#but twelve help anyone that touches it without his permission

[skywalkin-in-the-papes]

Newsies And What Instruments They Play - Headcanon

Hey there! Here's some Newsies headcanons that me and my pals @nycnewsgirl and @newsies-but-theacadianway came with about what instruments the boys would play. I added the details just to make it a little more fun. Anyhoo, I'm curious about what you think so feel free to agree or disagree or come up with your own ideas in the comments.

-Jack sings and plays the guitar. And Katherine equally loves it and makes fun of it being the most cliche way ever to romance a girl (which he definitely does take her up to the rooftop of the lodge and strums away on his guitar while singing to her. He loves the vibe and romance of it. She...doesn't always roast him.) He just enjoys the simplicity of his own voice accompanied by a guitar. And also, he can sing whenever he wants up on the rooftop and most of the time no one sends out a noise complaint. Jack likes to sing and play a lot of pop and country songs but he'll branch out and try new things if someone introduces him to it. Mostly, he just likes to play things that the boys (mostly Crutchie) want to hear or play along with him. He just loves getting to sing and play because to him, it helps him feel free and like he can do anything. Jack also will occasionally play harmonica because Santa Fe. Need I say any more?

-Davey plays piano and he can play most of your typical classical pieces by memory. He has the perfect piano posture and is fairly graceful and delicate. He likes to lead a group from the piano but doesn't like to play piano duets with anyone else really (ask Sarah.). He's actually really good at jazz though and likes being creative with classical pieces by putting a jazz spin on them.

-Crutchie plays mandolin and banjo. He loves to strum little folksy tunes and sit outside on the rooftop. Sometimes he'll convince Jack to learn the words to the song and sing along with him (oh who are we kidding? Jack 100% learns the words to the songs and how to play it on the guitar.). Crutchie is very chilled out by his music and sometimes he'll come down into the bunkroom and play songs so the little boys will go to sleep. He's a beast at the mandolin too (which is a feat considering it has twelve strings) because he plays at least once a day for awhile and Jack can't say no so he'll join in and then it'll wind up being more like 2 hours of play time.

-Race can play the triangle (yes, he wakes the boys who won't get out of bed up with it every morning and yes, they HATE it.). He uses it every time any kind of a meal rolls around when everyone is home (the boys kinda hate this too but not as much as the other aforementioned triangle use). At Christmas time, Race will play the slap stick in Sleigh Ride and will leap across the stage like a reindeer (claiming that it helps him feel more like one) as he slaps the two wooden 2 x 4s together. In a regular setting, he usually has both of these percussion instruments nearby. Race can also play guitar and he likes to play...any kind of music really. He likes anything that he can strum fast and/or hard to. He's not a very gentle player (which when he plays with Finch who also plays guitar, they play things that have an equal amount of picking and strumming). He also likes to collect picks and NO ONE can touch his precious picks without his permission. (Thanks, Nutcracker for helping come up with the last couple things for Race). None of the boys question it anymore because they've put up with Race's antics long enough that they know better.

-Albert plays barry sax and/or drums. He likes that with the barry sax he gets to be a solid presence but still stable and not have to do anything too fancy most of the time. He appreciates the occasional solo that'll get thrown his way but he just likes to stick to the fun low rhythms. When he plays drums (and he's not too busy hardcore judging Race for his triangle or slapstick playing), he likes to be a little bit fancier with the rhythms and he likes to be a little bit louder. He likes to remind people that he is there and he IS the stable rhythm. He likes to play any kind of rock or metal songs on the drums. Something that has drive but a stable rhythm. On his barry sax, he likes to play anything that's got a fun but stable groove to it.

-Les plays baby bongos(the Davey approved instrument) and trumpet(obviously the non-Davey approved instrument). He would never tell Davey this but(he actually enjoys the baby bongoes because they sound fun). He really likes to play the trumpet because it's loud, he can play fast on it, and it annoys Davey. The baby bongos are almost a little too small and a little too boring for him because Davey just teaches him really simple rhythms while Les wants to learn something more...intense. Hence why he had Finch teach him trumpet (Finch plays a lot of things.).

Speaking of the bird boy...

-Finch plays a lot of different instruments....like a lot. He plays guitar, flute, trumpet, and really any kind of brass instrument to name a few. He appreciates them all for the different styles of music he can experiment with. He spends a lot of time playing guitar and learning all kinds of different pieces on it but he really plays a variety of instruments for a variety of occasions. He likes being able to play the different instruments just whenever he feels like it (Jack had to tell him he could only play flute and guitar late at night because they're quieter). Oftentimes during a performance, he'll be running around the stage, filling in on different parts or playing a song here only to run across the stage to play a song on a completely different instrument. Somehow he manages to keep all of his different clefs and keys straight (just don't ask him what happened during a performance of The Little Mermaid for his high school. He was playing trumpet and picked up his flute and had the trumpet music in front of him and it got confusing real fast. Thankfully, Finch got his flute music and it was all good.). Finch likes playing with the other boys who play instruments as well as teaching some of the other boys instruments. He loves random little jam sessions and watching one of his friends achieve a new skill on an instrument (they all joke that he's the one going to Carnegie though). Finch just enjoys sitting in a tree with an instrument after a long day and playing while forgetting his problems, sometimes by himself or with a couple of his close friends.

-Romeo plays the accordion and some hand percussion (give that boy a tambourine and....well you'll feel whatever you feel when he starts playing it). Why? So he can croon romantic songs while playing the accordion. Does it work? Ummm..... Nah, he really loves it because he likes to learn love songs on it and he feels that the accordion is a very romantic instrument. He also likes that you get to play keys and push a lot of buttons. It's very hands on which is a good thing for him. When Race annoys (he doesn't think it's annoying but ask Romeo) the boys in the morning with the triangle, Romeo gets out the accordion and then things escalate into a noise war (Jack eventually kicks them both out onto the fire escape or something). Most of the time though, Romeo likes to play the accordion out on the fire escape to see if a neighboring apartment has a fair young woman who would be interested in hearing his playing. He appreciates how the accordion allows him to be flamboyant and expressive all at the same time while being his (in his book) most mastered attribute....romantic. As far as the hand percussion goes, he can be as loud and enthusiastic as he wants with it and nobody judges. He loves the tambourine (it's his favorite one) because it's loud and requires a lot of movement. If he wants to impress someone though, he goes for the accordion.

-Spot plays the violin. He..surprisingly plays some very pretty classical music on it (which Race totally makes fun of him for from the percussion section), folksy songs (boy does have some Irish heritage) and he likes playing as the violinist for groups who perform rock operas. His classical training enables him to do...so much with his violin. He started by taking violin lessons as one normally would and just playing a lot of different kinds of music which in turn made him a very versatile musician. The other violinists he knows all think he's amazing (and his reputation is something Spot doesn't let others think they can trifle with). Spot basks in this but purposely appears hard to please so he can maintain his tough reputation. He really enjoys the classical music as much as the other music but he can't let anyone know because that would reveal that he has a soft spot and Spot Conlon does NOT have a soft spot.

-Jojo plays ukulele and playing it takes him right to his happy place. He'll sit on the beach in Brooklyn (Spot won't kick him out because he actually likes the peaceful vibes of Jojo's playing) and just strum a song. Sometimes it's some kind of island song that he learned from the Internet, a pop song, or some kind of Spanish guitar song but Jojo thinks it sounds better on ukulele so that's where it gets played the most. When some of the younger boys are struggling to go to sleep, he'll strum some peaceful music to go to sleep. The other boys don't care because it actually helps them go to sleep better too. That and it's Jojo and the music is very peaceful. Sometimes he hums along but he's kind of shy about his singing voice so he mostly just strums. Once he picked up ukulele, he realized that this is the one habit which soothe any nerves that he has. He'll sit somewhere and play by himself and just enjoy the peaceful rhythm of his strumming or he'll play for others so they can feel the same kind of calm and peace that he does.

-Kid Blink plays alto sax. He likes that it's kind of loud but can do some really cool things and can be as smooth as butter. It's kind of an aggressive instrument but it can do some amazing things. Part of the reason why Blink likes it so much. He can play some of the punchiest melodies on the planet that are loud and biting while also being able to play some of the smoothest jazz pieces. Blink typically likes to play band music or jazz. He loves band arrangements of pop songs (even though he finds the actual pop songs annoying, the band version to him is a ton of fun). He likes to play music with Albert, Mush, and really any of the guys. He also likes to compete with Race's triangle and plays louder than Race so that way people can hear something more fun than just Race banging jingle bells on the triangle for the umpteenth time. He and Romeo then get into a "who can play louder" competition and...yeah, you can imagine how that goes. There's a lot of loud accordion and saxophone music going on. Blink likes playing smooth jazz pieces that sound beautiful and he likes some of the more fun and fast jazz solos. He's someone who really really likes to see how fast he can play so he'll pick something ambitious to play and just goes to town on it. He and Albert get into little who can play faster competitions and the boys cheer them on. Crutchie, Mush, Jojo, or Buttons will tell them that they really play equally fast but the boys don't listen. They want to WIN. (Except any of those boys most definitely can shred more than Blink and Al but they don't need to know that). Blink just likes playing saxophone because it's freeing. He can be as loud as he wants and it still sounds cool. Much like how he has a somewhat loud and outgoing personality, but he can do a lot of cool things with it.

(Okay, this next one might get really long because I love Mush and his instrument. I'm sorry but I also love Mush so I'm not that sorry)

-Mush plays clarinet and he's really good at it. He loves getting to play pretty jazz things, pretty classical things...etc. He also likes playing things that are a bit more loud and flamboyant but he likes playing quieter too and some of the more elegant styles. That being said, Mush likes to play just about anything as long as he doesn't just sit there and hold notes. He thinks that that is really boring even if the melody on top is really pretty. Davey loves to play music with him because they can play some really pretty duets and Mush typically follows the music or Davey's directions. They play some really pretty things that surprisingly will captivate some of the younger boys on any given night. Mush LOVES to play in the pit for musicals. He loves it when he gets to play fun little solos or the melody that the cast is singing. He likes the jazzy musicals the best because then he gets to bust out his jazz skills as well. And maaaaannnn, does this boy have jazz skills? He can do slides and vibrato and growls pretty well. Sometimes they go sideways and it makes him and whoever is playing with him laugh. Mush plays music with a lot of the different boys. He likes to learn new songs and styles and try out different tricks that he learns on his clarinet with these new songs. He'll play just about anywhere and at anytime really. If there's a girl he likes in the room, he'll just casually start playing from somewhere else in the room and see if she notices. Jack will periodically kick him out to the fire escape at night if there is some peace and quiet needed in the lodging house. He'll just sit on his bunk(which is a top one for the sake of this headcanon) and casually swing his legs back and forth while he's playing. But seriously, he'll play just about anywhere. He can play really high notes on his clarinet and sometimes that's more effective in getting the boys to be quiet than shouting or whistling at them because high notes on a clarinet are super loud (Skittery hates it when this happens and it's not in a piece of music). Mush likes to play in a little jazz combo with Finch, Albert, Skittery, Davey, and sometimes Crutchie or Jack. They have a ton of fun playing little jazz songs from the 30s but they usually do that when the littles are out for the night so that they can just enjoy their music. Blink and Mush also play a lot of music together because they both play woodwinds (yes, I'm aware that sax is also technically a brass instrument) and they play jazz songs and all kinds of things. Sometimes Blink joins in on the little jazz combo when he has free time to do so and he and Mush will trade solos back and forth just for fun. Mush and Finch play together a lot too and they also would trade solos back and forth (Finch plays a variety of instruments that go well with Mush's clarinet so it would depend on the day and his mood what he's playing). Mush plays in a lot of different groups when he has time and similar to Finch, has a pretty well rounded musical skill set.

Also, I did actually write something on Wattpad where Mush plays clarinet: https://www.wattpad.com/1116924147-life-with-the-newsies-one-shots-open-to-ocs-all

It's a 20s AU oneshot and I had a blast writing it. I am hoping to write some more for him in the future.

-Skittery plays drums and double bass/bass guitar. He likes the drums because he can hold down the rhythm but it also helps him get out any...frustrations. He really likes rock and metal music for this reason because he can hit the drums as hard and fast as he wants and no one's complaining as long as it sounds cool. He sometimes will play bass guitar but only in a more chill setting. He enjoys getting to play some cool bass solo every once in awhile in some kind of fancy rock song. Bass can get really gritty and Skittery can really let some of his more negative emotions just get lost in the bass solos. He also will play double bass in orchestral or jazz music. Orchestral music is something that Skittery....tolerates. He just...for some reason doesn't find it very interesting. He LOVES jazz though because he can play some fun and fast jazz solos. He also likes that they don't sound as gritty but that his jazz solos can just be so...pleasant to play. Again, it really helps him get out of his crappy mood (even though he'll deny it) to just go to town on some kind of jazz song where he gets to go all over the bass' register. Skittery likes things (and he would never admit this) that are just...fun to play on an emotional level because they really do make him happy. He doesn't like to stick out but he likes to have his moments of fun and he likes to hold down a reliable rhythm that people can count on.

-Buttons plays the banjo. He honestly love the more...rustic sound of it. He enjoys playing fast folk songs but he'll also play a soothing ballad and get into it just the same. Buttons can finger pick across the fret board of a banjo quite well and aspires to be like some of the great bluegrass players someday (seriously, just look at this man's Spotify Wrapped. It's all FOLK). He and Crutchie, Jack, or Finch will sometimes play together. Buttons also really enjoys Southern Gospel music so he'll play that too sometimes. He just enjoys all of the things that a banjo can do and yet, it feels so simple because it's all on one instrument. It can add a lot but it's still simple and can stand up on it's own, much like himself.

(Can you tell that I like things to have deeper meanings? These all end with these instruments relating to the boys in some way).

-Elmer is Buttons' (and sometimes Crutchie's) folksy partner in crime with his fiddle/violin. These two will play together for HOURS. Elmer and Buttons have learned all of the folk songs together and they both know all of the little solos that make those songs sound the way that they should. Elmer also will play classical music and periodically a pop song or two, but folk is really where his heart's at. He has played jazz occasionally and enjoys it too. Elmer loves violin because it sticks out in the group. It's also something pretty unique in and of itself (even though Skittery literally tells him it's the most POPULAR string instrument. Yes, Elmer gets very passionate about that topic.) and Elmer just really likes its versatility. He primarily uses it for folk music but he enjoys having an instrument that meshes well with a lot of different styles. He likes being able to blend in and stick out all the same. He wants his moments of solo time to shine and to be heard but, he wants others to be heard too.

-Specs plays tenor sax. He loves how low and mellow it is. He can play some pretty things that stick out but, he prefers to keep things smooth and chill. He and Finch will play together a lot to just sort of jam. Specs like just getting to vibe and play smooth jazz music or pop songs. Most of the time, he prefers really chill and slow jazz. He finds it soothing and it gives him a chance to stand out without overdoing things too much. He particularly likes French sounding jazz because it has a lot of smooth and pretty tenor saxophone in it. He loves getting to sustain notes down in that lower register just because they sound absolutely reassuring. He finds it easy to lose himself in music like that. This boys absolutely LOVES to play gentle soft jazz when it's raining outside. Like he just loves the rainy jazz vibes that tenor sax allows him to experience. He's not the most vibey person but this gives him all the feels for sure. He also has a lot of fun playing more energetic music though and will play some fun solos in more exciting swing music songs (and he will sometimes prove to the boys that yes he CAN in fact solo and keep up with the rest of them and he doesn't prefer to stick in the background all the time...). The smoother jazz is more relaxing to him and it allows him to play things that he wants to play without it always being chaotic and loud (even though he plays a notoriously loud instrument) because he enjoys getting to have his moments but he prefers them to be more chill and relaxing, just like he is most of the time. Being slow and more relaxed calms the anxiety that he has about always having to...perform well and allows him to just be himself.

(Yeah, sorry if that was a crappy ending on that one. I feel like some of these background Newsies are all starting to seem the same even if they're very different people.)

And last but not least....

-Henry plays the cello and takes it VERY SERIOUSLY. He's the kind of guy that people play to have Pachelbel's Canon in D at their wedding. Yeah, that's Henry. For some reason, holding half notes to him isn't super boring. He's very particular about his music and will really only play classical music (no seriously, he low-key scoffs at any of the boys who play jazz). He also practices for HOURS a day because he wants to be the best at what he does. Like the absolute best. He plays in nearly every orchestra that he can try out for and he tries to learn ambitious solos. He gets really cranky if he can't find a quiet place to practice in the Lodge where he KNOWS he won't be interrupted. The only people he will sometimes play music with is Davey or Elmer. They're and I quote "the only ones who appreciate classical music enough" (even though Mush, Finch, and Skittery also play classical music. He's tried playing with each of them before...and well. And yeah, don't even ask about Race.). He will sometimes even give both of them the stink eye just because they've been and I quote again "tainted by jazz". He chills out though once he starts playing his music. He just gets lost in it. He's the kind of guy who will talk about one gorgeous chord for a literal ten minutes (and I mean...he's not wrong because it is a beautiful chord.) and the other boys are just nodding their heads. Henry likes the cello because he can be precise and expressive. It allows him to be very present but still allows him to play in a way that is very precise and makes his style well voiced, much like he carries himself.

Alright that's the end.

PSYCH

I'm throwing in a bonus. Merry Christmas!

No actually, Merry Christmas! I'm writing this on Christmas.

Well parts of it, this has been a work in progress for months now but I think I'm finally finishing it. Hectic semester and all that.

-Mike and Ike play marimba and xylophone respectively (and yes, those are different instruments and no, don't tell them they're the same because they may actually fight you. If you really wanna know, ask Race.). They love to play songs together and bounce different rhythms and melodies off each other. They'll play just about anything and they absolutely love songs where they can just go crazy. They work together (periodically even their music wars against each other's but who does that surprise?) and despite their...occasional disagreements, have a ton of fun. The faster they play and the more energetic they can be, the more they feel like themselves. They love sometimes even switching instruments mid-song or playing one song on the same instruments. Their feats are unmatched by the other percussionists within the Lodge because they are 100% the legendary dynamic duo. They enjoy the energy that they get from playing their instruments and the joy that they get by playing together.

Alright, I'm done for real. Merry Christmas, you guys! Hope you have a wonderful day!

#newsies #livesies #newsies broadway #newsies 1992 #davey jacobs #spot conlon #newsies live #newsies movie #92sies #jack kelly #newsies mush #mush myers #mush meyers #kid blink #skittery #albertdasilva #crutchie morris #crutchie newsies #david jacobs #crutchie #specs newsies #newsies musical #newsies headcanons #finch cortez #elmer kasprzak #elmer newsies #romeo newsies #les jacobs #henry newsies #racetrackhiggins

[skylarstark4826]

Shuri, who is born with a name already engraved on her wrist, doesn't bother to look it up on any Wakandan registry, already making peace with the fact that she will find no matches. It wouldn’t take a genius (though Shuri prides herself on the fact that she is one) to recognize her soulmate, with his name spelled in foreign characters, is not a Wakandan citizen nor is he of Wakandan descent. 

