#spoiler getaway girls

[farizrz]

Welcome Teyana (you can change her name), one of playable Heroines from Getaway Girls 😘. All them are black (light, medium, deep and deepest)

[lexicook74-blog]

Zoey wade became famous famous!!

[emmiamuzeek]

[zathra]

four new black mc faces!!!!

[absurdthirst]

Property of Dave York {Dave York x F!Nanny!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: Voyeurism, video surveillance, masturbation, kidnapping, threats of violence, coercion, dub-con, derogatory language, gun play, spanking, oral sex (male receiving ) rough sex, choking, guilt, forced cuckolding, cream pie, anxiety, break up texts, murder, fingering, pussy slapping, sex toys, anal fingering, anal, double penetration, aftercare, forced imprisonment

Comments: Carol's offer of the York family cabin for a romantic weekend away for you and your boyfriend turns dark and deadly when Dave shows up. Unhappy with how you are being fucked and deciding to take you for himself.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains dark theme of coercion, dub-con due to deadly threats, murder, imprisonment - do not read if this bothers you🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Are you sure?” You ask Carol, eyes wide as she offers to let you use the family cabin for the weekend. 

“Absolutely. I'm heading out of town to see my mom with the girls. Dave will be here and we want to reward you for all of your hard work. You’re so good with the girls and do so much above and beyond. We want to reward you.” Carol offers you a sweet smile. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know what to say.” You admit and Dave smiles, “just say yes.” 

You nod, overwhelmed by how good the Yorks treat you, “th-thank you.” You reply and they both smile. It’s a reward beyond your dreams to get to spend the weekend in the woods with your boyfriend at the York family cabin. Little do you know that Dave hates the idea. 

You were hired about a year ago to be the live-in nanny to the York family. At first, they seemed like any other suburban dream but you began to notice small details that tipped off the fact that maybe Dave isn’t the man he says he is. The blood stained clothes on the floor in the mud room late one night and he told you he cut himself yet that was too much blood for an injury you couldn’t see. Then the random calls which meant Dave would disappear for days on end after. 

The weirdest thing is the man’s internet history. When trying to search the computer for Molly’s schedule, you accidentally came across a page that detailed the internet history of the house and you, being curious, clicked on some of the links. Porn. But not your average vanilla stuff. This was bondage, it was BDSM. It was rough. Fuck, that must be Dave. The time stamp was the middle of the night and you know Carol can’t survive without her sleep. 

You hate to admit it but you touched yourself to thoughts of Dave treating you like that. He’s so sexy, authoritative, and secretive. Maybe that makes him sexier. Well, certainly when compared to Johnny, your sweet boyfriend who won’t even so much as spank you. Still, you can’t get involved in any way. This is your boss and you’d be risking your job and home and a mortifying rejection since you know Dave doesn’t want you like that. No, you’ll enjoy the cabin this weekend with Johnny and maybe you can get off thinking of dirtier things while your boyfriend sweetly goes down on you.

The smile on Dave’s face is a very practiced one. One that doesn’t show the anger, that only flashes for a brief second in his eyes before he blinks it away. Carol hadn’t talked about this with him and he wants to snatch the keys away from you as his wife holds them for you to take. Instead, he smiles. “Just say yes.” He watches as you sputter and take the keys to the cabin he had bought and was normally a weekend getaway from him and the girls. Often when he needed to recuperate from a rough mission or a job had gotten too close. Why the fuck had Carol decided to give his fucking cabin to the nanny for the weekened ot use as a fucking sex room? That dipshit you were dating wouldn’t know what the fuck he was doing. Could he even build a fire? He scoffs to himself and grinds his teeth, furious as he thinks about that fucker touching you. It’s bad enough when you have weekends off and you come home smelling like sex and cheap ass beer like you were at some frat party. Probably had been. “You know how to get there, right?” He asks you, knowing he hasn’t told you where the cabin is although Carol might have. 

You nod, “Carol gave me the coordinates. Johnny is pretty good at navigating so we shouldn’t have a problem. It’s okay if I take him, right?” You ask, biting your lip. Fuck, Dave wants to say no but he knows that won’t help him. Carol can’t get suspicious of his desires otherwise you’ll be gone and he can’t allow that. “Of course you can take Johnny.” Carol promises and you grin. 

“Thank you so much.” 

Carol nods, “don’t think anything of it. It’s all set, right Dave?” 

He swallows down his annoyance, “it’s all set.” He offers you a sickly smile that has your stomach knotting and Carol pats his hand, “excellent.” She winks and you grip the keys, eager to tell your boyfriend about the weekend away.

****

“You girls be good for your mother, and grandma and grandpa, okay?” Dave winks at Alice and reaches out to tug on one of Molly’s pigtails. 

“Daddy!!!” Molly shrieks, batting his hand away as she giggles and he chuckles. 

“I mean it.” He raises his eyebrows at them before moving up to the driver’s side window where Carol is already behind the wheel. “Drive carefully, honey.” He urges, knowing that while he might not love her like he probably should, she is important to him. Plus he wants his girl’s to be safe. While he feels like there is something missing inside him, not able to really connect with his wife, he loves his children. “Call me when you get to your moms.” He leans in and presses his lips to hers quickly before he pulls away. His plans for the weekend have changed and he needs his wife to leave on time, so he had helped her pack up the Mercedes. 

**** 

“Wow. This place is sweet.” Johnny grins as you enter the cabin. He’s carrying your travel bag and you admire the decor of the cabin. It’s simple but rustic and you love it. You love being out in the woods, the sound of nature, and of course, being there with your boyfriend. He’s sweet and kind and everything you should want and this weekend you’re going to try and remind yourself of that. Johnny sets your bags down, reaching for you to pull you close, his hands squeezing your ass. “And the best thing is not having to sneak around. We have the whole weekend to do whatever we want.” Johnny kisses along your neck and you smirk, knowing he’s eager to touch you. Has been since you left the York house.

The rustic charm of the house hides the sophisticated camera system. Hidden discreetly in areas that won’t be noticed by anyone who isn’t a trained operative. Carol had never noticed. Now, Dave watches you, glaring at the screen of his laptop as your boyfriend gropes your ass and slides his hand up to cup your tit as he tries to steer you back towards the sofa. “Asshole.” He hisses, jealous that you let this fucker touch you. His cock twitches, making him reach down to palm himself through his pants as he imagines himself with you on that couch. Showing you what getting fucked should be like. 

You let Johnny lay you down on the sofa and he’s quick to remove your shirt, tossing it down and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, exposing your tits unknowingly to Dave’s gaze until Johnny takes your nipple into his mouth, making you moan. “Fuck. That’s good.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he sucks but it’s not hard enough, not rough enough.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, reaching up to slide the end from the belt buckle. His cock throbbing in his pants and he’s already decided that he’s going to jerk off, watching you get fucked by this pathetic excuse for a boy. There’s nothing really wrong with Johnny, Dave hates him solely because he wants you. Wants to use you and show you what you really want when you look at him with those searching eyes. Pulling his hard cock out, Dave spits in his hand and starts to smear it over the sensitive head. 

When Johnny slides inside of you, he’s asking if you’re comfortable and you want to roll your eyes. “Fuck.” He hisses in pleasure at how wet and tight you are and you want him to squeeze your throat. You want him to fuck you like it’s your last day on earth. You want him to ruin you but he won’t. You wrap your legs around him, trying to push him deeper. “Fuck baby. You’re so wet.” Johnny groans and you want to be spiteful and tell him you were thinking about Dave being in this cabin, imagining him fucking you, wrecking you.

Dave strokes his cock, hard and fast as he imagines how tight you would be. The squeals he would pull from you would be much better than those damn fake moans you are putting on for him. “You would cry for me.” He grunts, watching you wrap your legs around him. He wonders if Johnny actually buys your moans, if he believes that you are actually enjoying yourself. His cock is slick in his hand, gripping it harshly as he jerks off. 

“Oh my God, I’m cumming!” You cry, throwing your head back as you grip him inside of you, faking yet another orgasm. You moan, glancing up at the ceiling, letting out another fake moan as you wait for Johnny to cum inside of you. He’s grunting, his face buried in your neck, and you whimper, “cum for me baby.” You try to egg him on, squeezing his cock in your walls and you moan his name. 

“Gonna cum. Gonna cum.” He groans, thrusting into you a half dozen more times before he cums.

Dave grunts, holding his breath as he starts to cum. Ropes of his sticky seed coating the towel he had covering the steering wheel of his car as he cums. Stroking himself through the high and watching you as you lay under Johnny limply, helping him ride out his orgasm while very obviously not experiencing your own. He wouldn’t let that happen. Milking the last drops of his release before he sits back in the seat and pants, making up his mind on what he will do next. 

You are cooking when you hear the noise. Confused by the clicking sound and you turn the stove off and on again, wondering if that’s the noise. “Johnny?” You call out, wondering where he is. He isn’t usually this quiet. He’s usually annoying you by now, wanting to incessantly talk about his video games or the latest thing he read on Reddit. You turn off the stove, the pasta sauce is cooked anyway, and you will probably find Johnny lounging on the sofa. “Johnny, baby. I-” You scream, finding Johnny tied to a chair and a gag in his mouth.

A hand comes around your mouth, covering it and hot breath washes over your ear. “Ah ah ah, no screaming baby, not yet.” Dave hums in your ear, grinning at the furious expression on your boyfriend’s face. “Your boyfriend didn’t even lock the fucking door. Anyone could have wandered into the cabin.”

Your eyes widen at hearing Dave’s voice in your ear. Your heart pounds in both fear and arousal. His body is pressed against yours and you shiver against him. Your hands are gripping his wrist but it’s no use, he’s stronger than you. “Be calm and nothing bad happens.” He coos and lowers his hand from your mouth. 

“Please. Let - let us go. We will leave. I- I am sorry Mr. York.” You promise, aware to an extent of what he is capable of.

“What are you sorry for?” Dave asks you, “fucking on my couch? Or faking your orgasm.” He shakes his head. “It was pathetic, watching you moan like a whore when we both know you were counting down the seconds until he came and rolled off you.” He tuts and watches Johnny huff and tug against the ropes tying him to the chair in amusement. “So I decided I’m going to show him how you should be fucked.”

Your eyes widen even more and you step away from Dave. “Wha-what? I- Dave. I- don’t understand.” You shake your head and step towards Johnny. “I- I swear to you baby I had - I don’t know what he’s talking about.” You try to assure your boyfriend who is tied up and Dave chuckles, reaching for your wrists to grip them in his. 

“Don’t lie, baby. That’s not nice. You gotta tell him the truth. He doesn’t make you scream. He doesn’t make you writhe. I’ve seen it. I know it. You don’t soak his cock with your cum.” Dave declares and your cunt clenches at the deep words, the truth you’ve been too scared to say. Johnny laughs around the gag again and you wonder how the hell he’s so oblivious. 

“He’s not wrong.” You confess in a whisper.

Dave smirks and looks over at Johnny smugly. “Strip off your clothes.” Dave orders, squeezing your wrists before letting go. “First, I’m going to punish you for letting this boy touch you. You could have just asked and I would have bent you over my desk every night after Carol and the girls were asleep. Or maybe the washing machine in the basement. That way you don’t wake them up with your squealing.” He chuckles as he steps back and reaches for the hem of his shirt. “You cleaned his cum out of your cunt, didn’t you?”

You nod, knowing this is so wrong. It’s so wrong. You can’t fuck Dave in front of your boyfriend. “I- I showered.” You confess and swallow harshly at the sight of Dave shirtless, several scars litter his skin from his past and it attracts you to him even more. 

“I told you to strip.” Dave orders and you shake your head, “I can’t do it.” You choke, knowing this is wrong. Dave shakes his head, reaching into the back of his pants to pull out a gun. 

“If you don’t strip, I’m gonna spread your boyfriend’s brains over the carpet and no one will ever find him.” Your eyes widen, looking at Johnny’s frantic, scared look, and you know Dave doesn’t fuck around. You reach for your shirt, starting to strip off with shaking hands.

Dave watches as your plain bra is revealed, smirking when you reach behind you and shakily unclasp it. “Those are nice tits.” He hums. “Your boyfriend should have sucked on them more. Bitten them and pulled on them.” His cock twitches in his pants and grunts, “I will. Maybe I’ll get some clamps out for them. Make them really sore.”

You whimper at his words, avoiding the glare from your boyfriend who is shaking his head. He never sucks on your tits, always gets right to fucking you. Sometimes he will go down on you but it’s too sweet. It doesn’t make you gasp and writhe. You toss your bra down and hook your fingers in your leggings, pushing them down and kicking them aside so you are left in your panties. 

“Ah ah ah. All of it.” Dave tuts as he pulls his belt through the loops. You look at Johnny as you push your panties down, the gun is still in Dave’s hand so you kick the underwear aside to stand bare before Dave.

“You don’t deserve her.” Dave turns his comment towards Johnny. Shaking his head in disappointment. “She shouldn’t be able to walk, let alone make dinner after you fuck her.” He slaps the belt against his palm and smirks. “Shouldn’t be able to move.” He flicks open the button of his pants and motions to the couch. “Bend over. I’m going to spank you for fucking on my couch.”

You shake your head, glancing over at Johnny and Dave tuts, pointing the gun at the younger man. “Do you want me to blow his brains out?” You shake your head frantically and move over to the sofa, kneeling on it as you shiver in anticipation for what Dave is going to do to you, knowing it’s so wrong to already be turned on.

You shake your head, “please Dave.” You beg and he smacks your ass again. 

“Call me sir.” He demands and you nod, “sir.” He hums in delight and rubs your ass, making you arch your back. 

“Fuck. I need more.” You tell him, finally letting your desires escape, the ones you’ve concealed for so long.

He pauses for a second, grinning in triumph. “I knew you were perfect.” He groans, pulling his hand back so he can whip your ass with the belt, “you need me. Not some pussy.” He hisses, striking your ass every other work in quick succession.

You cry out. arching your back at the pain, but fuck if your cunt doesn't clench at the sensation. "Oh shit." You pant, trying to catch your breath while Dave caresses your ass. You inhale deeply. ignoring the pained look on Johnny's face as he helplessly watches.

“You like it, don’t you?” Dave asks as he draws back for another slap of the belt against your ass. “Don’t lie.”

“I love it.” You confess, unable to lie to him. He’s tearing you apart and you are unraveling for him, telling him your deepest darkest secrets. You cry out when he hits you again with the belt, your skin is on fire and you pant, trying to catch your breath.

Dave groans, smirking as he flicks the belt against your ass again. “Knew you would love it.” He hisses, his cock twitching in his pants. “You’re fucking dirty, my little whore.”

You collapse forward onto your elbows, ass aching. And you struggle to breathe, knowing it’s true. You’ve always been his. “Yes, I- I- fuck. I’m your dirty little whore.” You whimper, closing your eyes to ignore the hurt look on Johnny’s face, concealed by the gag.

Dave chuckles and drops his hand, reaching out and caressing the welts that are on your ass. “Get on your knees.” He orders you rightly, “I want you to suck my cock. Show you me how much you regret him touching you.”

It’s getting impossible to deny him, the guilt pushed aside by arousal as you shift onto your knees and hiss at the sting when your thighs press against your ass. You look up at Dave as he fumbles to pull his cock out, gun still in one hand, and when he manages to get his hard length out, your eyes widen. Fuck, he’s huge. Your mouth falls open in shock and he grips his length, playfully swiping the head along your lips until you take him into your mouth.

Dave groans as you take him deep, rolling his hips forward. “Fuck.” He hisses, watching as your lips stretch around his cock. He loves it, your eyes starting to water slightly as he pushes himself deeper.

You choke but he doesn’t pull back, continuing to push his cock down your throat, and he grabs the back of your head to stop you pulling off of him. “Take it all.” He demands and you gag but inhale deeply through your nose, concentrating on taking all of him.

You swallow and struggle but you manage to press your nose against the curls above his cock. Making him groan happily as he holds your head there for a long moment before he pulls back. Wanting to fuck your throat, use you for his pleasure, although he’s not filling your mouth with his seed. No. He’s saving that for your pussy. Wanting to replace your loser boyfriend’s seed with his and watch it drip from your folds.

You choke on your breath when Dave pulls his cock back, barely able to catch it as he pushes deep down your throat again. “Fuck. Oh fuck.” He hisses and you are dripping onto the floor as you watch him with watery eyes, loving the way he clenches his jaw. The gun is still in his hand. He looks deadly and that turns you on more than anything Johnny has ever done.

He can tell this excites you. The way that you lean into his thrusts into your mouth and the way that your thighs spread tell him how much you love this. In a few minutes he will be able to see your cunt drooling into the floor, your arousal leaking out of you and dripping down like the little slut that he knows you are.

You whimper around him, saliva dripping down your chin, and when he hisses your name, you slide your hands up to caress his thighs. He allows it, watching you with those dark eyes you’ve dreamed of far too often and you whine when he pulls his cock from your mouth after several moments.

“Get up and bend over the couch.” Dave growls, slapping his cock on the side of your cheek. “Want to cum inside you. after you’ve screamed my name so much that your throat is raw.”

You scramble onto the sofa, desperate to feel him inside of you, to get fucked the way you desperately want to get fucked. You look over at Johnny who has tears in his eyes and you mouth “I’m sorry.” It’s useless but you still want him to know how sorry you are. You’re an eager whore for Dave but he didn’t deserve to get caught in the mess.

Pushing his pants down, he kicks them off and kneels behind you. The barrel of the gun slides up your drenched slit and he chuckles when you stiffen. “I could fuck you with this gun. Click the safety off and shove the barrel in your cunt,” he coos, loving how you whimper. “But I’d rather feel you around me first.” He pulls the barrel back and presses it against your puckered hole. “Maybe next time.” He guides himself to your cunt with his other hand and only pulls the gun completely away when he snaps his hips forward and fills you up.

Your gasp echoes in the cabin, shocked at the abrupt way he fills you, stretching you out, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Equal parts painful and pleasurable. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. “Oh fuck.” You choke, unable to breath as he doesn’t give you a chance to adjust around him before he’s pulling out to set a harsh pace, pounding into you like it’s the last thing he will ever do.

Dave hisses at how tight you get, pressing his hand on your lower back when you arch it up. “Fuck, that’s it. God, you love this don’t you?” He chuckles and glances over at where Johnny is sobbing in the chair. “This is what you should have done. You should feel how fucking tight she gets every time I rock into her.” He smirks. “But you won’t, because you can’t fuck her like I can.” He slaps your ass and thrusts harder into you, the slapping of his hips against your ass filling the cabin.

You cry out, his words shouldn’t turn you on but they do. It’s true. Johnny has never fucked you like this. It’s animalistic and you’re fucking breathless, panting as he slams his hips against yours over and over again, gun still in hand as he runs the barrel along your back.

“That’s it, taking it like the little slut you are.” Dave growls, enjoying the way you clench down around him. “My slut. Your cunt needed a real cock inside it. A man who isn’t afraid to hurt you, wants to hurt you.” He groans when you squeal and concentrates on that angle as he plows into you.

“Fuck! Fuck!” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushes deep inside of you, making you fall forward onto your elbows as you can’t remain upright on your hands anymore. “Yes. You. Needed you.” You know it’s wrong but you’re lost in the haze of lust and you can’t see Johnny’s heartbroken look as you wantonly moan for Dave.

Dave growls, loving how you just admitted that in front of your pathetic boyfriend. “You look so good.” He pants out, “split open on my cock. Be a good girl and cum and then I’m really going to make you squeal.”

You can’t hold back, even if you tried, you cry out when he smacks your ass again and you cum, clamping down on his cock and soaking him. You bite your lip, trying to smother your moan because you know Johnny is still watching you.

Dave growls, pissed that you would try to muffle your moans, and he reaches back to grab your shoulder, pulling you back against his chest. “Don’t you fucking bite your lip.” He huffs. “Or I’ll shoot your boyfriend and the last thing he will ever see is you cumming on my cock,”

You hate that his words make you clamp down even more on his cock. He’s so commanding, it makes you soak him, and he grabs your jaw, forcing you to release your lip. “I’m sorry.” You gasp, to both Dave and Johnny. The fact that you are getting fucked by another man in front of your sweet boyfriend has your heart breaking but your body is aching for Dave.

Dave huffs. Sliding his gun hand down as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, the barrel nudging your clit and he smirks when you gasp and your body reacts. “No you aren’t. You love this. You wanted my cock for so long.” He tells you. “You don’t think I didn’t know you searched my history? Saw what I was into? What I imagined doing to you?”

You would be mortified that he knew you’d seen the videos but he’s making your fantasies come true right now and you can’t stop yourself from enjoying the way he fucks up into you, the cold barrel of the gun nudging your clit enough to make you moan again. “I- fuck - it was so filthy. The - the choking. The spanking. I- I want that so much.” You admit, knowing Johnny wasn’t capable of giving that to you.

“You’re gonna get it.” He promises, feeling your cunt start to relax and he pulls out of you to turn you on your back. Throwing your legs back up into his shoulders, Dave wastes no time slamming back into you to start pounding you into the couch like he imagined when he was watching Johnny fucking you, folding you over to make sure he can plunge deep.

“Shit. Oh shit.” You squeal, he’s so deep inside of you. You feel like he’s in your guts. “Fuck baby. Oh fuck.” You sob, sounding authentic, not faking it like you did with Johnny. “Oh my God.” You whine, cupping your tits as he fucks you like it’s his last day on earth.

“That’s it, fuck, you’re so slutty.” Dave hisses, loving the way your cunt just floods his cock with your juices, every time he thrusts into you more coats him. It’s dripping down his thighs and his balls. Reaching up, he slaps your cheek lightly, not enough to hurt you. “My whore.” He growls, grabbing your throat and squeezing like he had imagined so many times. He could never do this to Carol, she didn’t like anything but basic lovemaking, but you are different. You will give him what he needs.

You grip his forearm as he fucks into you, making you moan and writhe. He grips your neck a little tighter and it cuts off some of your air, making you choke but your cunt squeezes his cock. You love this. It’s filthy and everything you’ve ever wanted.

“You love this.” He coos mocking, grinning over at where your boyfriend has his eyes closed. “Open your fucking eyes.” He orders, pointing the gun back at Johnny and his pace falters slightly. “Watch her get fucked. Every second of my cock inside you, you watch. Knowing you can’t give her this.”

You gasp, hating that you’re so turned on by his authority, and you whimper when he hits something incredible inside of you. Johnny opens his eyes, the look in them is heartbroken and it kills you to know that it’s over between you. He’d never want you now and you don’t know if you would want him after experiencing Dave. “Shit. Shit. I’m gonna cum.” You squeal, feeling how close you are.

Gritting his teeth, your squeal just makes him rock into you harder. Wanting to see how hard you cum, Dave holds the gun up to your head and pulls the trigger.

Fuck, it’s wrong. It’s so wrong. But you cum when he pulls the trigger. The way your life flashes before your eyes as you wonder if he’s just killed you only to hear the click of the trigger and nothing else. It’s the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to you and you gush, soaking him with your cum as you sob his name.

Dave groans, feeling your cum soak him. Making him hiss, flexing his finger and dropping the gun as he lunges forward. Folding you over as he presses his lips to yours and buries his cock deep as he can get it, coating your walls in hot ropes of his seed.

You pant against his mouth, hands wrapping around his shoulders, and you pull him even closer, “Dave. Dave. Dave.” You whine into his mouth, his cock twitching inside of you and he pushes his cum out of you with each rock of his hips.

He practically grins against your lips in satisfaction. Feeling you pull him closer is his personal triumph, getting you to admit that you need what he gives you. Riding out his orgasm before he pulls back to see your body just sag into the couch as he admires his cum starting to well up in your abused pussy.

You open your eyes, looking up at Dave as he shifts off of you, leaning back to admire his cum after pulling out of your cunt. “That’s how you’re supposed to fuck her. That’s how she should look. Wrecked. Ruined.” Dave tells Johnny who is crying, blinking to stop himself from closing his eyes, fearful of Dave despite the gun being set aside.

Dave stands, starting to pull his clothes back on and picks up his gun. “You drove up here, so I’m going to take Johnny down to the bus station.” He tells you. “Safe to say he won’t be staying.”

