#yall better stay on your toes

[shotmrmiller]

Submitting to his dominance— part III

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: dubious-con???, light mentions of violence, tied up for a moment, biting, thigh riding, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie, this is just vulgar idk what to say.

WC: 3k

A/N: this is it. i didn't plan on using the small drabble of jealousy for this but it worked better for me in the end. this is totally self-indulgent gg yall

You’re on a call with a friend, excitedly discussing your upcoming date with Gaz. Telling her how the both of you are still getting to know each other, just dipping your toes in the water— but the chemistry you both felt was natural, and your friend was screaming on the other end of the line, excited for you.

Approaching your front door, you’re giggling at something they said when you turn your doorknob and push. It opens.  Unlocked. You never leave your flat unlocked. After a moment, you let your friend know you’ll call her later and pivot, dialing the police. Just as you’re about to leave, a recognizable voice comes from the other side of the door.

“Get inside, pet.” 

Ghost. 

Resolutely shaking your head, you firmly say, “No. I blocked you for a reason. Stay here as long as you like, I’m going to Johnny’s.”

In a split second, you find yourself yanked back by a forceful hand clutching onto your hair, causing a jolt of pain as a few strands give way. The grip on your hair intensifies, and you're forcefully dragged into your apartment, confined within its walls with a slam of the door. 

“Are you fucking—”, Ghost cuts you off with a rough palm over your mouth. Anger surges through your veins, nostrils flaring,  and you lift your arm to strike him when he uses the hand covering your mouth to slam your head against the wall— not too hard but with just enough strength to remind you of the position you’re in. Who you’re in here with.

“Hands to yourself, girl. You’d be pickin’ a fight you couldn’t even dream of winnin’.”

Maybe he had a suspicion that you’d test him again because he swiftly rotated you and fastened your wrists with zip ties behind you— before turning you around once again to face him.

How fucking dare he. Oh, if looks could kill. 

You give him the most hateful scowl you can muster, and he looks at you for just a second, almost mockingly. He lifts the mask to uncover his mouth and then tries to press his lips to your neck, but that’s not about to happen. You move your head and shoulder to prevent him from getting anywhere near,  when he moves his hand to fist your hair and yanks. You don’t know what made your eyes tear up. If it’s the stinging ache of your scalp or the twinge in your neck from how hard he pulled. It was silly of you to think he wouldn’t just take what he wants— he’s done it so far.

Ghost has the nerve to chuckle as if he didn’t almost break your neck.

“Don’t be dramatic, pet. If I wanted y’dead, you wouldn’t have even seen me coming.” 

Not realizing you spoke aloud, you’re about to purposefully speak your mind when his lips latch onto the delicate skin of your neck, sucking hard, to the point of pain. And he does it again, on the other side. The sting of his hickeys causes you to whimper, and you assume he likes the noise that involuntarily slips out of you because he grinds his clothed erection against your core while sucking a mark on the fluttering vein in your neck. 

Ghost pulls back, fist still in your hair, and rubs his thumb across the throbbing bruises as if admiring his work. “Hey,” and moves his shirt to reveal his neck— showing you a half dozen blotchy marks that his other conquests put there, and with mirth says, “We match.” 

You start thrashing at that, as best you can while being restrained, and the intense fury of why you even blocked him in the first place comes back to the forefront of your mind. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” you scream. You raise your leg to kick him when he readily grabs it, effortlessly lifting you off the floor. He lets your one leg hang over the arm he has sturdily planted on the wall before grabbing the other to do the same— and pins you flat with his hips, bulge pressed firmly against your cunt. Your arms ache with pain as they are ruthlessly pinned behind you against the wall, pulling a hiss of agony from you.

“Now, now,” he taunts, “There’s no need to get pissy over me sleeping with someone else. Y’asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend, lovie.” 

“Yeah,” you grit out, “You’ve made that clear enough, with your little flings Johnny told me about.” 

“Aw, and tha’s got your knickers in a twist, does it?” he grinds his hips, “Would you believe me if I said tha’ you’re the prettiest?”

You snort. “Piss off— and actually piss the fuck off. You can go get your dick wet with someone else.” 

“Why would I wanna do that when I got y’here spread open so willingly f’me?” and grinds his hips again. 

You were about to retort about the ‘willingly’ being questionable when he latches onto your skin again but this time, he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. Your nails dig into your palms, eyes welling with tears at the sharp pain of the bite. 

“Ah— stop, please stop” and it feels like he bites down even harder before finally relenting. His teeth come off your skin leaving behind a dark, angry purple imprint. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, pet.”

Ghost looks up from the bite to your eyes and notices them glassy with unshed tears— licking off the ones that did spill. He trails soft stubbly kisses from your jawline to the corner of your mouth almost to coax it open. You wish you were a stronger person to resist his allure, but his mystique pulled you into his orbit. His touch ignited the spark in you to a flame, and you cave.

His mouth caresses yours open, your body melting against his. You let out little, breathy moans, and when he sloppily licked into your mouth, you caught his tongue and sucked— pulling the raunchiest, cunt-clenching sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. You let go of his tongue with a pop.

He moves his hands off the wall to dig into your arse and walks to your couch, putting your back to the cushions as he pulls off your pants. With a firm grip on your hips, he pulls you towards him, making you straddle his muscular thigh while his hands wrap around your waist, reaching for your bound wrists.

“I’ma take this off. I wouldn’t try hittin’ me again.” You feel a snap, the tingle of your blood rushing through the mark left by the zip tie, and shrug— in an attempt to ease some of the aches in your shoulders from being forcefully positioned for so long.

You side-eye the military pocket knife he used to cut the ties, wondering when he took it out— where he even hid it. Ghost leans forward to shrug off his leather jacket, pulls off his shirt while keeping his mask over his mouth, and tosses them to the other side of the sofa. You knew he was fit but seeing just how much made you a tad insecure. The separation of the muscle from the round of his shoulders to the bulge of his bicep, with the vein running along the bicep was mouthwatering. Strong vascular forearms, only one of them with a half sleeve. You can see the muscle striation of his full-looking pecs, his abs clear cut, obliques you could count with your fingers. Ridiculously fit, unlike yourself. Soft tummy, thick meaty thighs, and fleshy hips. He brings you out of your musing with a hard slap to your arse.

“Out of your head and back here w’me, eh?” he says while soothing the sting with his calloused hand. “I can feel how warm your cunt is through my jeans. Go on,” and lifts his hand to rub a thumb over your mound, “ride my thigh.”

The feel of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans and his thumb rubbing firm circles on it has your pussy growing wet, leaving a damp spot behind on him. One hand grips you to push you through the motions, and you continue to roll your hips— chasing the friction you need. 

The circles he’s drawing turn slippery as the tension of your impending orgasm intensifies. Your legs start to shake as you stroke yourself on the length of his thigh and the steady roll of your clit under his thumb is about to make you break, your walls fluttering when Ghost pulls away— abruptly leaving you at the ledge, and it stings. 

“Y’didn’t think I was gonna just let you come with how bratty you’ve been?” and you let out an angry whine. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as you do, and he shoves two of his long fingers into it, and curls them over your tongue— and you close your throat to prevent your gag reflex.

“Atta girl, love,” the smirk he gives is so irrationally smug, that you want to bite him. He puts both of his thighs in between your legs to spread you, letting him get a good look at your swollen, dripping cunt.

He pulls his fingers out glossy with your spit to rub them through your folds, then presses one, and then the other. He pushes to half the length of his fingers and curls, pushing directly on the sensitive patch of nerves. Ghost repeatedly presses against it, and the noises you and your cunt start to make are lewd, sloppy. 

Your pleasure starts to rise again, back to where he left you off with every precise drag of his fingers over your patch of nerves, your body feels like it’s radiating heat, your vision starting to go white when again, he leaves you hanging. Right at the fucking edge and you dry sob from how pleasurably painful it is. 

Ghost grabs your neck with a firm, wet grip and pulls your face to his, lips hovering over yours, breath mingling. 

“With me in you or none at all, pet,” and slaps your cheek, leaving behind a sticky residue. 

Quickly divesting himself of his jeans, he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he watches you bounce on your mattress. He’s about to crawl over to you when you put your foot flat against his chest. 

“I’m not fucking you without a condom when you still have the evidence of your promiscuity on you.” 

He grabs that ankle and wraps it around him, lifting its twin to do the same, then places himself between your thighs— resting some of his body weight on you. 

“I never sleep with anyone without protection. You’d be the first in many years,” and you scoff at him. He grabs your jaw, cheeks squishing under his fingers, demanding eye contact. 

“I’m many things but a liar isn’t one of ‘em. You’ve done so well f’me, been so obedient. You’re the only one I want to feel without any barriers. ” 

This reminds you of how much of a bastard he is. Taking wheat and spinning it into gold, just to get what he wants. 

“And how many times has that line worked for you?” whimpering at the feel of his heavy cock rubbing against your wet cunt. 

“You’re the only one I wanna see my cum drip out of, pet. I swear it,” and he starts to push into you. Even being as drenched as you are, your cunt still struggles to take him. He gives one thrust and it reaches halfway before it stops— almost like it’s stuck. Ghost pulls out, cock slippery and creamy with your juices then pushes in again. It’s like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water— he sinks to the hilt.

It burns. It’s an ache and his length feels too large, too much, but hearing this typically silent behemoth of a man mumbling into your ear has you groaning at his depth. 

“Fuck, baby, fuckin’ hell sweetheart—”, the salacious groan in your ear makes you clench your gummy walls around his invasion. He moves slowly, giving a series of unhurried, languid thrusts. 

“I’m gonna make sure this tight cunt fits me and no one else,” and that has you thinking if he said that because of your upcoming date, but then with a soft slap to your cheek, he shifts— bringing himself to his knees. Ghost grabs the back of yours and pushes them to your ears. You’re bent in half, can barely breathe, and then he gives you a knowing smirk— with just one corner of his mouth lifted as the only warning before he pounds into you. 

Viciously.

Unsparingly.

Every thrust of his has the tip of his head firmly pressing into your cervix with an obscene squelch. The deep pinch you feel against your womb brings tears to your eyes. 

He’s merciless with how hard he fucks you, and you can’t do anything other than take it, thoroughly pinned under his body weight. Ghost then lets go of one leg to cover your mouth with his hand before angling his hips upwards— just a tad and the angle is so sharp he has you screaming. He must’ve known exactly what was gonna happen because he’s completely unfazed by how loud you’re being, just presses down on your mouth even harder.

“Keep taking it, pet, I know you can,” he growls out, but it feels like he’s actually rearranging your guts, so deep inside you can feel him in your throat. His rhythm is unrelenting, and the coil that Ghost has kept tightly wound all this time threatens to snap, and you’re sure it’s going to break you.

He hisses as he feels your cunt quivering around his cock, and he definitely knows what’s about to happen because he then slows his hips and cuts through your pleasure with his selfish demand.

“You tell Gaz that this weekend is cancelled and I’ll fuck you against that wall and let you come,” and you’re babbling out your surrender, jerky nods of your head. You’re okay with losing this battle because you’re winning this war unequivocally. 

Ghost pulls out aggressively, pulls you to the edge of the bed to position your ankles at his shoulder, and lifts— walking to the wall, pinning you. He slaps your arse before sliding back in again. 

“M’good girl has earned her reward, hasn’t she?” and with that, he lets spit dribble from his mouth to land on your clit. 

“Lemme see you touch yourself,” and resumes his thrusts, this time pushing directly into your sweet spot, again and again. You rub circles in rhythm with his thrusting, your body starting to seize. 

“Fuck, tha’s it, love, fuck me,” and he moans when the nails of your unoccupied hand dig into his shoulder. “Jesus, yeah, scratch me. Leave a mark— I wanna see you on me tomorrow,” and he starts to piston into you at a punishing pace, and he in combination with your fingers has you careening into one of the most, if not the most, overwhelming orgasm of your life. 

You tense, and with no control, actually scream out your peak. Wave after wave of blindingly brutal pleasure, nothing but a ringing in your ears and your limbs that violently tremble— relieving the ache that has been in between your thighs for weeks, from Ghost’s ruthless edging. 

The choking vice your cunt has on his cock sends him over, groaning out his climax. He’s grinding so deep in you that it just hurts, then thrusts himself into oversensitivity. 

He backpedals, taking you with him in his arms, and falls back onto your bed with a grunt. You’re rubbing the marks your nails left on his shoulders— just an imprint. Good. Then, you shift yourself upwards, straddling his ribcage to touch the lovebites. 

“You didn’t really think I’d leave a trophy for you to take home, did you?” and his dark eyes unblinkingly stare at you. Gazing right back, you say, “I won’t be a part of your collection.” But you’re not sure if you aren’t already, seeing as how it’s his cum dripping out of you and landing on his stomach. 

“But an agreement is an agreement,” and get up to grab your phone. Sending Gaz a quick text, you then turn the screen towards Ghost. 

Can’t see you this weekend, Gaz. Sorry:(

Oh, the belly laugh Ghost lets out at the response Gaz sent makes your face flush.

We talked about this, doll. Our date is next weekend. 

“Now I,” you get up, leaving Ghost lying on your bed with his spend drying on his belly, “am gonna go shower, and you can let yourself out. I asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend.”

As you saunter to your bathroom, you turn your head to end it with, “Seeing as how I won’t be needing you anymore, delete my number.” 

—

By the time you step out of your bathroom squeaky clean, your apartment is as if you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life. Everything looked in order, bed comforter tucked with hospital corners— empty. Except your phone wasn’t where you left it. You walk over to pick it up and on the screen is a text from Ghost’s number. He unblocked himself and changed the name of his contact to Simon.

If you wanted exclusivity, all you had to do was ask, love. Tell Gaz to fuck off for good, I’ll see you soon.

You quickly run to your bathroom and slam the door closed. Squealing, you dial Gaz’s number. 

“Hello, doll,” his voice is low, as if he was asleep.

“It worked! We did it! We—” and you cut yourself off, “Wait, did I wake you?”

He chuckles and you can hear another deep male voice in the background. 

“OH! Oh. You weren’t sleeping! OK! Sorry! So sorry! I’m hanging up!” and press the end call button. 

To beat the player, you must first learn how to play the game.

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @channelsoph @imasimpl0l @hellshire-harlot @mesyakee @leeeenistop @kerst666 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thychuvaluswife

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley smut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she'll never be wanted, not only by the man she's crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I could blame yall for talking me into it but we know it's all my fault.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The sharp zip cuts through the air. Lloyd hauls the long black bag up and checks his watch. He struts over to you and shoves the heavy luggage at you, letting it go before you can wrap your arms around it. You nearly topple from the weight.

You grunt and hug it tightly, the long duffle isn't exactly a vacation's worth Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts. You can feel the long metal barrels as cases of ammo dig into your arms. You manage to get a hand on the handle and swing it after several tries onto your shoulder.

He's already halfway out the door. You trail after him, nearly stumbling to keep up. He's so tall you often find yourself running after him like a stray dog. So tall and handsome and--

Shut up! That's not what you should be thinking about.

Your phone vibrates and you struggle to pull it out of your pocket. You sigh as Lloyd continues along without notice, whistling casually as he approaches the stairs. Shit.

As he begins down the stairs, you stop at the top, leaning with the pull of the bag. You try to reply to the text as he makes quick progress to the bottom. 

He whistles up at you and snaps his fingers. You pop your head up and amble down the steps, barely catching yourself against the railing as you slip. When you get to the bottom, he's standing at the door, huffing impatiently.

"What's goin' on, kid?"

Kid. That's what he's always called you. Even though you're not that much younger than him. It's never sweetheart or honey like the pretty ones. Just kid.

"Plane's delayed. There's headwinds--"

"Christ's sake," he snarls.

"Sorry, sir, the pilot's trying--"

"Boring," he chops his hand through the air to silence you, "let's go."

He stands by the closed doors. You try not to let his impatience bother you. You can't blame him. He has an important mission. There's no time to be waiting on a cloud cover.

You open the right door and he steps through, tramping down the stone stairs to the mosaic walkway. Once more you're on your toes as you scurry after him. You watch how his jacket stretches between his shoulder blades. His sleeves hug his arm tightly, showing off his hard work and muscle. You shake your head, stop. Ten years. You know better.

You're out of breath as you get the idling car. Jackson, the driver nods but is similarly ignored as he opens the door for Lloyd. You go to the trunk as it pops and you put the gun bag inside.

You get in the other side as Lloyd splays his legs out and unlocks his phone with his thumb. You keep your cell clutched tight and tap it nervously. He doesn't handle roadblocks well, he's the type to demand and get. Something he hired you to make sure of.

"Well, extra time, I guess," he mutters as he swipes across the screen.

The car rolls up the long drive as you check your messages again. Still no updates. You cross one leg over the other as Lloyd's loafer nearly touches your oxford shoe.

"Hmmmm, can't decide on this one," he grumbles and tilts his screen toward you, "what do you think, kid?" He wiggles it at you as you look at the woman on the screen, "tits are nice but the tattoo screams Hep C."

You nearly gasp but just raise your eyebrows instead. He's always looking for a reaction. Your cheeks set alight and you twiddle your fingers around your own phone.

"Well, sir, I… she's pretty."

"Relax, you won't be invited to threesome," he scoffs and leans back, swiping left, "that's what this is for. Variety."

You don't say a word as you bring your hand to the side of your neck, feeling the heat of your skin. It's not just that it's him saying it, it's that gnawing feeling of inadequacy. The mystery of the unknown makes you self-conscious and wary of saying the wrong thing. The same way when you talk to your sister and she tells you about her husband. Well, you don't hear from her much these days.

"I'll send you their info. You can make a few calls before we get back," he snickers, "get everything ready for me."

"Uh, sure, sir, but uh… like I said before, that's not exactly part of my job."

"Don't tell me what your job is," he barks as he blacks his phone, "goddamn, you're always such a tight ass. Usually I'm all for a tight hole but you really know how to squeeze a man by his balls."

"I'm sorry, sir–"

"Another fucking 'sorry, sir' and I'm gonna snap. I can't do eight hours on a flight with you pouting like that."

"Understood, won't happen again," you dip your head down, "sorry, s–"

You clap your hand over your mouth. The words are so habitual they start to fall out before you realise, and yet another urge to say them. Just stop talking. You peek at Lloyd with wide eyes and drop your hand.

"You're a fucking downer, kid," he sits forward, "Jackie, pull the fuck over."

"Yes, sir," the driver replies from the little speaker under the barrier between the front and back seat. "You, get the fuck out."

You're surprised by his sudden flare of anger. There's not much about him that truly shocks you anymore but as irritable as he can be, this is unusual. His agitation has boiled to molten hot in a matter of minutes.

"Sir?"

