#shakafic

[eerythingisshaka]

A Night in Wakanda

A/N: Just Shuri giving Namor a tour of Wakanda.  A smidge explicit, very light.  My first writing in almost 2 years so let me get me feet wet with this and I’ll definitely work on more.

Word Count: 1.7k

Peering at the mural, Namor idolizes the image before him.  The characterized version of himself, tussling with the menacing and all powerful Black Panther.  His years are beyond all who are of Earth but for the first time he finds himself truly impressed with the princess who fought valiantly against him.

He touches his cheek, fingers grazing over the now fully healed skin that Shuri embedded her claws into.  Just once, Namor hoped that scar would linger a bit longer.  

His people clamored about to discuss everything from protection of their vibranium mines to future plans with Wakanda to a possible parade for the safe return of K’uk’ulkan and he had had enough.

“Leave me to think,” Namor directs, barely raising his voice.  This is enough to scatter the room peacefully in under a second.  It is hard for him to concentrate and there is an ache deep within him that causes further frustration.  Sleep won’t do, food isn’t the cure, and alcohol is a waste of time for him.  

Suddenly he hears a low hum.  His ears twitch in time with the vibrations in the water and he knows exactly where it is coming from.  Namor catapults his way through the waves, feeling his heart race from the opportunity he is being met with.

Bursting out, he shakes the water out of his eyes and sees exactly what he needs to see.

Shuri stands across from him on the shore, arms crossed and foot tapping softly against the earth.  “You’re late.”

Namor takes a beat before responding.  “You didn’t blow hard enough.  I could barely hear.”

“That sounds like a problem for the maker of your conch, not me.  I blew it as I always have, or maybe your satellites need unclogging.”  Shuri pulls nonchalantly at her ear lobe.  

Namor’s mouth twitches before clearing his throat to speak.  “Do you have a reason for summoning me, besides disrespecting someone who has lived countless lives before you?”

Shuri tosses her hands in the air.  “You’re making it too easy for me!  Don’t think I didn’t notice a smirk, you find me hilarious.”

“Do you remember our agreement?” Namor says with almost a purr in his voice.  

“Yes. I am not a goldfish as you should be well aware,just come over here,” Shuri quips, kicking at the edge of the body of water he is floating above.

Namor scoffs at her.  “Do you usually welcome royalty like this?” His winged ankles bat softly as he glides just above the water, resembling the Messiah.  Shuri clenches her jaw, not breaking eye contact as he lands in front of her.  His exquisite collar catches the sun’s light gloriously, only to rival his deep dark gaze locked on hers.

“I didn’t take you as the sensitive type, but I guess I’ll consider your feelings.  Especially when you dress like the children’s story about the emperor and his new wardrobe.  However, I will give the tour of Wakanda as we agreed.  Follow me.”

Beyond the plains stood the grand, expansive world that is Wakanda.  Despite the amount of area it controls, the true quantity of its richness is only felt once seen in person.  Shuri and Namor stroll through downtown Wakanda with Dora Milaje in tow.

“I must say for a land dwelling, this is quite beautiful,” Namor says in genuine amazement.  Shuri looks to him and feels her pride grow in her chest.

“A God amazed?  Wow I am good!”  Shuri smiles as Namor shakes his head slightly.

“Humble as you are, I must agree.  There are some benefits to land still.  That bullet train system seems cozier than the water current system we have in Talokan.”

“Yes, and,” Shuri inhales the air, wafting dramatically with her hands, “You can’t beat the smell of the cooking.  As much as I enjoyed the refreshments in that cave, you cannot beat a Wakandan meal.  Are you ready to join me for that?  I believe with our walk we should arrive just in time for what has been prepared.”

Namor puts a hand to his chest, “I am honored to share your table, princess.”

Once Namor and Shuri arrive at the dining hall, Shuri thanks the Dora Milaje for their services as they close the door on their way out.  A table with fresh fruits, whole roasted fishes, steamed vegetables and breads with varieties of spread and more than a few bottles of wine.

“Wow, is this another practical joke on me and my appetite, princess?” Namor says lightly as he encounters the dinner table.

Shuri watches him approach the spread with her hands clasped tightly behind her.  “I’m sure with your physique you won't indulge too much but I wanted to make things comfortable for you.  As my guest.”

Namor looks back at Shuri, extending his hand to the table.  “Then, please.  I cannot start without my host.”

Sitting across from each other both share stories of their lives, tragic and joyous.  Despite Shuri having significantly less years on Earth than him, Namor was fully curious about her life.

“And so a red machine man with a golden stone in his forehead was the reason the…snap occurred?  I really thought I had seen everything.”  Namor gives an exasperated sigh as he sips from his glass, incredulous of the details.

Shuri twists up her face, “Wellll, not the whole reason.  He was one last step for the purple alien giant and his golden glove.”

“Ah!  That’s right.  And the green one is…”

Shuri claps her hands, “A good guy!  Bruce Banner.  He goes by that more than hulk now, even though he looks more like Hulk than Bruce Banner.  There are more but I cannot focus on going down that rabbit hole.”

Namor leans back in his chair, fixing his gaze on her.  “You have seen many more things than I imagined.  Your only question for me was if I ever seen a dinosaur and I’m hearing from you tales of men from outer space.”

Shuri picks at her teeth, feeling much more comfortable with a full stomach.  “And you thought the surface world was the problem.  I can’t wait for you to know what the galaxy holds.  That reminds me!”

Shuri gets up and retrieves an ornate box from across the room and walks it back to him.  Namor gets up, meeting her halfway.  

“Although, this may be unnecessary as I spared you your life…” Shuri pauses as Namor’s eyes smile down at her, “I wanted to give you something as a courtesy.  Your mother’s bracelet helped to bring back the Heart Shaped Herb for my people and restore the mantle of Black Panther.  Therefore, I wanted to give you this.”

Laid inside is a set of kimoyo bead earrings, customized with teal and emerald engravings of his mother tongue.  Namor takes a breath to respond.

“They look beautiful, princess.  I am so grateful to you.”

Shuri takes one and presses it, causing it to emit a light.  “These have many purposes; however, the most important feature is for communication.  They are upgraded to withstand the pressure of the depths of Talokan and so if your ‘satellites’ malfunction and cannot hear the conch, this will work just as well.”

Namor holds his hand out to take the little bead from Shuri.  “And is this a direct line to you?”

Shuri nods.  “Of course!”

“Good, I hoped for as much.”  Namor’s eyes lock onto Shuri’s in a way that makes her shuffle her stance, but her eyes won’t break the stare.  Taking the earring back, she closes the box and sets it down at the table they previously shared.  She hears his footsteps behind her approaching.

“Stop.”  His steps halt instantly.  As she faces him, her heartbeats strongly in her chest.  She can tell Namor’s breath is heavier as his chest rises and falls.

“Do you need a glass of water?”  Shuri questions, gripping the table behind her to remain steady.

Namor simply shakes his head.

“Good.  Wouldn’t want you to dry out.”

“Neither should you, princess,”  Namor says in a tempting manner, taking one step closer, then two.