You are too dazed to really think about it. You nod, knowing you will have to call Johnny and break up formally but you doubt he will ever talk to you again. "I'm sorry Johnny." You whisper, watching Dave untie him from the chair but not ungag your boyfriend who looks equal parts disgusted and scared. You know Dave will send him on his way and then you have no clue what will happen next. You can only hope that he fucks you again.

“Stay here.” Dave shoves Johnny towards the door but doesn’t give him a chance to stop and look at you. Opening the door and pushing him outside before locking it behind him. “Don’t worry.” Dave chuckles quietly as the other man starts to struggle against the rope around his hands. “I won’t leave her alone too long.”

You sigh, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. The guilt is creeping up on you but the ache in your body pushes it aside. You’ve never been so satisfied and you’re eager for Dave to return, wondering what the next steps are. Part of you worries if he will kill you. You know he’s capable of it. Part of you wonders if he will simply leave you out here to make your way home.

Dave drives Johnny five miles away from the cabin, turning down an old dirt road that leads to an abandoned property. “You don’t have to worry.” Dave chuckles as he parks the car. “Everything will be fine.” He gets out and rounds the car, pulling an increasingly frantic Johnny out. “Shut up.” He hisses, pushing him up against the car and searching for his phone. He smirks when he pulls it out of his left pocket. “You are going to break up with her. Tell her that you never want to see her again.” He chuckles and puts the now loaded gun up to his temple and urges him away from the car. “Let me show you where I’m going to dump your body.” He taunts. “There’s a very nice, dry well. Perfect for you to rot in.”

Johnny cries, sobbing as Dave pushes him towards the well and he knows he has one chance to fight. He spins around, trying to knock the gun from Dave’s hand and he succeeds, deciding to run. He sprints, his hands still bound, and he can barely breathe with the gag in his mouth. “Fucker.” Dave hisses, scrambling to pick up the gun to run after the younger man. When he catches up, he aims and shoots him in the head, watching the body fall to the ground. “Had to make it messy, huh?” Dave huffs as he drags his body to the well. No one would find Johnny.

After he’s unlocked Johnny’s phone with the Face ID, he shoves the body into the well and smirks as he flips through your texts. Frowning slightly when he sees the exchange where he had been trying to convince you to leave your job with the girls, wanting you to move in with him. “Asshole.” He hisses, angrily typing out the breakup message to you, signaling the end of your relationship permanently. After he sends the message, he blocks your number and shuts the phone down, throwing it into the well, along with his body and hums to himself as he walks back to his car. Now he just needs to deal with you.

You stumble from the bathroom, having peed and cleaned up, when you hear your phone ding. Picking it up, you frown when you see the message from Johnny and open it. 

I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Knowing you’ve been his whore and let him fuck you shows what kind of person you are. You are disgusting and I never want to see you again. I hope he satisfies your slutty needs and he’s gonna break your heart. Good luck. 

The message makes you tear up, not able to refute his claims that Dave will break your heart. You know that. He’s probably on his way back now to do just that. You pull on your shirt and panties and sit on the sofa, typing a message back. 

I’m so sorry, Johnny. I do love you. He just gave me what I needed. Can we please talk? I don’t want to end things like this. You hit send and the message never says delivered. He’s blocked you. That makes you cry, mourning the safe, yet boring relationship you had with Johnny.

Pulling back up to the cabin, Dave is happy to see your car still there. Scoffing to himself because Johnny had been happy to let you whisk him away rather than him doing it to you. Knowing it’s slightly sexist, but he doesn’t give a shit. You need a man to take care of you, and Dave is going to be that man. “I’m back.” He announces, walking back into the main room and frowning when he sees you crying. “What’s wrong?”

You sniff, wiping your eyes when you see Dave. “Johnny broke up with me.” You gesture to your phone and Dave wants to roll his eyes. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” He asks and you bite your lip. 

“I- I don’t know. I feel guilty. I- I fucked you in front of my boyfriend and now he’s - oh God. Carol. And the girls. I- shit.” You start to panic, realizing how wrong this all is.

“Don’t.” Dave shakes his head, sitting down and reaching out for you. He doesn’t care about what you are feeling but he has to pretend like he does. “Fuck that loser, or- don’t fuck him. He couldn’t make you cum. And Carol isn’t going to find out about this.”

“How do you know? I - I can’t look her in the eyes when we go back home. She- she’s gonna know. I can feel it. Oh God. This was so wrong. You shouldn’t have done this. You were supposed to be at home and now I- fuck.” You cling to him, soaking his shirt with your tears.

“Hush.” Dave insists, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. Some people just can’t have a poker face and you are one of them. Not that it matters. His hand slides down into your panties and he pinches your clit. “Don’t think about it.” He growls. “Think about what I’m going to do to you right now. In my bed.”

You choke on your sob, his fingers rubbing your clit has you whimpering. The alternations between pinching and rubbing make you moan and your tears run down your cheeks but you stop sobbing. “Fuck. Dave.” You whine, turning your head to kiss his neck.

“That’s it, concentrate on how much you want it.” He groans, his flaccid cock twitching. He always has wanted to fuck someone after he’s killed and he’s going to get to, the gunpowder still fresh on his skin. “You need it. You need what I’m going to do to you.” He bites down roughly on your shoulder, sure that his teeth will leave impressions through your shirt.

"I do. I really do." You gasp, grinding down onto his fingers. He smells like smoke, something you can't put your finger on, but you love it. It smells like Dave. "More. Need more." You whine and cry out when he slaps your cunt with his palm. 

"Patience." He demands and you whimper, "please Dave."

Dave smirks, enjoying how eager you are for him. He pushes a finger deep inside your cunt and curls it up. “When I am here, you are to wear nothing.” He orders harshly, pumping his finger before adding another. “You will be ready to take my cock in whatever hole I want to fuck.”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll be ready. I’ll be ready. I’m yours. Have been yours. Just - I need more.” You beg, lost in the pleasure to really take note of his words. You reach out to squeeze his cock through his pants, wanting more of him.

Dave growls, rocking his hips up, “take your fucking shirt off before I cut it off.” He demands, wanting to bite and suck on your tits. Eager to leave his teeth marks on your skin. To make you feel him when he leaves tonight. He pushes his fingers deep and rough. “Now.”

You scramble to follow his order, pulling the shirt over your head to expose your tits to his hungry gaze. He surges down to bite down on your nipple, making you cry out in both pleasure and pain. His fingers curl deep inside of you and you’re so close. He unravels you impossibly fast until finally, you clamp down on his digits, his teeth buried in your breast.

Dave groans in delight, feeling his teeth break the skin and the coppery tang of your blood floods his taste buds. Not enough to really do damage but from the way you clench around him, you love it.

You pant as he slows his fingers, letting you enjoy your orgasm and your eyes are still closed when he tells you to look at him. “You’re mine now.” 

You nod, “I’m yours. I- I always have been.” You tell him truthfully.

“Good.” Dave pulls his fingers out of your cunt and shoves them into your mouth, nearly gagging you. “Now, your going to go into the bedroom and spread yourself on my bed, I need to get the toy you will have in your cunt while I fuck your ass.”

You shouldn’t shake with anticipation but you’ve never done anal before. None of your boyfriends were interested in the prep work and you wonder if Dave is the same. If he’s gonna just try to stick it in. You stand on shaky legs and make your way to the bed, kneeling on it and spreading your knees to display your cunt and puckered hole.

When he had come into the cabin, he had dropped a duffel bag near the door. All the supplies he needs inside, he unzips it, removing a toy, a bottle of lube and the handcuffs. The collar and chain are left in the bottom, along with the padlocks he had brought to secure the cabin. Taking them into the bedroom, he grunts in satisfaction when he sees you kneeling. “Has anyone every fucked your ass?”

You shake your head. “No. No one has.” You admit, hissing when he smacks your ass over the welts that are still sensitive from his rough treatment earlier. “You can. I want you to. Just - just be gentle.” You plead, knowing he won’t but maybe he will consider it.

He snorts, pulling your hands behind your back and slapping the cuffs on them. “Depends on how good you are for me.” He won’t be too rough, he wants you to anticipate him fucking you rather than trying to shy away. Leaning over and grinning, Dave spits on your puckered hold and reaches out to massage it into your skin.

"Shit." You hiss at the new sensation. No one has done this to you and you already fucking love it. "Fuck Dave." You pant when he pushes his finger a little deeper inside of you.  "I'll be good." You promise, arching your back and your abused cunt clenches around nothing.

“I know you will.” Dave coos, pulling his finger out and coating it with lube so he can push it back inside you. “You know what I’m capable of. What I could do to you.” He chuckles when your tight hole clenches around his digits. “You like that I’m a killer.”

You can’t deny it. It turns you on to know what he’s capable of. “Oh fuck baby. Yes. Yes I do.” You confess, “I love it. I want you to be the one to fuck my ass.” You tell him breathlessly and you gasp when he adds another finger to stretch you out.

The sounds are slick and you aren’t pulling away as he starts to pump and scissor two fingers inside your ass. Making him groan at the sight of your clenching cunt. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you are nice and filled up.” He grins, picking up the dildo he had formed from his own cock using one of those kits. “My cock will be the last one you have inside you. Even a toy.”

You hear him squirt lube onto the dildo and you gasp when you feel the silicone press against your cunt. You moan when he starts to push the toy inside of you. “Oh fuck!” You squeal, trying to relax around the girth and you realize that the toy is as thick as Dave.

He chuckles, admiring the way your lips stretch around the toy. “You look good like this, even better when my cock is in your ass.” He taunts.

You pant as he works the toy in and out of you, his fingers scissoring your ass open and you collapse forward, resting your cheek on the sheets, your fingers flexing in the handcuffs. “Please, baby. I need you inside of me.”

He chuckles again and pulls his fingers out of your ass. “You’re ready to be full, huh?” He slaps your ass, leaving the toy inside your cunt as he slathers his cock in lube. He wants it to be slick, for himself and for you taking his cock in your ass for the first time. 

“Yes.” You whimper, making him smirk as he slaps your ass and shuffles closer.

You pant as he presses the head of his cock against your puckered hole and you hold your breath as he starts to push inside of you. It hurts, but you can handle it. His hand caresses your back, “breathe.” He orders and you exhale shakily, inhaling deeply on the next breath. He’s so thick it stings but you want this. You try to relax so you can take as much of him as possible.

Unlike the first time he pushed inside your cunt, Dave takes his time. Works himself an inch at a time. Aware that this is new, plus you still have the toy filling up the other hole on the other side of the thin skin. He can feel the ridges in the silicone and he groans as he rocks into you. “Fuck- fuck you’re going to be so good for me? Taking this cock and a toy aren’t you? You’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

You nod, “yes. Whatever you want. I love - I love it.” You tell him, groaning when he starts to move inside of you. “Yes. Oh yes baby.” You pant when he starts to move faster and he’s gripping the toy, working that in and out too. It’s more than you’ve ever felt and you are already on the edge.

“Fuck, fuck you’re so-“ Dave groans, gritting his teeth and biting off his words when you spasm around him, close to cumming already. “Shiiiit.” He hisses, rocking his hips faster, slapping them against your ass as he works up to a frantic pace.

You squeal when he picks up the pace, pushing into you over and over again. “Yes. Yes! Keep - keep going. Keep going. I - fuck. You’re gonna make me - Dave. Oh Dave!” You clamp down on the toy, squeezing it inside of your walls and you squeeze Dave, shaking as you sob into the sheets at the intensity of your orgasm.

“God, you’re such a perfect little slut.” Dave groans, slowing down and rocking his hips a lot slower than before. He wants you exhausted by the time he is done with you. He needs you to sleep while he closes up the house. “That’s good baby, fuck, you’re so tight.” He praises, caressing your spine. “Want you to cum again. You’re gonna come for me again.”

You recover against the bedsheets, trying to catch your breath while Dave caresses your spine, until he starts to fuck you again. This time, he’s slower. Not as rushed as he rocks his hips, and you try to grind back onto him, arms aching from the handcuffs but you daren’t ask him to remove them.

Looking down, he watches his cock move inside you. Aware that he is recording this very moment on the camera system to keep and watch back whenever he wants. “Gonna fuck you every week.” He groans, twitching inside you. “First you’re going to suck my cock. Kneel down and take my cock down your throat while I finish up work.” He tells you, like he’s explaining how things will go. Because he is. “Then I’m going to fuck your cunt full.”

"Oh God." His words make you burn and you want that, you want him. Every fucking day. "Yes. Yes. My pussy is yours, Dave. I belong to you." You promise, tears stinging in your eyes as your wildest dreams come true. "I need you. I need this."

“You are mine.” He groans, rocking his hips faster and he reaches around you to slap your clit and rub it harshly. “Forever. You’re mine. Mine. You’re going to give me more kids.”

You wonder if he’s just babbling or if he means it. It’s hard to not give into the fantasy. You want him to knock you up, claim you in every way. But you know that if you were lucid, you would be terrified to get knocked up by a married man. “Yes. Yes. Gonna have your babies. As many as you want.”

He snarls, closing his eyes and gripping your hips harshly as he starts fucking into you harshly again. Rubbing your clit in a desperate effort for you to cum again. His control slipping at your acceptance of what he has planned for you. “Yes, fuck, yes, cum for me.”

You can't deny him, clamping down on the toy that is still inside of you, while his cock pushes deep and his fingers play with your clit. "Oh my - fuck!" You scream, almost blacking out from the pleasure. This is what you've wanted, what you've craved since you started working for the Yorks. Now you've got it, your entire body is on fire.

He feels your body give out, collapsing against the bed and flattening out so he just follows you. Still fucking into your ass like a man possessed and his hand trapped between you and the bed, rubbing your clit. He growls out your name, burying his cock deep and filling you with another load of his cum, pulsing deep inside the other hole he had claimed.

You can't open your eyes, you can't move. Knowing he's cum inside of you again, and the way he growled your name, it's more than you can bear. "Fuck. I- I love you. I love you. I love you." You sob, knowing he won't reply but you want him to know.

He doesn’t love you. He can’t. Not when he has the girls and Carol and all the shit that he does. But he does want you. You’re his. He rides out his high and starts to slowly ease out of you once he’s done.

You sigh when he pulls out of you, slowly removing the toy too and you feel so empty. His cum drips out of you, and you want him to take the handcuffs off and cuddle you but he won’t. He will probably uncuff you and then send you on your way. “Thank you.” You murmur, knowing how good this was and you know you’ll need him again soon.

Dave caresses your ass for a moment before he moves towards the bathroom. He needs to clean you up. “I’ll uncuff you in just a second.” He promises, grabbing the toy and bringing it with him.

You watch him come back in with the rag, hissing as he cleans up your abused holes, and you sigh when he unlocks the  cuffs, rubbing your wrists. “Did you enjoy it?” You ask him softly, wanting him to have loved being inside of you.

“Obsessed.” Dave answers with an honest smirk. He knows that you are going to want reassurance and intimacy so he motions for you to get under the covers and pulls them back to get into the bed with you. “I’ll be thinking about it when I’m not inside you.”

Your eyes widen as he slides into bed beside you and you are surprised when he wraps his arms around you. You smile, shifting back to snuggle into him, breathing him in. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring but you have him tonight. He strokes along your stomach and you are lulled into sleep, exhausted from the sex and the events of the day.

He waits until you are softly snoring, slipping out of the bed and picking up your phone to type out another text message, one that would be sent to his phone. Smirking to himself as he hits send, removes your SIM card and erases it. He’s had your password for a long time and now he’s used it. Redressing and stepping out with the bag and padlocks to start shuttering the cabin windows. With you inside.

****

You blink as you wake up, confused by your surroundings until you remember that Dave had fallen asleep beside you. You sigh and turn over in bed, frowning when you feel the cold sheets beside you. He’s gone. You knew he would leave but a small part of you hoped he would stay. You get out of the bed, shrugging on your robe that you’d brought with you, and you frown when you see the cabin is in darkness. You walk over to the window to open the curtains and you gasp when you find it shut up. Starting to panic, you go through each window, finding each one boarded up, and you rush over to the front door. Screaming when you find it locked, you tug on the handle with no use. You’re locked in. “Dave! Dave! Dave!” You shout, praying he’s still here and this is some kind of joke. You rush around the cabin but he’s nowhere to be found. “Oh my God.” You panic, chest heaving as you come to realize he’s locked you in.

Watching the screen, Dave sees you panicking. He picks up his cell phone to dial the cabin. He’s set it up so that only he can dial in, there are no outgoing calls to be made. He watches you jump when the phone peels and you rush over to it. “Dave! What- what is going on? What - why are you doing this?” You cry, making him exhale slowly, keeping his patience for now. 

“You said you’re mine.” He reminds you quietly. “You didn’t want Carol to find out. So this is perfect. You will stay here, I’ll be up to see you every couple of days and bring you supplies.” He rasps into the phone. “I can see you on the cameras and I’ll call you once a day. Tell me if you need me to bring you anything. And when I come, you can have me just like you said you wanted.”

Your hands shake as you look around the cabin, trying to spot the cameras and you think you see one in the corner. “Please don’t do this. I- I wouldn’t tell Carol. It would be our little secret. I don’t - please Dave. I can be a good girl. I won’t tell anyone. Just - just come and let me out. Please. I - fucking let me out of here!” You shout down the phone, losing your cool as you start to have a panic attack at the fact that he’s locked you in the cabin.

“Ah ah ah.” Dave tuts disappointedly. “A good girl wouldn’t yell about her situation.” He tells you. “I’ll be back in three days, baby. Don’t worry. I’ll bring those cookies you love. And you don’t have to worry about Johnny.” He decides to tell you the truth. “I killed him. And you texted me, telling me that you were quitting to move in with him. So Carol won’t wonder where you’ve gone.”

You sob, hearing the truth that Dave killed Johnny. He didn’t deserve to die. He was a good man. You nearly drop the phone, covering your mouth to smother your sob but know Dave can see it on the camera. “Don’t be sad. Now we can be together. When I want. I’m gonna have you forever. You’re mine now.” Dave declares and hangs up the phone. 

You frantically try to call back on the phone but the line is dead. You press the numbers over and over with no response so you finally slump down onto the floor. Dave killed Johnny and now you are his prisoner. Your selfishness has ruined everything, Dave has destroyed everything. You cry for Johnny, for your future, and you know you won’t make it out of here alive. Dave won’t let you go now. You’ll be his. Forever.

[oreosmilkshakes]

Pulchritudinous Promises

Summary: Sometimes, love can be found in the most unexpected places

Pairing: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x reader

Fandom: Marvel- Black Panther Wakanda Forever

Word Count: 8,262

Warning(s): !!There are/maybe spoilers!!, canon divergence, violence, slight/sort-of Hades-Persephone trope (I hope ☹), fluff

A/N: There are details in the story here that don’t exactly follow canonically, per se but I hope I got this right! I came across this post by @beautybyfire​ and I thought of giving the idea a shot. This is a very loooong piece too.

A/N 2: I hope I didn’t overdo it on the suit because I tried my best to keep it true as to the movies. And tbh, this isn’t exactly my best piece. But, enjoy and comments are appreciated! ;-;

Taglist: @beautybyfire​

The day was solemn, the skies were shining ahead brightly yet the air was heavy. [Name] hung her head low, the white veil covered her expression from the others. Mother held Shuri as she sobbed on the black casket before them. She felt the tight squeeze in her heart, eyes closed as she took a step forward. A hand placed on Shuri’s shoulder while another on her brother’s casket. “Death is never the end, brother. May Bast grant you peace in the afterlife with the ancestors,” She muttered. Mother wrapped her arms around both of her children, gently tugging them back as the Royal Ship took away T’Challa’s casket. Mother moved a hand to [Name]’s chin, her eyes filled with so much sadness after the loss of her son. The princess leaned into her mother’s shoulder, her cries silent as she mourned for the loss of her brother.

Life has to go on. T’Challa would want that.

A year has passed since T’Challa’s death. Everyday, by the river of her getaway home, [Name] prayed to Bast, praying that her brother was well with the ancestors and that She gave her the strength to push on every day. Life was hard after T’Challa’s death but she had to move on. As the middle child to Queen Ramonda and the older sister of Shuri, Princess [Name] was next in line to be Queen and the next Black Panther. She felt that it was too quickly for her to take up the mantle but she cannot leave Wakanda defenceless. So, she and Shuri got to work over creating a synthetic heart-plant. The siblings would spend days and weeks on the creation and even with the help of Griot, it was time consuming and everyday, [Name] prayed that their formula would work.

Her prayers did not fall on deaf ears because when they finally got the right formula, Shuri immediately instructed Griot to print the plant. Mother was present too and [Name] thanked Bast for the absolute miracle, Shuri bringing over the plant that was cupped in her hands.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mother asked and the princess looked up. She nodded, shedding her coat and folded it on a nearby chair.

Mother pulled away, taking the plant from Shuri. “I will get the plant ready for the ritual,” she said, leaving shortly.

“I want to, Mother. T’Challa made me promise him. A promise that I would always keep you, Shuri and Wakanda safe. How am I to fulfil his wishes if I do not take up the mantle of the Black Panther,” [Name] replied softly and her Mother smiled. The Queen moved around the table, bringing her daughter into a hug.

[Name] sighed softly, returning the hug. She didn’t want to break her promise to T’Challa. After all, she was ready. All of her time spent training beside her brother led to this moment.

“To me, you will always be that adorable little girl,”

[Name] sat on the bed and Shuri approached her with a sad smile. The elder princess took Shuri’s hand, recognising the look on her face. “I know that look, Shuri. What’s wrong?” And at that, the genius woman sighed.

“I’m just..I’m just afraid that I would lose you too. Taking up the Black Panther mantle..it’s a big responsibility, you know? What if you run into battle and never return? What if you fought and didn't survive? You and Mother are all I have left,” Shuri confessed. [Name] smiled widely at her words.

“Shuri, little sister. You won’t lose me. I promise you this. Whatever happens in the future. Whatever threatens our kingdom in the future, I promise you this, Shuri. I will never leave you or Mother alone. Okay?” [Name] gently pinched her sister’s cheek and the princess grumbled at the gesture.

“Why do you keep doing that? I am not a five-year-old anymore,” Shuri rubbed her cheek and [Name] laughed.

The siblings shared a laugh as Mother returned with a bowl in her hands. Shuri stepped back and [Name] laid on the bed, exhaling deeply. “You know what to do if this doesn’t work, right?” she looked at Shuri. The young princess nodded, removed her Kimoyo beads and placed them on her sister’s chest. Mother brought the bowl down onto [Name]’s lips and as the liquid seeped past her lips and down her throat, Mother and Shuri began chanting.

[Name] shut her eyes, praying to Bast that this would work.

[Name] awoke with a loud gasp, looking up into the purple skies. She swallowed, the sound of water caught her attention first as she stood up slowly. She noticed she was dressed in white, raising her head to face the river. [Name] took a step into the water. It was cold and shallow and the peace she felt was beyond anything. She wondered who she would see. Would it be an ancestor? Her father? Or perhaps her brother? She leaned down, her fingers dipped into the cool water. Her eyes fluttered shut, easing her mind and body.

But the silence was soon broken by a low growl behind her. [Name] furrowed her brows, regaining her posture as she turnt. A tall figure stood before her, a goddess, one with the head of a Panther.

“Bast!” [Name] gasped, moving to kneel before the Goddess but she was stopped by a hand under her arm.

“Please, my devoted child. There is no need for that,” The Panther said and the woman stood back up.

“You have suffered greatly, [Name]. The loss of your father, losing your family to the universe cleanse and now, you have lost your brother. Yet, with each turn, you sought me for help. Child, I admire your strength and your devotion towards me. You seek power in the heart-shaped plant and I am giving you so much more so you shall keep your promise to your brother. Your protection to your family and your kingdom will last endlessly,” Bast said, laying a hand on [Name]’s head. At her words, the princess allowed her tears to fall, tearing down her walls as she silently cried.

“Thank you, Goddess..Thank you..,” She wiped her tears, closing her eyes.

“My brother..is he with the ancestors?” Her voice was quiet.

“Yes, my child. He rests with the ancestors. He is very proud of you and Shuri, little one. Though he may have left the world, he still resides in all of your hearts. Never forget that, child,” Bast’s voice faded, leaving the woman alone.

[Name] sat up from the table, gasping hard. Mother and Shuri had their hands on her as the princess slowed her breathing.

“Who did you see? Did you see T’Challa?” Mother asked and she shook her head.

