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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 10 months

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A/N: Erik killed your husband, T'Challa, and took the throne. Y'all got beef and sexual tension. This is part 3 and the end. Smut included.

Part 1 Part 2

In the 20 minutes on the airship, you and Killmonger don't talk. He adjusts his neck. He plays with his nails. You cross your ankles in the opposite direction.

Since what he said, it's been a week of silence on your end. You admit. It got to you, the guilt. Was what he said wrong, yes, but there was truth within it, and that truth made you feel like the worst traitor of them all.

Still, all week, he's slid paperwork under your door, and you've quietly scratched out full paragraphs, sending it back with pen-inked edits. One pleasure of being an advisor? You get to piss him off and hear him sigh through the door. It's his own fault for attaching clauses as if you won't comb through all 15 pages of his loosely worded proposals. You have the time.

"I humored your request to replace the Dora as a trade-off for your active participation today. Make me look good," he reminds you as you step off the airship into Step Town, located in the Golden City. Last you were here was with T'Challa. This was his place to get away from the stress of the palace. Now you understand. Here, he could breathe and walk the streets. You take a breath of the fresh air though people are everywhere.

The two of you have come to do a walk-through and some small-scale mediation for morale. You take the reigns at D'Jouti's and Sampha's, speaking before Killmonger can manipulate or spread his unidentified agenda. It's a property dispute. You keep it at a property dispute. It takes a lot of skill, skill that you learned watching T'Challa manage strong personalities.

"Killmonger," you gesture, bringing him in finally. If the men want to meet the 'new king' so badly, that's their prerogative.

"Ndingu Yaba N'Jadaka." Sternly, he shakes their hands and looks them in the eye as if he truly cares for them. If you didn't know better, you'd believe it. Fortunately, you do know better. "Let me know how I can help you in the future."

They nod eagerly, easily enamored.

"Why wait, why not now," you challenge.

Killmonger's brow arches so quickly that they miss it. It's his own fault for being disingenuous. While they voice their thoughts, and every gripe that's been eating them since T'Chaka, you abandon him. Serves him right.

Step Town is the cultural and economic hub. The variety here is more than you'll get anywhere else nearby, perfect for shopping. You comb through colorful beaded jewelry, picking up a deep green stone necklace. You have fabric this color.

"About you behaving on this trip?"

You sigh, ignoring the evil immigrant as he comes up behind you. Instead of engaging, you pay for the necklace with a smile at the young saleswoman. She made it herself.

"Thank you," she smiles back.

"No, thank you. It's beautiful!"

He waits until you walk away from her stand to address you alone, gripping your wrist when you start to walk away from him. You shoot him a sharp look and feel his fingers slip away.

"If you won't behave out here, neither will I. You've been warned."

"You wanted them to get on their knees and worship you like a God for appearing to them. I simply skipped past the bullshit. If you're going to be King, be King, but the nonsense has to end."

A lustful wickedness flares in his eyes.

"Not interested. Move on."

"I've got your clearance to be King."

"That's not at all what I said."

"Same thing." His eyes shine as he looks out on the marketplace with new interest.

"It's not at all," you sigh. "I'm telling you. Don't disgrace my country or disturb the peace we've built."

"Maybe it needs to be disturbed." He grins at a passerby, putting on his caring act once more.

"Don't you get tired of beating a dead horse? I'm sick of you," you frown. Violence as a perpetual state? Exhausting. Who besides him would want that?

The next point in the visit for morale is Aishat's Contracting Services. Again, you dominate the interaction, purposefully cutting Killmonger off when you realize he's planting the seeds for future manipulation. He interrupts with nationalist rhetoric and fear-mongering not easily spotted in casual conversation.

"It's impressive," you interrupt his interruption. "You're able to resolve this amicably, but if I may? Hatred gives rise to violence and creates the conditions for war. Caution is a virtue of the wise."

"Yes, Queen. Wise take. Wish you'd take that mindset to heart, maybe we'd get along," he winks, cheeky in front of the contractors. You glare, a bullet already loaded in your mental chamber.

"We don't see eye to eye because, unlike you, I subscribe to civility, not senseless murder."

"See, that's contrary to what I know to be true." His head tilts as he engages his crowd. "I'm guessing your six attempts on my life don't equate. You know what it does equate to? Treason. But you know the penalty for that. I don't have to quote Wakandan law to you."

The thinly veiled threat of exile surprises the people. It's good. They need to see his nature.

"I'd hardly call it that. You did insult the past kings, including my late husband," you turn, completely throwing him under the bus.

"We fornicated in the bed you and he shared. His spot is still warm, in fact. Is that not also insulting the late King, or am I mistaken?"

Eyes are wide and judging.

"Do you really want to do this, my Queen?"

"How dare you spew such vile lies!"

You muster the calm to keep the overwhelming shame at bay well enough to conceal. Meanwhile, he continues the professional conversation. Too much denial makes you look guilty, so you don't continue, but you now see firsthand how people believe him.

Your head remains high as he follows you. Putting your feelings aside, you smile to others as you're offered free food. You insist on purchasing the roasted corn and pears as they are inexpensive and delicious.

"I agreed to replace the Dora under the impression that you'd keep your end of our bargain," Killmonger mutters when no one is in listening distance, and you're boarding the airship once more.

"Oh! Did I Iie to you? Imagine that." Your nose scrunches as you take your seat. He takes his.

"It's cool, I match energy."

Sighing, you close your eyes. You can't control what these people believe anymore than you can control anything else these days.

"Now, half the city, possibly the country, will know what we did."

"And that's all you have on me."

You're actually asleep, which is unexpected. Erik slides to the front to enjoy the colors of the sky. His father was right. Wakandan sunsets have quickly become his favorite thing.

At the palace, he prepares for another silent dinner. You sit at the opposite end of the table without provocation. The Queen being seen and not heard ain't a bad deal. It's been peaceful, something rare.

You leave the table, still shameful after eating and living life as usual, and with enough on his mind to contemplate, he retires to his own quarters. He's added his own touches at this point: black and gold, Wakandan tapestries, and a Tupac printed duvet. He's also gotten hold of the highest of Wakandan tech, some for entertainment and communication, some for more nefarious purposes.

He's in for the night, plotting because his plans for the world depend on his ability to stay three steps ahead at all times. Step one has been realized. As King, he's able to complete his father's work but with a twist. Now, he has to move strategically. After all, he will be starting a world war very soon.

Imagining the fall of Europe makes his stomach leap. It bubbles with sharp shooting pains. On second thought, he makes it to the bathroom just in time to shit his stomach out through his ass. It's still churning as if trying to self-abort him from this plane.

"AIDA!"

His body's feeling fatigued, face and neck shining from a sheen of cold sweat.

"My king," she responds from the opposite side of the door. Suddenly, he feels faint.

"Check on the Queen and report back. And get the doctor!"

"At once."

It's a good thing the palace has its own physician. Waiting in immense pain, nausea, and misery, he lifts his head when Aida knocks.

"The Queen is perfectly healthy."

That confirms it. You've finally done it.

Dr. Ebi confirms the poison, treating Erik in the infirmary with an emergency transfusion and educating him that he would NOT have died thanks to the herb, but thanks to advanced Wakandan medicine, his sickness is healed completely and in much less time.

Erik laughs from the infirmary bed, going from stress to feeling invincible. The only thing keeping him from teaching you a lesson now is exhaustion. After he sleeps... It's on.

He collapses in the medical room that's been darkened for comfort. Even this is a five-star bed and breakfast compared to combat conditions where he slept in uninhabitable places, always on high alert.

Almost immediately, he drifts off into a dreamland where his father comes to him. Suddenly, he's a little boy who's been caught rummaging through his father's belongings, but his father isn't mad. He simply holds him.

"I did it, Baba. I'm the King."

"So you are," N'Jobu smiles.

"And guess what? I can unite us again. All of our tribes around the world, we'll finally be one big tribe, just like you said."

"You've worked hard to make your dream happen. I am proud."

"Even if-" Erik wonders, now his true age. "Even if I've done bad things to get here?"

The war, the murder, the pillaging, the deceit... It all flashes in his mind like a movie.

"Does the end justify the means?"