Shuri takes her half full glass of wine and tosses it in his face.  Namor barely blinks, wiping the side of his face and licking his fingers clean.  “I appreciate the offer, but I would like something more than that.”

Shuri reaches out to grab him under his jaw, slamming him against the wall.  Namor’s breath is shallow under her grip as she licks the wine from his lips and in his mouth,  Namor moans into her mouth gratefully, gripping her waist to press her against him.

“Your shorts hide very little you know,”  Shuri says, letting her hands explore the power of his chest, grasping at every peak and valley of muscle.

“There’s nothing for me to hide when you are here, princess.  I want you to know all of me, as I hope you let me in you.”

Namor takes her face in his hands, tongues dancing together as he melts into her. He enjoys her mouth on his and tasting her lips, giving them a bite.

Shuri pushes him back, knocking the wind out of him slightly.  “Take them off, K’uk’ulkan.”

Namor’s hands pull desperately at his waistband, bringing them down and carefully off his winged ankles.

Shuri takes in the sight of the nude king before him.  “I see why many have kneeled before you all these centuries, good for you.”

Namor chuckles, standing confidently in front of her.  “That could be one reason, but I do not want you to kneel.  Instead, I wish for you to give me that opportunity.”

Shuri turns her chair out from the table, hiking up her simple black dress as she sits down.  Looking Namor in his eyes she spreads her legs to him, biting her lip as her arousal intensifies. 

“Do you feel worthy to kneel before me?”  Shuri asks.

Namor puts one hand on his hip and the other wipes his mouth, looking like a man in desperate need of a drink.  “I won’t say I am worthy, not to you princess.  But I am indebted to you and wish to please you.”

Shuri pats her inner thigh.  “Come.”

Namor takes a couple steps before getting down on his hands and knees, crawling to her.  

“May I touch you, princess?”  Namor’s deep dark eyes look up expectantly to Shuri, mere centimeters away from her center.

“You may, but just your tongue,”  Shuri commands.

Namor’s head dips as he unfurls his tongue, gliding it along her lips from the bottom to the top making Shuri’s body jolt involuntarily.

“I won’t need water long as I am here, princess.”

#shakafic #namor x shuri

[womensummer22]

After reading Elif Shakaf's "Three Daughters of Eve", I began to look more into what it is like for female, Turkish muslims. A few times I saw articles about the ban of Islamic headscarves, which was lifted a few years ago. This was really interesting to me because it seems like something strange to have been banned in the first place. Women of conservative religious backgrounds, like Peri's mother in the novel we read, were banned from wearing the hijabs by their government, which in a way forced them to appear less conservative. My favorite line in this particular article about the lifting of the hijabs ban was, "the lifting of the ban on headscarves ends a disgraceful human rights abuse that took away futures of generations of women in Turkey".

[polyglottraveler]

My 10 favorite books

1) On the road, by Jack Kerouac: this is my favorite book ever. It talks about travel, adventure, poetry and the life of the beat generation. I love how it’s written, really simply, like a diary. You enter in the life of this group of friends and you can’t put the book down. 

2) Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac: I’m a big fan of Jack Kerouac so I wanted to include this one too. Just like on the road the book is fille of adventures, a lot of hiking, some philosophy...  

3) The mother, by Pearl Buck: this is a very difficult book, very sad, very heartbreaking but at the same time very interesting and captivating. It tells the story of a poor Chinese family in rural china, just before the birth of communism

4) The grapes of wrath by John Steinbeck: John Steinbeck is my second favorite author after Jack Kerouac. I love all of his books but this one has a special place in my heart because it’s the first one I read and an amazing story about a family who lives (more like survives) in the times of the great depression. This book is a classic so I guess I don’t really have to present it honestly if you haven’t read it yet, do it 

5) Roots, by Alex Haley: this is a very beautiful book, which tells the story of Kunta Kinte, a man from Gambia who was captured by white men and became a slave in the United States, and then the story of all his descendants on 8 generations. The author is actually the descendant of Kounta and travelled to Gambia to know more about his ancestors, which history has been preserved thanks to the oral tradition 

6) Evolution man or how I ate my father by Roy Lewis: It’s been so long since I last read but I love this book, it’s hilarious and an easy and fun read 

7) The story of my experiments with truth, by Gandhi: this book can change your life. Gandhi tells his story, it’s basically an autobiography and I love how it portrays him like a normal man, who was far from perfect and who made mistakes, but you can still see that he was an incredible man and that he really did his best to help people, and India and elesewhere 

8) Takes of the Otori, by Lian Hearn: this was my favorite series when I was a kid (even though I wouldn’t recommend it for kids younger than 12-13 because some scenes shocked me). I haven’t read the books for years but I still felt like including it in my list because I loved the books so much and it’s a big part of my early teenage years. It takes place in a fictional medevial Japan, there’s a lot of battles, treasons, ninjas, adventures... everything it takes to make a good book ;) Everytime sometimes say that there are so many deaths in Games of thrones I just think about this series and I’m like lol. I have actually never met someone who has read this book so if you have please tell me what you thought about it because I don’t know if I’m the only who was (is?) obsessed with this book

9) The kite runner, by Khaled Hoseini: I first discovered the movie, and loved it so much that I read the book and I really didn’t regret it 

10) Las venas abiertas de América de Latina by Eduardo Galaneo: this is not a novel and does not tell the story of a character, but the story of Latin America through the last five centuries. Before the colonisation, the horrors fo the colonisation and until this day how the richest countries abused and still abuse of the resources and the people of Latin America. I promise it’s not boring at all, it’s very well written by a passionate Uruguayan autor and in my opinion it’s a must read 

Other books I love if you’re looking for inspiration: - The handmaid’s tale by Margaret Atwood  - The hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy by Douglas Adams  - To kill a mockingbird, by Harper Lee  - The motorcicles diaries, by Che Guevara  - The bastard of Istanbul by Elif Shakaf  - The pearl and East of Eden by John Steinbeck  - The stranger by Albert Camus 

#books #favorite book #best books #books list #books recommendations #reading #book lover #bookworm #langblr #languages

[sapiarch]

List of Fictions

Movies:

Zardoz 

Books:

Elif Shakaf: The Forty Rules of Love: on Sufi poet Rumi

#movies #books #fiction

[ecstasyinstants]