"You can walk back and start getting shit ready. I mean, we'll see if you can since you can't get the goddamn plane on the ground," he growls as the car pulls onto the gravel wing of the road. "You're getting fucking soft, kid."

"Sir, I didn't–"

"You did. You fucking killed my boner so get out," he shoos you with his finger and unlocks his phone again, "buh bye."

You hesitate. You slowly move to the door and let yourself out. You're buzzing in disbelief. He can be a jerk, you're used to that, but this all seems so abrupt. You can only assume there's something else bothering him.

You shut the door as you stand on the side of the road. You hear Lloyd's deep timbre muffled inside the car before it pulls away. You stare after it, crossing your arms as you sniff and the sun glares along the edge of your vision.

You slowly turn and face the horizon. You're not that far. Maybe twenty minutes. Well, the single silver lining. You can't help your disappointment. You look forward to missions. It's an excuse to be with Lloyd. A reason for him to put up with you.

You set off, trodding along without urgency. There's nothing at the compound for you. It's not like you go on every mission but it's the unexpected change that gets you. More so, his temper. You see it aimed at others more than yourself.

Your phone buzzes again. The plane's landed. That's good news. As you continue your trek, you dial out to Lloyd's phone and put the speaker to your ear. No answer. Several more tries have a similar result, the last call clicking dead right away.

You send a text and it bounces back as undeliverable. You don't get it, your signal is strong. It's a military grade phone. You slide your phone away and try not to let your anxiety get the best of you.

He wouldn't block your number, would he? 

You're not special, that much is clear, but you've stuck around so long that you just can't see it ending over one slip-up. Sure, Lloyd has screamed agents out of the compound, he's even stranded them in hostile grounds, but they weren't there as long as you've been.

You drag your feet as you approach the gate. You let yourself in with the code and ignore the gazes of agents as you cross the yard and go back inside.

All this and for what?

If Lloyd fires you, you've spent ten years pent up in places like this, doing his grunt work. The tail end of your twenties and much of your thirties traded for imagined cues and empty hopes. You accepted long ago that Lloyd would never see you, just the woman he called 'kid', but the thought of losing even that makes you want to cry. You can accept that you're not as good as the models he fucks around with, but you can't accept not being there at all.

You're overreacting. You always do this. It's always the end of the world.

Lloyd will come back and everything will go back to normal. You're the only one who gets his coffee right and knows that he hates mushrooms but loves Salisbury steak. He needs you, just not like you want him to.

❤️‍🩹

Radio silence. You don't hear from him and any message you try to send is unanswered. He's on a mission, he's in blackout mode, yet you can't help but be paranoid.

Without him to order you around, you're not quite sure what to do with yourself. It's sad but that's just who you are. You're not the one doing, you're the one listening to those who do. 

The first day is the worst of it. On the second, you're not as addled and a bit relieved not to be hidden in some safe house waiting for a signal or listening to Lloyd make sick jokes. Still, you'd rather be with him.

The second night, you expect some sort of word from him. Still nothing. 

You lay in bed, restless. You don't dream about him anymore, you don't close your eyes and think about what it'd be like to be beautiful or interesting, you know it will never happen. But you worry about him. That you'll never be rid of.

The third morning, a Saturday, you go down to make your coffee. Other agents mill about as the tech crew speak into their headsets and type furiously. Something’s going on.

You near the doorway and listen in, trying to discern the chaos. There's cams to switch cameras and directions given, coordinates read out and warnings about oncoming targets. It's the usual, the same chatter you listen to over the comms when Lloyd's out in the field. Now you can only hear one side.

As the tempo builds, there's another furor. The chime that signals the censor at the front gate. Rico storms out of comms central as you flatten yourself to the wall and wait to trail him until he's past the stairs.

"What the fuck is going on?" He waves an agent in black close, "who the fuck is here?"

The agent puts his fingers to his earpiece, "we have sights."

"I asked who it was, not if you can make a shot," Rico shoves the man and stomps to the front doors, shoving them open before him. "Tell them to go the fuck away."

An agent runs up the driveway, puffing as he holds his gun securely in front of him. He stops as Rico gets to the bottom of the stairs 

"Sir, sir, it's… it's Valhalla."

"Val-what?" Rico snips.

"Valhalla!" The man repeats louder.

"Shit. Fuck." Rico continues in a rampant flurry of Spanish, "they're early."

"Sir," the agent bows his head as another appears before him.

You frown and watch from the doorway, trying to stay out of sight as you eavesdrop. 

Hm. Valhalla. You know the name, rather well, but only through correspondence. A code name. For a faceless man and his deep pockets. You hadn't heard it recently though. You thought that whole thing fizzled out.

"Fuck, Hansen, take your fucking time," Rico mutters between his Spanish diatribes, "let them in. Full search." You hear him clop back up the stairs before he blusters inside, "I need men. Now!"

He turns and sees you cradling your coffee with a dumb look. He sneers and rolls his eyes, "perfect. You'll do. We need rooms. We have guests."

"What?" You squint. 

"You're a woman, you should know how to make them at home."

"You're not my boss," you grimace and drink your coffee.

"Don't get smart with me just because that idiot keeps sniffing at his heels. Go and do something useful for once," he claps at you.

You don't move. You take orders from one person. Otherwise, you stay out of the way.

"Fuck!" He hollers and twists on his heel again.

He marches into the next room and you slowly near the front doors, still ajar as they gape out at the golden day. You come outside and descend the steps, standing just by the plinthed flower vase at the bottom. You watch the gates roll apart, letting in the convoy lined outside.

There are four cars in total. All ivory and gleaming. They hardly seem like military vehicles.

You don't get it. You pull out your phone and scroll through your emails. The last message you got from Valhalla was months ago and it left you at a stalemate between them and your indomitable boss.

The first car pulls up and stops, the other fanning out behind it. Agents circle, keeping a broad perimeter as they watch with similar intrigue. Rico appears again, muttering to himself as he holsters a gun.

You look back to the grated bumper of the luxury SUV. The engine rolls over as you find yourself holding your breath. This is it, the vaunted Valhalla. You keep your mug close to your chest as the car door opens and your jaw nearly hits the floor.

It's a man more gorgeous than anyone you've ever seen before. Well, maybe not everyone but damn close. His golden hair is braided down his back and a few wavy strands hang loose around his face. His sky blue eyes shine in the sunlight as he smiles, the expression lining his face immaculately. You gulp and force your mouth shut.

There's a brief lull before anyone reacts. Rico is the first to snap into action. He clamours down and offers a hand, "Valhalla, hello, Rico. Hansen is in the field but I will be your host."

"Ah, Rico," Valhalla repeats with a keen lilt, "you'll do for the time being."

His blue eyes scan the facade of the compound. It appears nothing more than a remote and overpriced mansion. The man takes a deep breath as if tasting the air and pauses as his gaze falls upon you. His brows twitch but he does not react otherwise.

He turns back to Rico and claps his back, "well, we traveled far, we require food and sleep and if you can spare it, lots of alcohol."

#lloyd hansen #thor #dark lloyd hansen #dark thor #dark!thor #dark!lloyd hansen #thor x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #mcu #avengers #marvel #au #series #old scars new blood #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

[y3ager]

STORYTIME I (26 F) FUCKED MY SUPERSTAR CLIENT (24 M) AFTER MONTHS OF SEXUAL TENSION!

— ‘i’m a manager for a pretty big music label and my client is the biggest dickhead in the world but i fear i fucked him after one of our usual arguments.. 😵‍💫’

eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, smut, porn not much plot, hate(?)sex, cunnilingus, cowgirl, reader gets called ‘mama’ and ‘boss’, unprotected sex, mild choking, musician!eren, manager!reader. minors do not interact.

my first collab entry MAKE SOME NOISE YALL WTF!!! but no seriously thanks so much to @k9nto for letting me join your event i had a blast writing this! hope you all enjoy! 🤭

YOU’VE ENCOUNTERED SOME annoying people in your life. in kindergarten, a boy taunted you by picking up one your fallen hot pink knocker-balls and refusing to give it back to you. in high school, some chick named tiffany ripped down all of your junior class president posters that you spent weeks designing and printing out on the highest quality paper. your college advisor had been completely useless, you’d still be dragging yourself through your bachelor’s degree if you didn’t stay on your toes and realize the classes you were dropped in were a waste of time. but all of these people, and many more that have slipped your mind, shaped and molded you into the woman you were today. strong, tenacious, independent, a go-getter who never gave up and thus was able to reap her hard work, in the form of three nice crisp degrees and a never pitiful bank account.

but eren yeager, grammy award winning singer, songwriter and musician, with multiple weeks spent at the top of the billboard hot 100 and 200 charts, millions of units sold worldwide, and stadiums packed to the brim, took the fucking cake.

you were warned he’d be difficult. every manager he’s assigned quits before one of them ends up in a body bag. none of them have a single nice thing to say about him, and he finds that hilarious.

for better or for worse, you took the challenge because you’re a sucker for them. nothing in life comes easy, and you figured that the managers before just didn’t come hard enough. maybe eren’s fame and status made them falter, but such a fate wouldn’t befall you.

you dragged him to his magazine shoots, you kept his mouth in line during interviews, you kept his socials clean. he was never a second late to rehearsals and recordings. he was a reflection of you, and if you were perfect goddammit he was going to be too.

until today.

“i’m not putting in another extension, eren. the label is starting to get really irritable. we need to go to the studio now.” you furiously swiping along your ipad, pacing around the singer’s deluxe hotel room. while you’re dressed for the day in clean crisp clothes, sharp stilettos, and jet black lace front expertly melted and laid, eren’s still in the bed. the covers are everywhere, his shirt is next to a couple pillows on the floor, and he’s laying on his back eating a croissant from room service, paying you absolutely no mind. it takes everything in you to not chuck your device at his big head. “i’m serious. get. up.”

“and i said i’m not,” he mocks your assertive tone, voice oozing in sarcasm. “going.” he coughs, obviously faking. “my voice hurts. can’t make those greedy bastards money if my vocal chords ache. they’ll live.”

“you are on a strict deadline this era. if you want to catch award season, this album needs to be finished and dropped in the next month. amidst the press tour, your window of recording time is dwindling fast.” dates in your digital calendar glare at you, red and angry. every time you check something off your to do, ten new things pop up. you feel your jaw clenching, teeth gritting together uncomfortably.

“i’ve won enough awards. i don’t care. i’m not getting up.” eren finally raises up from the bed, narrowed green eyes meeting yours. it’s fire against fire, an unstoppable force that is a manager determined to do her job versus an immovable object, a musician who’s not budging from his spot. “it’s my album. it’s my music. i finish it when the fuck i get ready. that label will burn before they drop me.”

“if you don’t follow contract, they will drop you. they put a lot of money into you-”

“money i made back for those dumbasses-!”

“they are your bosses, without them-”

“they need me way more than i need them-!”

“get,” you toss your ipad over to a small couch, storming over to the bed. you snatch the edge of the covers and yank hard. enough is enough. if he won’t get up, you’ll make him get up. “the fuck out of this bed, eren, now!”

“you need,” the cover is yanked back, tugging you forward along with it. you lurch momentarily before righting yourself upwards, leaning back to give yourself more leverage in this childish tug of war you find yourself in. “to calm the fuck down, ___. i’m not going and that’s fucking it.” eren may be lean, but he’s toned like a MMA fighter, muscles rippling under tan skin when he calls upon them. another tug and you topple onto the california king bed, one expensive heel sliding off your foot and falling across the room.

your heads snaps up from the covers, brow furrowed deep in anger. “stop being so fucking difficult, you moron!” emotions welling, you grab one of his arms, preparing to drag him out of this bed. your to do list is a nagging itch on your brain that by the grace of god you are going to scratch. you’re not about to let this bad-with-authority dickhead best you when all he has to do is record a fucking vocal.

“oh, we’re doing this?” easily, too easily, so easily that you register your back hitting the soft bed before you realized he even grabbed you back. he pins you down easily, slightly calloused hands grip your upper arms firmly, pushing them down. he places his legs other either side of your hips so yours are forced in between them, but doesn’t keep you from writhing to free yourself. “whatever fucking—stop doing that—chip you have on your shoulder, you need to fucking solve it because shit’s not going your way today. i’m not going and that is final.”

the tussle leaves you two of you panting, eyes boring into each other’s. eren’s long chocolate brown hair is disheveled not only from a night’s sleep but from this impromptu wrestle. small beads up sweat trickle down his naked chest. your writhe again, and he presses down against you, a synonymous hiss sliding through both of your mouths.

“i hate you, eren.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, ___. looks like you wanted an excuse to feel up on me.”

“oh, like you wanted an excuse to hump me like a mutt?”

there’s another beat of silence as you two watch each other. eren’s hands tighten their hold just a tad before he presses his hardening length hard against your clothed cunt. against your better judgement, your head tilts back and a small moan fights against your bitten bottom lip.

eren hums lowly, his dick bulging against the constraint of his boxers. “hate me too much to actually fuck me, huh? i’m only worth a dry hump.”

oh how eren frustrates you. how he makes even the simplest things in life painstakingly difficult. how he makes you want to smoke ten packs of cigarettes after a day of dealing with him. but oh, how handsome he looks under the lights at photo shoots. how his deep, smooth voice reverbs in your ears. how his fingers move so deftly on his guitar, as if it’s merely an extension of his body. who wouldn’t fantasize about that late at night, him bending you over and snatching down your pants to fuck the stress out of you, or yourself knocking him down a peg and making him beg to let you cum inside.

“shut-” another roll of his hips makes you gasp. “up..”

“i want you, ___,” eren confesses. his hips don’t falter, his cock becoming hungry for release. “i want that pussy. i wanna fuck that little attitude out of you, can i? i see how you look at me and i stare right back.”

you shiver, hand rushing to undo your dress pants and feel more of eren’s dick against your dampening cunt. his hands work with your perfectly, yanking your pants down. it’s a whirlwind of clothes, your sweater, bra, your other shoe.

eren reaches up to grab your breasts, rolling them in his palms, squeezing the supple flesh, pushing them together. “oh, pretty girl. pretty fuckin’ tits.” leaning down, he kisses down your sternum, stomach, inching closer and closer to your center. he wastes no time grabbing your thighs and licking a nice, long stripe against your drooling cunt and sucking on your clit.

your back immediately arches up and your hands fly to grip eren’s hair, tugging at the locks and pulling him in closer so you can feel everything. “oh my god, eren.” the singer’s not shy at all, audibly sucking at you and reaching up to twist and pinch your pebbled nipples.

with another languid lick eren pulls himself away. he pulls his boxers down on and off, freeing his dick from the constraint. he rubs the thick, weeping tip up and down your slit, staring hungrily at the juices leaking out. the feeling of it makes you shiver in anticipation.

“mmm, mm-mm.” you push yourself up. “let me get ‘n top..” there’s a greedy look in your low eyes as you place your hand on eren’s solid chest and lay him down on the bed.

“take charge here too, huh?” your forwardness makes him chuckle as he watches you straddle his waist. “okay then. ride me.”

you brace yourself on your toes as his hand and yours grasp his shaft, directing it to your pulsing hole. you slide down gingerly onto him, his size quickly stretching you out. “ahh, fuck, eren. fuck…”

“you got it,” he assures you, one hand on your thigh as you sink lower and lower, taking him in inch by inch. he bites his lip at the wet tightness of your walls, squeezing and sucking him in. it makes him throw his head back, a couple of small pants escaping his mouth. “mmhm, fuck that pussy feels so good. take that dick, boss.” his hand raises only to land on your ass check with a sharp slap.

you start out slow at first, letting yourself adjust to the wideness of his dick but that quickly gets old. you’re soon addicted to the feeling of him fitting inside so perfectly. gripping his free hand in yours, you swivel and raise your hips faster and faster, effortlessly, desperate for that feeling of him pounding that oh so sweet spot. your juices slide down his length, the slap slap slap of your ass against his muscled thighs filling the room. “‘s so big, feels so good,” your voice slurs.

eren hisses from his spot under you, eyes trained on where you two connect. mouth slightly agape, he watches your cunt swallow him up and the fluid that leaks out. “yes, mama. keep fucking me just like that. feels.. f-fuckin’ amazin’…” his hands grab your plump ass cheeks, fingers digging in hard as he thrusts his hips up, driving the tip of his cock even deeper inside you and pulling a loud moan from you. “keep goin, mama, ‘m almost there, don’t stop, please..”

his pleading make you clench even tighter around him, and that feeling deep inside your tummy aches for release. you place a hand around his throat to better balance yourself, relishing in his low groan. your thighs quake and tremble, your hips meeting his eager thrust perfectly. “oh, my god; oh my god. i’m— shit!” you throw your head back in ecstasy, cumming hard enough on your client’s dick to leave you numb.

“aw, fuck, boss.” eren thrusts up to push his cum deep inside, holding you against himself to ensure a single drop doesn’t leak. “take it, take it..”

the two of you are left panting hard, bodies sweaty and gleaming with the afterglow of sex. you gingerly pull away, cunt left sore and spent from a round of sex months in the making. eren reaches over to caress your ebon lips, admiring the smooth, wet feeling once you roll onto your back. “no more attitude from you, yeah?”

“no more attitude from the man reduced to calling me ‘mama’ and begging to cum either, i’d assume.” your teasing laughter is cut off by him purposefully sinking three fingers deep inside you. “mmh…”

“mhm, sure.” roles reversed, eren climbs on top of you and stares down with green eyes aflame with lust through his tousled brown hair. “now i want to see what i can make you call me.”

#eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x black reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x black reader #🏙.aotmodern #❤️‍🔥.aotsmut #kishibyesredditcollab

[bahrtofane]

promises under the stars - jude pov

Jude never meant to replace you. But that's how it ended up isn't it. There's no one to blame but himself, no one behind each and every decision that now has him standing at the end of an aisle, waiting for his bride. A bride that isn't you. 

highly highly recommend reading this fic first. or else it kinda doesnt make a whole lot of sense on its own. then come back here. this is kinda like a part 2? kinda

shout out to this anon for this idea ! hope you like it

word count - 2.1K+

watch it - well angst, yet again. pregnancy talks the works. sorry if i used ur name for his wife xoxo. enjooyyy

p.s. - shout out to @anadiasmount for the inspo to create the image at the end ! go read all her stuff yall so good

—————-

He thinks the moment it all comes crumbling down is when he gets word of you getting mobbed. After you've just been to Madrid with him. And he can't do anything about it but send security and hope it doesn't get out of hand. 

He expects you to give up right then and there, curse him and wish for him to have nothing to do with your life again. But you don't. You can never bring yourself to blame him. To hate him.

Then comes your whole family suing him for something completely out of his control. Fresh after your father has threatened him, this is just what they need to come after him legally. 