He's only had the hope that it would, but what if he fails and it's all been in vain? That would mean he sacrificed all those lives for nothing.

N'jobu, knowing all that's occured having seen it through his eyes, raises his chin.

"Head up. You are a King, yes, but more than that you are my son, and no matter what you do, I will remain on your side always."

It's what Erik's needed to hear. If his father's the only one to believe in him, it's enough.

Erik bolts upright in the darkened room, still half-in a dream. He's heard noise when he should be alone. He lies back down, wiping his eyes and waiting, in kill mode for the next hour until the threat lurking in shadow is revealed and edging silently toward him. The feminine physique gives nothing away, considering he's surrounded every day by deadly women, each of them harboring a motive.

"UH!" You grunt, giving away your identity when he knees you in the gut.

"The fuck?"

Flipping on the beside lamp, he can see you completely, crumbled over the bed with a bigass machete in your hand.

"You got something against me sleeping? Give me damn the machete before you hurt yourself."

You take your swings instead, chasing him across his infirmary bed where he sweeps your legs and pins you by the chest in a simple and painless hold.

"You ain't on that level, Queen. Play with someone safe."

He moves his head from the path of your slow fists. You cry out as he captures your wrist, squeezing until the machete falls to the bed. He puts it to your throat.

"Neither are you," you smirk, meeting his eyes proudly. "I ALMOST TOOK YOU OFF THIS EARTH! I'll do it again, and again, and AGAIN..."

Despite the machete at your neck, there's no fear. You both know he won't do it.

"You'll never know peace," you continue. "I'll KEEP trying and one day? Very soon. It WILL work because you're weak."

That last word gets to him despite his best effort not to react. You're about to have a field day with this word now that you know it's a trigger.

"The confidence you must have to talk shit in a vulnerable position..."

He almost sounds bored, but you know better.

"You won't kill me. First of all, you're too weak. Second, you NEED me. Without me, you're a tyrant, and it's hard to gain the backing of a nation when you're an enemy of the people."

"It's not that hard actually," he mutters. "You wanna know why I REALLY keep you around? Who ELSE would put up with the woe is me shit? Every day, full of guilt and mad at the world. I didn't even LIKE that nigga, but you're right to be mad. That's why I'm the only one who gets you."

"Oh shuut uuup," you sigh, taking advantage of the monologue to pull a little knife you stole from the kitchen and plug it into his stomach.

"SHIT!" His face scrunches.

You push harder, tired of his manipulation. He's already showed his true colors. You won't believe in him again.

"You gone cut yourself," he winces, the machete still at your throat. "Trying to hurt me, you gone fuck around slit your own throat by mistake."

"I don't care, if it'll shut you up."

Even if it does cut, you won't die. You lean into the machete to his surprise and twist the small blade into his gut. He staggers back, but not before you get sliced pretty good in the process.

"I ain't ever warned one person this many times," his brows knit in frustration. You can see the pain in his eyes.

"It feels good to cause you pain," you stare, not wanting to miss a second.

His eyes narrow briefly as he holds his breath to pull the bloodied blade from his stomach. "Ugh, fuck," he winces. "You REALLY think you doing something, too. That's the painful part."

Dropping the knives on the floor, he kicks both away toward the door.

"I see. I'm a have to teach you a few things."

You want him so bad that you can't sleep or think straight. It's clear to him. Is it clear to you?

Erik climbs to his feet and shoves you back for a moment to breathe. Your eyes are still trained on him like you're not done. It's not only rage at him. It's toward yourself.

Blood's dripping down your neck, but you don't feel it due to the adrenaline in your body. Seems he's underestimated your ability to handle rough play.

"You need stitches."

You come at him again, and reflexively, he flings you back, which fuels your homicidal vengeance-seeking. You'll never break if he keeps dodging or pushing you back. That much is now clear.

Fuck it, he decides, looking into your rage-filled eyes. He'll give you a win just this once and if your psycho ass wants blood?

Let there be blood.

Your responding smile is contemptuous. Your eyes only flash to the knives for a millisecond, but it's done with the intention of tricking him. You want him to think you'll go for them like you went for that glass in your bedroom. That means he has to actually dive for it to give you a shot.

"How about a visual demonstration," you grin widely. "Of your death!"

As you speak, you fake and use his dive response to knee him across the face, right in his golden tooth.

"I've been hit harder during basic training," he admits, watching you seethe. "Try again."

Flinging yourself in a blind rage, you rain down every hit, every elbow blow, and every kick to his ribs, groin, throat, and everything else you can reach. He grunts, bearing it and eating every hit while remaining on his feet, even when he feels like buckling. You don't seem to realize he isn't blocking.

"Now tell me how weak I am."

"YOU'RE WEAK," you growl, swinging fists, feral with rage.

"I feel it," he growls, tensing his abs and gritting his teeth while you punch the same place you just stabbed. "That hate brewing deep for me every time you swing. When you look at me," he pauses, wondering if you've figured it out. "More."

You keep hitting that same spot. It hurts, but it ain't enough, and it won't be enough until you find some strength to hit harder.

"These princess ass punches. Reminds me of my cousin, slumped in the river like some Sleeping Beauty."

"BASTARD."

You shove him back, smashing his face as you drive your knuckles into his jaw. You were aiming for his nose, but he made a mistake and turned on reflex.

"That's it? You hit like the pillow princess you are. Maybe yo nigga dived on purpose, bored of that stiff ass pussy."

You put every ounce in your body into punching through dense muscle and bone, spurred on by his heavy grunts, and he finally bleeds from the inside of his mouth, giving you a feeling of catharsis. You need more.

"I'm all you got now," he groans, shaking his head. "You gone learn. You're Queen because I allow it! You're beholden to ME!"

He hasn't been blocking. GOOD. He needs his ass beat. You've been beating it nonstop.

"I'm Queen because I married a REAL King," you pant, your head back as you grab your hips to catch your breath. "I will REMAIN Queen when I send you to answer to Kings past!"

"Shit, I'm not worried. You can't even break a simple hold." He spits the blood. "Killing me? Impossible."

"You can ramble to your heart's content as they kick your ass across the ancestral plane."

He snorts.

"So kill me then! Whatever the fuck you think you bout to do. DO IT NOW."

The adrenaline coursing makes you feel that you can break through his body if you channel all your hate and pent-up rage, all your grief, all your stress.

"MORE," he barks, his eyes deranged and begging for your worst.

Blood drips from his mouth. He spits again like it's nothing, wiping his chin.

"THAT'S IT? THAT'S ALL YOU GOT?"

You give it and then some, putting him on his knees and audibly cracking him across the jaw. He licks his lips, puckering in a quick kiss.

You're winded. Your hands are bruised and bleeding. The adrenaline is wearing off, and your whole body is stressed.

"I KNOW you ain't tired! You gone KILL me right? I'M RIGHT HERE!" Arms out on his knees, he challenges. "KILL ME."

Your eyes go to the machete he's dropped on the floor, and he reads your mind, smirking. You scramble for the machete as he gets up.

"C'MON!"

Slashing through his bare chest twice in a narrow X, you back him up a bit. He's circling you like an animal trying to find a weak entry point. You keep your eyes trained on his.

Swinging another three times, he dodges like you're both in a boxing ring. You swing again, slashing across his stomach. Instead of backing up, he's walks into it, purposefully cutting his hand in the process of prying the machete from yours for the second time in a night.

"I'll say it again, sweetheart," he squints. "I'm not going anywhere, no time soon. AND... I'm all you have at this point in time."

The machete spins in his cut hand as his tongue rests on his canine, tasting blood.

"Then I have nothing, but I'll gain much through your death."

You throw another jab, but he catches it and redirects you to the floor, having gone far enough to prove his point to you.

"My turn."

He knows your efforts are hopeless, but you gotta know it.

"What are YOU gonna do?" You glare up at him, cocky and stubborn. "I'll only keep coming," you rant. You continue until he bends and delivers a long and slow shallow cut across your thigh through your black pants.

"Hm." He licks at the blood on the machete, intrigued. "You look disgusted... I can be real disgusting. Shall I show you?"

"AIDA," you yell. That fear is what he wanted. More adrenaline coursing through your body.

"Something about having you trapped with a knife in my hand and you at my mercy," he smirks, "It does it for me... You look terrified."