“No, Mother. I saw our Goddess. I saw Bast,”

Shuri gasped.

The mannequin was shoved backwards, hard, wedged into the wall.

“But how is that possible? How could you see Bast?”

[Name] swallowed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know either. I thought I would see our father or our brother but Bast herself came to see me,” The woman moved, swinging her legs off the bed. She flexed her fingers, feeling normal so far.

“If I met Bast..this would mean that the ritual worked, right?” [Name] questioned, approaching a mannequin. Examining it to ensure it was sturdy, she gave it a hard kick.

[Name]’s jaw dropped, snapping her head towards Mother and Shuri.

“Woah..,” she said, attention turning to the small glass of water on the table. She furrowed her brows, moving a hand up in the direction of the glass. [Name] moved her fingers and the contents within the glass moved along with it.

“But…But that is impossible,” Shuri tilted her head. Mother too had a shocked expression but it returned to a smile.

“Bast has granted you the power of the Gods indeed. The Black Panther lives!”

“The Black Panther lives!” Shuri copied and [Name] knew this would be the beginning of her heroic life.

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

The testing lab was bustling with technicians and engineers, Shuri’s minions, of course. The youngest princess was busy working on the final touches of [Name]’s new Vibranium suit while the newest protector had spent her time assisting both her mother in the royal duties as well as her sister in testing out the new suit. Truthfully, apart from her new strength and enhanced abilities as well as water manipulation, she did not know what else she got.

“The suit is ready,” Shuri set down her holo-tablet, picking up the metal bangles from the table. [Name] approached the table as well. “This is still very new but I can promise you that this suit is perfect,” Shuri fastened the Vibranium bangles on each of her sister’s wrist. She stepped back, activating her Kimoyo beads to record.

“How do I activate the suit?” [Name] adjusted the bangles, stepping back just in case anything happens.

“I simplified it. Cross your arms over your chest,” Shuri instructed.

The princess nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. The bangles touched and soon enough, she felt her body engulfed in the nano-suit. The helmet covered her head and [Name] opened her eyes. They widened, looking down at her hands. Shuri was cheering loudly, ending the recording momentarily.

“Damn, sister. You look good,” Shuri took one of her sister’s arms and dragged her to the mirror.

Shuri clicked her tongue. “Anyway, I designed this suit specifically to match your abilities. Strength, agility, durability, all the usual stuff. Flick your wrist for me,” [Name] did as she was told and claws shot out from the nails as well as her toes.

[Name]’s jaw dropped, looking at Shuri’s new masterpiece. Her suit reflected most of the past Black Panthers but it came with many modern twists. The nano-tech was the first example but the colours, while it was traditional, instead of the usual black and gold or black and purple, her suit was black, blue with some bits of silver-white. There was a short cape that connected to the fur around her neck.

“You know, maybe I should start getting you to design everything for me because Shuri, by Bast, this is amazing,” The nano-helm retracted back to reveal the wide smile on [Name]’s lips.

“The suit is water-sensitive. Which means, once it touches water, it will power up the suit. You will get stronger. Of course, in addition to your new water bending powers,” Shuri chuckled as the older princess relaxed her fingers. The sharp vibranium claws retracted. She brought the bangles together and the suit quickly disappeared back to the metal bands.

[Name] exhaled softly, the excitement slowly dying down upon realising that the first anniversary of their brother’s passing is in a few days time.

“Shuri..,”

The younger stopped, turning around.

“Do you remember what’s coming up soon?” Her voice was quiet as she approached her sister. Shuri’s expression faltered, a frown clear on her face.

“One year since brother’s passing,”

“Yes..Do you have any plans for the day?”

Shuri pursed her lips as [Name] took her hands. It was clear the pain still rests in her heart.

“No. Not at the moment. I’m afraid that If I do something, I will reopen the wound,”

“I know. I’m afraid too. But Mother says she has plans and she wants the both of us to come with her,”

Shuri gave a muffled reply.

Shuri raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

The older one shrugged. “Mother didn’t say,” And Shuri nodded, leaning in for a hug. [Name] sighed softly, returning the tight hug. She knew how Shuri felt, sympathising with her sibling. “I love you, Shuri. I won’t ever leave you, okay?”

The fateful day arrived and Mother had brought them to the Wakandan Rivers. Shuri had started a fire while [Name] gathered the stick for burning. The skies were dark but the moonlight above shone bright. The sound of nocturnal animals was somewhat comforting during this dark time.

Namor approached the three, Mother and Shuri had the spear tip pointed towards him.

[Name] stood by the water, kneeling before it as she prayed silently to Bast. Mother was speaking to Shuri. [Name] felt minor vibrations from the water, looking up to find a small herd of elephants approaching the water for a drink. She moved a hand into the water, feeling the vibrations. The water was calm, ripples light until the ripples got faster and heavier. Her head snapped up, a figure hovering over the water.

“Mother!” She called out, alarming the older women and Shuri. Both moved to grab their spears and [Name] stood guard as the figure hovered to land. Water dripped from his body, the jewels he wore glinted under the pale moonlight. [Name] wore a calm expression, studying the potential threat before her. His ears were pointed, wings on his ankles which gave him flight. He wore nothing but a green short decorated with gold. His pectoral, a gorgeous shade of blue and gold, fulgent under the moon. He glanced over to the woman, his own eyes studying the woman’s form.

“Stop right there!” Mother hissed. Namor raised a hand up, running his fingers through his dripping hair.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?”

Namor inhaled deeply, looking around. “This place is amazing. The air is pristine,” He faced the river. “And the water..,” The King turned back to Mother.

“My mother told stories about a place like this. A protected land with people that never have to leave, that never have to change who they were..,” Namor turned to [Name], keeping his eyes on her momentarily before returning to Mother.

“What reason do you have to reveal your secret to the world?”

Mother gripped her spear, [Name] was ready to defend her in case he decided to attack.

“I am NOT a woman who enjoys repeating herself. Who are you?!”

Namor had a smug look on his face.

“I have many names. My people call me..K’ul’ulkan. But my enemies call me Namor,”

“I need your people to do something for me. It is something..important to me and my people. Surface dwellers intruded my waters, bringing their technology to my sea in search of Vibranium. They talk of a scientist in America. I want you to bring her to me,” Namor stepped forward, placing the conch shell down.

“Should you have acquired this American scientist, speak into the shell. I will come. I leave that in your hands,”

Namor gave one last look to [Name], jumping back into the water.

The tension in the air left as soon as he swam away. [Name] looked ahead, a large piece of equipment sat on the grass. “How did they do that?” Shuri thought aloud as she laid the spear down.

“Mother, what should we do?” [Name] turned to the Queen, who visibly relaxed. The silence indicated that she was deep in thought, possibly planning out future situations should they not comply.

“We will take the device back to Shuri’s lap. Both of you will work on this together. This changes everything,”

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

Work could never be finished especially when the many lives within Wakanda are under threat. Shuri took apart the machine, examining each part closely to find out more about the device. She was impressed at the fact that this machinery was mostly made out of everyday materials. Garbage, to say the least. ‘Whoever made this is a genius and resourceful,’ Shuri made a mental note, pulling up the protective goggles as the piece of metal she was cutting fell off the side.

Meanwhile, [Name] was working on decoding the device’s internal drive, digging deeper on where the device came from.

“This is some impressive coding. Whoever did this..it’s clearly above their paygrade,” She told Shuri. “The codes are simple but they work so perfectly in what they do. How is it possible that that piece of junk can even detect Vibranium?” [Name] leaned back on her seat, tapping the tip of her pen against her lips.

“All of this is made of..trash,” Shuri set down a piece of equipment. She hadn’t realised Mother had entered her lab and was talking to Okoye. [Name] wheeled herself over to the big machinery, looking up.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

Before Shuri could reply, both had turned to the siblings.

“Okoye is insisting that she takes the lead in the investigation in America and she wants to bring Shuri and [Name]-,”

“When are we leaving?” Both asked, interrupting Mother. The older woman sighed, lips pursed as she turned to Okoye. She worries for the wellbeing of her children going on his mission but she trusts the General and her oldest daughter.

“We leave as soon as possible,” Okoye nodded.

Just when [Name] thought things couldn't get any worse..

The trio had managed to track down Riri Williams, a student studying in MIT who had apparently made the Vibranium detection device. Shuri managed to persuade the young girl to follow them to Wakanda and she had agreed, not wanting to succumb into the hands of her supposed water hunters.

The team hid in Riri’s warehouse, red and blue lights flashing through the tinted windows.

But, she snapped back into reality when a sudden force struck the car.

“We meet at the rendezvous point. Shuri, get in the car,”

“No, sister. I think it’s best if we separate. Don’t make us easy targets,” Shuri reasoned. [Name] thought her reasoning. It was true. Okoye was about to protest but the older princess raised her hand up. “General, take the wheel. Shuri, ride safely. Riri, watch the skies. Let’s get out of here,” [Name] got into the car with Okoye, the car revving to life with the help of Griot. Shuri had rode off with Okoye’s car following suit. The American authorities were hot on their tails. “Griot, follow Shuri. Don’t let her out of our sight,” Okoye instructed. A HUD formed on the windshield of the car, directions to their rendezvous point clear on the screen. [Name] turned around, bullets struck the back of the muscle car.

“We have to get clear of their guns,” [Name] turnt back, her hands moving around the HUD screen to find their next best route. “Take a hard right into the alley. There’s a road on the other side that leads towards the bridge,” She swiped the GPS back to Okoye. The General swerved the car, the wheels skidding hard against the asphalt as she turned into the alley. [Name] was focused on her sister and planning on their escape route, the bridge was in view and the authorities were falling behind.

“Shuri!” [Name] screamed, the impact threw the bike mid-air. The car overturned, slamming down on the hard floor with a loud bang. The princess groaned, knocking her head to the side of the door upon impact. Something felt damp on the side of her head and she knew it was blood. “Shuri!” [Name] groaned out, tugging on the seat belt. It wouldn’t budge. In the distance from Shuri, she could see the authorities had stopped, guns in their hands as they approached the site cautiously.

Okoye groaned, lifting her head to assess the situation. “[Name], are you hurt?”

“I’m good. Check on Shuri,” Okoye carefully crawled out. A hook grabbed onto Riri’s unconscious form and the warrior woman didn’t hesitate to cut the wire with her spear.

The wire was pulled back over the bridge. Okoye rushed over to Shuri, shoving the helmet off her head. “Griot?”

“The princess is well, General. She should return to us in a few minutes,” The AI confirmed, the Kimoyo beads on the woman’s hand lit up, showing Shuri’s stable heartbeat.

“Call for extrac-,” [Name] stopped, the sound of water splashing harshly. Five Talokanils jumped off the back of a whale and onto the bridge, weapons ready. The princess stood, rushing over to defend her family with Okoye doing the same.

Meanwhile, [Name] still couldn’t get the seat belt off. She growled, flicking her wrist. The nanotech formed around her hand. She flexed her fingers, blue claws ripped through the belt easily. She fell with a soft groan, slowly crawling out of the car. Her eyes looked around, the cold wind bit on her skin. Shaking her head slightly, the princess moved to Riri, cradling the young girl’s head on her lap. She felt a pulse on her fingers and sighed in relief, turning to Okoye.

“She’s well, princess,” Okoye reported and she nodded.

[Name] had her eyes on the pair of blue-skinned people, studying them. They certainly did not look like some common soldiers. They wore elaborate garments and guessed that they should be Namor’s champions.

The large male looked at the woman, speaking in a language she didn’t understand. The female nodded, joining the other three soldiers to fend off the authorities. Okoye raised her spear. “How should we do this?” Behind, Namora and her soldiers easily incapacitate the men. “I’ll take on the four. Can you take the big one?” [Name] crossed her arms. Okoye removed her coat and threw it aside. “I got him,” She held her spear in a defensive position as the two circled one another.

[Name] had to help the Americans. She ran towards the four Talokanils, her suit wrapped around her like a glove. She lept in the air, swinging a kick to one of the unsuspecting warriors. He was knocked back, slamming on the side of the bridge. The next noticed her presence, twirling his own spear towards the Black Panther. She knew better than to hurt them so knocking them out was the better option. The second warrior yelled, jabbing his spear forward. It grazed [Name]’s side, her heart racing with adrenaline pumping in her veins. She grabbed the spear, pulling the Talokanil forward towards her. Then, she dropped the spear, a foot on it to prevent the Talokanil warrior from taking his weapon back. She rammed her shoulder into his chest, knocking him back with ease.

The third warrior lept in the air, slamming the spear on [Name]’s shoulder. She hissed, leaping away and landed on the hood of the car in a stalking position. The female spoke in her language but the Panther waved her hand, a wave of water grabbed the three and threw them into the water, hard. She doubted it would do much but hoped it was enough to stun them.

Namora whipped the end of her spear onto the last American, turning to the Panther. [Name] flexed her fingers as Namora slammed her spear down, both women facing one another.

“Túun, k'a'abéet a beel le leti'ob guerrero Wakanda,” (So, you must be Wakanda’s own warrior?),” Namora spoke, her head tilted, anticipating the fight to be a good one.

“K ilej bix a meetik justo ti' jump'éel ba'ate'el,” (Let’s see how you fair in a fight).

[Name] circled the Talokanil woman and she mirrored the Panther. Namora ran to [Name], twirling her spear in her direction. The Panther kneeled down, narrowly dodging the tip of the spear as it brushed the pointed ears of her helmet. She twirled around, spinning backwards to get up. A leg hooked onto the Talokanil’s spear, pushing her down from the force. The Panther hadn’t expected Namora to recover so quickly, already whipping her spear in her direction. The hits were sure to cause bruises but her training allowed her to take in every hit. Namor slammed the back of the spear into the Panther’s chest, slamming her down harshly into the asphalt road. [Name] groaned, hands on the body of the spear and lifting it to try and ease the pressure. She growled, waving her hand. 

Water slammed into Namora’s side, sending the Talokanil woman hitting the side of the car. Namora seemed surprised at the unexpected attack. The Panther jumped to her feet, turning around to find Okoye on the floor with the male warrior approaching her. She ran to Attuma, jumping on his back with ease and had both arms squeezing his neck. The Talokanil thrashed around, hands trying to pull [Name] off but she refused to let go. She flexed her fingers, claws on her hairs and dangerously close to Attuma’s neck.

“Enough!” [Name] growled. Okoye slowly stood, grabbing her spear as her chest heaved from exhaustion. Attuma stopped moving, head tilted back and away from the shining claws. Namora and the three soldiers had seemingly recovered and ran towards the end of the fight, the Panther getting off Attuma’s back. The helmet pulled back to reveal [Name]’s damp face, claws retracting back.

Shuri let out a soft groan, carefully standing up. The elder princess turned, running to Shuri to catch her sister in a hug. Shuri let out a soft ‘oof’ as she returned the hug.

“You’re alright, sister. You’re alright,” [Name] patted Shuri’s back as she pulled away. The younger looked behind to find the five Talokanil soldiers.

The Panther turned, looking at Attuma and Namora. She raised her wrist up, activating the kimoyo beads. “Griot, I need translation,”

“Did I miss something?”

“No, not much. I want to make an offer with them,”

“I am a Wakandan royalty. I have an offer to make to your King. Take me to your King but let them go. Namor has no more quarrel with the girl. I wish to make a peace offering with him,”

Attuma and Namora turned to one another.

“Leti' le realeza Wakanda,” (She is Wakandan royalty?)

“Míin le ajawo' aceptaría u ti'ibil óolala',” (Perhaps the King would accept her offering)

Namora turnt to the princess.

“Le ajawo' taak le ch'úupalo'. Yaan k bisikech ta yéetel le ch'úupalo', chéen ba'ale' P'at bin a kiik yéetel a guerrero,”

“The King wants the girl. We will take you and the girl but let your sister and your warrior go,” Griot translated and just as Okoye was about to protest, [Name] held a hand out to prevent her from furthering her actions.

“Fine. We will come with you. My sister and my General will return home. Take us,” [Name] flicked her bangle, her suit disappearing into the metal completely. Shuri grabbed her hand and tugged her aside.

“What do you think you’re doing?! You want to willingly give Riri away? He will hurt her, sister,” Shuri frowned.

“Shuri, please understand. We don’t fully know Namor’s capabilities. For all we know, his army could best us in every fight initiated. I want you to get ready Wakanda just in case my peace offering does not go as expected. I promise you that Riri will return safely to you. Okoye, take Shuri back. I don’t wish to discuss this further,”

[Name] turnt to Namora, a mask held in her hand. She placed it over her mouth and nose, a soft hiss emitted from the mask itself. Attuma had picked up Riri, making his way to the edge of the bridge. The princess felt her vision blur, Namora quickly catching the woman before she could fully pass out.

She could hear Shuri’s faint scream and that was the last thing she remembered.

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

[Name] felt hands on her, eyes fluttering open to the soft, blue light. Slowly, she sat up, finding Riri in front of her with a worried expression.

“Oh, I thought you were dead or something,” Riri heaved a sigh, sitting on the hammock. She pursed her lips, unaware of their whereabouts. It scared her.

“Where are we?”

“What happened on the bridge?” Riri turned to the princess, awaiting some answers.

[Name] rubbed her head, shaking it.

“I..uh..I don’t actually know,”

[Name] furrowed her brows, recalling the events.

“A fight with the people who wanted to take you. I had to end it,”

“A peace off- Are you serious, right now? Man, you are crazy, seriously,”

“And..exactly how are you going to do that?” The young girl crossed her arms over her chest.

“An offer of peace,” She said sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck gently.

[Name] laughed nervously. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t really think this through properly but this man..he has the power to hurt my people and you and I had to do something. What better way to talk, right? War and violence isn’t always the answer..,”

“Oh, I’ll show him violence,” Riri mumbled.

A pair of Talokanil maiden approached the two, one carried a basket of fruits and another held a garment in her hands. The second maiden held up the garment.

“Nook' teechi', princesa. Bey teech u le realeza, láayli' k'a'abéet a beel tratado bey tal way te' Talokan,” (Clothes for you, princess. As you are royalty, you are still treated as such here in Talokan)

[Name] took the garment, the material was soft but the dress itself was hefty.

“K ajawo' k'áato' wilech,” (Our King wishes to see you) The maiden gestured for [Name] to follow her but before she could leave, Riri grabbed her hand.

[Name] was led to a small area where she could change out of her clothes and into the dress. She had to admit, it was the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. A white and blue garment decorated with jade. She inhaled deeply, following the maiden once more towards a secluded part of the cave.

“Wait, where are you going? Don’t leave me here!” She squeezed her hand. [Name] smiled softly, gently taking her hand.

“I won’t be long, Riri. I will be back soon,” The princess released Riri’s hand, following the maiden deeper into the cavern systems.

In the middle, was a small hut of sorts. Inside, she could see Namor with his back facing towards her. The maiden left the two alone. [Name] looked up, glow worms lit the cave gorgeously. There was a pool of water by the step stone and it looked very deep. She slowly made her way across towards the hut, swallowing as Namor slowly turned to face the princess. He had donned a cape to cover himself mildly. He was distracting but the art behind her pulled her attention fully. “It’s beautiful..,” She acknowledged the mural. It was painted in various colours and it told a story, one she couldn’t exactly figure out.

Namor moved to the princess.

“I thank you for your kind words, princess,”

[Name] tilted her head down, eyes meeting Namor’s.

“Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Namor. I’m just disheartened it had to be under tense circumstances,” She began. Namor gestured for her to sit and she did.

“I don’t want war, Namor. I bring the girl to you to show that I do keep the end of our bargain. But I cannot willingly give her over to you. She did no wrong, Namor. It is her country’s people who have acquired her project for their usual selfish usage,” At this, Namor lit up. Her views were similar to that of his own. He felt his own heart skip a beat at that.

“My warriors told me of a peace offering you had,” Namor adjusted his cloak and the woman nodded.

“I’m doing this for the benefit of your people and mine, Namor. I hope you understand that I would do anything for peace and for my people. As a king to your own empire, I’m sure you share this with me…,” She trailed off, reading Namor’s expression.

“My views are the same. Surface dwellers are the true monsters of our story. They are selfish, destructive and they cause harm to everything they touch,”

[Name] had to thread carefully now. She didn’t want to give Namor the wrong idea.

“What I’m trying to say is that, you have no quarrel with the surface world-,”

“No, princess. I bear hatred towards the surface dwellers,” Namor’s eyes darken and [Name] leaned back, afraid he might do something irrational.

He reached towards the table, picking up a jaded bracelet.

“This belonged to my mother. She gave it to me before she passed all those years ago,” Namor held the bracelet out to [Name] and she took it. She brought it up closely, examining its own beauty. “It’s so pretty,” She smiled softly, fingers dragging to study each carved jade.

“We were not always who we are,” Namor began, looking at the mural on the wall.

“My mother and her tribe were born human, living on the surface world where they thrived greatly. Then, one by one, they fall ill. Strong men would grow frail and die. Children barely reach the age of maturity, dying in the arms of their mothers and fathers. Their tribe was stricken with a sickness brought in by the colonists. As a final resort, the tribe shaman sought help from the gods, seeking for a cure to their ailment. The gods gave him signs, where it led him to a water hole,” Namor moved a hand over the mural of the depiction.

“The Shaman found a blue plant beneath the water hole and made a cure for the tribe. The plant alleviated the sickness but it left them with a gift. A gift you see before you,” He paused, turning to the princess.

“At that time, my mother bore me. Despite her wishes not to consume the plant, the shaman had begged her to do so, foreseeing that the child would not survive if she did not consume the plant. So, she did. I was the firstborn son of Talokan, a hybrid that gave me powers beyond anything imaginable. I was a mutant,”

[Name] stood, joining Namor by the mural.

“But my mother, over time, grew sick. She couldn’t bear the thought that she could not live on the surface anymore. She longed for it. She died not long after and as per her wishes, I buried her on her land. But, what I saw was the seed to my hatred towards the surface dwellers. My mother’s people became slaves, treated poorly beyond anything I have ever seen. So, I killed them all, burning everything to the ground and killing everyone,” He paused again, looking at [Name] in the eyes.

“A Spanish man of faith cursed me as he died by my hand. He called me, ‘El Niño sin Amor’. A child without love. And I took my name from there. Namor. Because I have no love for the surface world,”

[Name] understood his feelings. He was the ruler of a hidden tribe, one hidden for very good reasons. If she were to be placed in his position, she would have done the same thing.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Why? Because you and I are the same. We would do anything to keep our people safe from the outsiders,”

Namor’s hand moved to [Name]’s, fingers moving to tie the bracelet around her wrist. Her heart raced at his sweet gesture, cheeks reddening under the blue light. He was such a strong warrior but his hands felt nothing as such. They were soft, warm and large enough to cover her own hands.

[Name] was taken aback by his words but then, a smile formed on the King’s lips.

“Thank you, Namor,”

Their eyes meet momentarily, until Namor pulls away.

“Talokan is a beautiful city. I want to share it with you but the water down there..it’s enough to kill you,”

“We have a diving suit for you,”

Oh, she couldn’t wait to see his world.

Talokan was unlike anything [Name] has seen. To see a home thriving under the sea, she fully understood why Namor was so driven to protect his people.

She sat by the water, Namor beside her.

“Namora told me of your special abilities. Do you love the water?”

She looked over to the King, her lips pursed to bite back a smile.

“I do. More than anything. When I took my own version of the blue plant, I was met with our god, Bast. I was a devoted pupil of hers and that pleased her. In return for my devotion, she granted me the power of the Panther, alongside with a few extras,” She waved her first finger, a small wave of water brushed against her bare feet.

She hadn't realised that Namor was staring at her, one filled with admiration and adoration.

“K’uk’ulkan, there’s a reason why I offered myself here. I want to have peace between our kingdoms and there has to be a less violent way to do so. Riri, she’s only a child. What she made was merely for a school project. She had no way of knowing that her country’s government had intended to use it for their own. There has to be some other way, K’uk’ulkan. I am willing to offer a peace offering in return for peace. But, you should pick whatever peace offering you wish to have. I believe it’s only fair,” [Name] turned to Namor. He looked relaxed but behind those brown eyes, he already knew what he wanted.

“Anything?” He repeated.

She nodded. “Anything,”

She gasped, wanting to pull her gaze away but kept it firm. Her cheeks were hot and reddening.

Namor leaned forward, a hand moving to cup the woman’s jaw.

