reminds them of the casualties of poverty in the entirely wrong way.

Still, he has Livio trailing after his steps like a lost puppy. Together they learn how to live like weeds growing in the cracks of pavement, how to be alone together. It's a lesson to be learnt, for sure, how to keep the lights on in the dark.

The second lesson he learns is shame.

Mask clad adults, clapping and telling him welcome child, to the path of God. They pat him on his back and ruffle his hair, all gloved impersonal hands.

The Eye of Michael teach him how to chant the psalms, how to recount his sins and that salvation lies in abandonment of your body and acquiescence of pain. He's taught the vital points of the body and how to gouge knives in the hearts of men, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned. His body grows and grows into a holy weapon, and he learns how to kill a man without flinching. This is a terrible lesson.

The third lesson is pain.

Nicholas has known pain before, like a distant uncle. Now pain is his mother and father, his creation and Eucharist. Once he'd proven his body a worthy tool before Chapel and the acolytes, they take him apart into his base components and Unmake him into something inhuman. Terrible liquids seep into his body through needles and plastic tubes, for this is the Blood of the Covenant and through it thou shalt be made Holy. His flesh is carved and replaced, for Holy is the body of Christ and through it thou shalt be made perfect and free from Sin.

When he is lucky, they sedate him and the world becomes a technicolor kaleidoscope of visions to keep his thoughts occupied. He doesn't know if it's on purpose or just an accidental side effect of whatever chemicals they put in him but he takes it gratefully, thankful for just a moment to breathe throughout the nightmare of hurt.

He never learns what exactly they did to him, but when he's finally released from that terrible white room, he looks in the mirror and finds something other staring back. It takes years for him to recognize it as his face.

The fourth lesson is in efficiency.

Whatever it was they took out of him left an empty hole in his mind. Wherever regret or empathy used to be, only survival remains. Survival means to submit to the hand that's fed him, to take whatever chances given for a paycheck and the lives of the orphanage secured. He doesn't remember the faces of the people he kills, nor their pleas for mercy. He's a cold outer shell in the shape of a man, and so he becomes the employee of the month, of the year, of the decade.

The twist of a tendon, the flick of a wrist to sever flesh from bone, even the stab of a knitting needle through the head to save him the hassle of cleanup. These are the ways he earns a living, and he's damn good at his job. He steels himself against terror and lets the fear of fire and brimstone flow around him and through him like the hull of a sandsteamer, no worse for wear after he's crossed the sands of a thousand bodies piled underneath his feet. He becomes what he's been made to be, finds meaning in his function and keeps the lights on for the children at home. He's efficient, he's good at his job and that's all that counts.

His fifth and final lesson hits him with a truck. He walks in a daze, only half put upon to garner sympathy, and when he lies there bloody and disheveled hope walks out the side door of the car.

It is the most terrible lesson of all, the way the man calls him by name and looks through him like there is any softness in his body worth that blinding smile. Hope tells him that he's something worth salvation, wearing impossible blue eyes and the face of his brother. Nothing Wolfwood has ever been taught prepares him for this unwavering belief in goodness, the warm caress of a mismatched hands against his cheeks, the way he utters his name like it's something precious.

Hope finds him late at night, in soft touches and a hushed voice. Hope foolishly makes him stay in the morning when sunlight paints the white sheets wrapped around a body incandescent and flaxen hair golden. Hope puts his lips against lips, hands against hands, in desperate prayer to keep this one soft thing safe. Hope lights a fire against his will, forces his to look at his life with kinder eyes and wish for another day to come, and Wolfwood has asked for exactly none of it.

Hope laughs at his jokes and whines at his teasing and holds him trembling at night. If he was half the weapon he was made, he would cast it off and escape into the wasteland. It turns out the hands that fed him did a piss poor job of it, because he stays and stays and stays.

It is hope that has him rage at the dying of the light, knees bent in penance against the cold stone floor of the church. Blood splatters against it in a fearful rhythm, body contorted to support himself against the heavy weight of the cross. Still he rages, still he hopes, still he curses the God that made his fate. That he would learn his final lesson, as he lay here dying, must be some terrible cosmic joke from an uncaring creator.

As Wolfwood stills, he takes hope with him. It's the cruelest lesson of all.

#tw body horror #tw medical trauma #tw character death #trigun #nicholas d wolfwood #whoops this got long #frog learn how to do ask prompt meme properly challenge #trigun fic #vashwood #kinda #fic tag #sorry i did a horrors again

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amugoffandoms · 8 months

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DAY FIVE OF MILGRAMTOBER EVERYONE!!

really tried to get something out of this, really wasn't sure what to do today!

Devil's Advocate - idiom, a person who expresses an opinion that disagrees with others so that there will be an interesting discussion about some issue. Historical Context: The Devil's advocate opposed 'God's advocate' (advocatus Dei; also known as the 'Promoter of the Cause'), whose task was to make the argument in favor of canonization. During the investigation of a cause, this task is now performed by the 'Promoter of Justice' (promotor iustitiae), who is in charge of examining the accuracy of the inquiry on the saintliness of the candidate.

Fuuta exhales as he impatiently taps his foot against the floor while staring at the wall across from him.

It's funny. A couple days of days ago, he didn't expect to be in fucking prison. He didn't even... commit murder. But, anyways, what does that matter? There are innocent people here!

"What kind of human rights violation..." Fuuta huffs.

MILGRAM is confining and imprisoning innocent people here! What the fuck kind of… That's wrong! On multiple levels! And, they didn't even them smartphones or computers! What the hell?? They're practically sick in the head for depriving people from the internet.

Everyone's acting like this is a good thing, either to just hang out or be properly judged. How in the slightest is this a good thing???

He's brought this up multiple times just for someone to agree with him and say that this is wrong, but they all seem to just ignore what he says.

It doesn't even matter. He'll fucking scream at the Warden about how wrong this is. He'll be the representative that brings up everything wrong if no one else will. He'll be the one to bring up better treatment.

He needs to make sure everyone knows that they're a prisoner and they need to find a way out because everything here is wrong. He'll shout as loud as he can so everyone can understand that they need to get out of this violation of everyone's rights.

He rubs his eyes as he throws himself onto his bed and stares at the roof instead.

This is wrong! So, why is everyone denying it? Why would you deny the very truth staring in your eyes??

He may be aggressive, but he's at least bringing up good points.

Why would someone kidnap ten different people just to "judge" them?? How fucking stupid--

Fuuta wants to throw a pillow across the room, pissed off at this entire situation.

He'll fucking destroy this place. Show them true justice.

Exhaling, he shuts his eyes. He wants to just forget this place for a little while when he sleeps.

Eventually, he drifts off.

Fuuta stares at his phone, posts he apparently posted but doesn't remember posting on his timeline. He must have posted this in a fit of justice. He saw how wrong this was and knew that there was an injustice being occurred, so he called them out!

He was probably trying to prove her injustice, showing that she's wrong. She needs to understand that! She's in the wrong, so she shouldn't make excuses, right?

He was promoting justice by vanquishing evil and proving how people are in the wrong. When they find out they're wrong, they can hopefully change.

Even if she's young, she... she needs to understand what she's done. She's just another offender, right...?

Shaking his head, he continues to scroll on his phone, lying on his back. He keeps seeing random posts and they're all uninteresting, so he swipes to see any other posts until-

High school student found dead after backlash online

"What?" Fuuta whispers to no one and quickly sits upright. He wraps his blanket around him, just... to feel safe, or something stupid...

He clicks the article and starts reading.

...Girl was found... dead... earlier this morning...

Parents... mentioned backlash online for something... unsure what really happened... stated she was... paranoid days before she died

Police are still... figuring out if... this was a suicide.

"No-- No way... She didn't--" Fuuta mutters.

She wasn't supposed to die.

Fuuta jolts awake with a scream stuck in his lungs. He's fine. He's fine. He's fine.

And... for a moment, he almost thinks he hears someone call him a demon for attacking people and letting the girl die.

He shakes his head. He's just helping justice by vanquishing evil doers, right?

Right?