Esta novela estuvo a punto de costarle la cárcel en su momento a Elif Shakaf, ya que el gobierno turco la acusó de "insultar a los turcos" con esta historia, me imagino que sería por la forma en que la autora se refiere al genocidio armenio y no se corta un pelo, tema tabú por la forma en que cuenta que la mayoría de los turcos no eran conscientes o no querían ser conscientes sobre el tema; novela escrita en inglés pero publicada primero en Turquia (se tradujo del inglés al turco), levantó ampollas pero al mismo tiempo fue un auténtico bestseller. Tengo que decir que la novela me ha maravillado de alguna forma por la interconexión de los personajes. Al principio es dificil situarse, por los nombres turcos y porque la autora te los presenta aisladamente, los primeros capitulos son como historias aisladas hasta que llegado un momento empiezas a entrever la relación entre ellos. Y poco a poco las historias se van acercando hasta que confluyen. Es ante todo una historia de mujeres, pocos hombres, asi que estamos hablando de matriarcado, hermanas, hijas, abuelas, aunque podriamos decir que las guias, las dos protagonistas que ayudan al lector a centrarse, son Asya y Armanoush, la primera turca y la segunda armenio americana, las últimas de la generación, jóvenes y curiosas, que se encuentran en un momento dado de la novela en Estambul y empieza el recorrido por la identidad personal, la memoria, la riqueza de ambas culturas. En este sentido es una novela exuberante por la riqueza que despliega la autora al describirnos ambas culturas, turca y armenia, eternamente enfrentadas y eternamente unidas. Quizás lo que más me ha interesado de la novela más que el pasado histórico, todavía un trauma, es la búsqueda de la identidad de ambas protagonistas: Armanoush es hija de padres divorciados, de madre americana y padre armenio y vive en Estados Unidos, en medio de ambas culturas, su madre quiere que sea americana (es la única en llamarla Amy) y la familia de su padre la arrastra a sus raices, asi que ella está en medio. Y por otra parte está Asya, turca, hija ilegitima, no sabe quién fue su padre y es la que da titulo a la novela. Elif Shakaf es una escritora poderosa, segura y valiente y con esta novela consigue lo imposible: que vivamos Turquia, que respiremos sus olores, sus sabores, y aunque no es una novela estrictamente sobre un pais o una ciudad como Estambul sino casi una novela "global", el lector se hace una idea muy clara de los conflictos y cultura de este pais a través de la historia de dos familias, sobre todo de sus mujeres. (Recomiendo que mientras se vaya leyendo, se vaya dibujando el arbol genealógico de las dos familias a medida que vayan saliendo. Al principio parece que lo tienes controlado, pero a medida que la novela avanza y hacia el final, es un recurso que puede ayudar)

La Bastarda de Estambul, de Eli Shafak

#la bastarda de estambul #eli shafak #mi reseña #my review

[onlyhuman84]

Je viens d'achever le roman d'Elif Shakaf " Soufi,mon Amour" c'est vraiment un énorme coup de coeur!! Ce roman alterne entre l'histoire d'Ella et d'Aziz en 2008 et l'histoire de Shams et Rûmi dans les années 1240...On y suit les péripéties de ces deux couples entrecoupés par les règles soufis...J'ai vraiment adoré rentrer complètement dans ce monde mystique mais aussi très réaliste et je pense que les régles énoncées représentent une belle philosophie de vie! Un livre absolument à lire!!! #bookstagram#elifshakaf#soufimonamour#lecture#coupdecoeur#philosophiedevie#mystique#soufisme#réalité#apprendreàvoirleschosesautrement#viequotidienne#premièrelecturedejuillet2019 https://www.instagram.com/p/Bzq2A3FICbi/?igshid=1hjpaxl5il5qq

#bookstagram #elifshakaf #soufimonamour #lecture #coupdecoeur #philosophiedevie #mystique #soufisme #réalité #apprendreàvoirleschosesautrement #viequotidienne #premièrelecturedejuillet2019

[markhylicious]

my kind of post night duty dinner! #cravingsatisfied #Omanventures2017 #Omanized #WheninMuscat #Shakaf #tawooq (at Muscat, Oman)

#omanventures2017 #omanized #wheninmuscat #shakaf #tawooq #cravingsatisfied

[starstruckteacup]

You don’t have to send one back but one of my favorite quotes is “War is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate.” By Marvin Gaye!

That’s a great one! Thank you for sending it in!

“Every true love and friendship is a story of unexpected transformation. If we are the same person before and after we loved, that means we haven’t loved enough.” -Elif Shakaf 💕

#starstruck answers #teacup asks #mutual support #quote

[eerythingisshaka]

PUT THE FIC IN THE BAG

I like that aggression

#im back #that damn man has me feral and im ready to let it loose #there will be several lmao #shakafic

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #20 “All the Fun We Had”

[Jason Momoa  Reader]

Word Count: 980

Looking across the party at him, you notice he can’t take his eyes off of you.  Even as you bite into your sampling of charcuterie, crumbs falling to your chin and chest, wiping the bits away clumsily, he smile as if you just took a bow on stage.  

Walking up to him, you meet his gaze, sneakily pulling him close to you by his belt loop.

“You ready to get out of here?”

You shiver as you walk through the door from the cold, rubbing your hands to speed up your warming process.

“God, that was a really good visit, wasn’t it?”

Jason takes off his coat, tossing it over the nearby banister.  “Uh huh.”  He helps unravel your scarf as you continue.

“Thanks, babe.  I mean, I really think I connected with your family today.  It felt so nice.” 

“Gimme your foot.”  He says, holding out his hands to catch your foot as he slides your booties off.  

“That house is real pretty too.  Like the vibes being so natural, very handmade and wholesome but tough and long lasting.”

Jason smiles at you as he slides the other shoe off, letting it fall by the front door.  “Runs in the family I guess.  We’re very good with our hands when we need to be.”

You nod as you unbutton your coat, but Jason playfully slaps your hands away, taking control to continue the undoing.

You turn away from his as he slides your coat off your shoulders.  “Maybe next time they can show me how to make that bread and spread they served before dinner.  I’m not a huge fan of spinach, but that cream cheese was absolutely delicious.  And I bet they can make a cheesy version of the bread, with some feta maybe?”

Jason hugs you from behind, kissing your neck as you rattle on.  “That would be good.  You know what else would be good?”

You snap your fingers.  “Oh!  You know what I feel like?  Watching that Jingle Jangle movie everyone’s talking about!”

Jason releases you with a sigh as you make your way upstairs.  “I’ll bring some wine upstairs for us since you’re feeling chatty, ok?”

“Yeah!  Sounds good!”  you shout back.

A few moments later, Jason enters the bedroom with two glasses in one hand and the bottle of red in the other.  You step out of the bathroom, midway through changing into your sleep clothes.

“Go ahead and start the movie for me.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

Jason plops on the end of the bed, picking up the remote.  “What’s it called again?”

“Jingle Jangle!  It’s so cute and I have to see what Forest Whitaker does for a musical!”

Jason arduously types in each letter in the search bar before it pops up, stopping short of playing it to pour the wine.

You pop out of the bathroom in an oversized shirt and jump on the bed excitedly.  “Here we go!  Gimme my drink and start!”

Jason does so, sitting back  as he takes a sip from his glass.  Looking at you from his angle on the bed he smiles.  Instinctively you look back and catch him staring.

“What is it?”  you ask.

He shrugs.  “You looked gorgeous today.”

You sip your wine, patting his leg as you go back to looking at your movie.  “Thanks, big guy!  I wanted to make a good impression and that dress has been calling my name for a minute!”

As the opening number plays in the movie, Jason sets his glass aside, running his hand across your back and down to your hip.  This is hard for you to ignore as you snort into your glass.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch this.”

But Jason doesn’t move, opting instead to kiss your shoulder, down your arm and to your hand, Gomez Addams style.  

“I swear, if you make me miss this movie,” you warn, putting your glass on the floor as he kisses each knuckle on your hand noisily.

“I just want to show my baby how much of a goddess she has been today.”  Jason wraps his arms around you, growling as he pulls you backwards on the bed.

