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redtsundere-writes · 20 days

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 9. Don't Know

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Synopsis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Fighting. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2722 words. A/N: Shoutout to @ghosts-girl_ on IG for sending me a Sukuna fanart that was inspired by this fic! Tysm <3!

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Going back to the hospital always scared me. I always enter the doctor’s office with sweaty hands while imagining the worst in my mind. The white and neat walls, decorated with informative posters about the importance of exercising regularly. The light gray floor was freshly waxed, I could see my scared face reflected in it. There were a few fake plants around to make the place look less intimidating.

The doctor was asking me questions about my lifestyle over the past six months while typing incessantly on the computer perched in the middle of the large desk. The doctor took out the new x"ray that had been taken of my neck and inspected it in front of the light screen. He didn't say anything, he just analyzed her very carefully to not make a wrong diagnosis. My manager, Mei Mei, came with me this time for support despite having a tight schedule. She noticed I was nervous, so she patted me on the back to calm me down.

“Do you think she can fight soon, Doc?" Mei Mei asked him my biggest concern.

“Her neck has completely healed, if she wanted, she could fight tonight,” the doctor answered with a smile.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips at the wonderful news I had awaited for so long. 3 years to be precise. I was out of the octagon for 3 years on medical recommendation so that my neck would heal completely and avoid future injuries. My face was about to cry with joy, so I hid it in my hands. I was about to reborn, I already wanted to return to the gym with my team to train like in the old days. Start again, conquer the battlefield and recover the title that was taken from me.

Mei Mei and I left the office to meet my friend and training partner, Nobara, who was waiting for us along with Mei Mei's younger brother, Ui Ui. I told her the good news, and she hugged me happily. We used to do everything together before I was injured, now we could go back to our routine as if nothing had happened.

“Everyone will be very happy when they see you back at the gym,” Nobara said excitedly.

“Finally,” I sighed heavily jokingly. “Mei Mei, shall I ask you to gather the team?” I asked her nicely.

Mei Mei was in charge of ensuring that my schedule was met without delays. She was the one who organizes my fights, gathers athletes for special training, hires doctors, etc. She was always busy, but she never let me out of her sight. Not only that, but she always took care of my my needs even though Team Black gives me everything I need. I told her not to worry so much in several occasions, but she always responded with “you never know.”

"I'm already on it, darling. Also, since your appearances with Ryomen, there are several sponsors interested in you,” Mei Mei reminded me of the unexpected kiss Sukuna gave me after his crushing victory against Naoya a couple of weeks ago. "Your life will return to normal in no time."

"When do you plan to come back?” Nobara asked me excitedly.

"I don't know yet, I have to talk to Sukuna's manager to agree on a release date and find a replacement,” I replied.

"When you have the date, let me know,” Mei Mei asked me without taking her eyes off her phone.

"When you return, could you bring me something signed by the King of the Ring?". Ui Ui asked excitedly.

"I'll see what I can do,” I answered honestly.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui left after that. Once we lost sight of them, Nobara took my hands to approach my face curiously. I moved away from her face at the unexpected proximity. When I saw her eyes sparkling from excitement, I could imagine what she wanted.

"So… You and Sukuna, huh?" she asked excitedly.

Since living with him, I have noticed that our relationship had improved, but only as a coach-athlete relationship. I haven't noticed that he treats me sweeter, that he gives me flirtatious glances or that he gets nervous when I am around. He continues to act as the same fearsome Sukuna as always.

My feelings towards him have also increased. When I have to watch him to make sure he does the exercises, my mind travels back to the passionate nights we've had together. I can no longer see his hands without thinking about how he holds me by the waist or his face without imagining him moaning my name. He made me blush without even trying, I was fed up. It was so frustrating not being able to do my job well.

"There’s nothing between me and Sukuna,” I answered, removing my hands from the grip.

"Don’t lie to me! Everyone saw that passionate kiss he gave you!" Nobara scolded while pretending to make out with herself.

"Sukuna only did it to annoy Naoya," I answered, trying to downplay it…

…but I couldn't ignore it. After that night, my perspective on Sukuna had completely changed. I wasn't surprised that I fell in love with him, I mean, I have a reputation for choosing the worst possible men. I had to get rid of this feeling as soon as I could. If I could do it while I lived with him, great, but I knew perfectly well that after asking for my resignation, Sukuna would throw me out and this feeling would go away on its own like a cold.

"And how are you so sure that he doesn't like you?" Nobara asked me.

The idea that Sukuna was interested in me in that way was tempting. It wasn't crazy considering we've already slept together twice, and he kissed me on international television, but I highly doubted that was the case. Yuuji had told me that Sukuna wasn't interested in having a girlfriend and I doubt that will change anytime soon.

“Impossible,” I answered without further ado.

"Oh, come on! Men never kiss woman just because,” Nobara argued.

"What do you know know about men? You're a lesbian,” I joked.

"I know how they behave when they like a girl, it's what we have in common," she challenged me.

My heart wanted to believe her, but my mind warned me with red flags that I shouldn't. Being in love is complicated.

At first, I had a hard time adjusting to living with Sukuna. I lived alone for so long that I forgot how it was living with someone. Quickly, I could adapt to his cold attitude in the morning, seeing him walk around the house wet and with a towel wrapped around his slutty waist, and listening to his complaints when we left the gym. Sukuna is the one who pays for everything, the only thing I could contribute to the house was to cook for him from time to time if the cook was not available. I couldn't help but feel like a sugar baby, but that feeling went away every time I used the magnificent indoor pool.

The microwave announcing that my popcorn was ready brought me out of my thoughts. I was preparing myself some popcorn as tonight's fights began. The schedule was not very exciting, except for the main fight. The fight for the heavyweight division championship between Toji Fushiguro and Aoi Todo. A battle between two powerful giants of the UFC.

I returned to the kitchen to prepare the popcorn to my liking in a bowl. I opened the refrigerator to look for the juice I had bought before I got home. Being a high-performance athlete, Sukuna's smart refrigerator only served to store large amounts of chicken breast, vegetables, and sparkling water. If I wanted something with sugar or “chemicals”, I had to buy it myself and hide it so as not to tempt Sukuna's appetite. As I closed the door, I noticed the new dietary regimen that Sukuna's nutritionist had asked hm to follow.

"Chicken, rice, and broccoli for 4 days straight? No wonder he's always so angry,” I thought out loud as I quickly scanned the sheet of paper.

No sugar. Do not eat carbs after 6 pm. Just an egg without yolk in the morning. I knew that Sukuna was a highly disciplined athlete, but going on such a demanding diet was ridiculous. If a nutritionist asked me to follow this regimen like a soldier, I would fire her in no time.

There were so many things I wanted to change about his extreme lifestyle, but I was sure I wouldn't be able to figure it out before my last day. Furthermore, I had to tell him that I would no longer be his coach and that someone else was going to take my place. I didn't know how he would even take the news. I just had to make sure to tell him when he is in a good mood. Who am I kidding? He is never in a good mood, that goes against his personality.

"Fuck this shit!" Sukuna yelled as he reluctantly entered the house. Now was not the right time to tell him.

He tossed his backpack onto the small stool at the entrance, where we kept our shoes and had a mirror for finishing touches. Sukuna slammed the door shut which offended my ears. I just watched him confused while I ate my popcorn.

"Things didn’t go well with the Olympian?" I asked, trying to understand where his anger was coming from.

While I was at the doctor, Sukuna went to the Olympic stadium to have an exclusive sparring with a boxing gold medalist. He insisted that I cancel my appointment to come with him, but I told him that even if I did that, I wouldn't be much help. My specialty is jujitsu, not boxing. I told him that Gojo knows more than me, and he stopped annoying me.

"That idiot asked for a break on the fifth round. Can you fucking believe that?! The best boxer in the nation?! My balls can last longer than that!” He exclaimed in annoyance as he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

"Could it be because it was training and not a real fight?" I asked before putting a popcorn in my mouth, staying calm. If I got down to his level, he would only get more upset.

"If I had wanted to waste my time, I would have trained with one of the gym's rookies,"Sukuna mumbled.

He sat on the stool and sighed heavily as he unlaced his shoes to enter the house. I could see the helplessness in his eyes at not having the demanding training he wanted. Having a perfect streak of 28 overwhelming victories, he hasn't had a rival who can match his level in years. Always being the winner means that you are not learning, and you are staying stagnant while others moved forward, Sukuna was afraid of being left behind.

I sighed as I understood his anger, putting the bowl aside to approach him. I took advantage of the fact that he was at my level to gently massage his shoulders. Even though I didn't do it with a romantic intention, touching him like that after weeks felt like drinking water in the middle of the Sahara. A temporary pleasure that I had to take advantage as much as I could.

"Do you know what it means that he didn't last more than 5 rounds?" I asked him while massaging his neck.

"I'm not in the mood for your shit," he mumbled, focused on his shoes.

"Let me finish!" I barked. "It means you're better than an Olympic medalist," he looked at me again, calmer now.

"You think?" he asked me, looking at me to deduce if I was saying it out of pity or not.

"Of course! You are the king of the ring, not just in the UFC!" I cheered, giving him a friendly pat on the arm.

"Not everyone can go against the king," he said with an evil smile.

It was one of those few times I've seen him smile like that. I'm glad to know that I could be of use to him outside the gym. I wanted to be the cause for him to smile more often, even if it meant he didn't feel the same way about me. A reality that I was willing to accept for the sake of both of us.

The fight between Aoi Todo and Toji Fushiguro was about to start. The current champion, Toji, entered shining his glorious belt with Welcome To The Jungle by Guns N' Roses in the background while the commentators read his statistics. Aoi, the challenger, Todo looked forward to the fight from the octagon. The crowd was excited, music was blaring from the speakers, and commentators were debating who would take home the belt. It was an important fight that deserved to be seen on the room's beautiful 80"inch screen.

"That son of a bitch," Sukuna snorted behind me, referring to Toji. He was in my robe as always before going to sleep.

"A talented son of a bitch," I joked. "Sit down and watch it with me."

"I'll watch it until I get sleepy," Sukuna scoffed as he sat next to me on the couch.

After formal introductions and the referee's instructions, the first round took place. The two mastodons faced each other face to face in a rain of punches and jabs that seemed to have no end. They were like two bulls striking each other with their sharp horns, making the plaza resonate with the power of their tackles. It was clear that Aoi Todo was a born boxer who did not allow himself to be intimidated by the enormous presence of Fushiguro with those beastly hits. Before Toji could take him to the ground, like he had done in the fight against Sukuna, the bell rang.

“Who are you rooting to?” I asked Sukuna excitedly.

"I do not know, and I do not care." he answered with a yawn. That answer deserved me to throw my empty popcorn bowl at him.

"It's a very important fight! You should know!" I scolded him as the TV went to commercial break. "Todo and Fushiguro have been fighting for the division title for 2 years. Both have won twice simultaneously. This is their fifth fight. It's the fight for 3 out of 3!” I explained. Sukuna shrugged his shoulders, downplaying it the importance it deserved.

"And who are you rooting for?" He asked me to make conversation as they returned to the fight.

"Aoi Todo is a magnificent boxer like you…". At the comparison, Sukuna gave me a killer glance. "Obviously, you are the best," I corrected before he killed me.

"That is what I thought."

"But Toji is a complete fighter, I am team Toji for life," I replied with a proud smile. Sukuna gave me another killing look, this time it was more stern. I really don't learn from my mistakes, huh? "Obviously I'm Team Black before that," I said with a guilty smile.

The champion threw a quick jab, but the challenger easily dodged it. Aoi responded with a combination of quick strikes that made Fushiguro flinched. He stumbled back, but stayed upright. He threw a wild right hand, but the challenger blocked it with his forearm. The challenger took the opportunity to launch a flurry of jabs that Toji dodged like a master. Aoi continued entering her field, causing Toji's back to hit the fence. He threw one last desperate right hand, but Todo dodged it and responded with a left hook that sent the champion to the ground.

"¡No!" I exclaimed upon seeing the knockout.

"Too bad…" Sukuna mocked me.

After my champion couldn't get up easily, the referee ended the fight. The challenger had won the fight with a monstrous knockout. The crowd roared and Todo raised his arms in victory as he ran around the octagon. He had defeated his legendary opponent and became the new champion of the heavyweight division.

"First words after defeating such an important rival?". The interviewer asked Todo as he celebrated with his team supporting him behind him.

Masterlist.

Order your own fanfic! (Starting price: $5 USD)

Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one! :)

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emidealia · 1 year

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☆ timeless what's AWAITING YOU next month ☆

Hey lovelies! Bienvenue! This is a PICK A CARD tarot reading is about what you need to hear about your upcoming month, starting pretty much from where you are right now. Choose a picture from the top 1, 2 or from the bottom 3, 4. Be kind and take with you only what applies. Take a deep breath ...and enjoy!:)

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 1

Nurture your Goddess energy

Main thing you’ll focus this month is bringing back rosy feeling(fresh, sweet, gorg). You have a tendency to not feel like a boss a— bitch and this is rooted in trauma from home/finances and results in lack of trust, confidence in yourself. Perhaps not feeling “clean” or not having a romantic lifestyle like others around you and on internet. It is affecting how you express your mind, the way you present yourself etc. Because you don’t really believe in yourself you treat yourself as such. The way back from this is from outward actions too. This month you’ll start prioritizing having a put together bedroom, aesthetically pleasing desk and thought-out hairstyles, makeup and outfits. Healing feminine energy will be truly empowering for you. Look into that! When you act confident you start gaining back your power, truly believing and feeling worthy and divine.

Don’t deny it, there’s a lot you could do in your situation. There’s absolutely no point in sitting in your despair, hoarding sadness, feeling pathetic. Literally no one else cares, no one will come feeling sorry for you and no one but yourself can save you. Be known for having built yourself up or are you envisioning yourself in the same pile of pity years from now, only more bitter? If you can change it, stop whining and change. If you can’t, then there’s no point in whining either, it’s out of your control. But be honest.

Back to what you can do. What is it that creates a spark in you? Even the smallest of desires to get yourself together. For example late at night on pinterest or the right tiktok hitting the spot, maybe the right friend or seeing what your interests can accomplish. Journaling, vision boards, meditating, working out, waking up early, podcasts. Gather everything that sparks the motivation to start something, change sth about yourself, chase your dreams and such. Use these things to your advantage, learn what helps your mind to stay focused, body to stay healthy. Learning about the way you can motivate yourself with your actions, you’ll trick your brain into being more confident as the brain changes everyday according to your surroundings. I do recommend notion for putting down your plan to renew yourself, music, habits, dreams, routines etc. This month you’ll be in your element and succeed babe. Love the process, love yourself, you are so goddamn worthy of living as you desire. You are divine as fuck, you lack nothing!

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 2

A long period came to an end. School term, finals, relationship, friendship, lease on sth or a project? Even though it’s over, rather than being grateful, glad, you visit the situation and feel a bit guilty, uncertain, could you have changed the outcome, said/done it better or been more present? Yeah, no, stop, it’s useless. Maybe you could have, how about that? Nothing to do about it anyways. Find peace for yourself human! You are in the now, it is certain that storm is over and be glad.

MOVING ON. Too much overthinking, man, this time about the future. You are tiring your mind, so much is going on, like the 13 open tabs and there’s music, screaming, a random question about lemurs and existensialism video essays. A lot of escapism, wishing someone would make the decisions for you or being far away from here, doing nothing. No no no. You can’t give away your oppurtunities and potential, you’ll learn a lot from this. You are destined for greatness. I’ll be honest this month there are a few days of feeling shitty but it’s in your control and nothing you couldn’t deal with. Also nothing you haven’t done before so this may be a reoccurring lesson. Main question is, how tf to sustain yourself? In healthy-ish coping mechanisms please. Learn to find something stable in your life that doesn’t fall apart if everything else does.

Main focus this month is about concious progress, intentional advancements. Things will get better, you’ll keep pushing forward, along with much success and enjoyment. You can shape your career, hobbies, plans in according to your own timetable, if you make the needed choices. In this upcoming period you need to be grounded and ready to jump at oppurtunities. You are ambitious, career-driven, but a step back does not kill you. It’s actually essential to sustain yourself. Your brain is a resource, for too long you have used it only for work, being in survival mode, resulting in feeling drained out of power.