"AI-," you stop mid-word as the blade starts to press into your skin, drawing more droplets to the surface..

"Aida ain't coming for you. Nobody coming for you... What? You thought it was your idea to replace the Dora? Nah, Queen."

He only told you that to make you comply. He'd always planned to replace and eventually get rid of them completely.

"You lost to me the second you decided to survive. Slowly, I'll CONTINUE to replace everyone who ever THOUGHT of being loyal to you. You gone learn. I'M all you got and if I gotta carve you up to teach you that, I will."

As he expected, you run to the door, trying the handle, pulling, banging, trying to escape.

"I told you. They don't answer to you."

Poor lil girl, trapped with the big bad man. What will you do?

You run, staying on the edge of the room, your frightened eyes on the machete slicing through air in his grasp.

"You've run as far as you can go. Now yield... Or don't," he shrugs. "It's fun for me either way."

Slashing the machete through the air, an evil giddiness erupts from him as you hole up in a corner like a rat caged.

"Call me weak."

You're silent.

"Say it."

Trailing his fingers over the sharp blade, he waits for the word that will be his green light.

"Say it," he dares once more. "I want nothing more in this moment than to fuck you raw in a puddle of blood with you covered in my cum and me by that sweet, sweet honey. Come to me," he stops, a mere six feet from you. "I won't kill you. I swear. Just rough you up a bit."

You stare from your fearful ball, bewildered and in shock.

"No? You want me to come get you?"

That thought terrifies you more.

He tosses the machete now that you see your position.

"I can do anything to you at this moment. Take anything I desire, and no one will help you. Just like no one helped me. Just like no one helped T'Challa. When will you see I'm all you got in this world? I'm not your enemy."

Confused, you don't move. He takes a step back and waits, extending his hand once you see he doesn't plan to move.

"Truce?"

You hesitate at you're at wit's end with his manipulations and your conflicting impulses. Emotionally and psychologically, you're adrift from any stable point of being.

You take his hand.

He guides you forward, but you aren't processing. You've stopped minutes ago.

"I can't," you cry, hitting him as he stands there, taking it. "You killed T'Challa. I can't feel anything but hate for the man who murdered my husband!"

"Look, LOOK." He captures your flailing arms holding them tightly at your sides. "Listen. I sincerely mean it when I say FUCK your husband. Fuck your guilt! He's gone! You're here!"

"You INSUFFERABLE, VULGAR-"

"Stop, I'm not done. I can make the confusion stop. I can make you stop thinking. I can make you turn it all off, all of it if you say one word," he whispers, seeking a deal in trade for your soul.

"You've been disrespectful from the start, not saying my name even once. I wanna hear you say it."

"Killmonger. That's what you are, no more than a U.S. tool."

"Nope. Try again."

"Orphan. Go to hell."

He takes a deep sigh.

"That's not my name, sweetheart."

His voice is sultry, his grip strong on your arms as if it's holding the shattered peices together.

"Mm," you hum, looking away. You can't let your mind go there. You felt the same way on the airship just looking at him. It's shameful.

"Look at me," he releases your arms to hold your chin up, forcing eye contact. His touch immediately softens. "One word."

"No," you whisper. Before you can stop yourself, your fingers dig into his locks. Your lips are pressed against his. Your nails claw his scalp, sliding gently down his beard, his broad neck and shoulders, his large muscled arms, his scarred and textured chest. Your breathing is erratic as you moan with desperation.

Wordlessly, he lifts you and lays you back on the infirmary bed. Never breaking your kiss, he climbs on top and knees your legs apart, leaning between, his dick print pressed against your thigh. Your frantic hands roam and grasp at his perfectly built body, warm and weighted like a blanket, while his erection grows and grinds subtly on your hip.

That familiar clean scent of shea butter radiates from your smooth and supple skin mixed with the metallic air of sweat and blood. His own blood is smearing onto your body, and yours is concentrated at your neck.

Like the machete, the tip of his tongue fondles your collarbone, tasting blood from your skin. It's followed by a gentle suck.

You quickly remove your black shirt, pulling him back in, and his lips trail the bare skin of your breast over your bra cup. His wandering fingers slide under your pants and over your thin panties, feeling the moist heat seal an outline of your lips.

"Show me how wet you can get."

He nibbles your jaw, your breathing and the heartbeat against his hand doing all the communicating.

The breath on your neck combines with the brush of his beard and travels through the cells of your skin, lighting every erogenous zone. You push at his pants and underwear, pushing it down past his perfect ass as you try to pull him so close he slides inside.

You want the dick. You want the dick. You need the dick.

"Say my name."

Your back lifts off the bed as your hips grind independently of you. Your body craves every touch and trembles needily at pleasure.

"I really do hate you to my core... N'Jadaka."

He bites your shoulder. You bite your lip, lifting your hips for him to take your pants and your panties at once, your eyes on his.

"You sure?"

He slides in before you answer, licking his lips when you gasp and clutch his ass, pulling him deeper. You can take it and you need it. Taking your cue, he raises your calves and pushes your knees back, getting deeper. Short, slow strokes with the dick deep inside, pushing you back. You hold onto your knees as you look down, trying to see. You missed this dick. Every 4 or 5 strokes, he'll go long and push it back in, letting you feel every delicious inch.

"Say my name."

"N'Jadaka," your face scrunches, matching the pulsation that you're unintentionally doing on his shaft. You grip him on purpose this time, finding a squeeze and release method to match his speed. He's lost in it, moving like he's possessed, his eyes rolling. He keeps going.

"Fuck," you mutter, concentrating on your orgasm thats building.

"I feel you. I feel you, let go."

He doesn't have to tell you, you hold onto him as you cum, not wanting him to stop. He doesn't.

"Ooh, Erik," you moan, clawing his back. "Ooh.. ooh.. right there, don't stop."

Your legs shake as he pulls out slowly to just the tip and pushes all the way back in just as you cum. Your legs lock around his hips, your body is trembling.

He waits for your legs to release just a bit.

Eventually, he pulls back again, leaving an inch inside of you as he brings your ass closer and holds your legs up by the ankles. You moan and whimper, taking every bit of his sweet assault, your legs now against his shoulders.

Coming once more, you find yourself on top, riding fast with both hands fisting his locs. You grind forward in small circles, feeling his hands assist by lifting you when you move.

"Watch out," he warns, lifting you completely off as he cums, cream spurting on the infirmary bed. You grab his dick and stroke until it spits again.

"No," he shuts you down when you try to put it back inside of you, cum-coated and all. "Sit on my face instead."

You do without pause, grinding the same as you would on his dick with his slick tongue reaching and flicking strategically. He grips your ass, spreading your lips more in the process and sucks on your clit gently, alternating with licks until you come again and sigh, falling to the bed and rolling off of his face.

"Mm," you moan, feeling satiated. You lay on your side with your back against his side.

He rubs slow, wide, firm circles from your lower back to your shoulders and the base of your neck. As good as it feels, you still haven't processed half of what's happened. The whole moment seems surreal, like you weren't even thinking. You were moving solely on instinct.

You still hate him. That hasn't changed, but the sex...

"UH," you exhale. "I'll probably regret this in the morning. You'll use it against me somehow, and I won't be able to look at the Dora when I- Hm."

You wrap your fingers over his thicker ones briefly as he grasps your neck, pulling your head back close enough for him to whisper, "Shut up," in your ear. "You talk too much... I'm a use it, but damn. You'll survive. It's what we do."

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rougepancake · 1 year

Text

Constellations

Eriks!Vash x Ex bounty hunter!Afab!Reader

Not proofread because who was time for that

I’m also not that confident in it lolol-

Warnings: Vash is in plant heat, monster fucking??, breeding??? (TEE HEE), weird plant biology in general????, overstim, mentions of fingering. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Eriks typically helps out delivering rations to everyone in town, and he just can’t help himself from being drawn in by you. However, you find people truly insufferable.

“Hey Lina, why don’t you go help Eriks with the deliveries today?” Sheryl suggests, placing a hand on her hip as she stares down at her granddaughter. Lina gives her a mischievous smile and runs out of the bar, having no intentions of helping him. She’s a troublemaker, that girl. Even if she means well she’s still constantly endangering herself.