“Nooo!  Stop!  The movie just started!”  you whine as he attacks your sides with busy fingers, prodding your softest parts to elicit giggles.

“Then it’s the perfect time to pause,  he says by doing so; swiftly taking the remote from behind his back and pointing it at the TV.

Your mouth flies open.  “Come on!!  I just wanna relax!”

Jason hovers above you, sweeping his hand between your thighs.  “I know you do, you deserve it.  That’s what I’m trying to do.”

You push his hand down defiantly.  “Is that what this is for?  My benefit?”  You brush past him to get to the remote just before grabbing your waist, pulling him under you again.  You lie on your stomach and push play.  

“Give me a massage then.  Maybe that will relax me.”

Jason sighs saying, “Treating me like I’m your servant,” pushing your shirt up as he kneads his wide hands across your skin slowly.  You moan in response.

“You do gooooood work though.  It’s the least I could ask for after socially exhausting myself.”

As the movie transitions to a new scene, you feel the pressure of his lips on your lower back.  

“Jason…”

“I’ve been waiting to do this all night.  Seeing you work a room, I got nervous and forgot you were mine,” he whispers.  You hear the need in his voice as you pause the movie turning your face more towards him. 

“You’re so silly with that.  How can you forget I’m your girl.”

You turn on your back as he crawls over you, pushing his hair back.  “It’s not that I forget you are.  But that feeling like ‘Damn, I need to talk to her.  I want to know her’ always pops into my head.  Then I go up and hold your hand and I get so happy that you’re even real.”

You roll your eyes, feeling exposed.  “Geez, get any sweeter, I’ll have to get a shot.”

He shakes his head.  “No, no shot.”  He plants his mouth firmly on top of yours as your arms envelop his neck.  “Just some time...in bed with me...helping you relax.”

#shakafic #ficmas #jason momoa x reader

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #4 “I’ll Be Home for Simu”

[Simu Liu x Reader]

Word Count: 1k

Under your blanket, sprawled out, and unaware of the world, your mind ponders everything all while doing nothing.  It doesn’t make sense to you how you can have all your basic needs met and yet remain unsatisfied within yourself.  A small part of you knew why though but you weren’t ready to confront it.

“Psst.”

“Mm,” you groan, tugging at your comforter tighter over your head as a cocoon.

You hear the light thud of Simu’s footsteps as he makes his way to your bedside and pulls at your blanket.

“Simu, please,”  you whine.  He sighs out loud as your body changes shape under the sheets from an upside down Y to a kind of seahorse fetal position.

“I just wanna know what’s up with you.  You haven’t talked to me like, all day.”

“I did,” you say.

“Asking for the toilet paper from the hall closet doesn’t count.  I mean why are you upset?”

His soft tone is inviting but you fight hard with yourself and clamp your jaw down to brick up your feelings once again.  Simu feels the war of attrition with no signs of retreat, sitting in front of you on the edge of the bed.

You feel uneasy the closer he gets.  “Go home!  I’m fine!”  

“I think you were like this last year too,”  he says.  “We hadn’t been dating long by then so I didn’t notice and just assumed you maybe you weren’t ready to celebrate the holidays with me cuz that’s a big deal, you know?”

Your face grows hot with anxiety of what he is about to say.  You feel your body heat collect under the blanket as the carbon dioxide you expel weakens the oxygen quality.

“But then when we talked about what we did for Christmas, you never really said anything substantial.  You didn’t mention family at all, and tried to change the subject.”

You pull at the blanket to open for air but his butt is on the exact edge you need for freedom.

“Now I come here to surprise you for the holidays and you’ve been just...sullen and reserved and it’s like I can’t get next to you-”

“Simu, get off please,”  you request anxiously.

Simu smacks his knees in frustration.  “See?  Why would I leave you like this?  You’re my girl, I’m supposed to-”

“No, literally.  Get up, I can’t breathe!”  you exclaim, shaking the comforter from all sides once Simu got the clue to let you pop up and take a deep relieving breath.

“God!  This blanket is too good, it practically suffocated me with warmth!”

Simu looks down at you, frazzled with your bonnet half back off your head and one boob dangerously close to crossing peeking fully out the side.  When you look up at him, he gives a waning smile that brings you back down again.  You adjust your bonnet and lay back on your pillows once again, beckoning him over with a wave.

You shuffle further to one side as he slides under the covers next to you, bringing his arm around you but you raise your hands in protest.

“No hug right now, I just want to talk.”

Simu stays on his side, looking intently at you.  “Do you not want me to be here?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then what’s making you moody?”

You shrug, looking out the window as snowflakes dance across the night sky.  “That used to make me happy.”  You point at the window.  “All of the signs for the holiday:  lights, snow, pumpkin spice and mocha peppermints, the TV specials.  But for a long time now, my spirit just hasn’t been in it.” “Did something happen during the holidays that changed you?”

You scoff at his question.  “What didn’t happen?  Arguments, disappointment, loneliness, sickness, death.  I mean people think because it’s the ‘Most Wonderful Time of the Year' nothing bad happens, but for me, nothing but bad happens.  It’s too much pressure to make shit perfect.”

Simu clears his throat.  “You know, this would be a great time for a hug, but for now I will use my words.  I’m not super crazy about the holidays either.  A lot of people aren’t, for those reasons and then some.  But luckily now I can use the holiday time to do stuff that I like and may not fit in the cookie cutter traditions but it works for me.”

You look up at him expectantly.  “Like what?”

He squares off his shoulders, puffing out his cheeks.  “Well, first of all, the snow out there?  Perfect for making some snow families.  I’m talking about snowmen, snow wife, and snow babies.  It’s falling so hard and fast, I can’t wait to go out there tomorrow and get to building.”

You snort at the idea.  “What a wholesome concept.”

He smirks at you.  “And then when I come in around noon, one o’clock and you’re just waking up and wiping the sleep out of your eyes, I’ll get some of those jumbo marshmallows and hot chocolate together so we can sit at the table and sit with the hot mugs in our hands while you’re wrapped up like an old lady mumbling about what you want to do for the day.”

You pinch his solid bicep as he winces.  “I don’t sleep late!  You keep me up with your snoring so I have to make up for it!”

He raises his hands.  “I have never been told that I snore.  But I will say you are the cutest when your mouth is hanging open slightly in the middle of your sleep.  So peaceful yet so-”

You reach under the covers and dig your nails into his sides, making him hoot and holler from the avalanche of tickling you strike down on him.  He brings his arms over your head, squishing your face into his chest.

“Simu, stop!  You’re smothering me!”

“Stop attacking me then!”

You both sit in a stalemate as your nails sit on top of his rib area, contemplating your next move.  You risk it all, digging a nail slightly deeper and Simu swiftly lifts the back of your shirt to slap his palm across.

“Why are your hands so cold!?”  you exclaim, bucking against him as you release your grip on his torso.  He rubs his hands over your back swiftly, creating heat, diminishing his icy touch.

“Cold hands, warm heart, babe.”  He says with a deep grin while holding you tight into him.  You feel the warmth of his chest against you as you fall deep into the snuggle, melting your anxiety and frustration progressively,

“I don’t want you to go.  I’m really glad you came,” you say finally.