At seven, she starts studying her soulmate’s language in secret. If in case he did not speak any of her languages, then Shuri will be there to communicate with him in his mother tongue. By the end of the month, she has already mastered writing the alphabet, and her free time is spent poring over the books in her soulmate’s culture. 

By twelve, Shuri grows impatient. She ponders the idea of becoming a War Dog and thinks of being assigned to the offshores of Mexico, dreaming of finally putting a face to the name on her wrist. Ultimately, she decides against it, content to stay in her lab to search for other, more alternative ways to find him, wherever he may be. 

When her brother is suddenly taken by sickness, Shuri temporarily holds off the topic of soulmates, and trades in her knowledge of history and linguistics for biochemical engineering and medicine. 

On the eve of her brother’s passing, Shuri is no closer to finding her soulmate, though she has since stopped looking. 

—

Shuri touches the painted walls of Namor’s grotto and starts to recall long-forgotten memories. As her fingers trace the waves, she is reminded of the warriors who speak her soulmate’s tongue. For years she had wondered what he would look like and now…

Now there is a slim chance that her soulmate might be blue. 

“It did not help my case when the Spanish priest had seen my bare skin, devoid of any mark, and branded me as el niño sin amor shortly after. I have reserved that name for my enemies ever since.” 

“So, I’m taking you don’t have a soulmate?”

There is a knowing glint in his eye when he says,  “I did not say that.” Then his gaze wanders briefly downward, leading to her arm. Where her mark is. 

Shuri, remembering that she is without her kimoyo beads, clutches her arm closer to her chest. One of her prerequisites during its early design stages was for the beads to be big enough to hide soulmate marks, so as to deter people from asking too many questions. A prerequisite that, up to now, Shuri still thanks her younger self for coming up with. 

To her surprise, Namor’s brows do not furrow in confusion, unlike the warrior who had bested Okoye. Nor does he glare at her in suspicion, much unlike the warrior next to him who had killed the American officers in cold blood. No, instead, the edge of his lips quirks in silent delight as he appraises her. 

He moves to grab her hand and brings it closer, Shuri along with it. She frowns at his boldness. The nerve of him, touching her without permission. She has to bite her tongue before any insults could fly, reminding herself that she is still a guest in his home and the probability of her negotiations ending in success depends solely on the extent of her self-control. 

“Your warriors took a good look at my wrist back there. They wouldn’t happen to know anyone with this name, would they?” She mentally sends Riri an apology and hopes the young scientist will find it in her heart to forgive Shuri for her selfishness. Surely she would understand if she delayed the negotiations for a few minutes. Just until she can wean out the identity of her soulmate. Perhaps maybe even his whereabouts if she asks nicely enough. 

Namor thumbs the pulse point located below her wrist, fingertips touching the edge of the second character. Shuri notes how big his hand is compared to hers, how easily it encompasses her slim wrist, but thinks nothing more of it. She had to focus. “They had looked at it because you are the first surface dweller in years to have a name borne from Talokan. And a princess no less.” He says simply, nodding like he has confirmed something in his head before letting her go. “But no, they wouldn’t know who it is.”

Her wrist is aflame, but it doesn’t deter her from asking, “But you do?”

Namor shows her his teeth and Shuri cannot stop thinking of a great white shark. 

“I do.” 

Before Shuri can question him further, he is already unclasping one of his bracers. When it drops to the floor, Shuri watches its descent. When the sound of its clanging reverberates along the walls of his hut as it slowly slides under his hammock, Shuri watches it, still. Namor raises his forearm to her face and the last few echoes of the golden accessory are the furthest thing on her mind right now. 

The words register immediately, but Shuri still has to blink—once, twice, just to make sure that what she is seeing is actually real. If her mind has decided that now was the perfect time to start playing tricks on her before she wakes up to find herself in her own bed. But the image does not leave her and the words do not change no matter how many times she repeats them in her head. 

There, on his wrist, is her name in familiar Wakandan text, barely legible to anyone save perhaps the author and its wearer. There, between the lifelines and long blue veins, is Shuri Udaku, written in rushed, easy strokes like she had been writing it in haste and proper penmanship was merely an afterthought. 

It is a shame, Shuri thinks, her head still reeling. Her soulmate is stuck with the chicken scratches she makes while running on seven cups of caffeine and pure genius, when usually her handwriting was neat and orderly. 

In one of her earliest memories, before her parents realize her mind would not be properly stimulated in a normal Wakandan school and decide to switch her to higher and higher grade levels, Shuri is five and showing her father a poem written by her own hand. She is sitting on her baba's knee and starts to talk of the baobab trees that grow strong and tall in Wakandan soil before he takes a peek at her paper and smiles, complimenting her on her shorthand. Five-year-old Shuri smiles too, preening at the praise. 

Now Shuri is twenty-four and does not sit on anyone’s knee nor does she write any more poetry about baobab trees. Instead, she stands with her feet planted directly on the ground, her spine ramrod straight, and swallows. The shock, the disbelief, the outrage–all of it goes down her throat, heading towards her esophagus. Her stomach ingests it in the silence. 

Her name might be on his wrist, but that does not mean he was her soulmate by default. There are many cases in which one half of a soulmate pair share a name and the other does not, which is rare, yes, but not impossible. On top of it all, Shuri is by no means an idiot and if he takes her for one then he will be greatly disappointed. She knows how to write his name in Mayan lettering and no matter how many ways she can put it, in how many ways she may twist it, K’uk’ulkan will never, not even in a million years, match the name on her wrist. 

Because how can Shuri ever accept the fact that this immortal god-king, who has trapped her with him in the cold dark caves he calls his home, and her mysterious soulmate (who, at this point, had practically been a childhood relic left hidden in the recesses of her subconscious) be one and the same?

As if reading her mind, he says, “You don’t trust me, I understand. But I told you this once before, princess, and now I will tell you again. I have many names. For my people, I am called K’uk’ulkan. For my enemies, I am Namor. But for my pixan gemela, for you, I am Cha’ah Toh Almehen."

Shuri blanched. “Can you prove it?”

Namor smirks almost as if he had expected her answer. With gentle hands, he picks up the bracelet Shuri has been eyeing ever since she walked into his hut and places it on her waiting hands. 

Shuri’s brows furrow at this, but he only juts his chin in the direction of the bracelet, silently urging her to inspect it. Though her head is still filled with doubt, she starts to examine the bracelet’s intricate jade beading. Her fingers run along its faint bumps and ridges carefully before she freezes in place. She has traced these lines before, hasn’t she?

In her lab, when she pauses her work to rest and takes off her kimoyo beads to massage tired wrists. In sleepless nights, when she tosses and turns in bed and brings a hand to cover her face. In the mornings, when she wakes up and it’s the first thing she sees—

All of a sudden, her head shoots up, almost smacking the side of Namor's skull. She looks at him, eyes wide and full of barely concealed emotion. “It’s really you,” she gasps, and he grins as he closes the distance between them.

Her soulmate might smell of the sea, but she finds that his tongue does not share any of its salt. Shuri is just grateful that her first kiss doesn’t taste like fish. 

—

“It would please me greatly if you accept this simple token of affection,” he says, already tying his mother’s bracelet to her wrist without waiting for an answer. “I have kept it close to my heart so that my uláak' chúumuk could wear it and think of me.”

They sit at the entrance of his hut, where Shuri can see her reflection in the water and Namor holds her hand with a certain reverence. It must have been hours now, she notes, since he had shown her his kingdom and yet his grip on her does not once falter. Not even when the bracelet is already safely secured on her wrist. 

She notices the size of it first; big enough to fully cover her mark. Almost like it was designed specifically for her in mind. Shuri is reminded of the promise made to his mother and, in a way, that might hold true. “It's very beautiful,” she says, in awe at the way the pearls shine against her skin. 

Namor brings her hand up to meet his cheek, and her thumb moves to feel the soft skin underneath. He sighs, leaning into her touch. “For years, I had dreamt of this day, wondering what name you would carry with you. Whether it was the name my people called me or if it would be the name that belonged to my enemies. Recently, I have even toyed with the idea that I may find both. But it is a great comfort to reunite with the name my mother gave me, even after all this time.”

Shuri’s eyes glance briefly at the water, her distorted reflection returning her slight frown, then back to him. “No one calls you by this name?”

His head shakes sadly and his beard starts to dig at her skin following the movement, tickling her. “I only allowed my mother to use it. My ears have grown used to hearing the same two names after she passed.” 

Until me. Her brain supplies, but she dare not voice it out.

“Would you like me to call you by Cha’ah Toh, then—only when it's just the two of us?”

Namor smiles then and Shuri thinks, not for the first time that night, how utterly beautiful he looks like this. She has seen his kingdom and even witnessed his vibranium sun in all its glory but none can compare to her soulmate’s kind warm eyes glittering against the low lights, looking contentedly at her like she was something to be worshipped. Like just the mere sight of her was enough to bring joy to his face. 

He kisses the inside of her palm, still smiling. “If it would only please you.”

Later, he will have to leave her for the surface, where her mother waits, but not without kissing the name–his name–on her wrist one final time, his nosepiece cooly pushing at the edge of her hand. Playfully, he will start to plant soft kisses on the pads of each of her fingers before she shoos him away, giggling at his antics.  

Later, she will be whisked away and leave death at her wake. Later, she will look at her mark in anger and she will hide the bracelet where it will find no light. Later, Shuri will see him as nothing but a curse to wear for the rest of her life. 

But here, in the now, she is with her soulmate who looks at her with stars in his eyes and warmth in his heart. Here they sit in comfortable silence, facing each other, and Shuri starts to envision a future with this man. One where she is not burdened with duty nor is she haunted by death. 

In her head, there is already an image of her smiling. This Shuri wears delight on her face like it belongs there. There is no grief to tug down at the corners of her mouth because he is there to kiss it away. 

#nashuri #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #namor and shuri #namor of talokan #shuri of wakanda #king namor #princess shuri #nashuri fanart #namor x shuri fanart #black panther #black panter wakanda forever #namor mcu #namuri

[indiaalphawhiskey]

🌶️ 'Cause I wrote today Snippet

“Permission to continue, Captain?” Louis asked, sarcastically, to which Harry stuck out his tongue. Good enough, he thought. “All I’m saying is, I really don’t think we need to sell it. I mean, for all anyone here knows, we’ve been together thirty years and are in a sexless marriage on the brink of divorce.”

Harry’s scoff was loud and deeply offended. “Okay, first of all,” he argued, gesturing between them, “look at us. We’d never be in a sexless anything—”

And, okay, Louis thought, tipping his head back and forth, fair enough. 

“—and second,” Harry continued without missing a beat, “this is serious, Lou. Mrs. Riaz went all out. I mean, the villa alone is five thousand—”

“What, like, per week?”

Harry looked at him like he couldn’t possibly be serious. “Per night.”

Louis felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, the air flying straight out of his lungs as his eyes bulged out of his head. “Five thousand pounds?” he choked out, feeling his vertigo kicking in. 

“No. Butterflies,” Harry deadpanned, completely unhelpful. He threw up a hand, exasperated. “Yes, pounds.”

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” Louis hissed, panicked and barely above a whisper now, “what the hell did you and Noah do for this place? Build it from the ground?!”

“No, but,” Harry started to explain quickly, “the Kardashians stayed at their competitors’ property last summer, so their sales dipped massively. They didn’t think hiring celebutantes was on brand, so I pitched a twelve-photo spread and negotiated the earliest spot possible in Condé Nast. Then, I just squeezed them into my schedule at the last minute, and it worked.” 

He waved off the story like it wasn’t massively impressive, but Louis would beg to disagree. Despite his mini heart attack, he could feel the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he remembered all the odd (and frankly, back breaking) photography gigs Harry had taken with gusto in the early years, to help them make ends meet – everything from children’s parties, to school photos, to low-budget proms; weekends spent setting up lights, and carrying equipment back and forth as a runner for barely-middle-tier photographers who wouldn’t even let him touch a camera. 

And now… now, Harry had flown the world thrice-over, his name printed in the byline of every travel and lifestyle magazine worth reading, had enough pull to his name that he could drop a last-minute photo spread on the lap of Condé Nast and they’d be willing to ‘negotiate’, was apparently gifted £100,000 luxury hotel holidays and yet, when pressed, still thought the very best part of his entire career was that their son actually wanted to do it with him.

Discreetly, Louis pressed his lips together, fighting the full force of his grin and pushing back the flicker of pride that had begun to heat the bottom of his belly, in favor of tuning back into what Harry was saying.

“…and Noah even managed to get the proofs to layout in less than thirty-six hours. Plus,” Harry excused, his tone filled with genuine humility, “Mrs. Riaz is an heiress, so her concept of outrageously expensive is…” he gestured vaguely in the air, “a little different.”

Louis snorted. “Understatement, much?”

Harry ignored him. “Anyway, the point is,” he said, even quieter now, his gaze serious and unwavering as they walked into the shade of the main lobby, “unless you left the UK wondering how you were gonna blow a spare fifty grand, we actually do, absolutely, have to sell this.”

Clutching a hand to his heart, Louis’ jaw dropped theatrically in faux-offense. “Harry Styles,” he chastised in a scandalized whisper, “are you actually making me go halfsies on our thirtieth anniversary? Psh.” His head recoiled on his neck. “Kind of a dick move, dude,” he joked.

“I mean,” Harry chuckled, shrugging sheepishly as he shook his head. He pulled the door to the bar open and motioned for Louis to go ahead. But just as Louis stepped in front of him, fully intending to make a quip about how gallantly opening a door for him wasn’t going to make up for Harry being a cheap date, Harry smirked and leaned in close. His breath was warm, just skating the shell of Louis’ ear as he whispered, “Not if you were planning to put out.”

😏 More from the GAPT AU

For this anon. Sorry it took so long! I hope you see it!

#GAPT AU #GAPT snippet #fathers with benefits au #flirting fathers #i missed these boys so much #it was nice to get back into the doc #fingers crossed the writing stays

[placesyoucallhome]

Favorite way to receive affection?

Ruhka has... NO GOD DAMN IDEA how to receive affection.

Quite honestly he might have a mental breakdown if someone’s just straightforward about liking him. He has very much always been the one taking care of others, and he views anyone being overly nice to him as someone trying to get something from him. Which he’s usually pretty amenable to helping people regardless, so he doesn’t understand why they’d want to butter him up for something he was already willing to hand over.

The only way someone’s going to be able to chip that wall down is to be patient and subtle, at least to a point. Touch is genuinely the fastest way to get him soften, much the same way he shows it. Head pats, lingering touches. If you wanna turn him BRIGHT RED, pulling him close (or on a lap) or hand kisses.

Just don’t touch his tail unless you wanna start something. Depending on who’s doing it and his mood, it could go one of two very different ways. But it’s still a bit of a coin toss.

#TY!!! <3 #answer #Q'ruhka #The tail is big fluffy and full of secrets #but twelve help anyone that touches it without his permission #At least if you want to keep your face intact #otherwise he's a very purry lap cat #garlean-nonsense

[anyoneseenadam]

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

—————————————————————————-

You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.  

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!”  you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

[aetheternity]

My wifey, my best friend

Synopsis: Draken knew two things in his life for sure. One, that his best friend was a virgin and two, that he had a thing for his best girl. So he decides to kill two birds with one stone. 

Disclaimer: Fem reader, Unprotected sex, kinda not really a threesome, Oral sex (m recieving), and voyeurism are all present in this. (Minors dni) 

It wasn’t hard to see. Draken’s girl had always been a sight for every man’s eyes. Even before they’d gotten together. She got attention for the way she presented herself, her face, her body and overall just how chill of a person she was. Because while she looked mean (and honestly she could be at times). She was always ready to defend anyone in her squad. 

And very often that meant Mikey. Which Draken had always been thankful for seeing as once he had the help he didn’t know how he’d done it by himself for so long. But he didn’t miss how much quicker his girlfriend got violent when it came to Mikey and vise versa. Didn't miss the prolonged smiling between them or the way they were somehow always touching.

Didn’t matter how much she’d deny it when he’d call her out. Her eye roll adorable despite the clear deception behind her words. The flush of her cheeks, dilated pupils and nervous laughter all giving her away. She wasn’t just into Draken.

She was into Mikey too. She just didn’t seem to see what he saw.  

At first it had been a bit of a sore subject filling his brain. His girl and his friend had the same feelings for each other? Well he knew you wouldn’t cheat on him, you’d always been such a sappy romantic. Crying over love stories you’d read online and forcing him to watch movies that were far too long for just a stupid kiss at the end. 

And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mikey wasn’t a concern. But every time he saw you two together it seemed as though you’d gotten even closer than the last time. Which eventually became the basis for a plan. 

“Hey.” Draken’s braid hung down the back of your couch as he called to you where you stood in the kitchen filling a big bowl with an assortment of chips and popcorn. 

“Hey.” You mimic his deep voice with a giggle coming over and setting the bowl in his lap. 

“Did you have fun with Mikey today?” He asked pressing a light kiss to your forehead. 

“Yup. Me, Mikey, and Emma had a lovely day out today.” You tossed a kernel of popcorn into your mouth with a snicker. 

“Don’t be like that. You know I’m not asking because I'm jealous.” His hair tickled the side of your face as he leaned in closer brushing stray strands of hair back from your cheeks. 

“No no, I know Ken Ken.” 

His breath flushed over your cheeks and nose when you met his eyes. You brushed your fingertips up the side of his head to trace his tattoo. His hands meeting your waist, fingers threading over the small of your back while he kissed you. And you returned the affection with every bit of eagerness that flooded your body. 

“What do you have going on Saturday?” He asked as he pulled away 

Your smile was warm, eyes practically twinkling as you said, “I don’t know whatever you’re doing I guess.” 

“You, me, Mikey, Mario Kart.” He suggests 

“That sounds so fun.” You place a kernel of popcorn on his tongue before turning to flip on the movie pulled up on the DVD player. 

“What is this?” Draken grumbled over the snack in his mouth. His demeanor quickly shifting. 