It's okay because they don't win. Of course they don't. How stupid do you have to be to try and sue for going on vacation for someone you love. He wants to call you every step of the way. But his lawyer warns against it. So he doesn't. And you’re left in the dark.

Do you even know that they've tried to sue?

He can guess what you're thinking. He knows you too well. You think this is him taking an exit from his life. He doesn't want it to be this way. Maybe its for the best after all he finds himself thinking. Back to the thoughts of letting you go for your good as much as his. 

But like most things in life, things get muddy. 

He spends his time in a whirlwind of emotions, all leading back to you. He can not go more than an hour without you in his mind. 

Even if his texting habits dont show it, he wants to talk to you every second of every day. Do you remember when he would call you to complain about the mundane. When he stubbed his toe, or drank out of his mind, pressing his nose against the screen trying to feel you against him. 

Things have changed. He’s no longer the same youthful Jude with a penchant for recklessness. Taking day trips to see you, skirting around paparazzi and your families just to have a moment together.

He misses you, but he’s scared to reach out again. So he remains silent and an onlooker to your life. 

Funny isn't it. World class player with more money than he knows what to do with is scared to text you in fear of what your families will say or do. 

And yet, he can’t stay away for long can he. His resolve breaks on your birthday. Months and years have gone by. Legal cases are drawn out go figure. And he's been so busy with games every few days and events he can never say no too. When he gets home his bones ache, only finding the strength to clean himself up and go to bed. 

When he calls you he realizes maybe it's too late. That waiting for things to blow over have left a gap in your time together. He knows nothing but memories. Your life eludes him. He tries to go back truly, but seeing your story while you're out with friends, smiling- actually smiling. He thinks he better not intrude. 

His mother isn't helping one bit. She's come to the conclusion that the only way to move on and get your family off his back for good is to just move on. Find a “nice sensible girl” she says, smiling.  

Jude doesn't want to. It makes him sick. Kicking and screaming the whole way about it. It’s not a bad idea in theory. Pretend to date someone. Your family gets off his back his family of yours boom you can be happy together again. 

So he can learn who you are again. Find a way into your life. Do you still tilt your head when you're confused? He needs to get back to you. He can't let someone like you leave. He doesn’t just love you, he’s fascinated with the person you’ve grown into. 

The thought of you with anyone else makes him sick. He still loves you, and he makes himself believe that the same is true. 

If only right.

He meets Kaylie in the dead of winter. At a sponsorship event that he completely forgets about and shows up an hour late to. He looks around trying to find his agent but before he can even say his usual rounds of hellos he spots his mother standing with a blonde who clutches her necklace to her chest while she laughs.

This is the start of his own nightmare.

He comes back around when he knows he has to. After taking his sweet time talking to everyone. He tries to look for help to get out of the encounter but it's already too late. His mother is flagging him down. So he walks over, already sweating. 

His mother all but pushes them together. 

“What a couple you two are.” she beams, hands clasped together. 

He gives a tight lipped smile and tries to wiggle his way out the awkward slew of introductions Kaylie gives of herself. But his mother gives him a look, grabbing into his arm and making stand and listen. 

There's a look in his mothers eye, he knows what it means. This is the woman that's supposed to replace you. He feels sick. 

——-

Along the way he thinks that maybe this is what's best for him. For you. 

His family all love Kaylie. And she's sweet enough.

Nothing like you, dragging him into different clubs while you linked arms to get ice cream at the same time.

He finds it hard to keep up with her. Her life is fast paced, more so than his. Every time he calls she's in a different country it seems, catching flights and going to fancy resorts.

You never minded a quiet night in. Its what you loved, being able to exist with him. 

Most of all she doesnt know him. She knows Jude Bellingham. The player, the figure, the celebrity. She doesn't know that he has a bad habit of touching his ears when he's nervous, how his eyes go wide at praise and teasing. How without a hundred reminders and alarms he truly would be late for everything. You always helped getting him to things on time.

When you were both awkward pre teens struggling to make sense of the world, you’d stop by his house to make sure he wouldn’t miss the bus. Sitting next to him on the beaten leather seats, and spitting facts you learned the day before. 

He always listened. He still would today. 

He doesn't think Kaylie’s noticed anything about him. She spends most of their time together taking pictures and flaunting him around. He pretends it doesn't bother him. Is the peace even worth it at this point?

She doesn't know how much he loves making little daisy chains, how much he loved putting them in your hair when you were kids. You’d throw a fit, but he never missed the look in your eyes when his fingers would swoop down to settle them gently. 

Kaylie is beautiful. But she's not beautiful like you. She may have an expensive taste for clothes that allows her to put together a stunning outfit for any occasion, cleavage on display while she pouts her lips and bats her eyelashes for a kiss. Kisses he never gives her. He can't. Not when he knows you wait for him. 

Sure she's great by the average man's standards. But she's not lovely like you. You could be in a trash bag and he'd still think you're the most gorgeous person on the planet. 

He thinks this whole Kaylie thing will blow over, that he'll be able to get back to you. 

And he tells her this. 

He goes through the motions, just to shut everyone up. 

Sitting her down when his mother isn’t around, “I don't love you. I will never be okay. I'm only here to get my mom off my back.”

And she laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “Okay Judey whatever you say,” bracelets clanking together.

The name makes him want to hurl. “Get out of my house.”

Kaylie has got it in her head that she's here to stay. They've gotten into screaming matches because she's gotten her hands on the spare key and spends her days lounging in his house while he's away. They're not even officially dating by any means. 

And he keeps finding her in his bed, in nothing but one of his shirts. Giggling and acting coy. He's losing his patience and losing it fast. 

“Why did you give her the key.” Jude storms into his mothers house. 

She's making tea, swirling a spoon in her mug,”she's your woman isn't she. She needs one.”

“No. She's not my woman and you know that. Everyone that.”

She set the spoon down in the sink, going over to where Jude stands.

“Jude. you need to focus on what's good for you. And she wasn't good. You should be lucky that they didn't win the case. I went and told them about Kaylie and how wonderful she is. Be thankful. “

He's losing his mind. He needs to talk to you. 

He gets the chance when he's back in his hometown. And he sees you. He doesn’t think he could ever miss you, not even in a crowd. A rush of people stop him from running right to you. So instead he texts you. For the first time in ages. 

Was nice seeing you.

He hopes you can read between the lines, that you still know him well enough to understand what he really means. 

I still see you. 

For Jude is a coward. 

——

You dont reply. He forces himself to go back to what hes been forced to know.

Kaylie is all over him, hands roaming his body. There are days when he gives in. Sharing a bed with her as a cruel demented way to find some sort of release from everything that goes on around him.  The look on her face after its all set and done makes him genuinely want to punch something. A look of arrogance, like she's won something. 

And to top it all off he's been called up for England. His life gets even busier, if possible. Trying to keep up with it all proves to be grueling.

But light comes in the form of you. In the form of a single text.

Watched you play tonight. I'm proud of you.

You're proud of him? You watched him? 

The words bring him to near sobs, the light of his phone illuminating his hotel room while hes getting changed into his pjs. It's completely dark, his personal preference. And hes so happy he would fly the damn plane himself to see you. 

Before he can even think of a reply Kaylie tells him she's pregnant. Barging into his room with a little white box in hand. He thinks is some sort of congratulations for the game. Tacky card, maybe a watch. 

When he opens it, his world comes to a halt. Its a single pregnancy test.

He wants to cry. He's too young to be having kids let alone with her. It makes no sense to him. He always used protection the handful of times they did sleep together. Each time he'd only cry in the shower trying to scrub off her smell and the feeling of her touch off of him. She's only a distraction he tells himself. Too late for those words now.

It feels so wrong, so so wrong. He was supposed to be waiting for you and here he is sleeping with another woman. Who's now pregnant. He wants to vomit. 

He's in too deep now. And he can't be a deadbeat dad. 

Thoughts of you get pushed back to his mind while he scrambles to deal with the consequences of his own actions. 

When they get back to Madrid, his mother doesnt let him off easy. Screaming at him till he thinks he's popped an eardrum. And yet there's a gleam in her eyes like she's happy it all worked out this way. Doting on Kaylie and rubbing her belly (that's not even close to showing yet), and calling herself grandma already. 

The next step is obvious. He has to marry her and make it work.

So he does. An impromptu wedding that happens so fast he doesn't even hear the congratulations from everyone. He doesn't know how to break it to you so instead he posts on instagram and tries to figure out what his life has become. 

Jude is nearing 25. He has a kid on the way. He's married. He hates his wife. He hate himself.  Can you ever forgive him?

#jude x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude fluff #jude bellingham #jude x you #jude x y/n #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham angst #bahr footy #YAY #i acc got this out in a semi reasonable time frame go figure

[amsgrey]

Domestication

Kia Ora! It's been forever since I posted anything and it feels like forever since I've had the motivation to sit and right, but this came to me all of a sudden and I wrote it in like two hours so it might suck (not that I care) but no more writer's block!! Ka Pai!!!

synopsis: A Typical night with the Bastard of the Barrel. Or, the Bastard of the Barrel behind his locked door.

warnings: major fluff yall, not proofread yet because we all know I suck at that, I can't think of anything else oops

Kaz was almost always reading in his spare time, from ledgers to novels to the latest Ketterdam newspapers on stocks or whatever else the press thought worthy of ink. Every night when you climbed the stairs to his room, you would find him busy reading through one thing or another.

Tonight was no different. When you finally got off your shift in the Crow club, you found Kaz sitting on his bed with a book in hand. You let out a sigh, toeing off your worn boots and walking to the basin to wash your hands and face.

"How's the club?" Kaz asked, not taking his eyes from the page.

You splashed water in your face, "Plenty of Pigeons.”

You dried your face and joined Kaz on his bed, leaning against the headboard, mirroring his own pose.

"How was your day scheming?"

Kaz turned to look at you, entirely unamused by your cheeky smirk.

"It was fine," He replied, slowly.

The two of you sat silently, enjoying the quietness for a while. For the last few weeks, you had been staying in Kaz's room more and more. You had jokingly told him it was because his bed was bigger and more comfortable, but you both knew it was because you enjoyed waking up beside one another.

You noticed Kaz must have cleaned while you were away, tidying off his desk and drawers. Kaz was a stress cleaner, you had learnt. He liked this space to be tidy, everything in its rightful place. You learned rather quickly to keep things where they were meant to be.

"I cleared a drawer," Kaz said suddenly, you turned to look at him with a frown.

"Okay?"

Kaz put his book down on the table beside him, "For you."

It took a moment for his words to register, Kaz watched as your eyes lit up and a grin spread across your face.

"For me?"

He nodded once.

You leaned forward, gently placing your hand in his, "Have I finally succeeded in domesticating the Bastard of the barrel?"

Kaz made a big show of rolling his eyes, "It's one drawer."

You shrugged, cheekily replying, "One more than I had yesterday."

Kaz had been a lot better with touch lately, in the safety of his room, where no one other than you entered. It took months, years, to get to this point. With your hand in his, mindlessly rubbed circles with his thumb, tracing a pattern only he knew.

"What are you reading?"

Kaz had yet to put his book down, holding his page with a finger wedged in the pages. He opened to where he was, displaying the tiny cramped print for you to see.

"A book about stocks," He said.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

You giggled, "Sounds... boring."

Kaz gave you an annoyed side glance and went back to reading. Admitting defeat, you unthreaded your fingers from his and slipped off the bed. You padded over to Kaz's chest of drawers, well aware that he was watching you in between the words on the page. You pulled open the draw, seeing that Kaz had cleared you a space. A smile broke across your face again, pleased at the sight in front of you. Kaz's drawers were heavy and sometimes finicky, much like all the furniture in the Slat. You lifted the draw a little and slid it back into place, making sure it was shut tight like Kaz had it before.

Instead of returning to Kaz, you opened the next drawer down. Sliding it open as carefully as possible, the drawer revealed pristinely folded shirts and tunics. You ran your fingers over the fabric, almost all of Kaz's shirts were soft and clean, he took such care of his clothes and appearance. It was one of the reasons you loved him, his attention to detail and his immense care for the small details. You found the shirt you were after, one that he never wore but kept folded neatly in his drawer for you.

You unbuttoned your own shirt, it smelt of the Crow Club. A strange redolence of beer, jurda and the distinct smell of the wooden tables after years of use. You lay your dirty shirt over the back of Kaz's desk chair, making note to add it to your own washing in the morning. You pulled on Kaz's shirt, immediately greeted by his scent that was woven through the threads. Kaz shirt felt like pure silk after spending the day in your scratchy blouse, the fabric soothing away any irritation left on your skin.

You looked over your shoulder at Kaz for a moment, spying him nose-deep in his book again. You both knew he wasn't actually reading.

You rid yourself of your belt next, one that you had pinched from Nina months ago. You undid the buckle and carefully laid it over the chair, trying to keep your belongings in one space. You did the same with your skirt and tights, leaving you in almost ready to slip into bed.

You rounded back around the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping underneath. This was your nightly routine now, you slipping under the covers before Kaz, promising to stay awake with him and almost always falling asleep anyway. Kaz loved it, you knew. He would pretend to be exasperated, watching you yawn and fade slowly, but after you fell asleep he would put his book away and watch you rest peacefully.

Curled up under the covers, you watched him read. Watching his eyes scan the page and his lips ghost the words as he read. Sometimes, when he got invested, he would make comments to himself out loud. Oftentimes, "Saints Sake," or "Fool," depending on who or what he was reading about. If you were lucky, Kaz would read quietly and the furrow in his brow would ease, smoothed away as he relented to his book. Those were your favourite moments. Watching the Bastard of the Barrel vanish and Kaz Reitveld appear again. Each time, you cherished them like it was the last.

You shifted again, pulling the blanket over your shoulder to keep your warmth trapped. Kaz's eyes shifted over to you, a silent question within them.

"Read to me?" You whispered.

Kaz smiled, a gentle, loving smile that sent butterflies to your stomach and tingles down your spine.

"Of course."

Kaz took one hand from the book, finding your own under the cover.

You didn't care about how boring the current stock market was or whatever it was Kaz was reading, but you loved hearing Kaz read to you. The sound of his voice, calm and patient after a dangerous and tumultuous day. The sound of his fingers drumming on the hardcover, a steady beat. When he turned the page, he would hang on to the last word of the page, so as to not forget what it was.

You loved every part of these nights with every part of your soul.

As you started to relax more, your mind sinking into sleep, you pulled his hand to your chest, pressing your lips to his knuckles and whispering, "I love you, Rietveld."

Kaz placed his book away, blowing out the lantern and joining you under the covers.

"I love you too," He whispered, his lips pressed to your hairline.

#shadow and bone #six of crows #jesper fahey #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #nina zenik #kaz brekker #kaz and jesper #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows jesper #kaz rietveld #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows nina #six of crows wylan #shadow and bone s2 x reader #shadow and bone s2 #shadow and bone netflix #sab #grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone

[mistyyyy]

How about a tall black reader who's father is a na'vi and mother is human causing her to have shading of blue on her arms and feet ( not t like vitiligo) and she has the same nerves sistem of na'vi and is taller than the avatar boys and is a super dom

Thinking about you

Oooh

I have two versions of this, I couldn't decide what to do but I think I made the right choice. The first one was peepee poopoo. sorry for not updating on this page for mooooonths but yall know how I do lol. It’s kinda meeehhhh, I need to ease my way back into smut lol

small blurb.

jake sully X black hybrid Navi reader

⚠️content:size kink, slightly perve jake, sub jake sully, jake m-wording (Tumblr is being very strict abt smut) abt you, HEAVY CHOKING KINK (creamin), embarrassed jake lol, small text

Pandoras sex symbol.

Or at least that's what Jake Sully calls you in his head. You were perfect, everything about you was perfect. The way your brown skin faded into the dark forest blue, the stripes in your body covering your strong limbs from head to toe. You were so fascinating. In a way, you reminded him of Earth, the good parts of it at least. From your human features to the way you wore your camo lioncloth. But what got him the most was your height. You were taller than most, maybe the tallest out of the clan, standing at a confident 9ft with the prettiest tight curly hair that mostly stayed in braids, wooden beads always sporting them. Your eyes were a little smaller than the regular Navi, but they were still that pretty amber he grew to love.

And that voice. Good lord above. He couldnt even count on his 10 didgets how many times he had goosebumps from it. It was deeper than the average womens, and he loved it. Especially when you talked in his ear after you pushed him into the floor by his neck. That with the combination of your strong thighs straddling him between your body. "come on sully, do better." it was a gentle scold, your accent causing his sweaty body to spasm under your heavy body, this movement making you drive him more into the dirt, hot bodies pressing into each other. "you're killing me right now.." he grunts, his hips pulling back into the dirt in hopes to not meet yours. "not yet at least." You pulled back, handing coming back from his neck with a cocky grin. You always won these competitions. Being born and raised here, trained by the RDA soldiers and the local navi before they got sent away. You were born to overpower him, even if he's been on the planet for 15 years.

He could never win against you, not that he wanted to, always ending up below you was his favorite part of the day. Every time the two of you would split up to go home, he didn't waste time pulling his matted braids up in a ponytail and stripping from his straining cloth. Dropping to his knees on his bouncy mat bed to grab the base of his thick cock. Impatient movements, he brought his hand back up to spit in his hand and back down to gently fist his tip. Frantic pumps going up and down his length with a drawn-out groan, head falling back as his free hand ran over the burning flesh of his abs, thick pecs until it found its way up the blue collums of his neck, holding it tight, giving him the light headed feeling you gave him a few times a week.

"fuck..aah shit" he cursed lazily in his native langueage, eyes fighting to stay open as his wet hand grips and twists the dripping head of his dick. Your hand around his thoat, tight even if it was a playful fight, you were so rough with him, always saying he could handle it. Fuck ,I can handle it. He squeezes his throat tighter, the pressure causing him to bite his lip, muffling his whimper as his warm seed squirts onto his fist, dripping down his fingers until it reached his tensed thighs.

Slowly grinding into his hand, letting his high settle, his eyes flutter open and looked down at the mess he's made once he came to a stop. Oh god, she'd kill me.

_______

Very not edited

#blackreader #femreader #top!reader #domgirl #sub avatar #sub!character #sub jake sully #sub!jakesully #fanfic #smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully smut #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #dom reader #dom!reader

[st6rrrs]

YOUR BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - RAFE CAMERON X FEMALE READER

SUMMARY: for the longest you had an crush on rafe cameron aka Sarah's brother but you couldn't date your best friends brother and besides he didn't notice you anyway... well until one night

WARNINGS: 18+, age gap, smut, non con/dub con?, dark! rafe, swearing, choking, hair pulling, dom!rafe, virgin reader, lost of virginity, rough sex, fingering, unexperienced reader, lmk if i’m missing anything

A/N: rafe is 21 reader is 16 btww!!!

also this is short

Sarah had invited you over so you guys could hang out and watch movies. Sarah's dad, stepmom, and little sister had to go to the Bahamas for her dads work for the weekend. Sarah and rafe didn't have to go so they stayed.

rafe has never been nice to you like ever. he always calls you names like bitch, slut, virgin mary, whore, innocent slut, etc. so you can say he isn't very fond of me.

