#he’s bending the pole in half

[kayla161]

the beatles rehearsing for their second christmas show that opened on todays date, 1964

those fuckers weren’t rehearsing they were just fannying abt

[unfriedough]

Hey sorry if your request aren’t open but I had a thought about Zuko x water tribe/bender reader!Like three years after the war he wants to propose to reader and So he ask Katara and Sokka about marriage traditions within the tribe and he carves a betrothal necklace for her?? And the readers reaction!! Thank you

An: HEY. Sorry this took like, so long I think you requested last summer, however I’ve kinda lost most of my determination to write and this account became more of a chore than what I had initially wanted. Either way, maybe somehow I’ll be able to be more consistent soon but I also don’t wanna make myself hate writing so :(

Thank you for requesting, I really do appreciate it, hope you enjoy :)

Zuko’s nose twitched as the cold nipped away at his extremities, huddled up in a few too many jackets. There’s a striking difference between cold and cold and right now he wished he was on fire.

Your gloved hand was intertwined with his as you lead him off of the fire nation ship and onto the white snow of the southern water tribe. This trip was planned as a way to visit Sokka and Katara, but Zuko had another plan in mind.

Finally, after three years of struggling to settle down, the fire people finally relaxed and he was able to make more time. In that time, he realized he’d wanted to marry you more than anything. So here he was, in a nation far too cold for someone like him, with a goal in mind.

He had exactly 5 days (and a half if you’re counting from now) to get ready a betrothal necklace. Why a necklace? Well, Zuko had watched you for days on end in the castle library, a book bigger than your head on the table being analysed by your eyes. You’d smile brightly when you locked eyes, and call him over. He’d sit next to you, shoulder to shoulder, attempting to read with you. The books were always about old water tribe traditions, tales, legends, history, everything of the sort. You’d wanted to stay connected to your culture and upbringing - it made you who you were today.

And so that brings you to today, here, the water tribe.

“Katara!” You squealed, running forward and pulling her into a hug. You two squeezed each other tightly, excited noises being expressed.

Zuko and Sokka nodded to each other, trying to be kinda nonchalant but Sokka couldn’t hold it much longer, he sprinted at Zuko and tackled him to the ground into an oh-so-warm hug. You laughed at the site, Katara too. Zuko felt a twinge of pink on his cheek, from the cold or embarrassment he couldn’t really tell, but he still wrapped his shaking arm around his buddy. After a few more ‘I missed you!’s and giggles, Zuko and Sokka got back up. Katara grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the village, you laughed the entire way, giddy from being back home here with your family. You threw a glance backwards at the fire lord, there was something very slightly off about the way he was smiling, you brushed it off as just the cold getting to him.

It was most definitely the cold getting to him.

Sokka led him to the ice on the outskirts of the village and brought some chairs along. They were gonna go fishing while they talked. As they both sat, another shiver ran up the poor fire bender’s back.

“How do you guys survive the cold?” He groaned.

Sokka chuckled, handing him a rod, pushing the bucket of bait closer to him, “You get used to it… I could ask you the same thing about the heat,”

“I’m a fire bender it’s in my blood,”

“Yeah well you learn a thing or two when your lovely sister starts learning how to bend and suddenly you’re always wet,” he cast the line, leaning back, putting one leg over the other.

“I guess,” he laughed.

They sat in a suffocating silence for a minute, Zuko just awkwardly holding the pole and Sokka staring into the sky.

“Are we going to address the camelephant in the room?”

Zuko looked to him from his peripheral, “I’m kinda nervous I guess, I don’t know what to do,”

Sokka sat up a little straighter, getting up to help Zuko with his fishing issues. He stood behind him and helped his arm into the correct place, slowly to be sure he understood.

“Just like fishing, you have to be precise and confident to get what you want, and if you cast your line just right, you’ll catch the fish,” he winked once the bob hit the water, stepping back to admire his own work.

“Not sure that’s the best metaphor,”

“Say you love it, he's been working on it ever since you wrote to him,” Katara rolled her eyes, holding your hand as you both struggled to not slip on the ice.

“KATARA.”

Zuko couldn't help but laugh, then he was met with the puzzled look on your face.

“I thought this was a surprise trip, when’d you write to them,” you tilted your head, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“…needed to make sure they were free,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That totally checks out,” you rolled your eyes, getting a serious case of FOMO.

Sokka coughed to try to clear the awkwardness, “So fishing…”

“What’re you trying to catch anyways?”

“Does it matter, it’s about the process YN get with the times,”

“Since when did you fish for fun?”

“Since now.”

“I thought you hated fishing,” you were all standing up by this point, including Sokka and Zuko.

“Only because Miss Katara always splashed me,”

“And I won’t hesitate to do it again!” She bent a small stream into his face, giggling when he stumbled back.

“Oh it’s on Katara,” he paused, “As soon as I get snow,” he waddled away to get to the snow on shore.

You laughed when the waterbender used more ice to cause him to slip.

“I’ll go help him up,” you laughed, moving towards him as he laid helplessly on the ice, not even bothering to get up anymore.

Zuko watched your figure, missing the way Katara turned to look at him.

“I think you should do it here,”

“What?”

“The proposal,”

“That’s not enough time, it’s barely enough for me to learn how to carve the necklace,”

“Lucky for you, Sokka’s pretty efficient with plans, he’s been plotting since you told him,”

The fire bender smiled, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “Okay, maybe, but how can I get started when she’s with us all the time?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her,” she smirked.

-

“Are you sure this is safe?” You shivered, standing in your bathing suit on top of a huge rock, below it freezing water.

“No!” Katara, “But let’s do it anyways,”

“I don’t know, what if I freeze?”

“Good thing we have a fire bender with us,” she pointed to Zuko, who was in the distance learning about what tools to carve and what stones to use, he’d settled on one that reminded him of your eyes, and the band matching the deep royal blue usually used. He wanted to alter the pattern as a way of commemorating both elements. Currently, he and Sokka were doodling designs on the snow with sticks.

“Look at those dorks, I wonder what they’re doing,”

“You know Sokka, they’re probably drawing,” she laughed nervously.

“Hmm, that kind of looks like a-“ you were cut off as she pushed you off of the rock. You shrieked as you first dropped, then as you got more air time you changed into a more streamlined position with your head downwards. Instant regret when you hit the water though.

You resurfaced, drenched and in pain from the cold. Your fingers felt like they were gonna fall off any second now. Before you got to dwell on it, Katara joined you, also screaming in fun-agony.

“WHY’D YOU PUSH ME?” You splashed her.

“You were talking for too long…” she giggled, going under and pulling you down.

You inhaled a large amount of air before going under, making sure to keep her under with you as well. After a few seconds of freezing cold, you resurfaced, feeling pain in all your joints from the water.

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” she shrugged, waterbending herself back up to the ledge so she could jump again, “But it sure is fun,”

Sokka and Zuko heard a splash in the distance.

“I think Katara is torturing your wife,”

“What?” he mumbled, looking at where you were very clearly lecturing her about something, “What’re they doing?”

“Ice bath, Katara tricked me into doing it once… I never fully recovered,”

Zuko chuckled, using his stick to doodle another design. Which he then stared at for a while.

“This is it.”

“Oh?” Sokka glanced at it, “It’s perfect.”

The men stared at each other proudly, as if they’ve just completed a super hard mission.

Immediately, Sokka took him inside a tent, quickly teaching him methods of carving with different tools. A few more splashes could be heard and you and Katara had fun.

“I wonder what he’s doing to Zuko,”

“Boy stuff,”

You furrowed your brows, “what does that even mean?”

After a lot of time (and a few cuts) Zuko finally had a necklace ready. Sure, it needed to be refined, but his hands were tired and shaky. Sokka patted him on the back, watching the fire bender weave the blue band into the loops.

What they failed to notice was you approaching, now covered in a warm coat.

“What’re y'all up to?” You breathed out, still cold but beginning to gain your senses.

Zuko panicked, hiding it under his leg. You looked at him weird.

By this time, Katara had joined the group, and behind her the sun fell into a pink and purple type hue. Zuko didn’t miss the way your breaths were so laboured, and he took it upon himself to lead you back to where Sokka said you two were staying. You changed into some clothes while he surveyed the room, moving around nervously.

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” you pulled a sweater over the thermal shirt, reaching over to grab an undercoat.

He walked up to you, fingers working shakily to button up the buttons. “Just cold,”

“No, the cold doesn’t make you avoid me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,”

“Really? It feels like Katara and Sokka are trying to keep us apart.” He grabbed another, heavier coat and draped it over your shoulder, you inserted your arms in the holes.

“I didn’t notice,”

“You’re lying,” you stepped back, putting your boots back on and tucking your pants into them.

He frowned, reaching out to you, but you stepped back.

“It’s weird, the letter thing as well- why didn’t you tell me you sent it to them? I thought it was last minute?”

“It was!”

“You’re lying again,” you frowned, folding your arms.

“I promise it’ll all make sense soon,”

“How soon? What’re you hiding?”

“I-“

“Actually. Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.” You huffed, storming out of the room, leaving a different kind of cold lingering.

Zuko sat down on the large bed, dropping his head into his hands. He sighed deeply, reaching over multiple layers of clothing to his pocket to pull out the carved stone. Truly, it was mediocre at best. And after this misunderstanding, the sinking feeling of impending rejection poisoned his thoughts. He couldn’t help but trace his finger over the patterns, wondering what could’ve been- he was half sure he was single now.

“I forgot-“ you gasped as you walked back in the room, catching a glimpse of the rock in his hand.

“Yn!” He quickly shoved it behind him.

“Zuko… what was that?”

“What was what?” He said, looking so suspicious it was stupid.

You took a few steps closer, inching towards him slowly, “In your hand,”

“My hand’s empty…”

“Liar…” you dragged on, standing right infront of him now.

“Zuko,”

“Yn,”

You tried pulling at his arms, but he wasn’t budging.

“Cut it out! What’s behind you?”

“Nothing!”

You sighed, walking away in defeat, just as he let his guard down, you pounced, having to grab it and rolling onto the bed. He barely had time to process it when your face immediately changed.

You sat up, moving on your knees towards him on the bed, patting his bicep, “Zuko light,”

The fire lord frowned, embarrassed that he was about to get rejected, although that’s no foreign feeling. A small, dancing red flame illuminated the carved necklace.

“It’s…” you covered your mouth with one hand, tears welling in your eyes.

“Tacky- I know, I just thought- you don’t have to do a-“

“Beautiful…” he glanced sideways at you, “Zuko…”

“This isn’t at all how I wanted this to go…” he sighed, dropping his head.

“No… probably not,” you sniffled, “but it was perfect,” you laughed, he chuckled as well.

He got up, lighting an oil lamp for better lighting. Zuko circled the bed and stood next to you, still nervous and fidgety.

“Yn,” he breathed out, shakily.

You nodded, glossy eyes meeting his.

“The years you’ve spent by my side, against me, with me- those have been the best years of my life. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly myself. I’ve never,” he swallowed harshly, “I’ve never felt more at home,” he paused again, looking up at the ceiling, “then when I’m with you.”

You let out a small noise of excitement, bouncing your legs.

“I’ve made so- so many mistakes in my life, every single day of it, but I think… I think letting you go would be my biggest mistake, Yn-“

“YES!!” You pounced on him, hugging him so tight as your heartbeats both skyrocketed.

You giggled as he looped the necklace around your neck, it was simple, and dainty, but most of all it was so Zuko. The more someone could stare at the imperfections in the craftsmanship, the more they’d love it. A man carved it with love and intention.

You held each other for a while, just swaying in the dimly lit room. You leaned back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Is this why we're here? You wanted to carve the necklace?”

“Yeah, pretty much, you ruined my plans though,”

“I did, didn't I?” You giggled.

“I had a lot planned for us, with the help of Sokka of course,”

“Ohh now that makes sense,”

“What makes sense,”

“Literally everything, you were being so weird,”

“I’m not great at keeping secrets,”

“Good, never keep one again,” you kissed his cheek.

“I suppose we should tell Katara and Sokka,”

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

And so, hand in hand, you walked out to the bonfire, where the siblings sat.

Sokka was so mad his plan foiled.

[strwbabydoll]

pairings: best friend!Harry x fem!reader

summary: Y/N's having a bad day and who better to help than her best friend

word count: 2.2k

authors note: hi hello!! here’s something that’s been sitting in my drafts for a whileeeee while i work on chapter three! :) hope you enjoy!!

TW: for a mention of self harm but the only thing she does is pinch her arms over and over again, please read with caution or don’t read if it triggers you or make you uncomfortable. i love you❤️

----

Y/N’s always been such a happy person, always there for all her friends, always having a smile on her face and making sure her friends are okay. She’s always been that one friend that no matter what time it is, she’ll always be there to lend a listening ear and provide the needed solace. 

She’s always been that friend that’ll give the ones she cares about the last of her anything, always willing to give the last of her money to help a friend in need, willing to give the clothes off her back if it was necessary. She’s just a giver by nature. She’s always been the friend to go to whenever you need advice, always taking care of her friends, giving them whatever’s needed. 

Because she’s grown to be able to mask her emotions, it’s hard to tell whenever she’s not able to fully give as much, whenever she starts feeling down and gets in her head. No one notices as she starts becoming quieter, smaller, less. 

She very rarely has bad days, her sunshine personality weeding its way through the dark clouds and allowing her to smile and laugh her way through the day. It’s easy to forget why her day was bad when she’s around friends, but it’s especially easy when she’s around him. Her best friend, her right hand man, her everything in a sense. 

Her and Harry had become friends when she stumbled into him and spilled her tea all over his cream flared pants and she over-apologized until he laughed it off and rubbed her head gently. After that, they became inseparable, always attached at the hip. They were close, close enough to where whenever they were out by themselves they were constantly asked how long they’ve been together, they were constantly mistaken for a long term couple. At the question, they’d both blush softly and deny the question by laughing and shaking their heads as they smile and say they’re just friends. 

They’ve always been just friends and neither have entertained the thought of becoming more, not seeing the point of appeasing everyone else as long as they were happy. He’s always noticing her, takes in the small details and keeps them all in a special folder in his brain and his heart. 