“I told you I was finally gonna show you The Notebook tonight.” You replied and Draken resisted his urge to groan as you cuddled up to his side fishing a couple chips out of the bowl still in his lap.

~~~~

Saturday morning Draken had arrived at your house at eleven am. He’d set everything up. You thought Mikey was coming at one but Draken had told him eleven knowing that he probably wouldn’t actually get there till twelve.

He’d helped you carry the bulky consoles and teased you all morning just so he could get you here. Right now at 11:45 am, your ass pressed between his bare thighs, socked feet tickling his bare knees, with your panties hanging off one foot as you worked your body up and down his length. The steady claps of your skin meeting creating a beautiful noise that bounced off the drab paint job in your living room. 

His name left your lips with a chorus of pleas. Pleas for his attention to your clit. Pleas for his thrusts to be harder. All greedy and messy while you gripped his shoulders tight for some form of stability. 

“Come on Darling, you can do it.” He replies thickly, the fingers he has sinking into the smooth flesh of your back hurt but the tighter it gets the more he’s enjoying it. “You’re doing so well.” He groans 

He slips a hand under your tee shirt looking for a better angle. His thighs spread and just for a couple seconds he indulges his good girl a little more. Feeds into your anxious cries as you whine about needing your orgasm so bad. Cock brushing against your cervix while you greedily weep for more.  

“Take it then.” He tells you breathily, head tilted back to show off the bob of his adam’s apple. His groans a little deeper as you work him up so close. Cunt squeezing so perfectly around him. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from the accumulation of sweat. “I want you to make yourself cum, Darling.” 

Your fingers twist into his shirt at every slam of his hips. Wandering hands drifting up to cup your breasts through your bra before coming back down to your hips.

You clearly can’t hear it. Too lost in bliss but the subtle click of the door opening and closing isn’t lost on Draken at all. He never stops feeding you his cock though. Not as the taps of footsteps get louder, not as the pounding in his chest gets a little harder and not even when Mikey is standing right in front of the two of you. 

“Name, Ken ch-” 

Mikey freezes and your eyes fly open thrashing around to grab the blanket at the end of the couch to cover your lower half. “Oh my god Mikey!” Mikey stays quiet though his eyes grow dark, lips parted as he stares at the two of you. “Mikey, I thought you weren’t coming till one..” You huff, hand over your forehead and eyelids as you clutch the blanket a little tighter with one hand. 

“Are you saying you’re upset that he’s here early?” Two sets of eyes fall on Draken. He has yet to let go of your hips as you sit in his lap still fully seated on his dick with his best friend standing only a couple feet away. 

“Not this again Ken..” Your words drift away as the palm of his thumb slips beneath the blanket to slide smoothly over your swollen clit. Surprisingly Mikey doesn’t make a move to leave. Feet seemingly stuck in their current position. 

He leans toward your ear though it's still loud enough for Mikey to hear. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t squeeze my cock when Mikey walked in? Are you saying you don't like his eyes on you while I make you a mess?” 

“Wha.. Ke-” A breathy gasp leaves your lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mikey finally finds his voice though it lacks the malice he usual manages to possess. 

"You might as well stay while we finish. She's almost done."

Draken spreads your thighs with one arm pulling one of your ankles up till it’s resting partially against his shoulder and partially against the back of the couch. Slowly but surely the blanket begins to slip off your lower half exposing you slightly to Mikey. With your other leg resting against his; he thrust into you so deep that it creates a noticeable bulge in your stomach for just a split second.

A couple whimpers flutter off your lips and you try to slightly steady yourself as Draken guides his length into you without even the slightest hesitation. The couch shudders with loud creaks as if it's protesting the rough pace Draken has set never taking his eyes off a still shocked Mikey.

"Have you ever thought of fucking her like this?" Draken asks his voice husky and thick over your moans.

You're almost unabashed in the way you look over to Mikey with tears welling against the corners of your eyes. Thigh tensing with every rough pound of Draken's hips.

"K-ken.." You try only to gasp. It makes Mikey's hand fly to his tee shirt trying his best to cover what was so obviously growing right before you and Draken's eyes.

"I want to watch as Mikey fucks you." Draken finally admits. "Would you want that darling? Want Mikey to pound your pretty pussy like I always do?"

"Mm close.." You cry, lips trembling and wet as you throw your head back. Your fingers twist in Draken's shirt, leg twitching awkwardly by his head.

Mikey's lips hang open. His breathing raspy as your whole body tremors. You lean forward in Draken's grasp pushing him even deeper inside you as you cry over and over, "M' cumming K-ken.."

Draken lets his head fall back against the couch as you milk him while you're trapped in your own euphoria. His dick twitching through the intense groans you pull from his chest. When he's finished he places a gentle hand on your stomach.

"Will you take care of Mikey now?" He lifts your body off of him, placing you next to him.

"You want me to fuck your girlfriend? Have you lost it?" Mikey asks, cheeks stained a bright pink.

"Yeah, I'm giving you permission to show, Name a good time while I watch."

Mikey looks over to you. Slowly but surely you extend your hand to him looking at Draken for any bit of hesitation on his part. He hesitants and then his sandals are clicking against the hardwood as Draken motions for him to get between your legs. Mikey's eyes wide with attention as he stares down at you, hands stiff at his sides.

You look to Draken again who's pulled off his shirt by this point; laying back against the couch to rub his softened cock back to life. "Kiss him." Draken nods to Mikey who's basically stone at this point.

"C-can I?" You sit up pressing your hands to his cheeks immediately delighted by the strands of hair delicately brushing against the knuckles of your fingers.

When you lean into him, he presses forward. Hands reaching for the back of the couch for support. His lips are cold. Not at all what you'd thought they'd be. Hesitant, a little shaky and over all cute.

You couldn't help but trace the shape with your tongue. They were smaller than Draken's that part was obvious and more gentle too as though he was scared he could hurt you from just a small kiss. When you pushed him a little further coaxing his lips apart he conceded for you. With a heavy breath he slid one hand down to your face, Adam's apple bobbing where you could see it through your peripherals.

When your tongue slid into his mouth he took a deep breath cautious as you prodded forward with your tongue. And just as soon you were pulling away.

Draken added pressure to his tip with his thumb before sliding his hand back down his shaft in a smooth motion. "Take her shirt off." He instructed

Not only were Mikey's lips cold but his fingertips were also slightly cold as they slipped under your shirt with shaky hands. When you reached for Mikey's shirt Draken tsked,

"Be careful with him. He's still a virgin."

Mikey gritted his teeth in Draken's direction but ultimately said nothing. Weirdly enough that information broke the tension still present in your shoulders.

"Aw Mikey that's ok." He raised his arms as you slipped his dark blue shirt over his elbows, allowing it to join your already discarded clothes in the growing pile.

Though a part of you was slightly curious about whether or not it was by his own choice. With a bit more confidence now you slid your back up the couch a bit pulling Mikey in by the hem of his shorts. Without a second thought you reached behind your back to discard your bra bringing Mikey's free hands up to massage your breasts.

The little gasp he let out was so endearing, eyes clouded with tenderness and lust. Draken snickered at his end of the couch, "How's it feel to touch boobs for the first time?"

"Shut up." Mikey grunted

With your guidance he gingerly twisted and pulled at your taut nipples earning a sweet gasp as a reward. Meanwhile your hands curved up and down his physique, enamored by the touch his abs had just beneath your finger tips. So rough yet smooth and soft as they expanded and contracted for each of his breaths.

Not wanting to waste a second more you gestured to the band of Mikey's shorts, "Is this ok?" And once he nodded you pulled the string loose letting them fall to the ground with his boxers soon following.

Unsurprisingly he was smaller than Draken but he was thicker than you'd imagined. Pretty in both size and color with a much more rounded tip than Draken.

You looked up to Mikey's face. His attention elsewhere as you wrapped a warm hand around the base of his cock. "It's so pretty." You mumbled with a giggle when that gorgeous pink took full color against his cheeks. "I want to put it in my mouth. Can I?"

The bob of Mikey's Adam's apple didn't go unnoticed by you. The way sweat was already starting to appear on his forehead making you smile as he silently moved his hips closer to your mouth.

The hiss that slipped past his lips when you pressed your tongue to his tip and circled it gathering the precum sliding down was precious. And it dawned on you as if you hadn't remembered before that this was Mikey's first blow job.

The famous Mikey was getting his first right here and now. It pushed you further, you left wet open mouthed kisses all over his shaft before letting every sweet inch of him into your mouth. Delicately and steadily over his shaft till you were kissing his pelvic bone.

Never in all the years you had known Mikey had you ever seen him be so cute. His mouth was open for every panting breath he could muster trying and failing to catch his breath. His cheeks an even deeper pink than before and his eyes shut impossibly tight.

He reached out for the back of the sofa as you slowly pulled your mouth back before edging him all the way down your throat again.

"Oh God.." He choked out

Draken's laugh was boisterous the hand that was on his cock now slapped over his mouth as he tried to contain himself. "Darling you can't see from this angle but his face is perfect." He grins

You know it's bad when the only response Mikey gives to this is a loud gasp. His nails digging into the cushions behind you with a heavy grunt.

Draken leaned forward twisting his fingers into your hair gently to guide your head back and forth a little faster. "You look gorgeous, keep going."

Mikey's whimpers fill your ears and spit trickles over your lips. Your tongue swirling over the prominent veins at the base of his cock as you work him up with just your mouth. Curses flying off his lips at an exponentially higher rate.

"Doesn't she have such an amazing mouth?" Draken groaned hand resuming its earlier work.

Mikey could only hum lost in bliss with each thrust of his hips. He managed to angle himself deeper down your throat, reaching out to card strands of your hair back as well as he pushes his cock as far as it could go.

"Shit.. sh-it I think I'm gonna.."

Draken pulled your lips off surprisingly harshly. Fingers still deep in your hair as he guided your thighs open for Mikey. Cum from Draken's earlier orgasm still stained your thighs as Draken pushed Mikey forward by the small of his back.

The angle was kind of weird, especially for a first time but it did help Mikey align better and slowly but surely he was pushing inside. The fill of his cock pressing inside of you left you feeling a bit dazed and your eyes fluttered close. Nails finding purchase on his shoulder blades.

His forehead soon met yours, hitched breaths from his lips flush against your face. "Shit.." He heaved almost breathless.

"Yeah she'll do that to you." Draken grinned. You couldn't tell if it was your heartbeat or his pounding in your ear but you soon regained enough consciousness to wrap your legs around his waist.

"You ok?" He asked, eyelids fluttering open.

"Yeah. Feels good." You reply with a concentrated breath.

Mikey's hand slammed down against the couch cushion as he slowly began to move sucked in by your warm cunt. Every inch of his dick snug inside you. In a way that was so different from the earlier feeling of your mouth.

"Mikey.." You huffed trying not to lose it completely whenever he bottomed out. He wasn't long enough to touch your cervix but every inch of him was so obviously present inside you. Grazing your walls like they were built just for his cock.

"Angle your hips to the right a little." You could hear Draken's voice. All deep and husky like it always got when he was in the mood.

Mikey did as he was told, adjusting his hips till his dick perfectly pressed into your g-spot. You couldn't help it now your head falling back and your thighs shaking when he thrusted right into that spot.

"God.. f-uck.." Mikey grunted

"You're doing so well.." You mewled brushing his blond hair back where it was starting to stick to his face. "It feels.. s'good.."

Your thighs tensed as he started to speed up a tremble setting in his shoulders. You already knew what that meant. Bringing a hand under his chin to pull his lips into yours. The sounds of both Mikey and Draken settling in your ears as you felt the beginnings of the coil tightening in your stomach.

"Mm gonna cum.." Mikey moaned

The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you had you gripping him like a lifeline and he did the same. His arms wrapped around your waist as he emptied himself inside your fluttering walls.

"Oh God.." You sighed

His body continued to tremble, eyes far gone as you held his face to look at him. "You ok?" You giggled, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Draken was right about your pussy." Mikey grins

"Oh my God you told the guys?!" You pick up a pillow next to you chucking it at your boyfriend.

"I only told Mikey that part." Draken replies catching the flying projectile. "Hurry up and finish. This shits getting painful."

"Finish?" You're cut off by Mikey slowly pressing all the way back inside you. "You didn't get to cum." He whispers into your ear. His knee slides onto the couch next to you, guiding your hips against his cock.

Your head banging against the cushions behind you with each of his rough thrusts. Breaths short where they're falling off your lips. You don't miss the way Mikey's eyes clench shut, the way his teeth ungrit trying and failing to keep his noises quiet.

Your once messy and now unruly and missmanaged hair slips from the tie you'd once used to hold it. Strands falling over your face and into your eyes and collecting with the sweat present on every inch of your face.

Draken's groan came from the pits of his throat as he squeezed the tip of his cock in his fist. "I'm gonna cum." He warned, warmth spread through your stomach as you watched the tensing of his body soon followed by his thick cum shooting up only to return to earth. Coating his fists in liquid.

His dark eyes shut as he breathed through his orgasm with a deep sigh.

You cursed under your breath issuing your own word of warning as your thighs clenched around Mikey's waist. "Don't stop.." You pleaded, hands heavy on Mikey's shoulders as you pulled his body closer.

"I won't."

The coil in your stomach soon settled as your release coated Mikey's pelvic region slicking his cock as you cried out. A sense of familiarity soon falling over you as you watched the same build of intensity forming in Mikey.

The roll of Mikey's eyes utterly intoxicating as his hips stuttered forward with a breathy moan for the first bit of his orgasm. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his own hair a complete mess as he released deep inside of you completely losing control of his hips.

"Fuck Mikey.."

Mikey finally pulled out leaving his cum to ooze out of your used pussy as Draken stood from the end of the couch, heading for the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" You asked

"We need chips right? For Mario kart?" Draken called

"Yay we're still playing!" Mikey bounces like he's not still completely naked and didn't just finish fucking you.

"Of course we're still playing. That was the whole point of today." Draken replies

"You don't want to shower first?" You gesture to his cum covered chest and thighs.

"Like all together?" Mikey asks

"Nevermind let's just play."

#tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader smut #draken x reader smut #draken smut #mikey smut #draken x reader x mikey

[miraculouspenta]

Different Limits

Original Idea by @jinx-jade​​

Thanks to @moonlitceleste​ for beta reading :D

'What have I done,' Damian thought. Dick was lying on the floor with an arm that was clearly broken. He had surprised Damian with a hug from behind, triggering his instinct to attack. Damian had reacted by twisting his arm, resulting with Dick being on the floor. Jason entered the door when he heard Dick’s shriek of pain. "WHAT THE F*CK, DAMIAN!" he shouted when he saw Dick. His whole family had scolded him, Bruce had benched him for a whole two months, and Alfred had given him a disappointed stare.

Damian couldn't stand it. Not anymore.

He snapped.

He had tried, he really had.

But it was never enough.

As the heir to the Demon's Head, attacking at unknown touch has been burned into him. Touch had always meant danger. It was second nature to him now. Unfortunately, his family did not know nor do they understand. Two years of constant reminders that he had done terrible things. Two years of constant reminders that he was merely a killing machine. Two years of greater expectations, both in standard and amount. He had enough.

Damian said goodbye to his pets and ran.

After a good hour of running, he dropped into an alley and cried.

In his vulnerable state, he didn't see a man creep up. A man holding a gun. The unknown adult was planning to kidnap the boy, but as soon as his hands reached Damian, he reacted. He flipped the man over his shoulder like what he did to Dick earlier. But in his state, it didn't affect much. The man pulled out a knife and stabbed him in his side. It ended the fight.

The kidnapper ended up running away, leaving a heavily injured Damian to slowly watch the world as his vision turned black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette, who had just finished some business with Superman, decided to take a walk in Gotham before going home. Along the way, she spotted a boy covered in blood as she crossed an alleyway. He was already unconscious, and Marinette knew she couldn't just leave him there. So she opened a portal and went through it and carried the boy in her hands. She laid him down in her spare room and left to get her medical supplies.

Approximately six hours later, the boy woke up. His eyes scanned the room as he tried to up and leave. Limping, he tried to head to the window. "Hi sweetie, you need to calm down," Marinette’s soft voice said as she walked slowly to the boy., "You should be resting; moving might agitate your injuries." The boy just stared at her. Marinette stood up slowly and walked over. "May I?" she asked, reaching for his hand. When he nodded, she carefully took his hand and led him to the bed. Once there, she helped Damian into a comfortable position. "Do you have anyone you can call?" she questioned. When he didn't answer, she simply nodded her head and asked him what he would like to eat.

Damian ended up staying for three weeks because Marinette refused to let him leave until he was fully healed. The twelve year old grew closer to the woman. Once healed, he confessed that he has nowhere to stay. Marinette took the information in stride and told him he was more than welcome to stay with her. And stay he did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living with Marinette was incredible. Unlike his grandfather and his father, she didn't place any expectations on him. At one point, he slipped and called her mom. Damian had froze after he said that, scared of how she would react. It ended up with Marinette asking him whether or not he would mind her adopting him. Damian happily agreed and they soon got the paperwork done. (Chloe is conveniently Marinette’s lawyer). Damian wore the Dupain-Cheng name with pride. As Grand Guardian, Marinette took it upon herself to teach Damian magic. Starting with glamour, they covered the basics of magic.

Two weeks after the adoption, while reading the daily news, Damian came across an article on the front page.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Daily Planet

BREAKING NEWS!!

Not more than six weeks ago, twelve year old Damian Wayne was reported missing. The only biological child of Bruce Wayne was suspected to have ran away for an unknown reason. He was last seen running to his room before he left. “Maybe I was a little too harsh,” Bruce Wayne admitted, “But this isn’t the first time I had to ground him because he wasn’t able to control his strength.” The young boy had somehow managed to flip Richard John Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s eldest, when he had surprised him with a hug. “Damian and I may not get along, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care,” Tim Drake, co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises said.

Damian Wayne is a tan boy with dark hair and striking green eyes. He weighs around 90 lbs at 4’9 ft tall. Currently, he is twelve years old. Multiple search parties have been launched. I myself know Damian personally from all the times he has visited my son. If you find the boy, please contact xx-xxx-xxx-xxx and we will get to you as soon as possible.

- Clark Kent

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After reading, Damian had a breakdown. Marinette rushed in when she heard the sobs of her child. She didn’t say anything and instead she approached slowly wrapping him in her arms. She let him cry as she rubbed his back and once he calmed down, he told her his story and why he left.

“All these new expectations were just overwhelming,” he said, “‘No killing’, ‘justice not vengeance’—it’s like they were expecting me to turn back. I never wanted to hurt them, but it’s something that is a reflex now. It’s not easy to let go of a habit.” Marinette was silent throughout his whole rant. She knew how terrible Ra’s and Talia were but that didn’t make it better. She knew the Batman could be cold, but the fact that he didn’t listen and try to understand infuriated her.