"so what are we gonna watch?" Sarah ask "maybe comedy?"

"nah I like horror better"

"but im in an mood to laugh" Sarah explained

"okay then what about a horror comedy" you secretly loved horror comedies more than horror but you would never attempt that.

"oh yeaa" Sarah said as you laughed at her

"im gonna go get the snacks i'll be right back"

you said while hopping off her bed and exiting the room. as you walked down the stairs you heard something coming from rafe's room so being the nosy person you are you walk back up the stairs and slowly tip toe to his room door and you put your ear to the door.

you hear moaning and groaning you were scared you thought he was hurt so you quickly opened the door concerned and you see rafe laying down on his bed jerking off. he quickly pulls the covers over him

"what the fuck yn get out" rafe yells

You were shocked you quickly shut the door and ran down stairs, what the hell did you just witness. you tried to get the imagine of rafe's long cock out of your head. You opened the cabinet too look for the popcorn when you felt a strong hand grip your shoulder spinning you around.

"you know its not lady like to enter somebody's room without knocking"

it was rafe, he seemed overly calm... weird.

''i-i thought you w-were hurt."

he laughs slowly and looks you up and down. you take a deep breath to calm yourself down

"you might be a virgin but i know your not stupid princess"

he smirks

"wait..." "was my dick the first one you ever seen before"

he smirks once again, you were too embarrassed to answer that question so you looked down to the floor.

he grabbed your face really hard probably bruising it forcing you too look him in the eye.

"answer. the. question." rafe said "i don't like being ignored y/n."

he looked angry. you were scared to find out what would happen if u didn't answer his question so u did.

"y-yes" you stuttered

he chuckles and lets go oh your face which is most likely bruised now

"holy shit"

"rafe just fuck off okay jeez. every time you see me you don't have to remind me that im still a virgin."

you say as you turn around and grab the popcorn and putting it in the microwave. thats when feel something pocking your lower back.

"no ew rafe stop" you move away from him

"fine, fine"

he says putting his hands up in the air like he's surrendering and walking back up the stairs to his room.

you sigh of relief and grab the popcorn out of the microwave, pour it in a bowl and go back up stairs to Sarah's room.

"hey im back i got popcorn"

"finally you took forever" she laughs

"yea umm your brother wouldn't leave me only."

"just ignore him he's an ass to everyone" sarah says while shrugging

you guys ended up watching scary movie 2. after the movie yall soon fell asleep.

you woke up around midnight you looked over at Sarah she was sound a sleep so sneakily you got out of bed to get some water from the kitchen while you were walking down the stairs you felt a large hand wrap around your figure and put a hand over your mouth so you wouldn't scream.

it was rafe.

"stop moving"

he whispered in your ear but you still tried to wiggle your way out of his grip. he drags you to his room and throws you on the floor locking the door.

"oww what the fuck is wrong with you"

you say almost immediately getting up running over to rafe to try and unlock the door but before you can reach it he grabs you by your hair

"i told you to stop moving" "i don't like disobedience"

"oww rafe stop your hurting me"

he throws you onto the bed back first and pulls off your shorts and underwear and gets onto of you. you tried to scream but he puts his hand over your mouth.

he takes his time pulling your tank top and bra off. you tried to scream but it was muffled due to rafe's hand. Once your tank top and bra is off he started sucking your right nipple.

you didn't want this.

you tried to tell yourself over and over again but you knew it was a lie, what kind of best friend would you be hooking up with your best friends brother.

you moaned, you couldn't help it. but you still tried to wiggle out from under him.

he stopped to take his belt off, pants, and boxers then threw them on the floor using both of his hands so you finally had an chance to say something.

"rafe stop please" you begged "sarah would never forgive you, i would never forgive you."

"i don't give a shit yn, ill do whatever the fuck i want to you and you cant do anything about it"

"rafe please stop im a virgin remember" you pleaded

"oh i remember, i'll be gentle" he said the last part sarcastically

at this point you were straight up sobbing pleading him to stop but you knew it was too late when he felt the head of his cock at your entrance.

he pushed himself into you and he wasn't gentle at all he started thrusting into at a very fast speed.

it wasn't pleasant at all it hurt like hell, he was painfully stretching you out. it was very overwhelming

“God, your so tight.” Rafe grunts, slamming into you at a rate that will leave you sore for days.

i moaned and screamed tears coming out my eyes as he kept going faster and harder.

“Be good and take me.”

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he squeezed your neck chocking you.

he never let up on his speed or brutality

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak.

As you came down from your high His hands tightened around your neck harder as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too.

part 2 ?

#rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x reader #smut #non con

[iluvmissmaximoff]

I don’t understand us

This is part two to “I’m confused about us” tho it can be read alone,

Tags: fem!reader oral(f) receiving, spanking as punishment, crying reader, no real spoilers to the show, mean!billy, no use of y/n (I can’t do it! 😭) also this is kinda short but I’m writing two other stories rn. (Also this is not proofread)hope yall enjoy!

I’m still… confused about us. You thought as the cowboy bellow you ate you out like a starving man. But as good as it felt you couldn’t help thinking about how much your ass hurt since he had just smacked the shit out of it.

Your relationship with Billy made you torn. One second he was absolutely mean to you, pulling you over his knee for doing literally nothing. didn’t fold your panties? that did it. Didn’t do your homework right? That did it. Cussing when you stumped your toe? That fucking did it,

Sometimes it made you mad how he acted “is he not man enough to just ask me to be with him?” You thought, no he’s probably the manliest man I know. Than what is it?

Knock knock knock.

You heard as Billy hit your door, he usually just opens it but yesterday he walked in on you changing, he blushed so hard, you laughed thinking about that moment. Yes? You said as you opened your door. I’ve got to go out tomorrow so I won’t be back till early morning. You sighed internally. Billy was always going out at random times. But I guess that’s better than him having a real job and being gone every day.

The first time he went out he told you

“Don’t even think about sneaking out because I will know about it” he said dominantly. You laughed it off thinking there was no way he could actually find out about it. You didn’t go far. You actually just went down to the edge of the fence like 10ft from the house and pet the horses. Sometimes you wonder why the horses were always coming and going. Never seeing the same one more than twice usually.

But of course, the minute he got home he came up to your room. Hey when did you get back- you tried to ask but were cut off.

As he grabbed your face, not harshly enough to hurt you but it wasn’t pleasant. Why can’t you just listen?! He said with a bite in his tone.

I told you to stay inside. But no. only good girls listen. Your a bad one. ain’t cha? He said, letting go of your face. His words brought tears to your eyes. While your still defiantly a ‘’brat’’ as billy calls it. Sometimes your just not in the mood to have someone upset with you.

You sigh. Looking him in the eyes. Billy I-ugh its not a big deal. I was basically 5 ft from the house.you said sighing. Not a big deal? Little girl.

I decide what’s a big deal or not. He said darkly. And I say you disobeyed me. And since you did that you earned your self a good longgg spanking. He said with a condescending smile on his face.

I- billy your so damn mean, you said slightly pouting. Mean? Oh honey, ill show you mean. He said in a scary dark tone.

And boy did he. He made you sob over his lap by using your hairbrush. When you first started crying you heard him laughing. Above you. Is this his idea of fun? Making me cry? You asked yourself. The thought of it made you mad. So you rebelliously kicked your feet, something you had never done before. This… did not make things better for you. He just started smacking your ass a bit harder.

When it was finally over he gently picked you up and put you on your bed. You were still sobbing because your bottom hurt. And you were still upset billy had laughed at you. The whole spanking thing was embarrassing enough without him laughing at you. (you were also incredibly wet)

You had turned away from him as he sat on your bed. Usually billy tried to console you a little bit. Even though he wasn’t very good at it.

But you shrugged his hand off when he placed it on your shoulder. Stop that honey. He said in a much sweeter tone than before.

No go away. you said ,your voice muffled by the fact that you had your face shoved in your pillow. Sweetheart non of this would happen if you would just obey me. I shouldn’t hav to obey you! You said shooting up from your spot on the bed. You don lemme do nothing. You said with a slight lisp in your voice from crying so hard. I- I can’t even go outside. You said in a whisper. Ugh honey. Everything I do is to protect you. I’m not exactly a loved man around these parts, and I and can’t have anyone thinking they should use you to get to me. Ok? He asked.

You sighed, ok .you agreed. But quickly turned back over into the pillow giving the illusion you were still upset at him.

Now girl. He said in a laughing tone. What is it gon take for you to forgive me?

And that’s how we ended up here. With you grinding your face down on his nose like there’s no tomorrow. He didn’t mind, he defiantly didn’t mind

But you still didn’t understand your relationship. Some nights he had his face buried deep in your cunt, and sometimes he scolded you like a child or yanked you over his knee if you upset him. I don’t understand us. But oh well.

Ok that’s part two! I really like writing for billy but I really want to write for my true love. ✨Finnick✨ I’ve been in love with his character since we first saw him. Tho I write him kinda ooc and like to go a darker route so be prepared for that lol. But comment if y’all want anything else to be added into the next part. Love y’all! #-lanawrites<3

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #tom blyth #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #no y/n #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #save a horse ride a cowboy

[storiesofmyhead]

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: Chishiya gets jealous when Arisu tries to bring Y/n with him to open the safe

Warnings! Kissing, Jealous!Chishiya, use of Y/n

Word count: 1367

“Chishi, I’m tired. Can’t we just go to bed.” Y/n whines.

Shaking his head, he glances over to her. “Not right now. Remember the plan.” He says in a ‘you didn't forget did you’ voice. 

She groans, throwing her head back in annoyance. “But-”

“An hour tops. And then I’m all yours. Sound good?” He says knowing she couldn’t refuse.

“Fineeee.” She drags out following Chishiya out of the room.

Jogging to catch up with his fast strides she grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

~~

“So I’ll ask again. Who thinks Aguni should be leader?” Niragi says in a cocky tone, his gun resting on his shoulder. 

Taking a small step back, Y/n hides behind Chishiya. The nervous gut feeling she gets from Niragi unmatched. 

An takes a small breath, before raising her hand. 

“This is not a democracy.” Mira huffs. Content with An’s answer, Niragi moves over to Mira, his gun close to her head.

“But I think it is, isnt it. You can vote however you want right?” He says though it wasn’t an invitation to vote how everyone really wanted to. So Mira slowly brings her hand up at Niragi’s threat.

“And how about the former number two over there. What do you think?” Remaining silent he raises his hand. 

No matter what everyone really thought, they all knew the power Niragi had over them right now.

“And what about you two? Hm?” Niragi now moves closer to Chishiya, his gun raised, flashing his eyebrows at Y/n.

Chishiya bordley raises his eyes to Niragi, not saying a word as Y/n’s grip on his hand becomes tighter.

“Chishiya~ You’re not lookin’ down on us, are ya?” He says his gun now parallel to his side as he takes a few steps towards the two.

“Yall morons in the corps.” Niragi now angrily steps toe-to-toe with Chishiya, causing Y/n to gasp slightly, as he wraps his arm around her waist pushing her behind him.

Niragi chuckles at the protective movement of Chishiya, switching his gaze to Y/n quickly before landing back on Chishiya. 

“Those eyes of yours piss me off sometimes, you know that?” His gun pointed straight at Chishiya’s head, though he remained calm only slightly shifted back. “You really think you’re better than us, don't ya?”

Chishiya puts his two arms up in surrender, before bringing the left one back down around to Y/n’s waist, his right hand still in the air.

“I vote for Aguni to be the leader.” He says, his voice slightly joking, though Niragi doesn’t seem to care. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you want to hear, don’t you?” 

Scoffing, Niragi takes a big step back. “Well let this be a reminder of how you should act in the future.”

Nervously Y/n’s empty hand plays with the bottom of Chishiya’s jacket, as Niragi’s eyes move to her. Raising one eyebrow, she raises her hand as well.

Head turning towards a scared or shocked Arisu. “Why are you lookin’ so freaked out? I thought I told you to give me an answer.” His gun is now pointing straight into Arisu’s chest.

Though as Niragi taunted the poor kid, Y/n’s ears were filled with sweet nothing’s from Chishiya. He could feel her nervous tendencies behind him, so bringing her in front of him, he knew that whispering to her would cause her to focus on him and his words, nothing else. 

~~

Sitting in Kuina’s room, Chishiya sat in an armchair at the end of the coffee table, with Y/n by his side as she was growing tired. Her clinginess intensing with every second she stayed awake. 

“First Arisu will infiltrate the royal suite. Then he’ll search for the safe, and steal all the playing cards inside.”

A worried look on Arisu’s face. “And how will I get the code?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He replies looking down at the coffee table. “Ill let you know when you’re near the safe.” He slides a walkie-talkie to Arisu.

“I sure hope you’re right.” He says with an unsure look on his face. “Im taking Y/n with me.” he states causing everyone to look up shocked, Chishiya with a glare. “For precautions, you know just in case the walkie-talkie doesn’t work.” He shrugs.

“No.” Chishiya glares, Y/n stands nervously shuffling her feet behind him. 

“Why not? You’re sure of this plan right?” His eyebrow quirks. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us?”

“Fine.” He growls, his eyes darkening. “But you get caught and drag her into it. I’ll make sure sleeping with those bodies in the dumpster.”

~~

Sneaking into the office, Y/n can hear Chishiya’s voice on the walkie-talkie. Her eyes darted around, nervously as she knows the actual plan, well she knew the actual plan. Now that Arisu brought her along, she didn’t know what was gonna happen and that made her nervous.

Punching in the code, the safe beeps signaling that the code was wrong. Arisu now scared, his eyes wide, pulled at the safe hoping it would open.

“It’s not opening.” He pulled some more. “Chishiya.” His eyes looked over his shoulder at Y/n to see her taking steps back towards the door, her focus on him.

“Chishiya! You there?” He spoke again.

Y/n watched as Niragi, Aguni and their goonies walked into the room, their eyes falling on Y/n before she pointed to Arisu.

“Ya, I really gotta hand it to you. You got balls.” Niragi taunts.

Y/n’s eyes quickly found Chishiya, as she ran over to him. His clm exterior unbroken though she knew he was relieved by the quick kiss he placed on her temple as she hid her face in his neck.

“You’re safe. I’m right here. Don’t worry.” His whisper’s filled her ears, as she focused on his voice.

Slightly pushing her away, his arm falling to her waist. “Go back to our room. Ill be there in a few minutes.”

Nodding, she places a kiss on his cheek, before running off to their room.

~~

Snuggled in under the covers, she watched the door, waiting for Chishiya to walk in. Finally after what felt like forever, the door opened. 

Smiling, she watches her close the door and shrug off his white jacket, placing it on a chair, before pulling off his shirts as well just towing that on the ground in the pile with their other dirty clothes.

Her eyes fell on his bare body, though no muscles showed he was still slightly toned. Opening her arms, Chishiya smiled tiredly, lifting the cover and sliding in. Wrapping his arms around her hips and resting his head on her chest.

“ ‘m so tired.” He mumbled.

Giggling, she nodded. “Me too. We can go to bed now though baby. Just me and you.” Lifting his chin up she places a kiss on his lips.

Moving to pull away, his hand stops her as it slides to the back of her neck. Placing his lips on her’s roughly, she gasped slightly not expecting it.

Smiling into the kiss, she pulled away not out of air. “What was that all about.”

Chuckle slightly placed his head back on her chest. “Stupid kid, changing my plan. Made me nervous. I told them that he forced you along, but I didn’t know if they’d believe me. Was scared that Niragi would do something to you.” His voice muffled at the end as he buried his head in her chest.

Eyes wide, Y/n sat silent at his confession. Chishiya was never good with words and the fact that he said all of what he did was surprising.

Sighing happily she places a kiss on his head. “I love you.”

“ ‘m love you too.” His voice muffled once again, though she knew what he said, a goofy smile on her face as it was the first time he had ever replied.

“ ‘m so proud of you.” She mumbled into his hair, placing one more kiss before letting the exhaustion take over.

#chishiya shuntaro #aib chishiya #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #nijiro murakami #alice in borderland #aib #chishiya x you #shuntaro chishiya

[rrenzwrld]

what you don’t know

spiderman!eren x captain’s daughter! black reader

— you don’t like spiderman, but “spiderman” likes you

(eren doesn’t fully turn into spiderman here but you know he’s meant to be the peter parker so don’t yell at me yall)

Because you were the captain’s daughter, you had grown up thinking that your father was your hero. That he was the only person capable enough of doing all he could to protect the city and everyone in it. But some kid in a suit and mask swinging around town just had to come into the picture, and you didn’t like that. You didn’t like him, “friendly neighborhood spiderman” as he called himself because although he was there whenever anyone was in danger, he was just some kid in a mask and suit swinging around and meddling in situations he had no business. But to everyone else, he was a hero even if all they saw of him was on tv or something.

“Girl yesterday, this lil bum snatched my bag on the way to school and guess who got it back for me? Spidey~ I’m tellin you that man is fine under that mask, gotta be.” You cringed at how your friend was talking about this person when there could be a chance it was some very spry old man under the concealed identity.

“That’s something you could call the police for. Because what if “Spidey” took your bag from the boy and ran off with it too? Yall be trustin his ass way too much..”

“My man wouldn’t do me like that, besides,” She held up her hand and crossed her fingers. “We like this for real.” You rolled your eyes at your friend’s delusion.

“Whatever, Jay…”

The day went on as normal for the most part until you walked in on a fight starting to happen in the middle of the hallway because people were crowding around. It looked like it was gonna be between Reiner and this random kid who didn’t stand a chance so the match was uneven. Reiner was captain of the football team and also considered as the school bully, going around tormenting kids he knows wouldn’t fight against him. You dated him once but it was only for 3 months because the things he could do with other girls in the school, he couldn’t do with you so you broke up with him and his attitude.

“Ugh, what an asshole…” Jay mumbled as the two of you watched like everyone else. Although you wanted to wait to see if anything would happen like everyone was hyping up, you were gonna step in to stop everything until someone beat you to it.

“Reiner!” The brave soul in question was Eren Yeager. Even though he was looked at as something of a timid nerd at face value, he was a really cool person when you got to know him. Because he didn’t play sports, people really only knew him for his photography skills which he showcased every year at various school events and even outside school for the daily news paper.

