#i need them in race suits half zipped off

[prettymfwrites]

𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙚𝙗

Caitlyn x vi x spidergirl reader

Request by: @twinklestarslight

▀▄▀▄ 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅 ▄▀▄▀

The night was calm, or as calm as it could get in the bustling streets of Piltover. Caitlyn and Vi were on their usual patrol, the chill of the air biting at their skin as they walked through the quieter parts of the city.

“Anything on your side?” Vi asked, glancing at Caitlyn, who was focused on her surroundings.

“Nothing yet. It’s been quiet—too quiet,” Caitlyn replied, her voice sharp with caution.

As if on cue, a loud crash echoed through the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of a fight. Caitlyn’s hand instinctively went to her rifle, and Vi cracked her knuckles with a grin.

“Looks like we spoke too soon,” Vi said, her voice tinged with excitement.

They sprinted toward the commotion, weaving through the alleys until they reached a large, open square. There, they saw her. A figure in red and blue, moving with impossible agility, flipping and swinging through the air as she dodged and countered a group of thugs.

“What the hell is that?” Vi whispered, eyes wide as she watched the masked woman.

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes. “Whoever she is, she’s handling them just fine.”

The two stood back, watching as Spidergirl finished the fight with a webbed-up finale, leaving the thugs dangling from a lamppost. The masked hero dusted off her hands before taking off into the night.

“Think we should’ve stepped in?” Vi asked, her gaze following the retreating figure.

“She didn’t seem to need our help,” Caitlyn said, though a flicker of curiosity danced in her eyes.

Unbeknownst to them, Spidergirl wasn’t heading back to some secret lair or hideout—she was heading home. To their home.

---

A Few Minutes Later

You slipped through the window of your shared home with practiced ease, peeling off your mask as you landed silently on the floor. Your muscles ached from the fight, and you were looking forward to a quiet night with Caitlyn and Vi—after a quick shower and some rest.

As you turned toward the bedroom, the sound of the front door opening froze you in place.

“They’re home early,” you muttered to yourself, your heart racing as you heard Vi’s voice.

“I still can’t get over that masked chick. Did you see how she moved?” Vi was saying as she kicked off her boots.

“I saw,” Caitlyn replied. “Something about her seemed... familiar.”

You barely had time to panic before the bedroom door creaked open. Caitlyn stepped inside, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto your figure.

“Who the hell—” Vi’s voice came from behind her, and she pushed past Caitlyn, her fists already clenched.

“Wait!” you yelled, raising your hands in surrender.

Caitlyn reached for the light switch, her movements slow and deliberate. The room flooded with light, and both women froze as they took in your appearance. Your suit, still half-zipped, and the mask dangling in your hand were dead giveaways.

“Surprise,” you said weakly, a nervous smile tugging at your lips.

Caitlyn’s gaze hardened. “You have some explaining to do.”

Vi, meanwhile, was pacing back and forth, her jaw clenched and her fists flexing. “Are you kidding me? All this time, you’ve been sneaking out and doing that?” she said, motioning wildly toward your suit.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “I was going to tell you—eventually.”

“When? After you got yourself killed?” Vi snapped, her voice rising.

Caitlyn stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Vi’s arm before turning back to you. “We’re not angry... yet. But we need to understand. Why didn’t you tell us?”

Your shoulders slumped, and you looked down at the mask in your hands. “I didn’t want you to worry. You two already deal with so much as Enforcers. I didn’t want to add to it.”

Vi let out a harsh laugh, stopping her pacing to glare at you. “Oh, yeah, because finding out like this is so much better.”

Caitlyn’s expression softened slightly, though her tone remained firm. “You should have trusted us. We could have helped, supported you.”

“I know,” you said quietly, meeting their eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

The room was silent for a moment before Vi threw up her hands. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, though her voice had lost some of its edge.

Caitlyn stepped closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. For now, you’re staying put. No more sneaking out tonight. Understood?”

You nodded quickly. “Understood.”

Vi groaned, running a hand through her hair. “This is gonna take some getting used to.”

You offered a small smile. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You better,” Vi muttered, though there was a hint of a grin tugging at her lips.

Caitlyn sighed, pulling you into a gentle hug. “You’re lucky we love you.”

You leaned into her, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “I love you too. Both of you.”

Vi joined the hug reluctantly, wrapping her arms around the two of you. “If you ever pull something like this again, I’m locking you in the house.”

You laughed nervously, knowing she wasn’t entirely joking.

_________

𝑰 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔! ❤

[swaggypsyduck]

Dear Football Clubs,

BRING BACK FOOTBALLERS ON GO KARTS!!!

sincerely,

footyblr

[matcha3mochi]

fast lane

gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru

🪼⋆｡𖦹°🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The racetrack was buzzing with excitement, the roar of engines deafening as the crowd cheered for their favorite racers. Among the contenders, two stood out: Suguru Geto, known for his smooth, calculated style, and Satoru Gojo, the reckless daredevil who raced as if the rules didn’t apply to him. Both were legends in their own right, but for you, they were more than just racers—they were your best friends, and lately, something more.

You had been part of their team for years now, working as an engineer and mechanic. The three of you were inseparable, with a history that stretched back to when Geto and Gojo were still rookies. The camaraderie between them had always been competitive, and that competitive edge often spilled over into your dynamic with them. Flirtations, teasing remarks, and the occasional glimmer of something unspoken had always danced between you, Geto, and Gojo. And now, it felt like things were on the verge of tipping over.

Standing in the pit, you watched them prepare for their next race. Gojo’s white and blue car gleamed under the sun, while Geto’s black and purple machine had an almost intimidating aura about it. Both were polar opposites in style, just like their drivers.

“You look nervous,” a familiar voice said from behind you.

You turned to find Gojo sauntering up, his racing suit half-zipped down to reveal a white undershirt clinging to his toned chest. His trademark grin was plastered on his face, hidden slightly behind his racing helmet that dangled from his fingers. The white hair falling messily around his head didn’t help your already weak composure.