#mug writes #milgramtober2023 #milgram #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #milgram fanfic #milgram fanfiction #wowee this was kinda!! hard to write #i kinda just used demon and devil interchangeable because i couldn't think of something that fit well with demon jdiwoajda #i did enjoy writing this though! i don't think i've properly written in fuuta's pov before?? so this was interesting :D #woah ill actually be on my phonr when this posts too!! (i have this queued up lol)#while i was reading this again i was like oh wow the ending kinda sets up for someone to be his devil's advocate and tell him #that he didnt serve justice by doing this #whoops o.o

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keef-a-corn · 5 months

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I HAVE MADE A DISCOVERY

AND I NEED YOU ALL TO KNOW

THESE GAYS GUYS

SHARE THE SAME VOICE ACTOR

AS THIS BITCH

(Years apart- but still)

Sparky could join the Bad Batch

There’s a slot open

Perfection

#I just wanted you all to know #I excitedly await Hero’s response #but in the meantime #you all get this :D #sw the bad batch #the bad batch #whoops I did it again #used my photo editing skills for evil #sw tbb #tbb #tbb sparky #making that a tag now #look #all I’m saying is-#Sparky would’ve survived the fall #I use humour to cope #the shot of the goggles hurts me to my core

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m0e-ru · 2 years

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izanami made gay jokes, grabbed some guy's ass, had zero job qualifications but started working anyway to initiate her plans as god, didn't believe people had the strength to accept the ugly truth within themselves thinking they'd all die the moment they're presented with it committing literal self destruction by denial of identity and self. get your facts straight. she is not a plot twist dog was the mastermind antagonist being the literal foundation of lore itself to be reduced to shitty shallow edgy toxic mischaracterized villain exclusive adanami L + ratio + no bitches + didn't watch chair car adventure

#persona 4 spoilers #p4 #⛽️🌫#izanami persona #ggif #badpost #// twirls hair i forgot how none of us in this socalled stupid community can get along 💃💃 didnt mean to for this be aggressive i was just d #// doing satire again to cheer myself up whoops here it is. had fun with the gif though #// from the local self certified iznmi phd whatever can girlies rip adachi out of their brains once in a while it's good for your health #// also dont use bluebird so often BUT the meme format is so funny <- doesnt know what ratio means #// my dumbass did its half a yearly accidentally walk outside of its bubble and had to like sit its ass down and breathe #aspile

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noearchives · 3 months

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things that you do that make his heart skip a beat!

characters: portgas d. ace, sabo, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.

note: you ever get that feeling when your heart feels like it fell out of your ribcage when the person you like does Something . yeah

cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, short drabbles, fluff ^_^

portgas d. ace

when you say "i love you" out loud.

- it's simple, yet it makes his heart stop every time you say it. many people throw around those three words like it meant nothing at all, but to him, it weighs heavier than the entire world.

- when you say it out loud to his face, he immediately beams brighter than the sun.

- he'll never get tired of how those three words roll of your tongue-- it's a reminder of how you love him and him only, out of everyone else on this planet.

- even if the whole world's against him, you still chose him.

- "say it again," he says, the glint in his eyes like a puppy's.

- when you do, he lets out a chuckle and wraps you in his arms, squishing the air out of your lungs as his cheeks turn warm.

- "oh, i love you. iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou," he mumbles into your neck.

sabo

when your fingers accidentally brush against his.

- god, it makes him feel so stupid because you've been together for a while now, and it's silly to get so flustered over something so minor. what is he, 12?

- but whenever the two of you reach for the same pen at the same time and your fingers overlap his during the process, the way you giggle as you say "whoops, sorry about that" makes his poor little heart flutter.

- the effects only double if it happens when the both of you are on a mission together with the rest of the revolutionaries.

- he's supposed to be professional and serious, but when your hand brushes against his when you walk side-by-side, he feels like he has to drop everything he's doing to kiss you silly.

- oh, darling, how can you do something so scandalous as such in front of your fellow coworkers...

- he fights against every fibre of his being to not hold your hand right then and there. it's like torture to him!

trafalgar d. water law

when you bandage his wounds.

- most of the time, even when he says he's alright and he can handle it on his own, you insist on helping him bandage his wounds and take care of him until he's healed.

- he was forced to mature too early when he was a wee child, and he's been taking care of himself ever since-- there's no time nor place for him to be gently cared for.

- so when your mind is focused on nothing but his wounds, delicate fingers wrapping him up as if every movement is calculated to make it hurt the least, his heart melts right there in his ribcage.

- "sorry- did i press too hard?" the look of worry in your eyes is so adorable. he might just pretend that it actually hurt so he can see the knot between your brows tighten more as you apologise frantically.

- not to mention the way you unintentionally stick the tip of your tongue out as you focus on taking care of him is so goddamn adorable. he would tease you with a kiss if not for the fractures in his bones.

- your cool fingertips on his skin makes his entire body tingle. thank god he doesn't have a monitor showing how fast his heart is beating right now.

sanji

when you hug him from behind his back.

- his favourite love language is definitely physical touch...

- when you catch him off guard when he's busy cooking for the crew, he feels like he just ascended to heaven.

- the way your arms rest so perfectly around his waist, the way your face is buried in his back, the way that you smile at him when he turns his head around...

- it just feels so domestic! it's like everything he's fantasized about when he was younger, with him cooking on a casual friday afternoon, with the love of his life behind him saying something like "mmm, love, that smells so good..."

- this is all he's ever wanted. him doing his favourite thing (cooking), with his favourite person (you), in his favourite place (the thousand sunny).

- it makes him think of a future with you in it.

- he bites his tongue to hold himself back from saying "let's get married right now."

#one piece x reader #law x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #sanji x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #sabo x reader #revolutionary sabo #one piece fluff

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whaddayadothatfor · 1 year

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Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

#marvel x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #marvel smut #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac smut #y/n

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fictioninmyblood · 6 months

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I Meant That Shit

Summary: N’Jadaka gets tired of waiting for Y/N to forgive him and come home, so he decides to let Killmonger bring her back, kicking and screaming if necessary.

Warnings: 18+, noncon/con, smut, D/s themes, Entitled and pissed Erik being devious. Shouldthere be a warning for angst?

A/N: This was supposed to be short, but here we are. Enjoy my sexually starved thoughts.

A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

After his reluctant rehabilitation, there weren't many things that brought out his killer instinct anymore. However, it seemed that lately, despite all the sparring, therapy, and meditation sessions, Erik couldn’t shake the urge to knock some sense into his girl Y/N.

A few weeks prior when she told him she needed space and couldn’t stay in Wakanda and ignore her life anymore, he said some things. She took it the wrong way and told him they were over, as if.

When she first left, Erik was sure she’d break down and FaceTime him or use the kimoyo beads he taught her to use. She was always more vocal about missing him, so he just assumed she’d break down and restart their communication. Imagine his surprise when a whole two weeks rolled by without so much as a text, call, or video chat. He was desperate for anything from her, even a verbal lashing, but by the time a month came and went, he felt like a fiend going through withdrawal.

During week six, his excitement to finally lay his eyes on Y/N was quickly cut short when he realized she was still talking to his family even though he had been getting the silent treatment. That displeasing information lit him like a powder keg when he saw another man in Y/N’s background, getting dressed no less. T’Challa dragged him from Shuri’s lab ready to bust a gasket when his babygirl asked Shuri to go into a different room and his little cousin actually listened! His whole family was against him again it would seem.

When T’Challa got him back to his room, all he did was pace. It was ten full minutes of the king warily watching his cousin stew when M’Baku walked right into the line of fire as Erik turned to beat the shit out of his cousin. T’Challa easily dodged the current threat on his life as the giant grabbed Erik’s hands in one of his, quickly disarming him and making the pouting man even more enraged.

“You all have been talking to her this whole time?” N’Jadaka roared.

“Just Shuri and I. She made us promise to let you figure it out for yourself, but you’ve been failing miserably cousin! Absolutely clueless!” T’Challa replied.

Erik struggled against M’Baku’s vice grip to no avail.

“No shit Sherlock. I’m gonna whoop yawls asses. M’Baku let me go.”

“Not until you promise to have a conversation with your mouth instead of your hands. I am not prepared to get involved in another war between you two.”

Erik took a few deep breaths. “Fine, I’m good.”

Once M’Baku was sure there would be no immediate violence he let go.

“You better start explaining real fucking soon T,” Erik spat, pointing an accusatory finger at T’Challa.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N is struggling to accept that you actually want her around long term!” T’Challa word-vomited.

If the prince wasn’t already enraged, the king and tribal chief would’ve laid out in hysterics at how N’Jadaka’s face screwed up. “How sway! How?!”

“From what Shuri has explained and I’ve gathered in my eavesdropping is that she thinks you only want to claim her without actually growing with her. Everything is on your terms, your way, in your time. She’s been far more patient than most would be with you so I can’t say she’s wrong.”

Erik jumped at T’Challa, scaring him and the big gorilla chief. “I oughta beat you up for keeping your mouth shut.”

“She and Shuri threatened me within an inch of my life and they scare me more than you. Besides, according to them, you can’t keep relying on us to figure out what’s going on in your relationship and I couldn’t find a valid disagreement.”

Erik nearly did slap T’Challa at the last sentiment.

“Aye aye!” M’Baku shouted, getting between the two yet again, “He is being truthful now. That counts eh? And if I may interject, I think you’re aiming your anger at the wrong person.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Erik said, deflating under the weight of that truth, “but his ass still bout to pay me back and I know just how.”

————-

A few hours later…

“You know, when I told you that you could pay me back with The Royal Talon Fighter, I didn’t expect you to tag along.”

“Who else was going to keep an eye on our Wakandan technology or keep you from murdering anyone in the vicinity of Y/N, especially any man?”

Erik rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess.”