“Einstein! Glad you could make it!” Reiner chuckled and everyone turned to Eren.

“I thought we talked about the whole picking fights with kids thing? Thought you were better than that.” Eren stepped through the crowd and up to Reiner, who continued to laugh in his face.

“Nope, just better than you. Looks like you wanna be next in line.” Reiner cracked his knuckles. You couldn’t stand to see any more of this so you pushed your way into the center with the boys and everyone was taken aback. You tried to stay out the way most of the time but one thing about you? You couldn’t do the bullying.

“Nah,” You gently moved Eren out the way so that you and Reiner stood toe to toe. “Why don’t you fight me, Rei?” The crowd reacted to your proposition.

“What’d I tell you about minding your business, baby?” He smirked but you winced at the pet name.

“As someone who has the captain of the police department on speed dial, I suggest you mind yours and stop being an asshole.” After he looked around at the crowd of students, he smiled before holding his hands up in defense.

He shrugged. “Fine,” He backs up and the crowd parts for him while he looks at Eren and the underclassman. “You two should thank her.”

After all of that happened, the kid who Reiner was about to fight came up to you to thank you for standing against Reiner for him. The kid shouldn’t have been put in that situation and Reiner shouldn’t have wanted to fight him for any reason, but you knew that whole thing was a power trip for him and didn’t mind being the one to take that from him.

Eren had came up to you later on that day as well during dismissal.

“Y/n?” He called out to you from behind.

“Hey, Eren. What’s up?” He fiddled with the straps of his bag and before speaking.

“Thank you for keeping Reiner in check earlier. Thought I was the only one not okay with him going around and fighting kids.” You two laughed together.

“No problem, I just hate bullies. Him especially.”

“Yeah, me too. Can’t believe you dated that guy…” You and Eren walked side by side out the school on the way home in the streets of Manhattan.

“He was cool when I met him, I dunno what happened.” You shrugged. You were hurt that his character changed so much but maybe that’s who he really was all along and you was oblivious to it. You and Eren skipped the topic of your dating history and talked about all kinds of things. You felt comfortable talking to him even if he wasn’t in your close circle of friends and it didn’t mind hanging out with him another time outside of school.

“This your stop?” You slowed down walking.

“Yeah, where’s yours?” He gestured towards blocks away from your apartment building.

“Way down there. I’ll make it though, you worried?” You rolled your eyes, not knowing that he was such a flirt.

You giggled at his words to your surprise “Not in the slightest. See you tomorrow?”

“If nothing happens to me between now and tomorrow. Not that you care.” He smiled. You playfully shoved him.

“Bye, Yaeger.” You made it up the stairs and into the building

“See you..” He watched as you walked inside before walking forward himself, just to make sure you got inside safely.

(maybe i am slightly ashamed of this + wanting to continue it but tell me where yall stand..)

#aot x reader #aot #black reader #aot x black reader #eren #aot eren #eren x reader #eren x black y/n #eren x black fem!reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #spiderman #spiderman au #reiner braun #aot reiner

[ellewritesalright]

Foxtrot

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N: hi! This was a request by an anon! Hope yall enjoy :)

Request: reader is like the princess or some kind of duchess from kerch and she gets invited to a ball in ravka. there, she meets nikolai and he is head over heels for her and they dance and everything

Warnings: Fluff, dancing, me not knowing shit about dancing

Word Count: 900

..........

The ball wasn't his idea. Genya was the organizer, and David and Zoya fell into the roles of enabler and enforcer respectively. Nikolai didn't see the use in a great gathering like this, but Genya was insistent.

"You need a queen, and what better place to find one than through drink and dance," she'd said.

He wanted to bash his head against the freshly painted walls of the Grand Palace's ballroom, but sighed and stayed stoic at his post in the corner. He took up residence there as soon as the evening started, allowing guests to approach and greet him while Tamar and Tolya flanked him. He made idle conversation as he watched the dancing.

Ties and tails and ballgowns of every colour--though he noticed a wealth of women in emerald green, the same colour of the gem reserved for the Lantsov royal family--swished about the room. It was a little nice to see the dancing, a little mesmerizing even, but he would never tell Genya that he was enjoying himself.

When the band's song finished, the dancers came to a stop. People milled on the floor for a moment, then a Kerch foxtrot began. Many people left for refreshments, but a few couples remained. The dance was not popular with Ravkans as most preferred a waltz, and he saw many nobles from his country skirting to the edges of the room. Even the seemingly most accomplished dancers from other countries were sitting this one out, but there in the middle of the floor was you and a graceless partner.

He'd seen you throughout the night, flowing across the room no matter who your partner was. His eyes often tracked you and your deep blue dress. It reminded him of the ocean waves cresting, especially with its white lining that complimented your movements so perfectly.

He knew your partner. The Count of Ulensk, who spent more time bidding on horses in Caryeva than caring for his people at home. Despite all his time in the liveliest Ravkan city, he was a terrible dancer. You flowed as gracefully as a swan, he moved more like a penguin, clonking about and stepping on your toes.

Without a second thought, Nikolai excused himself from whichever diplomat he was conversing with and strode towards the floor. He tapped the Count on the shoulder.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but may I steal this dance with your partner?"

The Count seemed offended for a moment, but he quickly nodded. "Of course, your highness."

As soon as he was out of sight, Nikolai gave you a smile and took your hand. He bowed, you bowed, and the dancing began

"Thank you," you said.

He gave you a charming smile. "Don't mention it. I couldn't let you suffer out here, especially not when you're the best dancer I've seen all night."

At his words your eyes dipped bashfully.

"That's a lofty compliment, one I'm not sure I'm worthy of. I'm only alright at dancing."

"Then everyone else must be abysmal. Quite unfortunate they were all invited to this ball, then. I must tell my advisors to invite real dancers to one of these next time. And you, of course. Even if you are only alright." He took a good look at you before he swiveled the two of you. "Where are you from?"

"Kerch, your highness. I came with my father, Councilman Bodden."

Your father was a Councilman in Kerch? That meant you had money; Genya and the squadron of people invested in his future queen would love that for Nikolai and for the Ravkan coffers.

He turned the pair of you around again, marveling a bit at how well you kept up. "And how was your journey?"

"Land travel became a bit boring after a while, especially through the desert of the former Fold. The trip across the True Sea was my favourite part of it."

"Was it now?" He raised a brow.

He wasn't sure if you were honest. He knew some in Ravkan court knew his identity on the sea. Perhaps the secret had spread and your speaking about the sea was a mere tactic to attract him to you. Yet that possibility didn't stop him from thinking you were incredibly cute.

"It was, your highness." Your eyes lit up. "My family's home is on the water, but we rarely go out into the harbours, and we'd never crossed the sea before--well I think my father had, but I certainly hadn't."

"Until now," he grinned

"Until now," you said with a nod.

He dipped you, his hand strong at the square of your back. You smiled politely, though he could see in your excited eyes how you were holding back a grin. He raised you back up.

"And do you like it here in Ravka?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," you breathed. "Very much so."

"I'm glad," he said.

Then the pair of you danced in comfortable silence. Nikolai couldn't stop staring into your eyes. And you–despite your initial meekness–met his stare eagerly, as though his eyes were speaking of their own accord, whispering pretty things to you. Saints knew he wanted to say them aloud, but a crowded ballroom hardly seemed the place for them.

The band slowed, the rest of the dancers did too, but Nikolai didn't want to stop. He held your hand even as the music stopped completely and both his and your feet had halted.

"Will you dance the next song with me, your highness?" You asked, your eyes hopeful.

"It would be my honour."

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! Reminder that requests are still open for shorter fics like this. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #grishaverse fanfic

[azulera]

Manny

Pairing: Marcus Rashford x Black Reader

Summary: You give Marcus a manicure (and he thanks you).

Notes: i need Rashy so badly like yall do not understand… his weird fingernails and all. this was supposed to be short and family friendly but the ending … u can tell what im going thru ——————————————————————————

She had found a rhythm, was nearly finished with the last two nails of his left hand when Marcus flinched, hissing as the blades cut a little too close. He turned his head from the random episode of Bake-off playing on the bedroom television, but her eyes stayed focused on the cuticle scissors in her hand, lip caught between her teeth.

“Sorry, baby, I'm almost done. You’re doing so good.”

“S’okay.” He mumbled, and lifted his right hand from her thigh to inspect the digits, his other still resting in the gap between her crossed legs. They’d been clipped, filed, and even lovingly coated with a moisturizer she ordered specialty from Japan, and he gave them a quiet, but pleased “Looks nice.” She looked up from her task a moment just to smile.

“You’re sure you don’t want clear gloss on top? It’ll make them shiny.”

“Don’t need them to be shiny. Just healthy, innit. So long as they’re not bleedin, fallin off, then I’m good.”

She frowned.

“That’s a poor way to think about your body, though. You wouldn’t say the same if it was your knees, or toes.”

He shrugged. “Me legs and feet are way more important. Don’t need hands so much to do what I need to.”

“Don’t you want Jesse and your mates to stop bantering you?”

“I don’t care what them lot have to say. Not holdin their hand or anythin, anyway.

“But didn’t your mum ever tell you, girls won’t let you touch them if your fingernails aren’t nice?”

“You let me touch you, don’t you?” He licked his lips, and finally moved his eyes to hers, away from the TV. “And you like it, so.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a ribbon of heat flashed in her belly. Having finished with his little finger, she put down the scissors, and reached around the floor for the lotion.

“But I always make sure you cut and clean them good first, don’t I. And with your nails all pretty like this …”

She trailed off, gently rubbing the cream into his skin, and he leaned forward, crowding into her space. He let out soft hums as she moved from finger to finger, and began to massage his opposite thumb into her inner thigh.

“So let me touch you now.” He suggested, his voice much lower than before, and she could feel his warm breath fan against her face. Her spine tingled, but she didn’t respond until she finished, putting the nail supplies to the side and snapping the lotion bottle closed.

“Just put all this fancy moisturizer on for you. And you’re tryna undo all my hard work?”

“Nah, the opposite, really,” The hand on her leg creeped higher and higher, and his mouth moved closer, his nose nuzzling along her neck. “Wanna say thank you. For always taking care of me so good.”

“You can thank me by giving your nails a break,” She breathed, curling an arm around his neck, trying not to squirm. “Quit biting them.”

“But you'll like this 'thank you' way better.” He promised, pressing a kiss just under her ear. “Both know you will.”

Her instinct was to protest, but instead she tugged him closer by the hand, kissing away his sly smile. “Bare smooth, aren’t you" she teased as he laid her back against the pillows, feeling at his fingers for flaws, and knowing she would find none.

#marcus rashford x oc #marcus rashford x you #marcus rashford x reader #marcus rashford fanfiction #footballer x you #footballer x reader #football imagine #football fanfic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 36

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: we made it to friday so yall can eat up.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You hold back another yawn, your cheeks puffing out as you flutter your lashes. Odin tilts his head as he props his chin into his hand. He grins, "I've worn you out."

"No, I..." you try to roll the fatigue off your shoulders, "I'm okay."

"Don't trouble yourself," he stands, "dear, you go get some sleep. I've kept you a while."

You rise hesitantly as he comes around the desk, "I don't mind."

"Oh, you say that a lot, perhaps you should mind," he turns you to the door with hand on your back, "it isn't so bad to say what you want. Or don't want."

"I wasn't..."

"I am not reprimanding you. I am giving you advice," he opens the door, "but I expect no one's ever listened when you did say so."

You look down meekly and shrug, "well, I could... speak up."

"And you blame yourself," he says, "you deserve kindness. Especially from you." He rubs your back and nudges you ahead, "go on, I won't keep you any longer."

"Thank you, Odin," you smile, almost teary-eyed. You're just tired.

"Good night, dear," he says as you step into the hallway.

You turn back to return the nicety. He leans on the door as he eases it towards the frame, pausing before he closes it fully, "should you fancy another chocolate, you know where to find them."

You thank him again and he shuts the door. You turn down the hallway and stop short. You're not alone. Mr. Laufeyson has a hand on the doors to your room as he leans on one foot, a toe dug into the rug as he narrows his sights at you.

"There you are," he greets curtly.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you scurry forward, "I'm sorry, I was only--"

"With my father, yes, I can hear," he interjects, "you sound like you get along."

"I... I think so. He was very nice."

"Was he?" He scoffs and twists a door handle, swinging the door open, "get inside."

You bow your head and swiftly enter. He follows, the lock clicking loudly behind you. You turn and hug yourself as you watch him pace before the doors.

"He invited me-- I didn't--"

"Yes, yes, my father is demanding, don't I know it," he snips, "you think I am unhappy because of that?"

"I don't... I don't know, Mr. Laufeyson," you murmur.

"I am not unhappy," he insists as he stops, jabbing a finger upwards, "I was only waiting a rather long time for you to appear."

"I'm sorry," you repeat.

"My room is the next, to the right as you emerge," he explains, "so it isn't very far." He shrugs and tucks his hands into his pockets. You notice his shoulders, how he holds them rigidly. He's tense. "Did you encounter anyone else, then? My brother?"

"No," you shake your head vehemently, "only Odin. Your father, sir."

"Hm, fortunate," he remarks, "I shouldn't have left you but I thought my mother would keep a close eye."

"She did, I only... was tired and came up here."

"Tired," he nods, "certainly, me too."

You stand in silence. His tone softens with his last words, as if you can hear the weariness in him. You can see it in his eyes. After all, he did drive for hours.

He exhales and strolls forward. You move aside as he nears the foot of the bed and sits. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. He runs his hands over his face and groans.

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his legs. He slumps there, silently glaring at the floor. If something is wrong, he refuses to say it. Maybe it's this place. You know well how home can fill you with dread.

You move slowly around, hesitant and unsure. You near the side of the bed. He doesn't flinch as your weight dips into the mattress. You don't know what you're doing, you're not sure if you should.

You walk on your knees across the bed and place your hands on his shoulders. You feel the tension wrought in him. You squeeze and knead, uncertain. You never done this before.

He sits up but you keep your hands on him.

"What are you doing?" He growls as he cranes his head.

"You uh... a... massage?" You offer dumbly, "you were in the car all day and... I thought."

"Mmm," he turns forward again, letting his elbows once more rest on his thighs, "you may go on.”

You shift, trying to get a better hold on him. You feel the tightness nestling in the muscles along his neck. You follow the natural grooves of his muscles with your fingertips, encouraged only by his groans 

“Pet…” his voice is as weak as you've ever heard it.

You let up, tickling down so he shivers, then quickly work the knots again. The busy work of your hands keep your nerves from boiling over. He puffs out and lifts his head, pushing it back.

“Where has this come from?” He asks in a wisp.

“I… don't know,” you answer honestly.

He straightens and picks at his collar. He unbuttons his shirt and sheds it as you withdraw your touch. He reveals his bare skin and jostles on the mattress, planting himself firmly.

You touch him again. His warmth seeps into you as goosebumps prickle his skin. The tender calm of the moment has you speechless.

“Yesss,” he purrs, once more bowing his head. “Pet…” he grips his thighs.

You run your fingertips further down his back and drive your thumbs into the muscles along his sides. He growls and you ease up, scared you might have hurt him. He reaches back, pointing over his shoulder.

“Like that,” he directs, “I can take it.”

You obey. You aren't used to be so rough. Everything you do is with a degree of fear. Your hands are never forceful or firm.

He sighs and snarls. You drag your hands up and back down again. He shivers again and stands suddenly, frightening you. You sit back on your heels and stare at him.

“Did I…”

“You,” he wiggles a finger at you.

“What?”

He shakes his head and steps towards the bed. He beckons you closer. You inch forward on your knees. He grabs your blouse, quickly pulling it out of your skirt. He peels it up and you barely get your arms up before they're tangled in the fabric.

He strips away the fabric and snakes his arms around you to unhook your bra. You kneel before him paralysed as he undresses you to the waist. His eyes are smoky as he takes you in.

“Down,” he points to the mattress, “on your stomach.”

You lower yourself down as you slide back. You bend your arms up around your head and put your cheek to the blanket. He skirts around and climbs over the side, straddling you beneath him. He rests his knuckles between your shoulder blades as you curl your fingertips against the covers.

He pushes down into the muscles and you squeak. He leans his weight into his tending, tracing his thumbs down your flesh. You gasp as you feel tension slake from your muscles, tightness you never even noticed.

His long fingers explore your naked back, framing your hips as he kneads. You mewl, unable to stem the release as it rolls from your throat. He snickers and keeps his hands working.

You close your eyes, melting under his touch. He is much better than you, more confident. He must have done this before, maybe with his wife. Maybe it was even romantic, with candles and rose petals. 

He tickles along your sides and sets his hands on the mattress. He lowers himself over you and presses against your bottom, chafing the raw skin beneath your skirt. You moan as his hard length rest firmly against you.

He brings a hand under your chin, lifting your head as he keeps it twisted. He angles to press his lips to yours. He kisses you sloppily as his other arm hooks beneath you. He gropes your bare chest, his thumb flicking over your budded nipple.

“Pet,” he parts with a groan before once more devouring you.

He rocks atop you as his breath hitches. Your heart beats wildly as you brace the bed, arching awkwardly to meet his hungry kisses. His lips trails along your cheek and down the side of your neck. He nuzzles your neck and bites into the muscles along your shoulder. You cry out at the pinch.

“I could have you just like this,” he breathes against your skin, his hips still tilting. “Is that what you want, hm? Is that your trick, pet?”

“Trick?” You eke out, “what do you–”

He lifts himself and flips you over harshly. You bounce on your back and yipe. He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, “what did you and my father speak of, him?”

His muscles pull taught under his skin straining in his chest as he leans over you. You whimper and squirm, kicking your feet as his grip aches in your wrists. What have you done?

“Mr. Laufeyson, please, I wasn’t… we didn’t…”

“Tell me,” he demands.

You bat your lashes, “he… he gave me some chocolate.”

“Chocolate?” He echoes derisively.

“Yeah…” you croak, “he… he asked me what music I like. And if I read–” your voice crackles.

“And what did he say of me?” He hisses.

“N-nothing,” you sniff, “I swear.”

“And what did you say of me?”

“Nothing,” you repeat. “Please.”

He narrows his eyes and curls his lips, “hm, I believe you. You’re not clever enough to lie that well.”

He lets you go and sits up on his knees. He looks down on you, his eyes slowly trailing down to your exposed chest. You lay, paralysed and prone. A knock comes at the door, jolting both of you.

“Darling,” Frigga’s voice wafts through, “is everything alright?”

Your eyes round as Laufeyson scowls. He shakes his head and huffs, pushing off of you. He climbs off the bed and swipes up your blouse, tossing it at you.

“Get rid of her,” he hisses.