He notices how she’ll sway lightly in her seat whenever she’s happy, he notices how her nose scrunches whenever she genuinely laughs, he notices how she never leaves without a hug and ‘I love you’, how she puts her hand over a sharp corner when her friend bends down to get something, how she makes sure to never split the pole and to always give a little snack to any cat or dog she sees on the street. 

He also notices when she starts distancing herself in conversation, how her lip will quiver and her eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit when she’s upset but can’t sneak away, he notices that when she starts playing with her rings that means she’s in her head or she’s uncomfortable, he notices how her glossy eyes will lose the light in them whenever she’s having a bad day. He notices things that she doesn’t even notice in herself and he prides himself in knowing her so well. 

She’s his complete other half, his soulmate, he can’t imagine his life without her and refuses to even think about that. He can just feel whenever her energy shifts ever so slightly and he’s always been there to help her. 

But he knows that when she has the bad days she prefers to deal with it alone, she’ll start excusing herself from the friend group when she’s asked to hang out. Her most used excuse is she’s on her period and her cramps are just killing her, and he knows that’s when it’s bad, when her pain is at its worst and she can’t bother to attempt to mask. 

Her body aches, she can feel the pain rooting itself deep in her bones, she’s tense as her muscles scream at her. Her bloodshot eyes sting painfully as fat and heavy tears stream down her pink cheeks, her lips chapped no matter how many times she licks them. She can feel her head pounding and throbbing from how long she’s been crying, her throat sore and tight as she hiccups. 

Her arms are beginning to form a slight hue of red and she can feel bruises beginning to form as she pinches them quickly, trying to distract her mind from the intense feelings of her own emotions flooding through. The muscles in her stomach are tense and uncomfortable at the amount of heavy sobs and pants that flow through her body and out of her plump lips. 

She can’t remember what triggered all of this, her brain too fuzzy to even remember if she grabbed her list to ground her. As she cries and screams into the empty space, she can feel her lungs expand as she breathes, she can feel the light touch of her loose tank top brush lightly against her skin, she can feel the loose strands of hair brushing against the back of her neck. 

She feels as if she can’t breathe, it feels like her bedroom is caving in on her, the small room only seeming to grow smaller and smaller as her breath gets stronger and shaky. Her hand scrambles around her messy bed, searching for the list containing ways for her to calm down and a shaky sob racks through her body when she realizes she can’t find it. 

She closes her eyes tightly as she brings her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, burying her face into her legs she can’t help as she shakes her head. She doesn’t know how long this has been going on, how long she’s trapped herself in her room, but she hopes it’ll be over soon. 

She grabs her phone from her beside table and with shaky hands she unlocks it and clicks on her messages app. She quickly taps on the conversation she’s looking for and attempts to write out a message. 

——

Sweet Girl: H, can u come over please

She doesn’t have to wait long for a response from him as her phone dings a couple seconds later.

Haz: Of course sweet girl. Do you need/want me to bring anything for you? Some food maybe?

Sweet: Girl: if u want, just want you rn

Haz: Ok bug. I’m gonna get us some food and then I’ll be over. See you soon x

Sweet Girl: kay, thanks H. love u

Haz: I love you sweet girl, just try to breathe for me, I won’t be too long and I’ll use my key so you don’t have to get up. 

——-

As she tries to focus on her breathing, attempting to take slow and deep breaths, she wipes her face to clear away the tears on her cheeks. She sniffles and wraps her arms around her torso gently as she lies in her bed, the soft material and warmth from her cover enveloping her and makes her smile softly. 

She’s only able to enjoy a couple moments of peace before another painful sobs rack through her body. She sobs into her pillow, the pain searing through her body as the tears stain her cheeks.

She hates this, she hates not knowing why she’s so upset, she hates everything to do with her bad days. She wishes she was able to ask for the help she needs but she’s so much of a people pleaser, she can’t bear the thought of not being there for her friends when they need her. 

A soft knock at her bedroom door jolts her gently from her thoughts. She quickly tries to wipe her face from any tears and snot streaks before telling the person to come on. Her door squeaks softly as it opens and his face appears in the small space. 

As he walks into her small bedroom, he smiles sadly at her in which she returns the favor. Her eyes light up just a bit when she spots the brown takeout bag with her favorite Mexican restaurant logo printed onto the cheap plastic. He leans down and kisses her forehead before sitting down on her bed gently and placing the bag next to him. 

“Hi” she whispers and he smiles 

“Hi, feelin’ any better?” He says and she nods 

“Not really, thank you for uh coming over” she says as she leans her head on his shoulder.

He hums softly as he wraps one arm around her shoulder and squeezes once. 

“Y’know m’always gonna come. You don’t have to thank me. Wanna talk about it?” He asks gently and she shakes her head lightly.

“Not much to talk about, dunno why it happens. I just get really sad out of nowhere.” She closes her eyes gently as she relaxes into his hold. 

He nods in response and they sit in silence for a couple minutes before he reaches over to the bag and holds it out to her. 

“Here, you should eat it before it gets cold.” She smiles in response as he nudges her hand with the bag. She thanks him quietly as she grabs the bag from him, smiling bashfully she begins to open the bag and the styrofoam box inside. 

As she eats in silence, she’s not able to eat as much as she normally would. She takes a couple decent sized bites before she begins to move the food around. 

“M’gonna put this in the fridge, I’ll be back.” He says quietly as he makes a way to grab the box, she sighs softly before looking at him. 

“Sorry..” he shakes his head in return.

“Don’t be sorry lovie. M’proud of you for eating as much as you did.” He says before walking out and setting the box in the fridge before walking back to her room. 

As he comes back into her room, he hums a soft song as he makes his way to her bed and wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly. He kisses the top of her head before whispering into her ear. 

“M’so sorry you’re feelin’ like this lovie. But you’re not alone okay? You have so many people who care for you and love you.” He can hear her sniffle softly and be squeezes her once. 

“Not your fault Haz. I know I’m not alone but I don’t wanna burden anyone.” She says and he shakes his head.

“You’re never gonna be a burden. We want you to be happy, be okay, we want you to not have to suffer alone. All of us worry about you, it’s okay to ask for help, angel. We’re not gonna judge you.” Her quiet tears slowly become louder as he speaks, she shakes her head and he rubs her back.

“It’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be in pain. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to accept the love you give out, angel. You give and give and give to everyone else, and I know you don’t give yourself the love and energy you deserve.. let us love you how you love us, let us help you. Let us care for you. We’re not gonna judge you sweet girl.” He says and she grabs his t-shirt tightly before sobbing into his chest. 

She can feel the tears streaming down her cheeks and wetting his shirt as she cries into him. She can’t find it to be embarrassed at how loud she’s being and how she looks, not with his hand rubbing small circles on her back and how his words have sparked a sense of warmth in her stomach. She can feel it fluttering throughout her body while he whispers all these soft and sweet words in her ear. 

She can’t remember how long she’s been crying, and she goes to move away from him and he stops her. 

“Y’okay now? You don’t have to move if you’re not ready yet.” She nods before scooting closer to him, their thighs mashed together and her head resting on his shoulder as he rubs her shoulders softly. 

They stay like that, sitting in the comfortable silence for a while before she yawns softly and catches his attention. 

“Y’tired?” He asks and she nods 

“Sorry you spent your day with a crying mess.” She says with a sad chuckle.

“You’re my best friend Y/N. I’d gladly spend however long with you no matter if you’re sad or happy. As long as you’re okay, I’m happy. Want me to stay with you tonight?” He asks and she shakes her head. 

“Uh uh, go have fun with your other friends. I think I’m okay now. Thank you for everything H.” She says as she squeezes him softly before moving to the head of her bed and getting under the covers. 

“Text or call me if y’need anything angel. I mean it.” He says and goes to tuck her in, resulting is a soft giggle to breeze past her lips.

“Okay, dad. I love you.” She says a smile playing on her lips as he leans forward and kisses her forehead.

“I love you sweet girl. Sleep well and have sweet dreams.”

[charlesoberonn]

My take on the Avatar origin story:

About 50,000 years before the show, humanity learned how to bend the energy within themselves. This allowed them to perform feats of strength and ability beyond their physical limits. And using these abilities they started expanding across the globe.

Wherever they came to dwell, they dominated over the other lifeforms, eventually leading to the extinction of many species. This angered the spirits, especially the Spirit of the planet itself, whose long-standing balance was thrown off.

In retaliation to rid herself of this nuisance, the Spirit of the world caused great volcanic eruptions, storms, tidal waves, and earthquakes to kill the humans. Humanity was driven to near extinction, with only 10,000 humans remaining. These humans gathered in an isolated valley, the last safe place on the planet.

But rather than finishing them off there and then, the Spirit of the world grew curious and even empathetic towards the humans. The compassion they showed one another, the care in which they cultivated their new home. The Spirit didn't understand how humans could be so ignoble and violent and at the same time so virtuous and kind.

And so the Spirit chose to be reborn as a human, to try to understand how humans work. And thus the first Avatar was born.

Her name was Hizda, and she was born with a frail body to a family of little means. Despite this disadvantage, she was loved and cared for by her parents and her community.

As she grew, she struggled with leaning to bend the energy within her. She thought she'd be weak for the rest of her life. Until one day she extended her energy outward, and rather than bend the energy within, she bended the elements without. A feat only a few animals were thought capable of.

Word of the miraculous girl quickly spread across the valley, reaching the ear of the Great Chief. An old man who remembered the outside world, he was wary of the girl. He believed her to be an agent of the Spirit which killed their people not a generation prior. And so he sent out his son to kill her.

Not wanting her community attacked, Hizda fled the valley into the outside world, with her closest friends coming with her despite her protestations. The Great Chief's son pursued them with his own agents.

Across her journey she met many spirits and creatures who had reclaimed the abandoned lands the humans left behind. Naturally, they were apprehensive of humans, but Hizda convinced them she meant no harm. She learned of the damage her ancestors had caused and vowed to help repair it. And she met the creatures of the elements and learned from them to control her powers.

After a year on the run, she confronted the Chief's son who pursued her all the way to the North Pole. The two fought and Hizda won. But instead of delivering the killing blow, she spared him. And she convinced him to help her convince his father that a new way was possible.

Hizda and her friends returned to the valley and confronted the Great Chief. He rejected her and ordered her dead still, but she could defend herself. Half of all humanity sided with her, but half still sided with the Great Chief. It seemed like humanity's destructive nature could not be changed.

But then the Chief's son surprised everyone when he proposed to Hizda. Aghast at his son's behavior, the Great Chief had a change of heart. He abdicated his responsibility, making Hizda and her husband (the new Chief) and leaders of humanity.

Under their leadership, humanity made peace with the spirits and began the long process of rebuilding the scarred world.

Later in life, Hizda and the Chief had four sons. Each of them inherited one of their mother's elements. And in time, their children would inherit that element, and so on and so forth. And thus benders came into the world. Each son would become the forefather of one of the four nations.

In her old age, The widowed Hizda returned to the valley of her birth. She found a Banyan tree and meditated under its shade, trying in her dying days to understand the nature of humanity, the world, and herself. She realized in the end her nature as the reborn Spirit of the world. But she also knew that there was so much still left to do. More to build, more to resolve, more to heal.

And so, instead of returning to her spirit form, the Spirit of the world's Avatar chose to stay human. And as her life as Hizda ended, the Spirit was reborn in a new human body, and the Avatar cycle was born.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Midnight Queen

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: smut | words: 3,7k | warnings: explicit descriptions, vulgar wording, pleasure hall setting. playlist: i want to | fill the void | wicked games | earned it | into it | chills | TiO I decided to do a little rewrite of my first ever story I posted on here; thank you so much @moonlightazriel for beta reading it (sorry for serving you smut for breakfast)💛

"If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."

And he did. He kept his distance. That night, that night months ago, he left. He stayed away from her. From Elain.

He left the House of Wind. And he sought out a pleasure hall. He downed a drink. And then he walked down one of the narrow corridors, velvet tapestry on either side, towards a more private room at the very back of the pleasure hall. Primal noises, moans and screams reached him on his way there, the scents of arousal mingling in the air around him, making him grimace. But he ignored it all, his anger and frustration getting the best of him.  

Azriel had followed Rhysand’s suggestion - fed up with all the happy couples in his life, and their constant display of joy and love. He couldn't stay moment longer in the House of Wind. 

He had to leave. But not for the sake of fucking. He didn't come to the pleasure hall to fuck, only to watch. To distract himself. And it is all he's done ever since. 

He only comes here to watch. And only to watch you. 

Until tonight. Tonight is different. Tonight he needs. He craves. He is a hungry male, and he seeks to devour. To still his hunger. He wants to savour. You. 

The glass, half-full with amber liquor, is tipped to his plump lips, while his gaze, like heated honey, is trained on you, following your every move. Just like his shadows, perched on both his shoulders and the little stage you dance upon, watching your every move closely, twin flames burning in his eyes that devour you, slowly undress you. 

You're on my mind Been there all night I've been missing seeing my midnight queen Come have a drinkOr maybe three And Darling I'll make you my next victim It's been too long to spend this night alone I need to hear the sweet sound of your moans Come have a ride, baby don't be so shy I prefer girls who're not afraid to cry

His eyes are on your curves and how you put them in action. Each sway of your hips, each spin, each twirl, Azriel‘s eyes follow, leaving heat in every place they touch. You feel it, feel how your heart beat quickens, how his eyes undress and devour you. He is a hungry male and you a ready to serve. 

But you make him wait, it is a game you are playing and you are not done yet. Hunter and prey…

Since his first visit a few months ago, Solstice Eve, he has only ever come to see you dance. And you like it. Enjoy it. His attention, the silent desire brewing beneath his tan and in tattoos covered skin, and flickering brightly in those hazel eyes that could easily undress females with just one look at them…

You spin and meet his gaze, a feline grin gracing your red-coloured lips. You blow him a kiss and watch how his eyes sparkle, twin flames of lust burning in them. His arousal, the scent so musky, of night chilled mist and cedar, reaches you and you inhale deeply, revelling in it. Damp heat slicks between your thighs, but you remind yourself that he is just another customer, just another male watching you. He should not have this effect on you. You should not want him that much…

You roll your hips, your belly nearly touching the pole, hands curling tighter around it. 