“Ra’s and Talia should know not to mess with me, but if I ever see your father I can and will punch him,” she growled. Damian smiled as he nuzzled into his mother’s chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three years passed. Damian and Marinette’s bond grew stronger while the search parties grew hopeless. The Justice League was also involved; so were the Titans and the Young Justice. They concluded that Damian was either dead or hiding really well. The former option was discarded when Zatara and Zatanna had almost managed to track him, but unfortunately the spell suddenly shattered when it was nearing.

Desperate, the batfamily decided to reach out to the Grand Guardian of the Miraculous. Imagine their surprise when they saw Damian on their way to her house. When they ran to him, Damian, now fifteen, went into an alley and disappeared. They rushed to Marinette’s house and knocked. They heard hard breathing and a gentle voice trying to calm the other party down. Leaning towards the door, Dick found that it was unlocked and tumbled in.

What they saw was Damian kneeling on the floor crying in the middle of a breakdown and Marinette trying to soothe him. “Out,” Marinette glared. The boys obeyed and waited anxiously. The person that they had been searching for was under the protection of the Guardian all this time. It made sense why even both Zatara and Zatanna couldn’t track him down.

An hour later, Marinette opened the door telling them to come in and wait. She took some water and placed them on her coffee table saying that Damian was taking a shower. As soon as she sat down the boys began to fire questions. They stopped after a good fifteen minutes and noticing that Marinette wasn’t saying anything. “I know why Damian ran away, yes, but it is not my place to say. I can ask him later, and I will not say anything without his permission. But I will say this,” Marinette said, voice colder than ice, “You f*cked up.” Marinette stood up to check on Damian. “By the way,” she stopped for a moment, “I adopted him three years ago.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian ended up being the one to tell them everything. Everything from why he ran away to why he decided to stay. The Waynes felt bad; they hadn’t even bothered thinking about his perspective. Looking back, Jason and Bruce realized what Damian had said about the League was true. “I’m- We’re sorry Damian,” Dick apologized. “Are you willing to come back?”

“No,” he said. The Waynes were visibly saddened.

“But I am willing to start over.”

1445 words

I had tons of fun writing this fic, hope you guys like it

~Leen

@animegirlweeb @battybatbat @crystalangelluna @dorkus-minimus @galaxylightmoon  @iglowinggemma28  @insane-fangirl-of-everything  @jayjayspixiepop​ @jjmjjktth​ @karukofox21​ @lunathealphafemale​ @megaafangirl​ @miraculouslydumb​ @myazael​ @nickristus-dreamer​ @our-preciousss​ @samiamack​ @sh31bin0​ @user00000003​ @waffleyunsure​

#maribat #mominette

[sunmoonandeddie]

have you seen baby?

pairing: bucky barnes x reader x natasha romanoff

word count: 3,196

summary: You and your two lovers haven’t gotten to spend much time together.  Also, sex pollen.

warnings: Bad words.  Filthy, filthy smut.  Sex pollen.

a/n:  Thank you so much to @cake-writes for this commission!  I loved writing it and I really hope you enjoy it!

It’s late.  

Well.  Relatively late.  Nearing three in the afternoon, and Natasha hadn’t seen you.  Of course, that barred that morning when she woke up to your pretty face still sleeping beside her.  Unfortunately, Bucky was on a mission, otherwise she’d get to see his equally as pretty face on your other side.  It was disappointing.  There was just something so sweet about waking up to the two loves of her life.

But now, it was almost three, and you hadn’t even emerged from your lab for lunch.

Which is why she headed down two floors to the huge lab that you, Tony, and Bruce shared.  You kind of played as an inbetween for the both of them, wanting to know it all and then some.  It was precious.

But it also meant that you had a bad habit of getting lost in your work and not emerging for hours or sometimes days.  You had been getting better about it, if only because Bucky and Natasha were always on your ass about it.

Which is only because they love you.  So much.  Like.  So so much.

“Have you seen Baby?” Natasha asked Sam, who was wandering through the kitchen after his workout.

He had a protein shake in his hand, sweat dripping from his brow.  “No, can’t say I have.  And you know you can call her by her name when it comes to other people, right?”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look.  “Her name is Baby.”

“To you.”

“To Bucky and me,” she retorted.  “And besides, she doesn’t even respond to her name when it’s coming from us anymore.”  A small smile crept up on her lips.  “It’s adorable.”  But she was on a mission.  She had a little box that came in with the mail that’s a present just for you.

And sometimes Bucky, depending on how he was feeling.

But Natasha didn’t like being touched.  She liked to give, but never to receive.  Her therapist said it had to do with the various traumas that she’d taken on while growing up in the Red Room.  Her body had never been her own during that time.  She’d been hurt over and over and over again, to the point where someone touching her body in a sexual way sent her into a panic attack.

Bucky was mostly the same way.  He had a hard time with sexual touch, though he’d gotten a lot better about it.

It was just one of those things that Natasha had to deal with.  Not that it was hard.  She loved taking care of you with Bucky’s help.  Their little pillow princess.

You were always the smart girl.  Some could argue that you were smarter than both Bruce Banner and Tony Stark simply because you knew both fields and then some.  You tended to become… obsessed.  You had to know more about everything just for the sake of knowing more.  But with that, your mind was always going a million miles an hour.  Which is why when it came to the bedroom, it was really nice to just be able to let go and not think for a while.  You got to be their dumb little baby girl.  It was always about you when it came to sex.

When it came to who needed cuddles and affection, that was when it was their turn.  You slept in the middle of them, cradled between them like a precious pearl.  You fought off their nightmares for them, their fears.  You made them see that they were more than the weapons they had been crafted into.  You provided relief for each other in different ways.

Before you had come along, Bucky and Natasha’s love had been volatile.  They were missing a piece of the puzzle, even if they hadn’t realized it.

And then their precious little princess had been hired on as a scientist, and their lives were forever changed.  They knew immediately that you were the one for them, their missing piece.

Of course, it had taken a while to get you to understand just what they wanted.  You might be the smartest in the lab, but when it came to relationships…

Which is what brought her to today.  You’d been a little… off lately.  Of course, that could be because her and Bucky had been on back to back missions for the past few months.  There hadn’t been a lot of time for the three of you all together, which was always frustrating.  It was the longest amount of time the three of you hadn’t gotten to all be together since becoming a triad.

And they felt even worse when they both had to leave on missions and leave you all by your lonesome.

Maybe they’d get you a kitten.  You wouldn’t have time for a puppy, but a cat?  You’d love that.  A little lab buddy.  Or maybe they’d get you one of those senior cats with three legs that was deaf in one ear.  Yeah, you’d love that.

But then it would die a lot quicker than a kitten, and they’d have to pick up the pieces because that would destroy you.  But then you’d also be so happy that you got to give the cat a really good few years at the end.

Whatever.  She’d talk to Bucky about it when he got home and they could make a decision.

But the little box.

The elevator down to the lab seemed to take forever, the silence mocking her since Tony absolutely hated elevator music and refused to let it play in the Tower.  But was even more unsettling was the fact that you weren’t in the lab.

“Hey, have you seen Baby?” Natasha asked Tony, who was fiddling with something on his tablet.

“It’s still weird that you call her that to everyone.”

“It’s her name.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Her name is—”

“Baby,” Natasha said, glaring at him.  “Yes, I know.  Have you seen her?”

“You disgust me.”  The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.  “I think she went down to the spare testing room.  Something about an unknown vapor.”

An unknown vapor?  You hadn’t mentioned that.  Then again, you’d been kinda quiet lately.

She headed down another few floors, bearing the silence as she went through a mental list of things she needed to get done.  It was your birthday soon.  She needed to make sure all three of you could get off, and she’d plan something really special.  You deserved it.

The testing room you’re in has all floor to ceiling windows for walls, but she can’t see you.

“Strange,” she muttered under her breath.  She headed for the doors, and her eyes widened as she saw you through the glass.

You were lying on the ground, sweat dripping from your brow, with your hand in your pants.  From the… rapid way your hand was moving, there was no mistaking what was happening.

But why the hell were you touching yourself right there where anyone could walk by and see you?!  Not that she didn’t like it.  She loved watching you touch yourself and she often ordered you to when she was in a dominating mood.  It was so much fun watching you edge yourself.

No, it was the whole public thing that was confusing her.

You looked up as she started to push the doors open, her eyes widening.  “N-Natasha, no!” You shouted.

But it was too late.  A sickly sweet substance filled her nose, and seconds later, she felt a strange heat creeping up over her.  What the hell was happening?  And why did her skin feel so warm?

“N-Natasha,” you whimpered, rolling on your side.  Your fingers were still rubbing desperately at your clit, trying to find some kind of release.  “Nattie, it hurts.  It hurts.  M-Make it stop.”

And god damn it.  Her precious lover begging her to make whatever it was stop hurting?  She was gonna figure out a way to make it stop hurting.

She crawled towards her, frowning as she saw a broken test tube on the floor.  “What the hell is this?”  She couldn’t read the label on it, the ink smeared.  Tossing it to the side, she finally made it to you.  “W-What hurts, Baby?  What hurts?”

Your glassy eyes were wild as your hips bucked up in the air, a vein on your forehead popping out.  “F-Fuck me.  Fuck me, Nattie, please,” she begged, whining desperately.  “Oh, my god, I need it.  I need it.  Please.”

“H-Here?  Baby, wha—”

“Natasha, please, I am literally beg… begging you.  Please,” you cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Well.  It’s a good thing she brought the box with her.  She ripped it open, pulling out the new harness that she ordered with it.  “Okay.  Okay, angel, but you gotta let me get my strap on, okay?”  She asked sweetly as she stripped down.  She didn’t care who saw.  She had to help her baby girl.

Your response of a weak whimper only made her go faster.

She practically ripped off your clothes, a groan tearing its way out of her throat as she spread your legs.  You were so wet it was obscene, your poor little clit swollen.

“Oh, pretty girl,” she cooed as she ran her fingers through your slick folds, slipping two in with ease.  “You didn’t ask permission to touch yourself, sweetheart…  But I think I can let this time slide…”  With her one free hand, she pulled the new dildo out of its packaging, smirking at the whimper that escaped your lips as you saw it.

It was pretty.  Really pretty.  Eight inches, made of that realistic feeling silicone, and a gorgeous opal color.  Her and Bucky ordered it especially with you in mind, since opals are your favorite.

“N-Natasha, please…”  You grinded against her fingers, your pussy clenching as you tried to get more.

“Oh, good girl…  You look so pretty, Baby.”  She used her one hand to attach the dildo to the harness, her eyes flicking back and forth between the heat between your legs and her fumbling fingers as she finally got it secure.  She ran it through your folds, getting it nice and slicked up.

That’s when the doors opened again, the familiar sound of size twelve boots coming towards them.  “What the hell is that smell and why are you two—”  Bucky broke off as he felt the heat.  “Oh, shit.”

Natasha grinned as she looked over at Bucky.  They were both clearly feeling the heat that the mysterious substance had caused, but not nearly as bad as you were.  “I caught our little baby touching herself without permission… out where anyone could walk by and see her.”

The third member of your triad was already working on undoing his belt, tearing it off so quickly that it ripped a few of his belt loops, leaving little holes in his pants.  “Has our baby been a little naughty?” He asked as he stripped down, kicking off his boots.  He grasped your face with his metal hand, the cool digits a welcome reprieve to the heat that had overwhelmed you.  “Princess, have you been a bad girl?  Huh?”  He lightly slapped your cheek, just enough to get you to answer.  “When I ask a question, I expect an answer, sweetheart.”

You nodded, whining as you nuzzled your head against his cool hand, the angle hurting your neck a little since you were still on your back.  “Yes.  Yes, Bucky.  I’ve been so bad, I’m so sorry…”  You looked up at him with glittering eyes, your cheeks tear stained.  “I need you.  Please.”

His blue eyes were soft as he leaned down, stealing a soft kiss from your swollen lips.  “What’s your safeword, Baby?” He asked, his free hand wrapping around his swollen cock.

“Bracelet.”

“And if you can’t talk?” Natasha probed, still sliding her strap through your folds.

Your hand wrapped around Bucky’s wrist, squeezing twice.

“Good girl,” he said, kissing you once more.  His strong hands flipped you over easily, placing you on your hands and knees.

Almost immediately after, Natasha’s hand came down on your ass, causing you to jerk forward.  “You better suck Bucky’s cock, Baby,” she said as a smirk curled up the edges of her lips.  “If you want me to fuck you, you better put that pretty mouth to good use.”

“But—”

“Did she stutter, angel?” Bucky asked as he grabbed her chin, forcing you to look up at him.  “Tasha gave you an order.  Are you going to be a good girl and listen?”  His flesh thumb ran over your plump bottom lip.  “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for us?  Huh?”

Fuck.  Yeah, you did.  You always wanted to be a good girl for your two lovers.

Matching moans fell from Bucky and Natasha’s mouths as your tongue flicked out to slide up his length, circling around the head.  You always gave absolutely filthy head, your eyes watering as you choked around his length.

As you took him all the way, Natasha slid her strap into your wet heat, all the way to the hilt.  You let out a choked moan, your eyes wide as she started to thrust in and out of you.  Her fingers dug into your hips deliciously, the acrylics she kept at a relatively short length leaving little crescent moon indents.  You loved it.  The pain felt so fucking good.

“We should’ve made you wear your butt plug, Baby.”  Bucky’s jaw clenched as he reached to gather some of your slick on his finger, before circling it around your tight hole.  “Could’ve had you waiting for us to fuck you proper while I was on a mission all week…”

Natasha’s hips slammed against yours as she pressed her lips to Bucky’s.  “We don’t use the diamond one enough considering how much we paid for it.”

You pulled off of Bucky’s cock with a pop, glaring at the two of them.  “Is this the time to be talking about how often we use the butt plug?”

“Did I say you could stop sucking my cock?” Bucky growled as he grabbed your face and started throat-fucking you.  “It’s been too long since we put you in your place, angel.  You’re getting mouthy.”

“She’s always been mouthy.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Natasha and Bucky’s thrusts sent waves of pleasure through you.  The heat that had consumed your body was faded, and all you could think about was making your doms feel good.

All the background noise that had been in your mind over the past few weeks was gone, drowned out by the praises coming from your lovers.  All the self-doubt that coursed through your mind was gone when they loved you like this.

You choked around Bucky’s cock as you came suddenly, the release coming over you like a wave.

It only seemed to spur them on more as Natasha fucked you that much harder, Bucky’s fingers scratching soothingly against your scalp as he got closer and closer to the edge.  You could always tell when he was close by the way his thrusts got more and more sloppy.

Natasha’s hand reached down and around to rub your clit, the pretty opal dildo sliding in and out of you with ease.  She wished she had her phone if just so she could record the moans falling from you and Bucky’s mouths.

Hell, she’d make it her fucking ringtone.

It wasn’t long before Bucky came with a shout, spilling down your throat.

He groaned, his head falling back as he felt you licking him clean.  He let you finish before pulling out, getting on his knees and kissing you sweetly.

Your eyes were dazed, a little bit of cum you hadn’t swallowed dribbling out of your mouth.  You looked so damn pretty like that.  Dumb from pleasure.

“You gonna cum again for us, Baby?” He asked sweetly, holding your face in his hands.

A nod, your lips starting to move to form words but not quite getting there.  Adorable.

He watched it coming.  Watched as your breath hitched and your eyes rolled back in your head before you let out a cry.  You blacked out as your second orgasm ripped through you, violently like an earthquake.  A force of nature.

“Seriously?  In the lab?!” Tony demanded, glaring at them from the entrance.  “What the hell happened?!”

Bucky and Natasha were very blasé faire about their own nudity, but they didn’t like anyone else seeing you.  The redhead reached for the little test tube that she’d tossed to the side when she’d first gotten there as he covered you up with his leather jacket, cradling your exhausted body to his chest.  He pressed soft kisses to your forehead as he rocked you back and forth.

“I think it was whatever was in this,” Natasha said as she looked at it curiously, trying to make out what the writing on the label was.  “... Sexus… Pollinis?”

Tony grumbled as he walked over and grabbed the tube, looking it over.  “It’s literally Latin for sex pollen.  Which probably means exactly what we think.”

“Is that what the smell in the air was?” Bucky asked.

Natasha nodded.  “I think most of it spilled on her, which is why she was so affected but we weren’t.”

“Okay.  I’ll… clean all this stuff up,” Tony said.  “Get her out of here and in a bed.  Or a bath.”  He shook his head as he started to call for the robots that mopped the floor.  “Animals.”

You came to in your shared room, curled up between them in your giant tub.  “Wha’ happened?”

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky cooed, his fingers massaging your sore shoulders.  “How do you feel?”

For some reason, you started crying.  It just came over you.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Natasha said, cupping your face and wiping your tears.  “Baby, what’s going on?  Huh?  Talk to us…”

“I-I’ve just been f-feeling so alone a-and this is the first time w-we’ve all been together in two m-months,” you whimpered in a shattered glass voice, barely able to string together a full sentence through your hiccups.  “A-And you’ve been gone s-so often that all I can think is m-maybe I’m j-just here because you’re both d-dominants and needed a s-s-submissive!”

Bucky and Natasha’s faces both fell and they squeezed you that much closer to them.

“Oh, Baby, no,” Natasha said.  Her heart hurt as she realized that that’s why you’ve been so off lately.  “We love you so much.  So, so much.”

“I think it’s time we stopped going on so many missions anyway, Baby,” Bucky added, his fingers tickling up and down your back.  “I’m tired of not being home with my girls.”

“Really?” You asked softly, looking at him like he’d just told you he’d give you the moon.

“Yeah,” Natasha said, bringing your hand to her lips.  She pressed a kiss to your left ring finger as her eyes met Bucky’s, a knowing look on his face.  Maybe soon there’d be a ring on that finger.  “Really, Baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader x natasha romanoff #bucky x reader x natasha

[donutloverxo]

First time

Kinktober day 15 - Virginity kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - So anon asked for step dad Steve and I can't do that to Steve. This started out as step dad ransom but then me being me couldn't go through with it🤦‍♀️ so he's supposed to be your stepmoms husband which still makes him your step dad, I think.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Warnings - 18+ONLY! smut(m/f), dub conish, painful sex, unprotected sex, implied age gap, loss of virginity, bloodplay.

Pairing - Step dad!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 2.3k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

“Oh! Don’t act like you care. I can tell you wouldn’t give a shit if I left for an entire year. I’m not one of your barely legal bimbos you can manipulate however you like,” Karen ranted on and on to Ransom. You didn’t know what they were fighting about today - you didn’t care to find out either.

“God! Would you fucking give me a break? All you do is yap your trap all day long,” he snapped at her.

You looked at the main door, to leave your house you would have to go through the hallway where both of them were having their ‘lively' discussion, which you had no intentions to be a part of.

Karen gave him a deadly glare - which literally gave you chills even though you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

She walked closer to him, until she was only inches away from his face, “For your own good,” wrapping her palm around his chiselled jaw “don’t forget your place. You do not curse at me or yell at me.”

He didn’t say anything back, simply holding her unwavering glare.

She looked at the stairs, her face instantly lighting up into a faux smile upon seeing you. “Darling, what are you doing there? Come here,” she said extending an arm to you. You walked down to her, she engulfed you into a hug, soothing a hand over your head, “Mommy has to go away for a while, to Paris for fashion week. I know that’s not something you’d be interested in.”

You shook your head. No, those events were a bit too stuffy for you. You dared to sneak a glance at Ransom, he was fuming. His jaw clenched hard, his face and neck flushed as he heaved. You weren’t sure if that rage was directed towards you or your stepmother.