“Or Y/N from killing you for just showing up jealous despite being radio silent since long before she left Wakanda.”

“Alright alright! You made your point. Damn! Just drive the fancy metal.”

—

Erik was all confidence until the second they landed in Atlanta. Yeah, Killmonger was out for blood and was ready to bring their girl back kicking and screaming if necessary, but Erik N’Jadaka Stevens? He was a nervous fucking wreck.

T’Challa and M’Baku’s words really struck a nerve and he had nothing but time to stew over them on the ride to your family’s hometown ranch. Before he met you, Killmonger made all the decisions, kept him alive and ahead of the game, whatever game he was surviving at the moment. He lived like that for well over a decade when he met you, but you didn’t bat an eyelash at his swift mood swings, his bloodthirst, or his possessiveness, often putting him in place. You handled him with love and care, showing him how to become the softer version of himself without sacrificing your boundaries too much. He was quickly realizing that he sometimes pushed too hard, took too much, neglected your requirements. It was your stern patience, however, that was enough to allow you to become the first person to get him the person instead of him the killer to come out and communicate, interact, and live rather than survive.

You did it for him a second time around when he came out of cryo too. He hadn’t told you anything about how he would go about his goals, opting just to disappear and execute so it was a surprise of a lifetime to wake up to your beautiful Y/E/C. After getting over his initial anger over you seeing the worst of him, you were the first person he responded to or let touch him during his recovery. Even going so far as not allowing the medical staff to redress his wounds if he was awake.

Only your touch soothed him, only your voice gave him peace. You made him less of a killing machine and more human again, made him want to address the tsunami of emotions and trauma that he lugged around. He didn’t want to jeopardize your willingness to be that for him but he recognized how you were always giving all you had just to receive an inch of progress from him. If that.

Unfortunately, all of his introspection and nervousness flew right out of the truck T’Challa had them in when he saw you walking up to your personal guesthouse with a man in tow. Killmonger immediately took the reins pushing him and his feelings down into the abyss, and leaping out of the car before T’Challa could come to a complete stop with his cousin calling after him.

“Y/N!” Killmonger shouted from the end of the long-ass driveway, rage evident in his voice.

Y/N was haphazardly trying to get her drunk cousin up the stairs while nervously dropping her keys when she heard Killmonger. She’s only encountered him a few times since meeting Erik, after the first time she brought him back to himself, he did his best to keep that part from her. It didn’t always work since any repressed feeling or issue the man had was poured into his alter ego, feeding his desire to be wild and untamed in his decision-making. So she knew he was out for blood with just the sound of her name.

She got the key in just as Killmonger got to the beginning of her walkway up to the house. As quickly as she could, she pulled her cousin in, slamming and locking the door in her partner’s face, leaving the beast to bang on her door and demand entrance.

“I’m not dealing with your bulldozing tactics Kill! You can come back when Erik is ready to face his fucking feelings and have an adult conversation!”

“If you know what’s good for you and that nigga in there, you better open this ghatdamn door Y/N!” He roared in response.

Y/N’s cousin couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how much she waved him off. Getting trashed 3 nights in a row after a bad breakup and crashing with his favorite cousin after hearing how she was hiding from both the world and the love of her life as well didn’t prepare him for seeing her so out of character. One second she was fleeing from the man, the next she was big and bad from behind a locked door in all her 5’5” glory. It was comical as hell to him.

“You know you look constipated when you cuss? Like that stick in your ass is fighting every syllable.” He said, immediately dying in another fit of laughter at his analogy.

“Who the fuck is that in there with you, Y/N, and don’t fucking lie!”

“The next man. Nice to meet you. You must be the ex.” her cousin shouted out in a drunken slur to Y/N’s horror.

Yeah, she knew she wasn’t in the wrong, and there was no reason to defend herself against this man, but she knew not to press certain buttons once Kill made an appearance. Her cousin, unfortunately, had no discernment to see that he had just pressed the biggest red button Kill had when it came to her.

Y/N watched the myriad of emotions that crossed Erik’s face through the peephole, praying to every ancestor and display of the creator she could think of that this man wasn’t going to go full psycho-killer on them both. The last thing she needed was him taking several steps back in his healing just to unnecessarily add another scar, maybe 2 with how pissed he looked.

Y/N turned back to her cousin, ready to kill him for putting her in even hotter water, only to find that nigga was sleep, leaving Y/N to deal with the consequences on her own.

As soon as she had that thought her ears piqued, taking in how silent it had gotten. All she could hear was the crunch of gravel as T’Challa finally pulled in and got out. When she peeked outside the peephole again, she was met with a confused T’Challa looking for Erik.

A chill ran up her spine and her blood ran cold as she slowly turned to her current worst fear; Killmonger pissed as hell, staring her down with a knife to her cousin’s throat.

“Give me one good reason not to paint your brand new carpet with this nigga’s blood Y/F/N then fuck you on the new color.”

Putting her hands up in a placating manner, Y/N slowly inched towards Kill, stopping when he dug the knife just slightly deeper, exposing a thin line of blood, as her cousin slept unawares.

Donning a submissive voice as if she was talking to a wild animal, “Erik, baby calm down.”

“Don’t baby calm down me! You out here giving other niggas what’s mine? Mine Y/N!”

“That’s not–”

“Don’t tell me that’s not what’s going on when you’ve been M.I.Fucking.A. for weeks! And the first thing I see both on video chat and in person is you with some random?! I’ll murder every nigga to ever touch you, keep tryna play me.”

“Nobody’s playing you Daka, look closer, you know him. I promise I haven’t been stepping out on you.” Y/N continued on, internally rolling her eyes at the toddler temper tantrum she had to placate this nigga out of. “My stupidly in love, trying to escape his own heartache, and loves drama when drunk cousin that you have met several times was just egging you on.”

Kill looked closer to the man’s face and released the filter of rage clouding his judgment, upon closer inspection he realized they’d met at several of the many family gatherings he’d attended with Y/N/N. Slowly easing the knife from her cousin’s throat, Erik struggled to fight back tears at his behavior. He was proving he wasn’t good enough for her, he hadn’t actually changed all that much. Kill took the reins once again, unwilling to let him process his feelings of abandonment and betrayal just yet. Rushing towards Y/N, he laid the knife flat on the side of her face, taking up residence on the other side.

Biting a huge hickey along her jawline, before grasping her earlobe in between his teeth, Killmonger growled, “So if you ain’t been fucking him, who you been fucking?”

Although Y/N knew she logically had nothing to feel guilty about, how he was questioning her made her want to lie down and worship him as an apology regardless. She took a deep breath to center herself, understanding that any sign of nervousness would be taken as an omission of guilt.

Y/N ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulder blades to hold his face in her palms. He reluctantly released her earlobe to allow her to face him, naturally allowing the blade to rest against her neck ever so gently.

“N’Jadaka. Erik, baby? Look at me, I have been trying to live without you miserably for the last few weeks. I’ve only been going out since Y/C/N got here and I have to beg for breaks because I’m basically his chaperone. You believe me don’t you?”

Erik looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. He dropped the knife and held her throat in his hands, squeezing just tight enough to hint to either pleasure or pain, pushing her against the front door.

“Ion know. Why should I?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N took a chance and palmed his face, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Cause you know that no matter how much you stress me out, isolate yourself from me, or threaten anyone who seems to have more access to me than you, that I love your crazy ass.”

Erik squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt her but enough to reassert his dominance. Y/N put a hand over his, doing her best to ground herself in the feeling of his hands rather than how much she wanted to cum from the pressure of them.”

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked out, “I love every version of you, no matter how threatening any of them may be and I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you?”

“Nah, princess, the other part.”

“No matter how threatening-” she started, but was cut off by the growl emanating from Erik’s chest and the pulsing release and pressure of him allowing her small gasps of air. “You know what I mean Y/N, don’t test me lil mama.”

Erik held his squeeze on her neck, tilting it ever so slightly to lick the side of her face and hold her earlobe between his teeth, tugging.

Y/N couldn’t hold back the guttural moan if she tried. Just barely keeping her eyes from rolling back and donning her sweetest sub voice, she said, “I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me big daddy. It literally makes me nauseous.”

Erik released her ear with a wet snap against her face, “It does?”

Y/N hummed and nodded her head as best she could in her current predicament.

Killmonger covered the forgiving face Erik started to make, replacing it with one of his stern, unyielding looks. “Then why you leave me and give me the silent treatment for weeks?”

Y/N whined at the tightening of his hands, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure only he could illicit lighting her body on fire.

Erik bit her bottom lip roughly, nearly drawing blood. “That’s not an answer.”

Losing the battle against her libido and subspace, Y/N whined again.

In a faux sweet voice Erik said, “Awww, is little mama already too far gone in her head thinking about all the ways imma mark you.”

Y/N nodded again, lost in the many images she’d acquired from her sexual experiences with Erik and Kill over the years.