Azriel‘s mind wanders, he imagines how those hands curl around his shaft, your mouth —those plump red lips— fastened around the crown of his cock. 

Your head whips to him, almost like you can read his filthy thoughts. And when your eyes meet his, you know what you want. You want him fully unleashed, see what this powerful male is capable of. You bend over, crouch down, always making sure he focuses on the part of your body you want him to. 

Straightening up, you begin to dance anew. 

The room is hazy, dimly lit — arousal making the air feel thick, and foggy. You glide over the small stage with effortless allure. Grabbing the pole, swirling around it, moving away and always coming back. All your movements seem like a symphony of grace, syncing flawlessly with the soft pulse of the music that surrounds him. 

You never break eye-contact with him. Not even when you move of the stage, each step accentuated by the sway of your round hips. A thin piece of lace fabric covers your most private areas, leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. Your soft skin is almost fully exposed to both Azriel and the slightly chilly air. But you don’t feel cold. You feel hot all over. You are burning for this male. The male with the wings and shadows and stunning, cruel beauty etched upon his face. He is a sin to look at and more than once have you imagined yourself on the ground, between his thighs, looking up at him through your lashes. Damp heat pools between your thighs and you know he can scent it - and you want him to.

Your body moves like silk in the muted glow. As you move closer, you keep your gaze locked with his, a silent promise lingering in the air.

This night will be different, you know it. This night will not end here. But in your bed.

I choose you to fill my void, yeah I speak my voice and I choose you to fill the void

Your fingertips brush his shoulder, nothing but corded muscles beneath the fabric of his black shirt, as you move around him, a hypnotic dance in sync with the soft pulse of the music — a delicate tease with every sway of your hips, every little touch. He is a gone male, you have him fully wrapped around your finger, so much that also his shadows move in sync with the music and the sway of your hips. 

With your last swirl around him coming to an end you pause, halting between his strong thighs, so very inviting to sit down, to ride. But not yet.

With tantalising precision, you guide his hands to follow the contours of your body, his rough calluses scraping against your soft skin. The room fades into insignificance, there is only you on Azriel‘s mind, the feel of your soft skin beneath his hands. He wants to touch, feel, explore, grab, squeeze and knead.

But for now, he caresses.

The chemistry between your souls and the shared desire, so acute and palpable, creates an intimate bubble - no one but Azriel and you matter anymore.

Your scent is intoxicating and Azriel wants to taste you, lick and suckle, drink you in. He has been waiting so long for this moment, anticipation nearly makes him lose control. 

The soft brush of your skin against his is enchanting and he is lost, a goner. You own him. He is fully at your mercy, cock straining almost painfully behind his trousers. 

You guide his hands higher, his palms brushing over your hard nipples and sending a shockwave of sensation right to your core. Your knees threaten to buckle when his broad hands close over your breasts, kneading them gently, and you use this as an excuse to claim the spot on his lap.

"Good evening, Azriel." His name, rolling over your lips as a seductive whisper, almost like a sweet little sin, heats his blood — he can’t wait to hear you scream it when you come on his tongue. Around his dick.

"Sit!" His command is nothing but a purr and you follow, like the good girl you are. Your knees are braced on either side of him, caging him, when you lower yourself to sit atop the powerful Illyrian male. Your scents mingle, his shadows, having formerly watched you so intently, now glade over your bare skin, their touch so delicate their strokes leave goosebumps in their wake. His hands land on your waist and he holds you tightly. Almost like he needs to ground himself, holding back from fucking you straight ahead. 

The sultry grin once again touches your lips, and you lock your gaze with his, longing for the heat in this endless brown of them.

"You returned," you say, voice hushed and breathy.

His eyes dip to your mouth. "Always." Azriel's tongue pokes out and he licks over his lower lip, slowly dragging it over the skin. "I‘ve never visited anyone else." His finger tips dig into your skin. "Only ever you."

This shouldn’t make you so happy, but it does and your grin widens.

One of his hands lowers, grabbing your hips tightly. A growl, primal and pure, leaves him when you shift atop him. You feel his arousal, pressing into you, desire just as acute as your own.

Leaning in, your damp lips brush his ear, and in a sensual whisper you say, "I was wondering when you would finally put those hands to good use." You kiss the spot below his ear and to your surprise he shudders. His reaction elicits a delighted giggle from you.

But when you lean back, some of the fire in his eyes has vanished, almost like the flames were extinguished — did you the wrong thing?

"My hands—" he starts but does not continue. But he looks down and you follow the direction of his eyes, noticing the scars adorning his hands and parts of his arms. 

A feeling, something unknown to you since this moment, blooms inside you and you quickly close the distance between the two of you again, lips nearly meeting his. "Scars or no scars, your hands are beautiful and I can’t even tell you how many times I‘ve thought about them already. On me, all over me." You kiss his jaw. "Inside of me."

His skin tightens and when you meet his gaze again the fire is back, burning brighter than ever before. 

"What a coincidence," he purrs, his hot breath fanning your exposed skin, smelling of liquor. "I’ve been imagining your hand wrapped around my cock instead of that pole quite a few times already, as well."

The grin that spreads over his face is wicked, full of sensual promises, and the prospect of a night you will never forget. You are glad the former sadness has disappeared.

"Why did you come here tonight?" Your hot breath fans his neck. It is always the same question - the question you always ask Azriel when he comes to you. Though this time the answer is different. For the first time he comes here for something else.

"To still my insatiable hunger," he rasps. You feel how the muscles in thighs tense, harden, his palms radiating heat through the flimsy piece of lace you are wearing.

A sultry chuckle parts your red-tinted lips. "Hopefully we can appease your hunger then, shadowsinger."

He smiles again, sensual, sultry promises shimmering within his eyes, but he makes no move to kiss you. Or touch you any further. You lean in again, damp lips coasting over his cheek. 

"What are you waiting for, Azriel?" His name rolling over your lips in a whisper feels like the sweetest sin to Azriel, it makes a groan erupt from some deep part of his throat, and his skin go taut with desire. Yet, he controls his hunger, his need, having to make something very clear before you commence.  

"Your consent," the shadowsinger breathes. "When we fuck, I don’t want you to do this because it is you job. When we fuck, I want you to want this just as much as I do. I want you to—"

You shut him up with a kiss. "I want you. I want this. And I know this is more than my job. I want you because my body screams for you. I need you."

It is all he needs to hear. Azriel leans in. He threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head back to give him better access. His tongue licks over the exposed column of your spine, tasting both the sweet, rose scent of your perfume and the saltiness of your sweat. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he rasps, and nips at your jaw, hand sliding between your thighs, parting them.

You feel light-headed on top of him, his erection pressing into you. "Why did you wait so long then?" Your voice is nothing more than a sensual purr. Your grind against him, your softest parts against his hardest. "Why did you make me wait for so long?"

He sucks in a sharp breath. And then he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

Your skin heats up, cheeks burning when your eyes meet his - pupils fully dilated. 

"Because it only made me hungrier for you." His lips close over yours, showing you exactly how hungry he is. "I am a starved male and I can’t wait to devour. To ravish you tonight."

You have to hold back from moaning out loud.

His index finger strokes over the lace, the only thing piece of fabric covering your private parts. He groans at the dampness soaking through the fabric, his head already starting to spin. Long, scarred hands slide beneath it, dragging through your wet folds, eliciting a gasp from you.

"For me?" he purrs.

"Yes," you breathe, eyes glazing over, "only you can get me so wet."

At first, the shadowy male is explorative, touching you gently, easing his fingers in an out of you in languid movements, but all of that comes to an end when you bite down on his neck, dragging your teeth over his hot skin. Azriel laughs, almost a little wickedly, and flicks his wrist, plunging his fingers into you from a different angle now. He fucks you hard - fingers spearing into you, thumb rubbing your clit until release shatters through you. You cry out, nails digging into his skin, head falling back. Your knees buckle and your limbs feel tingle, his fingers still inside of you, letting you ride out your high. No male has ever made you feel like that, and he is only using his fingers to do so. If in this composed position, and only with two of his fingers, he can already make you feel like that, and make you come so hard, you won’t even allow yourself to imagine what he will be able to do with his…cock.

He is smug about how easily he made you come - an almost arrogant smile gracing his plump and swollen lips - cocky male! But something about it fuels a fire inside of you. He is skilled and he knows it, and somehow you love it. 

He removes his fingers, slowly, and holding your gaze he dips them into his mouth, licking them clean of your juice. A guttural noise rumbles out of him, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. "Fuck," he breathes and a moment later his hands cradle your face and he kisses you, deep, passionate and hungry. 

You roll your hips against him, almost whining when your sensitive core rubs over the bulge in his pants. Your skin prickles, your clit is swollen, core throbbing while your nerves are on fire. You need him fully. You need him inside of you. You need him unleashed. 

"More," your breathlessly plead. And you are surprised - it is never you who begs.

Azriel kisses the corner of your mouth, lips lingering. "I wasn’t planning on stopping here."

He hoists you in his strong arms, large wings flaring behind his back, your legs wrapping around Azriel’s waist. With ease he carries you to the large bed, and then tosses you onto it, into the dark, silken sheets. He is towering over your, shoulders squared, wings spread, shadows dancing on his shoulders. "Strip," he orders, but adds, "or do you need help?"

A smirk appears on your lips and he is on you the next second, tearing through the flimsy piece of fabric, bearing you to chilly air and him. "Apologies, I will buy you a new outfit." His lips coast over neck to cleavage, until he reaches your tits. He takes each hardened peak into his mouth, letting his tongue glide over the pebbled skin, closing his lips, suckling, his other hand giving just as much attention to your other breast, kneading gently. The calloused skin is rough against yours and feels phenomenal and terribly arousing. You need him. You need him so much, you simultaneously let the tip of your toes slide beneath the waistband of his pants, and your hand over his crotch. With ease, you flick open the button, and push the trousers down the curve of his ass. His hard cock springs free and leaves you breathless - he is long and thick, a little curved and absolutely beautiful.

Interrupting your shameless staring, he kisses you, tongue parting your lips, teeth clashing, tongues dancing, fighting for dominance neither of you allows the other. Both scarred hands, arms adorned with visible veins, are braced next to your head. He is leaning over you, caging you and you love how he makes you feel - respected in your choices, seen, and not just like an object. That’s why you want him so much. That’s why you need him so much - he is not like other males. 

You only break the kiss when you feel something wet on your skin, and lift your head, Azriel’s gaze following your eyes.

A drop of pre-come has fallen onto your belly, right next to your navel. You want to clench your thighs, something low in your belly tightening. The male sucks in a sharp breath, and then an almost animalistic growl parts his lips. 

His hot breath fans your throat, canines scratching over your skin. "That’s what you do to me. That’s how much I crave you."

He forces your thighs further apart, shifting on the bed, the broad crown of his cock nestled against your entrance. 

"Open up for me, my queen." Queen. You have never been called anything more beautiful. More powerful. 

Your hips fall even wider open and he slides into you, sinking into your tender flesh, stretching you out. Nothing could have ever prepared you for this feeling, the feeling of him - no one has ever felt like Azriel. So good. So right.

There is a hint of pain, but you eventually adjust to his size, and moan.

Never ever have you felt so perfectly filled. "Fucking Gods," you moan, fisting the sheets next to you. "Fuck, Azriel, move."

He loves the dominance, the power he has. With a low chuckle, seeing your already blissed out stage, he pulls out until only the tip is in and then rolls his hips against you, plunging deep into you, the muscles in his ass flexing.

"You are such a needy little thing, huh? So greedy for my dick." He is searching your gaze, waiting for a reaction - do you like the slight degradation? Is it too much, due to your job.

But you like it - coming from his lips you like it. You know he doesn't mean it in relation to your job. 

You let your hands slide down to his ass, sinking your nails into the flesh, your own hips lifting, back arching. 

"How do you want me, my midnight queen?"

You let out a shaky breath, his length slowly sliding into you, letting you feel every proud inch of his erection. "Ha-rd," you stutter. "I want you to take me hard."

He growls in approval and soon sets a relentless tempo, pulling out to the tip and slamming back into you - at a brutal pace his hips snap against yours, pounding and thrusting into you. 

The breaths that leave Azriel are ragged and fast, just like your own. Your whimper and moan, cry out in pleasure, meeting each of his thrusts with the roll of your hips. 

The sounds of smacking flesh, the groaning of the bed and the bedframe hitting the wall fill the small room. Your back arches, and you lift your legs, curling them around Azriel, heels pressing into his bum. The new angle allows him to fuck you even deeper and it has you writhing and squirming beneath him. 

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him and it tells Azriel you are close. And so is he - release already starts to gather in his spin, flecks of black and white sparking in front of his vision. 

"You are taking me so well." Azriel captures your lobe between his teeth. "You want to come, don't you?"

You nod, no more talking possible. You are a blissed-out mess beneath him, driven only by desire and lust, your body feeling like jelly. 

Azriel clicks his tongue and you are surprised you heard it over the blood rushing in your ears. "Use your words!" There is nothing soft in his voice, nothing gentle - it is a command and you absolutely love his dominance. Because he respects you in his dominance. It is about your pleasure as well. This is about you. This moment is about you. He sees you. Respects you. 

"Yes!" you cry out. The dam bursts and release washes over you. You come undone, screaming out in pleasure, and Azriel follows you right over the edge. His thrusts become languid, his hot seed spurting of your walls, filling you. "Take it all," he groans into your ear, hips rolling against yours and you milk him dry. "Let me fill you up nicely. I want my scent to be all over you, stick to your skin for ages." 

Your eyes roll back, and you are too delirious to realise that this wonderful moment is already over. 

You slump onto the mattress, knees buckling, limps numb, chest rising and falling with deep inhales. Azriel pulls out and then collapses right on top of you. 

"No male will ever touch you again, Y/N. You are mine! From now on, until the last day of our immortal life."