“Fuck this shit,” he spit before leaving and slamming the door behind him. You cringed at the loud noise it made. You were relieved that he was gone, given what he had done in his impulsivity and rage, you didn’t want to be around him when he was that angry.

“Well?” Karen’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You better not be going to meet that Jack or John or whatever.”

“His names Jeremy, Karen, and I really like him. If you got to know him - ”

“I don’t need to know him. He does not bring anything to the table. He doesn’t even deserve to breathe in the same air as you.”

“A rich guy can treat me badly too. I don’t know why you think I can’t be happy with a normal person.” you shook your head. She of all people should not be questioning your taste in men.

“His fathers a fucking high school teacher, honey,” she scoffed. “No, I won’t have you dating a nobody.”

“Well, Ransoms a friggin' murderer!” you screamed. “What kind of man conspires to kill his own grandfather?!”

She had married him just months after he was declared 'not guilty' of not one, but TWO murders. Although, everyone knew that he definitely did it.

You begged her not to marry him. But she seemed to be completely smitten with him, besides she had never really valued your opinion or seen you as an adult.

“Say what you will about Ransom. But he has the name - he’s a Thrombey, he comes from old money. As annoying as he can be - he’s not hideous to look at either, I suppose.”

That was the only thing you might be inclined to agree with. You hated that some part of you was attracted to him. Even though, he was a terrible person. He treated ‘the help', the people who raised you and cared for you as if they were beneath him.

He treated Karen like shit - which she may deserve, you knew of her affairs and the one French boyfriend she was visiting under the guise of business.

He was however, completely indifferent to you. He never got in your way, sometimes you could feel his eyes on you, following every move you made. Sometimes you wondered... if maybe... some part of him found you attractive as well.

You knew you weren’t much to look at, especially compared to your stepmother, but then why else would he be staring so much?

Was he plotting to OFF you as well? To get you out of his way. You’d be inheriting most of your late fathers estate.

***

You closed the door behind you, as quietly as you could so as not to wake anyone. You got home a little later than midnight. You weren’t used to staying out that long but it was one of your best friends birthday.

“What were you doing out so late?” You yelped as you heard his voice.

“Ransom! Oh my gosh, you scared me,” you tried to catch your breathe.

“It’s after twelve. Who were you out with?” he raised a brow. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

“Huh?” you looked down at your bodycon dress. You weren’t used to wearing clothes that tight but this one just seemed so pretty and perfect to capture Jeremy’s attention. “It’s Karen’s design,” you shrugged. It was provocative but classy and respectable which was your stepmothers brand.

“What kind of message do you think you’re sending dressing like that? If you want to be the talk of the town - ”

“Ransom, oh my god! It’s just a dress and I’m - I’m a virgin!” you confessed. It wasn’t something you were ashamed of - why would you be?

“What?” his eyes widened and his mouth gaped.

He had known you were a pretty little thing since the moment he met you. So shy and demure and pure. Of course you’d be a virgin. Like a perfect present waiting to be unwrapped.

You almost smiled at that. Stunning Ransom like that made you feel smug for some reason. “Yeah. I’m saving myself for the right guy.” you replied in a small voice, averting his gaze and looking at the carpet.

He took two long strides and walked over to you, before you knew it he had a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you against his hard chest. “And what’s the right guy like, sweetheart?”

“Someone - uh,” your brain blanked, having him that close to you, feeling his warm breath on your face almost made you black out.

He bent his neck till he was closer to your ear, “Well, don’t lose it to Jeremy or whatever. He won’t even know what to do with a sweet thing like you.”

You gasped, trying to push him away but his stance was unrelenting. “That is so inappropriate, Ransom! You’re married!”

He grabbed at your failing wrists, pinning them behind your back, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Karen and I have an arrangement. You ever been kissed before?” he asked, his tongue peaking out to kick his plump lips.

“Wh - ” you swallowed a heavy lump of air, looking away from him, “No,” tears streaming down your face.

He chuckled, licking a firm stripe up your cheek, moaning at the taste of your tears. “We’ll fix that tonight, princess.”

You shuddered in his hold, it finally hit you. He intended to have his way with you. “Karen!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

“She’s not home, sweetheart,” he smirked, pushing his knee between your legs, “I thought you wanted this? I heard you saying my name while touching yourself. I’ll do better than your little fingers ever could,” he grinded his knee against your core.

You whimpered, scared out of your mind for your life and ashamed. Ashamed of being caught, of being aroused and getting more and more wetter. Your hips rolling against his knee to seek more friction.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth till it hurt and then releasing it with a pop. “If you keep being good and take what I give you - I’ll make you feel good too.” He held on to your forearm, dragging you up the stairs towards his room.

“No, no... not in your room. In mine, please,” you whimpered, his nails digging in the flesh of your arm. They might have an 'arrangement' but you doubted Karen would appreciate you doing the deed in her bed.

“Fine with me,” he dragged you along, locking your door behind him as he pushed you down on your mattress.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, quickly discarding all his clothes. You couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle him. His broad shoulders, defined chest and abs. He was bigger than any boy you knew. Your jaw dropped at the size of his cock, slapping against his abdomen when he pulled down his boxers.

“Like what you see, princess?” he smirked.

Hovering over you, his hands tearing your dress apart, you feebly tried to stop him, “That was expensive, Ransom!”

“I can just buy you another one,” he winked, rolling your panties down your legs.

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, with my own money.

Your arms flew up to your naked chest and mound, to cover up and save your modesty.

He growled, pulling them away and pressing them on the mattress above you. “These better fucking stay here all night, understood?”

You were too afraid to do anything but nod.

“Never popped anyone’s cherry before... this should be interesting,” he snaked a hand between your bodies, pinching your clit causing you to jerk away from him.

He didn't bother fingering you or preparing you, he knew you'd be tighter without it - he had about enough of foreplay anyway.

“Please, be gentle,” you requested, looking up at him through your doe eyes, pleading him - you had never felt so utterly helpless.

He cruelly laughed at your misery, his lips curled up in a devilish smirk, “I don't do gentle, kitten. You'll take what I fucking give you - ” he growled positioning himself between your legs, brushing his leaking tip over your chaste, untouched folds “and then thank me for it. Like the slut you are.”

You couldn't even begin to grasp or point out the logical fallacy of a virgin slut as his cock plunged into your heat, piercing through your virginity, splitting you in half.

Your back arched off the bed, you slapped your hands over your mouth to keep from screaming. It was painful, that was all you felt - pain. As he held onto your waist, his fingers digging in your flesh, his hips pulling out and then driving into you with an unrelenting pace.

You could not stop crying, or twisting your head from side to side. Knowing it was all you could do - he wouldn’t stop - no matter how much you pleaded. You weren’t sure you wanted him to stop.

He pressed a few kisses and nips to the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot as you held back a moan.

He propped himself up on his elbows to look down at you, your eyes and nose swollen, your make up running down your face - you looked more beautiful than you ever had before.

“You look so pretty when you cry, kitten,” he cooed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

He kept driving his cock into you, searching for that special spot as you kept mewling under him.

His heart swelled with pride, nobody’s ever fucked you before, he’s the first man that’s ever seen you naked or to be inside you.

“Do you want me to stop?” he stilled his hips, “Just say the word then.” He knew you wouldn’t.

You sniffled, shaking your head, “No, keep going, please.”

His lips curled up in a grin, taking some kind of twisted pleasure in your misery, “You’re something else, kitten.”

“Oh,” you closed your eyes, your toes curling, your legs holding onto his waist as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you.

Ransom leaned over you when he felt your heat convulsing around him, pulling your earlobe between his teeth, “This is the tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked,” he grunted, driving each word home with a powerful thrust. “You like that, kitten?”

All you could do was nod, the pain was well as much more subdued now but you were still sore and exhausted. “Yes, I like it.”

“We’re going to do this every night from now on.”

He pulled out fisting his cock over you - he wasn’t going to impregnate his newest plaything - his white, hot spend painting your stomach and titts.

Your fingers swirled the sticky substance around on your skin, you were curious to see what it tasted like. You clenched your legs shut, your pussy still tingly. This was not how you planned your first time to go but you had no regrets.

You knew you were absolutely wrong to think so but being desired by Ransom gave you a strange kind of pride.

You gasped when you heard a click, sitting up on your elbows you looked at Ransom clicking pictures of your pussy with his phone.

“Wh - what’re you doing?” you tried to close your legs but he kept a firm hand on your knee.

“Just need a souvenir,” he responded, taking some more of his cum on your body and then putting his phone in his pocket. He swirled a finger around the blood on your inner thigh, bringing it up to paint the crimson on your mouth, “Go clean yourself up. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You smiled as he kissed you, “Okay, Ransom.”

Even with your pussy freshly fucked - you couldn’t wait for his next visit.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

#kinktober #ransom drysdale x you #ransom x reader #ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale #knives out fanfic #berrys kinktober #berry writes

[huntergatherercreator]

The Takedown | Part Fifteen

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader

Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.

Warnings: Maybe a teeny bit of violence?

AN: It’s been a minute since the last part of this series was posted. I haven’t written anything since then so fingers crossed this is OK.

Catch up here: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen

Part 15 - 1,601 words

My apartment had already been too small. Now with Joe blocking the doorway and Holland practically breathing down my neck it felt tiny. Hunching closer to the laptop screen I tried to focus on the information scrolling before me. I’d pulled up the last three months worth of records detailing what cruise ships had docked and was whittling down the list slowly. There were ones we’d suspected that had already had a full background check but I couldn’t cross them off without raising suspicions.

“What’s this?” I stilled as Holland leaned over my shoulder, finger tapping at an entry. With his breath tickling my throat and the soft scent of shampoo emanating from his curls it took me a minute to focus.

“It seems like a shell company. I can try to trace it but it’ll take time.”

“How can you tell?” Suspicion was apparently his only tone tonight. I nudged out the chair beside me as an invitation. When it went ignored I twisted in my seat, intent on glaring at him until he relented, only to realise too late how close he actually was. My lips skimmed over his cheek. I could feel my colour drain as his breath caught. I made to shove back from the table but his hand caught my shoulder, holding me down.

“Trace them,” he murmured. Hands shaking slightly I pulled up a new search engine to start. Only when I started typing did he let go. Relief trickled through me but it was short lived. Dragging the offered chair to the corner of the table he slipped off his jacket and hooked it to the back before settling with crossed arms to watch me. I flicked a glance over his shoulder to Joe who threw me a wink before going back to staring out the window. Trying to shove back the humiliation I could feel creeping up my cheeks I pulled up as much as I could about the company, already knowing it’d come to a dead end.

After half an hour I read out the details I’d scribbled down, eyes firmly on my notepad as Holland questioned me. Then he chose another company. And another. On and on until we’d almost exhausted the list.

The smell of expensive coffee roused me from my notebook. I blinked and a takeaway cup appeared under my nose courtesy of Joe. I accepted it with a grateful smile and he gave me another of what was becoming his signature winks. Closing the laptop I shuffled my notes into order and put both on the counter allowing Joe to start emptying the paper bag of breakfast foods he’d bought. It wasn’t until I was up out of my chair that I realised how sore I was. Rolling my neck I rubbed at a tender spot on my shoulder with a grimace.

“Maybe you should take five to clean up?” Joe offered. My eyes automatically drifted to Holland for the first time in several hours. He looked as dishevelled as I felt. Hair unruly once again from running his hands through it every time I hit a dead end. I realised with a jolt that I was waiting for his permission.

“Good idea.” I mumbled. Quickly skirting past them both I headed for the bathroom locking the door firmly behind me. I cringed as I caught myself in the mirror. My skin was pale, tired. The tie that had been keeping my hair back had failed leaving long messy wisps falling around my face. Running the cold water I repeatedly doused my skin until I felt the last of the brain fog disappear. I needed to be on higher alert, more so than before. Holland wouldn’t keep accepting the trails going cold. There was only so long he’d sit patiently knowing Rivera was out there. I needed to find a solid lead but I wasn’t sure if I could on my own. As much as I’d learned about tracking down corrupt company details those had all been from tracing low level thugs, people who didn't have the knowledge or the money to properly cover their tracks. Rivera had both of those things. It could be damn near impossible to directly link him to anything.

A jolt ran through me. Wasn’t that exactly what Holland did? He made it impossible for anyone to get information about the next level because each of his men ran their own area. Quickly drying my face I threw open the door coming face to face with Holland.

“You and Rivera are the same,” I started the words dying in my throat as his mood visibly darkened.

“No. We’re not.” He stalked closer and it took me a second to collect my thoughts as replays of the day before hit me. My gaze flicked to the damaged wall. A reminder not to push him, no matter how much I wanted to.

“Let me finish,” I insisted, hands coming up to hold him off. “How did I find you?”

Confusion flashed before irritation settled on his face. “Stupidity, and luck.”

“No. It was through Arnold. The only way to you is through your men. It’s the same with Rivera, he-” He pressed his palms against the door frame either side of me, blocking me in.

“Why are you wasting my time? Rivera’s men don’t know where he is. If they did Joe would have gotten the information.”

“Stop interrupting me!” I shoved against his chest in frustration. He grabbed my wrists spinning me until my back was pressed against the cold tiles of the bathroom. Eyes boring into mine his jaw ticked, grip getting tighter.

“I am nothing like him.” Anger surged as we fell into the same dance we always did. Hooking a leg behind his I used his grip against him and put him on his back. A sliver of sympathy shot through me as he lost his breath but I let my anger chase it away, using it to power my arms into holding him down.

“I’m fed up with you thinking you can push me around and bully me. This,” I motioned with my head to the position we were currently in, “is the last time I have to do this. Understood?”

Eyes unreadable he nodded curtly. I cautiously let go, easing back to a sitting position, not ready to give up the upper hand just yet. When I was sure he wasn’t going to lash out I continued.

“We’re looking through the information for ties to Rivera himself. We should be looking for ties to the men we know he associates with. He’s using them as scapegoats. The companies are in their names, that way if anything goes wrong-”

“Then the trail ends with them” he finished, shoulders slumping as the realisation hit him.

“Exactly. And what better way to ensure your men’s loyalty. They’ll do everything they can to ensure their area runs smoothly because it’s their necks on the line, not his.” My smug smile was missed as he closed his eyes, hands coming up to scrub at his face.

“You didn’t sleep did you?” I asked gently. He let out a humourless laugh, his body rocking under mine. I planted my hands on his stomach to stop from falling onto him. Fingers splayed I could feel the solid muscles that made up his abdomen tensing as he shifted. The realisation of our position hit me. Mouth dry I tried to chase off the scenarios that my brain was throwing at me. I could control myself. Or so I told myself repeatedly.

“Care to let me up?” he asked, eyebrow raising as he looked pointedly at where I was touching him.

Sure he’d somehow been able to read my thoughts it took me a second to find my voice again. “It depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you can behave yourself. I meant it before, this is the last time. You’d never have figured any of this out without me.” I instinctively clenched my hands into fist. His t-shirt got tangled in my grip, tugging it up to reveal a small section of skin just above his waistband where the line of his hipbone slid out of sight. I was a hypocrite asking him to have decency when all I could think about was how much more I’d be able to expose before he stopped me.

“You’re right.” I almost lost my balance in shock at his admittance, eyes darting away from him.

“From now on you can take the lead but only when we’re alone. In front of my men you say nothing.”

I reigned in the urge to roll my eyes. Given who I was dealing with the conditions could have been a lot worse. I could handle letting him keep the facade of all knowing mob boss.

“Deal,” I agreed. “We have breakfast then I need you to get me the names of Rivera’s men. The higher their status the better. I’ll work on retracing the list from earlier and cross referencing it against them. And you, you’re going to get some sleep. It’s a waste of resources having you sit watching me. Joe can help in your place, he was the one that interrogated them anyway so he’ll know more than you do at this stage.” Reluctantly I released his clothing and pushing up to my feet. Instead of joining me he propped himself on his elbows.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, deadpan. Spinning I left him on the bathroom floor as the heat that had been simmering through me peaked. Get it together, I mentally scolded myself.

- - - - - - -

Taglist:

@spideylovin

@lukesbabylon

@panicattheeverywherekid

@keep-bears-wild

@unbelievableholland

@tomholland-mcu

@whattheheckparker

@stargazerholland

@gorillaglue23

@marvelpeters

@weirdowithnobeardo

Part 16!

#Mob!Tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland

[wandas-sunshine]

Apologies (Kinktober Day 3)

Kinktober Schedule

Prompt: Dom/sub Dynamics

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Word Count: 1,947

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Dom/sub dynamics, heavy Sir kink, corporeal punishment, oral sex (male receiving)

A/N: I don’t think I ever specified a gender for the reader, but there are uses of the terms kitten and babydoll if that ruins it for anyone. Tag list for kinktober is still open!

You’d been sitting on the sofa when Stephen came home. You could tell just by the sound of his steps that it hadn’t been a good day. You sat your book down and stood up quickly to scamper to his side.

“I’ve missed you,” You murmured, taking his coat to hang it up. “I made your favorite for dinner.”

Stephen hummed out a low rumble in his throat. A tiny smile crossed his lips, and your stomach fluttered at the small accomplishment.

“Thank you, kitten. I’ll eat later, I have some work to finish up.” He slipped past you, and you pouted at his back. That wasn’t fair, and, truth be told, it worried you. He’d been working himself too much. You trailed after him and lingered in the doorway.

“But Stephen,” You half whined. The man turned to you with an impatient huff. “You’ve already worked 16 hours today.”

Stephen set his things down and settled into a chair.

“And there’s more to be done. Now some quiet, please.” His words were final, and you were usually so obedient for him. But with your Dom’s wellbeing at stake, you had one more trick up your sleeve.

The step into the Dom/sub dynamic of your and Stephen’s relationship wasn’t the first one. You’d been together more than a year before you really gave it a thought. But now, it was all natural.

You slipped quietly into your shared room and fetched the cabinet key that laid on Stephen’s bedside table. You unlocked the cabinet tucked away into the closet and let the doors open. Inside hung all of the fun little items you and Stephen had collected. Floggers, paddles, whips, and riding crops hung on the inside. A few toys were neatly displayed, the rest organized in the drawers. But you weren’t looking for any of those. No, your coveted item was hanging right at the center of everything.

You plucked your collar down and grinned. It was a simple little thing, black leather with a heavy ring in front and a buckle at the back, but it always filled you with pride. You didn’t need anything fancy, just a reminder that you belonged to Stephen.