“Good.” And with those words, Y/N was suddenly looking at Erik’s ass and the floor as he stomped upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He tossed her on the bed and roughly stripped her of her clothes, halter top first, bottoms and panties all in one fell swoop last, leaving her heels on.

He positioned her over his knee and popped her cheeks until her bottom was flushed with his favorite shade of reddish purple and warmed his hands with the heat she emanated.

By the time he was done, Y/N wanted to be a ball of tears, but could only sniffle, her voice too shy to make an appearance when Kill took the reins of their scenes like this for fear of upsetting him further.

Erik used his knee to spread her legs open far enough to see her flower drenching her thighs in her nectar for him. He took two fingers to swipe some of it onto them for him to put in his mouth and savor, groaning at how much sweeter she seemed to have gotten since last he held her.

He laid her onto the bed and got up to undress himself, slapping her already sore ass when she didn’t move a muscle.

“You know what’s up. Face down, ass up lil mama.”

Y/N groaned but slowly inched her way into position. Already feeling like jello, she barely put an arch in her back, struggling not to lay back down and pass out.

Killmonger was not happy with that. After he’d removed everything except his grills and chain he let both his palms come down on her cheeks simultaneously.

Sounding more animal than human, “If you don’t assume the position like you got some sense, I swear to the gods Y/N.”

She was still lethargic, but was eager to experience less of his painful assaults and more of the pleasurable ones that she knew were around the corner. It took all of her strength but she was able to inch herself into position, deepening her arch just the way he demanded with her arms by her side and her cheek resting against the comforter.

“Good girl.”

With how pliant she was to his commands and the evidence of how much she trusted and wanted him dripping down her thighs, it took all of his restraint not to plunge himself into her until he felt her cervix try to push him back out.

Y/N smiled faintly at the praise, humming and wiggling her ass in response.

Killmonger grasped her wrists as he knelt to get up close and personal with his pussy. He spread her lips so he could get an eyeful of her throbbing clit and blew on it, eliciting a guttural moan from Y/N, before replacing his hand back on her wrist.

“Just you wait mamas, you gonna be screaming and crying by the time I’m done with you.”

He licked her juices on both thighs, leaving hickies all over them both before he finally put his whole face in her pussy and ate. If it wasn’t for the grasp he had on her wrists, she would have collapsed immediately.

Erik was a good kisser in general, but Killmonger was a master at french kissing, especially her pussy, until she was questioning whether or not she still wanted the pleasure. Those deep soul sucking kisses always made her question her sanity.

He slurped up and suctioned her clit into his mouth like that’s where it belonged, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she came with a silent scream, without ever releasing her tiny bud. Then he released it with a pop only to hold her lips open and spit directly onto her hole, watching his saliva drip down onto her clit. He flattened his tongue and licked like the dog he could be until she was a whining, moaning mess, tears streaming down her face just as promised.

Once the first sound hit his ears, she couldn’t stop the noises he was pulling from her if she was mute, let alone at the mercy of his insatiable thirst for her most animalistic responses.

Kill continued his assault with his tongue, moving through her folds in a rhythm only he knew. After he’d gotten two more orgasms from her that way, Y/N alternating between screaming and crying, he latched his plush lips back around her clit, assaulting the sensitive bundle of nerves, and plunged his two most trustworthy fingers into her, immediately finding her gspot and caressing it with an incessant ‘come hither’ motion until she was squirting and creaming uncontrollably. Not willing to let go just yet he dragged it out for what seemed like forever since she briefly lost consciousness and came to, lips still parted in the O of her silent screams, with his mouth still eagerly slurping up the waterfall his fingers were responsible for. All Y/N could do was turn her head the other way to watch what she could see of him, whining and moaning.

When she could barely release any more spurts he released her, licking his hand, fingers, and forearm clean as he slowly stroked his hard as steel member.

In the great deep of her sex haze, Y/N mumbled, “He brought dick too? How are we gonna survive dick too when he almost killed us with just his mouth and fingers.”

Erik chuckled at her ramblings, proud that he was, as usual, responsible for her senseless words.

When his precum made an appearance, he swiped it up with his thumb and rubbed it into her pussy, almost immediately replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick. Wanting to savor this moment of finally being able to reconnect with his pussy, he played with her, just like that. Rubbing the tip of his dick in both of their juices, up and down her pussy lips, circling her clit, and coming to apply just enough pressure to her desperately clenching hole, only to rinse and repeat. On and on he went, teasing them both until his quietly whimpering babygirl was back to guttural whines.

He knew she was right where he wanted her mentally when she started begging.

“Please big daddy, I’m so sorry. Please baba E, please baba, please. Please please please please please pleaaaaaasssssseeeeee.”

When he was good and ready, he pulled her up by her throat until she was flush against him, licked her tears from her cheek, and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t do that disappearing and silent treatment shit ever again Y/N. You hear me?”

Y/N nodded and blinked at him with a puppy eyed look that damn near melted the ice caps of his attitude, but he was quick to remind her who’s big daddy in their relationship.

“When I told you, you were mine, I meant that shit mama.”

“Yes, baba,” Y/N squeaked out.

He tongued her down with one of his sloppy french kisses and as soon as he felt her body relax in his hold, he did exactly what his body had been begging for since the second he saw her. He pushed himself into her until he felt the tip of her cervix try to push him all the way back out, savoring the fucked out look she wore as her body spasmed with the unexpected orgasm, he held them there letting her ride it out.

In this moment he was grateful for the years of curated discipline since the way her pussy clamped onto him almost triggered his own mind numbing orgasm. Although he successfully staved off his nut, he couldn’t stop the way all of his fight was knocked right out of him. Finally rid of the aggression that his Killmonger personality oozed, Erik was able to finally take in his queen, his Y/N, in all her sex hazed glory.

When she finally came down from her high he started moving, giving her slow and deep strokes as he showered her face and neck with kisses, hoping his attempt at lovemaking showed her just how priceless she was to him, how desperate he’d been without her.

Kiss, “I’m sorry too mamas,” kiss “I know how much you love me and I don't understand why,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “insist,” kiss, “on pouring all of the best parts of yourself into me.” He couldn’t help but shed a tear at the relief he felt, having her in his arms again. “I promise to do better,” kiss, “to listen and pay attention more,” kiss, “to treat you like the empress you are,” kiss, “just say you’ll come home with me,” kiss, “promise you’ll take your rightful place by my side mamas,” kiss, “claim your right as my queen.”

Y/N was a moaning, whining mess, barely holding onto consciousness and shedding her favorite kind of tears, just as promised.

Erik tucked his face into her neck, struggling to keep himself from cumming too soon since her pussy was gripping him like a boa constrictor, indicating that yet another orgasm wasn’t too far.

He held himself in the deepest parts of her and put a little whine in his hips. “Please mama, come home with me.”

Just when he thought he could hold out no longer she arched into him and screamed yes over and over, overwhelmed with her orgasm, and squirted all over them both. Erik came in her almost at the exact same time, his orgasm nearly knocking him out with how it overcame him from head to toe. Both of them slumped into the bed.

—

By the time he finally started to get up, her screams had quieted back to whimpers.

Erik slowly and gently removed her heels from her feet, massaging the soles with just the right amount of pressure.

He cleaned both of them with a warm washcloth and ran the tub, placing some bubble bath soap, epsom salt, essential oils, and dried rose petals in the water. Wanting to balance out the intrusive way he barged back into her life, he lit some candles and incense as well, and placed his favorite body oil of hers on the counter.

When he came back to get her in the tub, she was silently staring into space in the same place and position he left her. After he got her to turn over and sit up, he scooped her into his arms bridal and brought her to the tub, gently placing her into the suds.

Once he saw her relax he went back to the bedroom to strip and change the sheets, wanting their transition back into the room to be seamless. When he came back into the bathroom her head was leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her face, alarming him to the fact that although he’d won the battle, he was still losing the war with treating his girl with the care she really was looking for from him.

Choking up himself, he kneeled next the tub and leaned over her face, kissing the droplets left behind.

“I’m so sorry mamas. You know that right?” His voice cracked at the end.

Although she started nodding yes, she ended up shaking her head no.

“Can you open your eyes for me please?”

Y/N shook her head no again.

“Pretty please?”

Again she shook her head no. She was too scared to look him in his eyes, anytime he touched her or they made eye contact she folded to his desires and needs, abandoning her own.

A little defeated, but determined to win all of her back, not just her body, Erik switched tactics.

“May I get into the tub with you and hold you?”

Y/N hesitated a few moments before she nodded yes. As soon as she heard the rustle of him standing back up she scooted forward allowing him to sit behind her.

Once he was seated, Erik gently pulled her into him, urging her body to use him as she did the edge of the tub. The moment she relaxed in his embrace, head lolling slightly to the left, he started kissing up and down her neck from where her ear met her face to her collarbone.

When he felt enough time had passed, he tried to get her to open up to him again.

“Lil mama?”

Y/N hummed.