~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[bisexual-thoughtss]

Hey I was wondering if you can do a bernard x fem reader where when he comes back she's pissed off because he left and there's angry fucking

Bernard x Reader

Merry Christmas you filthy animals!! My first Bernard smut 😈

You’re going to kill Bernard.

It’s Christmas Eve and everything had gone to plan all night, until it hadn’t.

Bernard showed up to tell you that Santa needs help and that you’re in charge, quite literally blinking out of existence right in front of you before you could get a word in.

You wanted to scream, knowing all of his duties just fell onto your shoulders without warning. You powered through, fixing everything you could at the pole while Bernard fixed the problems on Santa’s end.

It had all turned out fine in the end but now you’re fuming in the aftermath, you can’t believe he just left you like that.

~

“Hey, sugarplum. Merry Christmas,” Bernard bends to kiss your cheek when he finally returns, looking as perky as ever. You scowl up at him from your chair, arms crossed over your chest. You had retreated to your room once everything was done and you’ve been waiting for him to arrive back.

He falters a bit at your lack uh of greeting, your cold stare stopping him in his tracks.

“S-sugar? Y’okay?” He trips over his words.

“What were you thinking,” you growl, standing up and stalking over to him. You poke a finger into his chest, pushing him back until his knees are against the side of the bed.

“Leaving me there with absolutely no warning,” you poke him again and he folds, landing on the mattress with a thud.

“No explanation,” you frown, crawling into his lap.

“What am I going to do with you?” You snap as he avoids your eyes.

Your fingers curl into his hair, pulling his head back until he’s forced to look at you. He goes a little slack as you tighten your hand in his hair, his eyes half lidded as you lean in to mouth at the point of his ear. He lets out an indecent moan when pull the tip into your mouth and suck before pulling back to look at him.

“Punish me?” He asks, looking delighted.

“You’re such a brat, way too excited about a punishment,” you shake your head fondly.

A light hand against his chest has him falling back into the sheets, already pliant underneath you. You grind against him teasingly, smirking as you feel him already hard.

“Excited already?” You tease and he blushes, squirming under you.

“Take this off,” you ruck up his shirt and he hurries to comply, his hat coming off with it. As you run your hands down his chest you stop to tweak a nipple just to hear him gasp. He looks so pretty all spread out. You reach down to rub him through his pants and he arches into it. You let him thrust against your hand until he’s begging for more, which you grant him. You shuffle his pants just out of the way enough for his length to slap against his stomach and he sighs happily when you take him in hand, groaning as you spit into your hand to ease the slide. Soon enough the pre steadily leaking from his tip is slicking the way easily. You palm over the head a few times and he’s practically shaking. He’s starting to breathe heavily underneath you, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm.

“You close, baby?” You hum and he nods frantically, bucking into your fist. You give him one more stroke before letting go and he groans in disappointment, cock twitching sadly against his stomach.

“Please,” he uses those big puppy dog eyes on you, but you’re not giving in that easily.

“Mm, maybe next time,” you hum noncommittally, starting to jerk him off again, “maybe not.”

He’s writhing under you, begging for you to let him come. You can tell that he’s trying to keep his reactions lowkey to trick you into letting him come, but you know better. When he starts to gasp between his pleas for release, you let him go again and he moans sadly at the loss. He looks bewildered when you stand up.

“Maybe I should just leave you here, hard and aching for it,” you muse. His eyes are bigger than you’ve ever seen them as he whines pitifully for you not to.

“But that’s not my plan. Strip,” you order and he rushes to get his pants and shoes off. He stares up at you reverently as you take your clothes off, taking in your form like it’s the first time. You grab a condom and roll it onto him, keeping your touch light to avoid giving him too much stimulation. You straddle him again, huffing a laugh as his cock kicks under you desperately.

“You wanna be inside so bad, huh?” You coo and he groans.

“Yes, yes, please,” he begs, hips bucking up.

You decide to tease just a little more, grinding against his dick pressed between you and his stomach. He groans as you slide slickly against him, his head catching on your entrance. You finally give in mostly for your own sake, finally lifting your hips so he sinks into you. You sigh happily, grinding your clit against his pubic bone. He reaches out to grab your hips, but you smack his hands away. Grabbing his wrists, you bring them up over his head and press them into the mattress.

“Uh uh, you’re gonna take what I give you,” you grumble, “I’m in charge now.”

You raise your hips and drop them down hard, a strangled moan coming from Bernard. You fuck yourself on his cock, chasing your own pleasure. He whines as the slick sounds of the two of you fill the air, craning his neck as far as he can to wrap his lips around your nipple and suck. You let out a pleased hum at the vibrations as he moans around it.

“I’m close, please let me come,” he begs, hips flexing to try and buck into you.

“Sure, baby. You can come whenever you want,” you tell him and he looks thrilled, “but I’m not stopping until I’m finished.”

His face drops as he lets out a pretty moan.

“‘M so close, I’m not gonna last,” he whines.

“You gonna come? Just can’t help yourself, huh?” You tease and he can’t take it, throwing his head back with a groan as he comes. It exposes the length of his neck to you and you can’t help but lean down to give him a love bite. You’ve slowed down, but you don’t stop fucking him and he’s writhing underneath you. You let go of his wrists after you suck a couple more marks on his neck to brace against his chest, changing the angle of his cock deliciously. He’s hitting your gspot now with every thrust and you can feel your orgasm welling in your belly quickly.

“I’m- I think I’m gonna come again,” he whimpers, entirely overstimulated.

“Make me come,” you plead as you bounce desperately, his hand shooting down to rub your clit. It’s only a couple more thrusts before you’re both crying out. A steady stream of curses leaves your mouth as you come around him and you feel him pulse into the condom again. Once the aftershocks subside you go boneless, collapsing against his chest, his softening cock still inside you.

“You okay? Was that too much?” You make sure, petting his sweaty curls away from his face as he rubs your back.

“So good. Merry Christmas to me,” he smiles blissfully and you snort.

“Such a brat,” you laugh, pulling him into a kiss.

[soobnny]

the alchemy — athlete!chan x reader ; established relationship (0.9k words)

where’s the trophy, he just comes running over to me

olympic inspired fic

Chan told stories.

His hands, rough with hard work, held strength and sacrifices. Years of training manifested in his calloused palms, in the occasional cuts and bruises.

They were proof of his passion, his dreams, his ambitions.

It’s almost funny how that entire world he had crafted with tears and sweat and sacrifices all boils down to a single moment, to right now, under the watchful eyes of thousands. Maybe even millions.

On the other side stood a realm, a place he can reap the efforts he’d planted step-by-step. He can faintly see victory from where he’s standing.

The crowd is a blur of color and noise. There are hands with flags waving, faces of anticipation, voices that brewed with support. Chan can feel the weight of the entire stadium pressing against his chest.

There is drumming, and beating, and shouting, and cheers.

And then static.

He breathes in, the space falling away in consequence. There is only the wall of focus he’s just built for himself—only the track, the runway, the pole, the leap.

The bar was set higher than it had been on his first attempt. A podium finish was in his reach with the pole in his hands and the runway in front of him if he would just make this jump.

A sharp breath.

The faintest rustle of the uniform he’s wearing.

And then the low hum of static.

There is nothing but the vault.

His pulse is thudding in his ears, heartbeat echoing a steady beat of anticipation. The sound of his shoes hitting the ground seemed louder than it was earlier.

There was only one thing to do now.

Chan’s gaze falls straight to the landing zone. He zeroes in on the marks, the mat awaiting his landing, the exact moment the pole would bend, how his body should fly above the vault.

That entire world, the callouses in his hands, the roughness of hard work, the countless hours of repetition were all about to be reduced to that one line on the horizon.

His grip tightens on the pole, familiar yet too rigid for comfort. And then he’s at the starting line.

At a last effort of any fragment of comfort, he searches for you where you stand. You were there, always have been, with eyes holding softness, and hope, and comfort. Something no one else could ever replicate.

A flicker of a smile curves at his lips, and then, as if his body has always known the exact timing, his legs start to move. One step, two steps. One after the other. His speed picks up, his hands instinctively tighten around the pole as it digs into the ground beneath him, and then he flies.

Chan flies, and the crowd falls silent in anticipation.

His entire world spins in such a short amount of time, even stills as his body—taught with the thrill of possibility—twists. There is muscle memory in the way he soars in the air, the same air heavy with the taste of victory that wasn’t his yet.

Gravity takes over.

Everything else falls behind him. Flashbacks of late night practices, and crying, and thinking he’s not good enough. Moments when he’d almost given up. Days when he’d felt like his efforts were going nowhere.

You’d always been there to help him back up.

You. You. You.

Thud.

His body hits the mats, and the sound echoes for half a second.

Just like that, it was done. He had done it.

His breath comes back in quick bursts, heart hammering in his chest.

When the mat propels his body back up, he lands on his feet. And before he can really process the victory he’d been working upon, he’s already turning. Sprinting.

The only direction to go now was the stands, the only direction left was to you.

You. You. You.

His legs carried him faster, and faster, and the world moved in a similar slow motion as he was when he was flying. The cheering, the flashing lights of cameras, the explosiveness of the stadium, everything was abandoned in the background.

Chan barrels into you, arms pulling you into the tightest embrace he could muster. For a moment, nothing else mattered—the gold medal, the record, nothing. Except for the fact that he had made it, and you were there with him to see it happen.

“Channie” is the only word you can muster, voice thick as you loop your arms around his neck.

Apparently, it’s also the only word he needs to pull himself back, hands resting on your shoulders as if needing to anchor himself to the moment. His eyes look into yours for a split second.

His eyes told stories too. It was always his most honest and obvious tell. And right now, they were looking at you with so much love.

Yours, with pride.

“Baby—“

Without warning, his lips find yours.

You feel everything in one kiss. The adrenaline, the years of work, his entire world. Chan leans into you, breathing you in, feeling the surge of everything he had accomplished into someone that felt like home.

Fuck, you make him happier than any Olympic gold medal ever could.

Somewhere in the distance, the announcer’s voice rings out his name as champion, but all he can ever see and hear right now is you. It was done. He’d made the vault, now all he needed to do was hold onto you.

There’s plenty of time for the rest later, plenty of time for celebrations, for the podium, for the journalists.

Right now, it was only ever you and the bright smile on your face, and the same smile he’s mirroring on his own.

And right now, in this moment, Chan doesn’t have to jump to know what it feels like to fly.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Javi’s Playground✨

A/N: Ahhh I’ve been wanting to write a Javi one shot for a while, and I finally got the inspiration after listening to “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me come up with a name and beta read so I didn’t chicken out and not post 😘 This is my first time writing Javi, so I’d like as much feedback as I can get 🥰 I tried my best with the Spanish translations.

Summary: Javi decides to blow off some steam at the strip club, but he doesn’t intend to attempt to take one of the dancers home with him.

Pairing: Javier Pena x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Tags: smut, flirting, Javi goes to a strip club, alcohol, smoking, unprotected p in v, oral, Narcos era, reader is a stripper, reader has long hair, switching POVs, some Spanish (translations at bottom of doc)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The glow of the amber lights swirl above his head as a crystal disco ball spins slowly, throwing its sparkly essence into the crowded strip club. This isn’t his normal place, Paradise Cove. It’s only a distraction, a secret alcove to let go of any thoughts of drug lords, innocent bloodshed, Pablo Escobar, or any traces of misery he’s been holding on to over the past treacherous year. This was a place for forgetting, relaxing the mind, indulging in mere fantasies he could only wish to grasp his torn hands around. So he’d drink, smoke, and indulge in beautiful women in peace on this lonely Friday evening. 

   The red walls are smeared with flecks of sparkles, and the atmosphere is bursting with energy and dim lighting. The cool glass of amber whiskey sits in his hand as he gulps down another swig, letting the burn coat his insides as he flicks the small lighter and lights up another Marlboro cigarette. He lets the smoke surround him, fogging his vision as he inhales the nicotine and lets it sit there dwindling around him in a blur. Just for a couple of seconds, just enough to take the edge off of his growing migraine. 

   He throws his head back and exhales, blowing the smoke out as the music changes over to a tune he knows. “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground starts to play from the blaring speakers, the song slowly slipping through his ears as he sits up just a little straighter in the black leather chair. 

   The crowd hollers when the next girl takes the stage, low whistles reverberating off the side mahogany tables as the volume of the music picks up. He doesn’t realize what they’re all making a fuss about until he looks up and sees you. The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Esplendida. 

   You’re so radiant, the way you strut across the stage in your crystal clear stiletto high heels as you spin in slow motion, running your fingers through your thick, long curls as you look over your shoulder and flirt with the crowd. Your legs are so long, the curve of your thighs begging to be touched as you sway your hips side to side and get lost in the song.

   And then there she was, in platform double suede. Yeah, there she was. Like disco lemonade.

   He can’t help but grip the damp glass in his hands a little too tight as he spreads his legs wide and relaxes into the plush leather, his eyes glued to you as you slide down the pole gracefully. He wets his lips as his tongue glides across his bottom lip, his cigarette burning his flared nostrils as he oogles the way you please the crowd with every single move you make across the reflective stage. 

   He watches the way you push the swell of your breasts up with your delicate hands, eyes the tiny black lingerie set that barely covers your porcelain skin, assesses the way the lacy thong skims across the curve of your hips, and nearly drowns on his sip of bubbling whiskey as you bend down and show off the thick globes of your ass. 

   Javi sets the half empty glass of alcohol down beside him on the little sturdy table and grabs his denim clad knee as he sinks his nails into the fabric, trying to hold himself together as he listens to the track play through the massive club, watching the way you keep turning and finding his searing gaze. 

   I smell sex and candy here. Who’s that lounging in my chair? Who’s that casting devious stares in my direction? Mama, this surely is a dream. 