“In that case, I believe the best and most traditional way for two kingdoms to form an alliance would be a marriage, no?”

A marriage?

“The marriage is one thing but the other thing..I want you to stay with me,”

Namor wanted a marriage..with her?

The King of Talokan wants to get married to the Princess of Wakanda? What would mother think? What would Shuri think? [Name] closed her eyes, calming her erratic mind. She parted her lips to speak but Namor beat her to it.

Namor gently gripped her hand.

“K’uk’ulkan..,” She began, taking a deep breath. She moved a hand over his, the one that laid on her cheek. She took his hand, placing her palm on his.

“This marriage, I can agree to. But to stay with you? Please, Namor, I cannot simply abandon my family and my people. I am still their protector,”

“Then for six months, stay with me. The remaining half, you may return to your kingdom but once it ends, you stay with me again. Do you agree?”

[Name]’s eyes met with Namor’s. She knew what she was walking into. If she had to do this for the safety of her people as well as form an alliance with Talokan, it would be a win for both parties.

Namor leaned in close and she did the same. Their foreheads meet, eyes fluttering close at the intimacy they shared. [Name] will learn to love the King.

She nodded, a smile on her lips.

“I agree to your terms,”

The times the princess had with the King were well spent. Namor was relaxed around her and [Name] opened up to the King. He became her listening ear when she had to release the emotions she withheld about her late brother. He understood perfectly what it was like to lose a family member. He sympathises with her.

When Namor was busy, [Name] had Riri to go to. Riri eventually eased up around the Talokans but there was still some form of tension between them. She didn’t tell Riri of her arrangement with Namor.

The princess was unaware of the fact that Nakia had infiltrated Talokan. Her eyes darted to the silhouette beyond the far edge of the caves and she stood immediately, stopping her conversation with Riri.

Nakia had a rifle up, pointing to the Talokanil guard.

“Nakia!” She rushed over, the guard held her spear up.

“They’re friendly, Nakia. They are friendly,”

Nakia furrowed her brows. “What? But I was briefed-,”

“Nakia, I have established an alliance with their King,”

At that, the other woman froze. “An alliance? The Queen told me they were dangerous beyond anything Wakanda has faced,”

“Yes, they are but trust me on this..please?” [Name] begged, approaching her friend slowly. Nakia lowered her rifle and the guard, her spear. The princess nodded to the guard, who stepped back. She rushed to her friend, hugging her tightly.

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

“It is so good to see you, Nakia. I know you have your orders but take the girl,”

“What?-”

“Take Riri and bring her to Wakanda. Namor has agreed to let her go and our alliance in exchange for a peace offering. I will stay here but please, tell mother and Shuri that I am safe and I will return soon,” [Name] gestured to Riri to follow Nakia. Nakia wanted to say more but the princess urged them to leave. Soon, the two disappeared from sight. [Name] knew better than to argue with the princess. A soft, sad sigh left her lips as she made her way to Namor’s home. She allowed her mind to drift as she sat on a stool, staring up at the painted murals, thoughts filled with how she yearned to return home and to reveal to Wakanda of their newly formed alliance.

[Name] wore a wide smile on her lips as Wakanda came into view. She wore her suit, protecting herself from the water as she swam. With the aid of her powers, she moved quick, though Namor was quicker. The princess had got into contact with her Mother a few days back and the worries the older woman had almost drowned the princess. She had to assure Ramonda that she was alright and that Namor had done nothing to hurt her. He had finally agreed to go to Wakanda with [Name] and her kingdom prepared for their arrival. Talokanil soldiers rode on whale-back into the Wakandan waters, royal ships hovered overhead to lead them to the palace. [Name] resurfaced, jumping out of the water and onto land. Namor returned to her side.

“Are you ready, sthandwa?,” (my love)

“I am, princesa,”Namor nodded as a royal ship brought them to the palace.

[Name] could see that Mother, Shuri and the Dora Milaje were waiting for their arrival. The ship landed shortly. [Name] was out of her suit, running to her Mother and Shuri.

“[Name]!” Shuri caught her sister in a tight hug, faces buried in each other’s neck as Queen Ramonda approached her children, hugging her eldest tightly. Behind, Namor stood by the ship, his soldiers behind him. The Queen pulled away, her gaze dark as she glanced at the King.

“Nothing is more important than the safety of my child,” Mother cupped [Name]’s cheeks, her shoulders visibly eased up knowing her first daughter had returned.

[Name] pulled away.

“Mother, Shuri, I know you have questions but we have more pressing matters. It is related to the future of Wakanda and Talokan,”

“I know, Mother. I have missed you and Shuri so much. I miss home so much,” [Name] turned, Namor had approached the family.

“Mother, Shuri, you know K’uk’ulkan. He isn’t here as a threat but as a friend to Wakanda,” She moved to Namor, arms brushing against one another.  

“Let’s talk inside, Mother,”

Mother glanced between her daughter and Namor, a frown clear on her lips and an obvious displeased expression. Shuri was confused, following Mother into the gathering hall.

“I hate to see you unhappy, Princesa,”

[Name] turned to her lover.

“Thank you..,”

“For what, my love?”

“For bringing me home. To see Mother and Shuri again,” [Name] reached up, arms around his neck as she pulled the King down for a hug. His hand gripped her waist comfortably, lips brushing her neck as she pulled away.

[Name] smiled widely, turning to follow her family. Namor gestured for Namora and Attuma to stay with the other soldiers as he followed his lover.

Mother sat on her throne, Shuri beside her as [Name] and Namor stood before them. The elders were all here in the citadel, surrounding the pair.

“I know you have a lot of questions, Mother, Sister, Elders but what I did, I did it for a good reason. What reason do we have to seek war with Namor and Talokan? Yes, his motive at first may be unjustified but he did it to protect his people, to protect his kingdom from the touches of the outside world. Are we not the same? We protect Wakanda and her resources from the touches of the outside world and we would do anything to keep us safe, don’t we?” There were murmurs going around the hall. It seems the Elders were agreeing with her words.

“Did he force you to stay?” Mother asked, her voice was firm and hard.

This time, it was Namor’s turn to speak.

“No, I did not force her to stay. At her own will, she chose to stay with me in Talokan so we may talk about peace between our worlds. What she speak, is true. Princess [Name] has opened my eyes to the surface world, helping me see that there is more than just war, violence and greed. We share the same vision and the same mission. She made a peace offering with me,”

“And what is this peace offering exactly?” Mother hissed.

Silence fell on the Citadel momentarily.

“To ensure an alliance between Wakanda and Talokan is forged..I have agreed to marry K’uk’ulkan and to stay with him for half of the year,”

Loud gasps and louder whispers went around the Citadel. Mother stood up, horrified.

“What?! No, absolutely not. I am not losing my child again. I will not agree to this peace offering,”

“Mother..,” [Name] approached her mother, a small smile on her lips as she took Ramonda’s hands in hers.

“Mother…K’uk’ulkan has agreed to this alliance. Think about how it would benefit our people, how an alliance would mean that Wakanda would grow stronger. This marriage is for all of us, for both Wakanda and Talokan. I will come back for the next half of the year. I will always be your daughter, Mother..I will always be the protector of Wakanda. You will never, ever lose me. I promise you, Mother. I promise you, Shuri and the people of Wakanda,”

Queen Ramonda looked defeated, clear tears pricked her eyes. Her heart grew heavy, turning to her daughter. Her hand cupped her cheek, tears threatening to fall.

Tears fell as the Queen stroked her daughter’s cheek.

“Is there no better way?” Her voice was soft. The princess smiled sadly, shaking her head.

“I..share feelings with K’uk’ulkan, Mother. He has treated me with nothing but kindness and my heart is for him,”

“I always told T’Challa that you would grow up to become a strong, independent woman who would be fit to be Queen of Wakanda one day.. If your brother could see you right now, he would be so, so proud of you,”

This time, it was [Name]’s turn to cry at the mention of her brother. She hugged her Mother tightly, sniffling into the older woman’s shoulders slightly. Mother gestured for Shuri to join and she did, hugging her family as tightly as she could.

The elders looked at one another, nodding in agreement.

[Name] pulled away, wiping her tears with her sleeve. Mother took in a deep breath, quickly wiping her tears.

“Are there any objections to this alliance?”

All eyes were on M’Baku, the Jabari Clan leader, who inhaled sharply. If all of Wakanda would benefit from this alliance, then it would be the same for his clan.

“There are no objections from the River Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Mining Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Border Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Merchant Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Jabari Tribe,”

“Then it is agreed. Wakanda sees Talokan and her King as our allies. Therefore..this marital alliance shall be the beginning of our endless alliance,” Ramonda announced.

[Name] turned to her mother and Shuri, a smile on her lips.

“Thank you, mother,”

Ramonda cupped her daughter’s cheeks.

“Will you be staying?” Mother asked and she shook her head.

“It would be wrong of a mother to hinder her child’s fullest potential. It pains me and Shuri to be separate from you for six months. I know you’ll return but the hole still burns in my heart,”

“I know, Mother. I feel it too but I know you two trust me on this. This will work, I know it will..,” [Name] trailed off, glancing at Namor.

“No. There are some matters K’uk’ulkan and I have to attend in Talokan but I promise to keep in touch,” She brushed her fingers on the Kimoyo beads, smiling as she pulled away.

[Name] gave her family a last look before leaving the Citadel.

She found Namor speaking with his people and her presence made him stop.

“Don’t stop on my account, my love,”

Namor wore his beautiful smile, one she grew to adore so much. Her cheeks felt hot.

“Why don’t you start by giving me a kiss and then..we can continue once we reach Talokan,”

“In yakunaj, words cannot express my adoration for you. My heart races whenever you are around and there is so much I wish to do to you,”

[Name] gasped at his words, not expecting his confession. She smirked, leaning close to the King. An arm snaked around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

Namor didn’t hesitate next, capturing his future queen’s lips in a soft kiss.

This was a start of a new chapter for both kingdoms and a start of a beautiful relationship between the King of Talokan and the Princess of Wakanda.

[kitashousewife]

we're in trouble now

an: Halloween vibes? but not really? idk sort of kind of based on bad, bad, bad by LANY

pairings: geto x fem!reader

warnings: MANGA SPOILERS (vol 0, geto's past/high school years) mentions of: killing, curses, death, blood, police, crime, throwing up/gagging. sorcerer au, reader is not a sorcerer. established relationship, pet names, angst to comfort kinda? geto is just a little troubled, lowercase intentional

-

geto has been...off lately. and you're not sure why. he's been coming home later and later each night, causing you to lie awake in your shared bed, staring up at the ceiling, worried out of your mind.

it must be his job.

you've been dating for three years now. you knew before you started to date that he was a jujutsu sorcerer. he told you one night at the fanciest restaurant in tokyo, flushed cheeks and stuttering over his words. you couldn't care less, though. if anything, it was fucking hot to have a sorcerer as a boyfriend.

his job never got in the way of anything, though. he had amazing friends, who you've spent lots of time with. he was always home before dinner, never leaving on missions any longer than two days, even offering to take you along.

the last time that happened was about five months ago.

now it's 3:30 am, and you've found yourself in bed by yourself. again. calling him again, the line goes to voicemail almost instantly. you huff and throw your phone on the bed, watching it bounce before it lands face up. to your surprise, he's calling you back. rushing over, you leap onto the mattress, answering as quickly as possible.

"s-sugu? baby, are you alright?" your voice shakes. you're not sure why your chest feels so tight, why your breaths seem harder and harder to take.

geto feels the same way. he always does after he finishes off another one.

phone between his ear and shoulder, geto stands in front of a public restroom sink, scrubbing his hands for the third time in a row. the cheap soap does nothing to get rid of the blood that stains his fingers, deep in every crevice of his skin. looking at himself in the mirror, he feels an incredible sense of guilt.

"yeah, i'm fine baby. hey can you do me a favor, sweetheart?"

you can hear his voice echoing, almost as if he's in a pool.

"s-sure, where are you?"

geto feels guilty. he doesn't mean for you to be this upset. he also doesn't want to lie to you.

the four bodies behind him in the open stall are making it a little tough.

"oh i've just been finishing up work," one of the bodies, eyes still open, stare right at geto through the reflection of the mirror as he speaks. "i'll be home soon though, darling. i promise."

he hits mute as a shaky sigh leaves his lips. he peeks at his reflection once more, watching as the shirt worn by one of the dead bodies soaks up more blood. one of the bodies lets out a liquidy gurgle that echos off the tile walls. geto can almost see the last bit of life escape them, floating up into the air to join the rest of those that died the same way these ones did.

"what was the favor you needed?"

geto feels sick now. your voice so sweet, so innocent and airy. he can't you're with someone like him.

a killer.

sneaking out of the bathroom and to his car, he unmutes himself.

"could you grab a couple suitcases from the closet? pack up enough for a few days, and could you pack a little for me as well?" he buckles himself in and just as he starts his car, the sound of sirens appear in the distance.

"yeah, i can do that," you stand up, heart still racing. did you have a trip planned?

turning down different back alleys, stalling for a second as the sirens get closer, geto takes a deep breath.

"you're an angel. i'll be there soon. i love you, my perfect girl."

you end the call and begin to do as you were asked. filling the suitcases as quick as you can, you don't pay much attention to the outfits you've created. you don't even know where you're going, anyway. you smile, picturing in your mind a quick little getaway for the two of you. sightseeing, sleeping in, and spending time away from work.

you still feel a little off.

where was he?

the door bursts open, presenting a very flustered geto. his bun is almost out, dark tresses barely hanging at the nape of his neck. the pieces that fell out stick to his face from what looks like sweat. his pupils are blown wide, mouth slightly agape as he breathes heavily. you drop the t-shirt of his out of your hands and scramble to your feet.

"s-sugu? oh my god, what happened to you? did you get mugged? d-did someone try to kill you? oh my god," you gasp, hands reaching for every part of his body to make sure he was in one piece.

geto swallows back the guilt induced vomit that sits at the back of his throat. "no, baby, not at all," he coos down at you, but his eyes look anywhere but your face. they check each window and door, before eyeing the suitcases. "thank you so much for doing this. we're going away for a few days, is that alright?" he says with a smile. cupping your face ever so lightly with his slightly stained fingers. he's thankful you forgot to turn on the lights.

"of course, suguru. are we going far? let me make something to eat," you pull him towards the kitchen, but he tugs you back.

"we can eat when we get there, i promise. let's just get going," he speaks quickly, eyes still checking the windows.

"is everything okay?" you say, copying his stares out the window. he notices and grabs his suitcase and yours, before heading towards the door. he almost throws up again, torn between telling you everything and keeping you in the dark. he swallows hard.

"the car is on, i can explain everything later. we'll be just fine, i promise." you smile, feeling a little more at ease. with a nod, you grab a jacket and head out the door.

as soon as you get to the car, geto opens the passenger door for you and puts the suitcases in the back with speed. you haven't even buckled your seatbelt by the time he starts to drive away.

"it's 4:30 am baby, we don't need to race! it's not like anyone is on the road," you laugh and reach your hand to hold his. he jumps when you touch him. "i'm sorry! i didn't mean to scare you," you mumble, and he gives you a small smile, which fades as soon as the faint sounds of sirens fill the air. his stare jumps up to the rearview mirror, and he takes a sudden sharp turn that has you jumping in your seat.

"suguru! what is going on?"

he turns down another street and speeds up a little bit.

"angel, i've gotten myself into a bit of trouble, okay? everything is gonna be just fi-"

"what did you do?" your voice is stern, but geto gives you a smile, eyes softening as he drives down a back road.

"i'll explain everything later, just like i promised. for now, i need you to trust me, okay?"

your mind and stomach scream no no no at you, but your heart takes over.

"okay, i trust you."

-

you must have fallen asleep at some point on the drive, because when you open your eyes you're met with sunshine and costal views.

"there she is, good morning darling. we're almost there."

blinking a few times and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you realize that you have pulled into a small town next to the ocean. geto appears to be more relaxed. you reach around for your phone, but you can't seem to find it.

"are you looking for your phone?" you nod. "i put it in my bag for you. i thought it would be good for us to stay off of our phones for the next couple of days. just time with each other, how does that sound?" his face beams at you from the driver's seat. you can't say no, especially not when he's being so kind and sweet.

"i think that sounds lovely."

you pull up to a motel, which looks as if it doesn't get a lot of business. you start to feel a little uneasy, and geto can sense that.

"wait right here, i'll get us checked in," he kisses your cheek and walks towards the motel office. now that you're a little more awake, you start to become hyper-aware of your surroundings. based off of the looks, you're at least four hours from home. you start to think a little more. was he running from the cops? what type of trouble is he in?

he returns quickly, room key in hand. he grabs the suitcases out of the car and you follow close behind him all the way to your room. as soon as you enter, he quickly shuts the door and locks it behind him. you have a seat on the old motel bed without a word.

feeling a little more relieved, he sighs and looks at you. worry all over your face, wringing your hands that are placed in your lap.

"isn't this nice? our own little place, right on the ocean. i know how much you love the ocean, we could even go check out the shops later!"

you don't say anything. geto begins to panic.

"are you hungry? would you like me to get some food for us? if you want, we could go-"

"why did you take me here?" your voice is nothing more than a whisper. you feel sick, you know something is terribly wrong. he kneels in front of you on the floor and grabs your hand.

"sweetheart, do you think humans are good people?"

you give him a confused look. "maybe not everyone, but most people i know are good people," you think out loud. geto's stomach feels a little uneasy.

"your asshole manager? you think that guy is a good person?"

"no, not him. but my other coworkers are great people, remember? you've met them!"

of course he has. he's been to many work dinners and events.

he also killed one of them last night, but he won't tell you that.

"darling, why do you think there is so much crime in the world? so many good people like you say, having their lives ruined by these terrible humans. wouldn't the world be a better place if they just...went away?"

your mouth opens slightly and you blink at him a few times. you start to sweat a little bit, and the room feels like it's caving in on the two of you.

"what are you suggesting?"

he comes to sit next to you on the bed and holds you in his arms.

"do you know what i do for work?"

he feels you nod into his chest. "you fight curses, right?"

"that's right. do you know why curses exist?"

you shake your head.

"because of humans. regular humans, like you, who can't fight or see curses. curses only exist because of them. they are able to flow through people and hurt them, which makes my friends and i come in to save them. that doesn't seem very fair, does it?"

you disagree. you know deep down that this isn't right, what he's implying is evil.

"w-well no, but-"

"do you know hard it is to fight curses? to even be around curses?" he stands up, voice raising. hot, angry tears fill his lash line. "do you know how disgusting my cursed technique is?"

your mouth opens and shuts, unable to form any words at all. you want to speak, but you simply cannot find the words to say. you know there is nothing. you can say to help him feel any better.

"i don't know but i want to, i want to understand you better," you mumble, lip quivering and voice cracking slightly. you feel terrible, you had no idea how much pain geto has been in. he paces back and forth in front of you, wiping his tears with his hands. suddenly he stops.

"you'll think that i'm gross, that i'm a monster," he rambles. you stand up, grabbing his hand and holding him close.

"i promise i won't. i love you,"

he takes a deep breath and backs away, leading you back to the bed to sit down. you continue to hold his hands in your own, attempting to provide any sense of comfort.

"i can summon curses. i can call them to help me fight, whenever i need them," he starts, glancing at you to see your reaction. to his surprise, you're completely neutral.

"that sounds really cool, sugu. what do they look like?" you ask, eyes wide and full of curiosity. geto can't help the smile that grows on his face at how innocent you are.

you are exactly why he wants this perfect world.

he raises his hand and a small curse appears. something kind of silly looking, much like a kids drawing with wings. you look at it for a second, before he interupts.

"can you see it?"

you nod. "that's good. some humans can see them, and some can't. this little guy is harmless," he waves his hand and the curse flies away, out the door and into the world.

"can you make bigger ones?"

he chuckles. "yes, some ten times his size, maybe even bigger. they all have different abilities, some are stronger than others," he looks at you once more, relieved to see that you're smiling.

"how do you get them, do you make them?"

geto doesn't say anything, but continues to stare at the carpet at his feet.

"i swallow them," noticing your confused face, he elaborates. "it turns into a ball, fits right in the palm of my hand, almost looks like a crystal ball," he swallows hard. "then i just...swallow it."

you nod and stroke his back. he shivers a little at the thought.

"it tastes so vile, so disgusting. i can't even describe the taste," he shakes his head, tears brimming his eyes once more. "tastes like death. which make sense," he sniffles.

"why, sugu?"

he looks at you, tears streaming down his face at this point. you brush them away with your thumb, but they keep falling.

"i'm a killer. you don't deserve me. i try to make this world a better place, one where i don't have to watch my friends die. one where i don't even have to worry about curses, one where i don't have to think about ever losing you," he raises his voice, each word coming out through choked sobs.

"i want to keep you safe. i want to be away from this, from everything. i want to protect you," he cries, and you pull him close. "god, everyone probably thinks i'm so fucked up. they probably thing im ruining your life,"

you shake your head. "people can think whatever they want." with a nod, he lays back down on the bed. you push the fallen strands out of his face, playing with them a bit to help him calm down.

"how long do you want to stay here?"

he wipes his face and props himself up on his elbows. "i dunno, couple of days at least,"

you nod. the two of you sit in silence. geto has run out of things to say, as have you.

it’s light outside, sunny and bright. the exact opposite of the mood inside of the dingy motel room. seagulls sing outside as they perch, happy tunes that almost make you laugh. you’re not sure what to think, what to feel.

“are we gonna be alright, sugu?”

he sighs. “i think so.”

[starstruckkittensweets]

“Everything” Pt. I | Dabi x Reader

“You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.”

Fandom: My Hero Academia  Pairing: Dabi x Reader  Words: 13.9k 

A/N: I’m a slut for Dabi. Scratch that—I am a MASSIVE slut for Dabi. And that couch scene in 6x17 only solidified my obsession with him. I have no excuse for this fic, except that it’s angsty, filthy, and way too long for its own good. I just have too many thoughts on Dabi as both a character and a love interest and I shamelessly projected myself onto Reader the entire time writing this. I wanna hold him and tell him it’s all gonna be okay, but at the same time I wanna fuck his brains out like there’s no tomorrow. The second half will be uploaded later this week, once I finish editing it. I hope you enjoy! (Now let me go hide my face in shame...)

Also a huge thank you to my dear friend @lostinwildflowers​, who’s just as thirsty for Dabi as I am! Birch, it’s because of you cheering me on that this fic finally got finished! (And further down the rabbit hole we go!) 

Warnings: 18+ only (minors please DNI), fem-bodied reader, spoilers for Season 6 (up to Episode 17 at least), Reader and Dabi may or may not be in the healthiest mindset to fuck right now (that won’t stop em though), Reader is somewhat dependent on Dabi, oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, vaginal sex, spanking, quirk use, branding, crying (Reader is a bit of a crybaby but she means well), hair pulling, fingering, blood tears, Dabi’s an asshole and doesn’t want to admit that Reader actually loves and cares for him 

Part I | Part II 

You’ve been to this mansion exactly three times before.

The first time was in the middle of the fall, when the leaves were crisp and the winds were brisk. It was an old shabby building in the middle of nowhere, worn out and run down by the countless inhibitors that came before you. At the time Dabi had brushed it off, claiming they were no longer a threat to you, that it was now the perfect little getaway from the rest of the world. (As long as the rest of the League was off elsewhere, of course.)

He had wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you down on that ratty old couch, the one with faded gold carvings and fluff poking out of the torn cushions. You had been a little wary at first; it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant smell in the world. But he kept you busy with his burning kisses and wandering hands, and eventually you dozed off right there in his arms, with his chest pressed against your back.

The second time was in the dead of winter, just before the New Year. You had forced him down on that damn couch and pressed every wad of gauze you could find to the fresh wounds on his arms and torso. The bastard had been too rough and ripped his staples again, a thin trickle of red seeping down his skin. You had yelled at him for that, as though you were his mother and not just the girl he’d preferred to keep his bed warm. So loud your voice rang throughout the halls of the mansion, enough for Twice and Toga to peek their heads around the corner to see what all the fuss was about.