“Tell me what’s on your mind please, I promise to listen.”

Y/N held up her pinky and asked, “Pinky promise?”

Erik locked his pinky with hers and brought her hand to his lips, softly talking against it, “Pinky Promise.”

She pulled her hand away, putting it back in her lap to join the other one, under the water.

Taking a deep breath she started.

“Am I a toy to be played with Daka?” Erik was ready to answer but kept silent, knowing she needed to get all of her thoughts out before he interrupted her. “To be taken out of storage to be used and then tossed aside when you’re not getting the desired result anymore?”

Rubbing the sides of her thighs and suddenly very scared, he said, “ no mamas.”

“Then why do you get to demand time and attention and energy from me, but when I ask for a sliver of honest communication, the smallest amount of all three resources you have to offer me, you shut me out? Why is it only okay for you to communicate what’s going on with you and us when you feel like it, when it's convenient? Why do I always have to beg for you to lean on me, to use me softly? Why do I have to beg you to let me hold you. Why don’t you ever just ask? Why do I have to grovel at your feet to be held by you? Why is the only time you make love to me when you’re trying to win me back? Why?”

By the end of her list, Y/N was sobbing. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and tucked his chin in the curve of her neck and let a few tears drop himself before he answered.

“I don’t know mamas. I guess…,” he wiped the tears from his face and gulped down the rising tsunami of emotion that she so easily created with just a few sentences before he wrapped his arm back around her, “...I guess I’m just terrified.”

“Of what baby? Haven’t I been here? Haven’t I done the best to support you with all that I am, to remain honest with you and show you that I am loyal to our future?”

He kissed her shoulder and said, “you have. I just-”

Y/N pulled out of his arms to finally look him in the eye, “You just what? Aren’t my efforts to build a life with you enough?”

Erik palmed her face and gave her a deep kiss, hoping to transfer all of his emotion into it.

He put his forehead against hers and said, “I’m just so fucking terrified of losing you. To have the warmth of your love snatched away at a moment's notice. I’m terrified in a way I haven’t been in so fucking long that I just convince myself that its better to pull away and show you how unworthy I am of the full magnitude of your love.”

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, grateful she was finally looking him in the eyes again. “But this time of separation showed me I am nothing without you, just a hollow shell, no love to warm my soul and bones. Even the care and concern of my family isn’t enough to fill the abyss that’s created in your absence.”

Y/N swiped away the stray tears from his face, “that’s-”

“I know. Super intense.”

“Yes. But I was gonna say a relief to hear. You never really give me any verbal confirmation that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you unless I say I love you first.”

“I know mamas, but I promise to do better, be better, for you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “No Baba. For you. You need to talk your feelings out loud so you can hear it too. You need to know that the only reason you’re able to love me so deeply is because you love yourself that deep, if not deeper, first. Understand?”

Erik smirked, yet again grateful that he had such a wise and loving partner who always held up the pieces of mirror he’d sworn he’d broken to pieces.

“Yea lil mama, I understand.”

“Good…,” Y/N kissed him again, deepening the kiss but teasing him slightly with how lightly she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, she almost regretted bursting his bubble. “...cause I’m not going back with you until I’m ready.”

Erik’s face instantly fixed itself into a scowl. “But-”

Y/N held a finger to his lips. “I said when I’m ready, not never. I came home to get back to taking care of me, love me, and understanding what my needs are.”

His pout deepened.

“And I learned that I need to stop jumping when you say jump. So I go back when I feel that I’m ready, not because you showed up and demanded it of me. Okay?”

He was a little deflated, but still holding onto the hope of her eventually coming back with him.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until you’re ready.”

“But-.”

It was Erik’s turn to hush her with a finger. “I already know what you’re going to say and my duties will be waiting for me when we go back together. Now that you’re back in my arms I’m in no hurry to lose the privilege again.”

“You’re not!”

“You’re right, cause I’m staying.”

All Y/N could do was chuckle, understanding that she’d lost this battle and relishing in the fact that she won the war. It seemed he was finally starting to understand what she needed because although she was indeed going to complain about him having responsibilities to return to, she really did need him to stay. That abyss he had was mirrored in her heart and only time with him would close it back up.

Both satisfied that they worked through the root issue, they went back to enjoying the bath, Y/N comfortably resting her head against Erik.

When they were all pruney and the water was verging on cold, Erik stood them up to drain the tub and turned on the shower to rinse them both. After he dried them both, he quickly lotioned his body with shea butter, grabbed the body oil and guided Y/N hand in hand, back into the bedroom.

He laid her on her back first to moisturize and massage her front, kneading out all of the tension she held. When he was working his way back up from her feet, he couldn’t help but get stuck between her thighs, using his thumbs to massage circles up them until he reached her pussy again.

Y/N slightly parted her legs, letting one bend and fall open for easy access. He immediately used one hand to part her lips so he could see her clit clearly.

Erik leaned down to softly kiss her clit a few times before he pulled away and used the thumb on his other hand to rub slow circles. He admired her form as he brought her to orgasm leisurely.

He went back to massaging her thighs until she returned from the heights of her pleasure.

His voice was more gruff than he wanted when he told her, “turn over.”

She easily compiled and continued his massage, paying extra attention to her sore ass.

When Y/N was 2 more seconds away from sleep and he was satisfied with his work he urged her under the covers and joined her. She tried to grab his hardened member to return the favor but he grabbed up her hands, kissing them to soften the blow.

“No, I needed to show you how softly I can treat you, I don’t need to cum right now. Sleep.”

Y/N pouted and whined, wanting to feel him connected to her again.

She lifted her leg over his as they faced each other and inched as close as she could with her hands in his, feeling his dick graze her pussy lips.

Putting a little more base in his voice, “Ay! What I just say lil mama?”

She whined out, “I don’t care, I just need to feel you in me Baba.”

Erik grunted.

Y/N donned her best puppy dog pout and begged with her words and body, wiggling in his hold and being able to feel the lightest brush of his hot skin. “Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee?”

“Fine, but careful what you asked for…” he said, sheathing himself in one stroke and stilled her hips before she could start moving. “...you just might get it.”

He released her hands and tongued her down, palming her face.

“Sleep Y/N.”

“But,” she said, her face scrunching in confusion.

“You can keep me warm, but that’s it for now, okay?”

She started to whine again but was cut short when he wrapped the hand palming her face around her throat.

“Sleep mamas. You’re going to need all of your energy in the morning.”

She wasn’t necessarily happy, but she also wasn’t necessarily dissatisfied. She did get her wish after all.

“Ok.”

Y/N tucked her head under his chin and started to drift before she sleepily said, “thank you for showing me how much you care Baba E. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Erik kissed her forehead and squeezed his arms a little tighter around her.

“Thank you for letting me.”

He was answered with her cute snores and let the sound lull him into the best sleep he’d had in too long of a while.

#erik killmonger #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther fanfiction #black panther #erik stevens #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik stevens x reader #fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #erik stevens x black!reader

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sidekick-hero · 5 days

Text

On top of the world

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, prompt 'graduation' | 616 words | tags: fix it, Steve is a sweetheart and takes care of Eddie, first kiss

Before March 21st, Eddie would have said not graduating again was the worst thing that could happen to him. Now, Eddie knows better.

Nothing like almost dying to put things into perspective, right?

He misses the days when his biggest worry was convincing old witch O'Donnell to give him a "D" and let him leave Hawkins High. Now that he knows what a real hellhole looks like, he thinks he could survive another year under Higgins' thumb.

Still, he doesn't exactly mind when Nancy comes over to his and Wayne's new house—part of the government deal the kids cut for him while he was in a coma—to tell him that he's going to graduate with his class.

He doesn't question it either, just whoops enthusiastically enough to almost pull his stitches, which hurts but has the added bonus of Steve putting his big hands all over him to check his numerous healing wounds.

A week on the run and fighting interdimensional monsters with the guy has changed Eddie's perspective on what’s the best thing that could happen to him as well.

On graduation day, he walks across the stage with a cane for support, something he hadn’t thought possible. It was Steve who had made that happen, even if he refused to accept Eddie's praise. The moment Eddie had muttered under his breath after Nancy had left, ‘But how am I supposed to walk the fucking stage if I can't even go to the bathroom without taking a break?' Steve was a man on a mission.

They practiced every day, before or after Steve's work helping out at the hospital. They needed every helping hand they could get after the damage Vecna and the Upside Down monsters had caused. Eddie could attest to how wonderful Steve's hands were at helping. In fact, he could write songs about it once his hands stopped shaking whenever he held a pencil (or anything, really) for too long.

Eddie wondered if every one of Steve's patients was as in love with him as he was.

As Eddie snags his diploma from Higgins, who looks like he bit into a particularly bitter lemon, Eddie marvels that flipping him the bird isn’t as exhilarating as expected.

Maybe that’s because of last night and the way Steve’s lips felt on his. Every moment since then simply pales in comparison.