“Why would I be nervous?” you shot back, trying to keep your cool as you fiddled with the tool in your hand. Gojo always had a way of getting under your skin—playful, cocky, but also so damn irresistible.

“You’re always nervous before our races,” Gojo teased, stepping closer until he was invading your personal space. His icy blue eyes flickered with amusement as he tilted his head. “Or is it because you’re worried I’ll leave Geto in the dust again?”

“Please,” Geto’s voice cut in smoothly from behind, his tone calm but edged with a bit of playful sarcasm. “You’ve been eating my dust since last season, Gojo.”

Geto approached, his dark hair neatly tied back, though a few strands had escaped, framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome. He was the opposite of Gojo in every way—quiet, reserved, and dangerously focused. The two of them, standing so close, with you caught in the middle, felt like being between fire and ice.

You let out a sigh, feeling the familiar tug of their banter. “You two never stop, do you?”

Geto gave you one of his rare, subtle smiles. “Can’t help it. I know how much you enjoy watching me win.”

Gojo leaned in closer to your other side, his breath brushing your ear. “Or maybe you just like seeing me push the limits,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “It’s more fun when there’s a bit of danger involved, isn’t it?”

Your heart stuttered at the attention. You had long since accepted the fact that you were caught between two forces of nature, each pulling you in different directions. And while the rivalry between them was playful on the surface, there had always been an undercurrent of something deeper, especially when it came to you.

“Well,” you said, trying to shake off the sudden heat crawling up your neck. “I just hope both of you make it to the finish line in one piece.”

Gojo laughed, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair. “Oh, I’ll finish alright. And when I do, maybe we can celebrate, just the three of us.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, the smallest of smirks tugging at his lips. “Only if you can keep up, Gojo. Wouldn’t want you to be too tired after losing again.”

You rolled your eyes at their bickering. “Alright, enough. Both of you need to focus on the race. Save the trash talk for afterward.”

Gojo winked at you before walking back to his car. “You’ve got it, boss. But I’ll be expecting a kiss for good luck before I start.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief, but before you could retort, Geto leaned in close, his voice low and smooth. “You should give me one too,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “You know I race better when you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the intensity in his voice. He was always quieter, more restrained, but moments like this? Moments where he turned his full attention on you felt like the world around you was narrowing to just the two of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not giving anyone anything until one of you wins.”

“Then we’ll both win,” Gojo called out, sliding into his car with a grin that could light up the entire track.

Geto’s smirk deepened as he straightened up, his dark eyes locking with yours before he finally turned to walk away. “You’d better keep your word.”

As the race began, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Engines roared to life, and the crowd erupted into cheers. You took your position at the pit, your heart racing as the cars sped off into the distance.

From the sidelines, you could feel the tension and excitement in the air. Gojo took the lead almost immediately, his car weaving through the competition with an exhilarating ease. You watched as he pushed his limits, taking risky turns that had you gasping in anticipation. He loved the thrill of the race, and you could see the joy written all over his face.

Meanwhile, Geto was playing the long game, maintaining his position a few cars behind. His eyes were sharp and focused, assessing every move of his competitors. It was mesmerizing to watch him strategize, calculating when to push forward and when to hold back.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, the thrill of their rivalry igniting something deep within you. This wasn’t just another race. It felt personal. The way both of them had looked at you before they started, the challenge in their eyes—it was as if this race had become about more than just who would cross the finish line first. It was about who would win... you. Each time Gojo took a daring risk, you felt yourself hold your breath, and every time Geto executed a perfect turn, you couldn’t help but cheer internally for him.

As they approached the final lap, the tension reached a fever pitch. Gojo and Geto were neck and neck, both pushing their cars to the limit. Gojo took a sharp turn, the tires screeching as he maneuvered dangerously close to the edge, while Geto followed, expertly handling his own car as he slipped into position beside him.

You could hardly breathe as they sped down the final stretch, engines roaring and tires squealing. The finish line was in sight, and the crowd was on their feet, screaming for their favorites. You stood at the edge of the pit, heart racing, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

As they crossed the finish line, the world seemed to hold its breath. In an instant, both cars shot past the checkered flag, and it was impossible to tell who had won. The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, and you found yourself rushing toward the pit. The officials were already debating the results, but it didn’t matter. For you, the race had been a tie from the start.

Both drivers pulled into the pit, their cars screeching to a halt. Gojo was the first to step out, pulling off his helmet and shaking his hair loose. He looked exhilarated, eyes bright as he jogged over to you.

“Told you I’d win,” he said with a cocky grin, but before you could reply, Geto stepped out of his car, calm as ever.

“Technically, it’s a tie,” Geto pointed out, but there was no irritation in his voice. In fact, there was something almost satisfied in his expression, as if he knew that neither of them could truly lose today.

You crossed your arms, trying to look stern, but the smile on your face gave you away. “You guys are impossible, you know that?”

Gojo stepped closer, his grin widening. “So, about that celebration…?”

Geto’s gaze darkened with a quiet intensity, and he stepped forward as well. “You made a promise, didn’t you?”

Caught between them again, you felt the familiar pull—the heat of their rivalry and the way they both looked at you, like you were the real prize they had been fighting for all along.

Maybe you were.

“Well,” you said with a teasing smile, “I guess I owe you both.”

Gojo chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Geto stood close on your other side, his hand brushing yours. “I think we can work something out.”

And in that moment, with both of them beside you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, they both had won.

[jusst-you-race]

sewis + 15 for the ask game if you're still doing that :))

i have nothing to say for myself with this one... i'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted... uhhhhhh smut under the cut :) this is very much based on me having been watching old seasons where they're both younger... anyway! prompt from this also i am really enjoying that i keep getting sewis prompts... am i a sewis writer now?

a kiss passionately (smut, 18+)

Lewis slams Seb against the wall, making him whine loudly. 