Lina runs out into the streets and chases after Eriks, grinning from ear to ear as she jumps up and smacks him on the back. “Found ya!” She giggles, following him around the town with a smile.

It’s the same thing every day. The same people, the same route. Everything.

Except for today.

Eriks looks down at the order list, raising an eyebrow when he reads a name he’s not familiar with. He bends down and points it out to Lina.

“Where is this person’s house?” He asks her, curiosity shining beneath his glasses.

“Oh you’re not gonna like her! She’s mean!” Lina laughs and points to the house, which is on the far end of town, away from everyone else.

“Really? How so?” He tilts his head. The house looks nice from a distance… surely it can’t be all that bad.

“The rumor has it that she used to be a big bad bounty hunter!” Lina explains, her expressions over exaggerated as she speaks. “She hasn’t spoken to anyone since she moved here years ago and only comes into town when she needs more rations.” She pauses, tapping her chin in thought. “I bet she’s happy to find that someone is delivering to doorsteps now.” She shrugs,

Eriks looks out at the house, curiosity striking him. “Alright thank you Lina, I’ll be on my way now.” He gives her a wave before picking up the box of rations and heading out towards the house.

It’s a good ways away on the outskirts of the town, making him wonder if this person really did hate the people that much.

As he approaches the door, he raises a fist to knock on it gently, shouting to let them know that their rations are here. He hears a grunt come from the other side of the door and smiles in anticipation, only to be met with your gloomy and indifferent expression.

“What do you want?” You ask bitterly, looking him up and down to see if he’s armed.

“Oh! Your rations are here.” Eriks points to the box on your porch, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Okay thanks.” You huff, slamming the door in his face only to hear an ‘ouch!’ come from him. You look down and see that his foot was between the door and the frame. What a dumb decision.

“H-Hey! I would actually like to talk to you!” He stammers, smiling nervously. You can tell he’s doing his best to hide the pain in his foot, and he’s actually doing a good job doing so-

Until you put your foot on top of his.

“Listen, partner.” You grumble, leaning in close to make a point. “All I know about you is that yer the sketchy fella that Sheryl took in. And I’m not about to let a stranger like you into my house for a little chit chat.” You poke his chest with an annoyed huff. “You got that Blondie?”

He looks into your eyes, surprised that you would be so bold. There’s something odd about it… about how cold you are… how you live alone and away from the town… it’s all so strange.

“Is what Lina told me true?” He blurts out the question, his hands quickly coming up to cover his face and hide the embarrassment he’s feeling. You pause and just look at him, unsure of how to answer.

After a long moment, you shrug and turn around, looking over your shoulder at him with a smirk.

“Anythin’s true if you want it to be, partner.”

“Eriks.”

“‘Scuse me?” You stop in your tracks, now turning your body around as you face him. He’s freakishly tall, and you nearly break your neck trying to look up at him, but you manage and continue to stare.

“My name. It’s Eriks.” He smiles and sticks out his hand, waiting for you to shake it.

You look at his hand and then back up at him, raising a brow as you cross your arms stubbornly. Behind him, the sky darkens and the wind begins to pickup, signaling that a sandstorm is brewing.

“Get inside.” With a grunt, you grab your box of rations and push him into your house, ignoring his questions as you lock the door behind you. Quickly, you close all the windows and shudders. The sirens blare outside, and you swear you could have heard someone shout that it was a class four storm, which would mean that you and Eriks would be stuck together longer than intended.

You turn around to take care of your rations, pushing past him and into the kitchen without a word. It gave you something to do, and something to take your mind off of the howling storm outside. However, it was quiet in the house.

Too quiet, given how talkative your guest had been at your door.

“Ey. You still alive out there?” You call, peeking your head out of the doorway to the kitchen to see if he’s out there.

“…yeah…” How odd. He seems much more reclusive than before, and seems to be keeping his distance from you. He’s in the far corner of your living room, his knees to his chest as his eyes glow brightly, watching you closely.

It’s unsettling, to say the least. You’re stuck in your own home with a man you just met, who, funnily enough, is acting quite strange.

“Are ya afraid of sandstorms?” You ask from the kitchen, almost done shelving your items. The sound of silence reaches your ears again, and you can’t help but lean back to check on him.

“No…” He mumbles, his eyes meeting yours once again. The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, the unnatural glow causing goosebumps to spread across your body.

You take a step out of the kitchen and into the living room, freezing when you see him back away further. “Then why the hell are you in that corner?” The question sounds harsh enough, but it’s laced with curiosity as you take another step towards him.

“Stay back!” But you couldn’t. It was like you were being attracted to him, being drawn in by how… mesmerizing his eyes were…

“I said stay back!”

You had stopped moving closer now, but you were still looking at him. There was just something about him that you couldn’t quite grasp. And what was that smell? It was like a mixture between honey and some form of candy, which almost made you wonder if you had left one of your jars out.

You toss your curiosity to the side as the wind slowly dies down outside. “Right. Whatever. Get out of here and go back to Sheryl.” You do your best to sound as uninterested as possible, but it’s just so hard. Why was he luring you in? You hadn’t cared him before, so why do you care now?

Without a single bit of hesitation, Eriks stumbled out of your house, that look still in his eyes. He ran and ran until he was well out of town, making you wonder if he actually did have a death wish.

For a while after that, you didn’t see him around, not even with Lina or Sheryl. It seemed that he had disappeared from your small town entirely, which you didn’t mind, but you still felt… curious.

What was he? And more importantly… what was he hiding?

Oh you just couldn’t get it out of your head. That look in his eyes… the sudden urge to be near him… You didn’t know what had come over you in that moment, but you wanted to. You wanted to understand why he left so quickly, especially when the sirens hadn’t officially stopped yet. He was in such a hurry… but why? Was it you? Had you done something to upset him? You didn’t think so… but maybe he just had a thing for closeness…

Days had passed… turning into weeks where he avoided coming near your house, dropping your rations off at the porch and leaving without a word. It was odd, but then again, his whole existence was odd, so you didn’t really mind.

Until he knocked on your door at three in the morning.

It was dark, and the wind was howling outside again, signaling that another storm was on its way. When you opened the door for him, his striking blue eyes met yours, shining with such intensity that you felt a shiver run up your spine. He towered over you in your doorway, taking small steps towards you as you backed away. What in the hell was he up to?

“I haven’t… been able to stop thinking about you…” His voice is deep and seductive, his breath seemingly heavy as if he ran all this way to be in your presence.

You’re unable to say anything, words failing to leave your mouth as he locks the door behind him and the storm sirens go off in the background. It’s a class six. Dangerous and deadly.

“Please… let me ride out this storm with you…” He bends down and attaches his lips to your neck, not even waiting for your response. Your breath hitches in your chest and you freeze, slowly turning your head to look at the man on your neck.

It’s as if he’s snapped back to reality, fear filling his eyes as he presses himself against the door suddenly, guilt filling his tone. “I’m sorry… I… I need someone… for the night… or for a while…” Eriks whispers in a breathy voice. His hand twitches, wanting nothing more than to grab ahold of your face and take you. To claim your lips as his and ravish your body.

He can already feel himself losing control, but holds himself back, biting the inside of his cheek painfully as he waits for you to answer.

And you just can’t say no…

He’s drawing you in… and like a moth to a flame, you can’t turn away…

“You may stay.” You barely manage to get the words out of your mouth before his lips are on yours, his arms snaking around you and pulling you close. He seems hesitant… like he doesn’t want to hurt you… but he just can’t stop. He’s in too deep now.

Your movements blur together, and before you know it, your back is on the couch, your shirts tossed to the side as you both become a panting mess. His long blonde hair hangs down, tickling you as his face overs above yours. You can feel him shiver at the feeling of your fingers tracing lightly over his scars… closing his eyes to relish in the feeling.

It was amazing, really. Each scar told a different story, stories that you would never understand, but stories nonetheless. Each one held a different memory, one filled with pain and sadness, you were sure.

“S-Stop…” He whispered weakly, turning his head away from you in embarrassment. “I… won’t be able to hold myself back…”

Did it really matter if he was able to? You could tell he needed this, so who were you to deny him of that? He was just such a gentleman… it was simply intoxicating.