I know how hard it is, but take a break, several breaks, a vacation even. Learn to do nothing more than just exist for once. Loving yourself for you, not just for your work validation. That’s also something you should tak einto consideration this month. Separating yourself from performance statistics in your job. If you give it so much control it can really eat you up and destroy you. But you are more than that, am I right? I bloody am, you are an amazing person. Reconnect with yourself, with more humanity. Get rid of the need to be perfect. You really don't need to. Truly okay if you couldn't do your best, or just didn't. It's okay.

Being mentally ready, feeling present and being truly glad to wake up to experience the world is pretty awesome. You’ll be ready for anything then. Love you for you!!! Kisses and hugs, muah :)

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 3

Right away, when starting this pile I was full of the feeling YOLO, let’s do it :D. Spring is coming. Oh the cards made me smile right away. Attracting like a rose, receiveing abundance, you have a right to your joy. Screamiiiiing in joy. I’m obsessed. You have noticed how easily you manifest, right? The little things just flow to you. This is your time: vision boards, letters, writing down your wishes, affirmations, being grateful. You’ll receive everything you manifest right now.

Fall into the mystery, when you receive oppurtunities take them. Your manifestations come in different forms, what you might gain may be hidden but you will receive what you desire for sure. If an offer sparks feelings in you, the ,,what if ;)” type. DO IT! It’s your soul calling. If you want to advance creativity, learn new skills or gain a little money, you might do it in a different way you anticipated. I sense some workshops or little jobs, it might not be exactly what you thought about when manifesting but it’s like such a cute opportunity to also take some time off. It will be easy and safe to you, in a good way. Your boss or the manager and colleagues will be such great people, you’ll gain so many connections. I hear some teamwork is in order. I feel you will be receiving abundance in the form of what your inner child loved to do. You’ll be connecting to that forgotten side of yourself. I think you are aware of the hobby, but forgotten the potential of it, the joys it can bring you. This can turn out to be first of all an amazing way to connect to yourself, but also a way to gain mental well-being and little side cash. It will offer emotional and physical things, like the joy of creating art and having paintings in your home or selling prints on internet.

I just need to put this out there that it will be something you can connect over with your future significant other too. This shared joy for a hobby is truly pure, healing and sweet. You may even meet through this. Yep they are amazing, but don’t take your focus on romantic validation, you know better. There’s this beautiful saying. If you spend your time chasing butterflies, they'll fly away. If you spend your time making a beautiful garden the butterflies will come to you. And if they don't come, then you still have the beautiful garden.

STAY LOVELY!

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 4

I started the reading with bits of confusion and come clumsiness but in a free nonjudgemental chill way if that makes sense? Pfft oops:D anyways … You are the essence of confidence, self acceptance, at least you are perceived that way. You know your needs, you don’t resist when you need a break, you ask and you receive. Great standards, others must accept you like u do. Just like it should be. I am enchanted by your energy and I’m not the only one. This month you’ll keep on shining like you are, taking it to another level. Others will be greatly motivated by your ability to be in total control of your life, caring for your wishes and needs with trust. Main focus this month is advancing your everyday things: style may be the most prominent, also smaller things like a new type of go-to food or coffee you swear by. You’ll have great luck in finding new items for your wardrobe and new ingredients for recipes. So saying yes to going thrifting or buying mysterious exciting things will be rewarding.

Traveling to a neighboring city or country most likely alone. A great refreshment for you. I see you safely wandering in the evening, finding cool bars, cafes, museums, talking and hanging out with strangers but essentially making new friends and learning about people. This is something that really interests you, finding out about different subjects, talking to strangers, learning about different opinions and world views. At the same time, you will also develop your own hobby, photography or filmmaking, writing or doing remote work.

So to sum up, this month is about great curiosity, travelling, charming, communication with new people, developing your style and pursuing a hobby. Life is a grand adventure!

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

#tarot #tarot reading #2023 tarot reading #pac #pac reading #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a picture #tarot card reading #reading #prediction #what you need to hear #advice

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ohbo-ohno · 10 days

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speaking of recommendations, what are your fav books with puppy play in them?

omg yeah!! the thing about puppy play is that it's not like, a super common kink, and i think the idea of being treated like a dog squicks people out enough that they react negatively before giving it a chance, so i don't have a tonnn of recs but i'm more than happy to share some of my faves!!

also if you have recs that aren't in this list, please GOD send them to me

i'll do these in order of like, most puppy play :)

King by T.M. Frazier - no actual puppy play, but the FMC wakes up with complete amnesia and the MMC names her "pup", which reallyyyy worked for me. There's a kinda 24/7 D/s thing going on, and I overall really enjoyed the dynamic between the two characters

Fight Me Daddy by Skylar Snow - i actually really enjoyed the overall dynamic of these two! the puppy play is definitely Present, but all the heavier kink scenes are fade to black. despite what the title would suggest, there isn't much daddy kink here

His Captive Pet and Protecting His Pet by Measha Stone - nonconsensual puppy play and kink life in general. these ones are pretty intense, and the FMCs are actively distressed by the fact that their consent is ignored. but the puppy play here is realllyyyy heavy - full on living in kennels, sleeping in dog beds, being walked on leashes, all of that. but they're also very dark books, so keep that in mind

Taken by Felicity Brandon - honestly super similar to dlmliyh. the kink here is also nonconsensual, and the puppy play is very much a Lifestyle kink and not just a during sex kink

#asks and answers #recs #i totally get why people don't like puppy play btw #like there are DEF kinks that i just Do Not understand #but i think a lot of people hear “he wants to treat her like a dog while they're fucking” and are just out immediately #which like. fair #but not for ME!!

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ash-and-starlight · 4 months

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Books of 2023

the list nobody asked for <3

My reading habits had gone a bit stagnant in the past couple of years so this year i made the effort to engage in reading again and wow books really are good!! who would have thought! Sharing this year's book log with the small reviews i did while reading yeah i am That kind of list lover if u feel like being nosy, (and maybe even help mi crowdsource reading recs based on my likes 👀🤲?)

The left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin Ursula i Need to know your thoughts on omegaver- [gunshot] THAT ASIDE yeah. mrs Le Guin you've done it again. I can see why everyone got their brain chemistry altered by this book.

The Membranes - Chi Ta-Wei another brain chemistry altering book. would love to discuss it with a gender studies major lmao

Satanic Verses - Salman Rushdie its a v atmospheric and poignant story, I know I would have loved it more if I was familiar with the rich religious/cultural background it draws from

The Masquerade Series - Seth Dickinson Crazy insane in the membrane about this series. one of the most compelling worldbuildings I've ever seen, and most importantly it features one of the most crazy wet pathetic scrunkly meow meow protagonists i've ever had the pleasure of reading about.

Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides i liked the writing style of this book a lot! idk how well it holds up re: intersexuality topic, but its a very engaging read.

Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers: Monstrosity, Patriarchy, and the Fear of Female Power - Jude Ellison, Sady Doyle The title says it all honestly, its a beautiful, thought provoking and engaging essay, spanning eras, pop culture phenomenons, and real life events on the topic of women and horror.

The cat who saved books - Sōsuke Natsukawa this was so cute and heartfelt, it will really make you go Ah Yes, this is Why we Love Books <333

The Locked Tomb Series - Tamsyn Muir now when people say there is a girl who is the cursed sacrifice of 2000 infants who falls in love with the sleeping embodiment of the soul of the Earth (barbie) and also another girl who is the only survivor of the aforementioned sacrifice and is. a Jesus metaphor? and also the two girls become one at some point. and every book is a different genre. and god is bisexual. and memes survived the nuclear apocalypse. I can just nod and say so true.

The Area X Trilogy - Jeff VanderMeer Rotating this series in the microwave of my mind at the speed of light it's soSO GOOD!! the movie doesn't even come close honestly u NEED to read the books. and then go touch grass and be aware of every strand in a completely new way.

The Dawn of Yangchen - F. C. Yee nice read! I was more invested in the worldbuilding crumbs than in the actual story lmao, I will forever think about the HEATED airball rivalry between the air temples and about the swt greetings / bethrotal armbands.

Inuit Stories of Being and Rebirth: Gender, Shamanism, and the Third Sex - Bernard Saladin d'Anglure starting w a disclaimer bc I feel like the topic of native colonization was ignored when it should have been way more prominent when talking about the context of where and when these testimonies were collected?? That aside it was very interesting and well put together, with first account testimonies of Inuit elders about their myths, lifestyles and beliefs.

Pachinko - Min Jin Lee i read the book after having seen the tv series (which i also rlly recommend). Very moving story about a family and its generations, from Korea under Japanese colonization to modern day America.

Her body and other parties - Carmen Maria Marchado sometimes I go about my day then I remember this book exists and stare at the wall for 30 minutes.

Dictionnaire de l'impossible - Didier Van Cauwelaert big miss. this collection of articles about "strange impossible phenomenons" sounded so quirky and interesting but i sure would have loved if the author hadnt so clearly picked a side. and also way too much church for my tastes.

He who Drowned the World - Shelley Parker Chan Im not even gonna speak about this one if you've followed me since july you know what pits of insanity and despair i'm in

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow - Gabrielle Zevin Sometimes!! the book with pretty covers put in the "famous on socials" bookstore section!! are good!! It's about being othered it's about connection it's about diaspora it's about love and friendship and most of all it's about viddy games.

Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel reading this post-covid and learning it was written in 2017 was A TRIP. Psychic damage at every page. still feeling very normla.

The Mask of Apollo - Mary Renault Ugh i desperately wanted to like this book because the setup is so interesting and full of potential, but the end result was just. flat. flat story flat characters the plot focusing on the wrong things at the wrong times i was so DONE when i reached the end otz.

Babel - R. F. Kuang LOVED the worldbuilding in this, the "lost in translation" system of magic is one of the most interesting things ive ever read. I think theres something about the writing in general that didn't win me over completely?? but all in all a very good

Red Ocean - Han Song This sure is a Book. That i've Read. its so profundly strange and unlike anything ive come across that i dont even know what to feel about it. i think 90% of my confusion comes from Not Getting Cultural References so if someone has a "red ocean explained" essay plz send it my way bc i couldnt find one.

#taking with me into next year Chromorama and The seven moons of Maali Almeida #anyway blease talk to me about your fave books!!#or about the ones in this list!!#send post #books

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justalittlesolarpunk · 1 month

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Would you happen to have or know anyone who has solarpunk resources for in deserts? I live in Vegas so I'm not sure if some things I see will be able to help me here :)

Hi! Thanks for getting in touch. Just wanted to preface this by saying I don’t live in a desert, I never have lived in a desert, and I don’t know a lot about deserts (I come from one of the rainiest places in Europe lol). So I may not be the best person to ask.

That said, I have seen some cool stuff floating about. The whole liquid trees debate that circulated recently was a good example - obviously these are redundant in a temperate climate where trees can grow, but in a desert a machine that captures carbon and generates electricity using algae would be pretty useful! I have also heard of various anecdotal stories of people greening or farming deserts, though I’m a bit more iffy about that - should we be changing the ecosystem?

Large swathes of uninhabited desert, with their constant hot sun, could be really good places for big solar parks, though, and the panels in turn could provide shade for plants and animals.

I’d recommend reading up on the lifestyles of indigenous and traditional desert societies across Africa, Asia and the Americas, looking at what technologies they use to keep cool, supply drinking water, etc. Lots of desert plants can have edible or medicinal functions that people don’t know about, so looking into them would be pretty neat - I know people have talked about vegan cactus leather and stuff though I worry that could become mass-commercialised and damage the desert.

Ultimately yeah, I think solarpunk desert narratives and movements are really cool and very under-appreciated. These places have a unique relationship to sunlight and solar power, and more of the planet is going to be desertified due to climate change, so I think they should be at the forefront of the movement. I don’t know much about them at all but I’d love to learn! If you find anything out about how we can apply solarpunk in the desert please do get back in touch and let me know, and who knows, perhaps you can start a solarpunk movement in Las Vegas!

#solarpunk #hopepunk #environmentalism #social justice #community #optimism #bright future #climate justice #America #usa #turtle island #ask #Las Vegas #deserts #maybe we could make #desertpunk #a thing if it isn’t already #dune soundtrack starts playing XD

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adoremoonie · 4 months

Text

The Mixed Legacy Challenge for The Sims 3

This is (gonna be) a 10 generation legacy challenge. I came up with this challenge simply because I could not decide what legacy challenge I wanted to do so I did a mix of all my favourite ones. Including Not So Berry, Jam Legacy, Zodiac Legacy & All In One Lepacy! So all credit goes to the creators! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ

Rules: ☆ Finish the rules of every generation, but there are different options for some generations so you can do whatever fits your gameplay preference more!

☆ There is a color for every generation if you want berry sims etc!

☆ There is a family trait that you choose that every generation heir will have. If you can't have a trait because of your family trait you just swap out that one for one similiar!

☆ You got to have this mod to be able to give your sims all the traits I have given them OR you could cheat them when they age up and change them in CAS OR just give them 1-2 of the traits. Would also recommend NRAAS mod aswell because of the money changes etc!

☆ Most importantly do what you want and have fun!

Now for the generations...

Generation 1: Purple You left everything you know behind, escape your past for a new beginning. Finally start that family you always wanted with someone new. You want to change, but can you?

Traits: Family Trait, Kleptomaniac, Nurturing, Rebellious, Frugal Job: Start at the cemetery then switch to criminal OR kleptomaniac full time LTW: Become a master chief OR The emperor of evil OR Possession is Nine Tenths of the law

☆ Master athletic and martial arts skills ☆ Use the kleptomaniac trait to provide for your family ☆ Get with your partner and marry them fast ☆ Get the death flower (perhaps at the cemetery?) ☆ 3 or more children

Generation 2: Yellow You don’t want to end up like your parent. You have dreams, big dreams! And you will do everything to be the biggest star, hopefully your family name won’t ruin that.

Traits: Family Trait, Star Quality, Diva, Lucky, Ambitious Job: Singer LTW: Vocal Legend OR Lifestyle of the rich and famous

☆ Have a band as a teenager ☆ When you become an YA you quit the band to go solo ☆ Master an instrument (guitar, piano etc) ☆ Become a five star celebrity ☆ Marry a big celebrity ☆ Only have one child

Generation 3: Red You lived in luxury thanks to your parent but did that make you a little spoiled? Maybe. you say as you move to a big mansion in the tropics. But you do actually have a job! You are a lifeguard and you save tons of cute tourists everyday. Yeah, maybe you did buy an hotel just to flex but can't be that hard to run one of those?

Traits: Family, Great kisser, Loves to swim OR Sailor, Party animal, Snob Job: Lifeguard then Resort owner LTW: Resort Empire OR Seaside Savior

☆ Have only one child ☆ Buy and run an hotel when you are an adult ☆ Reach level 5 of scuba diving ☆ Have one of those people you saved OR a mermaid be your future partner ☆ Own a house boat

Generation 4: Blue You had a little bit of a rough childhood, sure you were rich but your snobby parent barely gave you any of that rich money so you start working on cars on the side to make some side money, but turns out you LOVE it. You’ve always craved that big family life and you will spoil your children rotten in ALL the ways.

Traits: Family Trait, Family oriented, Slob, Schmoozer, Vehicle Enthusiast LTW: Surrounded by Family Job: Work at a part-time job OR Daycare before you quit to start making cars for a living

☆ Meet your partner in high school and marry as soon as you both age up to YA ☆ Be best friend with all your children ☆ Fix up ATLEAST 10 cars ☆ Throw family parties every season ☆ Buy every thing your children wishes for

Generation 5: Green You had an amazing but messy childhood. You had everything. A big loving family! But that also meant no privacy and you couldn’t do what you love the most without your siblings disturbing, science. So now you just want to be alone.

Traits: Family Trait, Loner, Eccentric, Neat, Grumpy LTW: Monster Maker Job: Science Career or none

☆ Move to a new town and the house should be as far away from the town as possible and never move out ☆ Make imaginary friend real ☆ Have ONE friend ☆ Marry your (only) friend OR an alien/imaginary friend/simbot ☆ Master the inventing skill ☆ Build two simbots optional: have an alien baby

Generation 6: Pink Having been stuck in the same town, in the same house, you need something new! You need adventure! And you want to capture it all. But you also have to get home to look after your plants.