   His brown eyes blow wide every time you turn and wink his way, casually flirting as you flip your hair and bite your lower lip, sending him spiraling as he feels the blood rush to his cock in his tight jeans, feeling just how hard he is now as his thick cock presses into the metal of the zipper. It’s like you know what you’re doing, sparkling eyes penetrating his gaze as you flirtatiously bat your long mascara coated eyelashes and eye fuck him from the glowing stage, making sure he’s getting exactly what he came her for. To feel good, to indulge in his fantasies, to make him think you want him. But customers don’t get to take strippers home. That’s not how this business works, not how it’s supposed to run, unless… 

   You slide slowly down the metal pole, ending up on the floor of the lit up stage as you spread your legs wide and tease him just a little as you play with the straps of your panties and press your heels into the floor, giving him a view that just about takes him out. He leans his elbows against his knees, rakes a hand through his thick mustache as he groans into the palm of his hand while sweat sticks to his tanned forehead. 

   He loves the view that’s on display, loves the outline of your pussy as he swears he can see wetness pooling there in between your legs while you sit there and tease him with the biggest smirk on your face he’s ever seen in his life. Those red, plump lips, those glistening thighs that deserve to be kissed, that pulsing core that begs to be lapped up. He can see it now, you splayed out on his bed while he fucks you deep, bottoming out as you scream his name, claw at his tanned skin as you beg for more. He’d take care of you. God he would. And fuck does he want to. Desesperadamente. 

   He can feel the precum sliding against his thick length, can feel just how badly he wants to palm himself through his tight denim as he watches you fall apart on the stage before him. At this point he has no restraint, can barely sit here and watch as you start to crawl on your hands and knees toward him, hypnotizing eyes that lock on his as he leans forward and unfastens the black tie that clings to his button-up white collared shirt. 

   His eyebrows furrow, lips parting unbelievably as you curl your finger and beckon him to come to the side of the stage, your gaze flicking over his figure as he prays you don’t see the erection that’s begging for some kind of release that’d involve hands, or maybe a mouth, a warm tongue…

   He takes another drag of the sweet nicotine and pushes himself out of the leather chair, slowly trudging up to you as he lets his eyes trail generously over your perfect body. When he finally makes it over to the end of the glossy stage, he sees just how beautiful your eyes really are, eyes that were just eye fucking him seconds ago, eyes he’d love to gaze into while he cants his hips against yours roughly. Eyes he could lost in, swim in.

   You smirk his way, letting your hands run through your tousled curls as you flutter thick eyelashes up at him. He digs into the pit of his denim pocket and pulls out a crisp twenty dollar bill as he cautiously slides it inside the lace of your push-up bra, his fingertips grazing the edge of one of your perky breasts as he groans in response. Your skin is so soft, he thinks what you have underneath the lace will be even softer, divine, delicious. 

   You bite your bottom lip flirtatiously and play with the end of his loose tie, letting the silk slip through your fingertips as he watches in a blissed out daze. You could’ve chosen anyone to target, could’ve had attention from any of the sleazy men in this nightclub, but you chose him. The one with the flecks of honey eyes, the one that couldn’t keep his eyes off you for one second, the handsome stranger who must’ve been new to this place. 

   “You new here?” you ask curiously as you eye his stance, watching the way his eyes seem to light with burning fire every time he even dares to look your way. 

   “Been here once or twice before, but this is the first time I’m seeing you, hermosa.” He lets his dark eyes slide down your body, a smirk curling across his plush lips as he leans in closer, until you can smell the tinge of nicotine lacing through his taste buds. “You sure look good up on that stage, amar. Prettiest thing I’ve seen in a city like San Francisco.”

   “Oh? You like what you see?” you blush as you hang your legs off the end of the stage, just enough to brush his thighs as you feel how strong they are. 

   “Oh, I like what I see alright. Jodidamente perfecta.”

   You feel your cheeks burn bright red, feel your thighs clench up as you see how thick his fingers are, how dark and ravenous his eyes look, how hard he is underneath the fabric of his tight jeans. You don’t ever get this wound up about customers, but something about well dressed, smoldering men makes you want to lose all dignity and throw yourself at him. He must be so good in bed. With the way he’s staring at you, all hot and bothered, he may as well just carry you out of this club. Even if it’s technically against the rules. 

   “What’s your name, handsome?” you ask as you brush your heels against the side of his ankles and watch him tense up under your touch. 

   “Javier. Just call me Javi for short, though. And yours, hermosa?” You tell him your name, your real name, not your stripper name, even if that’s against the rules, too. You clearly don’t care about any fucking rules at this point. 

   “Ahh, that’s a gorgeous name. Telling me your real name, yeah? Aren’t you a little rule breaker,” he teases as he cocks up a thick eyebrow and slides his thumb over his lips as he brushes against his thick mustache. You wonder what it’d feel like with his mouth covering your core, his mustache brushing over your swollen clit as he licks and licks until you come apart on his large tongue. 

   You pull yourself out of ridiculous wet fantasies and watch the smoke fall off his tongue. “I live to break rules,” you tease as you pull him closer, catching the end of his black tie as he’s so close now that you can see the embers of brown flecks scatter across his dark eyes. He’s so handsome, you think you want to go home with him. 

   “That right, hermosa?” he asks as he takes another long drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke away from your face as that smug smirk still encases his playful teasing. 

   “That’s right,” you giggle as you gently curl your fingers over the wrist that holds the burning cigarette. 

   He watches you carefully, eyes full of trouble as he puffs out a breath and fills your nostrils with the stench of whiskey and nicotine. “What do you say, hermosa? Wanna take a tour of my bedroom tonight?”

   You carefully snag his lit cigarette from his outstretched hand and slide it in between your crimson lips, taking a slow drag of the cigarette as he watches you with dark, wide eyes and parted lips that shine with the gleam of amber colored whiskey. You gently blow out the smoke in his face and lean forward as you wrap your manicured fingers around his loosened tie. “You can give me money, yes, but what else? I have plenty of money. What is it that you want, handsome?”

   He grabs the cigarette from your open hand and takes a whiff of the nicotine, letting it blow right back into your face as you smell whiskey, smoke, and trouble fill your lungs.

   “Te deseo…” He says it slowly, meticulously like it’s the most sensual thing he’s ever said to a woman before. You don’t know what it means, but it damn sure sounds like you need to say yes. 

   Your eyebrows raise as you smile wide his way. “I don’t speak Spanish, handsome. But I think I want to say yes. Wanna indulge me in what exactly it is you want?”

   He takes another slow drag of his cigarette as he smirks your way. “I want you, hermosa. In my bed, underneath my body, so I can fuck you fast and hard. Wanna rip off that lace and devour your sweet pussy until I have you coming apart on my tongue. Wanna make love to the beauty that stole my heart away tonight.”

   Your breath hitches as you gasp out of breath, not realizing you clutched onto his leather belt and clenched your sticky thighs together as slick pools warmly in your lace. You should’ve known he was a handsome menace the first moment you saw him sitting there with his glass of cold whiskey and lit up cigarette. You should’ve fucking guessed. 

   His body is now too close to yours, chest pressed against yours as you stand shakily off the stage and feel just how bad he wants you through the fabric of his tight jeans. You can see that way his dark eyes flick over yours, feel the heavy breaths coming from his broad chest, smell the stench of trouble and nicotine lacing around your wrists as he slowly grabs a strand of hair and whispers your name into the shell of your ear. 

   It’s almost too much, almost enough to get you fired right on the spot until the music suddenly changes to a Rhianna song, signaling it was time for the next dancer to come out. You abruptly pull away from him as you feel the tension sit thick in the air, almost like a fog takes over and you can’t see anything clearly anymore. 

   It’s your time to go, to mingle with other clients, and he knows that, you can see it in the understanding of those big chocolate eyes that stare adamantly at you. You give him a flirtatious wave and brush up against his large arm as you whisper up to him, “I get off in an hour. Meet me in the back.”

   He watches you saunter off, half smiling as he realizes he got the girl. He never misses, almost never gets turned down, but this one he might want to see again. He can already tell he’ll want you to stick around, maybe even make you his. Maybe he won’t have to walk this lonely, overbearing life alone anymore. Maybe…. just maybe you’ll stay. Maybe he’ll let you stay. Maybe for a night, a month, a year, forever. 

   The smell of sweat covered bodies, vanilla scents of sensual movements and whiskey clad tongues fill the room as you move at a slow, passionate pace. His meaty hands and smooth tongue are everywhere, sliding down your neck, pulling your pebbled nipples into his warm mouth, and lapping thoroughly at the slick between your sticky thighs. 

   Your moans come in sync. Elated, deafening, ravenous every time he licks a thick stripe over your dripping core. He groans each time you rake your fingers through his mess of dark locks, your pleasurable moans filling the room every time he pulls your puffy clit into his mouth as his thick fingers curl up into the spongy walls that make you see blinding stars in your vision. He doesn’t stop even after the first time you come for him, spilling all your pent up slick as he laps up every single drop between your thighs. 

   He pulls out another mind blowing orgasm with his experienced tongue alone, and he doesn’t even give you a minute to breathe before he’s splitting you in two with the slick cock that fills you to the brim, bottoming out in you time and time again until you feel him everywhere in your system, like the nicotine and whiskey that fill his lungs night after lonely night. He licks into your mouth, his smooth tongue dancing along with yours until you can’t taste anything but the tang of neat whiskey and toxic nicotine that bleed into your bloodstream, tasting like sweet addiction and danger, a lover in disguise. 

   You’re already close again, almost spilling yourself around his thick cock as he bends your knees back and folds you like an acrobatic so you can feel him deep, rough every single time he snaps his hips against yours and buries his face into your neck with furrowed eyebrows as he sucks and bites against the base of your neck. 

   “Come for me again, hermosa. There you go, such a good fucking girl. Let me feel you again. Squeezing so tight around my fucking cock,” he growls as he guides his thumb down to your clit and starts to circle nice and slow, the pressure building in your spine as you start to let go. 

   “Javi,” you moan as you scratch your long nails down his bare back, clawing at his tanned skin every time he guides his slick cocks inside you, reaching that spongy spot that makes you plead and moan with every thrust of his hips. 

   “Attagirl, hermosa. Tan encantadora,” he pants as sweat covers his glistening forehead. Once, twice, three more tight circles on your bundle of nerves and you’re squeezing his cock, spilling yourself all over him as you moan loudly into his ear as he comes seconds after, throwing his head back as he groans with pleasure as thick ropes of white come paint your insides. 

   He topples over next to you in the damp, twisted sheets and pulls you against his broad chest while his free hand lights a cigarette up while he gets lost in the thick cloud of nicotine and musty sex. While he sucks on the addictive stick of nicotine, his dark eyes wade over you as his lips graze warmly over your sweat covered forehead. 

   “Did so good for me, hermosa. You wanna stay the night? I can get you all cleaned up in the morning, and we can go for breakfast. Maybe eat you out on the kitchen counter while I make you coffee. What do you say, hermosa?”

   You shift closer against his side, sliding your fingers over his glistening chest as his deep breaths fill the void in the spacious room. You flick your eyes up to him and study him, watching the way he inhales smoke and stares warmly down your way, like he’s in a lucid dream just watching the girl of his dreams. “You mean like… you want to keep seeing me? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

   His jaw goes slack as his lips parts open, putting the burning cigarette out on the pale blue ash tray on the edge of his mahogany nightstand. “That’s right, hermosa. A sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girl like you deserves more, and I want to give you that. If you’ll let me.”

   You take in his offer, your fingers threading through his as you crawl over him and graze your swollen red lips against his. “Okay then, Javi. Show me your world.”

   He cups the back of your neck and brings you down to his lips as he slots his tongue between your lipstick smeared lips, pulling you deep into him as you taste every shade of red he can paint you, coating you in desire you’ve only ever dreamed of. 

   He tasted like sex and candy, and you were just getting started. 

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging or commenting or leaving me asks 🩷

Spanish Translations:

Hermosa - beautiful

Esplendida - gorgeous

desesperadamente - desperately

jodidamente perfecta - fucking perfect

Tan Encantadora - so lovely

Tags: @keylimebeag @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@vivian-pascal @msjarvis @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @burntheedges

@akah565 @princesatracionera @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @pedrostories

@syd-djarin @tuquoquebrute @r3dheadedwitch

[moonshynecybin]

for the prompt list, #8 rosquez and the closet is the factory ducati box next year

#8: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck.

WORD. This got long (1.3k good lord)... fox in the henhouse concept from f1vegas look at their post here...

Vale pulls him into a closet after FP2. Marc, to Valentino’s surprise, goes.

“What was that?” He starts, frustration filling him to the brim. Pecco in the dirt, Marc one step closer to his ninth. Running through Ducati like a fox in a henhouse.

Marc doesn’t answer, just stares at him like he’s taking fucking notes. It conjures memories of when he would follow Vale’s lap in quali after sticking his own bike on pole, a moment just to catalog his strategies, peek at what lines he was planning on taking, and it thins his already narrow patience.

“Marc,” he tries again, more forcefully. His tone is quiet, he has to be quiet in here, with half a dozen Ducati engineers outside, but he knows Marc feels every inch of intention.

Marc’s posture is clamped up, arms crossed. His scar is poking out of the sleeve of his shirt, jagged and pale in the dark of the room. He blinks calmly, and Vale shifts, irritation ratcheting up. Marc does this— stonewalls him like this. Refuses to engage.

“What?” 

“With Pecco— what were you doing?”

“Let me go.” Marc asks, and his voice is even, but his eyes— gone. Done. He isn’t even looking at Vale, is absently looking at the space of wall to the right of Vale’s shoulder.

Vale hadn’t even realized they were touching. His hand springs away from Marc’s arm like he’s been burned, and he compensates by stepping closer, crowding Marc in against the wall. Body heat simmers in the small space of the room, close and heavy. 

He takes a rough breath inwards. He fucking hates the sight of him in that red team shirt, hates the way his eyes sink in on themselves whenever Vale tries to get him to, to do something. Bend, a little.

He never does.

“Answer me,” Vale asks, tilting his head so he’s directly in Marc’s eyeline. “Or are you too much of a coward?”

That triggers something— a flame sparks, catching at Marc’s edges, and he’s back, terrifyingly present. His eyes shoot up to meet Vale, chin lifting proudly, and his jaw clenches. The most direct acknowledgment of tension Vale’s gotten from him since they were last on track together, going on four years ago now.