“Don’t then.” You grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look into your eyes. He was scared, the fear and nervousness in his eyes an image that you would never forget.

He leaned in to kiss you again, much more passionate and tender than before. His tongue was sweet against yours, something similar to what the gods would have called ambrosia. Oh it was amazing.

His tongue moved against yours, his hips moving in sync with your own as he dry jumped you. A low, primal groan escaped him, and you felt what seemed to be roots slowly curling around your body.

What the hell was this?!

You looked at him and at your body, squirming at how they were moving. It tickled, but in a weird way that sort of turned you on. However, Eriks pretended that it was wasn’t real as he practically tore your pants off of your lower body. He was antsy… it was obvious.

“E-Eriks…” You whispered, your eyes widening in shock when you felt him shove two fingers in you without warning.

“Vash.” His voice was deep, his expression serious. It made you writhe in anticipation.

“E-Excuse me..?” You stammered out, your breath heavy as you tried to focus on his voice rather than his fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers, dragging the tips along the sides of your walls, eliciting a low moan from your throat.

“Say it.” He leaned in and kissed your neck as he hurriedly unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants down to his knees before aligning himself with your dripping cunt.

“Vash-“ Without any sort of forewarning, he thrust in, sheathing himself in you with a moan. He threw his head back, as if to savor the moment, but you could tell he was purposefully holding back.

In the dark, you could see markings on Vash’s skin glow, weird, feather-like things sprouting from his body as he began to thrust into you. It was entrancing, almost hypnotic.

His pace was desperate, his moans high pitched and needy. Your nails scratched into his back, leaving red marks in their wake as he pounded into you relentlessly.

Two of the roots that had been curling around you now cupped your breasts, as if to pleasure you further. It was a strange feeling, but you couldn’t help but moan at the contact. He had you wrapped around his finger, your mind blank and his name falling off your lips like a prayer.

It seemed like hours later that he finally finished rearranging your guts, collapsing onto you with a huff. All of the weird features such as the feathers and the roots disappeared as his breathing calmed, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his breath warm on your skin.

You couldn’t think straight- hell you couldn’t even breathe. There were tears of pleasure in your eyes and your legs had been shaking since you had cum the first time.

“What… are you..?” You managed to ask after finally regaining your breath.

“You’ll find out in time…”

You patted his head gently and decided that he was some sort of angel. One that was never meant to be understood by the minds of humans. One with needs and desires so strong that they’re incomprehensible to the human race. You dubbed him a divine being of the highest authority, beautiful and powerful.

He was an angel. Just not in the way you would have thought.

“Your secret is safe with me, Vash the Stampede.”

The words hung in the air, and you felt him tense at the sound of his name. He hadn’t expected that you would have figured it out… but he didn’t mind. He’d worry about that later. All that matters now is this. This moment right here. Of his skin on yours and your arms wrapped around each other.

You swear you heard him crying softly, his shoulders moving occasionally as you rested.

All that mattered to him was now. It was all he needed, all he had ever dreamed of. Physical contact.

“Thank you…” His voice came out in a soft whisper as he lifted his head to give you a smile.

He sounded so fragile… so broken…

You couldn’t let anything happen to him, regardless of who or what he was. He’s yours and you’re his until he moves on to the next town.

Until then… you’ll just keep being drawn in by him, doomed to repeat your mistakes.

#AYYYYY I FINALLY FINISHED IT IM SO HAPPY #trigun #trigun x reader #trigun 98 #trigun smut #trigun x you #x reader #fanfiction #trigun vash #vash imagine #vash the stampede #trimax #vash x reader #vash smut #trigun eriks #eriks vash #eriks vash x reader #vash x you

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hyperpsychomaniac · 4 months

Text

I’ve had the dumbest idea but it won’t leave me alone.

Erik Ahlberg Goes on Holiday. It’s set out like a kids picture book (minimal story text, much visuals), but it’s basically this idiot travelling and getting attacked by every possible mythological creature ( mostly due to poor choices on his part) and it’s not a very relaxing holiday at all.

The only specific ideas I have so far:

Nessie takes a shine to him and follows him and photobombs him at every opportunity, this terrifies Erik

The hot 20 somethings who were super interested in listening to him prattle on about his medal invite him swimming. But they kelpies and want to eat him. He escapes. Without his swimming trunks. “That was a close one!” said Erik. “But at least I escaped with my dignity.”

#hilda #hilda netflix #hilda the series #erik ahlberg #hilda the show #fanart #hilda fanart #hilda the movie

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telleruniverse · 4 months

Text

Meet Aurora

It’s been a while since I posted any art since I started Uni but I couldn’t help but share one of my ocs for @stygianeyedev ‘s Sacrarium series. I’ve been obsessed with both Pario and Gelus, and dragged one of my friends into it. Especially with Heimos, he’s our fav. Anyways, I have more information about her under the cut. I do plant to share more little tidbits and fun facts about her as I draw her and my Pario MC more in the near future, but for now just keeping it simple-ish for now. More under the cut

Age: Late 20s

Pronouns: She/Her

Gender: Female (Intersex/Trans) Sexuality: Bisexual (although could be open to poly if she chooses to.) Profession: Town Baker (former), Witch of Mt. Gelus

Personality: Aurora, is a kind-hearted soul, always willing to lend a helping hand to anyone in need. To everyone she met, Aurora has been a shining beacon in the community and doing her part. She can also be quite outspoken and rambunctious, especially when it’s with getting a reaction out of her friends and loved ones. She can also very much be a little gremlin for the hell of it and especially loves to tease Heimos ( and potential other partners in the future maybe out of love, of course). Hobbies: Cooking, Baking, Basically anything related to the culinary arts. Likes : Stargazing, Learning Magic, Reading, Sketching, Playing with the ravens and in the snow.

Dislikes: Failed Experiments, Being Sick, Bitterness, People assuming her skills for someone other than herself.

Backstory: Aurora's story isn't too much diverted from the story told in Gelus. However, Aurora wasn't just the only baker in the village, she also helped out at the Butcher when she finished her tasks. Yet, because of her love for cooking, along with her motherly deposition, she became an ideal romantic target for many of the male bachelors of town. Aurora waved off their many advancements, especially since she felt they only wanted her as a housewife, mother and maid rather than a lover. This was especially present with Erik, who always made comments about her hobbies and job to be the perfect homemaker, which led to the huge argument before his passing. Of course, then we know what happens after that and... all's well that ends well. Aurora gets to live a happy, long immortal life with Heimos and actually being seen for herself, rather than a homemaker.

#sacrarium series #Sacrarium gelus #sacrarium oc MC #Aurora SG #original fan character #I may have strayed a bit too far with her Keybell era outfit. I definitely have absorbed too much design choices from Hoyoverse.#and other games/media who overdetail their character designs #Def had to hold back but it feels like I still overdesigned a bit but... its too late now #Also like to headcanon that Heimos and herself worked on the outfit design together since Aura is still learning how to sew and knit hersel #Heimos couldn't say no to her puppy eyes so here they are.#Maybe I could make another design for when Heimos becomes a warden and then I can really go hard and overdesign on the next outfit #anyways I'm rambl #teller talks

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wyattjohnston · 1 year

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all fic | universe | gifs | exchanges

(alphabetical order by team, then by player)

updated: 27 Jan '24

* = contains smut

boston bruins

charlie mcavoy

kiss it better now

buffalo sabres

erik johnson

only all the time (series of one shots)

jeff skinner

your eyes look like coming home

tyson jost

it’s me & you

out of ten

this is getting good now (series of one shots)

calgary flames

noah hanifin

the one who needs saving

carolina hurricanes

andrei svechnikov

kinda hope they catch us

colorado avalanche

gabriel landeskog

‘til you give me all your love

nathan mackinnon

the second time

you always did feel just like home

columbus blue jackets

nick blankenburg

need a little company

dallas stars

jake oettinger

the saddest thing i know

roope hintz

no sound worse than silence

tyler seguin

ain’t no sunshine (#1, #2, #3, #4, #5, playlist)

edmonton oilers

leon draisaitl

lock in your love

florida panthers

matthew tkachuk

don't want to miss you like this

you gotta kiss somebody (sometimes)

los angeles kings

pierre luc dubois

never said a thing

montreal canadiens

josh anderson

what am i to you?