Traits: Family Trait, Daredevil, Outgoing, Gatherer/Green Fingers, Adventurous LTW: World class gallery OR Great explorer

☆ Go to China, Egypt and France ☆ Master the photographing and gardening skills ☆ Complete atleast 3 thombs at each location ☆ Marry someone from China, France or Egypt ☆ Get atleast one VISA ☆ Have a big garden with every plant

Generation 7: Orange You have always loved horses, a horse girl (or boy, or person) if you will. But having your own horses and a big ranch is expensive and your parent wasted it all on traveling so you work smart not hard!

Traits: Family Trait, Equestrian, Horse Lover, Dislikes children, Mooch LTW: Gold Digger OR The Jockey Job: Any job before you get married then quit

☆ Start with 30 000 simoleons ☆ Marry rich and have them mysteriously die ☆ Master the nectar making skill and riding skills ☆ Win a competition on the highest level for racing ☆ Have 3 or more horses ☆ Have twins

Generation 8: Grey Yes you are twins, you look exactly like each other but your personalities couldn’t be more different. One of you got your nose in the books since you had the chance, always got good grades, got the diploma and finally got your dream job. While the other wasn’t as lucky in school, it was just too hard but you still go to university with your twin and you might have not gotten the best grades but you sure had fun and also met your soulmate.

☆ Have both twins as heir ☆ Go to university with both twins

Twin 1 Traits: Family Trait, Over-emotional, Irresistible, Workaholic, Non-Committal Job: Politcian OR Doctor LTW: Master Romancer OR perfect student ☆ Have a rocky relationship with your partner/partners ☆ Get married for the first time as an older elder ☆ Max charisma skill ☆ Only have one child or none ☆ Good grades ☆ Get the naughty reputation Optional: Get two diplomas

Twin 2 Traits: Family Trait, Loser, Artistic, Easily impressed, Nurturing LTW: Jack of all trades ☆ Have 5 or more different jobs ☆ Get fired from at least 3 jobs ☆ Meet the love of your life in university ☆ Max painting OR sculpting skill ☆ Bad grades ☆ Have two or more children ☆ Help children with all skills ☆ Get the Eternally Faithful reputation

Generation 9: Plum Your parent got you this supernatural book for you when you were a kid about werewolves, witches, vampires… All of it! Ever since then you have been hooked. Can you find it out in the real world too? And of course, your cat is sleeping right beside you while you read.

Traits: Family Trait, Bookworm, Supernatural Fan, Socially Awkward OR Brooding, Cat Lover LTW: Any from the Supernatural expension Job: Fortune teller OR Ghost hunter

☆ Max the writing skill (writing supernatural books) ☆ Don’t have a tv in your house, only books and computer ☆ Marry a supernatural creature ☆ Become a supernatural creature ☆ Own 3 cats or more Optional: Find cure to become human again

Generation 10: Turquoise

In the works...

If you play this challenge you can use the hashtag #mixed legacy or tag me!

and please give any feedback you might have! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#ts3 challenge #ts3 legacy #sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 legacy #sims 3 legacy challenge #mixed legacy

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kiefbowl · 1 year

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What advice would you give to a woman who is about to turn 30?

Your work probably has direct deposit and you’re probably already using it, but make sure you’re setting up 10% to go to your savings account. Self tithe yourself, once you start you won’t even miss that 10% and your savings will grow. If you don’t have a savings account, I recommend getting one. You don’t have to do it with your current bank, you can shop around for what works for you and have it with another bank. Some banks have rules about when and how you can open a savings with them, like I would bet there are many that won’t let you open one without a checking account (I’ve been with the same bank since I was a small child, so I haven’t even done my due diligence and shopped around).

Limit your alcohol. Yeah, it’s tasty and fun and you might not even have a problem or you might not drink that much anyway, but tbh it catches up with you so much faster now. Try to take intentional breaks for long stretches of time to get a sense of how you feel without it.

You’re probably and hopefully entering a phase of your career where you have a bit more flexibility with your income. Even if you’re not there yet, you’re probably getting better with money. In either or neither case, let me stress this importance: your home is worth designing to be fun and dreamy for you. You can easily do this slowly and at a minimum budget, but put some money and time aside for it! A couple of thrifted knicknacks and $30 for a framed poster and maybe some twinkle lights or w/e can do a lot to make your home feel like home, and stop feeling like you’re still living a transient 20 something lifestyle. The point is start putting some priority on it, because more often than not people forget to buy art for their home because it’s “frivolous.” It’s not, it’s important. AND, it’s a great thing to ask for for gift exchanges since you’re probably getting to the point where you don’t know what you want and you don’t want random ass shit any more.

You have to wash your dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, it’s better to use as a sanitizer.

Cleaning can be fun if you make it fun. Intentionality with your space (related to that point up there about making a point to gussy up the place) makes for a happy and healthy person. Don’t work against your impulses and motivators. If you can’t power clean for 4 hours, don’t try you’ll just be mad that you didn’t get it done. Do the routine that makes you the least miserable, and then make if fun somehow like an audio book or rewarding yourself with a milkshake or w/e.

Another thought about cleaning: add some straightening up routine to your bedtime routine. Wait, scratch that, let’s do that one first: have a bedtime routine. It doesn’t have to be super specific, it can be like turn on the lamps and turn off the overheads at 7, no screen time after 8, be in bed by 9. Or whatever works for you.

But my suggestion is to also do some straitening up too! 15 minutes! Straighten up the couch, clear off your coffee table, sweep - wam bam you wake up to a nice clean living room. Maybe the next night you clean the toilet and clear up the bathroom sink. Now you wake up next morning into a nice clean bathroom. And it just makes it easier when it’s time to really clean-clean.

Delete instagram.

Don’t suffer bullshit. With each passing year it comes easier.

Enjoy what comes, you’re always changing and growing :)

#I shot these off top of dome

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thevagabondexpress · 2 months

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something something gangs of ketterdam something something geography

Take a look at the available maps from the Grishaverse and you'll notice something. While maps of Ravka and Shu Han and Novyi Zem are nice and interesting and pretty to look at, and the Ice Court has reasonably good description, that one map of Ketterdam? Yeah. It's rendered in so much incredibly beautiful detail that you can literally see the city's devils (see what i did there? eh?). Six of Crows, and Crooked Kingdom particularly, have a very intense love for and understanding of geography that seems to be unique in the series. Alina Starkov is ostensibly a cartographer and yet Ketterdam is the city I could confidently find my way around and probably direct tourists around as well. And when you think about it, this actually makes a lot of sense. For the Crows that live there, knowing your geography could be a matter of life and death.

I was never in a gang (thank God and my faerie godmother) but I grew up in the poorer neighborhoods of a big city so I know enough about them to know that the experience Leigh describes is pretty accurate. Among the various simplicities and complexities of group crime (major organized as well as four dudes in hoodies alike), territory is a big one. It's brought up in the books, the Crows have Fifth Harbor, it's theirs, and the Black Tips pay a hefty price for encroaching on it. Gang territories are like political borders and if members cross over from their place of residence to somebody else's, it's tantamount to an invasion. The Crows would need to know the city like the back of their hand for more than just profitable purposes and it shows in the books.

Not only that, but many of them have other personal reasons to be good at geography. Kaz is not just a gangster, he's ostensibly a king among them. He's deeply involved, he's got enemies, he's got pies. He's going to want to know who everyone is and where they are so he can stay as many steps ahead as he does. Inej grew up living a nomadic lifestyle, traveling in caravans along routes laid down by probably centuries' worth of tradition. Plus there's the Fold to worry about. Or at least there was. She would have learned navigating from her family from a young age, would've learned which towns are safe and which are not, which roads to use and to avoid. She would have then applied that knowledge to the city easily, probably near-subconsciously, once she could walk in it freely. Plus, I mean, she's getting around by rooftops, she's going to need to know more than just street signs. Meanwhile, Nina is a spy and soldier, quickly learning the lay of the land was no doubt a part of her training, and Wylan was born and raised in the city. Even living in the wealthy districts for most of his life (he wasn't in the Barrel that long before the start of the book, remember), he'd still have a native's grasp of the world around him. Jesper and Matthias are the only characters who don't have a geography connection beyond trying not to start a gang war and Matthias is the only one who genuinely wouldn't probably care. Well, I guess Kuwei probably wouldn't give much of a damn about geography either if we're counting him, but he spends most of his time in the story being shunted from one place to another by other people.

So yeah. When you think about it, geography's gonna be hella important to the Crows and it makes sense that it shows up like this in the books. Now, do I necessarily like that I could probably give Barrel breakfast restaurant recommendations to a friend? Not really, unless I'm writing fanfiction. But it's fun knowing why. Now, the mystery of why Alina isn't this geography-knowledgeable when she's literally a cartographer . . .

(tagging @tleeaves @4uru and @immortalarizona for your thoughts if you have any)

update: map:

#six of crows #shadow & bone #ketterdam geography #this really isn't an analysis post so much as it's me pointing and going “hey cool thing!”#or maybe the crows are all secretly canadian #now there's a rare joke

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alovelywaytospendanevening · 5 days

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I just wanted to say thank you so, so much for the Wingmen recommendation 💖 I doubt if I would have found this book by accident and I loved it so much!! I have just finished the book and I am struggling to string a sentence together right now, still processing. So I thought I would ask you your thoughts on the book and why you like it so much!

Oh, I'm so glad you liked it!

While The Charioteer is probably my favorite novel ever, Wingmen is not far off from the top spot. As a historian, I always say good historical fiction can teach you a lot, and I did learn by reading Wingmen. The author clearly knew the stuff he was writing about: the aircraft, the dates, the battles, the Navy lifestyle, the whole war effort... It's all detailed and realistic, a really immersive experience. Even if the romance is the main draw, this is a true military fiction work.

And the romance. I love Fred and Jack. Case wanted to raise the bar for gay characters in the genre, and he achieved this. Notice that in spite of the period and the prejudices, this isn't a story about homophobia — it's a war story with a love affair. Yeah, Fred and Jack eventually suffer from prejudice, but the main point is that they are warriors. A warrior couple, as Eric Patterson described them, willing to sacrifice themselves for each other, and whose love was built around a strong sense of mutual respect.

Despite the realism, the plot isn't just a bunch of events following each other. It works in a carefully crafted crescendo, it has rhythm, and it's very satisfying to follow. The battle scenes are incredible; I remember being so tense when I was reading them for the first time! The author is also never dismissive towards women or Japanese people (despite some characters presenting period-typical takes), which is refreshing for a 1970s book of this kind. He was cautious when it comes to love scenes between the main characters, but that can be excused (particularly if you’re used to Mary Renault).

And I have to say I find Duane Higgins a fascinating character. Unlike Fred and Jack, you never really know what is going on inside his head (but I have some theories!).

#ask #wingmen #ensan case

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pagesfromthevoid · 11 months

Text

Traicionero | j.p.

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Word Count: 9.9k (Ahaha woops)

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence. Oral (f receiving). P in V sex. Fingering. Dubious consent (Javi is drunk when he gets to her). Plot with smut basically. Poorly translated Spanish. Possibly OOC Javier?

Author’s Note: I don’t even know why I wrote this. More importantly I don’t know why I needed any sort of plot to fuck Javier Peña but alas. Here we are. Also, yes. I totally got the opening line from Teen Wolf. Don't fuckin' judge me.

Requests are OPEN

“Do you wanna hear it in Spanish, Peña?” She mocked, standing tall in front of the ambassador’s office door. He was glaring down at her, eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Fucking clever, princesa,” he countered, reaching out to move her. But she blocked his hands.

“Touch me, and I swear to God, Peña —Escobar will be the least of your concerns.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary,” he taunted, grabbing her upper arms to move her once more. With her heel, she slammed her foot into his boot and he cussed angrily and released her. “Jesus Christ. Just let me through.”

“I’m under strict orders to let no one in this office. Especially you.”

As the new assistant to the Ambassador of the US in Columbia, she wasn’t about to risk her job because of some pretty boy agent who thought he was the shit. Crosby had made himself very clear when she was hired: don’t let Peña boss her around; don’t let Murphy guilt trip her. She was the fourth assistant in three years, with the other three having quit due to pressure or been fired for not being able to follow orders.

Crosby blamed Javier Peña for the first two quitting; certain the agent didn’t call or hurt their feelings enough to make the women refuse to work with him. The third one was fired for leaking information to the press.

She would be different. She already was. Agent Peña wasn’t going to get her in bed, for one. He’d tried during her first week. Flirted up a goddamn storm. Complimented everything about her from her hair to her nails to her shoes. It was a fine daydream at first —he was pretty and polite as far as she could tell —until Crosby called her into his office and warned her.

So she stopped with that dangerous daydream, choosing to ignore Peña. Just because he was attractive didn’t give him the right to fuck around with everything that had a pulse. Besides, the whole better-than-you thing he had going on annoyed her after the second week. And the way he kept looking at her —like she was a piece of meat needing to be inspected —made her never want to wear a skirt again.

Which she hadn’t, by the way. She had taken to wearing slacks and flowy blouses that didn’t expose more skin than necessary. Was it inconvenient in the Colombian heat? Absolutely. But did it keep Agent Peña from staring at her? Not really at first, but he didn’t do it as much now. And that’s what she cared about.

“I will happily schedule you an appointment,” she offered, though she didn’t step away from the office door.

“Yeah, next fucking year.”

“Actually, I think he has an opening tomorrow at 10.”

“Yeah, I needed him 10 minutes ago, sweetheart. Not gonna fly.”

She just shrugged, hands on her hips as they stared each other down. However, maybe Peña realized he had been beaten. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to fight with her anymore. Because finally, he threw his hands in the air and stormed off, bitching about wasting his time.

Fifteen minutes later, however, Steve Murphy tried his hand.

“I really recommend you walk away from me, Agent Murphy.”

“Yes ma’am.”

———

Four months into the job, and the war against Pablo Escobar, Ambassador Crosby ordered her to take up a desk at the base. She didn’t argue, given his reasoning was solid (“I need someone there to filter through the bullshit. They come to you, you call me.”). However, her new position meant a significant lifestyle change that was a bit more abrupt than she expected.

Turns out, living on a Colombian military base was awful. And even more so, if you were American. And a woman. And as if those two things didn’t make her question quitting her job almost daily (not that she would, but goddamn, she wanted to lately with the amount of bloodied soldiers and cops that came in) —it meant spending an annoying amount of time with Murphy and Peña, who had been sidelined.

Her desk was ten feet away from where the two DEA agents set up their space. Murphy offered to push her closer, joking that they could be the three musketeers, but she just returned to the paperwork she had already filled out, ignoring him.

“One of these days, you’re gonna be thankful it’s us here and not anyone else, hermosa,” Peña stated one evening, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips.

“I’ll be thankful when you actually manage to catch Escobar instead of fucking up raids,” she countered, not looking up from the notes she was rewriting for Martinez.

Murphy laughed at that, and she glanced up as his chair creaked when he leaned back in it. “She’s got a point there, Javi.”

“Shut the fuck up. Whose side are you on?”

“The side that’s usually right,” Murphy continued, looking at her with a grin.

She almost made a comment regarding listening to his wife if that was the case, but she stopped herself. It had been a bad day when he stormed out of the base the afternoon that Connie left; she wasn’t that cruel.

“Flattery gets you nowhere with me.” She hummed a bit, setting her pen down and rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm. The words were jumbling together, and translating from English to Spanish was difficult for someone who was not fluent in the language. And low on caffeine.

“Oh, we know,” Peña replied, sitting on his desk. “If it did, we’d have so much more intel —,”

“Agent Peña,” she interrupted, looking up at him with tired eyes. For a moment, she swore he looked concerned but she chalked it up to wishful thinking; thinking he could care about anyone but himself was a reckless path to put herself on. “As much as I just love listening to you bitch about me doing my job correctly —I can’t handle it right now. So either get me coffee, or shut the fuck up.”

Neither he nor Murphy said another word, looking between each other for a moment before Murphy motioned for him to move. Peña was about to slide off his desk when the phone rang, and his attention snapped back to his actual task at hand as he answered it. She blinked a few times, shaking her head for a second to wake herself up, before she stood up.

Stretching her arms up over her head, she let out a quiet groan as her joints popped. When was the last time she stood up? It felt like it had been hours.

Peña looked at her curiously, phone still pressed to his ear. He paused for a moment, hand over the bottom of the receiver, and this time, she was sure there was concern evident in his tone. "You okay?"