The third time was a little more pleasant, on the eve of the eighteenth of January. A night of strolling around the city too far from home led you back to the quiet mansion—luckily you were the only ones there at the time. The two of you were tipsy on whatever booze Dabi had managed to get his hands on that day; your lips were thrumming from his kisses, your body as light as a feather in his arms. He carried you into a secluded room on the second floor, the one he’d claimed for his own so long ago, and his fingers pressing into the meat of your thighs. Before you knew it you were being crushed beneath him on the bed, moaning his name into his mouth as he slipped your shirt over your head.

Neither of you awoke until late the next morning, when he oh-so generously accompanied you on the walk back to your apartment, pulling a worn black hoodie over your head to hide the bruises on your neck and arms. It was frayed at the sleeves and smelled of smoke, but it was the warmest thing you’d ever worn in your life.

And now you’re standing outside this mansion a fourth time, with that old hoodie hugging your chest, keeping out the last winter chill of the season.

The League has never kept the doors locked—both for easy access and knowing just how they managed to wipe out the last group that lived in this mansion—so it’s not hard to slip in through the front. The halls are dark and silent, the scent of musk so strong you cover your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie. Not like smoke is much better, but still…

And that’s when you hear it: a faint chuckle, deep and raspy, at the very end of the hall. The slightest flicker of blue coming to life among the shadows.

You swallow once, stilling your trembling fingers in the pockets of the hoodie, and start to walk forward.

He’s standing there in the middle of the living room (at least that’s what Toga calls it; it only has a couch and a few dressers for decorations, mostly the knives she likes to keep on display for the rest of you to see). Your jaw drops at the sight of marred skin, a deep purple shade stretching across the length of his back, over his arms and down to his hipbones. He grunts as he presses down hard on one of the staples in his wrist, locking it back into place with a sigh.

You gasp, but he doesn’t turn around at the sound. Instead he rolls his shoulders back, cocks his head as he focuses on another staple splitting his skin apart.

“Dabi.” Your voice is a whisper, too quiet for him to hear. Or maybe he’s just ignoring me. You clear your throat and try again: “Dabi, you’re hurt. I can—”

He says your name then, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. He heaves a sigh as he tugs out a rusted staple from his wrist, flicking it to the ground before reaching for a fresh one on the dresser closest to him.

“I told you to stay away. So go home.”

Your breath catches in your throat; your heartbeat echoes in your ears. The black hoodie suddenly feels too snug around your neck as you glare at him, at the ragged skin his flames have left behind.

“You’re not serious. Two weeks—no, three weeks of complete radio silence, and that’s all you have to say to me?” It’s getting harder to stare at him when your eyesight’s getting all blurry. You brush your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie, but that just makes you feel even worse. Damn smoke.

He doesn’t answer, only winces as another new staple buries itself into the skin of his wrist. You take a step forward, ready to clean the blood off his back or smack him upside the head, you’re not sure which one just yet.

But then he’s staring at you from over his shoulder, and all you can see are the patches beneath his eyes, the fresh burns stretching past the silver staples in his cheeks.

“Why are you here?” he asks, and you shiver at the forlorn look in those beautiful blue eyes. “You’re supposed to be home by now, it’s getting late. Leave already.”

“No.” The words pour out of you so fast you barely register what you’re saying. “Not again. I’m not leaving after you—” You swallow the lump in your throat, well aware of those eyes on you. “…After seeing that video—I couldn’t even…”

Fuck, it seems so long ago. Nearly a month of silence from Dabi, of sitting in your apartment wondering if you should leave the window unlocked for him even though he hates it, of checking your phone for any messages from unknown numbers, of constantly wondering if there was anything you could’ve said or done to keep him from walking out that night—

To staring at the little TV in your living room, a broken mug lying at your feet, your second cup of coffee soaking through the carpet. To feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you saw him, burn scars and all, revealing the truth about himself and the family he’d come from.

“Touya.”

It used to be your little secret. Something he mumbled into your hair as you patched him up one night, assuring him and yourself that he wouldn’t die. Something you’d panted into his mouth as he pressed you into the mattress in your bedroom, curling his fingers around your own. Something he’d trusted you with.

And now everyone knows about it; his family, his story, his name. Everyone knows and he can’t take it back.

But a part of you thinks he doesn’t want to take it back. That wild look in his eye, that gleeful smile that nearly rips his staples apart. The world is in shambles because of him and he fucking loves it.

“Touya,” you try again, “let me help you. You…you need to be cleaned up, I can take care of you…”

He makes no move to run as you step closer, hands barely brushing his ragged arms. Tears are spilling down your cheeks, mirroring the trickles of blood sliding down his chest. You can remember burning your hand on the stove so many years ago, even when your mother warned you to be careful. You had whined about the pain until she wrapped it up and gave you a kiss, chiding you for acting like such a child.

You can’t imagine being burned like this—your body being eaten by your own flames—the thought makes your stomach roll into itself.

“C’mon.” You pull him closer to the dresser, grimacing at the tray of fresh staples in front of you (as well as its bloodied twin). A familiar dance for the two of you. “I got you.”

You’re safe with me.

He’s silent as you clean out his wrists, leaving bloody tissues all across the dresser and floor, wincing at every bit of silver biting into his skin. Open, close, open, close. He doesn’t complain, not even once as you try your best to stitch him up. You keep your mouth shut, even though your tongue is burning with all the things you want to say. Too scared that even the slightest bit of noise will chase him off again, and you’ll be left at square one once more.

When the blood is cleaned off and the staples are secured, you steal a glance at the palm of his hand. Cringing as the rough purple skin stretches all the way up to his fingers. Can he still feel anything? Or are his nerves shot for good?

The thought makes your stomach churn. Without thinking you lean into his palm, splaying his fingers across your cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sor—”

“For what?”

His voice is rough, and when he pulls his hand away you want to burst into tears. He gives your head a messy pat, mussing up your hair before walking to the other end of the room.

“You got nothin’ to feel sorry for, doll. So don’t go saying shit that’s not true.”

Your tongue feels heavy against my lips. “W-what?”

“You patched me up, I won’t bleed out. So you can go already.” He sprawls himself across that ratty old couch, legs hanging off the arm as he drapes a hand across his forehead. “Leave.”

“But… I don’t want to…”

Suddenly you feel like a child again, clinging to your parents and begging them for just five more minutes of fun before bedtime. There’s a horrible nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, laughing at you, taunting you for how stupid you are.

He doesn’t want you here. Just get out of here before you make things worse.

But you know that if you walk out that door right now, you may never see this man in the flesh ever again.

You can’t let him get away. Not again—not ever.

“I’m staying.” Dabi’s eyes are practically glowing in the dark, watching your every move as you cross the room to follow him. “You don’t get to tell me that after all this time. So I’m staying, whether you like it or not. So stop trying to get me to leave!”

The chuckle he gives sends a chill down your spine. He leans further into the couch and rests his arm against his forehead.

“Everyone leaves sooner or later, dollface.”

Oh.

That’s where his mind is at right now.

He likes to put up a front. Likes to hide behind sarcastic comments and unimpressed looks. Shows off his power any chance he gets just to remind everyone how strong he is, how easily he could incinerate everyone with a single flick of his hand.

But you can still see the little boy with white hair, begging for his father’s approval, masking his sadness with a smile.

“…Well, I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.” You flump down on the floor with a huff, back pressing into the worn out couch, legs sprawled out in front of you. “So get used to having me around.”

He doesn’t seem happy, but at least he’s not trying to get you to leave anymore. For now, at least.

The two of you bask in the silence of the shadowy room, neither one acknowledging the other. You pull your knees up to your chest and keep your eyes forward, staring at the sliver of moonlight that seeps through the single window ahead, as Dabi’s soft breathing lulls you into a semi-relaxed state.

There are so many things you want to tell him, to ask him, to scream at him. Why didn’t you come home after that night? What did I do wrong to make you stay away? Why do you insist on pushing me away when you know all I want to do is help you?

It’s still so raw, the memory of his last night in your apartment. Early February—just two days shy of Valentine’s Day, the prick—at close to three in the morning. One minute you were sleeping soundly in your bed with his arms wrapped around your waist; the next you were begging him not to leave, fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

Demanding to know why he decided to leave after all this time, after so many months of bliss. Recalling the promise you’d made to him on his birthday in this very house, in the old room he’d claimed for himself. And when that didn’t work you started throwing things—pillows, clothes, his stupid pack of cigarettes—anything you could get your hands on. Anything to get him to stay, even for just one more night.

But he’d pulled on his shirt and walked out the door—the first time he’d ever used the door instead of the window. He left you there in the living room, tearing at your hair as your chest wracked with sobs.

I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking—

“Still have that shitty hoodie, huh?”

His voice is raspy when he speaks, a low sound that snaps your head from your arms. You try not to look at him as you nod, hugging your knees closer to your chest. A whiff of smoke crosses your nose when you tug the collar of the hoodie over your mouth, as though it were a scarf.

“Looks good on you, doll.” Dabi gives a breathless laugh, and it’s hard not to turn your head to look at him. Of all the things he could talk to you about, he chooses that?

Maybe it’s just his way of appeasing you, as though you’ll forget the last few weeks ever happened.

“Better on you than me; I always hated wearing it. Too stuffy and hot. It always got—”

“Caught on your staples, I know.” The words are already falling from your mouth; no matter how hard you grip your arms or bite your tongue, they just keep on coming. “That’s why you don’t like to wear sweaters, they make you itch and you overheat way too fast.”

Silence—for a moment you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. You swallow hard and twist your head, nails biting into the sleeves of the hoodie. His arm is over his eyes, but you can still see the slight quiver in his jaw when you start talking.

“I know you can’t stand being in a car for more than ten minutes, or else you’ll start to feel sick. I know you like to drink but not too much, because you hate the way it makes you feel like you’re losing control of your body. You hate the way your head starts swimming and you have to lay down with a rag on your head. I know you prefer Camels but you can’t always find them, and that’s why I keep a stash of them on the kitchen counter, in case you end up running out.”

Your hands are clenched into fists now, your heart leaping in your throat with every word you say. You have no idea if he’s even listening, or if he’s fallen asleep from exhaustion or boredom. But there’s no stopping the words from spilling out, your tongue burning with every syllable, every breath you suck in just to calm your racing heart.

“You like sleeping on your left side rather than your right because you think it helps you fall asleep faster—and it doesn’t hurt as much, the worst of your scars are on your right side. You’re a fan of that special cherry-scented shampoo in my bathroom, the one you always use whenever you beg me to bathe with you. You still have that stupid keychain I got for you last Christmas, the one that splits into two halves of a heart. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you leave out some food for the stray cats in the alley behind my apartment—because I know it’s you. Only you could leave a tray of cat food smelling like an ashtray, dummy.”

That was quite a sight to wake up to: a ragtag group of kittens right below your kitchen window, lapping up food from a little silver tin—something that had definitely not been there the night before. And while the whole alleyway smelled of smoke and ash, there wasn’t a single cigarette stub to be found on the pavement. Too worried one of the cats might decide to chew on them, probably. As much as he tried to downplay it, Dabi did have a soft spot for animals. He had a heart of his own, somewhere in that scarred, ragged chest of his.

Which is why this whole situation hurts you so much. You know he cares about whatever kind of bond the two of you have. You know he’s so much more than what he claims to be. You know that deep down inside him, he’s still the boy with the bright blue eyes—Touya Todoroki, the boy who dreamed of becoming a hero one day.

I know you, so let me in. I’ll still be by your side, no matter what you do.

“And I know that I could never leave you when you’re in pain like this, even if you tell me to.” It’s hard to keep your voice soft, but you try your best anyway. Anything for him. “Even if you scream at me and try to scare me, I’ll never leave you. Not now, and not ever. So please, just…”—suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, your eyes growing blurry at the edges—“…let me help you.”

He could scoff and brush you off. He could glare and demand for you to get out. He could crush you so easily, referring to the last actual conversation you had, where he claimed you were nothing more than a way for him to blow off some steam. He could incinerate this entire mansion, taking you down with it—and quite possibly himself. But no matter what happens, or what he may do, you have to stand your ground. You made a promise not only to him, but to yourself as well. To keep the two of you safe, even if the entire world stood against you. To love him until you took your dying breath, and to trust in him to do the same for you.

I don’t care what you’ve done or who you are, or even what you plan to do. No matter what happens, I will always have a special place in my heart for you.

Those were the exact words you’d said to him on his birthday, in this very mansion. And you still meant every single one of them, as if you’d said them just moments ago.

“…C’mere.”

Your mouth falls open when he finally moves his arm away from his face, only to drum his fingers against his bare chest. Those blue eyes are unnaturally bright, beckoning you closer—as though he’s the devil you’ve been warned to stay away from your entire life.

It’s a bit awkward at first, stumbling off the floor and crawling up the length of his body. But there’s no word of protest, no sign of discomfort as you throw one leg over his waist, settling down on his hips as gently as you can. Suddenly those scarred palms are stretching out to you, and you lean in to press a line of kisses across the fresh purple marks.

“Stubborn little shit.” The words are harsh but there’s no bite to them—only a soft glint in those beautiful eyes of his. “It’s too late for you to head back home already, isn’t it?”

You give him a shrug, dragging your mouth to the inner part of his wrist. “I guess so. Like hell am I leaving you here all alone with those injuries.”

You both know he’s lived through worse, a few misplaced staples aren’t going to kill him overnight. But you’ll take any excuse you can get to stay with him, even for just a bit longer.

He hums at that, leaning his head against the arm of the couch. His fingers are warm against your skin, brushing across your forehead as he sweeps a few stray pieces of hair off to the side. When he’s done you take ahold of his wrist again, pressing a few kisses against the fresh staples in his palm, as soft as you can manage. That gets a laugh from him—short and breathless, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Never know when to quit, do you? You keep chasin’ after me, even when I tell you not to. I thought you had a brain in that pretty little head of yours, doll.”

“I do, and I could’ve easily let you bleed out from your wounds.” You run your hands across the staples on his chest, down his abdomen before working your way back up his arms. “But I didn’t, because I’m just that kind of person.”

“Hm, a good girl who’s got a soft spot for a dangerous villain?”

“You’re not a villain,” you tell him, even though you both know that’s a blatant lie. “And I don’t have just a soft spot for you. I…”

One minute the words are there on your tongue—and the next your lips are pressed together, too afraid to speak as those burning blue eyes bleed into your own.

I love you. That’s all you have to say; three simple words, and your fate is sealed.

So…why are they so fucking hard to say out loud?

You do love him. You love him so much your chest aches whenever you look at him. It hurts whenever you know he’s putting himself in danger, risking his life to destroy what made him this way in the first place. He tries to hide it with a cocky smirk and a few flirtatious comments, but you know him better than that. This is the same man who huddles deep under the blankets of your bed with you, even though he claims they’re too scratchy against his skin. The same man who rests his head in your lap and lets you play with his hair, who will sometimes ask about whatever book you’re currently reading at the moment. The same man you’ve caught, on at least two separate occasions, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, hunched over the running sink, a thin trail of blood trickling from the staples embedded beneath his eyes. The same man who doesn’t even protest as you wrap your arms around him and lead him back to bed, reminding him of just how much he’s needed—how much you need him—with gentle kisses and soft-spoken words.

You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.

He reaches up and presses his thumb and forefinger into your chin, bringing your face down to his. Apparently you’re taking too long to respond.

“Listen to me, doll.” A shiver sweeps down your spine at the familiar pet name. “Are you really willing to sign your life away for a piece of shit like me?”

There he goes again, degrading himself and his worth. Sometimes you wish you could meet the man who did this to him. Stare his father straight in the eye and demand to know what prompted him to treat his own son this way. As though if he wasn’t the epitome of perfection, he was just a worthless waste of space.

“We’ve been over this, Touya.” You can see the twitch of his jaw at his name, his real name spilling from your lips. “You are not a piece of shit. And I wouldn’t be signing anything away; I knew damn well what I was getting myself into when I let you kiss me for the first time.”

A memory from so long ago, of drunken laughter and his heavy coat draped over your shoulders—and your incessant whining that the sleeves weren’t long enough to keep you warm. He had rolled his eyes and shut you up with a kiss, before scooting over to sit behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Claiming that he would keep you warm instead, while you’d been too stunned to speak. Too preoccupied with the taste of his lips—of booze and smoke…and of the slightest scent of cedarwood.

“You’re a pain in my ass and you always know what to say to push my buttons, and I’m still pissed at you for leaving that night—and not coming to visit afterwards. You’re an asshole, no way around it.”

You can feel the tension slipping from your shoulders, the cloud of frustration finally easing from your mind as you reach down to take his face in your hands. Palms pressed against his ragged skin, thumbs grazing the staples below his eyes, savoring the way his lips part at your touch, the way his eyelids flutter as you lean in close. His fingers are burning against your waist, but you trust him not to burn you to ash. You still trust him, even though he’s given you every reason not to.

“But you’re mine. My pain in the neck, my villain, whatever you want to call yourself. My Dabi, my Touya—it doesn’t matter to me, as long as I get to have you.”

It’s the closest you can get to those three damn words without bursting into tears. But he seems to understand, because suddenly he’s twisting his hands into your hair and yanking you down for a searing kiss.

You can remember the first time he kissed you, how you knew you would never get tired of feeling his mouth on your own, or tasting his lips, or seeing the smug look on his face as he pulled himself away, just to see you breathless and begging for more. It’s still the same now, more or less, but with an underlying heat between your bodies. An undeniable wave of desire, crashing over your heads until the only thing you can see, touch, taste, is each other.

A groan slips through his mouth as he tugs you up the length of his body, mismatched lips finding their way to the familiar pulse point in your neck. He’s quick with his work, sucking a fresh bruise just below your jaw, where he knows his hoodie won’t be able to reach. It’s hard not to whine as he works his way down your neck, nipping and sucking as you bury your face and fingers into his soft white hair.

Fuck, you’ve missed this. How long has it been since he’s held you against his body like this, drawing out this wild side, this primal need for him, that only he can hope to tame?

Too long—too fucking long.

“D-Dabi,” you’re panting against his hair, moaning as he ruts his hips up into yours. “…It’s too dark in here—n-need to see you—”

He’s sitting up in a flash, one arm coiled around your waist with his other stretched out behind him. A gentle stream of flame erupts from his palm, illuminating his eyes before settling into the fireplace beside the couch. A thin trail of smoke rises from his wrist, reminding you of all the cigarettes he would smoke out on your balcony in the dead of night.

“Better, doll?”

“Better,” you whisper, and he smirks before pressing his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you forget about everything that’s led you up to this point. For a moment there’s no war between heroes and villains, no innocent civilians caught in the crossfire, no heartbroken memories or damning videos. There’s just the two of you within these four walls, all alone for the first time in almost a month.

And fuck if you’re not going to take advantage of every single second you can.

You push down on his chest, mindful of the scars and staples, and he falls back against the arm of the couch with a grunt. That lopsided smirk, the mischievous glint in his eye—he looks way too pleased with himself, a surefire warning to be on guard. He can be dangerously unpredictable in bed, more so after a mission or a fight with some heroes. All that adrenaline pumping through his veins gives him an extra edge, one he’s all too willing to exploit when he’s tangled up with you.

“Let’s get this off,” he mumbles, lifting the hem of your hoodie, his hoodie over your stomach.

“I’ll be cold,” you whine, but you still let him slip it over your head.

“Don’t worry, doll.” He tosses it to the floor, his mismatched lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I’ll be sure to keep you warm.”

Your shirt follows not too long after, and then he’s kissing his way across your chest, needy fingers already fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You roll your eyes and bat his hands away, and it’s hard not to giggle at the unimpressed look on his face. As though you had the sheer audacity to deny him of what’s rightfully his.

“Your turn, dummy. I’m not gonna be the only one who gets stripped down tonight.”

“Aww, this isn’t enough for you?” He motions to his bare chest with a wave of his hand, looking even more offended when you shake your head at him.

“No, not yet.” He groans when you shift a bit lower in your place against his hips, thumbing the silver button of his pants, licking your lips at the thin trail of white hair that disappears below the waistband. “I wanna see even more of you.”

“Then you better work for it,” he growls, but the feral look in his eye and the way his lip curls over his teeth tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He nestles into the arm of the couch, hands resting behind his head, as he gives an experimental buck of his hips—one that makes you gasp and your face flush with heat.

“You want it that badly, doll? Then show me what you’re made of.”

“Oh I plan to, Touya.”

You crush your mouth against his own, fumbling with that tiny silver button, sighing into his mouth when you finally manage to unclasp it. Your fingers dip down beneath the waistband, down the fabric of his boxers and over the slick patch of skin beneath. He’s so hot, literal flames coursing through his veins with every breath he takes. So dangerous, so lethal.

But you’ve never been scared of him, and you don’t plan on starting now.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip his pants down to his thighs. But when you drag them down to his knees his hand suddenly curls around your wrist, freezing you in place.

His eyes are wide, his mouth agape, his fingers trembling against my skin.

“Doll…”

It’s not a warning, rather a plea. And it makes your heart ache in your chest all over again.

He’s always kept some of his clothes on during sex, even if they irritate his skin. Usually it’s enough for him to lower his pants just enough to free himself, especially if you’re in a well-lit room. Unless you’re in complete and total darkness, he refuses to strip down completely when he’s with you.

Part of you thinks he’s ashamed of the scars. You know exactly how much of his body they cover, from his face, down his chest, and over his legs. But you’ve never shied away from them, even when they’re still fresh and steaming. They’re just a part of him, the same as his eyes or his hair or that sharp tongue he likes to flaunt around. Another bit of Dabi you’ve grown to admire and love.

“Let me see,” you whisper, kissing the healthy swath of skin on his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Touya, and I want to see all of you.”

Touya, Touya, Touya. How many times has that name crossed your lips? How many nights had he drawn it out of you, breathless and soft as you squirmed beneath his body? How many times did you whisper it into your pillow, tears staining your lashes, as your last night replayed itself over and over again in your head?

Such a lovely name, and you’re still so proud of him for trusting you with it.

“Because you’re mine, right?” His fingers slowly unravel themselves from your wrist. Slowly, but surely. “You’re mine, as much as I’m yours… If you’ll have me, that is,” you add with a nervous giggle.

You’ve been so caught up in wanting to prove to him that you want him, that you never stopped to check if he wants you in the same way. I guess that’s what I get for being so eager.

He scoffs, tangling his fingers in your hair once more. “Fuck, you know I want you, dollface.”

Your chest swells with pride—and something else you’re not quite ready to put a label on just yet.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now lift your hips, I wanna see you.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, the sting of staples as he kicks his heavy boots and pants off and onto the dusty floor. Large patches stretch along his legs, marred skin mixed with healthy flesh, rusty staples and crude stitching piecing him all together. It’s a sight that makes your chest ache, one that would’ve made your stomach roll at one point or another. Just another reason for you to despise the bastard who did this to him.

His kisses are light against your lips, a stark contrast to the harsh rut of his hips beneath you. Trace every bit of skin and staples you can find with your fingers, ragged and smooth, until it blends together beneath your palms. Until the only thing you can feel is Dabi.

He manages to slip your pants down over your ass, letting you lean on him just enough to slide out of them and toss them on the floor. That gets a chuckle out of both of you; it’s not exactly easy to undress while simultaneously trying not to fall off this old fucking couch. For a brief moment you wonder if you should move upstairs to an actual bed, but that thought quickly turns to dust when he dips a finger into your panties, and you realize you can’t fucking wait any longer.

“Oh? So fucking wet already, aren’t you?”

He smirks against your mouth, dragging a couple of fingers across the slick patch of skin. You gasp and roll your hips, and he seems to gain some of his confidence back—you can feel it in the way he touches you, his fingers teasing your soaked slit.

“Tell me, did you just get this wet for me now, or did you walk in here already dripping like a bitch in heat?”

A shudder courses through your veins, nails finding purchase in his scarred shoulders. Not too rough, you don’t want him to start bleeding again, not so—

“Answer me.”

You’re squirming in his lap as he spreads your folds apart, his thumb barely ghosting over your clit. But when you try to squeeze your thighs together he tightens his grip and slaps your ass hard.

“J-just now,” you manage to choke out between gasps, “…I-I swear—”

“Hm, my pretty doll,” he whispers, and his fingers curl around your chin to pull you closer, “for some reason, I don’t fucking believe you.”

He’s pulling away all too soon, smirking when a whine slips past your mouth. He shifts himself lower on the couch, his head resting on the cushion rather than the arm. He licks his lips, brings his hand to his face—the same one he just had buried between your thighs—and taps his mouth with the tip of his finger.