You grab the shirt and throw it over your head. You stand as he retreats into the bathroom, closing the door only halfway. You go to the door as you tug the blouse straight.

“Everything’s alright,” you say through the wood.

“Are you sure, dear?” She tries the handle.

You peek back and gulp. You flip back the lock and push down on the handle, inching back the door until you can see through, “yeah, I was getting changed and… I couldn’t find something. Think I forgot it.”

“Oh, well, if you need, you can always borrow from me,” she offers.

“Nothing important,” you insist, “thanks. I’m just about to lay down.”

“Of course, honey, so sorry to disturb.”

“No worries,” you smile and gently shut the door. Your hand lingers and you gently turn the lock back into place.

“Perhaps I was mistaken,” Laufeyson emerges, “that was rather convincing.”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur, “I wouldn’t lie to you–”

“Certainly you wouldn’t,” he sneers.

You flutter your fingers at your side and teeter on your toes. He goes back to the bed as he undoes his fly. You furrow your brow and stare past him at the wall. What is he doing?

He drops his pants and kicks them away, “well, undress.”

Your heart leaps and thumps violently. Your hands tremble as you lift the blouse again. You let it drift to the floor and touch the top of your skirt. Is he… going to do it? Are you? Both of you?

You look down, opening and closing your mouth as your jaw threatens to lock up. Your ears feel ready to pop. You feel along your skirt and unzip the back. It slackens and you wiggle free of the fabric. You roll down your panties and watch them fall to your ankles. You step out of the fabric, only in your stockings as the bed frame softly creaks.

You dip a finger under the top of your thigh-highs and Laufeyson growls. You peek up, frozen, and find him watching you. He’s completely naked, his hand around his dick as he tilts his head.

“Keep those on,” he commands, “come here.”

You stand straight and pad towards him. You reach forward tentatively and climb up onto the bed. He gestures you closer and you stretch out next to him. He curls an arm around you and settles you in.

He drags his hand from his arousal and trails over your thigh, along your hip, and up your side. You quiver as he cups your chest and leans in to kiss you. He fondles you, tweaking and squeezing, groaning into your mouth as his tongue delves further.

He draws a line up your chest and across your shoulder. He brushes down your arm and takes your hand. He pulls it toward him and circles it around his length. He snarls as he squeezes your grasp tight on him, guiding it up then down. As he lets go, you continue to pump him.

He continues to smother you as his fingers tickle the vee of your pelvis. He dips down and touches the patch of hair there. He urges his fingers between your folds, sliding along the slickness gathering there. You squeak as he plays with you.

You work your hand in tandem with him. You match his rhythm as he toys with you, swirling then pushing his fingers back, only to spread your wetness around. Each time his fingers poke back, he gets closer to your entrance.

You lift your leg, opening yourself to him as a storm brews in you. You shudder as you grip him tighter. He groans again, the rocky noise sending a thrill through you. He rubs you fast and glides back again. He pokes against you, bending his fingers and dips a fingertip into you.

You gasp and pull away from his mouth. He catches the back of your head in his hand and eases you down to your back. He stays close, leaning over you, as slips his finger in deeper. You whine and he hushes you.

“Pet, relax,” he coos, pulling his finger in and out. Your bite down on your lip, your hand still as the shock of his intrusion stuns you. “Does that feel nice?”

You can’t speak. You don’t know. It feels… different. Tingly and hot but cold at the same time. He presses the heel of his hand against you, pressure flurrying beneath his touch. He rocks his hand as you splay, your grasp slipping from him and circling around his wrist.

“Pet…” he presses his nose to your temple, breathing down your cheek, “don’t tell me you’re going to cum?”

You whimper and curl your fingers tighter. He shakes his hand and you sink into the mattress. Breath mewls escape your lips.

“Tell me then,” he slithers, “tell me when you cum.”

Your eyes roll back and your head lolls. You puff out through a pout. Your chest thrums and your core swells. You feel the peak ahead, just within reach. Your thighs clench and tremble, the muscles uncoiling all at once as you cry out.

“Tell me…” he growls.

You choke as you spasm, “cum– I’m— cumming.”

“Yes,” he coaxes as he fucks you with his finger, “yes, pet, say it.”

“Cumminggggg,” your voice unravels, “oh–”

“Say it, say my name,” he growls.

“Mr.--”

“Loki,” he demands, “say it…”

“Loki!” you whine, “Lo-ki…”

“Mmm, yes, what a good little pet,” he drags his nose around your cheek, “my pet, yes? All mine.’

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #maid au #au #avengers #marvel #mcu #thor

[matthewtkachuk]

monday morning - nathan mackinnon

the boys win the Stanley Cup and you end up in bed with one of them

pairing: nathan mackinnon x reader

warnings: mention of alcohol, mention of sex (not quite explicit but more than implied - yk my brand by now), sex that takes place after both parties have been drinking (if this is a trigger feel free to skip! take care of yourselves my loves)

word count: 1.2k

a/n: hey besties long time no see, hope yall are doing well. one week ago, the colorado avalanche won the stanley cup and you know a bitch couldn't resist a post-win fic <3 s/o to @antoineroussel for being the only one awake and telling me when i'm being pretentious

Monday morning you wake with the feeling of cotton balls stuffed down your throat and a heavy body weighing you down into the mattress. For a moment you can’t quite figure out where you are or how you got here—it’s quite difficult to make sense of anything as you burrow your head back deeper into the pillows and keep your eyes squeezed shut.

Wiggling your toes, you assess the damage, but it’s almost impossible to move under the weight on top of you. Said weight starts to shift a little in its slumber you assume, and that’s when you come to realize whoever is on top of you is one, naked, and two, very very heavy. One of his wandering hands slides from its place by your side up to rest on the underside of your boob and that’s when you realize a third thing—you’re naked too. 

The night before comes back to you in bits and pieces—the longest five minutes of your life at the end of the third period, someone screeching in your ear at the final buzzer, placing your hands on the ever elusive lord stanley and then drinking shitty beer out of it with the half naked team who’d won it half an hour before. Linking arms with some of the better halves and stumbling out of a hostile arena into an even more hostile city, and yet finding a club/bar more than willing to take your—well, not yours specifically—”dirty” money. 

Shots and then more shots and then more shots. If you think hard enough, you vaguely remember doing a body shot off André. Somebody pressing a water into your hands and you pretending to take a large slip before leaving it on the closest bar top when they turned around. Sliding in real close into… someone’s embrace shortly after and then staying there for the rest of the night. You can picture their muscled shoulders and feel the heat of their calloused hands and yet their face remains beneath a dark cloud in your mind. 

“You wanna go back to mine?” whispered in your ear and wandering hands and giggles turned whines turned moans turned toes curling and nails dragging down backs. Chapped lips and a bearded face and praise shared like an oath. 

But who? 

You’re afraid to open your eyes, afraid to face whoever is in your bed or maybe whose bed you’re in, afraid you won’t like who you find or afraid you will and they won’t want you too in the fresh morning light. You know it’s a hotel room—or at least you’re pretty sure it’s a hotel room based on the feel of the sheets beneath you and the too fluffy pillow that’s got your neck at an uncomfortable angle. 

If you had it your way you’d never find out whose hotel room it is, but ultimately you don’t have much of a choice. Not when the mysterious not-quite-stranger presses a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck before rolling off of you with a groan.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he says, punctuated by a small exhale of breath that can only be indicative of disbelief. 

The feeling of your chest constricting is timed perfectly with the way the rest of the night flashes by—EJ leaving a sloppy kiss on your cheek, Mel crying into your shoulder, one too many Jägerbombs.

And then Nate. 

Nate lifting you into his arms on the ice and shouting about how they finally fuckin’ did it, Nate’s everlasting eye contact as he tips the Stanley Cup so that the alcohol falls into your awaiting mouth, Nate’s front pressed to your back on the dance floor, Nate’s arms feeling like home when you didn’t know which direction was left and which direction was right. Nate leading you to his hotel room, fingers brushing the 1787 numberplate before turning their attention on you. 

Stumbling into Nate and kissing him and running your fingers through his hair and along the beard on his jawline—”this is so sexy”—getting your hands on him and pressing and pulling and prodding until his naked body covered yours on the neatly made bed. You’d teased him for it, asked him if it was a superstition or just his good manners that had him making the bed on the most important morning of his hockey career yet. He’d only kissed you quiet. 

And then a moment of clarity in the drunken, lust-fuelled haze where he’d pushed back the hair from your face and asked if you were sure. When you’d told him you’d never wanted anything more, he’d told you without shame that it was a tie between you and the cup, and he’d ‘already won the cup tonight.’

It sends tingles down your spine to remember the way he looked at you last night. A look you’d previously seen hours earlier, looking around at the boys after the final buzzer, and then pushing his captain towards it only to hold it minutes later. Like you were the Stanley Cup, like you were the culmination of two and a half decades of hard work and perseverance and overcoming adversity, like you were the thing he’d spent his entire life waiting for.

“The cup and the girl...fuck am I ever lucky,” he speaks again before pulling you so that you lay half on top of him this time. You finally open your eyes to see that very same look still on his face. “Good morning.”

“Hi,” you say, suddenly very shy and wanting to disappear into the covers. You push down the urge to run for the nearest hill, tentatively placing your hand on his chest above his heart. When he covers it with his own you find the courage to speak again. “How did you sleep?” 

“I think I’m still drunk,” he admits with a laugh, “but I’ve never slept better.” 

“Better than Landy?” you ask. “Bet he slept naked in EJ’s hotel room with the cup between them.” 

Nate laughs out loud at that and you preen under the sound. “We’ll get our turn to sleep naked with the cup.” 

“We?” you ask hopefully, tentatively. Despite the look in his eye and the fact that he has yet to let you go, you’re not the kind of girl who makes assumptions or gets her hopes up. In fact, you’re the very opposite—more likely to assume the worst in any situation, and you in fact do so now. 

“I think I made myself pretty clear last night,” he smirks and you remember the gentle way he regarded you during sex. “I’m not a man of many words, we both know that. But you have to know how I feel about you.” 

His hand cups your face and his thumb gently skims your cheekbone before your lips are pressed together.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

#nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon fanfic #nathan mackinnon fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon imagines #shelb writes

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

Heartwork- E.M. Pt. 7

YALL BETTER GET READY THINGS ARE FINALLY STARTING TO GET JUICY.

You go day drinking with Eddie to help him feel better.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 8 - 9 - Epilogue Masterlist

TW- drinking, cursing, angst, mentions of cheating, suggestive content but nothing very graphic

Pairings- Eddie X Reader

Word Count- 2,127

(Gif not mine, credit to owner!)

You and Eddie walk down the street together to the Hideout and sit at the bar with a purpose, immediately ordering a couple of shots. You thank the bartender as she sets them in front of you and turn to face Eddie, who’s trying to look cheerful, but it’s obvious that he’s still thinking about Y/BFF/N getting married. The thought is still bizarre to you, too, but clearly not as detrimental as it is to Eddie. You hold up your shot to clink against his, and you pound it back, feeling the burn down your throat as you swallow. “You know,” Eddie says, drawing your eyes away from the pictures lining the walls. “Y/BFF/N was the one who wanted me to quit Corroded Coffin in the first place,” You scoff, finding yourself filled with more and more anger with the person you used to call your best friend.  

“Why? I thought she loved watching you play! I know I did. I really thought you were gonna make it big,” You shake your head at the ridiculousness of the notion and order another round. 

“Yeah, she said it was time to settle down and make a life for us, so I did. I sold the van, got a sensible car, a sensible job, and became this,” His brows knit together, gesturing down to himself. “An average fucking chump with nothing to show for his life.” He breathes a sigh and throws his shot back. You follow suit. 

“And then, as a thank you for being the person she asked you to be, she cheats on you?” You guess. He nods his head slowly, mulling it over.  

“Yeah. Less than six months later. I found them together. I came home early one day from work cause there was a gas leak at the garage and there they were. In bed. Together.” He looks away, folding his hands in front of him. He fiddles with his rings as he does, twisting one around his finger. You sit back against the back of the stool, breathing a scoff. Time for another round. 

“That’s ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. You deserved so much better,” You promise. Eddie flicks his eyes over to you and gives you a small smile.  

Eddie takes the refilled shot glass in his hand, looking down into the amber liquid before drinking it, jaw clenched. He lets out a big breath and puts the glass back on the counter, face down, before turning to you. “You wanna dance?” he asks suddenly. Before you can answer, he pats the bar with conviction and gets up, pulling you from your chair. You give a short laugh, the alcohol starting to warm up your belly. “Hey, Mel,” Eddie calls to the bartender, “can you turn it up, please?”  

Mel shrugs but goes to turn a knob on the wall, the music getting louder. It’s not something you or Eddie would typically listen to, but you don’t think it really matters right now. Eddie just needs some distracting. You can help with that. Eddie takes one hand in yours, the other on your hip and you begin swaying in a silly circle. It’s not a serious kind of dance, just something fun for you to do. It feels even sillier with the shots kicking in. Your toes are starting to feel fuzzy. You laugh a little as Eddie spins you clumsily and you trip over your feet as you turn, but you stick the landing okay as Eddie’s hand comes back to your waist.  

You do that for a while, sway and spin, sway and spin in relative silence as a few songs pass, but you’re starting to get dizzy now since you’re feeling pretty tipsy, so you go to sit back at the bar and get a glass of water. Eddie stays standing, his eyes lingering on the stage. You point your eyes along the line of his gaze and see a worn acoustic guitar sitting on a stand right at the edge of the velvet curtains that lead to the back room. “Hey, Mel,” She looks up from the glasses she’s cleaning as Eddie gestures over to it.  

“Go for it, Eddie, but you know the rules,” She advises. Eddie scoffs, his voice lilting slightly with drink. 

“Like I would ever break an instrument, Melanie. It’s like you don’t even know me!” She gives a little laugh. 

“No, no. I distinctly remember a certain night in ‘88 where you just had to be a Pete Townshend wannabe.” Eddie opens his mouth to object, but doesn’t, thinking back. 

“Okay, well that was one time.” He relents. Both you and Mel laugh, and Eddie rolls his eyes and retrieves the guitar from the stage. He brings it back to the seat next to you and plucks at the strings, turning the tuning keys when there’s a sour note. Finally, when the sound is back in tune, he beings to play. 

It’s nothing fancy, and nothing like you’ve ever heard him play before. It’s softer, more ballad than banger. He hums along with a melody you’ve never heard and smile. It’s been close to six years since you’ve heard him play. It’s like a warm hug.  

“Let me see your heart work, heart work. Show me what your heart’s worth, heart’s worth. Even when the heart’s hurt, heart’s hurt, let me see it. Baby, let me see it. I know, it’s hard for you to know that I hold the high card. When it comes to you and I, first, let me see your heart work, heart work.” Eddie strums a few more chords and ends with a flourish, a small smile pulling the corner of his lips. You and Mel clap enthusiastically as Eddie sets the guitar down, looking down sheepishly at his talented hands. 

“Is that new?” You ask, your eyes bright with admiration. Eddie shakes his head, looking back up at you. 

“Nah, I wrote that a couple years ago. I couldn’t finish it, though. The inspiration ran dry.”  

You give a quirk of your mouth in sympathy. “Well, it’s great. I love it,” Eddie smiles at you and gives a flourish of his hand. 

“Well, thank you, my lady. If you like it, then it was worth it,” Eddie put his hand over his heart as he says it, his eyes gazing gently into yours. Your heart skips a beat at that, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too widely. You’re a little afraid in your inebriated state you’ll let something slip and completely ruin everything. The last thing you’d ever want is for Eddie to push you away over some stupid feelings. 

After a couple more drinks and some bar food, you and Eddie wobble your way back to your apartment, leaning on each other and laughing when you stumble. You have to work together to get up the stairs, watching where you put your feet intently on your way to the door to your apartment. A few steps away from your door, Eddie trips, falling into the wall, pulling you with him. You laugh together, both of your eyes tearing as you try to calm yourselves and stabilize. As the laughter wanes, Eddie lets out a long breath.  

“Jesus Christ, it’s been a while since I’ve been this tipsy,” he muses, the arm lightly slung around your waist tightening just a touch. You hope Eddie thinks the blush is from your drunkenness as you realize your closeness. You can smell the whiskey on his breath as it fans over your face. He’s only inches away. 

“Me too,” you reply. You didn’t really party in college. You’d go to the occasional frat party for free booze on a bad day, but nothing crazy. As you try to pull Eddie with you to stand, you stumble on one of his legs and loose your footing, falling back into his chest. “Damn, we’re bad at this...” You give a giggle to try to keep your heart at bay.  

Eddie shrugs. “Well, we made it this far, we can’t be that bad.” He looks down at you, the smile on his face finally reaching his eyes again. It sends a warmth through you almost as strong as the alcohol as you mirror his smile, just happy you could help him feel a bit better. “You know, Y/N,” he says. You look up at him with a noise of acknowledgment. You feel the arm around your waist tighten again, and the breath you let out comes involuntarily. You feel warmth spread through your body as you wait for him to finish speaking, praying silently he says what you wish he would. “you’re probably, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he admits.  

It feels like your heart is about to burst right out of your chest. You bite the inside of your lip and smile, feeling like you could probably fly if you really tried. “Well, you’re probably the best thing that’s happened to me, too, so...” You trail off, your eyes flitting down. The silence is thick. Your thoughts are racing about every scenario that could possibly play out right now, and then, it happens. 

Eddie lifts your chin with his thumb, letting it smooth over the soft skin of your bottom lip. You don’t say anything, you just look between his eyes and his lips, your breath coming a bit faster with anticipation. Without another moment, you feel Eddie’s lips connect with yours, and your eyes flutter shut. His hand moves to your hair, his fingers softly carding through as your lips move together. Without thinking, your tongue moves to graze his lip, and he reciprocates, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. You both start shuffling toward your door, just a couple of feet away, and you let out a small noise as Eddie begins to travel down to your neck as you fiddle with your keys. You finally get the door open, and you and Eddie rush inside, Eddie pushing you up against the door as you close it behind you.  

His hands move just under the hem of your shirt, and you feel the rough pads of his fingertips against your smooth skin, making you tighten your grip on his hair, just a touch. This seems to snap Eddie out of whatever has come over him, and he pulls away suddenly. Your eyes shoot open in surprise, and you’re left panting in front of him, looking down sheepishly when you see his face. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know... I don’t know what happened.” You feel like you’re about to cry as a pit forms in your stomach. It’s like your worst nightmare come true. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask, your voice thick. Eddie’s brows knit together in sympathy as he shakes his head furiously. 

“No, no, of course not. It’s me! I shouldn’t have... I think I should go.” He makes a move toward the doorknob, but you stop him, pushing your hands to his chest.  