She paused, surprised by the genuine concern in his tone. Dropping back into her chair, she ran a hand over her face, trying to think of something witty to say. But Peña's unexpected display of empathy caught her off guard. For a moment, she considered brushing it off with a dismissive remark, but the weariness in her body won over her usual defenses.

"You actually wanna know?” She asked, eying him closely as she wondered if he actually cared. But Peña nodded, kicking his feet up on his desk as he leaned back his chair, motioning for her to keep talking. She hesitated a moment before she finally spoke, her voice lacking its usual sharpness. "Long nights, endless paperwork…I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Understanding flickered in Peña's gaze, and he nodded sympathetically. "I get it," he replied, glancing at the phone for a moment before he let out a frustrated huff, though he motioned to the phone as if to say he was reacting to the caller. “Look, those notes are gonna be there when you get back. Martinez won’t be here for an hour or two anyway. Why don't you take a break, grab some fresh air –there’s a café down the street from the base that has the good shit.”

She opened her mouth to argue –to make some snide comment about his knowledge of the area –but stopped herself. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself not to let her guard down. Peña may have shown a brief moment of concern, but she knew better than to trust his actions completely. She had learned from both experience and word of mouth that he had his own agenda. She wasn't about to let her guard down just because of a momentary lapse in his usual demeanor.

But…maybe she’d be a little nicer, if only because he was also being nice. The skepticism still lingered, but she couldn't help but entertain the idea that perhaps there was a genuine moment of connection between them, however fleeting it might be.

“Do you want anything?”

He looked back at her, his brow raised as he considered her offer. A mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he snuffed out his cigarette and hung up the phone. "Finally offering to do a coffee run? Took ya long enough," he teased, his usual annoying self resurfacing. “Not today, cariño. Maybe tomorrow.”

Her momentary hope deflated, replaced by annoyance. So much for his newfound niceness.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and adjusting the strap on her shoulder. "Unlikely," she retorted, brushing past him as she walked out of the base.

When she returned an hour later, coffee in hand and the sun setting over the Colombian horizon, she found that her notes were typed up and translated, sitting in a neat pile on her desk. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the fading daylight, creating a sense of calm in the otherwise chaotic office. Her brow furrowed as she looked around the makeshift space they called an office, the empty chairs and silent surroundings indicating that Murphy and Peña were both long gone for the night.

A mix of surprise and intrigue washed over her. She hadn't expected anyone to take the initiative to organize her notes, especially not Peña. It was a small act, but it hinted at a flicker of unexpected consideration. Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

With a curious smile tugging at her lips, she sat down at her desk, her fingers tracing the neatly typed pages. As she perused the translations, she couldn't help but appreciate the effort that had gone into it. She took a sip of her coffee, savoring its warmth as she leaned back in her chair, contemplating the possibilities. Tomorrow would only bring more chaos –such was the life they lived in Colombia –but for now, she would appreciate what felt like an olive branch being extended.

Maybe she would be a little nicer to Javier Peña.

———

“Come out with us,” Steve offered about two months later, leaning back in his chair.. “We finally gotta win –we’re all going out to celebrate.”

In the weeks that followed Peña’s random act of kindness, the three Americans found themselves on far friendlier terms than before. Sure, Javier was still narcissist of the year —but he was nicer about it. What she would have deemed snarky commentary before had become a back and forth banter that Murphy swore up and down was flirting. Each time he made that comment, she gave him a dirty look and rolled her eyes, always responding with something along the lines of In his fucking dreams.

To which Peña would always have a comeback, usually following suit of Always in my dreams, cariño or something equally as cheesy. It was always returned with a little smirk on her end, or a wink from him.

Okay so maybe it was flirting.

But it was friendly flirting. Nothing more. That path was reckless, even if she was starting to hate him a little less than before.

“And watch you get shit faced while Peña flirts with anyone with a pulse?” She countered, fanning herself with the folder in her hand. Summer had hit Colombia hard, and she was melting in her blouse and slacks. Even pulling her hair up didn’t stop her from feeling like her body was more liquid than skin. “I’d rather not.”

“Got better plans?”

“Maybe I booked a nice hotel for the night so I could pamper myself,” she mused, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at the blonde agent. “Maybe I have a date. Who knows? It’s not really your business, is it?”

“There’s not any nice hotels around here, so try again,” Steve teased back, moving to sit on her desk now as he looked down at her. “About the date…I mean, you could but do you actually?”

She gave him a pointed look, before glancing around the base. One of the soldiers was walking by with a box of files, and she called out his name –Andrés. He paused, leaning over the rail to give her his full attention, just as Peña stormed into the base. She didn’t pay him too much attention as she smiled up at the soldier, batting her lashes some as she asked him out. Peña, however, stopped and watched the interaction, brow furrowed.

“¿Salgamos esta noche?”

The soldier looked surprised for a moment but nodded rapidly, smiling brightly at her as he offered to get her at 7. “Absolutamente. ¿Siete?”

“Suena bien.”

The soldier nodded again and walked off to finish his work, clearly a little more pep in his step. She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave Murphy a smug grin. “You were saying?”

Steve just rolled his eyes in exasperation as Peña abruptly yanked his chair out, carelessly tossing his jacket onto the desk. She observed the interaction between them, her brow raised in curiosity as Peña began rummaging through his drawers, seemingly searching for something.

"What's wrong, Javi?" Steve asked, pushing himself off her desk and approaching his partner, concern etched on his face.

"Nothing," Peña snapped, his tone sharp and dismissive. He retrieved a cigarette from the drawer and swiftly lit it, remaining tight-lipped and refusing to offer any further explanation.

She watched as Steve glanced back at her momentarily, a mixture of frustration and confusion evident on his face. Sensing that they were about to engage in a private conversation, they leaned in closer to each other, their voices dropping to hushed whispers that shielded their conversation from her ears.

Unable to catch their words, she watched Steve’s back with a deep frown. It was moments like this, where the two shielded themselves from her earshot, that reminded her that they weren’t properly friends. They didn’t trust her not to rat them out to Crosby. The secrecy between the two partners only reminded her that she was not part of this little team of theirs.

Peña abruptly stood again, frustration etched on his face, and snatched his jacket once more. Steve, mirroring his partner's actions, swiftly straightened up and retrieved his own coat. He cast a brief glance back at her, his eyes reflecting weariness but also attempting to offer a reassuring smile, before the two of them hastily exited the base. The sound of their hurried footsteps echoed through the room, fading into the distance as they disappeared beyond the door.

Left behind, she remained seated for a moment, her mind swirling with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and concern. She stared intently at the retreating backs of Javier and Steve, their forms gradually vanishing from view. Questions flooded her thoughts, demanding answers to what the hell just happened.

***

She ended up canceling her last minute date, having decided that whatever was going on with Peña and Murphy was probably far more important than proving a point to Murphy that she could get a date.

It had been nearly three hours since the two agents practically ran out of the base, and while she didn’t directly ask Crosby what was going on, she tried to dance around the question. The ambassador just told her that someone was leaking information to Los Pepes, allowing the vigilante group to take down another one of Pablo’s guys without the DEA or Colombian police being involved. Crosby told her to keep an ear and eye out for anything off and well…

Javier Peña was off that afternoon.

However, she didn’t mention that.

She just promised she would and hung up, running her hands through her hair as she considered what to do next. As she tried to focus on her work, she pushed thoughts of Javier Peña from her mind. If she even began to think that Peña was the one leaking intel, then she would panic around him and she knew that was no good. It wouldn’t end well for anyone involved, especially if he wasn’t.

Another half an hour passed before Peña’s phone rang again. For the first few rings, she ignored it. It rang all the time –usually tips and intel, or Messina calling to scold him. Usually, it would stop and go to his voicemail. Tonight, however, it stopped then rang again. After the third time, she huffed in annoyance and stood, picking up the receiver. Before she could say anything, however, a voice that she’d only heard through captured recordings, hissed in her ear: Don Berna.

“I thought we were meeting for coffee, Peña?”

Immediately, she hung up the phone and stepped away, her eyes wide. Silently, she cursed to herself as she hurried back to her desk and grabbed her bag and satellite phone then rushed out the doors of the base. Maybe it was just a cartel guy who wanted to turn a new leaf. There wasn’t a reason to think that Peña was working with Berna or feeding him information. She couldn’t just assume the worst.

Okay, so that wasn’t true.

She always assumed the worst in Javier Peña. She had since the moment she met him, and she had continued even after he proved he wasn’t necessarily the worst. But she couldn’t assume that he was actually helping Los Pepes kill innocent people just to get to Escobar. There was just…there was no way.

“Answer your phone, you jackass,” she hissed into her satellite phone, listening to it ring a few times before being hung up on. She dialed it again, getting into her car with it pressed to her ear. “Javier Peña, I swear to God, I’m going to kill you myself –,”

“What the fuck do you want?” He answered, voice clipped and laced in anger.

“I think we need to meet,” she replied, and she wondered if he could hear the trembling in her voice. “For coffee.”

There was a silence that hung between the lines, static being the only sound that filled the cracks. She was shaking, her heart threatening to break through her ribcage as she waited for him to speak. To own up, or lie, or anything.

“Agent Peña,” she hissed, trying to get him to say something back to her.

“I’ll be at the café in ten minutes.”

“Is that the same one you fucking meet –,”

“Shut your damn mouth,” he snapped at her, hanging up the phone.

She stared at it blankly, taking a moment to calm her nerves before she threw it into the passenger seat and took off into town. Maybe it would have been better to walk, give her time to cool down and find a reason to justify why a cartel boss would be calling her, but she wanted a quick getaway if everything suddenly went south.

Not that she thought Peña would do anything to her –but she couldn’t be sure anymore.

She parked outside the café, sitting in her car for several minutes before she considered even getting out. What she should be doing is going back to the base, calling the ambassador, and telling him what she had learned. How could she be risking her goddamn job because of Javier fucking Peña? In what world did that make any sense, especially given how –

The passenger side of her car swung open abruptly, and a jolt of surprise shot through her body, causing her to let out a startled yelp. Instinctively, she pressed herself further into the door, her back firmly planted against it, as Peña climbed into the car. The sudden proximity between them made her acutely aware of his presence, and a mix of emotions washed over her like a tidal wave.

Her heart pounded in her chest, its rapid beats echoing in her ears, as she struggled to regain her composure. Wide-eyed, she stared at him, momentarily frozen by the intensity of the situation. The surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins made her briefly contemplate the idea of delivering a forceful blow to his face—a physical manifestation of the frustration and exasperation he had caused with his reckless actions.

As her mind raced, grappling with conflicting thoughts and emotions, his voice cut through the silence, jolting her back to reality.

"What did he say?" he demanded, his tone firm and unwavering.

She found herself gaping at him, caught off guard by the absence of denial in his response. The sheer audacity of his nonchalance left her momentarily speechless. A mix of anger and disbelief flickered in her eyes as she struggled to find her voice.

"You're not even going to deny it?" she managed to utter, her words laced with a blend of astonishment and accusation.

Peña met her gaze, his own eyes locking with hers, unflinching. "Why the fuck would I? You already know," he retorted, his voice tinged with frustration. "You're not an idiot."

His words struck a nerve, and she felt a surge of conflicting emotions within her—anger, disappointment, but also a lingering sense of understanding. But that understanding was being overtaken by the sheer anger she felt towards the agent. She watched as he briefly glanced out the back window, seemingly checking for any signs of surveillance, before returning his focus to her, leaning in closer.

"What did he say?" he repeated, this time his voice softer, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability amidst the tension that hung in the air.

Her initial impulse was to withhold the information, to maintain an element of control and power in this nightmare they were engaged in. But as she looked into his eyes, the walls she had built around herself began to crumble.

“He just…he said he thought you were meeting him for coffee,” she explained, looking up at him with a small frown and her brow furrowed.

Peña's eyes darted away, unable to meet her gaze directly. His usual confident demeanor wavered, revealing a hint of guilt that played across his features. A heavy silence filled the car, punctuated only by the sound of their collective breaths. She waited anxiously for his response, her heart pounding in her chest, hoping against hope that he would vehemently deny the accusation. But as the seconds stretched into an eternity, his admission hung in the air, weighted with a sense of betrayal.

A mix of disbelief and anguish washed over her, the realization hitting her like a brick through a window. Her voice trembled as she spoke again, her words laced with a mix of sorrow and desperation. "Peña...please, tell me it's not actually you that's leaking our intel to Los Pepes."

He sighed heavily, a mixture of regret and resignation etched on his face. "I wish I could say it's not true," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I've made some choices...choices that I thought were necessary, because things weren’t getting done.”

Her world seemed to crumble around her, the foundation of trust they had built eroded in an instant. A whirlwind of emotions raged within her—anger, hurt, and a profound sense of disappointment. She had trusted him, relied on him for months because she didn’t have a damn choice, actually managed to kind of like the bastard and now that trust lay shattered.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Javier?” She demanded, pushing herself upright, scrambling to hit him anywhere she could. She wasn’t necessarily the strongest, and truthfully didn’t really know how to throw a punch, but she was angry. And he deserved to be fucking hit.

And he let her.

He sat there, stoic and unmoving, his face a mask of acceptance. He made no attempt to dodge or defend himself, allowing her fists to rain down upon him. Her poorly trained punches landed on his arms, her fists colliding with his solid form, but he didn’t flinch or retaliate. His passive response only fueled her anger further.

The sound of her strikes echoed in the air, each smack a cathartic release of frustration and disappointment. Her fists became a conduit for her emotions, as if the physical pain she inflicted upon him could somehow alleviate the emotional pain within her. But with each blow, she realized the uselessness of her actions.

As her punches gradually weakened, exhaustion and sadness began to replace her initial rage. The weight of the situation pressed upon her, and she felt the heaviness in her limbs. Her fists gradually dropped to her sides, her trembling hands a reflection of the turbulent storm of emotions raging within her.

She looked at him, searching for any sign of remorse or explanation in his eyes. But his gaze offered no explanation; nothing that he was able to say to make her feel better. He knew what he did, and she knew he didn’t regret it.

Breathing heavily, she fell back into her door, the intensity of the moment hanging between them. The anger that had fueled her actions now subsided, leaving a void filled with a mixture of disappointment and a longing for answers. The silence between them seemed to stretch on, punctuated only by the heavy silence of unspoken words.

“Get out of my car, Javier.”

He swallowed hard, she could hear it, before he pushed her door open. As he turned to get out, he paused, looking back at her. She stared forward, gripping her steering wheel tight enough that her knuckles were white.

“I…,” he took a breath, looking down for a moment before he shook his head and got out. “Can’t believe it took this long for you to call me by my first name.”

She let out a watery laugh, trying to keep herself from crying. He stared at her for several moments, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead opting to start her car and wipe her eyes. For just a little while, she really thought maybe he wasn’t that bad. That Javier Peña was actually a decent person, who she was begrudgingly attracted to. She knew that he and Steve did things a bit against the rules; it was hard not to see it. But this was too far, even by that standard.

She took a deep breath, swallowing down her tears again. “I was so close to not hating you —,”

“If you’re gonna tell Crosby —,”

They spoke over each other, and both stopped as they waited for the other to finish.

“I’m not,” she finally said, before she could stop herself. But she still refused to look at him. “I…I’m not gonna tell him, Peña. Consider it the only favor I’ll ever do for you.”

He let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head as he finally got out of her car. The door slammed against the frame, and she watched from the corner of her eye as he walked around the front to her side of the car. Hesitating, she rolled the window down, finally meeting his gaze as he rested his hand on the roof, leaning down.

“Thank you, hermosa,” he murmured, voice low as he leaned into the car further. “And for what it’s worth —I’ve never hated you.”

Truthfully, she didn’t hate him either. Looking up at him from her seat, she had the sudden urge to pull him into a tight hug; tell him it was okay. That she understood why he did it.

But she’d be lying if she did. Because she didn’t understand; not really.

———

He was drunk.

No, that wasn't accurate.

He was shit-faced.

Javier stumbled through the dimly lit bar, his movements unsteady and his mind clouded by a swirling haze of alcohol. The weight of his actions bore down on him, threatening to suffocate him with a potent mix of guilt and self-loathing. Each step he took was a struggle, as if the weight of his choices had multiplied tenfold.

He had watched her drive away, leaving an empty void in his chest. The taillights of her car faded into the distance, a visual representation of the fracture he had caused in the barely there friendship they had in the first place. She wasn’t supposed to find out; no one was.