“C’mon, doll. Sit on my face like a good girl.”

It’s almost laughable how fast you’re tearing your panties off, absolutely pathetic how easily you submit to his will. It’s been too long since you’ve had a night like this, a night where the only two people in the world are you and him.

He groans when you settle yourself over his face, nails digging into the ratty arm of the sofa, shivering at the touch of his hands on your waist. His palms are warm—too warm to be natural. And sure enough you can see a wisp of blue emitting from his palm, before he tugs your entire weight down to sit on his face.

“Dabi, wait—”

Your breath catches at the first brush of his tongue, that familiar piercing he has right on the tip—shit, he knows just how that drives me crazy—

“Y-you’re staples!” Another gasp as he holds you in place, his palms heating up ever so slightly against your outer thighs. “Just d-don’t rip them out—ah—be c-careful!”

“’S fine,” he mumbles, pulling himself away just enough to lick at his wet lips, “I know you’ll just patch me up again if I tear them out.”

You don’t even have time to argue before he’s forcing you down on his face again, lapping at your pussy like a starved man. It’s all so exhilarating—the heat of his hands, the slight pinch of the staples in his jaw, the way his tongue slides against your folds in every way imaginable—

Suddenly his lips find their way around your clit, sucking hard and fast—and you sink your nails into the white roots of his hair.

“Dabi!”

You’re grinding yourself on his face now, gasping as each thrust brings you right against his tongue, his nose bumping against your burning clit. His eyes are glowing beneath your body, matching the shade of the flames in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the two of you. So warm, so comforting, so powerful—and absolutely feral.

He slips his tongue inside, tightens his grip on your thighs as he rocks you back and forth on his face. Your palms are slick with sweat, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you scream out his name at the top of your lungs. So loud you’re surprised any heroes that may be nearby don’t start breaking down the doors and crashing through the windows. Though you have no doubt in your mind Dabi would refuse to stop at this point, no matter what could be lurking beyond these walls.

“Dabi, Dabi, Dabi…” His eyes flicker up to yours, his eyebrow quirked and his nose pressing against your clit. “I—ngh—I can’t take it—please, let me come—”

Like he needs to be told twice.

His nails sink into the flesh of your thighs—part of you is already wondering if you’ll still have bruises by tomorrow morning—and he starts thrusting your hips against his tongue at a rapid pace. You try your best to keep up and rock yourself against him but he’s just too fast. Never mind the strain on your muscles, the coil in your stomach that’s growing tighter and tighter with every buck of your hips. You might as well be a toy at this point, boneless and pretty, made for his pleasure rather than your own.

A doll. His doll.

And suddenly you’re bursting at the seams, the corners of your eyes sparkling with stars, the coil in your stomach finally snapping apart. Dabi’s all too eager to lap up your release, his tongue making you shiver as you gush all over his face.

“Such a good girl,” his voice is raspy as he finally lifts you off of him, circling his hands over the fresh marks on your thighs.

Your sight’s a little hazy, but you can still make out a few split staples on each side of his mouth, ripped apart between burned and healthy skin. But he’s on you before you can say a word, hoisting you into his arms and pulling you against his chest, with your legs wrapped around his waist. He presses his mouth to yours, dragging his tongue across your own, smirking when you gasp at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Still taste so fucking good, dollface.” Suddenly he’s pushing his hands on your chest, caging you against the cushions of the couch, his elbows on either side of your head. “I think you’re ready for my fingers now. You think so?”

You’re nodding as hard as you can, nearly clunking your foreheads together, and he lets out one of those rare laughs you’ve come to love so much.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, yes—fuck, I’m ready!”

This is Dabi in his element: painfully patient, well aware of the power he holds over your body, and relishing every single second of it.

He hums in delight, slipping a finger beneath the strap of your bra, resting against your shoulder. “Take this off for me—unless you want it turned to ash.”

You’re certain the clasp snaps apart with how fast you rip it off, tossing it over the arm of the couch. He smirks again as he lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your breast. A stark contrast to the primal way he was handling you earlier, but it makes you whine all the same.

He’s slow with his movements now, kneading your breasts together, pressing a line of kisses down your chest, dragging his tongue against the pulse point in your neck. He’s so soft and gentle you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, the exhaustion from your orgasm finally catching up to me.

“Dabi,” your voice is soft against his temple, “Dabi, I—ah!”

He slides a finger inside, smirking down as he brushes his mouth against your forehead.

“Eyes on me, doll. Don’t want you dozing off on me just yet, now do we?”

You can’t find the words to answer him as he adds another finger, curling them upward, drawing out another pathetic whine from the pit of your chest.

“We’re not even close to bein’ done for the night, so you just keep those pretty little eyes open for me, and let me do all the work. You understand?”

You start to nod but think the better of it, opting to choke out, “Y-yeah, I do…”

“Hm, so you can listen.” He starts pumping his fingers at a gentle pace, keeping his other arm beside your head on the couch. You can’t stop yourself from squirming beneath him as he curls his fingers, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

“D-Dabi—”

“Good girl,” he hisses against your temple, “good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s achingly slow with his thrusts, dragging his fingers against every inch of you, every bit of flesh he can reach. Your hands find their way around his shoulder blades, nails cutting into the scarred skin as he presses down hard on your clit. You’re squealing against his mouth now, dragging your hands down the ragged skin, wincing when you pull away and see a faint shadow of red beneath your nails.

“Shit, I’m so s-sorry,” the bastard’s still pumping his fingers into you, “I-I didn’t mean to m-make you bleed—”

But he’s quick to shush you, his other hand hovering over your neck. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, pretty girl, it’s not important.”

Like hell it is, I’m not patching you up again just because you like it rough—

“Ah, there it is.” He smirks as he brushes his fingers upward, hitting that special spot that has you whining and squirming and digging your nails even deeper into his skin. “You gonna come for me, doll? Be my good girl and squirt all over my fingers?”

Your chest is heaving, legs raised to wrap themselves around his hips, gasping out his name as he drives his fingers deeper into your body.

“Y-yes, Dabi—fuck!” You’re so close, that familiar coil winding up in the pit of your stomach, almost there, almost there—

“That’s it, come for me. Make a mess for me, doll. Come on—oh, that’s it—so fucking good for me, aren’t ya?”

You’re shuddering against his burned chest, carving your nails into his skin as the coil finally explodes. You can feel yourself clamping down hard on his fingers, legs jerking as he traces his thumb over your clit, his voice as he mumbles a slew of filthy words against your ear.

“Hey, keep your eyes open.” He taps your cheek, leaving a smear of your juices on your skin. But he’s all too eager to press his lips to it and clean you off. “Turn around, doll, get on your knees. Can you do that for me?”

Anything for you, but your tongue is too thick to get the words out. Instead you give him a nod, twisting your body around as he shuffles himself off of you. Before you know it you’re leaning against the arm of the couch, grasping at the torn fabric as he settles himself behind you. There’s a soft rustling sound as he slides his boxers down, but when you try to glance back at him his hand curls around the back of your head, keeping your head forward and hanging over the arm of the couch.

“W-wanna see you…”

“Later, pretty girl. You’ll get to see me later.”

There’s a familiar bite to his tone; not the one that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, but the kind that makes your hands twitch and your throat burn. He’s still doubting the way he looks, even after everything you’ve done so far. Does he still not trust you enough to see all of him like you let him see all of you?

But then your mind goes blank as he leans into you, hands hot against your hips, the wet sound of slick filling your ears as he takes his cock in his hand. He thumps it against your clit, and the edge of the piercing on the tip has you trembling all over again.

“Deep breaths for me,” he mumbles, his breath hot against your nape, “deep breaths, doll…”

He pushes himself in, bit by bit, groaning when you whine his name beneath him. He’s stretching you out, so tight and warm you think you might burst, the collection of piercings adorning his cock making your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every ridge of skin, every touch of metal and breath against your body sends you over the edge, sucking him in as he bottoms out inside you with a moan.

“Fuck, so tight…”

It’s all too much; the heat of his body against your own, the touch of his lips on your neck, and the throb of his cock deep inside you. Suddenly you’re dragging the back of your hand over your eyes, praying with everything you have that Dabi won’t see what he does to you.

It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d have him like this again. Not after that night…

Not after what had been said. Not after he’d screamed that he wanted nothing more to do with you, that you were just a body to keep him busy in the dead of night. Not after you’d told him to get out of your apartment, to walk out of your life forever, that you would be better off without him. The words still rang in your head, echoing through those late nights in your bed, the sheets damp with sweat and the pillow stained with tears.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, I was only trying to hurt you. Just like you hurt me. But I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, because I—

“Still with me, doll?” You swallow hard and nod your head, keeping your eyes on the arm of the couch. His hands are surprisingly soft against your hips. “Gonna start moving, you ready?”

You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his skin, both burned and smooth, against your own. “Of course I am. Just fuck me already.”

He’s steady at first, mindful of his size and your position on the couch. Rolling his hips into your own, massaging your hips with his scarred palms, the occasional curse slipping through his mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve found yourself in a situation like this; despite your best efforts, you haven’t been with anyone else since that last night. Every face, hand, pair of lips against your own reminds you of him.

But now you have him, after all this time, and you’ll be damned if you don’t have him at least try to make up for the month of hell he put you through.

You’re thrusting your hips against his own, relishing the groan and startled look in his eye when you gaze up at him from over your shoulder. “I said fuck me, didn’t I?” Come on, I know you can do better than that. “So don’t hold back.”

And suddenly he’s wrapping a fist around your hair, rutting his hips into yours like an animal in heat. The wet sound of his skin slapping against your own, his cock sliding in and out of you, the feral groan he lets out in the form of your name—it’s too much too soon, leaving you gasping for air over the arm of the couch.

“Little fucking slut, aren’t ya? Always so eager for my cock. Tell me,” he sneers, and you jolt when his breath clouds over the shell of your ear, “did you come all the way out here tonight hoping to get your pretty little brains fucked out?”

Not entirely—the possibility hadn’t even crossed your mind on the trek here. But that’s not what comes out of your mouth.

“M-maybe—fuck, yes!” You cry out as his palm comes down hard on your ass, your pitiful words only fueling his ego. “S-so rough…”

“Aww, doll, I thought you liked it when I’m rough with you?” Another thrust of his hips, his cock pounding against that sweet spot deep inside you. “Let me ask you, how many men did you fuck while I was gone?”

“N-none…”

“Hm? Couldn’t hear ya, doll. Speak up.”

He smacks your ass again, eliciting another scream from your throat. “None! No one else, only…only you, Dabi…”

The tears are spilling freely down your cheeks, leaving little pools on the arm of the couch. Dabi groans again as he yanks your hair back, his lips searing against the skin of your jaw.

“Say it again. Say my name.”

“Dabi, Dabi—”

“Not that one, doll.”

Your heart thrums against your ribcage, eyes wide and teary, but you can still feel a smile on your face.

“Touya!”

He’s pounding into you at a brutal pace, one hand still wrapped around your hair as his other hand slides down the length of your body, between your thighs to circle over your burning clit. You’re gasping out his name, nails biting into the arm of the sofa, bucking your hips back to meet his thrusts halfway.

A stray tear slides down your cheek; he releases his hold on your hair just to wipe it away and kiss the heated skin below.

“Touya, I-I’m so close—so fucking close—”

It’s right there within your reach, burning on the tip of your tongue, your eyes fluttering shut with every thrust he gives you.

“Don’t hold back,” he hisses as you push back against him with a whimper. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing them in hard, tight circles. “Wanna hear you scream, got it?”

You can only nod your head, your words slurring together as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“C’mon, cream all over my cock—”

“F-fuck, Touya!”

Suddenly you’re tumbling over the edge, pressing your face into the arm of the couch, clenching your thighs around his hand. A tremble courses through your body, vision flooding with white, whining out his name as he continues to circle your clit, even when you’re spent and slumped in his arms.

“That’s it, doll, such a good girl for me.” But there’s a strain in his voice, a familiar fire in his thrusts as he chases his own release. “So good, so fucking good—”

Something warm and rough closes over the back of your hand; your eyes open to see his fingers lacing through your own, pinning your hand to the arm of the couch. It’s not long before he shifts himself to grasp your other hand, caging your body against the couch, his voice raspy and his breaths short against the shell of your ear.

“Gonna come—where do you want it, doll?”

You squeeze his fingers with your own, eyes fixed on the burned skin of his arm. “I-inside… Want you inside me, Touya…”

His chest shudders against your back, face pressed against your neck as he stills his thrusts, spilling himself inside of you. He stays there for a moment, panting against your skin, still holding your hands in his scarred ones, the heat of his body giving you an entirely new sense of bliss you thought you’d lost for good.

But then he slides himself out, his cum dribbling onto the cushions below, and you can’t help but giggle when his cock brushes against your inner thigh.

“Still hard?” He scoffs and starts to pull away—but your hands are already curling around his wrists, tugging him back down to your level. “Lay down,” you manage to slur out, “wanna be on top now.”

He barks out a laugh but settles down on the couch anyway, tracing the skin of your hips with his nails.

“Sure you’re up for this, dollface?” You nod, straddling his hips for the second time tonight. “You look worn out, don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fucked me in my sleep,” you murmur, and he only smirks at the memory. Needy asshole. “Besides, you had me the way you wanted. And now it’s my turn.”

“Oh? And in what way do you want me?” He squeezes his hands around your ass and pulls you in close. “My cock not good enough for you anymore?”

“No, it’s more than enough.” You press your hands to the planes of his chest, smiling as he sinks into the messy cushions below. “I just wanna see your eyes when I tell you how beautiful you are.”

That’s when you see it: the tiniest clench of his jaw, the glazed look in his eye that lets you know, he thinks it’s all bullshit. That he won’t believe you, no matter how many times you say it to his face.

“…I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I said I wanted all of you, didn’t I? I meant it, even your looks. Your hair, your eyes, these scars…” You lean down to kiss his neck, eliciting the softest groan from his chest. “They’re my favorite part about you.”

“Why?” The look in his eyes is so uncertain, so terrified—as if he’s still a child, begging for someone to accept him. “They’re just scars. They’re…ugly.”

“Not really. They show just how strong you are. How strong your flames are, how determined you are. No matter what’s standing in your way, you always find a way to persist. And that’s why I—”

Love you.

You clamp your mouth shut, fighting the urge to slap both hands over your face. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot! Now he’s staring at you with those big eyes and you’re fucking everything up and—

“That’s why I…I want every part of you.” Anti-climactic, but it eases some of the weight off your chest. “Every bit you have to offer. Scars, fears, sins—none that scares me. I want all of them, because I want you. All I care about is you, Touya.”

He’s growing increasingly uneasy, you can see it in the way his eyes dart back and forth between your own and the ceiling, the slight quiver of his hands against your waist. Words have never really been his strong suit in situations like this, so you can tell he’s having trouble coming up with a response. So before he can you lean down to kiss him again, your hands roaming all across his body.

Actions seem to speak louder than words, anyway.

A thin sheen of sweat gathers along the healthy skin of his chest, the silver staples glimmering at the corners. He’s gorgeous in this light, sprawled out beneath you on the couch, the faint hue of the fireplace flickering over his skin. Matching those beautiful eyes, so sad and lost, and the wisps of flame dancing along his fingertips.

You lower your hand down his abdomen, over his hips, and smile when he gasps when you take his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy in the palm of your hand, adorned with little silver piercings along the base and tip. You remember asking him about them when you first started your little relationship, how he smirked when you asked him if they hurt at all. At the time he’d shrugged his shoulders and pulled you into his chest, insisting that they didn’t hurt anymore, that they would feel much better inside you anyway. Even now you still can’t believe how desperate he can be just for a good fuck.

Those blue eyes are still wide, burning with that same hint of lust from earlier. As if he’s trusting you to make him feel good—to take care of him, just as he’s always done to you.

“Breathe, Touya.” It’s hard to keep the smile out of your voice as he squirms beneath you, tightens his grip around your waist. “I’ve got you.”

And I’m never letting you go ever again.

It takes a few strokes of your hand before he’s bucking himself into your palm, silently whining for you to get on with it. You spread your thighs and position yourself over his cock—but not before pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

I love you.

He groans out your name as you sink yourself down onto him. That familiar stretch of his cock makes your chest shudder, a moan slipping through your parted lips. Despite the mess of cum and sweat between your bodies, neither of you seems bothered all that much. What’s the point of getting upset over it when you’re just going to add to the mess later on?

“…Maybe you were right about this position, doll.” He lifts a hand and squeezes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from your throat. “Gonna enjoy seeing your face when I fuck you like this.”

“As if,” you try to laugh, but it’s hard to keep your voice steady. “I’m the one who’s fucking you this time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

But before he can move you take his hands in your own, raising them up and pinning them beside his head on the arm of the couch. Smirking at the mischievous look in those hooded eyes.

“Not a chance, Touya. You’re gonna be good for me—whatever I have to offer, you’re gonna lay there and take it.”

“Oh am I, doll? Since when did you get all demanding and feisty, huh? I guess me being gone for a bit made you needier than usual, huh?”

Probably, but there’s no way in hell you’ll admit it to his face. So instead you grind your hips down onto his, and he gasps and moans out your name.

“C-can’t say I don’t like it.” His breaths are growing shorter with every thrust of your hips. “You used to be s-so shy and timid, and you still are. Sure didn’t put up a fight when I fucked your brains out earlier, now did you?”

If he’s still talking, I’m not doing a good enough job.

“N-no, you didn’t—!” He still tries to laugh even when you pick up the pace, sinking your nails into the marred skin of his wrists. “Loved every second of it, didn’t you? I know you did—always a little slut for my cock—my little slut—”

Suddenly your nails are digging into the patches on his throat, his blue eyes blown wide with lust as you lean in close, so close your nose brushes against his own.

“Shut up. Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

Let me love you.

That seems to convince him; curiosity and lust seem to win him over as he complies with your orders, keeping his hands above his head, snapping his mouth shut for good. But then he’s moaning again as you roll your hips down, and his sounds only encourage you to go faster.

You press your palms against his chest, nails cutting into the healthy flesh beneath the staples, and start bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. His hands are free for now, but he doesn’t try to take control and subdue you. Instead he’s grabbing onto your hips, ramming himself deeper inside you with every thrust.

He’s hitting that same spot deep inside you, the one that makes you see stars and scream his name out to the world. The muscles in your thighs are burning; three orgasms in and you’re still chasing after a fourth like a bitch in heat. But it’s hard to resist the urge when you have him below you like this, staring up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, whispering “good girl” and “fuck, that’s it” into the musty air around you.

“C’mon, harder. I know you can do better than that—fuck—”

Dabi, Touya—it doesn’t matter what he wants to be called, you still end up screaming both names out at the top of your lungs. So loud you want everyone to know just who can make you feel this way, who holds your heart and soul and body in his scarred hands. Because he’s worth everything to you, someone you trust with your life even if you shouldn’t. Someone you don’t have to hide yourself from, to put on a front or a fake smile for. Someone who makes your heart flutter and your palms sweaty and your chest ache, because you—

“…Love you.”                              

It’s out there—you can’t take it back now. Not when you’re so close; not when he’s staring up at you like that.

As though you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

But your words don’t seem to deter him in the slightest. Instead he’s slamming you down on his cock even harder than before, swallowing your squeals as he pulls you in for another searing kiss. He’s sitting up now, arms wrapped around your waist as you bounce yourself in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” the tears are already bubbling in your eyes, “but I love you—love you so fucking much—”

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, as though he hasn’t used it in years. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I do! Y-you’re the only one for m-me—”

Your hands close around his shoulders, his breath burning against your neck—you can already feel the coil in your stomach, ready to snap. So close, so close—

“Almost there, doll. Ride me—give me everything you’ve got—”

You roll your hips as hard as you can, and at the first touch of his fingers against your clit you’re clenching hard around his cock. Screaming his name out as you feel every ridge and piercing move against you, inside of you as you’re gushing all over his lap.

But he’s not far behind, chasing his own release as he picks up the pace. You gather his face in your hands, running your thumbs along the lines of staples that keep his jaw secure, tasting his breath on your tongue.

And you know you should stop talking before you make everything worse, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing your mouth against his own and whispering, “Love you, Touya.”

Suddenly he’s gasping into your mouth, palms unnaturally hot against your hips—and when you give him a nod he presses his fingers deeper into your skin. A blistering sense of heat spreads throughout your body; a scream bubbles up in your throat. Touya groans out your name as he gives one final thrust, spilling himself inside you as his fingers sear their prints into the skin of your hips.

The two of you are shuddering, kissing each other furiously, blinking the sweat from your eyes. His body is already starting to overheat, a thin layer of steam rising from the stapled skin of his chest. But that doesn’t seem to be his main concern; instead he’s lowering his hands to inspect the fresh burns on your hips.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only a little,” you tell him, but he’s still kissing along the marks anyway.

It’s not the first time he’s branded you in the heat of the moment. It took him a while to agree to it, along with an incessant amount of begging on your part, and he’s still always so attentive to them whenever he does it during sex. It always baffles you how he can be so concerned and caring with taking care of the light burns he leaves on your skin, but he completely neglects his own.

“Touya, it’s fine, I’ll just clean them up in a bit. I promise I’ll be—”

But then he glances up at you, and your chest swells when you see the trails of blood leaking from the staples underneath his eyes. You try to wipe them off but he catches your wrists and tugs you close, pressing kiss after kiss against your sweaty palms.

“To—”

“Say it again.” His voice is almost pitiful, the look in his bloody eyes worse than any burn mark on your skin. “Please.”

In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never heard the man beg. Not as Touya and definitely not as Dabi. But the hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry. To hold him in your arms and shield him from the rest of the world. To fight off his insecurities tooth and nail, to chase away all those horrible thoughts and memories that keep him up at night. To press a thousand kisses along his face and down his body, ending at his lips before giving him a thousand more.

You take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. His white hair tickles your nose, still smelling of smoke and ash.

“You know I love you, Touya. When I said I wanted you, I meant it. I want everything that makes you, you; I want to see you grow and thrive and make the best out of this world we’re in. And no matter how many times you try to push me away—even if you think it’s for my own good—I won’t ever leave you alone. I promise to stay by your side, no matter what you’ve done or what you may do in the future. Because I love you, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe me.”

There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say that will make you change your mind. He is the one you’ve decided to trust with your heart. The one you’ve grown to care about more than anyone else in the world. And you’ll keep saying it, even if he never believes you. Even if he never sees you in that same light.

He doesn’t speak a word, doesn’t even make a sound. He simply holds your body against his own, pressing his stapled cheek to your breasts. You can feel his heartbeat below the ragged skin of his chest, the vibrations lulling you into a light sleep.

B-bmp, b-bmp, b-bmp.

Finally he breaks the silence with a grunt, lifting you off his lap and sliding himself out of you. Your thighs are burning with exhaustion, not unlike the heat engraved in your hips. But Dabi’s careful as he swings his legs over the side of the couch, gathering you in his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

Wordlessly he carries you to the nearby bathroom, where he sets you down on the counter and washes out your burns. He reaches for the little tube of ointment in the cabinet—the same brand you have back at your apartment—and squirts a small amount on his fingers. You do your best to stay still as he slathers it over the burns, trying to be as gentle as he possibly can. And once he’s done he cleans off his hands, grabs a roll of bandages from the counter, and presses them over the marks on your hips. Definitely not the first time you’ve worn bandages like these on your body—or the first time Dabi’s been the one to apply them.

It’s not like him to go this long without saying anything. Not a single snarky comment or flirty remark, just to get a reaction out of you. It’s almost terrifying, the way he refuses to make any sound—or even talk to you.

Did I say anything wrong? Was I too forward with my little speech earlier? Is he angry at me for admitting my feelings to him?

“…Touya?” No answer. You clear your throat and try again. “Touya, are you okay? …Are you—”

“How can I be, after what you said out there?”

Oh.

Did you read the entire situation wrong? Perhaps he’s ready to leave you for good this time, making sure you can’t follow him wherever he goes?

The mere thought hurts you more than it should. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot, thinking he’d feel the same about you.

“…I’m sorry—”

“No don’t, don’t fucking do that…” He lets out a sigh, swiping a hand through his hair as he all but tosses the roll of bandages on the counter. “It’s not…you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Then…why? Why are you still pushing me away when you know I love you?