Steve had come over after another shift at the hospital, probably sore and exhausted, but giving Eddie one of his dazzling smiles that always made him weak in the knees. Which was kind of counterproductive, considering what they were trying to accomplish here.

They were both trying so hard but Eddie’s legs just wouldn’t cooperate. No matter what Steve tried, they buckled after a few steps, forcing Eddie to sit down or fall down. He had made progress, the muscles in his legs slowly coming back, but three weeks had been too short.

Or so he thought.

Eddie doesn’t know how or why, but this time, Steve had simply positioned himself as far away from Eddie as possible and spread his arms as wide as his smile. “I got you, Eds. I’ll never let you fall. If you can’t trust in yourself just yet, trust in me.”

He had, believing that those strong arms would wrap around him if he stumbled.

He didn’t stumble, didn’t fall, but wrap around him they did anyway. Steve had picked him up and twirled him around, and then he’d kissed him, grinning mouth to grinning mouth.

Eddie might not have graduated top of his class, but he sure feels like he’s on top of the world when he catches Steve’s eye among the cheering group of his friends.

#steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing

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valiantroeagleangel · 4 months

Text

Noah's alphabet

Noah Sebastian x female reader

Following the Bad Omens's alphabet request with Noah, everybody's male whore. This is obviously NSFW.

Mama's tag list: @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @lma1986 @skulliecadaver-blog

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like sex unlocks a new Noah. Let's face it, we don't like it but Noah surely is emotionally constipated. He won't talk about his feelings or about too many deep things, especially at the beginning of the relationship. But after sex you know, maybe he feels closer to you because of the intimacy but he would open up to you a little. You may have deeper conversations as he holds you in his arms, staring at the ceiling.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

This is a boob man come on. He is more boyish than Jolly you know. When I was telling you that Jolly enjoyed a nice cleavage, yes he does but in a mature way. I feel like Noah is still silly enough to just go "OMG BOOBS YAY!!!"

And on him, I feel like he came to a situation where he is able to enjoy how big his hands are, especially compared to yours. Let's be honest even if you are gigantic the chances of you being taller than him are very low. And he enjoys how big you're making him feel and the hands are the best way to compare.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Will cum in his pants while eating you out.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Same as the Ruffilo's one. They jerked off together once (if not more). They really were too suspicious and I like it, ok?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is he experienced? I don't know I don't have the same vibe that I had with Jolly. We all wish he was because it's better for the plot buuuuuut you know... :///

He must be, a little at least but not that much? He tries tho, he tries his best but your first times were maybe like-

"here?"

"no not here noah."

"okay here maybe?"

"still not..."

"uuuggghhh?!"

"alright I'll show you. HERE."

"oooooooh."

And this dude discovered a new world, now he is able to know what he is doing. But he wasn't before.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary with him holding your hands above your head. He is hovering over you, both of your wrists in his hand, pinned over your head and he just slowly thrusts into you, watching your reactions. He likes how it makes him feel in charge.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ain't no way this dude is cracking jokes during the deed. He is on a mission, he is not going to try and be humorous. I'm not saying that he is taking it like WE ARE HAVING SEX, SEX IS DONE, BACK TO NORMAL PERSONALITY serious kind of type, but he is not goofy either.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Oh he trims it for sure, he is taking care of the carpet. It's not fully trimmed okay but he spends time cutting it for it to be nice and clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Back to this dude not dealing with his emotions, he gotta let them out at some point. I'm pretty sure he can be very very intimate. Once again especially at the beginning of your relationship. But yeah that dude is romantic, that dude is worshipping you, he loves you and he tries to let you know it during sex because if he doesn't he is going to burst into flames with all of these emotions he can feel.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I really have issues with this headcanon every time because I always want to say FUCKING YES I LOVE IT QUEEN GO MASTURBATE. But for this one, yeah he does it okay, but not really how I wish he did. Definitely does it in the shower tho. A hand against the tiles and he just whoop whoop the meat.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Submission kink, he likes to see you at his mercy. Not in a violent way but more to know that yes you're drooling and crying on the mattress because of him and that he is the only one who can pleasure you. That you are on your knees for him, and only him. Once he gets to know your body he is going to use it to his advantage.

And I think he has a praise kink, oh fuck me he does. He likes to hear you say how good he is, how good he is making you feel and how you can't deal with the pleasure because of him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Love the idea of him taking you in the kitchen. Why? I don't know but him taking you on the counter or on the dinner table. Love it. Besides that, bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Oh you're walking around the house wearing his t-shirt and his shorts? You're good for one. Noah needs to feel loved I think, to feel like he matters to you, he belongs to you, that you won't abandon him so whenever there is something that makes him feel like that he just gets a little too excited-

Back to how to deal with his feelings. He doesn't know how so -> sex.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Honestly, I know I wrote threesomes with him but let's be real this is not accurate. He won't do threesomes. Once again he wants to feel loved not to feel like you desire someone more than him. And he is not going to fight for your affection in this case. If he feels like you want someone else he will just go "alright she doesn't love me anymore. I've been fucked again." SO NO SHARING, SORRY LADIES.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh come on that one is an easy one. We all agreed that Noah was a proud munch, there is no debate anymore. He will eat you slow and nice or either suck the soul out of you, there is no in-between. But when that dude eats? HE EATS. He will eat and make you come until he is satisfied.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I love the idea of slow and sensual sex. Like slow sex in the morning, you both just wake up and he is just ready to go you know? He'll fuck you nicely and tenderly. Missionary it's him looking at you, very calculated thrust so he can admire how you close your eyes and how you moan.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He does them. First of all because of his tight schedule and maybe yours but also because-

AAHH he is so frustrated and doesn't know how to deal with it? Boom quickie. He just finds you very hot when you're cooking? Boom quickie. Quickie, quickie, quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

That dude won't take too much risk. No public sex, no semi-public sex, no PDA, nothing. He doesn't want ANYONE to stiff his nose in his private life so he won't take risks.

That aside he is not again some experimenting.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I'm sure he has a great stamina. He has lungs, he's athletic now, pushing to the gym. That dude is doing multiple rounds, maybe with some small breaks in between but he is doing it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They went from 😠enemies😠 to 🌈friends🌈 in his eyes. At first, he was not for it, he didn't know how to use it and didn't understand why. He was like "what do you want a toy when you can have me???". But the more you guys grew together, the more you tried things and the more he accepted them and enjoyed them. They didn't replace him so he is happy with it.

And for himself I don't think he really uses them that much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

That dude is a fucking bitch. I'm sorry but he is teasing you, he is enjoying seeing you ignite yourself because of him. He is truly unfair and it pampers his ego.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

That dude is loud and in a messy way. He moans, he groans, he talks, he lose himself in the deed. He'll keep telling you how good you feels and how tight you are.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a thing for mini skirts, panties with ribbons and high socks.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

LONG. Necessarily not massive or heavy but LONG.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think his sex drive is really random. It can be a week of random quickies or like more intimate sex multiple times a week. Often it's a mix of both but it depends on the schedule you know.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Either fall asleep immediately or won't be able to sleep because you guys talked for hours and now he is overthinking about why he overshared like that. What if you don't like him in the morning because he said too much? (it won't happen but this dude is a little psychotic.)

#noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut #headcanons #random thoughts #alphabet

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ztarvokwrites · 9 months

Text

doffy & croc - witnessing their s/o almost die

author's note; slowly getting back in my groove!! again posts will be slow so uhhh yeah! i missed writing these two tbh 🫶🏻 this has been briefly proof-read!

reader is nb (they/them)!

trigger warnings; death, you almost die whoops!, angry doffy, angry croc, very slight gore mention, angst, comfort??

word count; 1,597

»»————-　★　————-««

Donquixote Doflamingo - the former King of Dressrosa and feared former Warlord of the Sea. Nobody expected him to be beaten by Monkey D Luffy and Trafalgar Law, yet he was. You and a few others who hid from the Marines were lucky enough to escape, yet your heart hurt immensely once you saw your beloved Doflamingo be taken to custody by the Marines.

"Y/N, we have to go!" Called one of Doflamingo's family members. You looked back at them, worry written all over your face.

"But, Doffy-"

"Y/N, it's too late now... Come on, let's go!"

After you escaped, you wondered if your lover was still alive. It had been quite a few months now and you still had no clue. That was, until somebody placed a hand on your shoulder.

"My dear Y/N," Spoke the familiar voice. Your breath hitched. "Did you forget about me, hm?" You turned around in an instant and grinned, looking up at the man you've missed with all your heart.

"DOFFY! How did you escape Impel Down?!" You exclaimed as he picked you up effortlessly in his arms. Doflamingo just laughed, kissing you sweetly on your neck and drawing a soft hum from your lips.

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be, Y/N~" He cooed before finally kissing you on the lips, clearing your mind of any thought you might've had about his strange statement. It was calm after that day—the both of you effortlessly hiding and running away from Marines and beginning to build up another Donquixote Family Crew. However, most good things must come to an end...