nashville predators

anthony beauvillier

into moonlight (series of one shots)

taylor hall

better at leaving* & i just keep coming back to you*

new jersey devils

dougie hamilton

i’ll bet you didn’t even know

jack hughes

make it weird

we all have our secrets

we don't have no time to waste (series of one shots)

nico hischier

late nights in the middle of june (series of one shots)

not perfect (but we were)

new york islanders

mat barzal

all eyes, they're on you (series of one shots)

uh oh

new york rangers

chris kreider

toward a feminine sea

philadelphia flyers

joel farabee

fell in love with you in stages

travis konecny

take me as i am (series of one shots)

pittsburgh penguins

ryan graves

never saw you coming

to hold your hand (would be the bravest thing)

seattle kraken

andre burakovsky

dreamer (just like you)

we look good together*

jamie oleksiak

my picket fence penguins

your eyes look like coming home

st louis blues

colton parayko

open your heart to me

kasperi kapanen

let's get these wheels in motion*

kevin hayes

got a hold on me* (series of one shots)

how those rumours fly

toronto maple leafs

mitch marner

give the stars something to watch

morgan rielly

sache que je serai la tienne (series of one shots)

william nylander

let's get these wheels in motion*

vancouver canucks

brock boeser

and i had silly dreams

take you one day at a time (series of one shots)

elias pettersson

been a long time coming

quinn hughes

let's finish what we started

until the light shines through

vegas golden knights

nolan patrick

found the cure for a broken heart

say that we'll be together (series of one shots)

washington capitals

nicklas backstrom

give up the game

tom wilson

in the shadows & still want more

winnipeg jets

adam lowry

breaking all the rules

#masterlist #this may look exactly the same as the old one #but this is in the new post type

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snowpoet123 · 5 months

Text

Worry is like a rocking chair

... it keeps you occupied, but it gets you nowhere.

In a quiet town, a one-armed man is playing the piano. In the wakes of the July incident, Wolfwood is looking for a new purpose in life, preferably with a side of his old friend Vash. During his travels, he tends to forget his goals, getting caught up in ideals that aren't his own. He goes through phases of self-doubt, self-loathing and self-imposed withdrawal. He tends to forget. In a quiet town, a wandering churchman meets Eriks, a tall blond that looks so much like -. Wolfwood stays. He's not the pastor the town wants, but the only one they'd get. He forgets, his memory swims in darkness. Wolfwood remembers darkness, the darkness remembers him. The one who remembered forgets, and the one who forgot remembers. In a quiet town, two men fall in love. Again.

This is my humble contribution to the @vashwoodbigbang and I'm so happy to have been paired with the incredibly talented @tereferka. Go check out the gorgeous art she created for my piece!

I am completely blown away by her art! The creativity and talent she possesses truly shines through in every piece (check out gardener Livio;). The way she conveyed all my silly ideas and brought this scene to life is making me emotional.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you <3

#vashwood big bang #trigun fanfiction #trigun stampede #vash x wolfwood #vashwood #tristamp #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash the stampede

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yukidragon · 1 year

Text

The Phantom of Sunny Day Jack Headcanons Teaser

Good news, everybody! I've been given the green light to share some of my headcanons about the world of the Phantom of Sunny Day Jack! It's just a little taste of the worldbuilding for now, but soon I'll be allowed to cut loose completely and ramble to my hearts content about the world, the project, and future plans.

Believe you me, I have thoughts about this AU.

First of all, as I’ve said previously, this AU isn’t just a retelling of Phantom of the Opera with a Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack reskin. Jack isn’t Erik from the musical, book, or whatever. He’s in a similar role, being the phantom of the opera house who wears a mask, but he’s still Jack. Considering the character of the phantom changes quite a bit depending on the telling of the story, I should hope that this won’t be too surprising. ;3

The MC takes the role that Christine Daae typically fills in a Phantom of the Opera story, but they are definitely not Christine. Their name, appearance, backstory, etc. are far more malleable, but they are 25+ years of age like the love interests, similar to the original SDJ game.

MC is a singer at the opera house and made some friends there, including the friendly director, who quickly became their best friend and a great support. Even the diva who is the shining star of the opera house is looking their way, though their relationship is more of a friendly rivalry since he’s seen MC’s potential to outshine him. MC has a childhood sweetheart that they lost touch with for what were less than ideal reasons, who has suddenly come back into their life wanting to mend their relationship.

Then, of course, there is the mysterious phantom of the opera who has never revealed his face to anyone… except a very special person who brightens up the dark and lonely life that he’s forced to live in the shadows by being his ray of sunshine. He sees the beauty in MC and their voice, and wants to help them to shine brighter than anyone else. He’s surprisingly sweet, kind, and supportive, which is a total opposite to all the dark rumors swirling around him. Surely they must be exaggerations, right?

While this is taking place in the late 19th century, this is an alternate universe, so things are a little different during this period than in our world. For one thing, the fashions and colors of this world's 19th century France are amazing. Just look at these gorgeous outfits!

Wait until you can see these without the shadows obscuring them. These sprites are just so, so pretty. EC and everyone else working on the art for this project has really created a world full of style~ ✨

Clearly, this world’s textile technology is pretty advanced, even if they’re still lagging in other areas. Also their cuisine is far more advanced as well since, let's face it, if we’re going to make an indulgent and stylish AU, why not throw in some comfort foods like pizza and hot cocoa with whipped cream as well?

An area where this world is far more progressive than our modern day world is with LGBT+ acceptance and rights. No one bats an eye at what pronouns you use, being trans or cis is just what you are, loving someone of any gender identity is just plain love, and it's not strange if you simply don’t have romantic or sexual desires, or just less of it than most.

Overall, this AU is meant to be an indulgent and comforting gothic romance, while also offering elements of intrigue, drama, and horror for spice. Sure, there are bad ends, but sometimes it’s fun to explore those sorts of darker narratives too along with softer happy endings full of love.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #The Phantom of Sunny Day Jack #Headcanon Ramblings

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mcavoy-girl · 1 year

Text

Just like you

"Charles!" You yell.

"What the hell is he doing!" Someone yells.

You run towards the place where he jumped off the ship and on the water to save that stranger on the water. You peek on the water, trying to see them. You yell someone to shine light on the water.

Soon the light hits them, you order someone to go and get them.

Soon Charles and the mystery man are on the ship.

"Charles, what the hell!"

"I couldn't let him drown"

You sigh, putting your fingers against your nose. Then you shake your head and drag the both men towards your ship cabin.

"Sit down" You could care less that they're dripping wet.

"Now, who are you?" You ask the mystery man.

"I'm Erik Lehnsherr"

"Alright, nice to meet you"

"But what the hell we're you doing, trying to stop that submarine?"

"It had someone.. from my past inside it"

"Ah, I see and you thought your metal controlling powers could stop that submarine?"

"Well, yes"

"You know you can tell us anything you want to, we can be trusted"

"How so?"

"I also am just like you"

"Wait you're a mutant as well?"

"Yes, and as Charles surely assured you already, you're not alone"

Erik lets out relieved laugh.

#charles xavier x reader #charles xavier #xmen #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lehnsherr

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renmackree · 9 months

Note

For the prompt game - 126 for college!Stiles using Derek's insta DMs as a notes app

I was a Teenaged Mothman part 4 of ???? One day, one day this will be a fic.

Prompt me up!: Open

126. “we’re quite literally fugitives of the state.” - “so no pizza?”

Stiles was laying on his bed with the packet of paper in front of him. He flipped another page open and began circling words in bright red ink and adding little notations on the edge of the paper. He glanced up at the clock, sighing even deeper as he tapped the pen against his lips. It was nearly midnight and he still hadn't heard anything from Lydia on if she was coming home tonight. His roommate had found a new 'fresh face' at the bar and was trying them out before seeing if they were worthy of the great Lydia Martin ride. He had been thinking about just texting her, but the last time that happened the partner she was with had suggested a threesome.

Stiles loves Lydia to death, but no. He was far more interested in someone else right now anyways.