And then it hits you: the problem lies within that phrase, those three simple words that crawled their way out of your mouth. Maybe he does feel the same, and he doesn’t know how to come out and say it. Or even if he should say it. Because as much as it pains you to think about, those three little words must’ve been pretty rare in his old life with his family.

Or maybe he doesn’t feel that way at all, and you’re still stuck in a perfect little fantasy, hoping it’ll all work out in the end.

You suck in a deep breath, until your chest aches from the stretch, and begin to speak.

“Touya, do you…feel the same way about me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. You clear your throat and rephrase the question.

“Do you care about me? Say no if you don’t.” He snaps his mouth shut, and the tiniest bit of pride blooms in your chest. “So then, do you…like me the same way I like you?” And suddenly you’re a child on the playground again, wondering if your crush thinks of you in the same way you think about him.

“…I…I think I do, but…”

Blood trails are streaming down his cheeks. With every word he looks more unsure of himself, more confused, as the man he’s built himself up to be begins to crumble down before your eyes. It’s hard to breathe as you watch him break down. The blood, the scars, the way his hands curl around his face—and suddenly you’re jumping off the counter, legs shaking, heart leaping in your throat, and taking him into your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to say it out loud. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”

You stretch out your fingers, the tips brushing against the staples beneath his eyes. He doesn’t flinch away, even as you wipe away the trickles of blood, and you sigh in relief. A small victory, one that gives you hope that maybe this can all work itself out.

“If you don’t wanna say anything, that’s okay. I get it, believe me. But please don’t push me away anymore. I want to be close to you, okay? To stay by your side even when you don’t want me to be. So please, just…let me stay with you…”

It’s an eternity before he moves again. He slides his hand into your hair and tugs you in, mismatched lips finding their way to your forehead. You lean up to kiss his split jaw, giggling softly when he brushes his nose against your own. And for a moment, it seems like everything’s going to be okay.

You’ll be alright. You can wait for him, as long as he needs you to.

It takes some convincing (and a few heated kisses) for him to let you clean out his wounds for real and reapply his staples. The bastard’s jaw is barely hanging on at this point, a look he wears like a badge of honor. He doesn’t even wince as you snap a batch of fresh staples into his cheeks.

“Why the long face, doll?” You roll your eyes and drop another bloody staple into the tray on the counter. “You know damn well this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

“And it’ll be the last if you keep running your mouth like that.”

“Not if I can help it—”

“Touya.” There’s a warning in your voice but he only laughs it off.

“Touya,” he mocks in a high pitched voice, “let me come! Touya, please don’t rip your staples out! Touya, please fuck me, I need you inside me!”

“Touya!” Louder this time, but he only laughs harder.

“Yeah that’s it, doll. Sure weren’t complaining earlier, when you had my tongue inside your—”

You slap his chest as hard as you can without damaging the staples. It seems to shut him up long enough for you to finish patching him up, but he’s still wearing that fucking smirk that makes you weak in the knees.

At least he’s eased up for now. As much as you adore him, it’s not easy seeing him act all unsure of himself. As though he has to hide who he really is from you.

When the blood’s finally cleared off and his scars are treated, he takes a fresh cloth from the cabinet and soaks it under the sink. He runs it along your thighs, wiping away any traces of his cum. After he’s finished you rinse the cloth with warm water and press it along his sweaty chest. Careful the fabric doesn’t get caught on the staples lined across his skin.

Once the two of you are cleaned off, he scoops you up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his hips, and he leads you back into the room with the fireplace. You’ll have to wait until you get back to your place for a proper shower; unfortunately this old mansion doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to running water. But judging by the way Touya’s carrying you, with his arms tight around your waist, you’re starting to think he’s not ready to leave this mansion just yet.

He cleans off the messy cushions—which consists of him wiping them down with a wad of tissues before flipping them over—and plops himself down right in the center. He pulls on his pants and slips on his boots, before tossing you that old hoodie of his that still smells like smoke. You pull it over your head, mindful of the bandages on your hips, and try not to think of how dangerously low his pants are resting on his hips.

He reclines back against the arm, kicking his legs up and pulling you down on his chest once more. You’re straddling his hips again, wearing nothing but his old hoodie, your face pressed against his scarred chest.

“…Wish I had a cigarette right now.”

You stifle a laugh, reach into the pocket of the hoodie, and hold out a little white package to him. His eyes go wide for a moment, before he tugs it from your grasp and gives you one of those all-knowing smirks.

“Aww, how did you know? And these are my favorite, doll.”

You shrug and snuggle deeper into his chest. “Thought you’d want one or two so I brought ‘em with me.”

He slips the little stick between his lips and wiggles his eyebrows. “So that’s why you came here—I was right after all, huh?”

“As if, fuckin’ pervert. It’s not my fault you only wanna smoke after sex.”

He lets out a chuckle, lifting a blue-tipped finger to the end of the stick. Your eyes follow the tiny flame, the gorgeous hue of its sparks, the gentle wisps that coil into the air, before it vanishes with a quick wave of his hand.

A comfortable silence stretches over the two of you. Your gaze wanders up to the window above, revealing the pale half-moon behind the dark clouds. You wonder what time it is… But then you realize it doesn’t matter and press your face against the ragged skin of his neck. It’s just you and him for now, nothing else matters right now. The whole world could burn to ashes and you wouldn’t care—because you have the man you love wrapped up in your arms.

“Tell me,” he finally rasps, stubbing out his cigarette with his thumb. A blue wisp of flame engulfs the little stick, and seconds later he’s dusting the ash off his hand and onto the floor below. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?”

Oh, I guess we’re back to this.

You lean up against his chest, chin propped up on your palm, to find him staring up at the dirty ceiling above. His fingers drum along the small of your back, the heel of his boot thumping against the arm at a gentle rhythm. He doesn’t meet your eyes, even when you start to speak.

“You know I meant it. Every single word. I promise. I’m not gonna leave you alone, no matter how much you push me away. And I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face, you got it?”

When he still doesn’t look at you, you reach up and brush the backs of your fingers over the line of staples in his cheek. He lets out a sigh before catching your hand in his own and bringing it up to his face. And it’s hard to ignore the ache in your chest when he kisses your fingers and knuckles, one by one, before stopping right at the center of your palm.

Suddenly those blue eyes are burning right through you, and the whole world seems to vanish around you.

“Stay with me.”

You nod at once. “I will.”

“Say you love me.”

“I love you—so fucking much—I love you, I love you…”

I love you.

He’s kissing you now, mismatched lips tracing over your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere they can possibly reach. You twist your fingers into his hair and hold him close to your chest.

Nothing else matters. It’s just the two of you in this little mansion in the middle of the forest, the only ones who matter in this world. No heroes, no villains, no secrets, no lies. Just you and Touya, and for now that’s all you need.

Even if he never says those three simple words back to you.

“Touya—” But then he’s kissing you again, and you’re giggling uncontrollably against his mouth.

I’ve got you. I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll patch up your wounds, and I’ll—

“Hey, stop! That tickles!” But he keeps on nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Touya, come on, you’re—”

That’s when you feel it, hard and insistent, pressing against your inner thigh. He only smirks and licks his lips.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Mm, I’ve been called worse, doll.” He slides a hand down to your hips, caressing the bandages, the burn marks seared into your skin. “Promise I’ll be gentle.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, as he trails his hand down just a bit lower.

It’s not perfect, the relationship you have (if it can even be called that). There’s tears, blood, burns, nightmares, and you know it’ll only get worse from here on out. What Touya’s decided to do with his life, and how he plans to leave his mark on the world—it still leaves your stomach rolling and your throat burning with tears. But beneath all the words and scars and flames, you know he’s hurting inside. And you’ll be damned if you let him suffer through this ordeal all alone.

You’re in love with him—everything that makes him the man he is. No matter how much he’s hurting, how often he thinks of himself as a failure. You’re determined to give him everything you have, in hopes one day he’ll do the same for you. To wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest and press a thousand kisses against his skin. To let him know he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

That you’re here for him; that you’ll stay with him, no matter what may happen in the future.

So that’s why you only laugh as he lays you back down across his chest, his fingers weaving through your hair, careful not to get any of it caught on the staples of his palms. There’ll be another time for conversations like those. For now you can lose yourselves in each other, hand in hand, with the warm glow of the blue flames casting over you.  

[prettyshon10]

TOWL EP. 5

SPOILERS

- 2 am on the dot. Let’s get it!

- Gabriel?!

- Like, I’m not mad or nothing, just…perplexed

- The selected song is giving honeymoon/romantic getaway

- Him taking in that Carl drawing 😫

- “Never did like those.” Girl, me neither. Shout out to all us girlies whose names were too unique for keychains.

- Rick tryna get his son one, though ❤️

- Stoooop! Not him customizing a necklace for her!

- Omg, the season 6 callback. Man done finally got her the toothpaste!

- “I was in love with my son’s best friend—“ yeeeah, maybe don’t phrase it like that…

- Protecting the people from the people is basically The Walking Dead in a nutshell…

- Bro, these walkers…🤢

- Wooooooow…I shouldn’t even be surprised. Just proved my point.

- They tried to warn you, my guy. Done messed around and found out

- Michonne said “now y’all get nothing”

- If people would stop pulling up Richonne while they’re in bed, I would really appreciate that

- Knew she wasn’t gonna buy into them “dying via helicopter crash”

- The writing is making a point pushing “Anne”; between that and these Gabriel flashbacks, I highly suspect she’ll die in this episode. Like they’re winding down on her character…

- We have now entered Fast & Furious: Richonne Version

- Michonne is out for BLOOD, baby! But Rick’s right, they gotta play it smart or it’ll just create a bigger problem.

- This is really tense

- I do like how much screen time they have Jadis; she was a really interesting character and giving her 5 mins and a swift death would’ve been cheap; this was a much better end for her than I predicted

- Woo chile, a proposal; just look at them

- Following something beautiful with something unfortunate; poor Gabriel

- Was it just me or did this episode go by pretty fast?

[pulpitude]

meet my mcs ✦ a small introduction

bigger introductions coming soon <3

spoiler alert: i'm immune to cis male, gender conforming, he/him using mcs 😭

spoiler alert: yes i prefer all the pretty female non li side characters to any actually available (either male or female) li. all day any day. live laugh love michelle nguyen, diana, ingrid, and briar daly. also dee dee but she's mc's family so i'll have to make a different character for her, sorry andre.

1. bachelorette party

full name: leanne gahan

age: 30

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: greysexual, panromantic, ambiamorous

love interests: diana (formerly), ash tanaka (currently)

occupation: lawyer, former model

more: yes, she's a gyaru, and even in professional lawyer mode she'll still at the very least wear light gal makeup. she's been one since the "glam queens" — her, court, di, and aisha — first formed, and she even modeled as one before she took on her current job as a lawyer. she started a fwb (but with actual friendship) type relationship with diana in college that ended once diana established herself as straight and fell for skip, and again on the trip to vegas after her poor friend started to reconsider not only her supposed love for skip but also her sexuality.

2. bloodbound

full name: raida pearce

age: 23 (physically)

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bisexual w/ male preference, polyamorous

love interests: jax matsuo, adrian raines

occupation: pa, former club dancer

more: she, jax and adrian are in a polyfidelity relationship, they're all in love with each other and no one else. she's an amateur dancer and has been since age 15. after the world discovered vampires, she's been dressing almost impossibly bright and poppy, partly to defy the stereotype that all vampires are goth and partly in memory of her best friend lily and the contrast she'd have with her. she's the oldest of seven — her mother really wanted a boy but only after the birth of her youngest she got told that, as the bloodkeeper, she's unable to bear biological sons. fortunately one of raida's many siblings came out as a trans boy, to their mother's glee.

3. crimes of passion

full name: ashley rose

age: 28

gender: non binary transmasc

pronouns: they/them

sexuality: nblm, exact sexuality unclear/unlabeled

love interest: m!trystan thorne

occupation: private investigator

more: before realizing one can be attracted to men and assume a masculine role in a relationship, ashley frequently asked themself "do i want to be the prince or be with him?" at one point, they were secretly in love with luke, but since he's straight and ruby also likes him, they kept it a secret from everyone. their mother, carolina varela, is argentine, and ever since they learned that they've felt a desire to connect more with the culture — especially with the food, you'll frequently find them eating a choripan, empanada or milanesa de pollo.

4. getaway girls

full name: mirah thompson

age: 27

gender: trans female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bisexual

love interest: m!jordan paudwal

occupation: chef

more: growing up with feminine interests in an almost female-only family with maia, anita and dee dee means mirah has always seen herself as "one of the girls" even before realizing she really is one. her parents try their best to support her but are still quite behind, and so they thought that as a woman, she has to marry a man. she's had to prove multiple times that she likes women and wants to marry (f!)kamali... a woman that ended up cheating on her due to wanting "a real woman" and inadvertently leading her back into the arms of her ex boyfriend from college, the only person she's ever loved that truly loves her for all of her.

5. murder at homecoming

full name: valentine mandy stone

age: 17

gender: trans male / boyflux

pronouns: they/he

sexuality: demisexual biromantic

love interest: tyler woods

occupation: amateur detective

more: despite no longer identifying as female, mandy still likes wearing dresses and full glam, partly to blend in with the crowd and partly in memory of perdita (yes, they frequently steal from her). at least that's what he always says. they're always lamenting that perdita never got to meet their true self, since she went missing before mandy realized they weren't cis, but part of him thinks she must know anyway. they're frequently described as "having the soul of a divorced wine mom" by classmates due to their personality and style, and he likes to disagree with them, but deep down he knows they're all right.

6. high school story (au?, more of an oc than a mc, i only remember i created her alongside an alternate mc from the one i usually play as)

full name: darlene murphy

age: 16

gender: afab demigirl

pronouns: they/she

sexuality: lesbian, questioning aspec

love interest: giselle zhou (au — trans!f!aiden zhou)

occupation: n/a

more: for a girl that looks and dresses like elle woods' daughter, darlene sure has a secret geeky side and is frequently found discussing one piece with myra and the rest of the gamer clique. they've also got a passion for fashion, having helped giselle find her style at the same time koh helped her medically transition and later working on costumes for the theatre club. she, giselle and koh (and cameron, as of spring quarter) might be quite the odd squad at first glance, but the four have grown to be inseparable, and darlene finds herself spending more time with her girlfriend and their "third wheels" than with her classmates.

7. distant shores

name: elias bellamy

age: 25

gender: gnc cis male

pronouns: she/he. it'd be just she/her, but she knows people from the golden age of piracy won't understand the concept of pronouns not equaling gender so she just lets them call her he/him. so far the only person she's tried to explain it to (the pronouns, not the gender non conformity - that's an open secret among the crew) is edward, who still doesn't quite fully understand it yet but tries the hardest he possibly can to support her.

sexuality: questioning if gay or bi

love interest: edward mortemer

occupation: pirate, sailor

more: fortunately for elias, being a relatively experienced actor means she's far less likely to accidentally reveal her time traveling secret. unfortunately for her, having time traveled to a far less progressive era means she's also forced to change the way she dresses and acts. early in her stay at the poseidon's revenge, charlie spotted her rifling in the former's closet to see if there were any dresses and came very close to disciplining her, until elias admitted she prefers men and had no perverted intentions at all... and that's the first time she ever confided in her sexuality and identity to a member of the crew that isn't edward.

8. desire and decorum

full name: pamela harper, née pamela foredale, née née pamela liu

age: 23

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: it's not something she dwells on or likes to. even before annabelle introduced her to the concept of not being straight, she's known she's what the modern world would label as pan. she feels her heart has no boundaries on things like birth sex or gender identity, she loves everyone and can be w anyone, but she's too in love with luke to think like that about anyone that isn't him.

love interests: briar daly (formerly), luke harper (currently)

occupation: countess of edgewater

more: before traveling to edgewater, pamela wanted to become either a singer like her mother or a baker like briar's mother. she used to have a relationship with briar that one can only describe as "practicing to become wives" in every aspect, with briar of all people being pamela's first time. unfortunately briar really saw it as just practicing, but fortunately they stayed best friends after their failed relationship. her mother gave her the name "劉瑷菡" (liu aihan) but deep down she's always preferred pamela (or pam), even before she knew her father gave her that name.

9. ride or die

full name: maya minobe (美濃部魔夜)

age: 18

gender: trans female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: lesbian

love interest: ingrid (yes, ingrid. it's technically colt since that's whose romance route i played, but i'd love for her to be a li and so maya dates her in my verse. in between prom and graduation they form a friendship that quickly turns into romantic feelings, but there's definitely been mutual pining and lesbian panic from both sides even before ingrid swallowed her pride and became actual friends with maya)

occupation: n/a

more: she started transitioning at age 15 and originally picked the nickname "kokoro" from a kanji in her deadname (健心), but eventually landed on maya, meaning "magical night". she used to dress in between dark academia and gloomy coquette, but almost as soon as she met the mercy park crew she changed her style to a mix of romanba gyaru and 2000s party girl, dying her hair blonde, learning to do her makeup and acting a lot more bubbly and fun. thanks to her new style, personality and pink ride, she's earned the epithet "racing barbie" by members of the racing scene and rival gangs tracking down the mpc.

[farizrz]

And now i introduced the other member of family aka the others playable characters. Some each member of Family had love interesting. Left to right.

Maia Thompson The Mess (Your Sister

Deirdre "Dee" LaShawn Jackson The Mogul (Cousin)

Juanita Carter aka "Anita" Descartes The Model (Cousin)

[lexicook74-blog]

What the fuck

[marieabubb08]

Playlist

Songs I associate with Haikyuu characters:

Taylor Swift Ver.

Kageyama Tobio - Gorgeous (Reputation Album)

OCEAN BLUE EYES-

ITS ALREADY INDICATED IN THERE HONEY

But for real the song screams tsundere and Kags is EXACTLY that

The chorus with the "You're so gorgeous" and "Cause look at your face" fits well too

LIKE DONT LIE TO ME, KAGEYAMA IS TOO PRETTY LIKE WHA-

Now does he listen to this song? Probably not

I don't see Kageyama liking music too much

He may like some songs but he doesn't religiously listen to them

Oikawa Tooru - All of The Girls You've Loved Before (Lover Album)

We all know Oikawa is a bit of a playboy

Therefore, no matter what you say I would always believe that he has A LONG LIST OF EX LOVERS Blank Space Style

Now why didn't I choose Blank Space?

Well I dont really see him as someone toxic

Well yeah, he is annoying in the show and all but I do believe that he is a gentleman especially to girls.

HE HAS A SISTER WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?!

(I always notice that men with sister/s especially if they are really close, are gentlemen)

And seeing how he's close with his nephew means he is close with his sister.

AND HE IS A HUGE MAMA'S BOY, IF YOU DO NOT AGREE WITH ME PLEASE RESPECTFULLY SHUT UP

Now would he listen to this?

YES, YES HE WOULD

Probably because he's heard someone he knows (ahem ahem Makki ahem ahem) listening to this and immediately liked it

Its not his favourite, but definitely its on his playlist

Sugawara Koushi - Cruel Summer (Lover Album)

okay okay okAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT-

It doesnt symbolise Suga that much

Well except for the bridge part, because it kind of screams him

But speAKING OF THE BRIDGE

I KID YOU NOT HE SCREAMS THAT SHIT ON THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS

Imagine you're his neighbour and at 2 in the morning he starts screaming "HE LOOKS UP GRINNING LIKE A DEVIL-"

Tell me he wont do it, because he would

But like I said earlier, I do believe the bridge fits him

"I'm drunk in the back of the car and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar. Said I'm fine but it wasnt true. I dont want to keep secrets just to keep you and I snuck in through the garden gates every night that summer just to seal my fate. I scream for whatever it's worth, "I love you" aint that the worst thing you've ever heard. He looks up grinning like a devil"

I had to type all that-

BUT THIS LINE JUST SCREAMMMMS SUGAWARA KOUSHI TO ME

Akaashi Keiji - Willow (Evermore Album)

OKAY I'M EXCITED FOR THIS

I was about to choose Enchanted but Willow feels more up his alley

I could just probably put up the whole Evermore and Folklore album for this man and it would fit

And btw those two are probably what he considers one of the best albums ever

Timeskip spoilers!

We all know he majored in literature and so he is probably into deep metaphors and similes and Willow has that.

He also seems like the type to like old and magical themes which is WILLOW wow who knew

But really, this would be on his playlist along with Cardigan, some old 80s music and Radwimps

NOW THE SONG JUST FITS HIM SOOOO MUCH

The instrumental of the song is so simple yet very dimensional

AND THE THAT'S MY MAN LINE, LIKE YESSS HE IS THAT MAN

Akaashi Keji is definitely that price we'd cheat to win, don't lie

Kuroo Tetsurou - Getaway Car (Reputation Album)

THIS SCREAAAAMSSS KUROO TETSUROU

From the music to the lyrics dAMN IT-

He is the best of times and the worst of crimes ISTG-

(But I'd defo not be the first to leave if I was with THE Kuroo Tetsurou)

BUT ANOTHER ONE WHERE HE SHOUTS THE LYRICS DEADASS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING NIGHT

Bet when he comes early for practice, you can hear him screeching "X MARKS THE SPOT WHERE WE FELL APART" inside the gym

Scared the crap out of Lev once tbh

It's definitely one of his most replayed songs in his playlist

He isnt much of a fan of Taylor, but he just vibes with the song

The type of vibe where he'll dance like a worm when the chorus hits

But Getaway Car just screams Kuroo to me idk why

Atsumu Miya - Back to December (Speak Now Album)

wait wait waIT WAIT-

I know you might be asking WHY THIS SONG?

To which my answer is....

I DONT KNOW

He just feels like a person who would listen to sad/heartbreak songs

He's sappy like that

Probably listens to this, Heartbreak Anniversary, Secret Love Song etc etc

When he listens to this, he would start pulling up with the sad face like he's in a FOOKING MUSIC VIDEO

DONT TELL ME HE DOESNT LISTEN TO THIS AS HE WALKS SLOW WITH A FROWN LIKE HE'S STARRING IN AN MV

But when he's at home he definitely sings this peacefully until the bridge part.

"Back to December all the time........I MISS YOUR TANNED SKIN! YOUR SWEET SMILE!! SO GOOD TO ME SO RIGHTT!"

Lmfao it always wakes Osamu up from his naps so hey its all good for him only

Miya Osamu - Lover (Lover Album)

It is basically cannon that the twins are absolute opposites of each other.

And so, I am sure their music preference are also different.

While Atsumu likes those heartbreaking, Whitney Houston-like lyrics with high energy backgrounds, Osamu likes those romantic, suave songs with acoustic guitars and small drums on the instrumentals.

So Lover was my number one pick.

This MAN IS A ROMANTIC IN MY HEADCANNON, DO NOT CHANGE MY MIND

Can you jussttttt imagine him cooking whilst swaying his hips oN THIS SONG AHBSHSVSHWVWHWV FANGIRLING HARD RN FAM

But yeah, I feel like the whole Lover album is up his alley.

But unlike Atsumu, his singing is pretty chill, no unnecessary screeching and screaming.

Tsukishima Kei - Mastermind (Midnights Album)

So we all agree that this song is Tsukishima's, right?

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ICONIC MOMENT FROM SEASON 3? GODDAMN HE PLANNED THAT SHIT FROM THE BEGINNING I CANNAT-

Back to the regular programming-

What I am saying is that he felt like a mastermind in that episode😉

JUST FROM THE LINES: "What if I told you none of it was accidental?" or "I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork the dominoes cascaded in a line."

Sums up his whole character probably

HE LISTENS TO THIS AGREE TO DISAGREE

I feel like the whole aesthetic of Midnights fit him

HE IS LITERALLY THE ANTI-HERO OF HAIKYUU DO NOT TALK TO ME-

Mastermind is not his favourite but he doesn't hate or dislike it, its in the middle category for him.

Him listening to Vigilante Shit on those white Apple headphones

Tendo Satori - Shake It Off (1989 Album)

TENDO IS A SWIFTIE, HE IS OKAY!

Shake it off is a fun ass song and there is no way he doesnt love this bop

HE DANCES TO THIS RELGIOUSLY OKAY

The lyrics also moves his heart

We all know that his childhood was pretty rough due to bullies (And maybe even when he was in high school he still had them)

So with the lyrics' positivity, it makes his heart lighter.