The battle between the Marines and your crew raged on, you shot and slashed at any Marine that dared to stand in your path. Your head turned to look at Doflamingo for a moment, a smile on your face as you watched your beloved coldly slaughter each Marine that tried to attack him.

As you turned, however, a sharp pain entered your abdomen. You loudly gasped, eyes widening as you looked down - a sword plunged deep into your body and coming out the other end. You looked the Marine dead in the eyes as he took out his sword and slashed you again, the sharp blade piercing your skin and plunging deep into your stomach. The Marine slashed again and again and again until finally, he stopped, letting you splutter and cough out blood, your legs getting weaker and weaker by the second.

Doflamingo turned upon hearing you splutter and cough, his grin faltering as he watched the blood spurt out of your mouth and wounds before you fell to the ground, seemingly in slow motion. He watched with a straight face as you began to choke, your eyes struggling to stay open as you looked up at your lover. You didn't say a thing as your body twitched, wanting to move but being too weak to do so. Doflamingo's veins bulged out of his skin in silent anger as your body stopped moving, the light in your eyes dimming with each second that passed. He wouldn't let this slide - he couldn't. In a flash, he was in front of the Marine that killed you, slicing and dicing him without mercy until he was a vile, bloody mesh on the ground before him. More Marines began to attack him, but he stood his ground; mercilessly killing them all while standing by your unconscious body, seemingly protecting you from further harm.

"DOFFY! THE SHIP'S READY!" Yelled one of the crew members. Doflamingo ignored them, instead opting to kill every single Marine that was there until no more arrived. He softly panted, his rage still boiling inside of him as he scanned the area. Once he determined that no more Marines were there - or alive - he took your body into his arms and walked with you to the ship. Immediately, the ships' doctors ran over and placed you on a bed and began to treat you all the while Doflamingo is watching them like a hawk.

"...If they die," Doflamingo began, his eyes glaring daggers at the doctors in the room, a bulge of a vein in her forehead. "Then you're all dying with them. Don't you dare mess this up." Fear struck the hearts of everyone in the room as they swiftly complied to his demands, working effortlessly to stitch your wounds and save your life. You didn't wake up for a while after that—your body needed a lot of time to recover, after all. And, it was a miracle when you did.

Doflamingo stayed by your bedside the entire time; holding your hand and even eating next to you as you healed up. He hated seeing you in that medical bed—it reminded him of his mother when she was sick and the memory made his blood run cold with pure rage. But, when he saw your hand twitch, he snapped out of his thoughts and grabbed your smaller hand in his, the eyes behind his shades watching over you intensely. You didn't make a noise, nor did you move your body any more than a twitch, but Doflamingo took that as a first sign of you waking up.

It was like a switch, the way the man sat down beside where you laid, his larger hand clasped around yours as he silently pleaded for you to wake up. And when you did—oh boy, when you opened your eyes and looked around before your gaze landed on his—he was ecstatic beyond words. His large, somewhat uncomfortable grin that you adored had returned to his features, his hand tightening around yours as you uttered your first words in what felt like years;

"Doffy..."

»»————-　★　————-««

Ever since Crocodile escaped Impel Down, he made it his mission to find you again. After all, you were one of the few members of Baroque Works that he actually trusted, liked, and eventually dated. You were very dear to him, and he'd be damned if someone had stolen your heart away from him while he was away. But when he found you, walking in the rain with your umbrella and bag in hand, he froze, unsure of what to do. What could he do to make this less awkward? He could just walk up to you and say hello, but he feared that you didn't remember him—or you might be scared off. His closest associate, Daz Bones, took note of this sudden change in demeanour, and he was about to ask what was wrong until his own eyes landed on you. His gaze softened, a low sigh leaving his lips.

"It would be better to just go up to them and talk instead of gawking from afar." Says Daz, crossing his arms. Crocodile glowered at him, his brows furrowed as he growled at him to be quiet.

"...Croc...?" Your soft voice, filled with relief and shock, snapped him out of his intense glare and made him turn to you, his brows shooting up in awe. You remembered him, and you weren't scared. The taller man soon took you with him, where you—as well as himself and Daz Bones—took off. It was relatively peaceful...

Until it wasn't.

Outnumbered. Cornered. Separated. Afraid. The Marines had found the three of you and managed to separate you from the two men. Your Devil Fruit power was no match, but you fought anyway, hurling attack after attack at them until—

BANG!

SLICE!

One Marine had sliced your back from behind and the other shot your abdomen from the front, leaving you gasping for air and crumpling to the floor like a sack of potatoes. As the Marines were about to take you away, they were sliced into pieces. Daz had come to protect you, just as he was ordered too, but it was far too late—the state you were in left little to your survival rate, blood pouring out of your wounds as your eyes darted to the man in front of you. In silence, Daz picked you up and carried you over to Crocodile, who had made his way over after killing many other Marines. One look at you, and Crocodile was enraged.

Before the Marines could come any closer, he killed them—whether it was from strangulation, asphyxiation, or if he chopped them to pieces. They were all dead within seconds.

"Let's board our ship," Said the former Warlord, his stoic expression unreadable. "And get the hell outta here."

Hours pass, and a doctor's team have finished treating your wounds upon Crocodiles threat of murder and promise of a hefty amount of Berries. They leave the ship with the money they're given, and the two men set off with you in bed, peacefully unconscious for what the doctors predict could be a few days. Crocodile never left your side. Not even once. All his meals were brought to him as he sat at your bedside, making sure you didn't die and changing the bandages every so often.

It was well into the night when you eventually stirred awake, a soft groan leaving your lips and alerting him from his slumber. His golden eyes pierced through yours as your eyes met through the dim light of the lamp.

"...You're alive." He spoke, a hint of shock in his relieved tone of voice, his gaze softening as he leant forward and cupped your cheek with his hand. You placed your hand on his golden hook and weakly smiled.

"That I am..." You responded, your voice hoarse from being unconscious for so long. Crocodile missed your voice. He missed you.

»»————-　★　————-««

#ztarvokwrites #one piece #one piece x reader #doflamingo imagine #one piece scenario #crocodile x reader #crocodile #doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x reader

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zoohouseart · 2 years

Text

An idea of how Ed Edd n Eddy's cast may appear as adults. I wrote a bio for each one too.

Ed: Married May Kanker right out of high school, had 26 kids all named after monster movies (all of which he's VERY protective of). Spends a simple life working on tree-lifting and mine digging, bathes in gravy every night. Misses Edd and Eddy a whole, whole lot. Unfortunately doesn't see them often, since they moved further into the city while he stayed in the cul-de-sac.

Edd (Double D): Cleaned his act, got the girl, gained a master's in science and engineering, became a teacher, and yet STILL isn't happy or widely respected. Has yet to fully address his long standing anxiety of taking off his hat. Cannot let himself catch a break as he stresses daily about getting the bills paid. Wishes there was more to life than this ever-revolving door of monotony.

Eddy: Flunked out of college. Works as an errand boy for the mayor of Peach Creek and "oversees productivity". Secretly continues to feed his compulsions to scam and gamble at any chance he can get. Spends his every evening dreaming of the day where HE's the mayor, and scheming up ideas he'll never enact (unless..). Often complains that jawbreakers aren't as big as they used to be.

Nazz: Lives a bohemian life, praying someday her time to shine will glisten once more as an "influencer" but works retail in the meantime. Mooches off her fiancée Edd and tries to make up for it in emotional (and erm, well, physical) support. Is struggling with the idea that she peaked in high school, but will never admit it. Mockingly called "Double Z" by Eddy, though she doesn't mind.

Kevin: Is the mayor of Peach Creek. Won this view through pure charisma and good word as the football king of Peach Creek High and general "best at everything", but is often these days fumbling the ball on keeping the streets safe and clean. Is now friends with Eddy, or at least he likes to think so. Is sad he didn't make it into pro league, and will sulk about it when noone's looking.

Sarah: Took up the job of being a shrink (specifically in anger management), and a general town do-gooder. She's often, even if obnoxiously, asking to help others. Has really turned her life around from her loudmouthed, vicious childhood and make up for her past cruelties.. but has mostly done so just to repress her unbridled rage bubbling inside. Whatever you do, don't bring up Jimmy in front of her.

Jimmy: Sarah and Jimmy were conjoined to the hip practically forever, until the day his braces came off. Once he did, he got the call from Hollywood for his incredible acting chops, and ditched his BFF without a second thought. People often tour Peach Creek to see his hometown, much to the chagrin of everyone there. Is a real piece of work these days and could use a nice ass whooping.

Rolf: Grew to be a mighty farmer, creating a titanic cattle industry. Used his profits to buy a massive chunk of Peach Creek and turn it into "New Yergosluvia", so his old country family could live nearby. There he resides as it's king, and frequently feuds with old friend Kevin. Wears Victor's pelt in honor of his life-long servitude to a son of a shepherd (Victor passed peacefully in his sleep).