“Shut up, or someone will hear you.” Lewis pants as he mouths at the downy stubble on Seb’s jaw. His fingers are fumbling with Seb’s race suit, eagerly trying to get it undone so he can shove it off Seb’s shoulders. Eventually he succeeds with the zip, pushing at the material ineffectively as he’s distracted by the skin that’s exposed. He bites gently at where Seb’s neck and shoulder meet, tasting the salt of sweat on Seb’s skin. 

“Lewis, please,” Seb gasps, hands scrabbling at Lewis’ back. Lewis relents slightly, pulling back to let Seb breathe while he slides his race suit down his shoulders.

“I love how needy you get after a race.”

Seb attempts to glare at him but it comes out more like a pout and Lewis can’t help but press his thumb into Seb’s bottom lip. Seb’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth falls open on instinct. Lewis groans quietly, letting his thumb push into Seb’s mouth. Entranced, Lewis presses down on his tongue, feeling the muscle twitch beneath it. Seb whines again and Lewis looks up at his eyes, finding them open but half lidded. With their gazes locked, Seb closes his lips around Lewis’ thumb and slowly, deliberately, sucks. His mouth is warm and wet and Lewis becomes intensely aware of where he is achingly hard in his fireproofs.

“Jesus, Seb.” He pulls his thumb back, watching the line of spit connecting it back to Seb’s mouth intently.

Seb grins up at him from where he’s slumped back against the wall. He pats dazedly at Lewis’ race suit.

“This off now.” He lets his hand drop and shifts against the wall, making it very clear he wants to watch Lewis strip. Spoilt brat. Lewis indulges him anyway. He shucks the top half of his race suit and debates pulling off his fireproofs too, but they don’t have long, and he knows from experience how hard it is to get the sweat soaked top back on again. He leaves it on. Seb doesn’t seem to mind, palming absently at the front of his pants. 

For a moment they just stare at each other. Seb looks completely debauched, and Lewis loves how worked up he gets after a race. Today hadn’t even been a particularly good result for either of them, but Seb is young, and passionate, and Lewis is helpless to resist when he gets handsy on their way to their respective driver’s rooms. He’d do anything to get to see Seb like this.

Overcome with need, Lewis crashes his lips into Seb’s threading one hand into Seb’s mess of curls to tug gently, and sliding the other down to press Seb’s hand firmer into his erection. Seb whimpers, returning the kiss eagerly, but sloppily as he tries to grind up into the pressure of their hands. There’s too much spit, and Seb can’t stop panting, so it’s far from the best kiss he’s had, but Lewis knows he’s leaking anyway. 

Seb continues to grind up into their hands, hips jerking frantically as he lets out these little gasping whines that are driving Lewis insane. He grinds his own crotch into Seb’s hips, and continues to press messy kisses into his mouth. The noises Seb is making quickly get more frantic and higher pitched, until Lewis sucks on his tongue and Seb jerks violently in his hold. 

After a handful of seconds of twitching, Seb falls back against the wall, breaking away from the kiss to take in gulping breaths.

“Did you just…?”

Seb nods, grinning like a lazy cat. There’s no shame to be found despite the fact that he just came in his pants after a few minutes of heavy petting. Instead Seb just looks sated and relaxed, and far too pleased with himself. It’s hot.

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

Seb winks in response, before sliding down the wall to his knees, and Lewis has to grip himself so he’s not immediately following Seb over the edge.

[chaethewriter]

got a sweet asian chick

Jack Champion x South(east)Asian!reader

In which you and Jack have been dating for a while, and the two of you mutually agree to take the next step: meeting the family.

Word count: 4k

Warning: not proofread, english isn't my first language, rushed, lots of mistakes?

tagged: @viivvriv @genesis4545 @norrisgf @darkcrusadestrawberry @drxwstxrkxy

A/N: here you go Riah!! Enjoy reading everyone.🫶

"I think I'm sweating through my pants." Jack Champion was a confident man, usually able to mask his feelings with his goofy and silly behavior, but right for this instance, that silly demeanor was thrown out of the window as he stood in front of his home's mirror with shaking legs. He wore a black suit, the blazer a wrap plaid one as he topped it off with a black tie and dress shoes. "Baby, are you sure I shouldn't wear.. uhm.. your traditional clothing?" His lips were pursed as he forgot what it was called when he watched himself in the mirror. He was a white american, an entire different race than you and your family. Of course, that shouldn't matter at all, but he felt incredibly nervous. He was raised by his mother with respect and turned into a true gentleman, but he was afraid. Afraid he would fuck this up and make a fool out of himself. This was his first time meeting your relatives, after all. He felt nervous meeting your parents too, but they were quick to like him. Well, your mom. Your father was still protective when it came to you and boys, but that's how fathers will always be. Currently, the two of you were getting ready for your cousin's wedding. The loser of a cousin finally proposed to his now-fiancee, and you couldn't be happier for them. He was like a brother to you. This led to you asking Jack to be your date for the wedding, since he is your boyfriend and all. You understood that if he had declined, you had a huge family after all. You didn't even know 75% of the people, and you probably knew at least a hundred relatives. But to your surprise, Jack had agreed to accompany you, seeing it as the next step in your relationship. You saw your future in his eyes, after all. To say you were beyond excited was an understatement, finally sharing your culture with your boyfriend in the way it should be shown. Jack did know the basic stuff from visiting your home and eating with your parents, but they always tended to tone it down. This time, he could get the real experience. You were getting ready in his guestroom, as you had a ton of stuff to prepare for and needed all the space you could possibly use. From the other room, you replied to his question as you fixed your saree, "Jaanu (beloved), I'm sure of it. I would rather you introduce yourself as you, Jack Champion, my silly boyfriend. And that suit definitely screams your name." You looked at yourself in the mirror with the proudest look on your face as a few strands of your hair framed your face. The brown-beige colored shameen draped saree hugged your body as the jewelry on your wrists and neck were the cherry on top. Your earrings completed the outfit as a whole as they matched your makeup look. You bit your lip in satisfaction. You felt so beautiful in your own skin. But would Jack feel the same way?