"We’re quite literally fugitives of the state," Steven Dex said on the TV, Stiles' eyes moving to the screen. He had put on one of the Mothman movies (specifically I Was a Teenaged Mothman Too) and couldn't help but smile as Derek Hale's character came on screen.

"So no pizza?" Erik Weizer asked, Stiles mouthing the line along with the actor.

Stiles tossed the Dissertation from one of their potential candidates to the side and grabbed his phone. While he might not be able to text Lydia, there was someone else he could try. He wasn't sure if the man would even answer, they had only just began texting in some strange turn of events.

SS: Why did Erik Weizer always want Pizza? Did the writers just say hey, that's your one trait? Like pizza and get slammed into walls by Steven?

Stiles went back to watching the scene where Steven and Erik were tracking down where the Alpha moth had gone. It was one of the most quoted Sterik scenes in the franchise and had actually been the part where Stiles himself had started shipping them. He had actually been a little jealous of Jared Ormly who played Erik. To be that close to Derek Hale at ALL times? Yeah, that was the dream.

He heard his phone go off, checking to see if it was Lydia. Stiles jumped up in surprise, seeing Derek had texted him back. He rolled over his bed clutching his phone and kicking his feet in the most awkward and foolish way he possibly could before reading through the texts.

DH: Jared actually said a lot of those lines off the cuff. Most of our lines were improv between the two of us. DH: What movie are you watching?

Stiles grinned, typing back as fast as his fingers could go.

SS: I was a Teenaged Mothman too.

DH: Gross, that's the one where they used Jello instead of fake blood.

SS: I couldn't eat my dad's Jello salad for a year without thinking about it. He stopped making it because I laughed too hard every time he brought it out. I kept thinking about that stupid line.

DH: "His weakness is the light, quick shine it on his blood?"

SS: That's the one. Do you remember every movie's script?

The phone started to ring, Stiles sitting up and holding it out in front of him with an almost confused look. "Oh my god, who the hell calls in the year 2023?!" The name read "Derek Hale FOR REAL" and Stiles cleared his throat as he answered the phone.

"H-hey, what's up?"

"What was the last line?" Derek's voice was soft, almost like he was trying to keep quiet while talking to Stiles.

"Uh, Erik just said 'I hope you know what you're doing.'" Stiles looked up to the movie, watching as the scene shifted to a close up of Derek's character contemplating.

"I don't think any of us know what we're doing." Derek was saying the line in almost perfect sync with the TV, Stiles hearing the young 19 year old and the now 30 something murmuring in his ear. "We're teenagers, Erik. We shouldn't have to deal with this. But we will. And come morning, there will only be one Mothman left. It's him or me, and right now, I'm going to do my damndest to make sure it's me."

Stiles whistled low, letting out a chuckle. "Bravo. You're truly a thespian. Such a riveting line."

"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic, but thank you." Derek chuckled. God it was like bells ringing on a clear day and stars falling from the sky. Stiles was a fucking mess when it came to Derek Hale. "It's not the first time you've said that."

"I'll tell you you're a good actor every day. Not many people stick through a series like this and come back from the grave with a new boyfriend."

"I made them write that in to my contract. If Steven Dex is resurrected, he has to end up with Erik." Derek's phone rustled a little and he sighed. "Just like I made them remove my social media restrictions so I could answer you."

Stiles swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he licked his lips. "You.., did what?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then Derek sighed. "I couldn't respond to you because my original contract I signed when I was 15 said I couldn't respond to private DMs on social media. Laura thought it was a good idea since underage and in Hollywood, but I really was glad you found me again. I didn't think you would remember."

Again. Found him AGAIN? Stiles wracked his brain, trying to remember when in his whole life he had met Derek Hale. Wait. He met Derek Hale?? Derek Hale knew who he was the whole time???

"Uh, yeah! Of course. I was wondering why you weren't responding but. Glad we could talk now."

"I have to go, we have a press conference tomorrow. Hope you finish your paper."

"Yep! Have a good night, thanks for the call!" Stiles hung up the phone and stared at it, looking over the screen. "When the fuck did I meet Derek Hale?"

#i was a teenaged mothman #welcome to the hale mouth #inbox fanfiction #sterek #yes yes we are now getting into meat and potatoes

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juniperwoodwell · 1 year

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Prompt list yay!!

Ok so, Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader with prompt 1

Erik refuses to accept the fact that someone is in love and wants to with him, but reader refuses to back down on showing him the love and affection he deserves.

Very grumpy x sunshine fluff 😔

Love is Complicated

•••••••••••••••••••

Word count:551

Pairing:Erik Lehnsherr x GN!Reader

Warning(s):Angst.Fluff.Erik himself.

A/n: I am so sorry for taking so long, I kept rewriting it trying get it how I thought it would go. This isn't exactly what you asked for but I tried the best I could. This isn't spell checked. Hope you enjoy.

"I love you" I say softly as the wind blows over us as we sit outside watching the sunset, relaxing after a rough day. Erik looks over at him, he seemed surprised yet scared almost. He was quickly to stand up and walk away from me. Erik and I have a... complicated relationship, I do love him and in that moment I believed he needed to hear it from someone he cares about. But maybe it's too soon. "Wait. Erik," I say as I quickly get up to follow him, his stride was faster than mine when I finally caught up to him I reached for his hand. He allowed me to take it and he stopped on the spot, He kept his back to me as he looked down at our hands

"I'd like to be alone, y/n"

"I know..."

I tightened my grip on his hand and stood beside him. "I love you, Erik." My voice was determined but gentle, He turned his head to look at him, the shine of tears were being to show. "Please...Don't." He was close to falling apart, I could feel it but he hid it behind faux anger. His eyes turned dark and he let go of my hand "You should leave." He turned away from me but I swiftly placed my hand on his shoulder to keep him from leaving. He froze almost immediately "Erik. Look at me." I move in front of him so he has no choice but to, I placed my hand on the side of his face and he tried to shy away but gave in a leaned into my touch.

"Y/n...For your sake please, don't love me."

"Why not?"

"Because you will get hurt, or even worse you could die. Everyone I have ever loved has either died or left me. I am incapable of loving someone without putting them in danger."

"Oh now that just simply not true. None of those were your fault. And even if some were they were accidents. You never intentionally hurt the people you love." I place my free hand on the other side of his face, pulling him towards me gently, He took the hint and stepped in closer. His hands Lifting to rest on my waist "I don't know if I can allow myself to love someone again yet.." He sighed exhaustedly, his hard shell cracking and his vulnerability began to show, he rested his forehead against my shoulder and my arms wrapped loosely around his neck "That's okay, I'm willing to wait for you.."

Another sigh escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me into him "Why did you have to tell me you love me, I'm not able to say it back to you." He whispered sadly.

"I didn't say it to hear it back..I said it to make sure you knew." I gently run my fingers through his hair "I love you." I whisper softly as he hides his face in my neck, allowing himself to be vulnerable.

Silent tears were shed and Love was found once more. He will tell me he loves me once he's ready but I'll never stop telling him and showing him all the little ways I can love him.

#writing #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reader insert #erik lensherr imagine #erik lensherr x reader #erik lehnsherr #magneto #magneto x reader

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tealincubusspeckles · 3 months

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Concept Card

To those in the Seduce Me Community who are uninspired here are some concept ideas that you can chew on.

Overarching Theme: What made you fall in love with your love interest in the first place? Can you put them in a situation where that attribute shines through in a different scenario?

Concept A “Comfort Collaboration” Main Theme: Break the dependency 1. People like comfort characters. 2. Yet, they do not ask themselves “How can I make my partner more comfortable with me”? 3. Possible MC motive: Person who like comfort, but disregards their own boundaries to help others. Or they lack confidence to comfort another. 4. Possible resolution: the brothers or LI help MC to realize she is not as shy as she once was around them.

Concept B “Hold Down The Table” Main Theme: When Dungeons & Dragons gets weird or when players fail successfully? 1. MC, the dungeon master, gathers the brothers to test a new story on the boys. 2. MC wants to see their reactions, but also to make note of possible routes other players may choose in the story. 3. Comedy/surprising twist: Damien often rolls to seduce the most. 4. Whenever Sam attempts to flip the table the other brothers have to hold it down. “It's just a game bro! It's not that serious”. (+5 emotional damage, -3 hp) jk.