“I am not letting you drive home. You’re drunk.” You demand, letting out a pained breath as tears prick the corners of your eyes.  

Eddie puts his hands over yours, gently lifting them and moving you out of the way. “I promise I’m not gonna drive. I’ll just walk until I sober up. I promise, Y/N.” You avoid looking at him directly, but his eyes search your face soft and pleading. You flick your eyes up, and give the tiniest nod, letting your hands drop. Eddie walks past and lets himself out as the first tears fall, and as you hear his shoes pounding down the stairs, you find yourself walking out behind him, calling to him down in the parking lot.  

“Eddie! Eddie, wait! Please, don’t go!” He keeps his head down and keeps walking. Past his car and down to the sidewalk, and finally out of view as he rounds the corner. You stand and watch the cars go by for a few minutes, hot tears rolling down your face. 

Finally, you turn and walk back to your apartment, slamming the door behind you with frustrated fervor. You fall onto your couch and clutch a pillow tight to your chest, screaming into it to find some release, your sobs increasing in intensity. After a while, as your sobs turn to shudders, you find yourself staring out the window, watching the parking lot to make sure Eddie doesn’t come back for his car for a while. You doubt he’ll leave it here tonight. The least you can do is try to make sure he’s sober before he gets behind the wheel.  

You fall asleep before you see him come back. 

@corrodedcoffincumslut @haylaansmi @bebe07011

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie the freak munson #eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #dustin stranger things #slow burn #mutual pining

[artemismoorea03]

Building Trust (Chirp AU)

MY TURN TO TALK HI GUUUUYYSSS aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY SHIT MY INBOX HAS BEEN EXPLODING LATELTY W H A T . HOW DID WHATAMSDREP IJTRYTHMKL,JHGFDS ONE IM SUPER HONORED TO BE WORKING WITH ARTEMIS ON THIS FIC MAN I JUST. . .. . Y E AH THIER SO COOL EVERYONE.

TWO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE COMMENTS AND KUDOS AND STUFF. IF YOU LIKE THISS STUFF YOU SHOULD CHECK OUT OUR SOLO FIC SERIES TANGLED STAR AND THE MONKIES DESERVE BETTER .

Anyways thank you guys so much for all the love we both really appreciate it and love reading ur comments. Im sitting here at 2am writing this and i already know by the time i wake up yall are gonna be crowding up my inbox.

Again thank you all so much for the appreciation. Cant wait to share all artemis and i have planned :D Grabs Macaque and fucking squishes him WHO WANTS BLORBO CONTENT?!?!??!

Anyways lmao enjoy the chapter !!!

MK wasn’t sure what had happened that day with Macaque and Wukong but what he did know was that it was only the beginning of a lot of changes. Both personally and in his day-to-day life. For starters, he began to chirp at everything almost instinctively.

Stub his toe? Chirp.

Drop something on his foot? Chirp.

Get frustrated or overwhelmed? Chirp.

It got so frequent and often that the other people in his life even began to take notice and question it. Pigsy asked about it and was quick to understand that it was another ‘monkey thing’. Tang thought it was a new type of stim that he was adjusting too and said, ‘it probably feels nice and calming to let out all those frustrations and anxieties so you might be chirping more and more as a buildup of stress’ which made MK feel a bit better about chirping as much, but he still worried about the effect it could have on Macaque and Wukong if they were around.

Speaking of which, both of them were beginning to make appearances around the restaurant more and more since that day. Macaque was quick to check in on him first thing in the morning before MK even properly left his apartment, his shadow figure was standing in the hall of the restaurant. He never stepped out of his shadow, only asking if he was alright, how he was feeling, and checking to make sure his head wasn’t giving him any issues. Macaque would then vanish just as quickly as he showed up just for Wukong to show up a short time later asking the same questions.

Though Wukong had the added question of “ Any sign of that rat Macaque? ”

Something MK quickly decided to lie to his mentor about. He didn’t know what happened that day but did know that he hadn’t really seen his mentor looking that vicious before. He didn’t know if Wukong could tell he was lying but if he did notice he never pointed it out.  

This continued for about a week, getting visits from Macaque and Wukong every other day, though there was once where Macaque visited twice in a row just so he and Wukong started visiting on different days to avoid seeing one another. But each time something similar began to happen until a new pattern formed.

Macaque would stay in the shadows (more so under MK’s bed once he invited the demon into his apartment) and talked to him from under there while avoiding too much light as he talked to MK or just listened to MK ramble. He also occasionally slipped pieces of paper out of the bed that were recipes, notes and even a cut out ad from a magazine.

“What’s this for?” MK asked, looking at the ad. “ Hair-and-fur shampoo? That’s a thing?”

“Yep. It’s how Wukong keeps his hair all ‘ fabulous ’ or whatever.” He said sarcastically. “If the chirping has any implications of anything, bud, you might be changing. I’m not sure how or why, but if you are starting to change I’d look into getting some of that. Normal fur shampoo will destroy your hair and hair shampoo will make your fur sticky.”

“Oh, okay thanks… but what do you mean ‘changing’?”

“Well, think about it. Chirps are the first sounds a cub knows how to make when they’re born. Could be signs that you’re turning into a monkey. Though we probably can’t be sure until you start to chatter… or sprout a tail.” Macaque said, his glowing eyes looking towards the door. “Your dragon friend is here. Cya, bud.”

Then, like that, Macaque slipped out of sight as Mei walked into the room.

“Hey, monkey man~! Are you ready to dance until your feet fall off?!” She said, then looked at MK. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

“Huh? Oh! I dropped this.” He said, holding up the paper, “Then I sat down and started reading it.”

“What is it?” Mei walked over, looking down at it with a smirk. “ Hair-and-fur Shampoo ? Maybe you should buy some of that for Macaque. Who knows the last time he bathed.” She teased.

“Mei.” MK sighed, “You sound like Wukong.” He got up, putting the paper onto his bedside table.

“Hey, let’s keep the insults to a minimum now.” She said with a huff, “But seriously, what’s with that?”

“Uh… just started thinking, I guess. Since I started chirping I might be changing, so might as well be prepared.”

“Changing? Like what? Monkey puberty?”

MK shrugged, “Something like that. Now, let’s go before the arcade gets too crowded. I don’t want to stand in line forever.”

“Oh! Right! Leggo~” She said, taking his hand and pulling him out of the apartment.

The next day Wukong showed up in the restaurant itself.

“It always smells so good in here~” He said, sniffing the air as he sat at the stool.

“You sure have been showing up here a lot lately.” Pigsy commented, “Not that I don’t mind the business, I mean at least you pay.” He said, shooting a glare at Tang who seemed offended while MK chuckled. “Something going on?”

“Nah, just making sure Macaque keeps his grubby little hands off of you guys. I don’t know what he’s up to lately but if I show up here enough he’ll eventually get tired or face me himself. Either way, MK will be safer if I show myself sometimes.”

MK frowned, tightening his grip on the broom as he began to sweep again.

“I thought Macaque changed? Plus, he didn’t do any serious damage to MK, so… why are you out for blood, Monkey King?” Tang pointed out and Wukong frowned, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Macaque has ‘changed’ before.” Wukong said, quietly thanking Pigsy for the noodles and fruit dumplings in front of him. “I don’t want to think that this was like any of the other ‘changes’ but I can’t risk it, plus Macaque being near people - for any reason - is dangerous. For everybody involved.”

“You keep saying that, but what does that even mean?” MK asked, throwing his broom to the ground before he could even process that he was getting mad enough for this. “You say he’s ‘dangerous’ you say ‘he can’t be trusted’ but he saved me from you ! That’s enough for me! He saved me, helped me save you, and yes he did some bad things but he’s not a bad guy!”

Wukong tensed, looking back at him before he sighed. “Listen, bud. There’s a lot about Macaque that you don’t know-”

“THEN TELL ME!” MK said, stomping his foot with rage as the ground trembled slightly. “I don’t know anything about Macaque but I also don’t know anything about you! All I know about you, I read but I… I don’t know you Wukong.” He said, trembling as his eyes burned with frustrated tears. “I don’t know anything other than you picked an everyday, average, boring noodle delivery boy to be your successor…”

“Kid…” Pigsy began, walking around the counter. “Take a breath, you’re going to make yourself sick if you keep working yourself up.” He gently put his hand on MK’s shoulder.

“MK has a point.” Tang hummed, scratching his chin like an older gentleman would rub a beard. “All we know about the Six-Eared Macaque is some of his abilities, the Shadow Play stunt he pulled, and the way he helped us. But on a research standpoint, the Journey to The West only tells us that Macaque is one of four Celestial Primates and that he tried to use your appearance to seek out immortality. We also know that you killed him with your staff before reuniting your group and continuing your journey. Other than that one instance we have no idea what Macaque has done, and weighing the ‘good’ and ‘bads’ of the situation he’s helped more than harmed.”

Wukong popped a dumpling into his mouth, his tail swishing in a way that almost implied frustration like a cat read to pounce. “Well, there’s more to it than that. A lot more. But, no matter what that filthy monkey’s done… I have a promise to keep to him.”

“A promise?” Pigsy said as MK rubbed tears out of his eyes.

Wukong nodded, “Yeah, a promise. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you about why he’s dangerous but I promised Macaque that I wouldn’t mention it to anybody… though that was a long time ago. Before I killed him…” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, “But for respect to the Macaque of the past I’m going to keep my mouth shut. Sorry, bud…”

MK shook his head, “Whatever… I’m going on my break.” He said, his voice wavering as he walked out of the building.

MK stomped down the street, trying to calm his heart which was pounding so hard in his chest he felt dizzy. The world was so loud when he was this upset, it was like everybody in Megapolis had microphones and big speakers attached to their backs and were all screaming at the same time. It was loud, crowded, and overwhelming.

His hands found their way to his hair, pulling at the strands as he tried to distract himself from how busy his mind was becoming with each step.

‘ He promised Macaque not to say, that means he’s doing it for Macaque, but it’s also hurting Macaque! Shouldn’t a promise not count if the person you made that promise to is suffering?! ’ He thought, tugging his hair again. ‘ Macaque needs people too, and you keep chasing everybody away from him all for a promise? Unless that promise was to make sure he was alone forever I don’t think he should keep it, and even if it was… shouldn’t the ‘respect for the past Macaque’ carry on now? If the past Macaque is hurting like the Macaque in the present then we should help him. ’

Mk took a sharp breath in, the afternoon air filling his lungs and attempting to calm him. Yet that incessant pounding in his chest wouldn't cease.The pounding was beginning to hurt, his breathing was unsteady and his eyes blurred with tears threatening to fall. It was all so frustrating. Every time Wukong did this it was like…no matter how much they go through, how close they get Wukong just won't talk to him. First the Lady Bone Demon, then the Samadhi fire, and now this! Mk let their breath out and ungripped his hands. Letting go of his hair and letting his arms fall to his sides.

He tried to steady his breathing but it wouldn't work with him, the frustration and anger grew within him with every new thought crossing his mind. He wishes he was strong enough to face Monkey King and get him to tell him everything, with no lies or excuses. The complete and utter truth, yet that seems too hard for Monkey king to do.

Mk’s walk is blinded by his thoughts and the tears that drip onto the concrete. He doesn't really know where he’s going and he doesn't care much. He just keeps walking while his frustrated mind and pounding heart guide him through the city. When he finally stops it's because he can't walk anymore. His legs have become sore and his frustrations have become too much for him. He needs to sit down.

Mk raises his head to look for a seat and something calms in his when he notices Macaques dojo not too far from him. He doesn't know how he made it all the way here yet he doesn't seem to care. His legs move on their own, walking towards the dojo with every step becoming quicker by the second till he’s full-on sprinting towards the dojo. When he gets there he throws open the door and finds Macaque in the main training room.

He’s panting while standing in a fighting stance, he’s not wearing a shirt so he must have been solo training. Mk knows he doesn't look good or okay, he wishes the thoughts weren't so deafening so maybe he could have thought to wipe away the tears and snot. Breathe the red out of his cheeks and nose. Then walk into the dojo with his usual big bright smile so Macaque didn't have to deal with this. With him.

Mk doesn't realize he chokes on his breathing, little sobs that escape him as he tries to breathe normally again. So he definitely doesn't notice the sad chirp he makes and what it does to Macaque the moment he hears it.

He doesn't have to know anything wrong, he shouldn't have to burden himself with his issues, it's not his problem, Mk’s just too sensitive for his own good and gets too upset over every little thing. It's really pathetic and stupid an-.

Arms wrap around Mk and pull him into a warm embrace, Mk is quick to throw his arms around Macaque and sob into dark fur. Between sobs, sad chirps continue to escape his lips. He lets Macaque pick him up and carry him somewhere. He doesn't know exactly where since dark fur covers his eyes as he continues to cry out his overwhelming frustrations. He’s suddenly set down in the middle of something familiar and soft. Mk opens his eyes and recognizes the familiar blankets and pillows beneath him.

It's the nest he and Macaque made the first time Mk had started chirping. He had kept it here? Mk’s hiccups and sobs crawled up his throat again as he was suddenly left alone without him ever noticing. He looks around the dim room for Macaque but doesn't see him anywhere, not in the room, not in the shadows. He’s nowhere to be found. What, did he just dump him in here to cry so he didn't bother Macaque with his annoying crying. He should have known, he should have known not to come and just cried it out on his own like he normally does. Instead of burdening other people with his issues. He should have known that he wouldn't get the comfort he sought for most.

He chirped again, this one louder than any he’s ever done before, then he sobbed and after another chirp. This repeating pattern of sobs and chirps as he curled up and hid his face into his knees is what causes something to drop outside. He grips onto his hair again, hands desperate to do anything while he sobs.

Suddenly something breaks closer to him and then hits the wall, before Mk can register what exactly that sound was he’s being pulled into those same warm warms and soft frantic apologies.

“I'm sorry, I'm so so so sorry.” Something else warm and fluffy wrapped over Mk’s back and then around Macaque.

“Im wasn't gonna be gone for long. I'm sorry, see I grabbed a blanket for you. I'm sorry.”  Macaque wrapped an arm around Mk’s back rubbing gentle circles and his other hand combed Mk’s hair.

“Shhh, it's okay, let it out, let it all out.”

Mk grabbed onto Macaque as if his life depended on it, letting out frustrations even he didn't think he was still holding.

First Wukong not talking to him, avoiding the subject like he always did, leading to the Lady Bone Demon disaster, his best friend almost burning alive within the samadhi fire, Wukong getting possessed. Anything and everything going wrong till their on their last legs, barely coming up with a plan to save the world from being completely destroyed.

It all weighed so heavy on him, sure everything is okay now…but it isn't. It's not okay, nothing is okay and it hasn't been for a long time.

So he cries, he cries and he cries till his throat is sore, till his arms become too stiff to hold on anymore and he leans limp against Macaque.  Face red and stained with tears. Macaque grabs something off to the side and brings it close to Mk’s face, he wipes away the snot and tears then throws the tissue in a random corner to deal with later. Mk isn't crying anymore, tears still build and fall down his face but he can't bring himself to care. He’s too tired to care at all over something as small as a tear.

Mk blinks and looks around, Macaque's house is the same as ever, he doesn’t know if that's a good or bad thing. The nest is mostly the same, a few pillows in different places but that's the only difference. Mk wonders for a moment if Macaque’s been sleeping in the nest since they made it, if it's still here then it must be being used. Right? Mk hums to himself with that thought and looks at Macaque. He can't really see his face since he’s leaning against his chest, but because of the angle, he notices scar’s on Macaque's chest. Weirdly placed scars that seem familiar but Mk cant-

Oh.

“Macaque?” Mk croaks, his voice sore and quiet due to all his crying.

“Hmm, yes? Do you need some water, another blanket?”

“Your trans?” Mk asks, looking up at macaque now, still leaning against him.

Macaque stared down at Mk, taking a breath in before answering. “...yeah,” he says, tightening his hold on Mk just slightly. Mk hums, putting his head back down.

“Me too.” he yawns, fighting the urge to let his eyes close.

“Really?” Macaque asks gently, combing through Mk’s now untangled hair. It wasn't much of a real question as it was to keep Mk distracted. Macaque had his suspicions but didn't comment on it. Felt it best not too.

“Mhm,” Mk hums, relaxing into the touch on his scalp. Something about the gentle caresses through his hair is just so…relaxing. So comforting. More so than any other form of comfort he’s experienced. It's soothing enough to just, fall asleep.

“Mei…Mei helped me get binders…and” Mk yawns “cut my hair….”

“I think you make a fine young man Mk.” Macaque hums, resting his head onto Mk’s head.

Mk sighs and finally closes his eyes “hmm, thanks…Momma.”

Macaque’s breath hitches, his fingers in Mk’s hair pauses and his tail lightly thumps against the floor.

“M…Mk?”

Mk deosnt reply.

“Kid?”

Mk breathes slowly and gently against his chest.

Macaque resumes his combing, letting his cub sleep. He needs the rest after crying that much. He can't bring himself to wake him up just to….

Momma

Macaque breathes, shaken and unsteady. His head still atop Mk’s. he doesn't know what to do when his heart leaps and something unfamiliar and scary builds in his chest. Yet it doesn't hurt, it doesn't make him cry. It's warm and protective. So he lets the feeling stay as he holds Mk against him. And with a sigh, he closes his eyes and lets himself rest.

Macaque stays there for a moment, not wanting to move MK from where he was clearly comfortable but after what happened last time MK was here he wasn't so sure. So after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed MK’s phone, but this time he didn’t bother just texting Pigsy or even calling him. Instead, he sent Pigsy’s contact to his own phone, then used his phone to call the restaurant.

“ Pigsy’s Noodles, home to the world's longest noodle. We’re not currently doing take-out orders but pick-ups are available. ” Pigsy’s voice said and Macaque hesitated.

“Pigsy, it’s Macaque. Don’t say anything, please, I know Wukong is there.”

A bit of silence, “ I see, how can I help you? ” Pigsy asked and Macaque let out a relieved sigh.

“MK just showed up at my place crying his eyes out. I don’t know what happened but I can guess… I just didn’t want you guys to worry. He’s with me, he’s safe, he’s just sleeping.”

“ Got it. Alright then. ”

“Do you want me to bring him back? I can take him to his apartment after Wukong leaves.”

More silence before Pigsy let out a sound that almost sounded like a sigh of acceptance. “ You know what, I don’t think we’re interested tonight. How about you keep the delivery at your warehouse tonight and drop it off tomorrow? I’m not sure we have the room in storage for it. ”

Macaque felt his eyes start to burn with tears as his tail flicked slightly. “Really?”

“ Yeah, why not. Other than a few bruised veggies I’ve never had any issues with your company. Just know that I’ll be keeping my eye on you and I’ll be sure to check the goods for bruises and damages upon drop off. Understood? ”

“I understand. Thank you, Pigsy… thank you.”