You made your way back to where he was working, moving to kneel at his side, your collar resting in your lap. He barely spared you a glance. You shifted closer, your hands moving to rest on his thighs, still clutching your collar.

“Did I say you could touch me?” He questioned, voice steady and uninterested. But you knew you’d won. That was only a rule during playtime. You pulled your hands back, but you left the collar settled in his lap. He picked it up, leaving his work to run his fingers over the smooth leather.

“Is there a reason you’re acting up?” He questioned. You hung your head.

“I miss you, Sir...You’ve been too busy for me.” You confessed, resisting the urge to fidget, instead keeping your palms flat on your thighs. Your words were enough to make Stephen realize how little attention he’d really been giving you, and a pit opened up in his chest. What kind of Dom was he if he didn’t spare enough time for his pretty little submissive?

“I’m sorry, babydoll. I’ll make it up to you.” He reached down to gently stroke your head. “But you can’t be breaking the rules to get Sir’s attention, can you?”

You shook your head. He patted his lap and you stood slowly. Ever impatient, he guided you to sit in his lap.

You relaxed instantly, just having missed feeling him against you. He carefully fastened the collar and gave it an experimental tug.

“How’s that feel?” He murmured in your ear. You shivered and beamed, eyes falling shut.

“Good. Thank you, Sir.” You hummed out. Stephen didn’t answer. Instead, he nudged you back onto your own two feet.

“Good. But you still need to be taught to behave. Bedroom, get the bamboo paddle.” He ordered. You squeaked. The bamboo was your favorite, and the smirk on Stephen’s face said he knew that too.

“Yes, Sir.” You scurried back to your room with a grin on your lips. You plucked the paddle from it’s hook and laid it on the bed. With a final glance at the door, you knelt on the bed beside it.

It felt like ages before Stephen came in, but you didn’t move a muscle. You could see the proud gleam in his eye, and a wave of arousal washed through you.

“Strip.” You stood and stripped your clothes off, leaving them folded nearly on the chair beside the bed like you’d been taught. Finally, you were standing bare in front of him, your hands clasped behind your back.

Stephen took a long moment to look you over. It really had been too long since he had given you proper attention.

“I think 20 strikes will suffice. 5 for interrupting Sir while he was working, 5 for touching Sir without permission, and 10 for not telling Sir when you need him. Does that sound fair?” Stephen picked up the paddle and weighed it in his hand.

“Yes, Sir.” You knew your limits, and he seemed happy with your answer.

“You remember your safeword?” He guided you to turn around, his hand sprawling across your upper back to gently bend you over. You nodded. “Use your words.”

“Mangoes. It’s mangoes.” You answered. Stephen hummed.

“Hands on the bed. You’re gonna count for me.” He gently teased the edge of the paddle over the swell of your ass, then up your spine and back down. Your hands fisted into the blankets.

Stephen was patient, sometimes irritatingly so. It’s what made him a good surgeon, but it drove you crazy when he strung you out. You let out a startled hiss at the press of the cool paddle to your skin.

“Count.” He reminded, but he hardly gave you a second to process the word before the paddle came down against your ass.

“One,” You squeaked. He soothed over the spot, teasing you with the power he held. Then two more swats in quick succession. “Two, three.”

You were careful to keep up. Four, five, six. But you were growing convinced that Stephen was trying to throw you off simply for the fun of it. Seven, eight, nine. You were squirming, desperation swirling in your stomach. Ten, eleven, twelve. Your hand flew back to protect your increasingly sore backside. Stephen’s hand caught your wrist and he sighed.

“You may want to think twice about that. You know better.” He let you go and you quickly put your hand back where it belonged. The next hit came harder and you yelped. “Count.”

“Thirteen. I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll be good, I promise. I’m sorry.” You pleaded. Stephen didn’t answer, landing a swat right over your sit spots. You’d be feeling it for days, and just the thought had you gushing. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Tears were welling at the corner of your eyes. Stephen shushed you gently, his free hand running soothing strokes over your back.

“Almost done, kitten. Only four more. You can do that for me, can’t you?” He urged you on sweetly, and you mumbled a barely there affirmation. You relished the tiny break you were given as he caressed the backs of your thighs. You sniffled, and Stephen pressed a few kisses between your shoulder blades.

He continued with his gentle encouragement as he delivered the final swats, fast and hard. Then he sat the paddle aside and helped you to stand straight. You curled into his chest, but he didn’t reprimand you this time. His fingers brushed the few remaining tears away.

“I’m sorry I misbehaved, Sir.” You looked up, and Stephen smirked.

“How sorry, babydoll?” The question made you tip your head, but your sincerity never faltered.

“I’m so so sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

And when you said such precious things, Stephen couldn’t help the way his cock jumped.

“Down, take out my cock.” He ran a hand through your hair before gently guiding you down to your knees. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you made quick work of his belt and the fastenings on his pants. You tugged them down with his underwear and helped him out of them.

His cock stood half hard and mouthwateringly beautiful in front of your face. Your hand lifted to wrap around it, but you paused just before you touched him fully. You looked up again.

“Sir?”

Stephen continued to run his hand through your hair and gave you a little nod.

“Do as you please.” And you had every intention of doing just that. You reached out to give him a few tugs. His manhood was hot and heavy in your palm as you teased him to full size.

You leaned in and lapped at the head of his cock with a practised ease. You ran your tongue over the vein lining the underside of his shaft. He didn’t make a sound, but his hand tightened in your hair.

You grew tired of the teasing quickly, taking the entirety of his length into your mouth. You suckled, your tongue swirling before you took him deeper. You pressed farther until he was nestled in your throat and your nose bumped against his pelvic bone.

“Hands behind your back. I want to see what you can do with just your mouth.” Stephen commanded. And his voice sounded almost strained, like he was trying to hold back any sign of pleasure. Nevertheless, you obeyed, folding your hands behind you, letting them rest right at the swell of your ass.

You drew off before bobbing your head. You tried to keep yourself steady now as you sucked him off. His groans finally began to come out now, loud and desperate as his hips picked up a rhythm. He held your head steady and fucked into your throat.

You were a mess, spit leaking down your face, and tears streaking your face as you tried to keep your throat open enough to accommodate his sheer size.

“Fuck,” He groaned, head tipping back. You were always so perfect for him, the way you took his cock so well.

Your eyes opened again to look up at him. Even with his head tilted back, his eyes stayed trained on you, dark and steady.

“You’re gonna make me cum right down that pretty little throat.” He warned you, and the thought sent a shock to your core. He was close, you could tell. Your throat was sore, and your lips were swollen, the ache in your jaw was getting worse by the minute, but all you cared about was sucking him dry.

His fingers tightened painfully against your scalp, nestling your head all the way down on his length and shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat. You took it as well as you could, swallowing it down. A bit trickled from the corners of your mouth, leaking down your face with the rest of your mess.

Stephen beamed down at you, and his hands moved to smooth your hair. He hooked two fingers into the ring of your collar and tugged you back to your feet.

“Are you okay?” He asked, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. He always thought you looked so perfect after you went down on him. You nodded a little.

“Am I forgiven, Sir?” You asked sweetly. Stephen chuckled once again, but he nodded.

“All forgiven. Now come on. I haven’t been taking care of you. Sir has a lot to make up for too.”

Tag List: @dragonofthenorth0726​ // @vozit​ // @realgaytrash​ // @i-love-books-so-fricking-much​ // @nikkiofasgard​ // @duvetsandpillows​

#stephen strange imagine #stephen strange smut #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange smut #kinktober 2020 #stephen strange #doctor strange #imagine #smut #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu smut #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe imagine #marvel cinematic universe smut #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut #wandas-sunshine

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 4 -

- Ao3 link -

It had been an inauspicious year to begin with.

A poor harvest led to famine among the common people, which in turn created conditions ripe for evil creatures of all sorts; the night-hunts that were often treated as playful competition by the cultivation world became more like the boring drudgery of everyday work, disciples setting off in packs on a regular basis all over, time and time again. The tension wore on the sects, some more than others, and dozens of small disputes began to rise up, needing to be dealt with. Lan Qiren’s schedule became busy, and then busier, and then became overwhelming; he was forced to discard one pastime after another in his efforts to hold back the rising tide, and in the end sacrificed sleep and sometimes meals to preserve only two: playing for Jiwei and spending time with his nephews.

It meant that he was unprepared, both mentally and physically, for word of the death of Cangse Sanren and her husband, which took over two years to finally come to ears of the Great Sects – such a shocking failure of information that Lan Qiren briefly wondered if it had been concealed intentionally.

The sudden shock of grief hit him hard.

He tried to convince himself that he had expected it, that she had expected it, that at least her son was now safe in the Lotus Pier, and yet all he could think about was that he had one less friend in the world. The sadness interfered with his focus, creeping in at all hours, uncontrollable, until one evening he was playing guqin with his nephews and looked up to find them both weeping uncontrollably from the music he was playing. When he tried to stop mid-song, he abruptly collapsed, and upon waking was informed that he had become feverish at some point in the night.

His sect doctors advised him to go into seclusion until he could control himself.

Lan Qiren refused.

They advised him again, this time with greater insistence, and with the support of his sect elders.

“Tell them to fuck off,” Lao Nie suggested, pouring a calming tea that he’d brought from Qinghe.

He’d come to visit with his sons, Nie Mingjue disappearing with Lan Xichen as always and Nie Huaisang engaged in the newest stage in his eternal battle of wills with Lan Wangji over a game of weiqi that they were both taking far, far too seriously.

(Despite knowing Lan Wangji and indeed Nie Huaisang better than most people alive, Lan Qiren honestly could not determine whether the two of them despised each other or were close friends. Lao Nie claimed the answer was both, simultaneously, but Lan Qiren didn’t understand that at all.)

“That is not how we do things here,” Lan Qiren said, accepting a cup. It was rude for him to allow a fellow sect leader who was his guest to serve him, rather than the other way around, but he had a headache from the persistent fever and exhaustion that was even more persistent, the boundless river of grief in his heart translating into physical agony, and anyway Lao Nie hadn’t exactly asked permission before proceeding. “It would be more appropriate for me to present a well-reasoned case for it not being necessary, based on rules, authority, and precedent.”

“Except you can’t put one together because you’re upset and tired,” Lao Nie said with a snort. “That’s stupid. You’re overworked, stretched too thin, you just found out that your friend is dead – you need sleep, not seclusion. Anyway, what happens if you do go into seclusion? Aren’t they always saying they need you to stick around to be Sect Leader so desperately?”

Lan Qiren rubbed his eyes. “It would not be true seclusion. I would be expected to continue certain parts of the work.”

“You’re joking.”

“It would be primarily administrative correspondence –”

“By that token, your brother ought to do it!”

Lan Qiren glared. “It’s not the same and you know it. And they are not wrong that I need rest.”

“From what I recall of what you’ve told me about your sect’s practice of seclusion, that’s not rest,” Lao Nie said acidly. “Surely there’s something I can do to help. I could send over some of my disciples…”

“Excellent idea,” Lan Qiren said, rolling his eyes. “We can replace all those rumors that I’ve been secretly pining for years over my best female friend with ones regarding my best male friend.”

“It is a little ‘hero rushes to save the lady’, isn’t it?” Lao Nie said thoughtfully, shaking his head in amusement. “But seriously, I came here for a reason, and it’s not Jiwei or A-Jue or anything like that. You’re always trying to help me, Qiren. For once, let me help you.”

Lan Qiren would normally protest this – because Lao Nie had so done many things for him over the years that it was an incorrect statement, because he hated the helpless feeling of letting someone do things for him, because that wasn’t something sect leaders did for each other – but he was tired and he feared seclusion and sometimes he thought it might be nice to do one thing that could be considered a little reckless before he died.

“Very well,” he said, closing his eyes and drinking the tea. “Do as you like.”

That was a dangerous thing to say to someone like Lao Nie, who promptly pulled three dozen Nie sect disciples from out of nowhere and sent them scurrying around hunting down evil with the energetic enthusiasm of youth entrusted with gigantic sabers and the freedom to use them as they would, while he himself settled in very happily in Lan Qiren’s home, sleeping on a guest bed, keeping away unwanted visitors and helping with any paperwork that didn’t explicitly require a Lan. He also recruited Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to assist, despite Lan Qiren’s protests that bureaucratic busywork was not an appropriate way for boys of approximately fifteen and definitely twelve, respectively, to spend their time; both of them very solemnly assured Lan Qiren that they were more than happy to do whatever they could.

Even little Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang bullied their way into being involved, insisting that they wanted to do it more than they wanted to train or play, although at their ages there really wasn’t much they could do besides grind ink and run messages to the relevant recipients.

As Lan Qiren might have expected, rumors immediately started about some sort of torrid affair – life would be so much easier if everyone obeyed the rules against gossiping purposelessly – and they even got to the point that several of the sect elders cautiously hinted to him that although cutsleeve relationships were far from being in vogue, they had at no point been explicitly forbidden by the rules, and cited several provisions which seemed to favor such things.

Lan Qiren had thanked them for the reminder and caustically commented that he would be sure to incorporate that into his next set of lectures as he could see no other reason for them to mention it, and soon enough they backed off, shaking their heads. Still, those busybodies that had his best interests in mind were still preferable to the ones that started once more raising the idea of finding him a nice bride of suitable age – by suitable age, they meant too old for children, lest he get any idea of challenging his brother’s line of descent – before he did anything foolish like fall in love, or, worse, to act on it.

Obviously he had no intentions of permitting that.

Still, after a month of enforced rest, Lan Qiren was feeling a bit more himself. He took on more and more of the work, albeit supervised by five sets of judging eyes, and even began to play once more, this time without bringing anyone to tears. Jiwei and Xinfei rested together by the door in comfortable equilibrium, hot and cold, weak and powerful, and the jade pendant that Lan Qiren carried with him remained cool to the touch, not hot at all.

“You will need to go soon,” he told Lao Nie, who shrugged, not denying it – a month was a long time for a sect leader to be away from home absent some valid excuse like a war, not quite too long but starting to push it. No matter how effective one’s deputies were nor how much work one did from a distance, a sect leader was still necessary, in the end, or else Lan Qiren’s life would have been very different.

“Next week,” he said. “That’ll give me just enough time to take the boys home before heading back out again for the conference in Qishan.”

“There’s a conference? I wasn’t informed.”

“No, you weren’t, because I didn’t inform you,” Lao Nie said, utterly shameless. “You’re going to stay here and rest. It’s just a stupid party.”

“That doesn’t matter if it is also a stupid party which everyone else is attending,” Lan Qiren said sternly.

“Jiang Fengmian isn’t going, either,” Lao Nie said. “Doesn’t want to leave his new ward alone just yet…newest rumor has it that Wei Wuxian’s his bastard with Cangse Sanren.”

Lan Qiren shut his eyes. “Of course. Wasn’t I the one having the affair with her last week?”

“Perhaps it was a love triangle?”

“A square, at minimum. Don’t forget she had a husband.”

“A pyramid!”

“Lao Nie…”

Lao Nie laughed. “Jin Guangshan isn’t making it, either. His wife’s giving birth – predictions say to a daughter, I think, assuming this one survives the birth – and all accounts say that she’s threatened to cut his balls off if he even thinks of leaving Lanling City. So, you see, it really is just a stupid party, and by missing it you’ll be doing just the same thing as all the other Great Sects.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden stab of misgiving. “Except you.”

“Except me,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “Me and Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren truly did not want to know what went on in Lao Nie’s mind sometimes.

“Why don’t you refrain from going as well?” he asked, aware he sounded tetchy and irritable like some jealous wife in an opera. “If no one else is going.”

“Oh, I have to go. A-Han asked for me specifically,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren thought to himself oh I’m certain he did, then promptly felt bad about doing so. Sneering for no reason was prohibited. “Someone’s gifted him with some magnificent saber for his collection, apparently, and he was boasting that it was the best there was right up until someone stuck their nose in it and said that it was all well and good but no comparison to my Jiwei.”

Lan Qiren could imagine exactly how well a statement like that had gone over with Wen Ruohan.

“And now he’s demanding you show up and produce evidence?” he asked, unimpressed.

Lao Nie grinned. “Ah, Qiren, it’s almost like you’ve met the man before.”

“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Lan Qiren said. “Why should you go just because he asked? He’s your equal, not your master.”

“There’s no harm in giving him some face.”

Lan Qiren could think of several ways that it could lead to harm, the inflation of Wen Ruohan’s already bloated ego being not the least of them, but Lao Nie was his equal as well, his equal and his elder. If the man had made up his mind, as it clearly appeared that he had, there was nothing Lan Qiren could say that would change it.

“Good luck, then,” he said, shaking his head, and called the boys to come in for dinner. As usual, the Lan half of the table remained mute while the Nie half did nothing but chatter, each according to their own family custom. It was a test of wills and endurance – Lan Wangji’s eye kept twitching every time Nie Huaisang filled in words for him, possibly due to the extremely high pitch Nie Huaisang chose to represent him – but it was a joy to share the time with them nonetheless.

Before Lao Nie left, Lan Qiren tried, not for the first time, to press the jade pendant that resonated with Jiwei into his hand. “You should take it with you,” he insisted. “Especially if you’re going to the Nightless City to exhibit your saber – there’s a great deal of resentful energy there, and you know that always gets Jiwei’s bloodlust up.”

“Which in turn will sharpen my reflexes, just when I need them most,” Lao Nie said, pressing the jade pendant right back into Lan Qiren’s hand. “Better you have it.”

“Lao Nie…”

“Jiwei likes you now,” Lao Nie said, as if that mattered. “She’s been just as avid to protect you as I’ve been, this past month – if I didn’t need her by my side, I’d almost be tempted to leave her here with you.”

Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that I can’t protect myself? Here? In the Cloud Recesses?”

“Saber spirits are not smart, Qiren. But even she can tell that you’re not well yet.”

Lan Qiren waved a hand dismissively. “Well enough,” he said, and it was even true – the grief was still there, of course, and likely would be every time he thought of Cangse Sanren in the near future, excluding maybe the few times when it was one of his students that resembled her only in terms of how much mischief she would get up to, but it was no longer drowning him. He had hope that, in time, this wound would also scab over and the hurt fade, and that at that time he could once again think of her with nothing but joy.

Lao Nie huffed. “Well enough isn’t well,” he grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from gathering his children and his disciples and heading out back towards Qinghe. “Take care of yourself, Qiren! Be well!”

“And you,” Lan Qiren said. “Keep out of trouble, my friend.”

From what he later heard, the party at the Nightless City went about as anyone with half a brain might have expected: Wen Ruohan swanned around until Lao Nie showed up, there were tense words exchanged, and then Lao Nie produced Jiwei, allowing Wen Ruohan to examine her and even pat her a few times before the Wen sect leader was forced, with great reluctance and through gritted teeth, to admit her superiority to the saber he had received.