Simu kisses your forehead.  “I’m always glad to see you.  You’re my snow wife.”

You giggle, inhaling him in comfortably.  “So we’re supposed to be makin some snow babies tomorrow?  In all that damn cold?”

“Let that be my Christmas present, going half on a snow baby with me.  Deal?”

“Ha!  Deal.  Just better make that hot chocolate extra rich for me.”

#ficmas #shakafic #simu liu x reader

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #9 “Rio rings, are you listening?”

[Rio x Reader]

Word Count: 1.4k

Across the street from the church, you grow more and more hesitant.  It has been a while since you stepped foot in one and even longer since you practiced any faith.  You take a minute to look up at the steeple, illuminated by the warm glow behind colored glass in the window.  Your breath creates quickly dissipating clouds in front of your face as the wind whips in your direction.  You push your hands deeper into our pockets, looking both ways before stepping out into the street.

Your boots crunch over the salt rocks scattered over the concrete steps as you make your way to the heavy wood doors.  Even through your mitt, you can feel how cold the brass handles our as you pull it open and step inside.

The atmosphere is instantly quieter once you pass the threshold and the door closes with a low tone thunk.  Looking around you see an effigy of Jesus on the cross with a spotlight on him.  Your eyes cast downward at the sight, feeling instantly judged and fearful that lightning might strike you down for presenting yourself this late in your life.  Walking down the pew lined aisle, you look around at the candles that line the windows, decorated with faux holly leaves.  You take a seat in the middle of the right side, squeaking under your weight.

Breathing in deeply, your nose catches a faint smell of frankincense in the air, bringing back memories of blessed oil and healing.

“Well, I’m here,” you say out loud, at first to know one in particular but looking up, you remember your audience.  “Or I guess you know that already.”

Looking down at your mittened hands, you have many thoughts but none of them fully prepared to come out.

“Good evening.”

You hop up out of your seat as you look to see a man in all black walking across the front of the church slowly, hands behind his back and looking down.  His voice did not match his stance as he sounds very strong and commanding.  

“Hi!  Uh, I just was looking for somewhere quiet to sit awhile,”  you explain.

He stops in front of you, rows of pews separating yourselves from each other.  

“Are the library’s closed?” he asks.

“Yes.  I mean, no?  I don’t know actually, I can leave though if-”

He raises a hand.  “No need.  Take a seat.”

“Yes, Reverend.  Or Priest?”  You struggle to get his proper titling down.

“You can just call me Rio.  For now.”  

The rasp in his voice seems calming and also violent, as if he just got through yelling at someone or is just about to at any moment because his vocal cords have been worked out.  Preachers do enjoy a stirring sermon to work a collection plate flow.

“Ok, sure.”  You sit down again, even more uncomfortable than before.  Rio looks over the altar, peering up at Jesus for a while.  You can’t help but to stare, curious if he’s going to remain here with you.

“Are you a member of this church?”  Rio asks with his back to you.

“No.  I was a while ago, but I don’t think it counts now.”

Rio looks back at you.  “I don’t think God has a re-registration process for His sheep, right?”

You shrug.  “I think that’s when it’s up to interpretation.”

Rio shakes his head with a small smirk.  He starts to slowly walk his way up the aisle, looking around the sanctuary.

“If it’s how you interpret it, then that is based on what you feel you deserve.  Your inner bias creates that narrative you think is true,”  Rio states.

Biting your lip, you take this in.  “Still, I think there is something to be said about not giving Him the time required to fully show one’s devotion.”

Rio sits in the pew on the other side of the aisle, right across from you.  He stretches his leg out, leaning on the end armrest and looks curiously at you.  For the first time you notice some marking on his neck.

“So you decide to spend your holiday having a religious debate instead of spending it with family?”

“Oh, yeah.  Anywhere is better than having to deal with the mess they bring into my life.”  You say this half heartedly, looking to Jesus at the front again.  

“Then why are you at your childhood church?”

You scoff.  “Do I look that young that you assume I was a child here?”

RIo smiles, looking away.  “Maybe.  Just a guess.”

“You’re right.  And I came here to try and resolve some things.  My family doesn’t know I am here yet.  They will be here tomorrow for Christmas service and I got curious what the place looks like now while...searching for some spiritual courage.”

Rio nods.  “You and your family separated on bad terms then?”

You nod.

“I see.  Then I give you credit for coming up in here even thinking about them.  You seem to be doing alright for yourself, you could just go on and work on yourself without them.”

You turn to him, stretching your face in confusion.  “I am really surprised you would say that.  First, thanks for thinking that.  Life is trash, but you can’t tell so yay!  And two, I thought you would be like I need to keep family close and repair and reach out.”

Rio shakes his head.  “Cuz I wouldn’t say that.  People think too much about how what they do affects others when you have to think is what you do better for them in the long run?  If they don’t respect you or try to, you showing up is going to be disrespectful.  But if the peace is kept between you while you’re gone, stay gone.”

“I can’t help but think that’s pessimistic.”

Rio shrugs.  “Maybe it is, but some pessimism gotta be healthy.  It’s looking at the world for what it is and accepting what you can’t change then adapting.  Just because you’re away doesn’t mean you can’t love them or they love you less.  But some people just can’t get along.  It’s water and oil.”

You sit there flabbergasted by this man of God’s advice.  Have you been looking at this completely wrong?  Has the spirit of Christmas made you think of an artificial means of reconciliation that you aren’t prepared for and may never will be?

“Hey, Rio…” you ask in mid-thought.

“What’s up?”

“Before I head out, I just gotta know, what are those markings on your neck there?”

Rio reaches for his collar, holding his neck with a smile on his face.  “I don’t think you need to see this in a church.  I’ll let you guess though.”

You squint your eyes at him.  “If I had to guess, I imagine it’s something from...a past life?  Maybe you used to be into somethings and you got a...tattoo?”

Rio puts a finger to his lips with a wink.  “Past lives never really are the past though.”

You sit back intrigued.  “Wow, I have never seen someone in church...like you.”  You laugh nervously, enjoying his smile back at you when a man from a back door comes out in a jean jacket, skinhead with more tattoos you can see.  Rio stands up, smoothing out his shirt.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of.  I have to help the preacher prep for tomorrow’s service.”

Your eyes widen with surprise.  “You’re not the preacher?  Oh man, I’m sorry!  I just assumed, being in all black and I thought you were here alone.”

“It’s ok.  Black is just more professional.  It’s my color.  It’s powerful.  You can consider me the preacher's assistant with...finances.  But I’m glad we got to have a talk while you were here.”

You stand up, reaching out a hand.  “Me too.  It’s nice talking to someone with their head on straight.  I’ll think about all you said.”

Rio takes your hands firmly, looking down from it to you.  You feel exposed under his gaze but unwilling to turn loose from it.

“I hope I’ll see you tomorrow.  Should be a good turn out.  Good message from the big man.”

He lets go of your hand and you’re only sad you didn’t take your mitt first to know how soft or rough they were.  He makes you want to know more about him but the night is getting later.

“Ok.  I’ll be here.  You have a good Christmas Eve.”