"Wow," Jack stood in the dooropening, staring right into your reflection in the mirror as his jaw practically dropped to the floor. He was so used to you wearing acubi fashion: cargo pants, crop tops with half-zipped hoodies, that this side of you was such a shocker to him. Not a negative one, though. He walked up to you, still mesmerized by your beauty. His eyes checked you out from head to toe as he stood behind you, checking every curve and decoration on you. He slowly moved his hands to your waist, gripping your skin as he pushed you against him. The back of your head hit his chest as a blush covered your cheeks. You watched his expression through the mirror and his eyes held nothing but adoration and love, "You're so pretty. You're always so pretty and breathtaking, priya (beloved)." He had a funny American accent when he whispered the last part, but you couldn't help but blush. He took his time learning about your culture and your ways. Even though he was a busy man with his acting job, he always made time for you. Jack Champion was the man of everyone's dreams. And he was yours.

Your parents had picked you up from Jack's house, his mom begging him to take a lot of videos and pictures for her to relive the moment before the two of you had left. She couldn't help but make the two of you pose in front of the house, taking a ton of pictures of her son holding your waist as your hand were resting against his chest. Like the gentleman Jack was, he opened the cardoor for you to get seated. While in the car, you seated next to Jack in the backseat, your mother spoke up, "My dāmāda (son-in-law), how are you feeling? About the wedding?" A blush crept up on your cheeks at that nickname. Your mother took a liking to your boyfriend, and you couldn't be happier about how accepting she was. You had a feeling it happened after he told her about his job at such a young age, but the more he was around, the more she grew to like him for who he was. Your father thought different about it, though, as a grumble left his lips at the way your mother called your boyfriend. He did earn a smack from your mother in return. Jack brought his right hand to your thigh to caress it as his other hand moved to hold onto yours, his thumb rubbing your skin, "I can't lie. I'm pretty nervous, but also excited to get the real cultural experience with my girlfriend by my side." He was so cheesy, but you couldn't help but smile at his words.

From the rear mirror, your father watched how lovey dovey the two of you were being. Even though you tried your best to be as discreet as possible, your father would rather not have Jack in his car at all. Let alone him being so acceptable of the touches you shared. "Please keep your hands away from my d- ow priya (beloved)!" Your mother had slapped your father before he was able to finish his sentence. You shook your head as you gave Jack a reassuring smile, taking both his hands and holding them in your lap. He gave you a smile in return as he played with your fingers, something he did whenever he needed to calm down. You leaned closer to him as you pulled one of your hands away from his grip to stroke the strands of hair out of his eyesight. The two of you were acting like a cheesy, newly wedded couple, but you didn't care. As long as he was by your side, everything would be okay.

Being the gentleman Jack was, he had gotten out of the car the moment your father had parked to go ahead and open your door for you. You had blushed yet again at this action. You were easily swooned when it came to him. You grabbed onto his exchanged hand as you grabbed your sari with the other to lift the fabric off the floor as you stepped out of the car. A blush had covered Jack’s pale skin as he watched your every move. You looked, no, you were someone out of a fairy tale. You were beyond beautiful, breaking the scale as you were above it. “well thank you, my prince Naveen.” The both of you knew that ‘prince charming’ would have been the usual phrase, but you didn’t like that. Prince charming didn’t have any personality and Jack was the complete opposite of that, so you had decided to settle on Naveen, who was also your favorite Disney prince. Very ironic, considering your ethnicity. “Y/N!!” You were almost knocked on your butt at the sudden force running into, if that weren’t for Jack holding you by the small of your back. “My sweet boni (wild berry)!” You engulfed her in your arms as you held her against your hip, “for sure has been a while, hasn’t it?” You got a nod in response as she wrapped your arms around you, “missed you!” She had exclaimed, before she made direct eye contact with Jack, who had put on the brightest smile as he waved at her. She shyly waved in return, thinking the older boy in front of her was quite handsome.

“I knew she would be here. Assalamu Alaikum, bhanjee (sister’s daughter).” One of your hundred aunts came up to you, putting her hand on your arm as she leaned to press her cheek against yours. You smiled as you greeted her in return, “Wa’alaikum Salaam, auntie.” You felt Jack shift as his grip on the small of your back tightened. You put your cousin down, before putting your hand on Jack’s chest, the other hugging his arm close to you. “Auntie, this is my boyfriend, Jackson.” Your aunt had looked at the boy from head to toe, making him shake in his shoes. He put his hand on his chest as he nodded his head to greet her, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. And just Jack is alright with me.” You had looked at your aunt for approval, as she still analyzed his figure. “Aren’t you a tall handsome boy! What do your parents do, hm? Please call me auntie!”

If you could crumble through the ground, it would have happened right there and then. “Oh thank you, auntie! Uhm my mom studied bio-“

“Oh doctor!! When are the two of you getting married!”

A heavy blush had covered Jack’s cheeks as you basically pulled Jack with you towards the venue, “Auntie we are going to greet the others, please excuse us!” As you speed walked off with your boyfriend trailing behind you.

“I am so sorry for her,” you bit your lip as you looked down in shame. The two of you were still so young and for your auntie to start talking about marriage, “I’m sorry if you felt uncomfortable with that question.” You saw your future in him, even though the two of you were still so young, and you didn’t know if Jack felt the same way. Instead of an awkward response, a laugh had erupted from him, “It’s okay darling. After all, you having my last name doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?”

You had smacked his chest, “We aren’t even twenty, Jack!”

The two of you had walked around greeting other relatives, some you knew and most you didn’t. It was the usual ‘I held you when you were just a baby!’ and ‘I remember when you just learned how to walk’ moment, where you awkwardly smiled in response. The moment they saw Jack, they had all interviewed him like true interviewers whenever he was on press tours. He didn’t mind though, as he would try his hardest for you. Their defensive behavior disappeared the moment he had told them he was an actor, your relatives linking this to being rich. Word spread about you bringing in your white famous boyfriend, other people coming up to the two of you to ask you questions about your relationship. You already felt your social battery draining and the ceremony hadn’t even started yet, so you pulled Jack to the side as another storm of relatives flooded in, late as always cause everyone could never be on time. Luckily for them, the soon-to-be-married couple already counted on this. Once Asian, always Asian. “I have never seen a family this big before.” He had leaned down to whisper that in your ear, his lips pressed against your ear as his hot breath fanned against your skin. His hand was holding your waist as he pulled you closer, “did I already tell you that you look incredible tonight, babe.”