“ Don’t thank me. Enjoy your day off. ” Pigsy said then hung up.

Macaque looked at his phone before he put it down and relaxed.

Pigsy trusted him? After everything he’d done, Pigsy still trusted him? It was amazing and made his chest feel tight. Pigsy trusted him with MK, and he trusted him enough with him that he was letting MK stay the night. Though this did come with a bit of preparation.

Moving slowly he formed a clone to take his spot as MK’s pillow, continuing the pattern of hair petting that Macaque had been doing before Macaque left the room. He went to a more lofted area where his hammock was spread out and his clothes were discarded all around the room. He scrunched his nose, going towards the wardrobe as his tail swished. He didn’t have a lot of clean clothes left but he had a long-sleeved red shirt and black sweatpants with a blue and black “RavenClaw” patch on the left thigh.

‘ They’re all I’ve got to work with so he can use these. I just hope they’re not too big. ’ He thought, grabbing them both and taking it to the nest. He then put the clothes down on the corner of the nest, checking on the clone who gave a smile and a thumbs up telling Macaque that he can keep doing what he was doing.

Macaque smiled softly walking back into the main part as his tail swished.

‘ Now… dinner. What do kids eat? Noodles? It's too risky with Wukong there. Uh… maybe I have something ?” He thought, walking over to his cupboards.

Moldy bread, soggy old crackers, rice that had been gotten into by mice (gross), the milk could have been categorized as its own ecosystem just by looking at it through the carton, and there was something growing in a tupperware at the back of the fridge. Macaque’s ears drooped slightly, as he began to dump all of the food into the trash. One trash bag turned into two, then three. Finally, all that was left was canned soups that expired nearly a year prior. Hell, there was even a can that expired 5 years ago.

‘ What is this my emotional support can of soup? Why did I bring this everywhere with me? ’ He thought, flicking his tail with annoyance as he held it over the trash bag. ‘ It’s probably still good though. ’ He decided, putting it back in the cupboard.

Once the cupboards and fridge were clear of old and rotten food he took the bags out towards the alleyway dumpster. He then got to work on clearing the counter of old, broken, moldy, or plastic/paper dishes were either thrown away or put in the sink to be washed.

‘ When was the last time I cleaned? Why am I cleaning now? I guess it’s a good idea, MK could get sick if I don’t. I need to make sure the dojo is at least safe for him to walk through and stuff. ’ He thought, tying off another bag once it was full.

He continued cleaning the dojo, little by little making mental notes about broken glass, broken pieces of floor, and anything that was growing in corners. The longer he worked the more comfortable got until finally, he reached a point of comfort in the situation that he even began to sing and hum to himself.

Songs from musicals, old songs he’d caught others singing or new songs he’d heard over the radio. It didn’t matter, he sang whatever came to mind as he cleaned.

The dojo - for the first time since he trained MK - felt light and warm. A new kind of safety, comfort, and joy seemed to flow through the broken windows and empty halls. But why couldn’t he have done this when MK wasn’t here? Why could he only do it now that MK was sleeping in the other room? It didn’t make sense but honestly, Macaque didn’t need it to make sense.

Because it felt right.

It felt safe .

‘ Mama… ’ He thought again, ‘ I think I could get used to that… ’

When MK woke up it was to the sound of singing from another room. He blinked open his eyes, whimpering at the tightness in his chest where his binder sat as he sat up and rubbed his ribs. He then went to speak to Macaque who was now sitting behind him just to pale slightly when he realized by the slightly off appearance that it was a clone.

“Macaque?” He asked hesitantly as the clone picked up some clothes from the edge of the nest and held it out to him. The clone then tapped his shoulder where the binder straps sat. “You want me to change?”

The clone nodded.

‘ Macaque’s clones are strange… they’re not like mine but they’re not like Wukongs. It’s weird. ’

MK grabbed the clothes then got up as the clone dropped into the shadows and slipped out of the room without saying a word. MK then shook his head, pulling off his shirt before putting it on the nest. He then rolled up the binder slightly, slipping his thumbs under the shoulder straps as he pulled it up then over his head. The shirt that had been given to him was a bit dusty but not unbearably so and thick enough to hide himself. He shook the dust out of it, before pulling it on, the large shirt going down to his upper thighs making him feel like a little kid in his dad’s shirt. It was fun! He then pulled off his jeans, replacing it with RavenClaw pajama bottoms.

‘ RavenClaw, huh? ’ He thought, tying the strings so that they were snug around his waist. The only problem was that the pants had a small hole in the back for Macaque’s tail, but at least the shirt covered the hole. ‘ This is nice… but why? ’ He thought, picking up his phone as he looked at the messages he’d received since falling asleep.

Wukong had sent; Sorry, bud. We’ll talk about it someday, I promise. I hope you’re not too mad. Please be safe.

The message had hurt a bit, but knowing that it was as close to an answer as he was going to get for a while he just let out a sigh and went to the other message he’d gotten.

Pigsy had said; Told the monkey to watch after you tonight, that being said your window is unlocked if you want to come home. Take care of yourself, kiddo. We’ll see you tomorrow.

MK smiled, that explained some things at least. If Macaque was told to let him stay then of course Macaque would try to find him something to sleep in. Though, that didn’t tell him what the singing was about.

Walking towards the door he slowly peeked out and into the main area of the dojo. To his surprise it was clean. Something that MK hadn’t seen since he had been training with Macaque. Though there was something even more surprising and that was the fact that Macaque was the one singing as he swept the floors. He looked and sounded so happy.

‘ Did he want a sleepover that badly? ’ MK thought, stepping the rest of the way out. “M-Macaque?”

Macaque quickly turned, then cleared his throat. “O-oh! Hey, bud. How’d you sleep?” He asked, looking a bit sheepish.

“Good, how long was I out?”

“Uh, about an hour or two? How do the clothes fit?”

“They’re a bit big, but they’re cozy.” MK said, gently flapping the sleeves of the shirt as they fell over his hands.

To both the surprise of MK and Macaque the dark-furred monkey let out a soft almost purring-like noise before he coughed into his fist.

“Great! Uh, so I don’t have a lot of things to eat so I hope you can at least tolerate some of this canned stuff?”

MK looked at the options, eventually picking up one of the cans. “I’ll try this one. Pigsy spoils me quite a bit so I don’t eat a lot of canned things.” He laughed.

“That’s good. Canned shit isn’t good for people to eat all the time.” Macaque said, grabbing a can and opening it with the can opener before gently taking MK’s can and popping it open too. He then poured the contents of MK’s can into a pot and put it on the stove while he just grabbed a fork and began to eat straight out of the can.

“You’ve done a lot of cleaning, it looks really good.” MK said, watching as Macaque’s tail flicked at the praise.

“Yeah? Don’t know what got into me if I’m being honest. Just kinda started and didn’t stop, y’know?”

MK nodded, “Yeah, I get it. You should have woken me up though, I could have helped.”

“No way, cub. You’re a guest, you don’t get to clean.” He said, stirring the pot for a moment. “So… wanna talk about what made you so sad?”

MK looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… was arguing with Wukong. It was dumb and I lost my temper so I stormed off like a child.”

Macaque shook his head, “Cub, you are a child, that doesn’t mean that you’re acting childish. You were hurt, mad, and sad. Your fight-or-flight kicked in and you chose flight until you could calm down. Knowing when to walk away, especially when you’re pissed , is important.” He said, booping MK’s nose with his tail, making MK giggle.

“Really?”

“Of course, bud. If you never knew when to walk away from an argument then every little squabble would turn into a fight to the death. It’s just as important to know when to walk away as it is to know when to keep on fighting.” Macaque said, pulling the food off of the heat, pouring it into a bowl with a spoon that he sat at an island for MK to eat.

“But… I thought heroes were never supposed to back down from a fight?”

Macaque shook his head, “Nah, the real heroes are the ones who know which fights need to be fought to the end.” He said, taking another bite of his cold still-canned food.

MK nodded slowly, sitting at the island as he began to eat his food. “Macaque… why does Wukong keep saying you’re dangerous?”

He regretted asking the question as soon as it came out, watching the way the monkey bristled slightly then looked down as though avoiding the scolding of a parent.

“Because I am dangerous, MK. Sun Wukong… he’s right about that. I’ve hurt people, a lot of people including him… especially him. Wukong isn’t wrong for trying to keep me away from you and honestly if I could stand breaking your heart even just a little I would be staying away from you because I know that Wukong is keeping his eyes on me. He doesn’t trust me, and he has no reason to.”

“But you’re different, you’ve changed! You’re-”

Macaque put his can in the trash before he walked over, gently taking MK’s face between his hands. “I’m dangerous. Even if I’m not a danger to you at this moment… I’m still dangerous.”

“But how ? What aren’t you guys telling me? Why do you guys insist on keeping secrets from me to protect me but don’t explain when they hurt me?” He asked, not as angry as before but still just as hurt.

Macaque’s golden eyes scanned MK’s face sadly, “Okay… I’ll tell you a little, but I can’t tell you the full thing. Okay?”

MK relaxed, he would finally get answers? Really? Or was this just another trick? Gods, he was sick of tricks.

“Remember that story I told you; the one about the Hero and the Warrior?”

MK shuddered and Macaque shrunk down on himself slightly.

“I’m going to take that as ‘I wish I could forget’.” He said sadly, fixing MK’s hair before he jumped up onto the counter and sat down. Macaque rubbed his hands on his face, “Well, do you remember the part where I mentioned ‘the sun and the moon’?”

“I think so?”

“‘ The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light a protective glow shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth’ .” He said and MK frowned, wondering where this was going. “It wasn’t all… metaphorical. I mean, most of it was but… not all of it. See… the moon itself has no light of its own. It doesn’t glow or shine at all without the help of the sun. But if the sun left the moon could - hypothetically - get other light from nearby stars. Does that make sense?”

“Not at all.” MK said as Macaque let out a soft laugh.

“Alright, more direct then. My powers are weak, bud. I have very little power compared to Monkey King - to you - but I am able to absorb access powers that more powerful Demons and Celestials put out in their day-to-day lives. It’s how I was able to do all that stuff with your powers the first time we met. But that was ‘the moon’ forcefully stealing light from the ‘sun’ and the ‘stars’.”

‘OH, I’M A STAR! Okay, things might make a bit more sense now.’ He thought but kept listening.

“With more casual and comfortable friendships and relationships and whatever I can gain power even faster. But… at a cost.”

“What kind of cost?” MK asked.

Macaque hesitated, ruffling his hair. “Story for another day, bud. Eat your food, that stuff tastes terrible cold.”

“Oh, okay… Wait, then why did you eat yours cold?!”

Macaque laughed, “Lack of self-preservation, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m immediately worried about it.” MK said with a soft scowl.

Macaque placed his hand on Mk’s face and gently pushed, chuckling at the way Mk’s face scrunches up and he stumbles in place. “Don't.” Macaque removes his hand and jumps off of the table. Then sets his empty bowl into the sink.

“I will.” Mk retorts immediately, staring down Macaque.

Macaque takes the empty dish from Mk’s hands and boops his nose, again chuckling as his face scrunches up cutely.

“ Ack, stop doing that!” Mk demands, watching Macaque put the dish in the sink.

“Hmmm.” Macaque approaches Mk.

“No,” he says, booping Mk’s nose again and earning the same reaction. Mk shakes his head and glares up at Macaque with no real venom while Macaque just smirks. Macaque reaches up to do it again but is stopped when Mk grabs his arm and then slaps his hand onto Macaque's face. Macaque lets out a surprised noise and brings up his other hand to grab at Mk but he lets go of Macaque and runs off laughing.

Macaque huffs and chases him, back into the room where the nest is. He vaguely recognizes how broken his doorknob is. Look he’s not accountable for the things his instincts do, he heard a crying baby. He's gonna break anything and anyone to get to the crying baby.

Suddenly Macaque is attacked by a heavy pillow hitting him in the face

“Hah payback!” Mk yells pointing at Macaque with another pillow in hand. Macaque pulls his pillow down and raises an eyebrow at Mk’s giggling shenanigans.

“Ooooh you do not want to go down that route kiddo,,”  Macaque says playfully. Mk’s glare on Macaque hardens.

“Bring it. Old man. ”

Macaque gasps with half fake offense “you little-” Macaque leaps towards Mk and Mk yelps, jumping away from Macaque with his pillow.

Macaque is quick to drop the pillow and chase Mk on all fours, jumping on different tables and chairs as Mk continues to scream and run through the room. Dodging Macaques every ‘attack’. Till finnaly Mk trips on a blanket and Macaque leaps to grab Mk, they both yell and tumble into the nest laughing. They end up in the middle of the nest, Mk laying on Macaques side and both of them laughing till their lungs hurt.  

“Haha…who’s old now… squirt, ” Macaque said between laughs and breathes.

“Still you.” Mk laughed out.

Macaque grabbed Mk by the middle with a fake roar and pulled him close. Again Mk yelped and faked an attempt at escaping.

“Nooooooooo!” Mk laughed while Macaque dug his head into Mk’s head.

“Yeeeeeeessss!” Macaque grumbled.

Macaque smiled, loosening his grip on MK slightly, before running his finger through the kid's hair once again. “As fun as all of this is, if you keep picking a fight I will have no choice but to bring out the big guns and break my promise to your father~”

“Big guns?” MK tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you keep calling me old, I’ll have to do this. ” He grabbed MK’s headband, using it to turn his head to the side before he blew a raspberry on MK’s cheek.

MK let out a shriek, kicking his feet as he laughed, grabbing at his headband. “Stop! Mercy! You win!”

“Oh? Are you sure? Because there’s a lot more where that came from, I’ve been saving them.” Macaque said as MK chuckled.

“I’m sure.” MK said, “You’re not old.”

“Good.” Macaque let him go and relaxed.

“You’re ancient. ”

“OI!” He said, grabbing MK again. But this time he rolled Mk over forcefully and pulled him into his chest. The little cub squirmed a bit but Macaque didn't let go, even as his tail grabbed the nearby blanket and pulled it over them. Mk finally freed his head from Macaque's hold and took a deep dramatic breath in.    

“You stink.”

“What?”

“Your old and your stinky,” Mk said digging his face back into Macaques fur.

“Am I really?” Macaque chuckles lightly.

“Yeah and I bet you snore like an old man, an old stinky man.”

“Your so kind.” Macaque sighs.

“Mhm, I know.” Mk smiles, wrapping his arms around Macaque. Macaque does the same, then commands a shadow to reach up and flip the light switch. Turning off all the lights of the room.

The moonlight is now the only thing illuminating the room. Macaque traces its light with his eyes and how it leaks through his windows and over the various pieces of furniture and blankets till it reaches Mk. His cub really is adorable, especially with the light illuminating his features. If Mk didn't look like he was trying to fall asleep Macaque would pinch his cheek right here and now bit decided against it to let him sleep peacefully.

Macaque wrapped his tail around Mk and sighed, again noting how the moonlight covers his cub. His cub, normally illuminated by the sun’s blinding light. Now here resting within the moon's dim lights, happily content and comfortable.

Macaque only wishes he could experience this more often.

Mk slurps loud and obnoxiously on his cheese tea, then munches down on a fresh and hot croissant.

Macaque had nothing good or fresh to eat for breakfast, he should probably get some for the next time Mk comes around. As long as other food things. He’d sure like to try some new snacks along with making sure Mk was fed well whenever he was around. But since he didn't have any good things to eat this morning he decided to buy himself and Mk some breakfast. Mk had insisted on cheese tea while the croissant was Macaque's idea.

“Thanks, Macaque!” Mk said, muffled by the croissant stuffed into his mouth.

“Sure.” Macaque tapped Mk’s back with his hand, gently pushing him “but maybe you should try taking smaller bites”

Mk leans over due to the push and his face scrunches up, he then straightens up and with his eyes closed tightly he swallows the entirety of the croissant. Macaque silently prepares himself to care for a choking cub, he’s sure that after this Pigsy is going to beat him away with a wooden spoon the next time he comes around. Although it seems Mk’s just fine as he throws a thumbs up with his free hand

“Hah, did it!”

“Why?” Macaque asks. Mk hums

“Because I can!’ He decides and Macaque chuckles to himself while shaking his head.

When they get to the noodle shop Macaque tenses, searching for any sign of Wukong yet he finds none, and most-not all he’d be a fool if he let down his guard tension falls.

“Hi, Pigsy!” Mk yells out, waving to the pig demon at the front of his shop messing with the open sign.

“Hey kid” Pigsy waves. Mk runs over to Pigsy leaving Macaques's side empty. As he approaches the two talking he takes notice of how empty it feels without Mk beside him, his tail gently grazing the ground where Mk once stood beside him. He dug his hands into his pockets and looked around the street. Trying not to feel awkward as Mk and Pigsy talked.

That is until the pig approached him with a white bag in his hand.

“Good job with the kid,” He said, holding the bag on his side. Macaque nodded.

“Y-yeah, anytime…for him,” Macaque said, watching as Pigsy stared him down. He almost felt like he was on the chopping block as Pigsy searched for something within him. Whatever he was searching for he seemed to find because the next thing he knows Pigsy is shoving the white bag into his arms.

“The kid likes you, I don't know why…I don't know what he sees in you but it's something…”

Macaque notes how the bag is warm with a container inside.

“Whatever it is for his sake I hope he’s right…about you”

Macaque sniffs the air and realizes its noodles, fresh and warm noodles.

“Don't disappoint him, okay,” Pigsy says. Letting Macaque grab the bag and removing his own arm from his chest to step back.

Macaque looks up from the bag and to Pigsy. Something clicks in him. Seeing Pigsy confront him while Mk stands a bit of a ways behind him. Just enough so that their conversation is private but Mk is still present. Pigsy cares for Mk just as much as Macaque does. Protective and warm. He wants to hold onto this feeling. He never wants to let it go. Not again. He can't ever let his light fade from his life again.

“Okay…”

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Hehehe i wrote the breakdown scene btw hehehhee If ur from my fics YOU KNOW THE DRILL LINE UP Kicks bucket TEARS GO IN HERE THANK YOU VERY MUCH. FOR COMPENSATION YOU GET A WEIGHTED BLANKET AND A HOT DRINK. Thank you so much for reading. See you guys next time!!! -Stella

(Stella is so awesome, if you haven't checked out their stuff you should. Their writing and art is just absolutely amazing! I also hope that these chapters help make up for the lack of chapters of Monkies Aren't Alright lately. I'm trying to give the Season 4 Specials/Season 4 to come out in English. But I'm still working on it, I promise :D) - Ari

#Chirp Au #lmk fanfic #lego monkie kid fanfic #Monkiebois #Momcaque