“You as well.”  Rio nods to you as he joins his counterpart in the backroom.  You walk toward the doors you came from, looking back at the empty sanctuary, leaving with a feeling you didn’t think you’d have but is as close to a holiday spirit than you ever had.

@chaneajoyyy​

#shakafic #rio x reader #ficma

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficsmas Day #6 “Away in a Spooky Manger”

[Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader]

Word Count: 1.3k

Spooky holds you up as you holler in pain making your way to his car.

“I can’t fucking believe this.  I can’t fucking believe this shit!  Did you get the bag?”  you repeat over and over as the snow crunches under your half tied boots with each step.  Your pajama pants are as good as tissue paper at insulating your legs from the cold but the rush is on to get you to the hospital.

“It’s ok baby, we don’t need it.  The hospital has all we need.  Come on, easy,”  Spooky tries to keep you at ease as he helps lift you in the backseat of his car.

“He was supposed to be here on New Years,  I’m so pissed.”  Your anger quickly crumbles to tears as the gravity of the situation overwhelms you.  You and Spooky just finished making some cookies  and picked out your favorite Christmas movie to watch and stay up until midnight to welcome in Christmas together.

Spooky reaches for a seatbelt to put on you.  “I know, it’s fine though.  We’re gonna have our little one as a present, so that’s gonna be good!”

You smack away his hands.  “I don’t need a damn belt.  I need a tranquilizer, just fucking drive!”

Spooky closes your door and gets in the driver’s seat, peeling out as fast as he can down the road.  As he drives, you continue to curse and moan under the pressure of your body attempting to expel the baby boy you spent the last 39 weeks growing in your belly.  Pain radiates from your back to your pelvis as you sweat and squeeze the back of the seat behind Spooky’s head.

“How’re you doing?”  he asks while looking back in the rearview.

“How do you think, Oscaaaar??”  A contraction seizes you as you bellow in agony, beating his seat as he approaches a red light.

“What the fuck are you doing?”  You ask, unzipping your jacket as your body heat fights with the heat circulating in the car.

Spooky points, “It’s a red light, I can’t get another ticket.”

“If you don’t get this car moving Oscar!  What the hell is wrong with you, fuck a red light or a ticket!”

Spooky looks both ways before neglecting the laws of traffic, looking fully back at you with concern.  “You gotta calm down.  I’ll get us there, just breathe, remember?”

You give a laugh that is mired by your sounds of torture.  “How about next time I just breathe on your dick instead of letting you all up in here to plant your big headed baby, how about that huh?”

Spooky grips the steering wheel tightly as he rips around a corner, sliding on the slushy streets, and sending you flying from one end of his backseat to another.

“DAMN!  What was that for?!”  you exclaim, sitting up.

Spooky looks back again.  “Shit, you alright?  Am I going too fast?  I’m still getting used to riding in your area.  Don’t know shit about snow.”

You breathe through your nose and out of your mouth.  “I think you have to pull over.”

Spooky takes another turn, gentler this time.  “We’re almost there, like 15 minutes.”

You shake your head.  “No, no.  I’m not gonna make it.”

The engine revs a little louder as he accelerates.  “Fuck, just breathe baby.  Think of anything but the baby right now.  We’re so close to the hospital.”

Spooky looks in his rearview and sees you squirming around, grunting as you fiddle with something.

“What’s going on back there?”  Spooky asks right before a pair of grey flannel pajama bottoms of his that you like go flying in the front passenger seat.

“I can’t make it Oscarrr!”  you scream, laying flat across the back seat with your legs wide.

Spooky immediately pulls over to park, turning his whole body to see you fully ready to give birth.  His eyes are horrified as he rubs his head, trying to think.

“Ok! Ok!  Lemme call 911!”  he reaches into his pants to pull out his phone, hitting the emergency button.

“Please please come back here with me!  I need your help, I don’t wanna do this alone!”  Tears well up in your eyes as you feel like you’re being ripped in half as your baby makes his way out of your cervix.

Spooky gets out and back in the backseat with you.  He lifts you up against him, holding our head as he answers 911.

“Yeah we are on Jefferson and 38th, down by the office building.  My girl’s in labor.”  Spooky winces as you squeeze his hand, shaking your head back and forth through the pain.

“39 weeks….Contractions?  Uh like 5 minutes apart….The baby’s not out yet, I don’t know…”

Spooky goes quiet a second listening to the 911 operator.  “Shit!  Ok, I’ll see.”

Spooky gets out of the car again, causing you to panic.  “No no!  Where are you going Oscar?”  you hold your belly feeling the urge to push as he opens the other door that is in front of you, getting a clear view of burgeoning birth.

Spooky’s eyes are filled with fear and worry.  “I see him.  God, he’s coming out!  He’s got so much hair.”  He wipes his eyes as they turn red with emotion.  

“Oh God, that’s good.  Now get him out please!”  you beg Spooky as he puts the phone down and on speaker to talk to 911.

“Get a blanket, or jacket or shirt, something to wrap the baby up in,”  the operator instructs.  Sooky takes off his jacket, placing it down in front of you.

“Ok, now what?”   Spooky asks.  You cry out in pain as you instinctively push.

“That sounds like a contraction.  Every time she feels one, she needs to push and you have to be ready to catch that baby.”

“Ok, baby.  Push through the pain.  Come on.”  

“Once the baby’s head is out, don’t pull it but hold it as she pushes through the shoulders.  Is the cord around its neck?”

Spooky shakes his head as you scream.  “No, but he’s coming out so fast!”

“Get the jacket ready!”  the operator exclaims.  

Spooky looks at you straining once more to push as your child enters the world in a Carhartt jacket.  A wave of relief washes over you and you both begin to weep, looking over the prettiest gooped up screaming baby you both ever laid eyes on.

“That sounds like a good cry!  What did you have?”  the operator asks.

Spooky wraps him up tight.  “A boy.  He’s a baby boy.”  He wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt.  Looking up at you with elation.  “You did it baby, here he is.  What about the cord, do I cut it?”

“I would hold off until the ambulance arrives.  Congratulations guys, for now keep the baby warm and tight, the ambulance should be there any minute to look over the baby and get him and mom to the hospital.  Merry Christmas you all!”

“Merry Christmas,” you both say.  You hold your baby tight to you, wiping off his face as his lower lip trembles with a whimper.  Thick dark hair covers the top of his head and you pull out his little hands just to kiss them.  

“All ten,”  you look down at his narrow feet, “...toes too.”

Spook kneels on the car floor looking down at his son with you, sniffling.  “He’s got eyes like mine.  Eyebrows too.”

You nod.  “Hair too.  Damn shame.  You should grow yours so you’re twins.”

Spooky laughs.  “Maybe.”  He lays his hand on the back of your head, kissing your forehead, your nose, your lips.  “You did so good, baby.”

“I think that’s the most scared I ever seen you be, Oscar.  A little baby had the gangster on his knees today.”

Spooky sighs.  “Please. It was you being in pain, cuz I never want to see you like that, and then...he’s out and...this is some tough shit."