Your hands traveled to his chest, gripping onto his blazer as you looked around, “isn’t this kind of inappropriate of you to do at the wedding of your new family, sir Champion?”

His eyes sparkled as he pulled his face away to flash you a grin, “I can’t help it, mrs. Champion. I like the physical contact.” You chuckled in response, pressing a quick kiss against his plump lips before pulling yourself away from him, the only physical contact being your arm hooking into his. So far, you had mostly met aunties, uncles and distant cousins. Jack didn’t know what was about to come. The scariest part of meeting an Asian family: the older cousins. They were probably running late as always.

“Before you can call me mrs. Champion, you still have some obstacles to win, Jackson Champion.” You weren’t going to lie, you were incredibly worried about him meeting your grandparents and older cousins. You were one of the youngest, so they were extra protective when it came to you. “Which is?”

Before you could answer your dear boyfriend, one of your relatives had gotten on stage with a microphone in her hand, “Namaste, family, friends. We have come here together,” She did her introduction speech, before telling everyone to sit at one of the hundreds of round tables in the huge venue. You smiled at your boyfriend and pulled him along, looking for any familiar faces you could sit with. “(Y/N), here!” You heard your name being called as you looked around. Among the crowded tables, you spotted a few heads peeking out from the crowd. Your older cousins. All sitting together. Holding one chair free for you. You didn’t tell them about Jack coming. You gulped as you headed their way. This was it, the true judging of your boyfriend.

“well good day, rats.” You smirked as they all stood up to engulf you in a hug, or a handshake. Jack stood there awkwardly, waiting for you to introduce him. “Now who is this?” one of your cousins spoke up, walking over to one of the only white people in the room, being sweet Jack.

“guys, this is m-“

“how couldn’t you tell us?! You have been seeing someone all along?!”

“If you could shut up and let me speak, thank you.” You took a step towards Jack, hugging his arm in your chest as you smiled sweetly, “This is obviously my sweet and handsome boyfriend, Jack.” Your older cousins gaped at one another. Even though they had figured it out on their own the moment you walked in with a white boy, they still couldn’t believe it that their little cousin would grow up so early. “Your type differs so much from us, that’s not in a bad way of course! Nice to meet you Jack, I’m ….” Your only first female cousin had spoken up, making the decision to walk up to him with her hand extracted. Jack felt much more at ease, a bright smile on his face as they shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

You gave your other cousins a look, telling them to be nice to your boyfriend. They all groaned, but agreed. They didn’t want you unhappy, after all. All your cousins had greeted Jack, who felt delighted as he felt them opening up to him. You all took a seat, as you secretly stole a chair from the table next to you for Jack to sit down next to you. He put his hand on your thigh as your touch made him feel at ease. You smiled and put your hand on his. The table was decorated with flowers and a beautiful woven cloth, on top all kinds of snacks to eat from. Your relative prepared for her next speech, waiting for everyone to settle down in their seats, as you pulled a few bowls closer to the two of you. You faced Jack, who looked down at the three snacks. “What are these?” he had asked out of genuine curiosity, excited to try it. “So this is aloo tikki, it’s like a fried potato patty. This is banana chips, it’s basically fried overripen bananas. This last one is samosas, it’s my all time favorite. I’m sure you had this before, it’s the potato filled pastry.” You explained as you pointed to all the dishes, given them their easiest description for him. Jack took notice how it was all fried, in oil. He was sure he needed to go to the gym tomorrow, because of all the delicious food he will eat. He first went for the safe option, the one he already knew, the samosas. “warning baby, these are much spicier than the ones I made for you.” You got up from your seat, “let me go get you something to drink, alright? I’ll be back soon.”

“So Jack, what do you do?” one of your cousins had asked him once you went off to the other side of the venue.

“I’m an actor. I have been doing it since I was a child, and now I made my passion my career.” Jack explained, turning to your cousin as he used his hands while talking.

Your other cousin chimed in, “In what movies do you play? Like genre?”

“So far, horror and science fiction. My most recent role was one in scream s-“

Before Jack could finish his sentence, your female cousin chimed in, “OH MY GOD! YOU’RE THE HUMAN KID FROM AVATAR!” She almost fell off her chair as she did so, standing up from her seat and pointing at him, “You’re the bug! The one with the bug name!” her accent clear as she spoke out of pure excitement. In the meantime, your other cousins just stay quiet as they watch their cousin scream like a true Asian mom on the phone. God, this was embarrassing.

Jack tried his best to hold his laughter, “Yes, I play spider yes.”

“Do you plan on playing in romance movies?” the vibe suddenly got dark, as all your cousins stared right into his eyes. It made him nervous, but he knew he couldn’t do more than tell them the truth. “It would be interesting to be in one, as it’s different from what I usually do, but if (Y/N) feels uncomfortable with that thought, then I won’t. I don’t want my relationship to be in danger. There are a lot of other genres with good movie plots.”

Once you had returned with your drinks, it looked like your cousins had opened up just a tad. You didn’t know what they had talked about, but it must be good. You brought him a glass of water to neutralize his tastebuds as you brought a cola for yourself. He didn’t expect the spice to hit him this hard, his mouth on fire as he teared up. Your cousins had laughed at him as he sipped his water, holding onto your hand as he did so. You gently rubbed his cheeks as you grinned, “Now where is my Champion?”