Driven by a mix of remorse and self-loathing, he turned on his heel and sought solace in the numbing embrace of a bottle of whiskey. The nearest bar became his sanctuary, a place where he could drown his sorrows and temporarily escape the consequences of his actions. He slumped onto a barstool, his weary eyes scanning the array of bottles lining the shelves.

As the minutes turned into hours, the world around him became distorted. The sounds of laughter and chatter blended into white noise that didn’t make any sense, and the faces of the patrons merged into indistinguishable shapes. His vision blurred, mirroring the fog that clouded his mind.

Javier's drunken stupor was a feeble attempt to escape the weight of his actions, to find temporary solace in a realm of blurred lines and diminished responsibility. But as the alcohol seeped into his veins, it only served to deepen his self-disgust. The numbness it brought was merely a hollow facade, concealing the pain and regret that gnawed at his core.

As the night wore on and the effects of alcohol began to really make him think shitty ideas were good ones. With the memory of her face —disappointed, angry, teary eyed —front and center in his mind, Javier made a decision.

He needed to see her, even if it meant facing the wrath of her anger and disappointment. It didn't matter that it was late in the night or that his thoughts were still muddled from the alcohol. He couldn't let her think he was this bad man, trying to fuck up everything they were working towards.

And he didn’t want her to hate him. Jesus fucking Christ, Javier didn’t want to go back to her snapping at him every time he spoke. Or glaring at him over her paperwork whenever he asked her questions. He liked whatever they had going on —flirting, banter, whatever it was.

Javier wanted it to keep happening.

Javier just wanted her, however she would take him. And by her reaction tonight, in her car, his whiskey-addled brain saw something that he hadn’t seen before.

Driven by a mix of determination and a glimmer of hope, Javier left the confines of the bar and stumbled through the dimly lit streets. Every step was unsteady, but his movements were fueled by a desperate need to find her and see her again.

Minutes felt like hours as he walked down the streets towards the apartments she lived in. The weight of his actions sat heavily on his shoulders, and while he didn’t regret what he was doing —he needed to at least apologize to her.

Finally, he arrived at her doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he knocked on the door. As he waited, he rehearsed the words he wanted to say to her, hoping that they sounded at least somewhat coherent.

There was shuffling from behind her door, and Javier glanced at his watch with a frown —realizing it was well past midnight.

“Shit.”

Panicking, and suddenly feeling far more sober than he was when he was making the walk there, he turned on his heel to walk away. His hands ran through his hair as he started cursing himself for being so fucking stupid.

As Javier turned to leave, his heart pounding in his chest, he heard her voice calling out to him, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly turned back, his eyes meeting hers. She clearly had been woken up by him, her hair braided but messy from sleep.

She stood in her doorway, arms crossed over her chest, in her pajamas. Just a thin tank top that revealed the curve of her shoulders and shorts that showcased her slender legs and a look of confusion and frustration on her pretty face.

Unable to tear his gaze away from her, Javier felt his resolve crumble. The urge to be close to her, to reach out and hold her, consumed him. He took a hesitant step towards her, his heart pounding in his chest. His voice was a mere whisper as he spoke, filled with a mixture of longing and guilt.

She stepped back, frowning. “Are you drunk?”

He stopped short, recognizing her concern. But he nodded slowly, swallowing hard as he did so. “Just, uh. Just a bit, yeah.”

“Go home, Javier.”

“I can’t, cariño,” he admitted, running his hands over his face then up through his hair. “I…I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

He considered his options –both, neither. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t leave (though he definitely couldn’t), but he knew why he wouldn’t.

They stood there in the dimly lit hallway, the weight of their complicated relationship hanging in the air. Javier struggled to find the right words, to express the turmoil churning within him. He was not accustomed to vulnerability, especially not with someone like her. They weren’t friends. They didn’t even like each other most days.

That wasn’t exactly true, though. In recent weeks, they had gotten on better than before. Closer, friendlier. He liked having that in his life, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“You hate me,” he finally managed to say, leaning against her door frame to look down at her. “And that’s fine. I deserve that.”

Her eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of something that he couldn’t pinpoint flashing over her face. She glanced down either end of the hallway, Javier following her movements, before she pushed her door open fully and motioned for him to come inside. There was clear hesitation on his end, standing stiff there for a moment as he considered what she wanted.

“If you can’t leave, Javier, then you need to come inside before I shut the door in your face.”

Decision made for him, he stepped through into the threshold of her apartment, breath stuck in his throat. As she stepped back into her apartment, shutting and locking the door, the atmosphere shifted from the tension-filled hallway to a space that bore the traces of familiarity and comfort.

He couldn’t help but look around her home –something he truthfully thought he’d never see, because let’s face it: she didn’t want him there. Even if they were friends.

The living area was tastefully decorated, and the walls were adorned with framed photographs capturing cherished memories and moments of laughter. In the corner, a small bookshelf stood on the opposite side of the couch, covered in various books and pieces of her that pulled it all together. The couch was the same couch as his –one provided by the embassy to ensure their agents and workers were at least somewhat comfortable. But throw pillows were stacked haphazardly on each end, with a blanket tossed back as if that was where she was asleep.

It must have been, because the bottle of open wine and empty wine glass sat on her coffee table. Javier stared at it blankly, considering the things he’d done to cause her to want to drink her problems away like he had that night.

She pushed him some, towards the couch, before she yanked the blanket into her arms and sat down. Javier hesitated again –where was the confidence he used to radiate when a woman let him into their home? He should feel cocksure and horny; the one unobtainable woman he’d been pining for since she arrived in Colombia was pushing him onto her couch while she barely wore clothing.

But that wasn’t why he was there. And that wasn’t what she was doing. He wasn’t there to seduce her, or fuck her. He was there to beg for her forgiveness; to have her be his fucking friend again.

"I don’t hate you,” she finally sighed, running her hands over her face. “Not anymore, I mean. I did, at least a couple months ago.”

“What changed that?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, looking down at his hands.

“You finished my notes for me. The ones for Martinez, when we first got set up at the base.”

He blinked a few times, trying to pull up the memory of doing that for her. She never asked him for anything; either out of spite or because she didn’t want to rely on him. But then he nodded some, huffing out a weak laugh as he did.

“You looked like you were going to fall asleep at your desk,” he explained, looking up at her finally. “I just…I felt bad; figured I’d give you a break.”

“That’s when I decided I didn’t actually hate you,” she admitted, pulling her knees up to her chest as she looked at him. “I don’t know if I liked you, per se –that took a little longer to accept; that I liked you. That I thought we were friends –but I didn’t dislike you. And I…still don’t hate you.”

Hearing that she thought they were friends made Javier’s heart absolutely ache. He met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and longing. It was in that moment that he realized his feelings ran deeper than he had ever admitted to himself. She looked at him as a friend, and Javier was suddenly realizing he wanted her more than that.

“Probably should.”

“I should,” she agreed, but then she shrugged some, taking a deep breath as she tried to fight back a yawn. “I don’t though. I’m just…I’m disappointed, Javier. Angry, because now I have to lie to the fucking ambassador of the United States. Risk my job. Pretend that I don’t know you’re actually a moron who makes shitty decisions.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” he told her, shaking his head. “You should be covering your own ass, not mine. I told Murphy the same thing –,”

“Good to know that Steve is also a fucking idiot –,”

“Listen to me,” he cut off, turning to face her properly, suddenly serious as he stared her down. “If anyone asks –if someone even so much as hints at you knowing whose working with Los Pepes –you fucking tell them the truth. Do you understand me?”

He watched her closely, his heart pounding in his chest as she contemplated his words. Her exhaustion was evident, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for adding to her burden. But he needed her to understand, to protect herself and let go of any association with him. He didn't deserve her loyalty, especially after what he had done.

“I’d be smart to walk away," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "It would be the right thing, the safe thing. Kick you out, call the embassy. But..." She paused, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper as she continued, "I care about you, for some stupid ass reason. So, maybe I won't tell anyone anything. Maybe I'll protect you."

Her response, however, caught him off guard. Her voice, tinged with weariness and vulnerability, carried a sense of tenderness that he didn't expect. He listened intently, his eyes locked on hers, as she admitted her conflicted feelings. Javier's breath hitched as she revealed her concern; how she felt about him. His heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude, disbelief, and a touch of apprehension. How could she still care after all of this? After everything he’d done to her, how he’d treated her, and what he was putting her through now?

He wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to thank her for her unexpected act of compassion. But a mix of emotions churned inside him, leaving him at a loss for words. Instead, he simply nodded, his throat tight with a gratitude that was choking him.

In that moment, he knew that her decision carried its own risks. He knew that he didn't deserve her protection or her care. But at the same time, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through his chest, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of what he was doing.

As they sat there, something shifted between the two. There was a thread –a thin, barely there thread that tied them together now. And in that fragile thread, Javier found some sort of comfort.

“I’m going to bed, Javier,” she sighed, standing up from the couch with a yawn. “You can stay here, if you want –on the couch.” The last part was added quickly, as if she wanted to make sure he knew she wasn’t offering up her bed to him in any way.

He shook his head though, standing up as well. She looked up at him, and Javier couldn’t help but notice just how close the two of them were suddenly. They stood just inches apart, tired eyes gazing at one another. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips, his heart pounding in his chest, but he looked away quickly.

“I appreciate it, but I should go,” Javier replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He tried to ignore the sudden urge of longing that coursed through him; ignore the desire to bridge the distance between them and pull her into his arms. But he couldn't act on those feelings, not now, not after everything.

She nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. He could tell she was wrestling with her own conflicting emotions, just as he was. They both knew the boundaries they had set, the unspoken rules that controlled their actions. As they stood there, their gazes locked, Javier's resolve wavered. He wanted to kiss her suddenly. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her lips. He wanted to lose himself in her.

He was about to pull away; leave her alone for the night so they could pretend nothing happened when they got to work later. But then he felt her hand gently cup his cheek. Her touch was soft, her eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and a longing of her own. In that moment, she was the one that tore down the boundaries she had put up.

Deciding that he couldn’t take it anymore —gravity was too much and he couldn’t escape the pull of her touch against his skin —he closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands as he pressed his mouth to hers. Months –he’d spent months wanting to kiss her to shut her up. Use the action to get her to be quiet, to stop scolding him. But now, she wasn’t yelling at him or arguing with him. She was pulling him into her touch, biting at his lip, returning the kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling herself closer as returned the kiss –biting his bottom lip as she responded with equal fervor. It was unexpected, her immediate response, but Javier wasn’t going to push her away now that he had what he wanted.

Tracing his tongue along the seam of her lip, he coaxed her lips open and licked into her mouth. A quiet whimper escaped her, and Javier swore he could feel it in his very bones as he pushed her back towards the couch again. One of his hands dropped to her hip, holding her against him tight, as the other tangled into her hair. She mimicked his motions, her hand finding its way down his chest to the exposed skin under his collar as the other tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck.

As he pushed her into the couch, refusing to break the kiss, she pulled him down on top of her. He rested on his knees, caging her beneath him as her fingers fumbled over the buttons of his shirt. His hands rested above her head, nipping at her bottom lip again while she finally pushed his shirt open and ran her nails down his chest. He hummed into the kiss, rolling his hips into hers involuntarily before finally breaking away to rest his forehead against hers.

They both breathed heavily, staring at each other with lust blown eyes. Her eyes darted from his face down, then back up at him and Javier wondered, momentarily, what she was thinking. Because all he could think about was slipping his hand under her shirt and feeling her skin against his.

“I can’t just be one of your hook ups,” she whispered, grabbing his wrist to stop him from moving further up. “I won’t be, Javier.”

He stared down at her, catching his breath as he slowly nodded. He understood the weight of her words, the depth of her desire for something more meaningful. He pulled his hand back, trailing his fingers over the skin of her stomach gently until his hand wasn’t under her shirt anymore. Instead, he rested it against the fabric of her top, looking down at her.

“You won’t be,” he assured her, his voice filled with a tenderness that surprised even him. “I…I haven’t — this won’t be —I’ve wanted for months….I want you, cariño.”

She searched his eyes, searching for any sign of deception or doubt, but all she found was a sincerity that mirrored her own. Wanting to find comfort in her touch again, Javier leaned in and pressed his lips to her chin –light, barely there. But enough to cause her to suck in a breath as if he had bit her. His hand slipped back under her stop, grasping at the hem of the thin fabric, so he could pull it up carefully. It was easily pulled over her head and tossed to the floor with his shirt –leaving them both bare from the waist up and pressed against one another.

Her hands, somehow impossibly soft, traced down his arms, nails barely grazing his skin. It was a careful gesture, but it was all he needed to continue. Taking to her wandering hands, Javier wrapped them back around his neck before his hands trailed down her sides until they settled at her waist. She sighed at the touch, tugging him closer to her as he gently clasped her waist, drawing her nearer, their bodies pressed together. His fingers pressed into her skin, no doubt leaving marks where his nails dug in. A gasp escaped her, mingling vulnerability with desire, as his tongue slipped into her mouth again.

Enthusiastically, she pulled him even closer, pressing her body against his like he had dreamed of so many times before. At any moment, he expected to awaken in his bed, painfully alone –painfully hard –left with nothing but fantasies of her consuming his mind. But the feeling of her biting his lip, of her hands fumbling with the button of his jeans reminded him that this was real. She was there, under him, touching him back just as desperately as he was touching her.

“Gonna take care of you, hermosa…,” he whispered, trailing kisses from her mouth down her jaw, to her throat. His hands deftly tugged at her shorts, trying to push them down her hips.

Her hips rose to meet his touch, helping him get rid of the last two pieces of her clothing that kept her from him. Once her shorts were tossed to the growing mess of clothes on her floor, his fingers trailed between her thighs, pressing just barely into her. Her head fell back into the arm of the couch as she whispered his name, as if trying to beg for more. He grinned into the skin of her throat before pressing a kiss there.

“Tell me what you want,” he continued, nipping at her collarbone as his other hand reached up to palm at her breast.

“Take off your pants,” she ordered –though she was breathless and arching into his touch.

Javier chuckled almost darkly into her skin, pinching her nipple as he squeezed her chest. Then he pulled back, sitting up above her. His eyes roamed over her figure hungrily, taking the chance to appreciate each curve of her body as he pushed his jeans and boxers off, kicking them to the side. Most of the women he slept with would try to cover themselves up under his gaze –turn red with sheepish grins. But she just rested her hand behind her head, meeting his eyes for a moment before taking in his naked self as well. Just as hungry for him as he was for her –it made his cock twitch.

“Still so bossy, even when I have you naked under me.”

“Someone needs to make sure you follow directions.”

Her laugh was airy and light, and Javier grinned down at her as he took his cock in his hand, stroking himself slowly. The way she practically glowed under him, radiating something he wanted to bask in forever, made him want her even more. His other hand slipped between her legs again, where he ran his fingers over her clit and through her wet folds. Her eyes closed in response, arching into the touch with a hum, and Javier savored how wet she was for him.

Javier adjusted, half kneeling between her legs and pressed wet kisses over her thighs as he spread her open before him. She gasped at the sensation, thighs instinctively closing around his head but Javier tsk’ed, pushing her legs open to continue peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of her thighs until his nose brushed just barely against her clit. Her reaction was to shoot her hands down and tangle her fingers in his hair, pleading with him to hurry up.

He made a satisfied noise, grinning into the skin of her thighs, before finally giving her what she wanted —what they both wanted —and started to lick and kiss at her clit as if it was the last meal he’d ever eat. She gasped, her legs jerking up only for her heels to rest on his back. The sounds she was making —begging, soft and breathless gasps —egged him on, involuntarily causing him to buck his hips into the couch to relieve his own ache.

“Fuck, Javi,” she moaned, arching up as his tongue delved deep into her core.

Her reaction only spurred him on, replacing his tongue inside her with a finger —then two, with ease. His tongue circled her clit as he pumped his fingers in and out, setting a steady pace as she clenched around him. She was tight, deliciously so, and the thought of her clenching around his cock was driving him wild.

“Come for me,” he whispered against her skin, pulling away from her clit just enough to admire her. Watching her chest heave from her ragged breathing, pretty face contorted by pleasure as his fingers continued to disappear in and out of her —she was close, he could feel it as she yanked his hair harder. “Come for me, hermosa.”