Johnny 2x4: MIA. As the Eds became more accepted, Johnny became the new misfit. One day, tragedy suddenly struck Plank in senior year of high school, and Johnny was never seen again. There's urban legends of crudely drawn faces appearing on the trees around the old cul-de-sac they grew up in. Ed swears he's seen one tree move. But that's crazy Ed for you. …Right?

May Kanker: Spends her days mostly exhausted from having to take care of 26 children, and hardly ever leaves the house. When she's not trying to drown out the kids with a cranked up TV, she's spending every other hour gossiping about occurrences across the city with her sisters.. though there's not a lot of time between that and cleaning up shit smeared on the walls.

Marie Kanker: Was expelled from Peach Creek High School for stalking Edd and threatening harm on Nazz. She now spends her days as a forum rat on doxxing related message boards, betwixt a day job of driving a garbage truck, where she mostly rides around town spying on people and scribbling down their whereabouts. She too spends all remaining hours gossiping with her sisters.

Lee Kanker: Was mid-planning on going to college and had her life all figured out to be a part of law enforcement until she was unexpectedly locked up for "illegal wood burning". She swears she was framed but has no idea who could've done it. She's usually calling her sisters, but occasionally talks with Eddy. She's not interested in him anymore; they just like to shoot the shit sometimes.

#ed edd n eddy #cartoon network #fan art #cartoon #animation

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loveharlow · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Can I request Ajax x reader (gn or female whichever you prefer) where Ajax is upset with not winning the Poe cup and seeking comfort with us. Just general fluff and feel free to add and change anything!

Also I really like your work, and keep up the great work!

YOU'LL GET US NEXT TIME

PAIRING ‧₊˚ Ajax Petropolus x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS ‧₊˚ [1.4k] After losing to his girlfriend's team during the Poe Cup, Ajax isn't his usually oblivious, cheerful self. While the win may be a victory for Ophelia Hall, putting a smile on her boyfriends face is the only victory Y/N needs.

WARNING(S) ‧₊˚ swearing, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort, Xavier is a lil bit of a d!ck but it's all for plot I swear (we aren't Xavier haters here)

A/N ‧₊˚ I hope I did this justice and I hope you like it, anon.

˗ˏˋ ajax masterlist ˎˊ˗

THE WHOOPS AND CHEERS COULD BE HEARD FROM THE CROWD AS MY TEAM AND I HUDDLED IN EACH OTHERS ARMS, THE TROPHY IN THE MIDDLE OF US. There was a bright smile on my face as we jumped up and down, even Wednesday had a small smirk.

Basking in the afterglow of our win, my eyes scanned around for my boyfriend, wanting to playfully rub the victory in his face. We were competitive in nature, so we took no offense by the other’s gloating. I spotted him in what looked like a semi-heated exchange with Xavier from where I was standing.

I pushed my way through my team and told them I’d be right back before heading over in their direction. However, before I could make it within hearing distance of their group, Ajax was shaking his head and walking off, not before giving Xavier the finger.

A frown etched its way onto my face as I watched Ajax disappear up the hill, back to the main Nevermore grounds. “Jax!” I tried once, but he was much too far away to hear me, especially over the noise.

Instead of turning around, I made my way over to Xavier instead. Pulling on his shoulder to get him to turn around. He swiftly knocked his shoulder back, brushing off my touch with a scowl on his face.

“Woah. It’s just me-”

“What do you want?” He groaned. The hell is his problem? I thought to myself. Pinching my eyebrows together, I gave him just as much attitude as he gave me. You get what you give, right?

“I want to know why my boyfriend just left.”

“Why would I know?” He shot back.

“Because he was talking to you before he went stomping off like a child.” I retorted, growing aggravated with the boy in front of me. Xavier and I were friends., but that didn’t exclude me, nor Ajax or any of his friends, from his occasional temper tantrums. He was very…moody, for lack of better phrase.

“Because he is. And I’m not his babysitter, alright? So, you wanna know what’s wrong with Ajax? Ask him your damn self.” Was all he said, more like barked, at me before he disappeared into the crowd.

Leaving me alone, arms crossed and face scrunched in anger. I let out a puff of air and followed in Ajax’s trail up to Nevermore. “Asshole…” I mumbled.

REACHING THE BOY'S DORM, I SPOTTED EUGENE IN THE HALLS. “Eugene!” I called, the short, curly-haired boy turning to meet my eyes with a bright, kiddy smile. “Is Ajax in his dorm?”

“Um, he should be. I think I saw him come in. Can’t be too sure, though.” I nodded at him with a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks.”

Continuing down the hall to where I remembered his room to be, I could hear music playing faintly and there were the shadows of footsteps pacing back and forth underneath the door frame. Standing directly in front of the door now, the music was much louder and I could hear the pacing, light thuds going from one side of the room to the other.

I knocked, moderately loud, waiting a few moments before knocking again — this time harder.

“I’m busy!” A voice called back. Ajax’s voice. I rolled my eyes and knocked again — longer this time, and much harder. “I said I’m busy!”

I let out a deep breath and groaned, throwing my head back. “Ajax, it’s me! Open the door!” I called as loud as I could, not worrying much to disturb the rest of the dorm considering most of them were outside still congratulating the winning team, my team.

Suddenly, the music was being turned down and the thudding footsteps were longer going side to side and instead, straight for the door. It was seconds before the knob was turning and the door was swinging open, quite aggressively might I add. No words were exchanged, just looks.

Ajax raised an impatient brow at me, a silent question of what I wanted or what I was doing here. I scoffed before rolling my eyes and dipping under his arm that was outstretched across the doorway to enter his room. I could hear him sigh behind me before the door shut.

I look around, as if I had never been in here, before turning back to face him and plopping on the bed — still adorned in my skin-tight catsuit and makeup that was still partially there.

Ajax stood in his original place by the door, the music still playing but at a reasonable volume this time. His arms were crossed as he looked at me — joker make-up long gone off of his face but he still had on the rest of his ensemble.

I simply crossed one leg over the other and smiled at him. “So…” I tried, putting on a playful tone to try and bring one out of him.

He shrugged his shoulders quickly and drew his lips into a thin line. “So?”

I sighed and let my shoulders deflate in defeat. “Ajax, what’s wrong? You didn’t even stay to congratulate me. I would have stayed for you.”

Then he was running a hand down his face in frustration. “Y/n, my team lost. Why would I stay? If you came here for a congratulations, then here — congratulations.” He snarked, throwing his hands out to the sides.

I stood up from his bed and walked over to stand in front of him, maybe a ruler of space between us now. “Okay, seriously, what is wrong with you? It’s just a game.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, to you, maybe.” He started, leaning down slightly to eye-level with me. “I was the reason my team lost. Do you know how bad that sucks?”

My neck reeled back slightly at his statement. “Ajax, what are you talking about? Your team lost because my team fucked with your boat. Simple as that. You had an advantage and we took it from you. That’s it.”

“Yeah, well, tell Xavier that.” I tilted my head in confusion. The anger was gone from his voice, replaced by regret and disappointment. “He said it was my fault we lost. That I took too long to get our flag.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. God, I love Xavier but he can be a real dick sometimes. “You know how he gets sometimes, Jax. Don’t listen to him.”

“It’s kind of hard not to when he’s fucking screaming in my ear.”

My arms went around his neck as I pecked his forehead. “You’re friends with a loveable douchebag. You should know this by now.” His arms encircled my waist, pulling me into him for comfort as he buried his face in my neck.

“I was so close to taking my hat off and stoning him.” He mumbled into my shoulder. I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me, walking him backwards to his bed as carefully as I could without being able to see it.

When the back of my knees hit the mattress, I let both of our bodies fall back into the cushioned surface. He was kind of heavy but it was nothing I wasn’t used to. I maneuvered us, with some of Ajax’s help, until I leaned against the headboard with him on top of me — head on my chest, arms around my hips as his legs spread around mine.

I rubbed the back of his neck and let him find comfort in my presence. “If it makes you feel any better,” I started in a low-tone, not wanting to break the moment. “Even if we hadn’t messed with your boat, Xavier would have cost you guys the win anyway. He was too focused on Wednesday to even row his paddles correctly. I looked over and he was rowing backwards.”

This elicited a laugh, vibrating from his chest and onto my lap. His embrace around me got tighter, just by a little bit. “How’d you know I was in here?” He mumbled.

I shrugged. “I saw you take off after we got the trophy. Asked Xavier where you went and he was being all pissy. I just guessed. I mean, where else would you go?”

“I was gonna come to you but I didn’t want to upset you. You looked happy. You won and you were celebrating, I didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

Moving the hand that was stroking the back of his neck to hold his chin, I lifted his gaze to meet mine. I smiled sheepishly at him, making one equally as genuine appear on his own face. “Now, you’re happy too. That’s the only win I need.”

He laughed and buried his face into my stomach, tickling me. “Cheesy…” He said, muffled into my suit.

“Truthful.”