The ceremony had started soon after. Your cousin looked so beautiful in her attire, almost making you tear up as your hand clasped over your mouth. Jack scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer, his other hand rubbing your hand. It might be wishful thinking, but that could be Jack and you in a decade. Oh, how you couldn’t wait to see what the future had in stock for the two of you. Thank god that you wore waterproof mascara, because you bawled your eyes out the moment they had exchanged rings. “baby, it’s okay I’m here.” He had whispered as you sniffed, trying to get it together.

After the ceremony, the dancing began. First it started out as performance dancing, with professional dancers in cultural attires as they put on a show. Jack had taken his phone out to film the happening, so fascinated by the different approach of a wedding. Soon, couples gathered on the dance floor as the professional dancers left the floor. Thee newly wedded couple danced in the middle as the other pairs danced around them. You had gotten up, taking his hand in yours as you pulled him off your chair, “now come on!”

“babe, I don’t know the dance moves-“

“But you know how to dance! Come on!”

You pulled him on the dancefloor, for the sake of your social anxiety and him being in the presence of your huge family, you had decided to stay at the side. “Come on, lets just have fun. Doesn’t matter what we dance, you take the lead Champ.” He grinned at you as he took you in his arms. At first he was a little stiff, twirling you around and moving you from side to side. But as time passed, he grew more comfortable: more himself. The dances got more ‘Jack’ when he did his iconic dance, making you laugh as you threw your head back. The two of you forgot everyone around you as you were only focused on one another, enjoying the moment with the brightest smiles on your face. A sight captured by many.

Eventually, the two of you left the dancefloor, as food would be served soon. You went to the restroom to fix yourself up, Jack following you like a lost puppy as he held onto your hand. You were inside the restroom, touching your makeup and hair up as Jack stood outside, your hands linked together through the door crack. Then you proceeded to return to your table, food already ready and served. It was a plate filled with fresh roti: masala potatoes and chicken, eggs and green beans filling your nostrils. A side of madame jeanette to go with it. Jack had pulled your chair out for you to sit on, before taking a seat himself, “what’s this?” He had asked as he analyzed the plate in front of his nose.

“So this is my favorite dish actually, it’s roti with a bunch of side dishes you eat this with.” You explained as you opened the little wipe packet they gave you to go with, since it’s a dish you’re supposed to eat with your hands. You gave it to Jack as you opened your own wipe, “this is a dish you eat with your hands, so that’s what the wipes are for.” He copied your ways, wiping his fingers down with the wipe as well.

“Okay, so you rip some of the flatbread and you hold it like you’re going to scoop something, then you grab a little bit of everything and put it in your mouth.” You explained as you followed your own instructions, adding some of the madame jeanette to it as well. He had seen you done that, “What is the yellow sauce?” He asked as his eyes focused on his plate. He wasn’t used to eating at all. Of course he ate pizza and chicken wings with his hands, but this still felt different. This felt more cultural. You watched him struggle to split the potatoes in half without letting it fly through the sky. It was kind of cute?

Your gaze returned on his expression as you answered his question from earlier, “It’s spicy, I am not sure if you can handle it. Do you still want to try?”

He nodded, eager to do anything that has to do with your culture. Eager to learn.

“Say ah?”

“huh?”

“I said ‘ahh’ silly.”

“ahh?” Jack had opened his mouth in confusion, not knowing what you meant by it. You then fed him your portion, making him blush a dark shade of red as you pushed the food inside his mouth with your thumb. You pulled your hand away, looking at his expression with a bright grin. As he chewed, his eyes widened when the spice hit his tongue. It felt like his tastebuds were burning off. He had swallowed though, since the taste was exquisite. If only he could taste it better without the distracting spice. You quickly brought the glass of water to his lips, your hand under his chin as he eagerly gulped his drink done, his hand on yours to keep the cup steady.

This sure was an experience to tell at home.

[cilly-the-writer]

SHADOWS OF SORCERY | Part 11 | “Shadow of Lies” | 1,120 words

     Elora slouched over a table as she eyed Imogene standing off to the side—whistling for her firelights. It sounded like a complicated bird call, so it didn't make much sense to Elora because the firelights didn't chirp or sing. But one of the firelights came zipping back out of nowhere nonetheless.

     Imogene held her hands out and let it zoom straight into them. Then she held the creature closer to her face, almost at her nose, and spoke ever so softly to it.

     "Okay, now you tell the others to come back. Elora needs you."

     The firelight's blue light flashed excitedly as if to say 'yes' in morse code. Then Imogene threw it back into the air, launching it into flight. It raced off even faster than before, on a mission.

     Elora sighed. Why did they have to be so flighty? 

     "Sorry about this." Elora told Charlotte.

     Charlotte sat across the table from her, keeping her hand outstretched to keep her healing magic going. She gave a small smile.

     "I don't mind," she said. Yet, Charlotte's smile fell a little as the silence ensued. "But if you don't mind me asking… if someone gave you a poison core, why didn't you just have it extracted?"

     It was the inevitable question.

     Elora tensed, not sure if her fake answer was convincing enough. She had already worked on her cover story just in case something like this happened.

     "Because… they have to destroy it, right? After they take it?" Elora said. "I wanted to see if I could find a dreamer who could read the past… and find out who gave it to me."

     Charlotte stared.

     It probably sounded dumb. Why wouldn't she know who gave it to her? Why would she keep the poison either way?

     "My father might know someone," Charlotte finally said. "He comes across a lot of rare abilities."

     Elora blinked.

     "You think so?"

     "Do you want to come ask him with me?" she said. "He's not allowed to just freely share other people's abilities… so I don't know for sure. But maybe he can do something if you explain your situation to him."

     Imogene glanced over at Charlotte, getting a clear sense that the extractor liked to meet people in person. She could sense too that he didn't just know a lot of people with rare abilities. He had taken a lot of rare abilities from people.

     Imogene snapped out of her hesitation and then raced to hit her palms against the table in a display of eagerness.

     "Can I come?" Imogene's voice shined as bright as ever.

     So it was settled.

     Charlotte arranged for them to meet her father the next day after classes. It wasn't a far walk from the school. They got there in less than half an hour.