His mouth captured her clit one more time, his fingers curling just enough to hit the sensitive spot inside her. She cried out, squeezing his fingers with her pussy while trying to close her legs around him. But he didn’t let her, free hand holding her leg down as he nipped and licked at her clit, speeding up the thrusts of his fingers inside her.

She cried out suddenly, body trembling, as her orgasm washed over her. He slowed down, but didn’t remove his fingers from her, working her through her climax. She pushed him away from her clit, overstimulated and breathing heavily. He didn’t stay away long before he pulled his fingers from her and replaced them with his tongue once more, lapping up the juices that soaked her pussy.

“Javi,” she gasped, hands shaking as she pried him from between her legs.

She pulled him up by his chin, only able because he let her, and kissed him hungrily. This kiss was sloppier, all teeth and tongues, allowing her to taste herself. Javier groaned into her mouth, pulling himself back onto the couch properly, only to yank her by her hips into his lap. Straddling him now, she looked down at him with hazy, lust filled eyes as she grinded against cock.

He hummed, leaning his head back as his hands slid up her waist, gripping the flesh there tight and guiding her movements as he did so. Her hips rolled against him, coating him in the remnants of her climax, and the head of his cock caught against her clit, causing her to hiss in response. Javier grinned, unable to help himself, as his eyes opened to look up at her again. Releasing his grip on her waist, one hand reached up to the back of her head to bring their mouths together again. His other hand groped her chest, pinching and twisting at her nipples as he bit at her bottom lip.

“Javi, please,” she sighed, breaking the kiss just enough to breathe over his lips. She was reaching between their bodies now to grasp his hard cock in her hands. “I need you, Javi, I need –,”

“What do you need, cariño?” He teased, trying to keep his hips from bucking up into her. “Take what you want, baby. C’mon…”

She nodded frantically, rising up onto her knees above him. Javier’s gaze dropped to her hand around him, where she was guiding his cock into her soaked pussy. As she slowly eased him into her, one of her hands shot up to grip his arm, digging her nails into the skin to distract from the stretch. Javier’s head fell back again as she sunk down on him, his hands dropping to her ass just to hold something. Because if he didn’t –shit, he would lose any semblance of control he had.

Her grip on his arm tightened as their hips met again, sinking him entirely inside her as she tried to adjust to his size. Javier groaned as her walls clenched around him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up –causing her to cry out in surprise and lurch forward, her hands gripping the back of the couch. With her tits in his face, and his hands grasping her ass, Javier was done for –fuck control, he needed to ruin her.

Javier trails his fingers down her arms before wrapping them back around her hips, holding her tight against him as he pistons up into her. She hadn’t been expecting it, a surprised cry leaving her lips as he slapped her ass in the process of fucking her. He pulled her up, and she got the hint as she rose to meet his thrusts, bouncing on his cock to bring herself closer and closer to the edge.

“Been thinking about this since the first time you yelled at me.” He punctuated his last word with a hard thrust up that had the tip of his cock grazing a spot so deep inside her it made her drop her face into his neck, crying out his name.

“Fuck, Javi –you feel so good– Please, God– please, please–” Her words died in her throat when he yanked her down particularly hard, pressing her hips down to meet him and holding her there in slow, hard grind. She let out a choked sob of his name, pussy clenching hard around him and stealing a low moan from the back of his throat.

“Knew you fuckin’ liked me, princesa.”

She moaned again, and Javier jolted up some as he felt her tongue trailing over the vein in his neck and over his jaw. Her mouth was on his again, and he could feel her tightening around him as her wetness started to smear between their bodies. The sound of their skin slapping against skin only urged him forward, each thrust becoming messier and harder. It was almost too much when his one hand dipped between their bodies, fingers fluently toying with her clit.

Between the touch on her clit and the thrusts up into her, Javier could tell she was close and he’d be damned if he came before her. Kissing her harder –all tongue, and teeth, and spit –he sped up his thrusts in time with his fingers on her clit. She bit his lip for a moment before she gasped, closing her eyes tight as her body tensed up under him, only to spasm around him as she came. The only sound she made were airy gasps of his name, begging him to keep going. Javier wasn’t far behind as he thrusted up into her a few more times before his hips stuttered to a stop.

She dropped against him, breathing heavily as she slowly came down from her high. Javier’s hand dropped away from her clit, and while his grip on her hip loosened, he didn’t release her from his hold. Her forehead pressed against his neck, tucked just under his chin as she tried to catch her breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath himself, as he savored the moment of her skin against his, holding her close to his chest.

Eventually, however, she adjusted and pulled away from him –pulling his softened cock from her with a wince. He stayed there, however, looking over at her through half squinted eyes. She didn’t move far –having simply slid onto the couch to lean down and rifle through their clothes on the floor. When she came back up, she leaned back against the armrest of the couch, skin slick with sweat and glowing from their post-sex haze. In her one hand was a cigarette, that she lit with a lazy grin, before holding it out to him.

Javier watched her for a few moments before he took the cigarette and snuffed it out, pulling her back down the couch by her ankles. She yelped in surprise, but it devolved into a laugh as he leaned over her and grabbed her chin, kissing her lazily. Her arms wrapped around his neck, returning the kiss eagerly. When he pulled back, Javier melodramatically collapsed onto her, laying between her legs with his head on her chest. Her hand ran through his sweat-drenched curls.

“This doesn’t mean you get special treatment at work,” she murmured, and Javier could just hear the grin in her voice.

“Give me a few minutes to recover, and I bet I can change your mind,” he challenged, though he closed his eyes as she ran her hand through his hair.

“You can try to change my mind by staying, and taking me out tonight,” she countered, and Javier chuckled into her skin, nodding.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena fic #javier pena smut #javier pena narcos #narcos #narcos fic

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daphnefisherofficial · 7 months

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bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

CHAPTER FIVE

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Avatar Fem!Reader

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CHAPTER FIVE - TIES AND STRINGS THAT BIND.

The late afternoon sun painted long shadows across the cityscape, casting an amber glow over the bustling streets of London. After his peculiar encounter with the enigmatic Mira Batala-Carter, Marc Spector finally returned to his apartment located just a bus ride away from Trafalgar Square. He staggered into the dimly lit unit marked 502 on the fifth floor, his footsteps echoing in the silence of their cozy living space. The long flight had left him weary, jetlag gnawing at his bones from all the excitement that unfolded.

Marc let out a deep sigh as he glanced over at Steven Grant’s reflection looking at him from the nearby mirror.

"You've had enough of the spotlight for one day, huh?" Marc’s alter grinned, his arms folded as he watched his head mate push the luggage beside their wooden cabinet with his right foot, not even bothering to unpack.

"Yeah, I need a break”, Marc chuckled weakly, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him. “You go ahead and be the life of the party"

Immediately surrendering control, Steven took the reins as he was already bustling around the apartment, completely at ease. Ignoring the chaotic mess that is his study and bedroom, he deposited his duffle bag on the couch.

Wait until Mira sees this mess of an apartment, Marc piped into their headspace once more. You should send her a picture.

Steven flipped a bird at Marc’s direction in the mirror reflection, which was uncharacteristic of his British upbringing yet his teasing reaction was expected. Shrugging off his charcoal-gray suit with slow, deliberate movements, he changed into a crisp white t-shirt before slipping into a pair of dark pants. His stomach then growled in mild hunger, prompting him to pad into the kitchen for a light meal, selecting a bowl for what would soon become a delightful reprieve from the day's fatigue.

Vegan cereal filled the ceramic vessel, and he poured fresh almond milk over the golden clusters, watching them slowly soften as they embraced the creamy liquid. It was simple, yet comforting, and he savored every spoonful. But it wasn't long before Steven’s thoughts wandered to the sweet delicacies Mira had generously shared with him and Marc back at the airport. Her exciting recommendation weighed on his mind, and curiosity got the better of him.

He retrieved the ziplock bag of treats from their duffle bag and perused the contents, the vibrant colors and exotic flavors beckoning him. With a grin, he decided to involve Marc in the tasting adventure.

“What do you reckon we should try first?” Steven spoke excitedly as Marc's eyes widened from his silver spoon reflection.

“You’re vegan, right?”, Marc replied as he surveyed the array of options before them. “I think you should go for the dried mangoes first”

Steven, ever conscious of his vegan lifestyle, appreciated that Marc’s particular choice aligned with his dietary preferences. With eager anticipation, he plucked a slice and bit into the chewy fruit. The taste sensation was an unexpected revelation. The dried mangoes burst forth with a symphony of flavors—sweet, tangy, and slightly chewy. Steven's eyes widened, and he exchanged an amazed glance with Marc. It was as if a tropical paradise had been captured in a single, delectable bite. The decadence of this newfound treat made their eyes twinkle with delight, and they couldn't resist reaching for more, savoring the afternoon's unexpected adventure into the world of exotic flavors.

Like night and day, the two of them had developed a remarkable understanding over the past few weeks, unlike the first few months when they were still sharing lives apart from each other. Marc’s life was a whirlwind of chaos and unpredictability, and every time he thought he had found some semblance of stability, it slipped through his fingers like sand.

Steven, on the other hand, was the steady anchor in Marc's turbulent life. He was the one who managed the day-to-day affairs, kept their finances in check, and ensured that Marc didn't do anything too reckless. He was also the one who helped Marc cope with his dissociative identity disorder, a condition that had plagued them both for years.

After finishing the bowl of cereal and putting it away in the dishwasher, the full force of jet lag clung to them like a heavy shroud. Without further ado, Steven (and Marc) finally retired to their bedroom, taking the former’s previous precautions of taping their door, spreading sand around their bed and tying their foot to the wall post to prevent sleepwalking. Against their will, it had become a shared routine born of necessity.

Marc and Steven knew that they weren’t alone in the body. Their last battle as Moon Knight in the streets of Cairo cemented that fact as the unknown third alter made his unexpected appearance. While the two of them and Layla were on the doors of death at the hands of Arthur Harrow’s newfound power, the mysterious entity acted on his role as the body’s protector and saved them all from a sure demise.

You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you? Marc spoke gently in Steven’s head as the latter finally collapsed into their bed.

“Can’t help it”, Steven sighed, remembering the night Khonshu freed them from their servitude to the moon god. “It would’ve been nice if we knew who really saved us that night”

I’m not really sure if I would want to know. Marc murmured, slowly blinking his eyes closed as he and Steven slowly succumbed to their well deserved respite. Determined to not think too much about the events of the past month, their shared consciousness slowly drifted to their encounter with Mira Batala-Carter instead. They collectively recalled her with fondness - her graceful presence, her captivating beauty, the way she had intrigued them both – these thoughts brought a soft, endearing smile to their faces, even as sleep began to claim them.

The next morning, however, would bring a new twist to the tale. Marc awoke to the soft chime of his phone. He reached over to his bedside table and groggily picked up his phone, flipping it open and squinting at the bright screen. It was a text message from Layla, his ex-wife.

I’m back in Cairo. Hope you got home safe.

His mood immediately sombered, his emotions shifting as though he'd been doused in cold water. It had only been a day after his divorce was finalized for Christ’s sake, and the idea of entering another relationship shouldn't even begin to cross his mind. Yet the high walls he built within himself were effortlessly brought down by Mira - the very woman who he recently met on the plane from last night and shouldn’t even be the sole, primary occupant of his head.

Marc, what's wrong? Steven called out in their headspace, sensing Marc’s ongoing turmoil. He was briefly puzzled on why Mira was currently on the forefront of their shared thoughts, until his eyes finally caught Layla’s latest correspondence on their phone. Ever the perceptive one, Steven started to piece together his alter’s current dilemma.

You know, Marc, sometimes we can't help how we feel. Steven spoke softly, ever empathetic as he offered his counsel. It's okay to be drawn to someone. You don't have to beat yourself up about it.

"It shouldn’t even happen in the first place”, Marc ran a hand through his disheveled hair and sighed. “Our mind’s all over the place already. I don’t need to drag her into our collective shit”

I mean, you don't have to dive headfirst into anything. Steven’s voice was calm and understanding. You can take your time, get to know her as a friend first. If it's meant to be, it'll happen naturally.

“No, Steven”, Marc softly shook his head, cursing himself for falling so easily for Mira's charms. He couldn't help it; her beauty and intelligence were truly captivating. "I need to keep my distance. Hell, I should be better than this”

I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Steven nodded, his eyes filled with empathy. You deserve happiness and companionship just like anyone else.

“I don't need that”, Marc shook his head, his frustration evident. "I need to get our life together, and I can't afford to get involved with someone right now, especially with our current circumstances"

Steven nodded in understanding, although wishing that Marc would have a different perspective. He knew that Marc's fear of being rejected due to his condition was a powerful motivator for his self-imposed emotional distance.

We'll take it one step at a time, lad. Steven continued to reassure. Just remember that you don't have to go through this alone, I’m here for you.

But Marc’s resolved hardened, very determined to protect his fragile heart. He couldn't afford to get too close to anyone and let his guard down. Keeping his new acquaintance, Mira, at arm's length is becoming an evident solution to his problem. Friendship would be the only connection he will allow to develop between them, no matter how much his heart might yearn for more.

That morning, Steven took the reins of their shared life to hopefully keep Marc’s stormy thoughts at bay. He started to go about his normal routine, dutifully feeding their pet goldfishes, Gus II and Fig. Settling down before the office desk, he opened his laptop and started to work on his CV. He started updating the details regarding his work experience and past education, and the possibility of securing the tour guide position that Mira potentially offered for the British Museum was becoming too enticing of an opportunity to pass up.

As Steven typed away, he couldn't help but think about Mira. Her passion for her work and her kindness had left a quite deep impression on both him and Marc, and the prospect of working closely with her was both exciting and intimidating. He knew he had to be at his best to secure the job, so he plans to put his best foot forward.

After a few revisions, Steven finally keyed in Mira’s email address from the calling card she gave to Marc and clicked send to his composed email introduction. He can only hope that this upcoming job opportunity would allow him to see you more often and get to know you better.

Meanwhile in a bustling corner of London, you were deeply absorbed in your role as the curator of the British Museum. The burst of caffeine energy you received from your morning coffee was deeply focused on receiving and cataloging the latest shipment of Egyptian artifacts and relics, which was a crucial addition to the upcoming Ennead exhibit scheduled to open next week.

Your passion for your work was evident in the way you handled each artifact with care, your fingers tracing the intricate details of ancient history. You couldn't wait to share them with the world.

Most of the artifacts for the Ennead exhibit had been recovered by the Scarlet Scarab - a mysterious figure known to the people of Egypt and the antiquities community. Albeit anonymously, you had received emails from the enigmatic vigilante, explaining that it was her way of returning "stolen goods" to their rightful owners and ensuring they were used for the benefit of the community. It was a curious and unexpected turn of events, but one that filled you with gratitude.

Taking a brief break, you leaned back in your office chair and let your thoughts wander. The museum had always been your sanctuary, a place where you felt most connected to the past. But lately, it seemed that your world was expanding to include new acquaintances like Marc Spector and Steven Grant.

Your laptop chimed with a new email notification, pulling you out of your reverie. With a curious smile, you opened the email and the sender's name immediately caught your attention.

Subject: Application for Museum Tour Guide Position - Ennead Exhibition

Dear Mira,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to express my keen interest in the Museum Tour Guide position for the upcoming Ennead exhibition at the British Museum. As a passionate advocate for Egyptian culture and history, I am excited about the opportunity to contribute to the visitor experience and help bring this extraordinary exhibition to life.

I’ve worked previously with the National Art Gallery, where I have developed a deep appreciation for the cultural significance and historical context of artifacts. I am confident that my ability to communicate complex ideas in an accessible and engaging manner, combined with my enthusiasm for the subject matter, makes me a strong candidate for this role.

Please find my attached CV providing more details about my qualifications and experience. I look forward to meeting you this Saturday to discuss the job opportunity further. If you could kindly disclose the dress code for that occasion, I highly appreciate it.

Thank you for considering my application.

Sincerely,

Steven Grant

You promptly composed a response, a smile tugging at your lips as your fingers danced across the keyboard. As you hit send, a flutter of anticipation you haven’t experienced in a long time coursed through you.

Subject: Application for Museum Tour Guide Position - Ennead Exhibition

Hello Steven,

I’m delighted to receive your application. Please come to the British Museum after lunch at 1PM for the museum tour guide interview. The dress code for this occasion is business smart-casual.