“Or what?” Marc answers, casually flinty. He's not giving an inch, now, every bit of the ego rising to the surface. Marc’s back, he remembers everyone saying last year. Apparently so. 

Still, something ugly and satisfied claws in his chest at the attention, at the way he’s finally gotten Marc to acknowledge it. He knows Marc wouldn’t do this with Pecco, wouldn’t let it get this far— He’d be out the door by now, halfway to his motorhome, content in his ability to confine it to the track. Content to say he doesn’t take it with him once he steps off of the motorcycle. That careful separation of Marc the rider and Marc the person that Vale knows is entirely bullshit.

But he’s not turning and leaving. He's still here, with Vale, his feet planted on the ground like he’s bracing to throw a punch. 

Marc’s neck stretches, craning up a few inches to meet him. The only light in the room, a thin slash peeking in through the crack in the doorframe, casts dramatic shadows over his cheekbones, moody and dangerous, and his eyes are deep, dark pits. They flash as Vale refuses to yield, glimmering with that savage energy he recognizes when he looks in the mirror. His pulse thrums, loud in his ears, and—

Marc looks older, like this, alone and up close. Tired. Anger setting his face into marble. A statue carved by Vale’s own hand.

The moment stretches tight enough to snap, coiling in his body like a spring. Breath hits his face. He can’t stop staring at the soft pink of Marc’s upper lip. Vale leans forward, on the lure, and Marc leans back, reactive, unsure. His eyes jump wildly, searching for something on Vale’s face.

And then they’re kissing like they’re starving.

He loses time after that. Flashes. A hand in his hair. A wet pressure across his pulse point. Fingers working at his belt. Marc presses close and he presses closer, tugging his waistband down over his ass and spitting in his palm. Marc’s eyes close when he gets a hand around blood hot skin, nearly collapsing into Vale.

His thumb rides its way to press against the underside of Marc’s cock, wet against his fingers. Marc’s eyes squeeze shut, pretty face locking up at that first lightning sharp hit of pleasure as Vale gets his teeth in his neck and bites hard, tongue a soft counterpart against the skin there. Marc shifts, shivery, a caught sound in the back of his throat, and his lips part. Soft, overcome. A different fucking world from the way he was a few moments ago, tension snaking away from him as Vale sucks harder. He’s going to leave a mark, something obvious, shiny and purple.

“Cameras, cameras, cameras,” Marc remembers, chest heaving. He taps at Vale’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Vale says, unrepentant, and leans in to bite again. Marc moans louder this time— he always did like it like this— and Vale has to break off to shush him.

“Microphones, microphones, microphones,” He whispers in Marc’s ear, just to watch Marc fight a smile. His own cock is throbbing, and he hauls Marc against him so he’s riding the top of his thigh. His dick bumps against Marc’s, still slick and red from spit and the friction of Vale’s hand. He catches on the picture they make for a second, breathing loud in the quiet of the small room.

“C’mon,” Marc pleads, characteristically impatient, voice hitching in as Vale wraps a hand around them both, drawing them off on long strokes. “C’mon— fuck,”

“I’ve got you,” Vale answers, still fixed on the visual of Marc’s dick notched beside his own— he thinks he can feel Marc’s pulse through his cock— 

“Please,” scrapes its way out of Marc, throaty, almost involuntary, and he’s so wet now, leaning into Vale as his arm works faster. The sound is obscene, they’re going to get caught. He doesn’t care.

“I know baby, I’ve got you—“ Vale babbles, nonsense flowing out of him as Marc’s head burrows into his neck, breath hot and wet on his skin. “That’s perfect, you’re perfect, fuck, just like that—“

They’re both close now, breath coming harsh and fast, and the temperature in the closet is scorching, heat crowding in. Marc shudders as Vale gets in a particularly nasty stroke, and Vale can feel it, a feedback loop between their bodies winding him up every time Marc’s hot mouth skates over his skin, every time his cock jerks in his hand. He feels wild, half out of his mind, hand in his dick and on Marc’s dick in a hot rapid slide, as close as he can get without— without—

He opens his mouth, says “You should— you should let me fuck you, in here. So everyone would know, would hear. Let me put it in you,”

Marc convulses, “God,” He swears, cheeks red, and comes gasping, shooting over Vale’s fist, getting them messy. And it's the sight of his come, staining up the pretty red of his Ducati team shirt that sticks in Vale’s mind, too much, and hurtles him over the edge, a gut punch of a sensation, mouth open around a curl of Marc’s hair, sweat dripping down his back.

[haroldthehuckleberry]

Step-Son MPreg

CW- mpreg, sex, language, Step-Son X Step-Dad storyline

I always fancied my step-dad since i met him i thought he was hot, hes a classic himbo, hes tall, muscly, blonde and stupid as can be.

I never knew if he was purposefully flirting with me of was just too stupid to understand it was wrong, but it being wrong made me so horny, id often wank off after he’d compare our hand sizes, snuggle up to me or even bend over to empty the dishwasher, anything and everything he did turned me on so hard! he always wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination, short-shorts, crop-tops or no tops! My actual dad loved this about him and it made me so jealous seeing them cuddle and kiss and then one day… my dad went on a business trip. it was now or never.

i came downstairs in my dressing-gown and boxers showing off my abs and mediocre pecs i walked into the living room to my step-dad half asleep on the couch only in his briefs and white running socks, sweating and scratching his perfect body when he saw me he woke up a little and pushed a finger into his underwear suggestively “oh… hey man” he said in a gruff half awake voice “h-hey” i stammered taken aback by how horny he already seemed my cock visibly swelled in my already tight boxers. he glanced down to it quickly and blushed “come here pal i have something to show you” he said gesturing for me to walk over- i follow his orders and sit next to him, he places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep long kiss. i rest my hand on his groin and feel his cock twitch and harden through his pants i then slowly kiss his neck, then his chest, then his abs until his beautiful totem-pole of a cock is in-front of my face. i confidently slip it all into my throat in one go and he lets out a little moan.

i suck him off for what feels like an hour before he pulls me up by my armpits and spins me around, he lifts my dressing gown up and squeezes my ass before bending me over the couch as he teases my underwear down making my cock twitch due to the prolonged friction, he then rubs the head of his penis along the outside of my un-used hole while i beg for his cock i then moan loudly as he slides it all in at once. he grabs the hair on the back of my head and holds my cock in the other one of his massive veiny hands his expert technique instantly turns me into a worthless hole only purpose is to please him, after a few hours of fucking and cumming we fall asleep on the couch naked together.

after a few more days of constant fucking, sucking and cumming my real dad comes home and we have to start being discrete, doing it in one of our cars or while hes away or even just quietly under the kitchen table, the closer he is, the hotter we find it.

after months of this i notice a small ball in the centre of my stomach while getting dressed i think nothing of it and carry on and on until its too obvious to hide under baggy clothes, i tell people im just bulking cause i want to build mass, i wanted to believe it but me and my step dad knew it was more.

his cum must be super-human i quickly became the biggest pregnant person id ever seen i stuck to my story but less and less people believed it that was when my dad confronted me “hey buddy!” he said putting his head around my door into my room as i lay weighted down by my planet-belly, “ive noticed that your clearly pregnant” i try to sit up and defend myself but it takes me far to long to even start bending my mid-section “you dont need to deny it i know what it looks like-you where one hell of a baby! anyway i was just wondering who the daddy was and if hes in the picture” i knew he was asking because my other dad was never in the picture “well erm he kind of is” i finally admit rubbing my tight taught skin “its m-my step dad” i say defeated. “no fucking way!” my dad says more surprised than angry he finally steps fully in my room without a shirt on revealing his own pretty-large pregnant belly…

[discordiansamba]

"hello. kou here."

katara just knocks the asshole right off his feet. not so bad at water whips now, is she?

the pirate groans as he sits up and admits that yeah, he probably deserved that. bato just looks confused. have you two met?

"yeah," katara says dryly, "-we've met."

and to think- the evening had been going so great. they'd been able to reunite with bato, a man katara thought of like an uncle- only to find one of the last people she wanted to see waiting for them back at the abbey. the fact that he was a pirate was bad enough- but he was also fire nation and a waterbender.

"look," the pirate holds up his hands, "-i'm not here to cause any trouble."

katara has half a mind to tell him to move along, but aang stands in the way. c'mon, katara. kou's not that bad. he's the one who helped rescue me from that stronghold, remember?

"...fine," katara says slowly, "-but i'm only listening to you because aang wants me to."

the pirate- kou- exhales and stands up. he bends the excess water right off him, causing bato to do a double-take. yeah. she'd had a similar reaction when he'd stolen her water whip right out from under her. between the gold eyes, pale skin, and the red clothes, he was clearly fire nation. so why in tui's name was he a waterbender?

"i'm here to pass a message on to the avatar," kou says, "-the fire nation is planning a large scale assault on the north pole, lead by admiral zhao."

katara's blood runs cold.

then she narrows her eyes. how do you know this? kou just rolls his visible eye. does it even matter? it's going to happen, regardless of where he got the information from. anyways, that's all i came here for, and i know when i'm not welcome. bye.

katara's ready to glare daggers into his retreating back, but aang stops him for some reason. it's late, he says- you shouldn't travel in the dark! kou heaves a long sigh and visibly recognizes a fight he's not winning- and she'll admit it. aang can be very persuasive when he wants to be. bato quietly asks how they met, and katara rolls her eyes and says he's a pirate.

"yeah," sokka helpfully adds, "-that she stole a waterbending scroll from."

bato teases out the story as they eat- which for some reason, kou is invited to. he arches a brow at the katara's thievery, and shoots kou a look when it's revealed the captain of his ship wanted to sell her to the fire nation. kou just shrugs and says yeah. his captain loves selling people out, apparently. that's why he can't go back to his ship anymore.

(aang just looks guilty.)

sokka's the one who bites the bullet and asks why he's a waterbender.

"don't know," is all kou says, "-i was just born this way."

"is one of your grandparents from the water tribe, perhaps?" bato asks.

"nope," kou says, "-all fire nation. father wasn't too happy about it."

katara huffs. yeah. she'll bet.

she also can't help but note the way aang looks a little green. he's staring at kou's eyepatch- and with a sudden burst of clarity, katara puts two and two together. she's pretty sure he's not just wearing it for the aesthetic. but if that's true, that's... awful.

she can't help but feel more than a little petty. she should have realized that a waterbender from the fire nation couldn't have had an easy life. she'd just been so angry over the idea of someone who looked like kou being a better waterbender than her that she hadn't stopped to even consider it.

...she probably should have, she thinks.

[eroticdarling]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 PRIVATE ROOM.ᐟ

[ PAIRING ] SeasonOne!Ban x Stripper!PocFem!Reader

[ SYNOPSIS ] It's a regular day at the club until one of your customers who's been invested in you invites you to the private room

[ CONTENT WARNINGS ] Porn With Plot 𖹭 Use Of AAVE 𖹭 Dick Riding 𖹭 Cock Drunk 𖹭 Choking 𖹭 Marking 𖹭 Overstimulation 𖹭 Ass Slapping 𖹭 Pet Names 𖹭 Rough Sex 𖹭 Soft Sex 𖹭 Teasing 𖹭 Fingering 𖹭 Oral Sex 𖹭 Face Fucking 𖹭 Hair Gripping 𖹭

[ WORD COUNT ] 2.8K

[ A/N ] S/N = Stripper Name | N/N = Nickname |F/C = Favorite Color

"You all make some noise for our MVP! S/n!" The DJ yelled through the mic, hyping up the crowd as you walked on the stage wearing a Five Piece Rhinestone Bikini Top including a G-String Garter Skirt, Gloves, and Stockings with elegant black pump heels to match.

The DJ started to play Angels in Tibet by Amaarae as you scanned the room, seeing it was a full house tonight while the crowd was already cheering and chanting your name. The cheers from the people didn't give you confidence because you already had it, knowing you were going to kill the performance.

You walked towards the pole, swaying your hips while sensually rubbing your body, getting into the song.

When Amaarae's first verse came, you jumped onto the pole, doing a few of your signature tricks that made everyone go wild. The way your body moved to the rhythm, flowing with the music, had people in amazement.

In the first chorus of the song, you slid off the pole, twirling upside down slowly with your hands out. When your hands touched the floor, you did a half backbend since your legs were still hooked onto the pole, then unraveled your legs, allowing you to do a cartwheel into a split.

You were the only one who had people leaving with excitement, itching to come back the next day. To be completely honest, since your style of dancing was unique, it caused you to be the center of attention.

It made you feel proud of yourself because of how much money you were getting and how people acknowledged your year's worth of going through this whole journey on your own.

Even if people thought stripping was for negative reasons, you still were positive about it.

You get yourself out of the split position, laying to where your body was facing the crowd before lifting your legs, then rubbing your hand down in between them as you spread yourself so no one would see your clothed vagina.

You closed your legs, slowly got up on your feet bending your knees, and did a hip-shimmy to the music.

The money was being thrown on you like rain, and a guy seated in the middle front row caught your eye.

He had a very tall demeanor, a muscular man with pale tan skin who possessed a set of well-developed abdominal muscles. He had short, spiky, pale blue hair and thin black eyebrows with scarlet-red eyes.

On the left side of his jaw and extending down to his neck, he had a large scar.

He wore a red leather jacket and pants with metal studs sewn into both, along with shoes of a similar yet darker color. You could see the fox tattoo located above his waist on his left side.

The man's clothes were decent, but his face made up for it, to say the least, not to mention he was manspreading with his elbow on the chair, his hand resting on his chin, which made him even more attractive.

The way he was looking at you made you want to tease him throughout your dance, and that's exactly what you did.

When the last chorus came, you unhurriedly got back down onto the ground with your back arched pressing your chest on the cold stage floor, making the dance seductive while maintaining your gaze, obviously sending him hints.

Hearing just the instrumental, you got up and heard the DJ on the mic again say, "Make some noise one more time for the real exotic dancer, S/N!" DJ Mayday exclaimed as you picked up all your money.

You looked back at the guy, receiving a sly smirk from him before walking off stage.

Making your way towards the dancers' locker room to count your money, you go inside seeing the other dancers either retouching their makeup or changing.