HE HUMS THIS WHILE HE WRAPS HIS FINGERS WITH TAPE BEFORE PRACTICING HIS BLOCKS

Let me bet you that Ushijima asked him once what the song was because he sings it EVERYDAY, and Ushijima already memorised the harmony AHAHAHAH

He becomes EXCITED and started babbling about Taylor and how he should consider being a Swiftie while Ushijima listens

He may or may not have converted Ushijima into one

HAIL LORD TENDO, THE BEST ADVERTISER TO TAYLOR AFTER USHIJIMA TO SHIRATORIZAWA

Just noticed almost all of these were the setters- Definitely not intentional😶

Part two?

Not Edited

[cadybear420]

My thoughts on the 2023 Choices releases so far

I don't usually do this but fuck it. If I feel like it I'll do one for 2022 since I was active that year. Not for 2021 though, since I was still very new to the app starting in that year. I am currently working on a masterlist for all Choices books though.

Some of these books, I have not fully read or caught up with yet, but I'm still providing my opinion on what I anticipate for them.

Guinevere

Haven't started yet, but I heard it's really good. It doesn't seem like something I'll consider one of the bests, but who knows, it might surprise me.

Surrender 2

This one really cemented the Surrender series as the worst Choices stories ever of all time to me. All it does is hammer down how much worse Reagan is than Pat. They infantilize MC and are incredibly controlling to the point where they enforce BDSM outside of the bedroom and then straight up say "when a woman agrees to be my sub, she agrees to obey".

MC does leave them over this, thank God, but unfortunately her self-respect is very short lived. She seems completely unfazed when Reagan literally tracks her down on her getaway trip, and even proposes to them barely even a day after they talk things out (and keep in mind, that talk only happened because Reagan tracked down MC).

God this series was such a waste of potential.

Kiss of Death

I'm only in the middle of Ch1, but I've heard a lot of mixed opinions about this one. On one hand, there are options for MC to be more badass and proactive. But on the other hand, a lot of characters infantilize MC and she does get forced into a damsel in distress position often.

With other trashy smut books, I at least kind of know what to expect. But with this one, it's a very mixed bag.

Getaway Girls

I've only played Chapter 1, but so far it seems pretty fun and chill and I'm looking forward to playing it.

Roommates With Benefits

The first chapter wanted my MC to lap-dance on the LI. I think by that point, we already knew the cliched gender-normative smut romance we were in for.

But with that in mind, there wasn't anything that severely pissed me off about this book like there was about books like Surrender 2 and FCL. Well, besides the LI constantly calling MC "baby bird", but even that is relatively minor compared to the problems of books like Surrender 2 and FCL.

Overall, it's a pretty mid-level story.

First Comes Love

Awful awful awful. MC is a FemCeL. The story wants us to root against Rebecca despite that she did literally nothing wrong. Even when we choose to be nicer to Rebecca, it's all meaningless and they clearly want it to be fake kindness. MC basically gets rewarded for her behavior in the end as she ends up with the Blake.

I know MCs don't need to be goody-two-shoes all the time but if they're gonna be shitty or morally grey, at least give it more nuance. Have some self-awareness of some sort.

Overall, easily my number 2 worst Choices story ever.

The Duchess Affair

I haven't even started it yet and thus I'm mainly going off secondhand spoilers. But this is the one affair story where I'm actually more sympathetic to the affair. It's like, the 1800s. MC was married off into a loveless marriage with an abusive prick, which was common for women at the time. Those women, especially if they were sapphic, did not have a lot of options in those days.

It's also kind of nice that, as easily as this one could have been male-coded (and they do kind of end up doing that in the last few chapters), it actually makes even more sense with a female LI. Not only with the forbidden romance being spicier because 1800s sapphism, but a male tutor for a married woman would not be nearly as believable as a female tutor. I mean, I find most GOC-LI books to be better when played as anything other than wlm, but here the male LI situation goes from bland to straight up not even believable, so yeah.

But it's really hard to take it seriously when Nat is an entitled prick and they have bullshit such as MC watching deers mating or getting off from horseback riding. Just like MTFL, its sexual tone seems very out-of-place for the kind of story they want to tell. I swear to God they had to have hired some Brickleberry writers for that mating scene.

Crimes of Passion 2

Haven't started yet but I feel like it might be alright. The first one was mostly slightly above-lukewarm to me outside of MC, Trystan, and their dynamic. But from what I heard, this one is pretty solid too.

Kindred

Haven't started it yet, I feel like it'll be one that I'll end up being pretty fond of.

Blades 2

Haven't started yet but I'm a little worried about it. I really want my shamelessly-RoleReversal Imtura x m!MC moments, but from what I heard... it feels very disconnected from the first book, to say the least.

And I'm surprised that they're giving it a third book, what with their nowadays attitudes towards the series that actually have effort put into them.

The Billionaire's Baby

It's literally just TNA but with a surrogate MC instead of a nanny MC. The only thing that surprised me is that Joss wasn't the one Daphne was cheating on the LI with.

As if it wasn't already obvious from the Jenny/Aditya subplot in TNA 3, this book makes it SUPER obvious that PB would have had an accidental pregnancy plot in TNA Book 1 if Sam wasn't GOC. And I can easily say that if this book's LI wasn't GOC, they'd probably have had MC have an accidental pregnancy rather than the surrogacy plot.

This one gets a lot of hate, but I personally think it's not worth my anger because it's just... derivative in every way possible. It's perhaps the most soulless of PB's stories yet. Cheating, pregnancy, AND romancing a billionaire? Really? Pretty sure every other app that panders to Facebook Karen Moms has already done that story dozens of times.

Dirty Little Secrets

I'm a bit behind on this one now, but so far I do think it's one of the better releases of the year. It's a fun balance between spicy murder mystery and campy smut, and I like that it kind of knows what it is a bit more rather than books like TNA and TBB that force you to take them seriously.

It's definitely still one of those books where the mlw, wlw, and mlm routes are far more engaging and spicy than the probably-originally-intended wlm route where it's very been-there-done-that, but hey, I'm certainly enjoying the hell out of the mlw route.

Also, some of the male MC outfits are a little bit of a step up from the usual premium m!MC outfit we get where it's just something completely basic. Some of them definitely still feel very safe compared to their f!counterparts, but there's progress.

Alpha

Haven't started yet, but I'm looking forward to it. About time we got a werewolf book that's GOC. I'm sad we don't get to be the Alpha but at least I can make the route mlw.

Ship of Dreams

Haven't started yet, I don't have a lot of expectations for it.

The Cursed Heart 2

I want to bone Jack. I want him to sit on my face. I want him to flatten my pelvis as he rides my strap. Omnomnomnom sexy guy in crop top aahbhahghgahrbharhagrhahbrhgrbarkbarkabgrakagarkabrakarkrbark

[ridingtorohan]

Content: Spoilers for V's route. V has unrequited feelings for reader (he plays a semi-large part here). AU: The Day 9 branch goes differently. Cross-links: ao3 A/n: Written 2017. Unedited. The events are vaguely described.

It's hard to believe what they tell you about Rika. Especially when you want to love her. Escaping from Mint Eye is the only thing you can do but every part of you wishes to go back to her. ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎HAS NO ONE EVER LOVED ME? ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ (I DID, I DID, MY DEAR) ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

Rika is the epitome of kindness, her words liquid gold and spill from her mouth like a fountain. The words she speaks are parts of a song - one of your favourites, perhaps, stuck on repeat. It is easy to see the good in her, to see how brightly she views the world, how gently she cups flowers and holds your hand. Your name is a sigh from her lips, something soft and kind. Like .. marshmallows or kittens. Rainbows and clouds and butterflies. It is hard to see the disaster that V promises her to be, to see her anger and her hatred.

But you can, and that is the saddest thing. She isn’t prone to anger, but her fingers can clutch too hard and snap a flower’s head clean off, and she is careless and brushes aside cups until they shatter across the ground, warm milk foaming across it. Her eyes are shimmery green, a fire uncontainable. She does not hit you or yell at you. She does not blame you nor imply anything is your fault. She is upset that she cannot help everyone.

You only want to help her.

And when she screams, it is with the anguish of a dying man. Hysteria foams at the edge of her voice, hands feral as she clutches at herself. Shoulders shaking and tears pooling from her eyes - giant whopping crocodile tears, but genuine in that she can’t stop and feels all the pain. Her cries echo along the basement and you feel the emotion deep in your chest.

”Did no one ever love me?”

The thing is, the more you think about it and about what you know - her birth parents gave her up, unwilling to keep her or unable to, and her adopted parents hate her for reasons unknown to you and the very love that she thought that she has finally been given... In that awful moment, you hate V for doing that to Rika. You hate him with as much as you can muster.

But then you look over and see him, sweat making his hair damp and curly, gaze shaky and unfocused, pupils dilated horribly. He’s sweating and he’s snorting and wheezing and he’s gross but Rika also allowed for him to become that. She ordered it. Perhaps you could forgive her for it, but you could not forget.

Then the other man steps in, tall and languid with tall strides and is quick to help you carry V out. His trademark glasses and high voice is enough to recognize him as Seven, the man you had spoken to before. What is not easy, however, is to not stare behind you at the weeping girl as you make your getaway. Because in that moment - that is all she is, a girl tormented and unloved by the world that she fought so bravely to save, even when her demons finally consume her.

The days after are slow and tense. V is delirious from the drugs and he touches and pats your hair with an equally unsteady gaze. He does not ask you to stay but you do anyways. You brush back his hair and fold a damp cloth against his forehead and wish him well. You pray as well, if you believe that it will help. Vanderwood is torn between looking at the pictures and helping V filter the drugs out, but his eyes are also on you.

To see V like this hurts your heart - he looks like a child, young and fragile in this bed, mouth gaping and cheeks flushed. There is no healthy glow to him, only a sickly pallor that makes your hands tremble. He sometimes grabs them and utters a name that isn’t yours and will never be yours. It does not hurt but you pity him all the same.

Rika is quiet in the chat rooms - not that she types few and far in between, but she isn’t as vibrant as she is in life. You miss her - the one that you knew. This Rika is broken, little fragments caught between who she is and who she wants to be. The RFA is catching themselves on her broken edges and her words feel like wounds. It is easy for Seven to be wary of her, to Jumin to not acknowledge her.

Yoosung and V seem to be the only ones who recognize her for who she is beneath the shattering glass. But even their views are skewed - they do not love her as you do. You, too, wish to help her - to deny some truths about her. It is easy to love her, to look into the sun and be blinded by its brightness and its warmth. Love should never be easy, but with her it is.

You don’t confront her in the chats when she shows up, don’t belittle Mint Eye or what she is trying to do. You don’t actively defend her, either, though. You offer her comfort, pleas for her to listen to you. ”I want to help you, Rika.” To help Rika is to help Ray and the Mint Eye as a whole and while that is all well and good for a Samaritan to do, it is only her that you are truly concerned for.

When Rika texts you, she tells you how much she wants to brush your hair and your response is a shy “Next time” and it is promise. When she calls you, her voice is sunlight against your ear and you excuse yourself outside, voice quiet and fond as you breathe the evening air. ”I can wait for you to change your mind,” she promises you. On the night she compares you to the moon, you stare up and whisper, ”It is you.”

Where Rika is the sun, you are the moon, and together the eclipse is blinding.

Rika curses V, loud and violent but you soften her edges, take the broken glass remains and smooth them down. They do not fit together as neatly as if you left her broken but she cannot cut herself this way. She is whole this way. Her voice gets softer on the phone, a thrum in your blood and a promise to Ray and to her at the forefront of your mind. She gets softer in the chats, still promising them ever lasting peace and freedom but she never tries to convince you. You already know that she has you.

”I hope you change your mind tomorrow,” she tells you at one point and you whisper, too soft for her to hear,

“I had never wanted to go.”

Vanderwood is quick to notice you, to notice your flighty heart and fumbling phone. “I thought you liked him,” and while V is a good man with a good heart he is not the one for you. You love Rika and you tell him so. Stockholm Syndrome isn’t quickly ruled out but it eventually is - and they keep quiet about the shortcomings of your heart, of who you will choose if someone prompts you.

The sad thing is, you recognized the brokenness in Ray on that first day and it had led you to the place of new beginnings - twisted and mangled and horrid to look at. You cannot help but feel weak and powerless to help but there, inside the Mint Eye, you felt like you could make a difference. Rika let you feel as though you were someone, and you are - to her. You are afraid that you will tire of broken toys and irreparability, but each day that Rika calls you, you are firmly aware of the heat in your blood. A sunflower can never turn away from the sun. Rika has that childish fear of remaining unloved but you whisper the words so fondly you hope that she understands.

V gets better, his vision clear - clearer - and a fondness for you present in the way his mouth softens into a smile. You help him drink water, tuck the straw next to the corner of his mouth and pat his hair back. You do not scold him for his idealistic love for Rika and he makes no mention of how placid you are in the chat rooms about her. He does not confront you, but his eyes are kind and sad. You do not understand the sun in relevance to him - he soothes, never burns, and belongs to the sea. Gentle on the eyes, you are sure in the fact that he is the Earth - but the sun and moon will always be closer together, no matter how much things orbit.

V understands your love for Rika but does not admit that he wishes it was him. You can see it in his eyes and when you kiss him on the forehead then the lips it is nothing but goodbyes left unspoken. In another lifetime, you could love him... just not this one. He is beautiful but you can only ever see the moon because of the sun’s warm glow - you will need Rika more than you will ever need him.

When you both go for a walk, feet light and gentle breezes on your faces, you take it all in. He thanks you, a somber sound in the wind, a hoarseness to his voice. You do not cup his face and breathe into him apologies, but your hugs are fierce and your fingers thread together at his back. He is warm and so are you and together it feels wonderful.

The talk is quiet and peaceful and he is slow to remind you to head back to the cabin. You catch a glimpse of sunlight from the corner of your eyes and sigh. You refuse to go.

Rika steps out, hair like spun gold and eyes ribbons of green. In another lifetime, she will wield her tongue like a viper and her words like fangs. In that lifetime, it will be easy to be swallowed whole by the python of her insanity. In another, you might have left and her hands will stain red, knife loose in her grips. In another, she will not come at all and V’s love will be blinding and all consuming. In this one, her eyes are wet and she has to blink back unshed tears. In this one, her gaze flits from V to you and stays there. In this one, you tell her the words she desperately wants to hear.

But for now, you swoop forward and press your palms to her cheeks. The small of her hands fold along your back and her own arches, face draping into your shoulder and hair a golden waterfall. Her height does an impressive disservice but it is all her. You never have to ask her who she came for that night. Her words will echo the response to her question.

“You’ve made your choice?”

“It has always been you.”

You pull back long enough to press your lips against her forehead, then each eye, nose and finally her mouth. Her eyes will flutter closed and her breath will fan out across your face, a shudder that you can feel in her bones. “In the world where nobody loved you,” you echo her words from before and her breath hitches. “I always will.” And when you press your lips to her hair you add with as much love and affection as you can muster, something beautiful and bold beating in your lungs, you confess, “I will always go with you. It was never a choice for me.”

The road to redemption will never be easy, not for her or for you when you follow her down that path, but like the dawn - the sun will rise again.

[salami2]

Ch. 2 - Vecna’s Curse

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary - When news of Chrissy Cunningham’s death, you and the gang find Eddie alone in an abounded drug dealers house. Now, you have to stay together and protect him, but somehow, the two of you learn things about each-other and grow closer…

w/c - 1.7k a:n - this chapter so far has my favourite scene i’ve ever written :) also, less Munson x reader but dw! we’ll get there

Warning(s) - spoilers for ep.2, guns, death, murder, bleeding, Eddie almsot killing Steve, blood.

Chapter List - Ch.1 , Ch.3 , Ch.4 , Ch.5 , Ch.6

You couldn’t believe it. Your eyes were deceiving you, you thought. There’s no way this could happen…

The grainy television inside your class were only distant voices compared to the headline.

‘Girl found Murdered at Hawkins trailer park’

You excused yourself from the class, making a quick getaway from the front doors of the school as fast as your skates could take you.

The wheels felt like they could be on fire from how fast you were going. Speeding like a racecar who’s about to lose the race. Your mind was set on going to one place: Family Rental. To see if Steve was okay.

Hawkins, Indiana is the smallest town you’ve ever known. Well, technically it’s the only town you’ve ever known. Been living here your whole life. But you know damn well no murderers live in Hawkins.

Any human ones, at least.

You swung open the doors of ‘Family Video’. Steve and Robin whipped his head around in confusion then worried.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s dangerous, if you need to be picked up I-“

“Thank you, Steve- do you know whose trailer that was?“ “No, why?” He asked. You skated over to the computer, trying to start it and get it working.

“This isn't normal. Over the past 3 years, when have spontaneous murders ever happened at Hawkins? If it’s what I think it is, we need to find where the murder took place and start investigating.”

Everything was silent. Until the doors swung open, once again. There stood Max and Dustin. Their eyes laid on you, and a once confused Steve became confused once again.

“Nine! You got the same idea, too?”

You nodded, not entirely sure where to start. Dustin slid over the counter, furiating Steve and Robin. They both curse at Dustin as he heads to the computers.

“We need to find Eddie,” Dustin says, “He could be in serious trouble!”

“Wait, why are we trying to find Eddie?” You asked, curious as to why they brought up that boy's name.

“That trailer was his. Chrissy died in his trailer and now he’s a convicted murderer. We need to find him to see if he’s alright.”

Your heart started pounding a mile a minute. It felt like time was slowing down. Not only was someone you had just been with last night falsely accused, he’ll be hunted like a witch.

A cold sweat broke out on your forehead. Finding yourself praying he’s safe and sound.

“I need… I need a TV and some chords!”

The door of the abandoned house creaked open. Everyone's eyes looked around the messy surroundings, as Steve would put it.

“So… this is where Eddies been?”

Steve asked, carefully treading inside. Robin and Max pointed out empty cans and trash bags.

He grabbed an oar and started poking and prodding around. Sighing at your brothers idiotic antics once again. “Steve, what the hell are you doing? You could hurt Eddie if you're not careful.”

He scoffed. “Y/N, don’t worry. I’m sure your little friend would be fine.”

You drag the tv inside. Fixing it up with a special headset.

“Hey, don’t worry, guys. Steve will save us with his big, long oar! He’ll save us from any danger here!” Dustin jokes.

“Please Henderson, half of us here have had our lives in danger more than once. This kid can’t do anything to us that we haven’t been against-“

A tarp Steve was jabbing up flew up, revealing a hiding Eddie. He grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against the wall with a shattered bottle against his throat. Everyone went into high alert mode as you dug around in your backpack to grab something.

“EDDIE! STOP, PLEASE, CALM DOWN, WE’RE NOT HERE TO HURT YOU!”

Dustin exclaimed, trying to stop Eddie from cutting Steve’s throat. “We’re here to help you, right guys- NINE Y/N WHAT THE HELL!?”

You had your eyes on Eddie, who was currently looking scared out of his mind.

A loaded shotgun was in your hands, pointing directly at the boy's head. Everyone was completely stunned at what was happening. Eddie's mouth agape.

“Let go of my GODDAMN BROTHER!” You shouted, unwilling to move from your position. Eyes steady on that Munson boy.

“If you let go, I won’t shoot and put the gun away. But if you don’t… don’t expect me to hold back.”

Dustin spoke up. “Eddie, we’re on your side. This is Robin, from band! This is Max, the one who never wants to play D&D, that’s Steve- And the one about to kill you you already know, Y/N. Just… please. Let go and we can talk.”

He hesitated. Eddie let go of his grip on Steve and sat down. You tucked the gun in your backpack, still keeping an eye on Eddie.

Steve came up to you and gave you a pat on the back. As if to say ‘thanks’.

“Eddie… We’re just here to help. Tell us what happened that night. I promise, we’ll believe you…”

He scoffed, lips trembling. His body was crouched, like he became a ball. He wasn’t ready to fight. You felt sorry for him, looking like a shivering puppy.

“You wouldn’t believe me…” he mumbled, hiding his face.

“Try us.” Your voice called out.

Both your [E/C] eyes and his round, brown doe eyes didn’t stray away. As if communicating telepathically, you awkwardly looked away. As if to say a quiet ‘sorry’.

He spilled his guts out to you. The situation with Chrissy, drug deals, her body contorting as she died right in front of him. Your heart broke for Eddie. You knew that facing the demogorgon was traumatic for everyone who first experiences it, but for him, he was completely innocent in it. I mean, everyone is. But you thought how nobody else should have gotten involved.

“… You all think this is bullshit, huh?” He asked, looking away.

“No, we believe you.” Robin said. “Don’t bullshit me man!” he exclaimed back.

“We’re not.” You protested, inching closer towards him. He jerked back, a little afraid of what you’d do to him. In good faith, you put your hands up, coming in peace.

“Look,” Dustin said, “Y/N- no, Nine is going to need to do something to you so we can see what happened that night.”

“It’s not going to hurt,” you quickly reassured, “But I just… need you to keep quiet about what I’m about to do. If word got out, my life could be on the line. I’m not joking about it.”

His cute, confused expression was evident. You slid on a monitored net on his head, secured tightly and synced to the busted television. You took a seat, taking a deep breath.

It’s been so long since you’ve done this. Shaking, you decided to take his hands. Holding them out for him.

When he slid his cold, ringed hand you felt it again. The perfect fit, like last night.

Focusing, you start using your powers.

Static showed on the screen what he had seen that night. His eyes were wide, like a frightened deer. Though you couldn’t see. Since yours was firmly shut, trying to show everyone what you can see.

Eddie felt like his trauma was replaying once again. It couldn’t be… how is this happening?

How was Y/N doing this?

You got to the moment where Chrissy hit the floor when you gave out, exasperated. You let go of his hands and slumped in your chair.

A stream of blood trailing down from your left nostril.

Robin gave you a tissue as Dustin took noted on what happened.

“Holy shit-“ Eddie gasped. “What just happened? How did you do that? Is she like… a wizard??”

So much confusion circulated his brain. But one thing was for sure:

That was the coolest shit he’s ever seen!

“Yeah, she’s great.” Dustin chuckled, as you gave him the best sloppy high five you could muster.

“I can’t believe I actually stayed…”

You mumbled under your breath, leaning against the cold exterior of an unused boat. An arm over your shut eyes.

Currently, you were sitting in the house that Eddie was staying in while a certain red car swiftly got away. That car was Steves. And all of your friends had asked you to stay with Eddie while they try to solve the mystery. Asking for your help when everything was figured out.

Eddie gazed at you, starstruck, from across the room.

He walks up to you and sits next to you, in a childish manner.

“So, uh,” he speaks, prompting you to look at him, “I have, like, a shit ton of questions.” he states.

You giggle. “And what are they?” You ask.

“Ok, first off: YOU HAVE SUPER POWERS!?”

You burst out laughing. It had been a while since you got a reaction like that. A genuine smile forming on both of your faces.

“Well, yeah. Reading people's minds is just one. But, if I try hard enough…”

You look dead- locked on a toppled can of empty soda. Hand reaching out as if to have grabbed it. After a moment or trying, the can started to rattle in its place, slowly but surely lifting off the ground. Causing Eddie to stand up shocked. Spewing out a long line of curses in amazement.

“Holy SHIT- That’s fucking metal!” He shouts, jumping up and down a bit.

You laughed, cleaning up the bit of blood. “Ok, ok, next question: why does Henderson call you Nine?”

Pausing, you showed your wrist to him. A faded tattoo reading ‘009’ shown. He made an ‘o’ with his mouth. “A little weird to get a numbered tattoo. Like you're some sort of war prisoner.”

You decided now was not the time to tell him. You weren’t exactly sure how he would take you being a Hawkins Lab escapee that had to undergo traumatic tests every day from your birth.

“Last, and final one: Why the hell do you carry a shotgun around??”

“Self defense. If I’m ever in a situation where I can’t use my hands or powers. It’s just something I’ve always had, ever since 83’”

He nodded, licking his lips.

“Are you satisfied?” You smiled. He gave you one of his dorky ones.

“Somewhat. But, we should do this more often.” He said. You raised an eyebrow. “Do what?” You wondered.

“Talk. You have a nice voice.”

Sputtering on your words, you didn’t know what to say. Placing a hand on your cheek. Yep, you were blushing alright.

“Ever the charmer, Munson. Ever the charmer…”

@salami2 , pls like & reblog