     It was a magnificent abode. The property was enclosed by tall iron gates. Charlotte held her palm up to a steel lock at the center; it only opened with magic. A purple circle of light shined across it and the lock popped open, the gates pushing slowly open on their own.

     Elora imagined there were plenty of other magic security measures too. 

     Once they got to the front door, a butler wearing an old fashioned suit welcomed them. Charlotte thanked him and he led everyone to a room off the foyer, a den past the mansion's grand staircase.

     The regional extractor was there sitting at his desk, reading over some paperwork. But at the sound of the door opening, he got up and smiled.

     "Charlotte, it's good to see you." 

     "Yes, well, these are my friends I told you about–," she said, gesturing to both of them, "Elora and Imogene. Elora and Imogene, this is my father."

     They exchanged pleasantries and then Mr. Gallison, the regional extractor, went to speak first.

     "Charlotte told me you had a bit of a problem?"

     "Yes, I was given a poison core a year ago and I really wanted to find out where it came from." Elora stood straight, focusing on keeping her composure in the midst of her apprehension. 

     “So you’re the girl I heard about, the one who wanted to keep the poison core.”

     Elora paused. Surely, her story sounded strange.

     "I've been looking for someone with a past reading ability…” she said. “ I wanted to see if they could read the poison core and see who it came from. Charlotte thought you might be able to help. Do you know anybody with a past reading ability?”

     Mr. Gallison stopped, seeming to contemplate something.

     “No. I’m sorry.”

     Imogene’s heart beat hard in her chest. 

     He was lying. She couldn’t read him super well; he had a blocking ability like Charlotte—but she felt the truth in his thoughts so strongly. There was a person. A sorcerer that he knew of with the ability. 

     “That’s okay. Thank you for agreeing to see us anyway,” Elora said, hoping to streamline their escape. 

     “Are you sure you don’t just want me to take the poison core?” he asked. “You’re here now. I can send for the magic reader and the nullifier.”

     “Oh, no thank you, not yet,” Elora said. “I don’t want it destroyed yet. I still want to find someone with the ability.”

     “Maybe I could get permission to keep it…” Mr. Gallison’s voice trailed off before he continued. “So you’re at least not walking around with all that poison in your system. I’d have to reach out to the Regional Power Authority.”

     Shit. 

     “That would be wonderful, if you can.” Elora said.

     “I’ll get in touch with them today and see what they say.”

     “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

     She despised this turn of events. This was awful. What if they agreed?

     Mr. Gallison invited them all to stay for dinner, but luckily for Elora, Charlotte asked them if they would rather head back to campus. Bringing up all the big tests coming up. She didn’t want to keep them late if they had a lot of studying to do. 

     “Of course, maybe some other time.” Mr. Gallison said.

     They returned to the academy and headed to their dorm rooms. Although Imogene followed Elora straight to hers, waiting for Elora to close the door fully before she grabbed her arm.

     “Elora, he was lying! He does know someone with a past reading ability!” she shook Elora’s arm out of anxiety over the terrible feeling in her chest, but Elora wasn’t very surprised. She already had her suspicions going in. 

     All that did was move him higher up her suspect list.

     If he was the one who extracted the poison core, then he would be directly tied to its past. So of course he would lie.

Next >>

[arjun-muralidharan]

June 26th to 28th 2008 Venue: Complexe sportif Claude-Robillard Time clocked: 2:02.57 Olympic Qualifying Target Timing: 2.01.78 Location: Montreal Quebec Canada

The new Neophrene Speedo LZR racing suits were launched about a month prior to this meet and were all the buzz about how they are reducing about half a second for all the swimmers who got their hands on one. Only a selective few coaches were given these suits to help their swimmers make the Olympic cut. I asked my coach Byron Macdonald to get me one if possible. But he said it wasnt available in my size as i was a size 44 at the time. My teammate Terrence Hayes got his hands on a size 40 LZR which was his size. I asked him if i could borrow it for the 100 butterfly and he said yes. The suit took a good 45 mins to put on with the help of my brother but i knew it was too tight and difficult to breathe in but the tradeoff was worth it if it helped me make the Olympic cut. My target was to go 54.50 and qualify in the 100 itself and not leave it all to my main event which was the 200 fly. But unfortunately these suits as amazing as they were had a notorious reputation for having atrocious zips which never held together. On the blocks as the starter buzzed prepping to say "take your marks" my suits zip snapped open and my heart froze as i realised what happened. I swam the race with my entire suit filled with water way off the mark at 57.24. It was extremely disheartening and i decided to give up the idea of experimenting with any new suits and rely on my own Speed FS PRO suit for the 200 fly as that was my last chance.

100 fly results: https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=530519&gender=1&styleId=16

Next morning woke up at 5:45 AM in my hotel room. Had a couple of bananas with energy drinks & stretched for about 30 mins preparing for the morning prelim swim. I had strategised to win the event and secure an Olympic QT i will need to secure a top 3 position in the prelims. My target was to swim 2:08 in the heats trusting that my conditioning and recovery rate helps me get ready & push through to 2:01 in the finals later in the day. Was about an hour's drive to the pool from our hotel as Montreal traffic jams are quite hectic. All through the journey had my ipod on listening to my usual rap tracks to be in the zone and suppress the butterflies in my stomach. Reached the pool and got in for the warmup. The water felt extremely light and muscles were feeling loose and fluid. This reinforced my confidence by a huge margin.