The stories ended there, but Lan Qiren had enough imagination to fill in how the rest of the night might have gone, especially with the only sect leaders there being Lao Nie and Wen Ruohan. He sincerely hoped that Lao Nie had remembered all those lectures he’d given him about the foolishness of lying in the same bed as poisonous snakes, no matter how beautiful they might be on the surface.

Perhaps he had, perhaps he hadn’t.

Either way, Lan Qiren heard nothing else until the day he interrupted his own afternoon lecture with a sudden cry of intense pain – the jade pendant had abruptly gone so hot that it had burned, and although his clothing, protected by stitched-in incantations, was unharmed, the heat was so severe that it had nevertheless left a mark on his thigh through all those layers.

Clutching at his leg, Lan Qiren ordered his students to run to fetch him cold water and a doctor, and wondered what in the world had happened.

A letter, he decided. He would write Lao Nie a letter to ask.

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #my fic #my fics #tedious joys

[amanda-glassen]

The Wonder Years: Part 11

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-10 and one-shots in this universe can be found in the tag #alex and liv: the wonder years

Jamie stayed up with Olivia until 2 a.m. playing video games to take their minds off of the night’s events when Serena finally came home. She didn’t talk to either of them despite Jamie asking if she was okay and Olivia telling her that she loved her. Olivia didn’t know who this woman was that walked through the door. She was fragile and worn down, nothing like the vibrant woman she knew. Olivia was used to giving her mom a hug every time she got home, but this time there was no talking to her, no touching her, and Olivia felt for the first time in her life that her mom wished she hadn’t been born. The only words she heard from her after a few minutes was her mom yelling at her to go to bed.

...but she didn’t go to bed. Instead, Olivia left her bedroom door slightly ajar so she could peek down the hall.

Olivia didn’t know how it happened, but Jamie was able to embrace her mom and Serena clinged to her and smiled some goofy smile that Olivia had once seen in a romantic comedy, until she remembered she and her mom didn’t actually watch romantic comedies. Or was that a horror movie before the woman went on a rampage and killed the man who wronged her? Either way, she’s actually smiling.

“I’m sorry our first full night together didn’t go according to plan,” she heard her mom say to Jamie.

Olivia didn’t remember falling asleep and, when she woke up the next morning, the noises she heard from down the hall made her feel as if she had woken up in another universe. She heard pans clinking in the kitchen and the sound of her mom laughing. Oh my god, she killed my dad with a frying pan and she’s laughing about it. But Olivia quickly shook that thought from her head and took a deep breath before walking down the hall.

“...Mom?” Olivia hesitated.

“I’m in the kitchen, Olliegator!” she heard her mom call out.

She walked in to find Jamie standing in front of the stove, making omelets and her mom sitting on the counter, eating from a bowl of shredded cheese. She was smiling and happy and Olivia began to wonder if last night had even happened at all or if it was just a horrible dream.

“Morning, Ollie. Your mom has been banished to the counter,” Jamie informed her. “She kept trying to do non-stick pan demonstrations, but she couldn’t do them without making the omelets fly out of the pan and onto the floor. I figured the bowl of cheese will keep her happy, though.”

“Treating me like a common mouse,” Serena scoffed. “Do I at least have permission to get off of the counter so I could talk to my daughter?”

“Permission granted,” Jamie responded, too preoccupied with the omelets to care if Serena got off the countertop.

While sitting on the couch in the living room, there wasn’t a single moment of awkward silence before Olivia felt herself wrapped up in her mom’s embrace. She was holding her close and giving her kisses on the cheek to make Olivia giggle, which made her more confused than ever. It’s like last night never even happened.

“My Ollie,” her mom said as she hugged her again. “My sweet baby. I’m so sorry I hurt you last night.”

“It's okay."

She felt her mom cup her face in her hands. "I need you to listen to me, Olivia. It's never okay for anyone to hurt you, especially me. I’m your mom and I should always protect you.”

“Mom?”

Her mom kissed her wrist where she had roughly grabbed it the night before. “Does it still hurt? Do you need ice? Olliegator, please tell me how I can make it up to you? I’ll get you anything. I’ll get you the bat you’ve been wanting.” Her mom shook her head. “No, that’ll make it seem like I’m buying your forgiveness. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so bad at this.”

“Buying my forgiveness is okay,” Olivia smiled. “I’ll take the bat.”

“I bet you will,” her mom playfully pulled her onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her waist. “My big baby. You’re growing so fast. You’re almost as tall as me now.”

“Mom?” Olivia asked nervously.

“Yes, Ollie?”

“What you said earlier...you’re not bad at this,” Olivia averted her eyes. “And this whole you being in love thing...I guess it’s okay. Jamie played video games with me last night while you were with Uncle Kyle. I really like her. I just don’t like her kissing you. No one is supposed to be kissing my mom.”

“No one?”

Olivia turned around to face her. “Just me,” she said after giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She saw her mom give her that dopey smile that meant she was feeling soft and sentimental. 

“Okay, only you.” Olivia felt her mom’s fingers combing through her hair. “I know what you can do for your science project.” With everything that had happened around her in the course of twelve hours, Olivia had completely forgotten about her science project. Even if it was a significant portion of her grade, it all felt so trivial in comparison to meeting her dad. “When I was in middle school, my best friend and I did a cupcake geology project and made cupcakes with different layers to represent the earth. Instead of your classmates just observing the project, they’ll get their own cupcakes and straws to use to simulate what it’s like to drill and collect core samples. I’ll help you bake them.”

Olivia gave her a confused look. “But you can’t bake.”

“Then I’ll help you convince Jamie to bake them,” Serena playfully touched her finger to the tip of Olivia’s nose. “Come on, Olliegator. I think breakfast is almost ready.”

“Race you to the kitchen. First one there gets the cheesiest omelet.” Olivia took off running but felt her mom wrap her arms around her waist from behind and push ahead of her. “Mom! That’s cheating!”

....but the moment her mom stepped foot in the kitchen, Jamie scooped her up and refused to let her go. “Get the cheesy one, Ollie. She’s trapped.”

Olivia raced toward the plate with the cheesy omelet and piled some hash browns next to it. She looked back at her mom who was still struggling to get away from Jamie’s embrace. “Jamie! Now I have to have the veggie omelet.”

“Serena, you ate half a bowl of cheese this morning!” Jamie released her once Olivia was sitting down with her breakfast. “I did it on purpose, babe. When was the last time you ate a vegetable that wasn’t on a pizza?”

“I ate a chicken caesar wrap for lunch two days ago,” Serena pointed out as she begrudgingly piled some hash browns next to her veggie omelet.

Jamie came up to hug her from behind and Olivia couldn’t help but giggle when she saw her mom pout. “Yeah and I bet you doused it in dressing,” Jamie smirked.

“She’s just gonna cover this in ketchup anyway and that’s loaded with sugar,” Olivia told Jamie although she had just squirted ketchup onto her own hash browns. “And not just the hash browns either. She covers her omelets, too.”

“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” her mom asked as she poured what remained of the shredded cheese onto her omelet when Jamie wasn’t looking. “Are you two going to call me out on all of my eating habits?”

As her mom really didn’t know how to cook, a homemade breakfast was a rare treat in the Benson household. On weekend mornings, they usually ordered from Doordash or went to her mom’s favorite coffee shop for bagels. Weekday mornings were always hectic between Olivia rushing to get ready for school and her mom getting ready for work so she’d scarf down a Pop Tart while her mom grabbed a cereal bar and some coffee in a tumbler. But sitting at the table that morning, just the three of them, eating a breakfast that Jamie cooked and talking and laughing made Olivia feel like they could eventually be a family and her mom could be happy like this every morning. 

“What’s on your mind, Olliegator?” her mom asked as tousled her hair. 

She wanted to tell her mom that she was happy for her and that her being in love was one of the best things that could happen to the two of them. She wanted to tell her that she was going to meet her dad so she could alleviate some of the guilt. Olivia still didn’t know what happened between the two of them, but she held onto the hope that it was a fight－something they could finally work out－and when they did, Olivia would have a relationship with her dad. She didn’t want her parents together now that she knew how much her mom loved Jamie and how much Jamie loved her mom, but she still hoped that he could go to her games and maybe she could spend every other weekend at his house like all the other kids she knew whose parents were divorced. She thought about what her grandma said about going to Disneyland and she wanted to tell her that she’d do anything for the chance to ride the teacups with Alex, but none of the words formed.

“I’m just thinking about how good the cheesy omelet is.”

#alex and liv: the wonder years #cabenson #olivia benson #alex cabot

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 16: Up Against the Wall

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Summary: You two will probably never stop fighting, but at least you're trying.

A/N: I'm so sorry to have to split this up. This was a smut chapter but it was just so damn long. I couldn't just slam 15 pages here. I mean I could, but it didn't make sense to. But next week? Smut. Also definitely gonna write a prequel to this. Even if it's just for me, unless you guys wanna see it haha <3

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

“What was that about?” Liu sat on the edge of your bed at your side without so much as asking for permission. Bold.

“Oh, that?” You looked to the door in amusement. “Yeah, about that. Cole knows.”

“Cole knows what?”

“Cole knows.” You gave him a pointed look. Liu furrowed his brow while trying to decipher your words and then widened his eyes in realization. He watched the door, surprised.

“Oh.” He seemed puzzled. “How, exactly?”

“He saw us the other night. Right before closing.”

“Oh.” He repeated. “Bad timing.” Liu sighed but you could see amusement behind his eyes. It was reminiscent of those first few weeks you’d spent with him where he didn’t say what he really meant but in a playful sort of way. He’d done that all the damn time and he knew just how attractive you found it. Damn him. Of course he would think this was a little funny while you were ripping yourself apart over it.

“That and…” You tilted your head to the side and pushed your hair away from your shoulder. Then you wiped the remains of the makeup off of your neck so that he could see the damn hickey that he’d left on you. Liu’s face dropped but then he practically snorted with laughter and had to cover his mouth to hide his smile. What a brat! He cleared his throat.

“Oops.”

That was all he had to say, huh? You shoved his shoulder.

“Really, Liu? A hickey? What are you, twelve?” You let your hair fall back into place.

“I guess I got a little carried away.” He shrugged as if this were all the explanation you would need. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You know, I cannot think of a single time where you left a mark on me and it wasn’t like we had a lot of self-control back then.”

“Well, that’s not true…” He looked ready to argue with you so you rolled your eyes at him.

“A mark that anyone could see.” You stuck your tongue out at him. He gave a short nod as if to thank you for clarifying. “Now, when things are at their most complicated, Liu, you just… go for it, I guess. Big ol’ mark right on my neck for everyone to see. Thank the stars that it was Cole who noticed it and not someone else.”

“I wasn’t exactly in control of much yesterday.” Liu offered a very pitiful defense but he, again, was hiding his laughter.

“Oh, and you were so in control back then, were you?”

“Uh…” He hesitated. “Fair point.” You laughed in disbelief. “It’s nice to see you smile.” But your smile fell almost immediately. It had felt nice to joke about it, like it wasn’t weighing so heavily on you. Things were often too serious between you now. You’d once been the best of friends. “How are you feeling?” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Of course not.

“I’m tired of you asking me how I’m feeling.”

“You collapsed earlier so I’m a little worried. That’s all. I think I get to ask.” When you offered him no further explanation of what had happened, he continued. “Overexertion, perhaps? Or something that you’re not telling me which seems more likely. You do that a lot. Especially now. There was a time where you couldn’t keep from telling me everything.” He was right about that. You’d had an instant connection and had shared truths and secrets very early on. That felt like a lifetime ago. You were a different person now.

“Liu…” You decided to let him down easy and then send him away. Today had been too much and keeping him around was dangerous. And considering how much you wanted to do something dangerous, you had to get rid of him.

“What aren’t you telling me, Y/N?”

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet.” It was true. You didn’t want to tell anyone what that man had put into your head. You weren’t ready to face it. In fact, your brain had completely stalled in processing it. The afternoon was already being blacked out.

“We don’t have time for you to brood over whatever it is. Dealing with it later can’t be the only solution you have.”

“You are just so damn determined to turn everything into a fight, aren’t you?” You snapped at him. “I didn’t force you to deal with whatever you’re dealing with. Maybe later is all I have right now.”

“We don’t have until later.”

“Does it make you feel better to pick a fight with me? Is that what it is?”

“You’re just as confrontational as I am, Y/N. Listen to the way you said that.”

“Let it go. I’ll sort it out with Raiden when we get back to China. You and I? We’re not that close anymore, Liu. Get it through your head.”

“You know that I can’t let it go.” He pushed his hair back in frustration. “Not just because you’re my friend. That night on the roof you saw something. I’m guessing you saw this. You saw what happened today.” You frowned. He was right but it didn’t mean you had to like it. “I let you have your space about what you saw on the roof and after today, I can’t keep doing that. And you don’t have to lash out at me every time you’re scared.”

“Scared?” You went from zero to annoyed immediately. Annoyed because he was right and annoyed because he was calling you out in such a tone.

“I’ve decided that’s what it is that makes you like this. Fear. Fear of change. Fear of the guilt. Fear of me. Fear of whatever it is you’re not telling anyone.”

“Sometimes I can’t stand the way that you assume you know what I’m thinking and feeling.”

“Only because you don’t tell me anything anymore. So don’t start on that. I’m not assuming anything, Y/N. It’s an observation.” He frowned but he hadn’t snapped or yelled at you. You hated that he was so levelheaded. Why couldn’t he be just as irrational as you were now? Why was it that he had gotten it together but you were still a mess? “You’re jumping down my throat because you’re uncomfortable.”

“Liu, I swear…”

“You pick fights now because it’s easier than talking. It was different when I was the one picking fights. And you called me out. So, I’m calling you out, Y/N.” He looked as if he wanted you to prove him wrong. You hated that he was right. You hated that he was making you face these things head on. It was something that Kung Lao just hadn’t done. You’d had your moments where you’d pushed each other but it was nothing like with Liu Kang. He had always pushed you. There had been a time where you’d loved that.

“You know what?” You began with an angry huff but it immediately deflated and your shoulders slumped. “I am scared.” You gave all of your attention to the tacky pattern on the carpeted floor. “I haven’t had to deal with visions in years. My arcana hasn’t drained me like this in just as long. Today was exhausting for me and my fuse is short. This is a lot. You’re right. It’s easier to fight with you than to deal with it.”

“To your credit you did duplicate nearly everyone today. Then you smashed all those things in one strike. I’ve never seen you do anything on that scale before. It was impressive.” He offered an understanding smile which you were relieved to see even out of the corner of your eye. Maybe you wouldn’t fight. “No wonder you’re a little gray.”

“I’ve never tried anything that grand before.”

“You never needed to.”

“It’s left me rattled, that’s all. Raiden will help. We figured it out back then and we’ll figure it out again.” It was probably the trauma and the guilt. Those things could weigh heavily on a person.

“We will.” He folded his hands in his lap and you sat together in silence. Liu shifted next to you. He was trouble today. And he had no idea how dangerous you were feeling, how desperately you wanted to cause some trouble and how easy it was for your brain to connect those two facts. Liu Kang could be just the trouble you needed and you were already kicking yourself for thinking it. “What aren’t you saying?”

“I’m not saying it, Liu, on purpose.” You spoke quietly so he leaned closer. His hand covered yours where you had it rested on the bed between you. Chills ran down your spine so you stiffened up. His touch was so careful, so thoughtful. You refused to shiver beneath the touch of Liu Kang.

“Y/N…” His voice was laced with concern.

“Don’t push me, Liu. Not today.” You turned toward him and leaned closer as if to dare him to do just that. Oh, how your body language betrayed you. “You have no idea how volatile I’m feeling.”

“Then talk to me. Don’t shut down.”

“Why, Liu?” You didn’t see the point. There was no way out of this for you. What did he think would happen? You were at war. What did anything matter? War with Outworld. War with wherever that horrid man had been from. War with each other. “I need to think it over. I’m not a touchy-feely-talk-about-everything person anymore and you know that.”

“No, Y/N, I don’t. We have clawed and fought our way to this point. Whether or not you like it, we’re in this together. You can’t just be in it when it’s convenient for you.”

“That’s so nasty, Liu. Don’t put it like that.”

“I already did.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it. That’s the line.”

“You are obviously hurting. Something happened and you aren’t telling me. Something prompted you to do what you did earlier. Let me be there for you. Let me comfort you.”

“I don’t want your comfort.”

“Why not?”

“You already know the reason, Liu.” His comfort came with strings. There was no such thing as no-strings-attached with Liu Kang. Even when he had said it meant nothing it had been a lie. You knew each other too well now to pretend.

“Because you’re afraid?” There was that word again. The way he said it with such disdain made you immediately angry. You gritted your teeth to keep from saying something awful. “Scared that it’ll make you weak to need comfort? Or scared that maybe you’ll do something that you clearly want to do and then have to deal with the consequences?” He moistened his lips and then swallowed hard as if to keep from saying something more. But he’d said enough.

“You just have to push and push and dig and dig until I snap, don’t you? You just can’t help yourself. Then you call me out for assuming shit and turn around and do the same thing to me, you hypocrite.” There was that bottled up anger, coming out in a bite. You’d warned him and he’d poked the bear anyway.

“You need pushing.”

“Are you getting some sick sense of purpose from this, Liu?” Your lip curled in anger. “I get it. You’re lost after losing Kung Lao and then after what happened with me and finding out I was wasted and made a mistake… now you’re…”

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Y/N. You’re angry. Defensive. Lashing out. But you do not get to tell me how I feel or why I’m doing what I’m doing. I’m thinking clearly for the first time since it all happened.”

“Oh, so you get to but I don’t? You used me like a verbal punching bag this last week, Liu! Maybe it’s about time you had a taste of your own damn medicine.”

“Stop.” He grabbed your arm and you tugged it but he didn’t let go. He grabbed your other arm and turned you to face him. “Just stop it, Y/N.”

You should have pulled your hand back and broken his stupid nose. But his dark eyes were full of concern, pleading with you, dripping with sincerity. Betraying your anger, your vision blurred with tears. He was right. You furrowed your brow and forced the tears away. Then you gave him a curt nod.

“Sorry.” You muttered. He shifted and moved closer. Letting go of your wrist, he placed his hand instead on your cheek. His warm fingers traced down to your jaw and then beneath it, tilting your chin back up so you would have to face him. His lips were close. They were dangerous and you wanted them. You hated yourself for wanting them.

“Don’t push me away, Y/N.” His lips brushed against yours just barely, tantalizing you with each word. He knew exactly what he was doing. Liu Kang played so damn innocent but you knew exactly what he was doing in these moments where you had gotten this close. He knew what he’d been doing back then and he knew what he was doing now. “Please.” His lips graced yours again as he spoke and then slowly engulfed them in a kiss that send sparks shooting down your spine. That soft kiss was enough to make you crumble. The tension you’d held in your every nerve faded. How could you do anything but lean into that kiss? You savored the touch of his soft lips, the bottom one still broken from the day before. The taste of them was like fire. Loose embers that had, at some point, coated his lips.

No.

No, you couldn’t do this. As much as you wanted it, this kind of trouble wasn’t the kind you would come back from twice. Hand on his chest, you pushed him back, pulling your lips away from his and just barely managing it.

“Bad idea.” You muttered against every instinct in your body.