"Hey, N/n," one of the girls named Fenris greeted you, having a country accent everyone in here loved.

"Hey, Fenny baby," you take a seat already, getting your money out to count every hundreds, twenties, tens, fives, and ones.

Today, you made seven hundred dollars from the first dance alone, so you knew the rest of the night was going to end great. Plus, the change from serving tables today since the club was short-staffed was going to be cool, too.

After counting, you put your money in your F/c bag before doing the code to your locker, making sure no one saw it, then putting your bag inside, and lastly, locking it back.

"So whatcha doin' now, miss exotic sweetheart?" Teixeira asked as you changed into your outfit afterward, grabbing your long coat to put over it with thigh-high stockings because the club was starting to get cold as fuck.

"Playin' waitress and serving these tables since we're short-staffed today." You explained adding the criss-cross-patterned strapped, red bottom heels to match the full outfit and coat nicely.

The dark-skinned girl gave you a sarcastic gasp at the response, "Whaat? Now why dey got you doin' all that? My dance is comin' up right now, so I'll help you when I'm done." She touched up her hair, getting ready to leave.

"Oh my gosh. That would be very appreciated." You matched her energy, smiling as she left to get on stage.

Leaving the locker room, you went straight to the bar so you could start your job.

After being at six or seven tables Neniko, who was one of the guys working at the bar and just so happened to be your favorite, stopped you. "N/N! Come here, girl." He signaled you to come over with a smile.

"Yeah, Neki?" you asked.

"A fine ass man just came by asking for a private dance in room 6, specifically for you." He replied in a flirty yet playful way.

You then remember the guy you saw earlier, instantly thinking it might be him, "Thank you, babe. Also, make sure to let Xeira know where I'm at because she was going to help me with the tables after her dance." You told him.

"You welcome sugar, and I'll tell her. Oh! Don't forget to get some tonight 'cause he looks worth breakin' the rules." Neniko exclaimed making you smile.

"Don't worry about that. Imma makes sure he gets what he wants." You say in a sensuous voice, before walking off.

(For this part, you can have a song of choice because I couldn't choose one.)

Your heels were clicking on the floor as you walked to the private room where you'd been called. When you finally got there, you opened the door, seeing the guy from before manspreading once again on the long couch with both arms resting on top of it.

Knew it. You thought to yourself.

"You sure took your sweet time." His voice was deep but squeaky, scanning your body as you fully walked in, locking the door behind you.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting. I got a little held up." You made up an excuse, already looking at about one grand on the medium-sized table in front of him.

You walked towards him, noticing he looked even better up close while thinking about how fuckable he appeared.

"Well, I better get my money's worth," he said.

"Don't worry, honey, you will." Your voice was laced with honey as you reassured him with a smile.

Taking off your coat, reveal a beautiful red two-piece Balcony Empire Laced Top and Strappy Bikini. You threw the coat to the side, then got onto the small stage.

You got on the metal rod, doing a few tricks that have never been seen. While you were dancing, you could see how he stared at you like eye candy, mesmerized by the way you moved.

When you finished up, you walked off as your ass swayed with your hips to give him a lap dance.

Walking up, you slowly got onto the floor and crawled to him with temptation filling your eyes, making him readjust his sitting.

As you were right in between his legs, you slowly got up, beginning to rub up his thighs to his chest, eyes still locked on each other.

He then held up your chin and leaned down, his lips meeting your ear. "The name's Ban." He softly whispered, earning a confused eyebrow raise.

"Why do I need your name?" You asked.

"Cause that's what you're going to scream out for me," Ban said, his voice filled with boldness, already having you feel slight tingles going through your private area.

"And don't worry, here's a tip." He took out another stack of cash from his pocket, but before he could place it on the table, you stopped him, putting it back.

"No need for a tip, sir. Like I said before, you'll get your money's worth." You spoke in a sultry tone.

"The floor's all yours then, Foxy."

"It's Y/n." You retort sternly, disliking the nickname.

"Whatever, Y/n." He was being sarcastic but still allowed you to fully stand up to straddle over him.

No touching the dancers or sex was allowed in the club, but you took it upon yourself to listen to Neki, taking his advice because he was right. This man was worth it and an exception you were willing to take.

He then began to move his large hands from your waist down to your half-bare, plush ass, making you feel a small shockwave go down your spine from how cold they were.

His hands then roamed up to your bra, permitting him to remove all the pieces of your clothing before you took off your shoes, leaving you exposed.

"Damn, Foxy, you look gorgeous like this." He praised pulling his pants down enough to let his erection go.

He then wasted no time grabbing your hip with one hand, aligning his aching cock with your wet pussy before allowing you to slowly sink, making you both gasp.

You were bouncing on his cock as he was holding your ass, thrusting deeper into your fluttering walls. Your nice moans were low, filling his ears as he gripped your ass then took one hand off to slap it.

"Feel good, hm, baby?" He questioned you, wanting an answer.

"Yes, you feel so good, Ban." You moaned, his name rolling off your tongue.

"What's my name, sweetheart? Say it louder for me." His pace fastened, wanting to hear you call out his name.

"Ban! It's Ban!" Your lewd moans progressively got louder.

He then stopped moving his hips to let you take control. Your hips moved back and forth in a steady rhythm. You were teasing him, going fast, then slow and back fast, making him feel like heaven.

He put his long fingers in his mouth before going down to your needy clit, massaging it, jolting from the sudden pleasure. Your hands found their way onto his already unbuttoned chest for leverage. His thrusts, including fingers, were too much for you to bear, already feeling your orgasm come close.

"Ban, I'm about to cum." You warned, making him stop touching you, getting you off his cock before flipping you over on the couch and laying you on your back.

Suddenly going back into your walls, feeling even more pleasurable than before, until you couldn't take it anymore since it started to be too much.

"T-too much—B-Ban!" You managed to moan out as you put your hands on his abdomen, trying to force him to stop or slow down.

"Don't worry, Foxy, I'll make sure you can take it all." He smirked, grabbing both of your wrists with one hand, and pinning them above your head.

His thrusts grew rougher, hitting the G-spot as your body reacted to every sensation in a pornographic way. Your moans, including his groans, reverberated throughout the room.

Ban free hand explored your body as he kept his rhythm, pushing you to your edge. Bending down, he kissed your lips hungrily as you kissed back, letting him swallow your candied moans, turning it into a makeout session.

He broke the kiss to lick down your neck, then sucked on it, giving you a noticeable hickey before sinking his teeth over it. The pain was tolerable, and it made you feel delightful. Tears were forming at the corners of your eyes from how blissful he was fucking you as if he never experienced it before.

Staring at you as he bit his bottom lip, he felt himself twitching as he gripped your wrists. The other hand stopped rubbing you, making its way up to grip your neck.

Not even you could explain the thrusts he was putting into his hips, allowing the whole couch to move. If this was a bed, he would most definitely break the headboard. Maybe the bed if he did it hard enough.

"Where do you want me to cum? On you? In you? Pick one." He grunted.

You couldn't think properly being in an incoherent and libidinous state due to you being cock drunk, clearly seeing it, he decided for you.

"I guess since you're too cock drunk, I'll pick for you." He said as he kept going until he could feel your abused pussy clench onto his cock for dear life.

"Ladies first, then." He had a change of mind, removing his hand from your neck and leaving a mark behind.

Roughly circling your clit made you arch your back even more. You could feel that knot loosen up in your lower abdomen. With one more final thrust, your orgasm coated the base of his cock in a ring form. He let you take a breath before thrusting again, looking for his high next.

After a few minutes, he found his orgasm, except before he came, he pulled you off and got you up by your wrists.

You prop yourself on your knees so he could stuff his cock in your mouth as both hands gripped your hair, putting your throat to good use. You could taste your juices from when he fucked you, swirling your tongue around his dick as you both worked together in perfect synchronization.

"F-fuck, Foxy, even your mouth feels perfect," he shuddered from the satisfaction.

As his heavy balls slapped against your chin while drool escaped your lips. Your gaze was more focused on the man in front of. Feeling his cock twitch made you start using your hand, getting a reaction out of him, groaning when you gripped his cock and used your mouth faster.

Pushing your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick, you could feel his hot cum shoot down your throat. He was still gripping your hair with his head leaning back, eyes rolling back, and his bottom lip a tinted red from how hard he was biting it.

It was a beautiful view, to be honest.

"Now swallow." He caught his breath to say.

You did what was told, swallowing the rest of his semen. After you both sat up on the couch to properly catch y'all breaths, you laid down with your head resting on his chest.

"Have you done this before?" Ban asked out of curiosity, receiving a stare from you.

"I would never do this with anyone, especially in a club." You strictly said, remembering how some guys here wanting ass either have stank attitudes or unhygienic.

"Well, you just did, babe," he reminded you, followed by a laugh.

"You were an exception. Remember that." You said to get up to put your clothes and shoes back on.

"I'll never forget." He got up, putting on his clothes. You put on your coat, then grabbed the money off the table, walking to the door to see Ban had it open for you already.

"Ladies first." He smirked as you walked out first, with him following behind.

You both went downstairs while making small talk before he left the club through the front exit. After finally clocking out since you and Ban fucked until it was time to leave, you felt something in your pocket.

When you checked your coat pockets, you saw that Ban sneaked the money he was trying to tip you with in your side pocket with a note including a number written on it.

'Call me when you want more, Foxy.' The note read as you smiled to yourself power walking to the dancer's locker room to get your stuff.

"Soo, how did it go?" Neniko asked waiting for you as you grabbed your stuff out of the locker. 

Seeing that you both were the only ones here, you decided to show him the note, "Okay, I see you, Foxy!" Neniko cheered, giving you the nickname that made you cringe.

"Thank you, Neki, but don't ever say Foxy again. It's cringy." You made a cringe face, exiting the club with him following you behind.

"Alright, I'll let your new bae call you that, but Xeira is pissed for leaving her." He laughed, making you roll your eyes at the 'bae' comment.

"I bet, and let's keep the private room between us."

"Don't worry, sugar, I know." He reassured you as you both did your signature handshake before going inside your car to leave.

[yuwuta]

PETITION!!!!!! FOR THE ATLA X JJK STUFF!!!! OMG NOW I HAVE A BRAINROT love this idea sm.....

i have SOOOO many ideas you have no idea how near and dead atla is to me… i could rant about this day and night…. reader’s bending or non-bending abilities always change in the au for me, but i feel very strongly about everyone’s bending abilities teehee…. except satoru… i can pickle many aus for satoru bc that’s pookie <3

firebender reader that captures airbender yuuta to take him back to the fire nation as a reward and honestly he should fight back, he could fight back, and he probably shouldn’t blush when you’re rough with him, but you’re really pretty and stubborn and sure the ropes you put around his hands and ankles are really tight but it could have been worse. and you haven’t burned or scarred him, and you even give him some of fish you capture and cook along the way, so maybe you don’t really hate him that much. it’s so much of yuuta nervously rambling as you two travel and you not responding, but that doesn’t stop yuuta, nor does it deter him from thinking that you’re not all bad. clearly you’re strong and determined and you believe capturing him with worth something so he kinda…. let’s it be (also he thinks he’d lose a fight to you) and somewhere along the way he gets the courage to point blank as you why you’re taking him and i’d love to say he talk no jutsus you into not turning him in but also love the idea of someone else attacking you and yuuta turning on the airbending to choke them out which is insane bc you’ve done nothing but capture him but who’s to say that’s not a form of love too xoxo

or we can consider you and megumi growing up in the south pole together, it’s a small town so it’s not a coincidence that you two become friends, even if megumi is a little gruff at first. you two do everything together, even though your water bending abilities start to differ as you get older—you become much more mischievous, while megumi becomes focused on precision and healing. it’s why, despite the tradition being father and son to go out hunting, toji takes you out to sea to go ice fishing and you always run back home to megumi with your capture in hand, damn near tackling him every time and happily proclaiming you caught his favorite; and every time he tells you to calm down and not cause a scene, but you don’t, and toji and his mom chuckle as you tackle him and megumi tries to blush and wrangles you into a seat inside while he helps his mom with dinner. and really, all is well until some snobby prince from another town claims that your family is indebted to his and that you’re betrothed as collateral and everyone finds out very quickly that even though megumi spent all his time focusing on healing, that he’s still toji’s son and can make one hell of a tsunami if it calls for it. (and when the storm, literally, passes, megumi huffs as he digs through his belonging and stuffs a necklace in your hand and all you can do is blink and wonder what’s going on while his mom snickers in the background and winks at you “i think that’s a proposal, dear.”)

orrrrrr even though i firmly believe in airbender satoru superiority, i do make an exception for stealing yue’s plot line and making satoru a waterbender and prince who’s hair is only white because he blessed and saved by the moon spirit when he was very young. ofc, that’s not enough to make him nearly as humble as he should be, and satoru spends all his days ignoring his princely duties and bothering you and a nanami instead, ditching his masters and servants in favor of pouting at you to teach him your skills instead because satoru wholly believes his duty is not to serve as the bridge between his people and the moon, but instead to annoy you and hopefully make you mrs half-moon someday

[kingschclar]

hello !! congrats on 300 followerss

may i request ruggie who learns a pole dancing/strip routine as a way to “earn money” (or so he says) and he performs it for the reader as a way to tease them

the reader eventually gets fed up and bends him over, you can decide what happens next

tysm if you decide to write this, if not i understand:) i love your works

lapdance

contains: aged up chara, sub!ruggie, amab!reader, possessive!reader for the bit protective!reader after sex, lingerie, ripping clothes, lapdancing, striptease, grinding

a/n — yes.. the title is based off a song.. (lapdance by N.E.R.D) but the fic has nothing much to do with it! also hope you enjoy this anon bc 300 was like a year ago 😭

You tapped your foot on the ground as you waited for your boyfriend to walk out of the bedroom. He’d told you that he’s picked up on some new “skills” to help him earn money, and wanted to keep it a surprise from you until he could “show you them himself”. You were impatient, or more like excited as you waited for the beastman to come out with the surprise.