I look forward to meeting you this Saturday.

Sincerely,

Mira Batala-Carter

The days passed quickly, and Saturday finally arrived with a sense of anticipation. As the curator, you were tasked with welcoming the final batch of tour guide applicants. You stood in the grand entrance hall of the British Museum, where a diverse group of eager tour guide aspirants began to gather before you, their eyes filled with anticipation and enthusiasm.

They all had a common dream – to become a tour guide at one of the most prestigious museums in the world.

You had meticulously prepared for a mini-program before you got into the actual process of the job interviews, where you would briefly introduce yourself and explain the application process to the attendees.

“May I have everyone’s attention, please?” you politely called out to everyone in the vicinity. “We will start the program in about ten minutes. Thank you all for your patience”

You ended with a quick smile, walking away briefly towards the double door entrance on your way out to the nearest cafe to grab some much needed caffeine. But before you could even take the next step, a strong body unwittingly collided against your own, prompting you and the culprit to fall down together on the cement stairway.

“Oh, bugger! I am so sorry”, a soft, British accent greeted your ears before muttering under his breath. “I’m such a plonker, I should’ve looked where I was going”

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it”, you said breathlessly, brushing off dust from your beige pencil skirt as you felt muscular arms slowly hoisting you up. A shock of unruly dark hair greeted your vision, with but a few curly strands framed carefully over his forehead. Your eyes trailed down to finally meet his familiar striking brown eyes surrounded by a subtle network of laugh lines.

“Marc?” you gasped at the eerily familiar man before you, his shoulders hunched low as his own eyes widened in recognition.

“Not him, sorry”, his British speaking voice startled you once more as he spoke, and you were definitely puzzled by the way he’s carried himself right now. “Although, he has told me a great deal about you”

Your eyes then flickered with recognition, as if two puzzle pieces were finally solved together. The resemblance between him and Marc Spector is quite uncanny, as if they were just one and the same person.

“Steven Grant?” you muttered, prompting the man before you to let out an apologetic smile, looking slightly disheveled in comparison to his twin brother.

“Spelled with a V, yes. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mira”.

END OF CHAPTER FIVE.

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cloveroctobers · 2 years

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RIO/MANNY x black! Reader | October Prompts!

A/N: andddd we’re back! Back at it again with some spooky content for you. We love writing for Rio/Manny so I thought why not? Also threw another handsome man into the mix…so we’ll see how this works out! Shall we?

Prompt: #2. “Trust no one tonight.” + #4. “The house is not haunted.”

Synopsis: Rio/Manny warns you to be careful tonight and suddenly the house feels a lot bigger and creepier without him there. So you invite over a new friend you made to mainly keep you company but to show them that your mind is not playing tricks on you.

⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣

“Trust no one tonight,” Manny’s voice tells you as you’re standing in the kitchen, hand deep into a chip bag.

Instantly a frown appeared on your face, “and what do you mean by that, Manny?”

It was mostly silent on his side of the line until you heard the acceleration of his engine before he basically ignored you, “where’s my girl?”

“You’re talking to her.”

Manny chuckled on the other line, “oh so you love me again?”

You scowled putting the phone on speaker and tossing it onto the island. It’s been five months since you brought up the idea of separation but not a divorce. Manny was your husband of eight years but the danger of his lifestyle started to become unsettling to you. Of course you were loyal, he could never say you weren’t but having him brush off the fact that he was almost burned alive scared you. He had to come clean to his Mayan Charter, that he was part of something much bigger than they knew.

Which brought on higher demands and not seeing him at all. The two of you shared a four year old and if you had to raise her yourself, you would. You preferred not to but Manny made that hard and he didn’t like you questioning him. He just expected you to, “trust the process.” He would do anything for the both of you, the two of you were his entire world and he was involved in a lifestyle that could hand him his death sentence any day. He was down for the cause and providing for his family was his number one goal.

“I never stopped loving you,” you sighed, “don’t get on my nerves Manny. What’s up?”

Manny answered, “ez’s supply got burned to a crisp so he came to myself and Mick to make a trip over the border. Let’s just say, shit went left over there and you know I don’t flee from much.”

This was true and frustrating. You didn’t need to know every detail of your man’s business but just the basics. Things like this? You needed to know. When Manny provided vague sentences and started questioning about your daughter’s whereabouts and whenever he mentioned those fucking Reyes brothers—you had questions.

Manny knew how to be strategic so if anything took a turn, he was quick on his feet to handle it. That you knew. The secret was out that Manny had his own connections and could supply what was needed. Miguel Galindo was hiding in the shadows so someone had to take over but that was not how Manny originally wanted to play it. So you left the raised ranch in Santo padre to a mid-century home out in Palm Springs, away from everyone and almost everything.

“Which is why I’m asking, where’s Maeve?”

“She’s with her aunt and uncle for the weekend remember?” You replied, “they wanted to take her and the twins to the theme park with those tickets you gave them for their birthday.”

Your younger siblings were roommates in a shared town home out in San Diego and often took Maeve to spend time with your brother’s kids. You had plans to enroll Maeve into a private school next year but would strongly consider homeschooling if Manny’s profession got significantly worse.

“Mmm, I’ll get mick on that.”

Widening your eyes you said, “damn, that bad huh?”

“Yeah, kinda. Don’t worry about it too much, mama.” Manny answered, “I’m on my way back but I don’t recommend leaving the house once nightfall comes through. Shut everything down the minute the sunsets you hear me?”

Puffing out a breath you scowled, “what if I had plans now that Maeve is with my sibs?”

“That’s cancelled, I thought that was obvious.” He chuckled.

Your eyes were rolling. It’s not like you did have plans exactly this weekend, it was supposed to be a chill one but the fact of the matter is: you could have had plans and things often have to be rearranged due to Manny’s surroundings.

“Mama?” He pressed.

“Yes. I know. Operation lockdown by 6pm until otherwise stated.”

“Trust no one.”

You repeated, “And trust no one.”

“Aight.”

Just like that you were off the phone with a long sigh and a childish stomp of your feet. Everything from this point on was a routine: checking the time, checking the fridge for leftovers, putting some tunes on by voice command, and ran your bath water as you stripped, sitting in your bra and panties while you scrolled Twitter.

A gush of warm-like air brushed against your kitchen, almost as if someone was breathing right behind you as you sat on your bed. You whipped around, eyes scanning the ceiling in search of the placement of the vent. Yes the central heat turned on minutes after you got off the phone with Manny. That was the reason why you decided to take a bath, turning it up slightly just to keep it warm while you bathed.

Most of the vents in the bedrooms were only on the floor and not the ceiling. Rubbing at the spot, you pushed off the bed to quickly enter the bathroom with a lock of the door. Settling into the bubble bath, you plucked the flute glass off the wooden tray and enjoyed your personal time to yourself. The worry of tonight went to the back of your mind as you dozed off for some time.

A quick yank by the tips of your exposed feet had you underwater. The gasping for air made you choke, hands gripping the sides of the tub while you felt pressure on your chest, holding you down. This couldn’t be a simple mistake of dozing off? Not when it felt like something cold and solid was keeping you in place between your breasts?!

Your lungs were burning for air until you were able to feel in control of your body again. Popping out of the water, you choked lounging onto the side of the tub, cheek and ankle resting along the cool edge. Coughing you quickly wiped the bubbles off your face, glancing down at your toes to see your big toe nail appeared to be bleeding along with a dark purple ring circling your ankle.

Once you gained the strength to pull yourself out onto the tile floor you fought to gain your breath back. A towel was eventually wrapped tightly around your body, water drained, gauze secured around your toe; with your phone pressed against your ear.

Manny now had ten missed calls.

Cautiously you found some clothes to throw on, leg bouncing as you sat on your bed. You locked yourself in the bathroom but didn’t feel safe there and now you were back in the bedroom and you didn’t a hundred percent feel safe there either.

That’s when you felt it again. Warm breath against the back of your neck followed by a sinister whisper, “Malachi.”

If you ever seen Tom and Jerry? You were Tom shooting up from your bed after that. Fumbling with the door knob, you did not look behind you as you hobbled down the hallway ordering your phone to call someone else instead.

Twenty minutes later you flung the front door open, revealing a new friend you made three months ago downtown named: Max Parish. The buzz haired man stared down at you as your eyes held complete fear in them.

“What’re you still doing in the house?” Max huffed as he took in the sight of you, barely dressed.

“I can’t exactly leave.”

Max sucked his teeth now stepping into the house, “Manny would just have to understand the circumstances especially if you said someone’s in the house.”

“I’m better off taking my chances here than whatever he’s got himself messed up in out there.” You argued.

Max eyed the house. This was his first time being over at your new upgrade and it didn’t feel like something you’d pick really. In your mind, you always felt like you were being watched here. It never felt like home, not like Detroit.

“The hell am I doing?” Max muttered to himself, “go wait in the car.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m gonna scope the house out.” He raised his jacket, showing his piece tucked in his waist band, “make sure they get the message.”

Given Manny’s lifestyle outside of his family, of course he kept a gun in the house just in case. The sight of the gun attached to Max’s body wasn’t foreign to you yet you still found yourself taking a sharp inhale. You knew how to fire a gun and had a solid hand but unfortunately you did not have the pleasure of liking them. It made you uncomfortable to know that there was one in this house especially when Maeve was around. You were waiting any second for the feds to come searching the house, (you just had to think of the worse if it ever happened, something manny got on you about) although manny didn’t have anything to hide here.

“It’s not—it’s not a person.” You mumbled out as Max started moving.

He stopped in his tracks, “you said—

“I know what I said,” you exasperated, “there’s something in this house, Max.”

A small smile played on Max’s lips then, “something?” He echoed, “like what?”

“The fucking devil! I don’t know! All i know is, one minute I’m minding my black ass business and the next, I’m being drowned in the tub and someone’s screaming in my got damn ear.” You explained to Max who rubbed at his beard.

His laugh was full of disbelief as he shook his head. “I thought you said it was something not someone.” He teased.

“I’m not making this shit up! I’m really freaked out and I would handle it myself but you’re the closest thing I got when manny’s not answering his phone!” You attempted to pace in the entry way and that’s when Max took in your full appearance.

He missed the bandage around your foot and your coils were dripping down your oversized tee. The friendship between you and Max was not instant, you met at a cafe—which sure was cliché but you payed for his drink just for him to chase you and scold you about it on your way to your cosmetology course—which so happened to be in the same building as Max’s cooking course.

It was war from that point because there maybe some things that made you uncomfortable but you did not take well to someone talking to you crazy. Being yelled at was a trigger for you and you didn’t need some 6’5 man yelling at you for being kind. Max ended up apologizing to you the week after at the next class meeting, telling you that he was simply having a bad day since it was the anniversary of his fiancée’s passing. Again that had nothing to do with you, he acknowledged that and soon ended up buying your beverage every Thursday before class.

Somehow you built a friendship around that. When either of you called the other, most of the time you were jumping to each other’s aide but not without some shit talking first on the side.

“Wait,” Max ran a hand over his buzzed head, “you said manny wasn’t picking up his phone?”

“Yeah.”

“And did you talk to him before that?”

“Yes. He told me…not to trust anyone.” Your eyes were wide, “Oh my god, get out!” You ordered.

Max raised his brows as you began shoving him backwards but he barely budged. He gripped your hands trying to get you to calm down, figuring whatever manny put into your head before these events probably increased your paranoia. From what max learned about your relationship with manny, he personally didn’t care much for him although he’s never met him, Max just felt like Manny didn’t have his priorities straight when it came to you or his child.

He kept that to himself though.

Once Max got a hold of your face, he turned your head to the side by your jaw, catching the red liquid that slid out the side of your ear.

Okay…that was concerning.

“Whatever you’re thinking had nothing to do with me. I promise,” Max gently spoke, “but could it be manny playing a trick on you?”

“No.” You shook your head, “why would he do that?”

“I don’t know.” Max lifted his shoulders, eyes glancing around this Brady bunch ass house, “you tell me.”

“He’s coming back from Mexico tonight…i assume with the Yuma and Santo Padre charter. I don’t know who stayed back but he knows I don’t care to have them around me—even if it’s for his idea of protection. The only one I trust is Mick and Manny said he was sending him off to Maeve…but why isn’t he answering his phone?” You thought out-loud.

Max hummed as he let go of your face, surveying the house once more. It was quiet, much like you would expect a home in the desert with a Mountain View to be. Perhaps it was a figment of your imagination after Manny caused you to be on alert? Majority of the time you were a homebody, if you weren’t with your daughter you’d invite a friend or two over but most of the time you were alone and without your husband.

“Maybe…”

Your eyes were in slits as you peered at your friend.

“The house is not haunted.” Max stated, “your husband set your anxiety off…if he’s not lurking in the basement or something.”

Crossing your arms you still felt upset, “I don’t think we have a basement and I didn’t do this to myself.”

Max was no therapist and it’s not like he thought you needed one or anything! It’s just it’s always a possibility when you have a lot going on in your life right? He didn’t want to say anything to make you feel worse so he inhaled.

“Okay then, shut the door. Let me check for you.” Max instructed as you swallowed the lump in your throat, first checking the time on your phone and slamming the door shut.

The man lifted a brow as you walked by him to the hallway. Slowly he followed you to see you reaching for the side of what appeared to be a abstract painting, which slid to the side at your touch. Max was in awe as the wall proceeded with the same movement, revealing a panel behind it. Your fingers flew over the monitor, punching in some numbers before you pulled the switch into a downwards position.

‘Lockdown activated.’ Flashed in bright text before the clinging of metal followed.

Max’s head turned towards the front, noticing the windows becoming dark followed by the front door clinking with more locks.

“This manny’s work too?”

“Anything for his family.” You were quiet now as you went into the kitchen before calling out, “audio off.”

Which cut off some The Mamas and The Papa’s song he was sure his red headed aunt listened to when she was growing up. Max didn’t pick up on the music playing until he realized how dejected you appeared.

“Anything for his family? Yet he’s not answering your calls? Eh, I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right here.”

“Max,” you started pinching the space in between your brows, “the first thing I would want him to do is go to our daughter. If I’m in trouble, I’d figure it out.”

“He’s got you trained then.” Max sarcastically said, “yet I’m here and he’s not.”

Glared you hissed, “maybe I want the spirits to get your ass first just to give me enough time to get out here, did you ever think about that?”

“So a set up is it?” Max was smug, “you just put us in lockdown which means no one in and no one out. Sounds like you just killed us both dont you think?”

“I’m…really starting to hate men who’s names start with the letter ‘m.’”

“Aw, thank you, babe.” Max placed his hand on his chest mockingly while you fanned your hand at him.

Leaning against the island, you rocked back and forth slightly looking around. “You really don’t think this place is haunted?”

“I’ve seen a lot in my life but there’s only one way to find out.” Max declared, “I’ll check the place out now…since I don’t really have a choice now that you locked me in here with you. Thanks for the option by the way.”

“Oh, You’re welcome sweetie.” You gave a small smile.

Max scoffed with a shake of his head, “don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Well…it was fun while it lasted.”

“Max!”

“I’m kidding! Just relax, finish your merlot…better yet, don’t.” Max had his eyes elsewhere as he slowly began to creep around the house and out of your sight.

Once max was gone you stared at the bottle, gripping it, taking a sip before you shoved it into the fridge with a sigh.

The house still didn’t feel as comforting even with max being here with you. Not only did it not feel like home but it always felt eerie, too long and separate from what a house should be. You didn’t get a say when Manny just uplifted you and Maeve to this house. Marriage was supposed to be about a partnership yet most of the time you felt like it was you on your own.

Everything felt like it was always on his terms and in a sense it made you think of “Rio” more than anything. Christopher changed his name and his image once he decided California would be your next move. You didn’t mind the move much since that meant being closer to your siblings…however there was a contrast to this ordeal; not just in the exterior of your relationship but also what should have felt like the inside of a home was anything but.

He was supposed to be that.

Which is why you brought up separation. To test Manny, to see if he rather work on this marriage or continue diving into his job. You were understanding for years! His life was constantly on the line and you were stuck always watching from the sidelines. He could never leave this life, it’s been this way since he was a teenager. Since you learned about his previous relationship, the one that mattered, before you.

You gotta go where you wanna go

Do what you wanna do

With whoever you wanna do it with

The distortion of the previous track began to play throughout the house, making you sit up straight at the bar stool.