“Why?” He grasped the wrist he still held in frustration. “You want this. I know you do.”

“That doesn’t matter, Liu.”

“It matters.” He was exasperated and you couldn’t rightly blame him. “What you want matters. What I want matters.”

“But…”

“But what?” His cool exterior finally broke.

“Don’t snap at me like that.”

He quieted you with a kiss and you laughed in surprise against the demand of his fiery lips.

Next Chapter >>

#liu kang x reader #self insert #reader insert #liu kang #mk liu kang #slow burn #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #ludi lin #liu kang/reader #liu kang x you #liu kang/you #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #romance #death #tension #grief #beauty through ash #arcana #female reader #mortal kombat fanfiction #mk fanfiction #mortal kombat fanfic #mk kung lao #max huang #johnny cage #cole young #sonya blade

[whump-tr0pes]

Jake/Isaac comf part 2/3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Isaac Moore works in the pet lib movement, rescuing pets from the BBU. After an op goes sideways, he ends up on the doorstep of Jake Stanton’s safehouse for rescued pets, bleeding, and needing a safe place to lie low. Jake helps treat Isaac’s wounds and sets him up on the couch to sleep until Isaac’s medic can get into town. 

Jake, Chris, Antoni, and Ash’s BBU story belong to @ashintheairlikesnow and are used here with permission. You can find Isaac’s story here.

Content warning: implied human trafficking, past child abuse, discussion about intimate partner violence (that isn’t actually happening), scars, pet whump, past torture, touch starvation

~

Jake couldn’t sleep. Not with the stranger in the house. Even if Nat knew him (and she did, he’d called her as soon as he’d helped Isaac to the bathroom and closed the door) and even if he was pet lib (he was, Nat had confirmed that, too – extraction teams, she called them, and Jake had to laugh at the sick parallel to the acquisition teams that made people like Isaac necessary), he couldn’t stop thinking about the risk Isaac brought. He’d insisted on Isaac getting some sleep before he left again. 

“I mean… can you go to the hospital to get fixed up?” he’d asked.

“No,” Isaac had said with a huff. “No way. I have a friend who works in the hospital, but I can’t… set foot there. Not without putting her at risk. We have a medic, but… they were delayed. Fuck, they’re… probably at least eight hours away, with how far they still have left to drive.”

“Will you die before they get here?” Jake had said, trying to keep his voice even, the way he usually did with the rescues. Even with this man, who was probably older than he was and not in need of his protection, he slid so easily into that role. 

“No,” Isaac said, with a strange twist in his voice. “It looks worse than it is.”

Jake hadn’t believed him, but he had insisted Isaac stay for at least eight hours, get the sleep he was so desperately needing. Reluctantly, Isaac had agreed, on the condition that as soon as his medic got into town, he’d leave.

“I’m not worth the risk to you,” he’d said. “Believe me.”

Jake had rolled his eyes when Isaac wasn’t watching, and given him fresh clothes and a set of sheets and a blanket to make up the couch.

Now Jake lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Chris was fast asleep in his own bed. He hadn’t left his room at all since Jake snapped at him, near as he could tell. Jake still burned with shame at raising his voice at the young rescue. 

He was just starting to trust me, too.

Jake rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms around his pillow and hugging it tight against his chest. He was miles away from sleep. Eons. He sighed and slipped out of bed.

His bare feet padded on the wood floor as he walked across the hall and descended the stairs. Just as he reached the bottom stair, he heard a sound that froze his heart in his chest.

A whimper. 

Fuck.

If they found him... Jesus Christ, if he led them here and they found him... Jake swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he walked around the corner into the living room, ready to scream if he needed to – ready to warn Chris and Antoni to run, without having to tell them to. 

He let out a breath of relief as he realized the living room was empty, except for the man lying on the couch. The room was lit by moonlight streaming in from the windows.

“N-no,” Isaac whimpered where he lay on the couch, twisting in the sheets. Jake’s heart went cold and he went to Isaac’s side without hesitation. 

“Isaac,” he whispered, reaching out to shake his shoulder. 

“No, no,” Isaac sobbed, his eyes closed, his hands held down by his sides – no, hands held behind him, as if…

As if tied there.

Jake sucked in a breath and shook Isaac harder. “Isaac,” he urged.

Isaac heaved a ragged sob, shying away from Jake’s hand. “P-please,” he whispered. “I… please, no, I… n-no, Gavin, no!”

Jake grasped Isaac’s shoulders and shook him so hard his teeth clacked together. Isaac gasped and threw his hands up over his head, his eyes darting around the room until they finally landed on Jake’s dark, hulking form over him.

“Shit,” Isaac spat, shoving himself away from Jake. “Fuck, shit—” He pulled back his fist and punched Jake squarely in the jaw. 

Jake reeled back, his own hands flying up to protect his head – but it wasn’t the first punch he’d ever taken. Not even close. He stayed on his feet, heart thundering in his chest. His hand shot out, fumbling for the light switch along the wall. He snapped it on, his hands tightening into fists – ready to end Isaac, if he made a single move towards the upstairs. 

Isaac froze as his eyes focused on Jake. Sweat glistened on his skin, darkened the neckline of the shirt he was wearing – Jake’s shirt. His gaze flicked to the bruise blooming on Jake’s cheek from where Isaac hit him. Isaac’s eyes went wide. 

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed. “Jake, I… I’m s-sorry. Fuck. I need to go. I…” He looked around, dazed. “Shit. Where are my clothes?”

“In the dryer,” Jake said, rubbing his jaw, fighting back the tears – the rage – that burned him. He jerked his head to the side to clear the rush of memory – fists, eyes wild with fury, a thundering voice that made something inside Jake tremble and quail. His knuckles ached as his hands squeezed tighter into fists. 

“Wh-who is Gavin?” Jake said darkly. 

Isaac froze, the blood seeming to drain from his face. “M-my partner,” he rasped. “Why—”

Jake made a soft sound in his throat as he looked at Isaac, a different kind of rage bubbling in his chest. “Your… partner?”

“How do you know about Gavin?” Isaac whispered. His hand drifted to his waistband, an unconscious-looking movement. 

“You were screaming his name in your sleep,” Jake said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “You…” He swallowed against the sudden rush of tears. “Begging him to stop… hurting you, I think. Isaac, does he…” Jake took a step closer, his hands relaxing at his sides. “…does he hurt you?”

Isaac slumped forward with a sigh of… relief. “Oh,” he said softly. “Oh. I… no, Jake. He… doesn’t hurt me.”

Jake clenched his jaw shut against the words that came in an onslaught. You think I don’t know what that looks like?

Jake shook his head. “…okay,” he said, knowing not to pry. “Then—”

“If I was begging him not to hurt me,” Isaac said, “It’s because he… he did, in the… in the past.”

Jake’s jaw started to ache. “I—”

“No,” Isaac said, his eyes sliding shut. “Not like… not like that. Um…” Uncertainly, Isaac’s hand went to the hem of his shirt. Slowly, painfully, he pulled the shirt up, revealing his stomach and chest.

Jake’s eyes went wide as his gaze moved over the scars that covered Isaac’s chest and abdomen, lines crossing in every direction in some sort of pattern. The scars disappeared beneath the shirt, and Jake saw for the first time the scars at Isaac’s wrists, too. Jake shivered as he raised his gaze again to Isaac’s eyes. Isaac dropped his shirt. 

“He didn’t want to,” Isaac said heavily.

Jake’s mouth opened, closed, opened again. “I…”

“Gavin’s parents…” Isaac swallowed tightly. “Th-they… they bought me. For him.”

Jake’s eyes went wide. “You… you were a—”

“A pet, yeah,” Isaac said through his teeth. He rubbed at the scars encircling one wrist. “I was. One of the… y-young ones. They… the Stormbecks…” Jake went pale at the name of the richest family in the city. “…they bought me. When I was twelve, my dad died in a car crash. Mom started drinking. I ended up on the street at fourteen, and…” Isaac’s mouth twisted. “…and one of them must have seen me. The fucking… acquisition teams. I… I don’t know… what made them choose me, but…” He shuddered. “Th-they made me… I…” It looked like it was physically painful to keep talking, like Isaac hadn’t told anyone this in a long time. “I w-was a Domestic. Officially. But…” He blew out a slow breath. “They… the Stormbecks… They made Gavin hurt me. They wanted him to be like… like them.”

Jake shook his head. “Like—”

“Sadists,” Isaac growled. “Torturers. Murderers.” His hand tightened around his own wrist. “Gavin… saved me. Ran away with me. But not before… before…” He gestured to his body. “…this.”

“Oh,” Jake breathed. “I… shit.”

Isaac shrugged painfully. “It’s ancient history,” he mumbled. “It’s nothing. It’s…” A slow smile spread across his face, the first true smile Jake had seen from him. “I have Gavin now. I have my family. It… i-it brought me to Gavin. And I…”

Jake flushed at the shy smile that tugged at Isaac’s lips. Jake didn’t have anyone like that, no one who looked like that when they thought of him.

He shoved down the blue eyes that smiled at him in his mind. 

“Well… I’m still…” Jake spread his hands. “I didn’t know. Sorry for… for assuming.”

“I don’t blame you, with what you’ve been through,” Isaac said, looking at Jake steadily.

Jake’s hands shook. “Wh-what I’ve… been… through?”

Isaac huffed a bitter laugh. “You think I ended up on the streets for no reason? Kids can deal with a lot more than just a parent who’s drunk a lot.”

Jake bit down on his tongue and said nothing. Rage tickled his chest, bubbling up his throat, burning his mouth. Still, something about the way Isaac said it... without pity, judgement, or awkwardness. It was a statement of fact. He knows my dad was a piece of shit. He doesn’t know the details, but he doesn’t have to. Pain is pain. Abuse is...

Abuse is abuse.

Jake shivered and forced his shoulders to relax. He rolled his neck and blew out a slow breath. “Yeah,” he said heavily. “Yeah.”

Isaac shrugged. “Miss him, though,” he said softly. “Gavin, I mean. I’ve been on the road for… fuck, for weeks, prepping for this op. And I…” He shrugged again, his shoulders tight. “Fuck, sometimes it’s nice to be with… someone who knows.”

“Yeah,” Jake rasped, his eyes suddenly burning with tears. “It… it is.” He wet his lips, trying desperately to blink the tears away. “Can I… can I sit?”

Isaac’s face softened, settled. “Yeah,” he said softly. He pushed himself to the side and pulled the blanket around him. Jake let out a shaking breath as he walked to the couch and sat beside Isaac. He didn’t say a word – only leaned into the touch – when Isaac wound his arm around his shoulder and drew the blanket around them both.

#Athena whumps Ash #honor bound #jake the shelter guy #whump #Ash/Athena crossover #BBU AU #BBU #box boy universe #pet whump #human trafficking tw #nightmare #whumpees misunderstanding the caretaker and thinking they're going to be tortured again is like... my thing #past child abuse tw #caretaker fight #kinda #Isaac/Gavin #yup #in every fucking universe #they always find each other #intimate partner violence tw #abuse tw #past captivity #Isaac's scars #past torture #touch starvation

[leossmoonn]

chemistry part thirteen

part twelve | part fourteen | masterlist

zuko x fem!reader

avatar: the last airbender

includes - you, zuko, suki, katara, toph, sokka, and aang

special appearances by - iroh, azula, and appa

warnings - mild language , makeout scene

you put your phone in your purse, getting up to go to the bathroom. you washed your hands and looked at your makeup and outfit for the 100th time.

your makeup was pretty minimal. well, it looked minimal. you did a very natural look with winged eyeliner and a red lip. since it was cold and zuko had told you to dress warm, you had wrapped up in warm, but cute clothes.

you had put on solid black jeans, a black belt, a red turtleneck sweater, a red scarf, and a coat. you had paired the outfit with black, one-inch heeled boots and curled hair. you were wearing a gold necklace that katara had given you a long time ago, and the charm bracelet that zuko had given you yesterday.

you hoped he liked your outfit. you’d never been on a real date before that didn’t consist of friends being with you. you were nervous, to say the least.

a knock sounded at the door, making your heart race and palms sweat.

“time to shine,” you muttered to yourself as you walked to the door.

you swung the door open, smiling once you met zuko’s smiling face. you took a look over his own outfit.

he was wearing jeans, a dark-blue sweater, a black coat, and black boots. you noticed silver rings on every other finger on his hands, and a silver chain around his neck. they made him ten times more attractive. his hair was fluffy and looked soft, going down past his eyes, covering up most of his scar.

“you look beautiful,” were the first words he spoke to you.

a light blush arised on the tip of your ears and cheekbones. you put your head down, smiling shyly. “thank you. you look really handsome.”

zuko smiled brightly at you, thinking how cute you were when you got shy. “thank you. are you ready to go?” he asked, holding out his hand for you to take.

you looked up at him, a big smile sitting in your red lip. “yep,” you said and took his hand.

goosebumps ran up your arm at the skin contact. you felt all warm and tingly. a feeling you only felt when you were with him.

you closed the door, locking it and heading out to his car. you got in the passenger’s seat, sighing happily as you and zuko made eye contact once again. you couldn’t help but get lost in his ember eyes, they were so pretty.

“so, where are you going?” you asked.

“um, somewhere not warm,” zuko answered, starting the car.

“hm, gonna keep it a secret from me? this isn’t a good way to start a relationship,” you joked.

zuko chuckled, “i think you’ll like it.”

“me, too,” you smiled.

as he drove, you two talked about the rest of your plans for christmas break. you were planning on heading back up to see your parents for the rest of the break, and he was planning on having a new year’s party with his family. he had invited you, to which you had happily accepted.

“you sure it won’t interfere with your family plans?” zuko asked.

“nope. i usually come back here a day before new year’s eve because the girls and i also plan a party,” you reassured him.

“ah, i see. well, good. are you girls still planning a party?” zuko asked.

“hm, probably not. and if they do, they’ll just have to have to without me because i’ll be at a much cooler party,” you chuckled.

“yes, you will,” zuko smiled.

you hummed, your hand making its way to his subconsciously. his hand was on the gear shift, per usual. you set your hand on his, liking the warmth that he provided.

zuko smiled at your gesture, happy that you two have grown close and were comfortable enough with each other to do those types of things. he loved feeling your skin on his. whether it was with hand-holding, cuddling, or kissing - which you two hadn’t done yet, but he had thought about it many times.

he drove for another 10 minutes, finally arriving at the date place.

“you brought me to a dark parking lot?” you chuckled.

zuko sighed, “yeah, i know i look sketchy right now, but i promise you’re safe.”

you smiled, “i know, don’t worry. i feel most safe with you, anyways.”

those words made zuko’s heart flutter. every guy liked hearing that they made a girl feel safe, especially when it was a girl who the guy had been crushing on hard for almost 3 months, which was you for him.

“i’m glad,” zuko said and got out of the car. you followed in his suit, seeing him go to the trunk of his car. he pulled out a small picnic basket.

“a picnic in december?” you asked.

zuko shrugged sheepishly, “aang said this was a cute idea. plus, we aren’t staying here.”

“alright. well, lead the way,” you smiled.

he nodded and slid his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. you walked close to him, puting your head on his shoulder. you were grateful he radiated heat, otherwise you would be freezing.

you two stopped in front of a bunch of trees. zuko turned to you.

“close your eyes for me, okay?” he asked.

you nodded shutting your eyes tight. zuko put his arms around you, your body stiffening from his touch, but almost immediately relaxing. zuko walked you forward slowly. you were nervous, but extremely excited. you couldn’t wait for what zuko had planned.

“alright, open your eyes,” zuko said softly.

you opened your eyes slowly, the cold air hitting them immediately. your jaw fell as you saw a beautiful scene in front of you.

zuko had taken you to a light show. it was in a part of the city where they would put up all types of christmas lights in the shape of a tree, abominable snowman, snow, stars, snowmen, children ice skating, etc. you remembered your parents would take you here when you were a little girl and drive around so you could see the lights. it was one of the most fondest memories you had of your childhood, and now, you were spending it with the greatest guy on earth.

“do you like it?” zuko asked.

you looked at him, smiling. “i love it. how did you know about this place?”

“aang told me you loved this place as a kid, and that you hadn’t been to it in a while. i thought it would be nice to take you here for our first date,” zuko said.

“i love it, thank you. this is such a cute date idea. you are perfect,” you said.

“thank you. let’s sit at the gazebo,” zuko said, pointing to the building across from you. you nodded excitedly, taking his hand in yours and running to it.

once you got to the gazebo, zuko set out the picnic blanket that he folded into the basket. he got the food he prepared, too. he had made noodles, egg tarts, jasmine tea, moon cakes, and roasted turtleduck.

“hm, smells so good. you made all this?” you asked, sitting down.

“yep,” zuko smiled proudly.

“wow, he’s romantic and cooks. what more can a girl want?” you teased

“i know,” zuko chuckled. “my mom and grandpa taught me how to cook.”

“that’s really cool. i can’t cook for shit. i swear, i always end up burning everything,” you laughed, cutting yourself a peice of the duck.

“i can teach you,” zuko suggested.

your mind immediately went to a cute, very romantic date where he would teach you two how to cook, then after when you got to desert, you two would go back into your bedroom.

“that sounds very fun,” you smiled.

“i think so, too,” zuko smiled, taking a sip of tea.

you two talked while eating. after you finished, zuko and you had decded to lay down and admire the lights.

you had cuddled into zuko’s side, his arm around you, holding you close. your head was on his chest, tucked under his chin. your legs were intertwined with his, too. you sighed contently, you couldn’t remember a time where you had felt this happy.

zuko looked down at you with a love-filled look. he pulled you to him impossibly closer. he couldn’t believe you were with him in this moment. after mai, he wasn’t sure he would really like or trust anyone else. but you made it easy. you were kind, funny, so sweet and smart. you didn’t try to act tough like mai, and you definitely were not afraid of showing your feelings. you also had good intentions. you were the perfect girl for him.

“thank you for taking me out tonight. i’ve had lots of fun,” you said, sitting up and looking into his eyes.

“me, too. i’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while,” zuko said.

“well, i’m glad it happened when it did,” you smiled.

“me, too,” zuko said.

you looked at his face, not being able to stop yourself from staring down at his lips. he noticed this and put his hand up to your cheek, running his thumb slowly along your skin. his rings felt cold, but good against your face. his eyes traveled down to your lips as well, going back up to your eyes for permission. you looked back up to his eyes, leaning forward.

you weren’t sure what was happening. well, you did, but your heart was racing a mile a minute. the way his thumb was rubbing against your skin had your stomach knot up. the fact that there was barely any space between you and him made your mind a little foggy, and made you figet with your thighs.

“i’ve never kissed anyone before,” you said breathlessly.

“just go with your instinct,” zuko said, his other hand finding your waist, squeezing reassuringly.

you nodded, leaning in more. before you knew it, you two were kissing. you two took it slow, savoring the feeling. his lips were soft and very good at kissing. the way they moved with your’s, the fact that his lips fit perfectly with your’s, put butterflies in your stomach. you couldn’t think of another perfect moment.

for someone who hadn’t kissed anyone before, zuko thought you were amazing. your lips moved with his expertly, making him imagine fireworks shooting off in his brain. his hand on your waist pulled you impossibly closer, wanting to feel you right against him. you took the hint and swung your leg around his waist, climbing on top of him without breaking the kiss. your hands wrapped themsleves in his hair, pulling slightly.

zuko ran his tongue on your bottom lip. you opened your mouth almost immediately, taking in a shallow breath of air. your tongues clashed, you quietly moaning in response. zuko’s grip on your waist got tighter as you two fought for dominance while kissing.

it wasn’t too long before you had to pull away for hair. once you two did, big smiles rested on your faces. zuko admired the way you looked in the dim light. you hair was slightly messy from laying down and running your fingers through it. your cheeks were flushed and lips wet and a little swollen from kissing him. your lipstick was also smudged slightly.

“that was um... amazing,” you panted.

zuko took a deep breath, his going up to your hands. he intertwined each of your fingers together.

“wanna do it again?” he asked.

you giggled and leaned down, “definitely.”

————

note - hope you guys read and enjoy this as new parts are added! if you wanna be on the taglist, message me and/or reply to this post :))

taglist - @sorrythatspussynal @theblueslytherin @charlenasaxen @akiris @the-paintedlady @thatarthistorynerd @freckled-and-daydreaming @fi-chanwrites

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #zuko smau #zuko imagine #fire lord zuko x reader #atla zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #atla zuko #atla aang #sokka atla #atla suki #atla x reader #atla smau #atla toph #atla katara