Concept C “Language Soup” Main Theme: Knowing or Lack of knowing multiple languages as a mixed raced kid. 1. MC is a mixed raced kid. 2. Often people used to tell them “You should be able to speak [insert language here]". 3. The MC knows how to a small degree. 4. Or sometimes MC forgets the correct phrase or word when stressed so they refuse to speak. Or instead of going silent they swap in another word from another language they know. Example: "Usted es kawaii" 5. The brothers are interested in learning how many languages the MC knows. 6. MC and the boys journey to building confidence in speaking the other languages. 7. Soon it becomes a week day or a weekend challenge to see who can hold the longest conversation in a certain language.

Concept D “Birthday Windows” Main Theme: Is leaving home all for love worth it? 1. Takes place after SM2 in Sam's route. 2. MC never thought she would never see her friends again. 3. Although, she is far from them and they probably forgot her by now. She can still find similar things in the Plains that remind her of home. 4. Sam surprises her with a stone/crystal slab that works like a video call! It helps her get in contact with her friends or Sam's siblings. 5. Before she uses it Sam could explain the basics of how it works. Or He can "call" Matthew up to explain it. The slab can create illusions so Mika or the background looks "human". 6. Of course! This means Mika has to lie about where she is and how she is getting "wifi". But hey! Friends! 7. Mika cannot use the slab often since it requires tons of Sam's magic to do so. 8. It was Matthew who created the idea of this method. Erik who executed the original spell. James designed the "device" and instructions to send to Mika's friends. Damien was the one to deliver said "device" saying it was a sample product Mika wanted them to be the first testers. 9. *Keep in mind dog tags reached the Abyssal Plains and Diana knows the laws of the worlds. Why? Demons know a little about human culture and trinkets.

Concept E "The Boat Is Sinking!" Main Theme: In the game "The Boat Is Sinking" players who fail to group loose (sink). 1. MC gets stuck in an old elevator alone when visiting Thr Anderson Toys Company. 2. The elevator soon drops. MC gets nervous, faints, then hits her head. 3. Mika's starts dreaming (plot hole?) 4. She gets whisked away onto a pirate ship! 5. Here she meets Captain James, Quartermaster (Second Captain) Erik, Boatswain Sam, Pilot (Navigator) Matthew, and Master Gunner Damien. 6. MC also finds out that she is a captured mermaid they kept in a tank to make a deal. 7. Apparently before she passed out she told them she could make them happy. 8. The brothers are seeking a way out from their engagement with a foreign princess. 9. How can MC help all 5 of the brothers out of the engagement. What can a mermaid not related to mermaid royalty do? Maybe some animal friends can help? Or maybe the fact her grandfather was a shapeshifting mage?

If you use any of these concepts here, AO3, fan fiction, or whatever else please tag me or comment. I would like to see them in a story at some point.

#character concept #seduce me the otome #seduce me 2 the demon war #ideas #alternate universe #credit fandom creators #credit to creator

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pullakori · 9 months

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Febuwhump 2023

Day 25. Assumed dead

TW: Questoning of one's sense of reality

When Erik returned to the school, it was almost midnight, so it wasn't surprising that the whole mansion was quiet. Even if someone was still awake, they stayed out of sight.

The day had been tiring and full of arguing with small minded humans while holding back the urge to stab them with the metal from their belts. He really should have let Hank go instead. But Erik had made a promise.

'You'll take care of my students for me, won't you?'

He hadn't answered back then, instead begging Charles not to go, not to leave him forever. But his friend's presence had dissappeared from his head no matter how he tried to hold onto it and Erik promised then, that he would do what Charles had asked from him with his last breath.

And that's why he had to be the one to speak to humans, only he could make sure that they didn't try anything and endanger the students. Even if that meant long days of whiny humans. Erik moved through the great hall, ready to collapse in his bed, but a light in the kitchen caught his eye through the door. It was better to see who was there and if it was a student, send them to bed.

As Erik made his way towards the kitchen, he could smell the sweet and bitter sent of cocoa and a sudden ache flared in his heart. It brought back too many memories of late evenings he and Charles had spent together in 1962. But he ignored it as well as he could and kept walking just before he made it to the slightly ajar door and heard it. Humming. Quiet and yet so familiar.

Erik all but slammed the door open and was frozen in place by the scene in front of him. The kitchen was warmly lit and at the stove, there was a kettle that most likely held the cocoa. But what truly shook him to his core was the man who was standing on his tiptoes so he could reach the cups on the upper shelf.

Charles looked just like he had the first time Erik had met him. Too long hair, comfortable old fashioned clothes and when he turned around and saw Erik, the same bright smile that made his eyes shine.

"Erik!" The younger man exclaimed and put the mug in his hand on the table, before turning back to the shelf. "Perfect timing, the cocoa is almost ready and I didn't really want to sit here alone." He chatted, seemilngly unaware of Erik's bewildered state.

This wasn't real, Erik thoughg to himself. He must have fallen asleep in his car and dreamed arriving back to the school. There was no other explanation. Unless this was a cruel joke by Mystique, but there was no way she would do this to Erik. Or maybe Erik had started to hallucinate.

"Erik, is everything alright?" Charles asked, he had gotten another mug for Erik from the cupboard and turned back to look at the other man, his eyes curious.

"Mystique?" Erik forced his mouth to work, just in case this was actually the shapeshifter, as he took few steps in the room. She certainly would know how to act like Charles. But the confused expression he was given was so spot on, he became sure that this was his friend. Or at least a memory of him.

"No? But should I be conserned that you think my sister might be disguising as me?" Charles asked, before his eyes became somewhat distant and he shook his head, smiling. "It's been a long time since she last did that."

While Charles seemed to be stuck in a far away memory, Erik pinched himself, because either he was dreaming of hallucinating and hopefully that would help him know which one. The pain stung his arm and it became clear, that he was, indeed, awake. The fact didn't comfort him at all. Damn, he needed some sleep.

"You look tired." Charles noticed, sounding conserned "Why don't you sit down and I pour us our cocoa." He pointed at one of the chairs at the table, before he moved to ket the kettle. Erik noticed himself following the suggestion only when he sat down on said seat.

"It's been difficult to keep this place together." He spoke up, suddenly fighting against tears. "I miss you every day." He confessed. This might not have been real Charles, but he had to say it. He wanted Charles to know.

Charles brought him the cup of cocoa before he sat down beside him with his own.

"You speak like I don't live here." He teased and Erik had to make sure, that he wouldn't lose his sense of reality entirely.

"But you don't." He noted, turning to look at the mirage of Charles. "You're not really here."

"What are you on about? Of course I am." Charles insisted, but there was a small tension in his voice.

"No Charles. You've been gone for years." Erik argued to remind himself that this wasn't real. He just hadn't expected Charles to look so heartbroken by his words.

"Erik... Why would you say that?" He asked, his voice trembling and Erik's first instinct was to try to comfort him. But there was no reason to do that. Charles wasn't real.

"Because it's the truth. You are not here." Erik told him and watched as Charles pushed himself up from the chair, looking almost afraid.

"Don't do this Erik." He begged, almost sobbed, tears gathering in his eyes. "Please don't make me leave. I don't want to wake up..."

"No!" Erik yelled. He had to stay strong or he would go completely mad. "You're not here! You're just in my head! This is not real!" Erik shouted with as much conviction as he could muster.

There was one last sob that seemed to echo in the room that turned dark and for a second, Charles' appearance changed. He looked older, tired with dark circles under his eyes, his head shaved and his skin gaunt and sickly pale, his clothes were just what reminded Erik of a hospital gown and it revealed his severly underweight body. And the worst of all, he looked at Erik with complete hopelessness.

And in a blink of an eye, the image of the telepath was gone, along with the smell of cocoa. The kitchen was dark and there was no mugs on the table or kettle on the stove. The whole room was asleep just like the rest of the manor.

But Erik was wide awake. The picture of Charles burned into his mind. There was no reason why he would have imagined Charles looking like that and his friend's words now rang in his ears. I don't want to wake up. It had to be true.

Charles was still alive and he had tried to reach out for Erik.

#i'm actually impressed with myself how quickly i managed to write this #charles whump #febuwhump 2023 #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #my writing

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