“The hell? Audio off.” You called out just for the track to continue on with its chopped and screwed version.

Babe, you gotta go where you wanna go

Do what you wanna do

With whoever you wanna do it with

“Isla?” Max called out to you, making you snap your head to look at Max being led into the kitchen by a gun.

Hoping off the chair you winced at the pressure and gripped the island for support, “Manny?! What’re you doing?”

“I thought I made it pretty clear not to trust nobody tonight, mama.” Manny’s smooth voice was leveled as he looked at you, “Just to my surprise, you have some dude who prolly goes to Coachella to sniff coke off some girl’s asscrack, up in our house.”

Max gave the 6’1 man the side eye, “that’s very specific and judgmental of you.”

“I advise you to stop trying to talk to me before I split your shit forward.”

Max widened his eyes at you, wondering when you were going to step in. He could definitely say he personally wasn’t a fan of your husband after this.

“Okay none of that!” You yelled over the music.

Manny glanced around and it was his voice this time to say, “audio off.”

Which shut the music completely off.

Now ain’t that some shit?

“Manny…you better start talking.”

Manny grinned at you but it was anything but sweet. He nodded his head at you, “you want to start making demands when I’m just trying to have your best interest at heart tonight? What about mine? Who the fuck is this?”

“Max is my friend.” You blinked, “are you seriously threatening his life in front of me now to prove what exactly? Never mind that, let’s discuss why you didn’t answer your damn phone when I needed you huh?!”

Manny licked his lips, “I got caught up, my phone was acting up the second I got back in town like I knew it would. I got here as fast as I could…so mind telling me what’s going on?”

“That sounds like bullshit, honestly.” Max commented just for Manny to take the butt of the gun and jam it at the back of Max’s skull.

You yelped as Max dropped to his knees, groaning as he did so. Your eyes were wide as Manny smirked to himself, surveying the larger man on his kitchen floor.

“I don’t think I asked for your opinion, Coachella.”

Shaking your head you stepped forward to check on your friend but the look Manny sent you made you pause. “Max, you okay?” You asked, eyes still set on your husband who crossed his arms.

Max continued groaning, “I’ve dealt with worse. Just give me a second.”

“Ooo,” Manny nodded his head impressed, “Coachella’s got bravery which is the only explanation I can think of to why you’re entertaining him behind my back.”

Scoffing you looked away in incredulity and held up your hands. “First I thought it was me losing my sanity here but I’m convinced it’s your stupid ass!”

“Want to run that by me again, mama?” Manny stepped over Max who now laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, dazed.

You also stepped to Manny, making your heated eyes meet his. Toe to toe you said, “I didn’t fucking stutter. Separation does not mean I suddenly went screwing other men, making you sleep in the other room does not mean I’m screwing other men. I wouldn’t do that to us. let me make this clear and final to you, I’m not screwing Max. I’m allowed to have male friends.”

“I don’t have female friends because I respect this marriage too much. I expect you to do the same…I know how jealous it makes you to see me with another so I don’t.” Manny shrugged his shoulders as if he was doing you a damn favor.

“Jealous?! Uh, no.” You pointed at him almost laughing in his face, “you don’t get to stand here and insult me. You certainly do and the difference is I trust you! I trust you to put them in their place if they ever take it there.”

“I have colleagues that are women, doesn’t exactly make them my friends.” Manny informed you, slits in his eyes while you just closed your own with a slow shake of your head.

Manny even went as far to curl a finger around one of your damp coils. He studied your face while you tried to get your thoughts together. He loved when you said your peace because that let him know you had a mind of your own, even if it pissed him off a good percentage of the time. It wasn’t about who was right or wrong, it was about who had the last word and who stood by it.

Take that how you will.

“Guys,” Max had been moaning for quite some time, almost missable as you pressed your forehead against Manny’s chin.

“What’s going on in the pretty head of yours, Hm? What happened?” Manny lightly caressed the back of your neck, squeezing and massaging the tension there.

That’s when your eyes met his again, “you need to be honest and tell me what else you’re hiding?”

He frowned.

“GUYS!” Max yelled just as his own body was lifted into the air by his feet and flung over their heads into the hallway.

Both you and Manny watched in horror as the man’s body left a dent in the wall before he fell into unconsciousness. The lights began to automatically flicker on and off along with the music playing again. Protectively Manny gripped your shoulders bringing you into his frame, pointing the glock into the air—not seeing anything to shoot at.

“We have to get to the basement.” Manny suggested.

“What? We have a basement?”

“It’s the safest for us.” He spun you by the hips, hand slipping down your arm to tighten his hand against yours and leading you through the house.

“Max,” you whispered, “we can’t just leave him.”

“Yes we can,” Manny almost smacked his lips, “as long as he’s out, she won’t get him.”

“She?!”

“C’mon, Isla.” Manny pulled on your arm as he led you towards the bedrooms, “or do you want her playing tennis with your body like she did max?”

Well that wasn’t funny. At least not now.

Cautiously you decided to look over your shoulder, seeing Max’s limb peeking out from behind the wall. And what did you do that for? You saw her dressed as if she was from a different decade standing over Max’s body. A gray hand pressed onto the side of the wall, long sickly fingers and black sharp nails. Her face appeared around the wall, peeking right at you, what could have been a beautiful face turned horrid.

Her jaw was down too low, eyes also black with no pupil as she screamed at you before she began floating towards you. The evoked a scream out of you but as soon as it left your lips you felt Manny yank on your arm once more, followed by him shoving you up behind a door, hand clasped over your mouth.

“Sssh,” he coached you, eyes drifting from your frightened stare as he looked at the door listening to what sounded like the clicking of heels.

“Malachi,” the woman in white called.

Which made you clench your eyes shut just as Manny carefully locked the door to your daughter’s bedroom. Keeping a finger to his lips, he guided you away from the door, taking slow steps back to the spacious closet. Sliding the barn door closed behind you, Manny went to the old diaper changing station that stood in the center of the closet. His hands went underneath it, pressing on something that slid the clothes on the rack out of the way.

With the gun he trailed it along the wall, making a symbol. Something you saw once at his grandmother’s house back in Detroit, a family crescent that was also tattooed somewhere on his back. The wall began to move, revealing a large safe. Manny tucked the gun into his waist band and quickly latched onto the handles, twisting and turning before it popped open.

He didn’t look back at you, holding his hand out and expecting you to grab it. You held your head back, staring up at the ceiling, making a silent prayer as your fingers found your husband’s. He led the way, stepping over and into the safe and helping you in as you did so. He closed the safe behind you, locking it with a scanner that went over his right eye.

You waited as he led the way, lights turning on at each step. The tunnel was cold, and illuminated in brown lighting as he led the way to the unknown.

Finding yourself sitting on a cozy tan couch in what appeared to be a control room, you sat as Manny brought you some warm apple cider in a mug you were looking for since you left Detroit. You hated warm apple cider and yet Manny came with a scooper dropping a few ice cubes into your mug. A small smile played on your lips as you stirred the beverage with a spoon before placing it on a side table near you.

“Might as well get comfortable down here, we’ll be here at least until dawn.” Manny mentioned, crouched over a control system that suddenly lit up, showing screens of the house.

He then picked up a walkie and connected it, “Mick? Maeve and Isla’s family good?”

“They’re fine.” Mick responded after some time, “they’re all having dinner.”

Your stomach rumbled at the thought. You were really looking forward to the leftover oxtail rasta pasta in the fridge. However your body was saying you were hungry but your mind was elsewhere.

“What about yall?” Mick asked.

Manny glanced over at you resting your head back on the couch, arms folded.

“We’re good…” Manny started, “first time actually seeing her tonight.”

“Shit.”

“Word. I’ll talk to you in a bit, brother.”

“Alright.”

Manny pulled his lips into his mouth, dropping his head a bit as he realized he had some explaining to do. Standing up he made his way over to you, plopping down so that your thighs were brushing.

“C’mere.” Manny attempted to scoop a arm across your shoulders.

You shoved him away by the chest, “no, fuck that. Start talking.”

Manny exhaled through his nostrils, tightening his jaw before he rubbed his hands against his pants, going to rest his elbows against his knees.

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say.”

You were silent but did not falter your gaze from the side of Manny’s face.

“This house is one of the only houses in the states that belonged to my family for centuries.” Manny started, “Nick was the one to get it remodeled but I outbid him on purchasing it. Which pissed him off in the end.” He was smirking making you want to slap it right off his gorgeous face.

So you opted for shoving his knee.

He cleared his throat, “I knew we would need a place to stay once it got out to the charter that I wasn’t one hundred percent who I said I was. It was perfect at the time, secluded and away from everybody. I’m shocked homeboy even managed to get here…you know once you get to this area things start to malfunction. There’s a reason for that.”

You held your breath.

“It’s her doing.” Manny continued, “my great great great—however many great aunt who keeps calling for someone named Malachi? Which is her son, lived and died here many years ago. It was brutal.”

Your crossed legs on the floor began to wiggle now, finger pressed to your temple. Manny picked up on this, reaching for your injured foot to rest across his lap as he sighed.

“This was only supposed to be a temporary spot! A month or two tops and we would be out of here, move somewhere else or build a place someplace else. It didn’t register that it’s the anniversary of what happened to them here.” Manny told you while you glared at him.

There was so much he was still leaving out.

“You must have had so much on your mind that you also forgot to mention to your wife that you wanted to move her and your four year old to the land of the damned?” You hissed.

Manny took your words with a grain of salt, “I didn’t know things would go this far. No one told me she would be a vengeful spirit. Like I said, it was only supposed to be a couple of weeks.”

“How did she die? What happened to her and the baby, Malachi?”

“…they accused her of being a undercover witch after she decided to leave the convent back in Mexico. She had miraculously became pregnant before with a boy she decided to name Malachi, most of the sisters tried to help her and convince her to stay believing it was a blessing instead but the head nun shunned her due to the actions she did not commit. So she crossed the border, found a home, this home, gave birth, and settled. What started out as a new chapter soon found a bitter end.” Manny caressed your ankle which actually began to throb again.

Manny sniffed, “the head nun went around convincing others that my aunt was a witch…she was a real hater even after my aunt left. A religious cult that the head nun was cool with—thats ironic right? Located my aunt and stole the four month old baby boy and drowned him in the creek up the road.”

You felt nauseous at this. A hand going up to cover your mouth as you had to calm yourself down. It made better sense now, upsetting nonetheless but at least you were finally getting the basis of this house.

“I almost drowned earlier,” you said with shaky breath.

Manny sat up.

“That’s why I called you multiple times before I reached out to max. It was her, your aunt. She did that to me.” Your eyes stared down at your foot, “she’s looking for her baby.”

“Which they never found, only his blanket…the investigators only found her body hanging and badly burned.” Manny’s voice was low as he realized, “I’m so sorry, mama.”

And you knew he was.

Another thought occurred to you, “Is Maeve going to be safe?”

“As long as she’s nowhere near this house. I made sure Mick understood that.” Manny replied with a curt nod.

Some tension seemed to release from your body at this news. Manny brought your legs up to his lips, placing a kiss at the purplish bruise on your ankle. His hands then slipped up your thigh to rest there while he now tried to pull you into his lap.

This time you allowed it but you were still aggravated. There was already so much going on in your lives and now you just learned about a (rightfully) vengeful family member that you didn’t really want to meet.

“You should have told me,” you said as Manny locked his lands around your waist, “then I wouldn’t have gotten max involved.”

“fuck him though. Forget about Chef Boyardee,” Manny said from over your head making you jerk your head back, “spending all this time with my girl, my wife. I just hope you didn’t bring him around my daughter.”

“What did you say?”

“Which part?” Manny cleared his throat, sitting his body up straight with you still in his lap.

You gripped his face turning it to look right at you. And manny did but not without a side eye radiating from his long lashes.

“How did you know he’s in the culinary business?”

“I told you I got eyes everywhere,” manny boldly notified.

“Manny you got three seconds to stop playing with me before I call Malachi my damn self.” You warned.

Manny held his hands out with a quirk of his thick brows, “oh excellent idea, mama. I’ve been ready to empty out the clip again, it’s been a few hours actually and since I was being generous and didn’t do that to max thanks to my friendliness with his aunt Melissa? I dare you.”

“You are deranged!” You yelled, “how are you friendly with his aunt Melissa?”

“You wanted Maeve in private school and I want her in public school. Did some digging on Max to find that the woman who raised him, his aunt on his deceased father’s side is a school teacher. Fascinating isn’t it?” Manny told you.

Getting off his lap you should have known. This was the man you married, the man who always had a plan. You were starting to wonder did you meet Max out of pure coincidence or was this all part of whatever game Manny was playing?

“…Does max work for you?”

“Nah,” Manny smirked, “you did that all on your own, sweetheart. but…he can if he wants to get that restaurant started.”

“Is that entity even real? Is anything real with you?”

Manny frowned as you felt like you wanted to start bawling. This was all becoming too much for you to handle and you’ve been holding on for so long.

“Hey now,” Manny crouched beside you as you held your face away from him, “of course it is. I don’t play with the dead…I usually dispose of ‘em—

“Oh fuck you!” You yelled getting to you feet, almost forgetting your injured toe as you crumpled to the carpet in front of the man you married, “this isn’t a joke anymore! This is my life and I’m not going to continue with you fucking it up!”

Cradling your foot, your toe began to bleed through the gauze. Breathing air through your teeth your eyes burned with tears as Manny moved around the room for the first aid kit. He sat on the edge of the couch, gripping your ankle to cater to your wound and you let him.

Laying back on the carpet, you bit down on your lip as tears slid down your cheeks with your arms folded.

“I did too much this time, huh?” Manny asked.

Huffing you nodded your head, “yeah…and I think I’m really done.”

He was just about to place a kiss on your ankle but your words stopped him.

“Whatchu say?”

Swallowing you looked up at him saying, “I want out. I want a divorce, Rio.”

The way you said his nickname with such venom on your tongue did not sit right with him. At all so he was on you then, catching you off guard as your breath got caught in your lungs. He was hovering over you now, hands on either side of the face as he peered down at you with those dark eyes.

“Are you threatening me right now, isla? At a time like this?” He trailed his nose along your cheek, making you turn your head away from him as he spoke into your ear, “you and I both know you’re not going nowhere. We love each other too much and we took vows to each other which means something in my book. I’ll be damned if I let this ruin us.”

He still didn’t get it.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Manny pulled away from you, rubbing at his mouth as the ceiling above you rattled, “we got bigger problems right now.”

His eyes were at the monitor as he helped you up.

“W-what now?” You cleared your throat.

Manny could see Max starting to wake up on one of the monitors, which was not a good thing—for him. Moving closer, Manny stared hard at each screen with you standing behind him in utter confusion.

He lifted his head in that moment, tilting it to the side as he placed a finger to his lips. He suddenly moved away from you, staring out into the hallway as the sound of creaking followed.

“Man—

“We gotta go, now!”

“Go where?! I thought here was safe.”

“We gotta go lower, mama. Right now! There’s a elevator in the back of the room. We better get on that or else.” Manny ordered, quickly moving around as he snatched up the walkie and moved over to the wall to send the weapon station down below.

“Or else, what?!”

He came back to you as your heart began to race. Manny pecked your lips, gripping the sides of your neck, “that bitch is gonna flood this area up. She’ll drown us and contrary to your belief, I care about your well-being a ton, even if you don’t think I go about it right. Your ass is mine and I’m forever yours so unless you want to see a reenactment of the titanic…we gotta get the hell up outta here, you understand?”

“Isla?” Manny quizzed.

You held his stare before you slipped your hands in his again. This time Manny allowed you to lead the way to the gated elevator, his gaze elsewhere as water ran down the opposite hallway. It was your turn to yank the lanky man beside you, hands sliding the gate shut after him. Manny was mashing on the buttons, the old elevator suddenly dropping as waves of water began to flood the room you were just in.

Some water splashed into the elevator, the amount was like someone flicking water at you in the pool. Your eyes closed, thinking this was the end but found yourselves descending just in time, to someplace else with a man you thought you knew.

⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here

#rio x black!reader #good girls nbc #good girls netflix #manny montana #mayans mc fx #mayans mc s4 #mayans mc x reader #manny mayans x reader #in the dark cw #max parish #max parish x reader #casey deidrick #october prompts #spooky prompts

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