You cradle the side of his face as his tears roll over the tattooed ones on his face. You coo at him, trying not to laugh just because his hard demeanor has turned completely to jelly for care over his new family.

Your eyes well up again looking from him to your son.  “I still can’t believe it.  He did me dirty for this one.  I wish he had the little hat I packed for him.”

Spooky’s eye catches something in the back behind his backseat.  “Yo, yes!  Look!”

He reaches over the two of you to find navy blue bag with cartoon doggies all over.  Your heart swells at the sight.

“The bag!  Why did you stuff it back there?!”

He unzips it, excitedly rummaging around.  “For an emergency!  It’s a backup, but I put this in here...”

He reveals a grey hat with multi colored triangles down the middle that makes your baby resemble a mini sleeping dinosaur.  You both help to carefully slide it on top, keeping his eyes free although his have stay cozily closed.

You chuckle to yourself.  “You got him his first.  You did it.  Daddy brought some Christmas to him.”

Spooky kisses his son once more before noticing the approaching sirens and lights in the distance.

“I’m gonna give him a lot. You both won’t need for anything, just so he can be great.  Greater than me even.  My first born, my world.”

#shakafic #oscar diaz x reader #ficmas

[eerythingisshaka]

🎄🎅🏾Shaka's Ficmas List 🎄🎅🏾❄

A/N: This challenge was last minute, December 1st came and I figured why not do some fics up until Christmas!  No rhyme or reason behind them, just Christmas or wintry themed with some of my faves.

1. The Jabari That Stole Christmas (M’Baku x Reader)

2. A Chris Gets His Wings (Chris Evans x Reader)

3. Misfit Wakandans (T’Challa x OC)

4. I’ll Be Home For Simu (Simu Liu x Reader)

5. Gift of the Hargreeves (Diego Hargreeves x Reader)

6. Away In A Spooky Manger (Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader)

7. Jingle Bell Luke (Luke James x Reader)

8. Baking With Yahya (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Reader)

9. Rio rings, Are You Listening? (Rio x Reader)

10. I’ll Return Every Year, Ben (Ben Hargreeves x Reader)

11. I Saw Mama Kissing Santa Rhodes (Trevante Rhodes x Reader)

12. Er*k In A Box (Erik “Killmonger” Stevens x Reader)

13. Last Christmas I Gave You Y’lan (Y’lan Noel x Reader)

14. The Weather Outside Is Frightful, But Sterling Is So Delightful (Sterling K Brown x Reader)

15. Should Old Acquaintance Be Diego? (Diego Hargreeves x Reader)

16. T’Challa’s 12 Days of Christmas (T’Challa x Reader)

17. The Jabari-cracker (M’Baku x Reader)

18. Feeling of Christmas (Ben Hargreeves x Reader)

19. Santa Spooky (Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader)

20. All the Fun We Had (Jason Momoa x Reader)

21. You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out (Chris Evans x Reader)

22. Christmas Eve Will Find Eric (Eric “Killmonger” Stevens x OC)

23. Snow In Manhattan (Dr. Manhattan/Cal Abar x OC)

24. Christmas Ain’t Christmas Without Tre (Trevante Rhodes x Reader)

25. Not a Creature Was Stirring (Yahya Abdul Mateen II X Reader)

#shakafic #masterlist #ficmas

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #17 “The Jabari-cracker”

[M’Baku x Reader]

Word Count: 1.2k

This year for extra pay, you booked a gig for seasonal work at the mall; specifically, to work in Santa’s Workshop.  The classic setting with candy cane poles lining a path to the main man’s regal red and gold throne, flanked by mounds of cotton wool to simulate the terrain of the North Pole.  

The line remains long as parents and children wait impatiently for a picture with Santa Claus.  As you get dressed in the bathroom, you struggle to get your feet through the offensively green tights without risking stepping in a mysterious wetness on the floor by the toilet.  You hear the bathroom door open, followed by the intense scurry of a small child.

“Mommy!  I wanna see Santa!”  the kid exclaims, bouncing in her Mary Jane shoes as her mother’s sneakers squeak behind her. 

“I know, Katie.  But the line is long and you had a lot of apple juice this morning.  So if you pee on Santa, he may put you on the naughty list.”

They take the stall next to yours, just as you’re putting on your elf shoes. 

“Mommy look!  It’s his elf!  They’re peeing too!”

Her mother shushes her.  “Sorry Ms. Elf!  Katie, don’t talk to people while they are using the restroom.  

You roll your eyes, picking up your bag and exiting the stall.  As you wash your hands in the sink, the child runs out of the stall to hug your leg.  You look down to see the desperate eyes of the 7 year old.

“Can you tell Santa how good I’ve been?  And that I want a bunch of squishmallows?”

Her mother pulls her off of you.  “I’m sorry again!  Remember boundaries, Katie?”

Katie pokes a lip out as she is led out the bathroom.  “But I get to sit on Santa’s lap, why can’t I hug the elf?”

You rinse off your hands, ignoring the child completely as you put your jolly green hat on.

“Did they wash their fuckin hands?”

--

In the mall, you stand by Santa watching the clock as the minutes tick by before showtime is at eleven.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!  Santa can’t wait to meet you all!”  he exclaims heartily.

You paste a smile on your face as best you can, waving at the children.

“You don’t like this much, do you?”  

You look over and see Santa looking at you.

You shrug, feeling annoyed.  “It’s paying.”

Santa chortles.  “That’s not what I mean.  I mean your holiday spirit isn’t really into this, right?”

You look back at him with an attitude.  “Listen, I don’t usually talk to the Santas, so we are off to a bad start.  Second, how I FEEL isn’t your business.  Just smile for the kids so we can get the hell off.”

Santa chortles again, seemingly unbothered by your bluntness.  “I understand the holidays aren’t for everyone, especially working with children.”

You look him over, confused by his words.  “I still don’t get why you’re talking to me.”

“Oh it passes the time.”

You cross your arms in exasperation.  “Well I hope you aren’t the Santa all week.  Hearing the children is enough, I don’t need this too.”

“Oh I won’t be here long.  It’s time!”

The clock strikes as it turns eleven o’clock.  You open the velvet rope as the first child runs in on Santa.  He picks him up, letting out a jolly huff and puff and asks the usual questions and getting the usual answers while you take pictures of the joy and fear of every child who visits him.  This goes on for four hours until it is time to call it a day.

Santa stretches his legs as you pack up some equipment.

“Say, you did a good job today!  Would you like a treat from Santa too?”

You shake your head.  “I don’t like candy canes.”

Santa waves his hands.  “No, I am fresh out of them anyway.  Here, I think this might be what you would like.”  

He pulls out an M’Baku Funko Pop from behind his back, min condition in the box.  You take it from him with a scoff.

“How’d you know he’s my favorite character?”  you ask suspiciously, looking over the figure.

Santa chuckles while holding his belly.  “Because Santa knows many things!  No matter how old, we are all children at heart and we all need someone to love in our lives.”

You put the box under your arm as you pick up your bag.  “Ohhh kay.  Dating advice from a mall Santa.  Never thought things would get lower.” 