“Are you ready?” He called out from your shared room, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, I’m ready,” you quip in return, hearing the sound of… heels? Clacking against the floor and edging closer to you. You gulped as Ruggie entered your field of vision, almost feeling your heart stop beating in your chest as you took the sight of him in. He stood in pretty lacy heels, seemingly a matching set with his baby blue lingerie, wrapping around his lean body and freckled skin. His cockhead peeked out the filmsy fabric, and you felt your breathing hitch. He donned a translucent shawl over the whole outfit, almost angelic if not downright sinful. He looked breathtaking, seductive like never before as he let your eyes ravish him. He was blushing a bit, most probably from the intensity of your gaze as he walked up to you ever so slowly.

“Like it so much that you’re speechless?” He teased, grinning toothly as he leaned over your sitting form. You snapped out of your trance, reaching forward to place your hand on his hips. He let himself settle between your legs, still standing and looking down at you as he did so.

“Shit, Rugs, you look so good,” you could hear the badly disguised lust in your voice as you let your eyes rake down his frame yet again. “But what kind of gig is this for?”

“Well, I may or may not have learnt a strip routine,” he started, grin widening as your smile faltered slightly. He was starting to get to you. “And I want you to see it before anyone else.” Before you could come up with a protest, Ruggie took a few steps back, and you cursed yourself for wishing that he’d turn around and let you see the rest of him.

From seemingly nowhere, he whipped out his phone, sensual music spilling from the speakers as he began the routine. You could tell that he was slightly embarrassed, but your eyes physically couldn’t focus on anything else but your boyfriend, fingers teasing over the thin lace of the lingerie and letting the shawl slide off his shoulders with faux clumsiness. He took his sweet time undressing, teasing, swaying, as he inched closer to you. When he was finally in front of you, the bra was discarded, the only piece of clothing left being the lacy, almost thong-like panties settling snugly on his hipbones. You could see that he was half hard, and you wanted wanted nothing more but to suck him off until he’s shaking and crying.

Your thoughts were cut short as he began to straddle your waist, crotch hovering just above yours as he grinded circles into the air. You looked up into his eyes to see that they were twisted upwards in a smug smile. It made you snap, hands once again finding purchase in his hips to plant him against you firmly. Ruggie let out a surprised gasp before it faded to a soft moan, his cock filling with blood as you rutted against him with need.

“I guess you r-really liked it,” he stuttered slightly, voice almost getting caught in his throat as he felt you kiss and suck at his neck.

“You knew I would.” The sentence came out strained, the sensation was just not enough.

To his surprise, you picked him up with some sort of newfound strength, heading straight for the dining table as you set him down. At some point, he leaned in to kiss you and you kissed him back sloppily yet passionately. You pulled away after a minute or so, leaving him breathless and flushed.

“Turn around, baby,” you ordered gently, working on getting your pants off you while you trusted him to follow your simple instruction. He seemed to be as eager as you were, hopping off the table and facing his ass towards you almost immediately. You could finally see his short, fluffy tail, shaking in anticipation along with the rest of him. It was tucked comfortably in a hole in the fabric, and you didn’t understand how the whole thing didn’t just fall apart when he put it on.

After a short struggle, you finally pulled your cock out, groaning as it met the slightly colder air. Ruggie was silently waiting, but you could tell that he’d wanted this just as much as you. With a firm grip, you grabbed onto the panties and a loud rip echoed through the room. He gasped, and you were almost sure his dick twitched as he squirmed in his place.

“Those were new,” he murmured as you kissed his shoulders.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” you hummed, reaching around to tap at his lips.

“Just fuck me already,” he whined, pushing his hips back onto your cock. He was tempting you, but you reasoned with yourself.

“I would love to, baby, but I have to get you ready first,” you tapped on his lips again, and he shook his head. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all.

“Already did.” He almost sounded embarrassed as he let his head fall, propping himself up on his wrists and waiting for you to take a look for yourself. Practically burning a hole through his figure, you pressed a finger against his hole, watching it flutter and your finger slide in with little resistance. He was already slightly lubed up, stretched out and all ready for you to fuck this whole time.

You couldn’t take it anymore, the sight his brand new lingerie tattered and ripped on the floor, his hole all ready for you.

With haste, you pulled your finger out just to replace it with your cock, pushing in at a decent pace but making sure you weren’t hurting Ruggie (too much, at least). It ripped a whine out of him as his nails scratched against the dining table, his back arching so prettily as he cried out for you. “Really gonna show this to others, hmm?” You tutted, shifting your angle slightly so you were nailing his prostate with every thrust. He let out a broken whimper as his hand reached down to jerk at his cock furiously. “Answer me, Rugs,” you commanded, acommpanied with a flick to his sensitive ears. A desperate whimper escaped him as he shook his head.

“No! Only you!” Correct answer. He clenched around you and you could tell by his wagging tail that he was dangerously close. Reaching around, you stopped his hand, replacing it with yours as you gripped the base of his cock tightly. Ruggie let out a pitiful sound as a fist banged against the table.

“Be patient, baby,” you cooed. “Don’t you want to cum with me?” He immediately tried to get it together, nails digging into the meat of his palm as he nodded vigorously. It sounded like a promise that you’d cum in him, and he’d rather die than pass up the chance of it. He then remembered to always use his words, barely managing to croak out an “I do”. You grinned weakly, speeding up your ruthless thrusts as you chased your own orgasm.

After another few more thrusts, you let go of Ruggie’s cock, making him convulse with pleasure as he came, whining out your name. The sight alone sent you over the edge as you buried yourself inside him completely, letting your cum paint his walls as the fuzzy feeling of your climax washed over you in waves.

You two stood there for another minute or two when the shockwaves died down, both panting and recovering stamina as you tried to process what’d just happened. You carefully pulled out of Ruggie, your cum dripping out making him groan tiredly.

“Didn’t think you’d like it that much,” he joked, his usual grin coming onto his face as he turned around to look at you. You laughed a bit, caging him against the table as you pressed a soft kiss onto his lips.

“Of course I would. You’re my beautiful boyfriend,” you chided playfully, and he was almost shy at your affection, but basked in it. Then, you remembered what he’d said before, worry rising in your gut.

“Rugs?” He hummed in question. “You’re not… actually going to do this for money right?” His eyes widened by a fraction before he started laughing a bit.

“No! No! I was just teasing you, silly,” he snickered, and you couldn’t help but let out a huge sigh of relieve. “And wow, you might have to carry me to the bathroom because my legs are going to crumble the moment I try to walk.”

[lialucis]

More wolf!Price x Polar Bear!Nikolai for @panchulien I FUCKING TOLD YOU I'D DO THE THING!!

Another small growl echoed from Price, his ears shoved hastily under an oversized beanie. Tail tucked between his legs, he wasn't scared, not at all. There was no safer place then where he was at the moment. It was just. Fucking. COLD. Already half tucked under the massive polar bear next to him, humming away happily as those damn rounded ears wiggled. A volun-told, leave by none other than Kate Laswell. A leave that had the two men, one wolf freezing his tail off, and one polar bear still mending from the chunk ripped out of his side. Nik had continuously escaped the med bay, lumbering around like a drunken sailor. Grunting and growling at new recruits causing them to flee from the chuckling Russian as the man in question, without fail, would find Price. Again and again, wanting cuddles(read forcefully taking them and falling asleep), with Price.

How this lead to ice fishing he wasn't sure, and he would complain and bitch but... Glancing to his right. The half lidded Russian sat on the log with Price, a soft smile on his lips. Ears wiggling and tail surely doing the same. He couldn't complain, not with how content and relaxed his friend was. Both men with a line in the cold water, enjoying the others presence, the shared warmth. How that damn bear didn't need a coat was beyond hi-

"You are still shivering. Do you not like?" Those soft warm eyes of Nikolai would be looking down adoringly at Price. Instinctively causing the wolf's ears to pin low, feeling a bit guilty and defensive.

"I never said tha-"

"You do not have to my дорогой друг(dear friend)." The man would sigh, shifting a bit to press his own warm body to the wolf.

"If I didn' want to be here Nik, I-"

"You would." The bear would interrupt yet again, tilting his head to rest it against Price's head. Little ears wiggling against his beanie. "You should complain more."

"Laswell says I complain too much." Price would scoff, raising his mitten clad hand to rub at his red face. It was cold, nothing else.

"I do not think so. Go, tell me your жалобы(complaints)." Nik would hum, grip slack on the cheap fishing pole in his oversized paws.

Price would stay quiet for a bit longer, tail flicking in annoyance. He had a long list he could complain and rant about, such as: it's cold, you're hurt, you should be somewhere warm, you should be resting, you're exerting yourself too much... And so much morez but the only thing that escaped his mouth- "damn fish could bite..."

That deep deep laugh, rising from the bottom of his belly and out, a booming laugh. From the bear next to him. If the fish weren't scared before, surely they were now. But this, this wasn't something Price would ever complain about.

"Of all things, fish? You complain, the fish do not bite?" Nikolai would laugh out his own cheeks red as he grinned down at Price with those sharp teeth. "мой дорогой друг, мне это в тебе нравится."

A huff from Price, eyes narrowing as his ear flicked, squinting at Nikolai. Rolling through the Russian he had heard from the man so many times, trying to grasp the Russian the man was chuckling out in that honey like voice. "Nik, I've told you to speak English, it's too cold to think."

"Then I will say it again, you have been learning much." Nikolai would rumble out, those rosy cheeks still crinkled in mirth. Eyes lighting up when he saw Price jump. The wolf hybrid snapping his attention to his bending rod.

"Nik! I have a bite!" The wolf would bark out in shock, tail now wagging excitedly. As he bolted to his feet, grumbling under his breath as he tried to remember how to reel the fish in without losing it. He was going to go home with a fish even if he had to hit the damn market on the way home.

A soft hum, warm brown eyes watching the tense and overworked grinning like a puppy as he fought the fish. Trying to reel it up through the small hole in the ice. Another wiggle of the bear's ears as he listened to that lovely laugh. He would need to thank Laswell for her help on this venture. "мой дорогой друг, мне это в тебе нравится." Nik would rumble out. (my dear friend, I love this about you.)

✨✨💖 Google translate for the unlearned heathen that is I. I have an urge to go fishing now. 💖 ✨ ✨

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 75

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They don't get a chance to see each other after the coronation. With the invasion over, and Zuko announcing his intents to pull out from the Earth Kingdom immediately, the forces occupying the city return home. Katara is swept up with the rest of the Southern warriors. Aang hovers over head, making sure that everyone leaves without issue.

Lieutenant Jee, however, follows them out with the Wani. When the Southern fleet separated from the Earth Army and the Northern fleet, the Wani followed. Katara scowled at Jee from the deck of her fathers boat.

"What are you doing, Captain?" She asked.

Jee seemed to find this amusing. "Just following orders, ma'am."

She hated it when they called her that.

They were at sea for days. It took so long to get anywhere when they weren't on Appa. She hated to admit it, but she was glad to have the Wani. At night, she and Sokka went onto the ship, and were given sleeping quarters to themselves. Katara was put in Zuko's old Captains Quarters, which Jee had never claimed.

"It's funny," Katara said one night, half way to the South Pole. "That both times I return home, it's on this ship, with this crew."

"It is," Jee said, sipping his tea. "But everyone here adores you. They're all happy to help you, because you've helped us so much already. We're all just as loyal to you as we are to Zuko." His gaze slid to the corner, where Rinzo and Taka were arguing about who would be taking first watch when they reached the tribe. "Well, maybe not all of us."

The joke did make her smile. "Your loyalty is split between your Fire Lord and some Water Tribe girl? Should I be worried about Zuko?"

Jee shot her a smile. "You and I both know you're not 'just some Water Tribe girl'. Everyone here knows it." He paused, watching her for a moment. "And we all know you'll become even more, someday."

"So you approve," Katara guessed, holding her cup tightly in her hands. "Of me becoming Fire Lady?"

That seemed to surprise Jee, who choked on his tea. "Wait. Zuko, did he...?"

She laughed, feeling a bit nervous now. She'd only told Suki about her vision, just the once, and then they hadn't talked about it again. "Not... exactly. We had ended up in the Foggy Swamp, just after leaving the Northern Water Tribe. I had a vision."

The Captain was staring at her. "Of... Of Zuko proposing?"

"Not in so many words," she said. "You know how he is, sometimes. And he was older. But, essentially, yes."

Jee looked at her for a moment, then down at his tea cup like he wasn't sure it was strong enough. Then, he looked up, frowning. "Are you going to say yes? When he does?"

She leaned back a little, looking up at the ceiling. A lantern swung gently above their heads. It was a little funny, that she couldn't feel the ship swaying with the waves, but this little lantern could.

Visions were a funny thing, too. Before the Foggy Swamp, she had adored Zuko, but she hadn't thought it was a possibility. He was a Prince, meant to be a leader of a nation, and she was... Jee had said she wasn't some Water Tribe girl, but she was. If she had never been taken away, her life would have been just that. Some Water Tribe girl.

She wouldn't have found Aang if she hadn't been trying to escape Rinzo and Taka's hovering. She wouldn't be a waterbending master without adapting firebending forms to suit her needs. She likely would have never left the South Pole. She would have been a random girl, with bending she couldn't use, in a tribe on the verge of extinction. How could she ever be enough for a prince?

But her vision, in that awful swamp, had opened her eyes to that possibility. Opened her eyes to the possibility that Zuko would want her. So she had looked, and found Zuko already looking back.

"If Zuko had asked me before we left," Katara said, closing her eyes. "I would have said yes. We'd have to wait a few years, but I would have said yes."

Maybe the vision was what her future would always be, or maybe it was what Zuko would have done if she had never gone into that swamp. Either way, if Zuko decided to ask, she was determined to let him know that her answer would always be yes.

"For now," she continued, as Jee stared at her. "I'm thinking I'll become the South Pole Ambassador to the Fire Nation. I just have to convince my dad that it's a good idea, not that he can stop me." Stifling a yawn, she got up, giving the man a polite bow. "It's been nice talking to you, Captain, but I think I'm heading to bed for the night."

As she walked off, she heard him take a loud sip of his tea, before announcing to the rest of the crew; "I need something a bit stronger. Who else wants some?"

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