You wave goodbye to him as he shouts Merry Christmas after you.  When you get home, you kick off your shoes and fly for your bed as soon as possible.  Rubbing the soft fabric of your sheets calms you as your body melts into the mattress.  Before you get too comfortable though, you reach your bag on the floor and dig out the M’Baku figure again.  Flipping it on the back, you notice a message that you swear wasn’t there before.  

Wish for this and never will you miss

A holiday cheer from the one you hold dear

You snort out loud, flipping the toy to face you again.  “I wish you were real.  Big ass M’Baku himself coming in here to claim me as his Queen and make a village together.”  You laugh to yourself, tossing the box haphazardly on top of the bag again before turning over for a nap.

---

As you begin to stir awake, your eyes drift open but your vision is blurry,  A few blinks and you realize that a figure is knelt beside you.

“AGH!”  your scream makes the stranger scream as you fall backwards off the bed in shock.

“Don’t hurt yourself!  Are you ok, my Queen?”

A man stumbles before you in a grass skirt and bulky armor to take your hand.  Sitting up and wide eyed, you get a full visual of the man who invoked your terror.  

“M-M’Baku?”  you ask quietly.  

He nods.  “Your love, yes.  I didn't mean to startle you, but I maintained watch as you slept.  We are in a strange land.”

He gets up to look out of a window as you look over at the now empty box lying on your bag. You pick it up and flip it around but the saying on the back is not there anymore. 

“How do you know me?”  you ask.

M’Baku looks back at you curiously.  “I am your husband, don’t be playful right now.  I’m trying to understand why we are here instead of Wakanda.”

You get up and go over to M’Baku, pushing your finger into his arm to check for realness.  He looks down at you and smiles, taking your hand in his.

“Are you feeling more playful then I assumed, my love?”

You take your hand back, growing hot in the face.  “I don’t know.  I…”  You think for a moment about the situation you are in and weigh out the pros and cons.  Pro: a big strong handsome man is in your bedroom giving you eyes that signal he’s ready to scoop you up and lick you clean.  Cons:  you don’t know this man for sure and you don’t know for sure if you are planning to fuck a toy that came to life that morning. 

M’Baku comes close to you, cupping the side of your face, appearing concerned.  “If something is troubling you, speak.  I can’t bear my wife looking apprehensive.”

You look at him, feeling your body make a choice before you can verbalize it.  You take his hand and lead him toward the bed.

#m'baku x reader #shakafic #ficmas

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #21 “You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out”

[Chris Evans x Reader]

Word Count: 961

Laying across his chest, you pet the side of his stomach as you watch the snow fall outside the bedroom.  Wide glass window line the room to get a perfect view of the outdoors being coated and accented in white, creating a Lifetime movie’s dream scene.

Chris takes a deep breath.  “We should probably get out of bed soon.”

“Why?” you ask.

He kisses the top of your head, squeezing your arm in a side hug.  “Because at some point we have to eat.”

“I don’t have to,” you say, snuggling closer to him and wrapping a leg over his.

He chuckles, rubbing your back up and down.  “For the sake of our energy, we gotta get fuel.”

You look up at him and stick your lip out.  “You just want to leave me don’t you.”

“No!”  he exclaims.  “I don’t want to leave either of you.”

He takes his foot to pet Dodger at the end of the bed, who stares at the two of you like an abandoned dog.  

“He needs to get some food too.  Think of the dog!”  Chris says, emphatically pointing toward his beloved best friend.

You sit up, flipping the covers off, calling Dodger to you. He walks up the bed to lay on your lap as you run your fingers over his fur.  

“You just wanna stay in bed too, right?  It’s too cold for anything else.”  You speak to Dodger in baby talk as he soaks up your affections. 

“Don’t try and corrupt him.  He is very active and needs some lunch.”

You throw your hands up.  “Fine!  Allow me.”  

You pad over to the door and signal for Dodger to follow.  “You stay right there.  I’ll be back.”

Chris puts a hand behind his head, becoming entranced by the snow again as he waits for your return.  When the bedroom door closes again, he trunes to see you hopping on the bed once again.  

You kiss his lips generously, letting no part of our mouth not meet his.  He smiles against your mouth as you attack him with passion.

“Dodger still eating?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you mouth as you rest your hand against the tattooed eagle on his chest.  “I asked him to give us some privacy too.”

“Oh? For what?”

You bring your face down to his chest, kissing his pec as your other hand reaches into his underwear.  “For breakfast.”

Chris licks his lips, chuckling deeply as you tease him under his shorts.  “Please don’t make a sausage joke.”

You tut at him with displeasure.  “Am I a child, Chris?  No!  Give me some credit!” 

He pats the top of your head gently.  “I’m sorry babe.  I was out of line.”

You take his semi-hard penis out and glance it over as you kneel.  “I could get a lot of good protein out of this though.”

Chris groans.  “Ok, haha.”

Feeling him grow under your touch, you take his dick and smack it against your face a few times.  

“I could knock myself out with this thing!”

Chris looks up at the ceiling in exasperation.  “Can you not act like this is the first time you’re seeing my dick?”

You kiss his swollen tip a couple times.  “I should treat this like it’s mine then?”

“Absolutely,” Chris says, making himself extra comfortable.

You take his tip in again, suckling on it as you grip his shaft firmly.  Your excitement raises every time you hear him breathe deeper, and exhale louder.  

Tasting along his shaft, you run the length of him, gripping his thigh to show off your control of him with no hands.  

“Oh, you’re just showing off now,”  Chris moans as his abs become more pronounced to hold himself back.  

Your work is far from over once you have swallowed him whole, opening your throat to challenge yourself as he pushes into you.  He holds the back of your head to keep you where he wants you.  

“That’s good, just like that...fuck!” he shouts, sitting up on his elbows as your neck sets into a new gear.  Your mouth waters all over him as you suck him dry of his manhood.  Chris’ toes curling under pressure, he fires off a warning.

“Babe...I’m close, hang on.”

But you don’t pay him any mind as you make all vacuums everywhere green with envy.  Pine-Sol didn’t have more power than there is in your throat.  You want him to beg and walk away with a cramp for all the work you put down on him.

You let him loose, jerking him as you come up for air when all of a sudden-

“SHIT!”  You hold your eye, sitting up as it burns.  Chris tries to explain through his ejaculation process.

“Fuck!  I said wait!  Oh, I’m sorry, shit!”  He moans uncontrollably as he finishes, checking on you as quickly as he can, taking a sheet to wipe your face.

“You didn’t warn me good enough!”  you shout, making Dodger bark outside the bedroom door.

“I tried...You were going nuts down there!”  Chris inspects your eye as best he can.  “That is red, girl.  We need to wash that out.”

You bat him away, walking to the bathroom.  “I’ll do it.  I have to shower anyway.  Damn!”

You look in the mirror and your eye is indeed red.  You rinse your mouth out and start a shower.  Chris pops into the bathroom again.

“I said I’m fine.�� This is just so embarrassing,” you explain.

Chris takes your face in his hands, kissing your forehead and looking you in your good eye.  

“I hope you know I love you anyway.  Remember how I was almost crying in there?  You embarrassed me!  Where did that come from?”

“Hey, a girl’s gotta eat.”

#shakafic #ficmas #chris evans x reader #a la insecure