The race started out i was in the first heat. TIM RUSE of Pointe-Claire Swim Club and KISHIDA Masayuki of Japan took the lead early into the race with me comfortably in the third place. I decided to swim conserving energy i increased my stroke rate and pace around 150 meters pulling ahead of Tim RUSE and qualifying 5th for the finals swimming 2:09. Went back to the hotel had a big breakfast and a quick nap. However our swim coaches wouldnt give us a seperate room like the first two days and asked us to move and adjust with 7 other swimmers in one bed. Unfortunately some of the swimmers were given seperate rooms for their events. I knew i had a lot riding on this race to qualify for Beijing Olympics and i couldnt afford to let lack of rest and comfort come in the way of my performance. So i had to fight with other swimmers who didnt have events and ask them to move so i can get a bed to take a nap on prior to the finals. My older brother Amar who was after the same goal had swam in the morning and qualified third for the finals clocking 2:09. He couldnt get a proper place to sleep thanks to all the money saving going on by the club into clustering up swimmers so they dont have to pay for rooms. I was willing to pay more for my own room but the management and coaches refused to accomodate this request. My brother went out to Harvey's & Tim Horton's and got us both lunch which consisted of a few gatorade drinks and chicken burgers.

At about 3:00 PM we checked out of the hotel and went with all our luggage to the pool for the finals. I warmed up surprisingly feeling good but the water felt slightly cold which didnt matter much to me. I knew i am going to swim fast during the warm up but the question was how fast will it be and will it be enough? I meditated a bit after the warmup in solitude praying to the god of strength, visualizing my race and started suiting up in my FS PRO which was an old / outdated suit at the time but i trusted it'll get the job done.

As me and my brother walked out for the finals we suddenly saw the on deck commentator getting the crowd going on the last day. There were about 15000 people in attendance that broke out into a mexican wave. It was a sight to see and got me pumped up to swim the race fast. 10 mins after we were in the marshalling room getting ready to walk out to the blocks when the commentator announced the names of the swimmers walking out one by one. As our names were called out the announcer asked the crowd to give a big round of applause for us for coming all the way from India and racing in Canada. 5000 large crowd stood up and clapped for us making me feel honored and proud. It was a very unforgettable and special moment for us in our lives.

The race started with me opening out in the blistering 56.83 taking the lead. As i made the turn for the third 50 i saw the Toronto Swim Club team standing near my lane and screaming for me to bring it home. In the last lap at the 175 meters mark my hands turned to concrete but i knew it was a do or die situation. I said screw it and went 20 meters head down swim with my lungs nearing explosion but i wouldnt relent till i touched the wall, when i finally hit the last stroke i knew i left whatever i had and gave it my all regardless of the outcome. I turned around and saw that i missed the Olympic qualifying mark by .70 of a second. However i had broken the Canada Cup record and become the first and only Indian swimmer to win a gold at a foreign national championship. It was a mixed emotion of feeling you accomplised something but sad that you lost something at the same time. All my coaches, training partners came and gave me a pat, handshakes and three cheers along with the crowd as well. After coming out of the pool all i could do is take a bow and acknowledge the great people who were showing appreciation.

I had a long and heartfelt call with my dad and mentor who was back home watching the race live. He said "The only thing that matters is that you gave it your best and made your parents and country proud" In the end that is the main thing.

200 fly results: https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=530519&gender=1&styleId=17

All in all it was a great experience and something i cherish to this day. Winning and Losing is all a part of the sport. What matters is what you take from it and how you grow thereafter. These are the experiences we impart onto our students who will be the champions of tommorrow.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Or Lose Me Forever

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Natasha “Phoenix” Trace Rating: E Word Count: 2813

Summary: He swiftly flexes his fingers to get the tremble out of them. Natasha ejected from a plummeting F-18—it should be her who’s shaking.

The quarters are the same as they gave him as a student—not the exact same, but the same layout, the same room to sit in and sleep in and decorate as he pleases. Bradley’s gone with a messy draping of assorted Hawaiian shirts. Looks pretty goddamn terrible, so he’s hoping the Vice Admiral doesn’t throw a petty inspection their way. It wouldn’t be unusual, but it would be fucking cruel, since they’re apparently vying for assignment to an unwinnable mission.

No matter the state he keeps them in, these quarters are his. He expects visitors to knock.

Phoenix comes charging through the door without extending that courtesy and he’s standing there at the opposite end of the room: shocked, shirtless, sweaty, arms twitching from the punishing sets of curls he’s been doing with the 50lb dumbbell he drops on the floor when she walks in. It bounces and he jerks his foot out of the way.

“You’re out of observation?” he checks, dumbstruck.

He knew it was coming, but this is still the first time he’s seen her since the crash, since call sign “Phoenix” went from a green dot on a radar screen to a dark parachute in the sky. There’s a reason he’s been keeping himself busy with reps that burn his muscles like a lost bet. They were a distraction.

She raises her chin, tough.

“I’ve just gotta shake it off now,” she says.

“Is that what the doctor told you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Oh, ok, just checking,” Bradley says with a forced laugh. He puts his hands on his hips and blinks at the sweat dripping into his eyes. “I forgot there’s nothing else on the spectrum between totally fine and dead.”

“How long have we been friends?”

“Long enough that you don’t need to knock before walking into my room, I guess.”

“Right,” she agrees. “So trust me when I say I’m alright.”

“Completely alright? Ready to get back up there alright?”

Closing the door to his quarters, Phoenix admits, “My adrenaline’s still running a little high.”

He shifts, watching her, wondering. She has a fresh flight suit zipped to her throat. The only sign that she’s recently been discharged from the infirmary is that her hair’s pulled into a low ponytail instead of the usual bun. Phoenix isn’t a hothead—she’s methodical, efficient, careful but not cautious. Yeah, being in the air, running these training exercises Mav’s been pushing them through, it gets everybody’s heart pumping, but Bradley’s never witnessed an adrenaline-fueled Phoenix on the ground. It’s one thing to hear her voice rising in excitement (or panic—fuck, those blazing engines) over comms and another to be alone with her and not know where that energy’s about to go.

(Bradley has his hopes. They’ve been friends a long time. Long enough that he’s definitely had dreams about her walking into his room without knocking.)

But she probably just wants some flight time with him, to confer with him before putting in a request for the two of them to go up early, reacclimate her without the rest of the candidates listening in. She’ll only be asking him and not her WSO because she knows him better—no hard feelings, Bob. Maybe they’ll play some pool first. Ease into it.

In a confident tug, Phoenix unzips her flight suit to her navel, and she’s wearing a standard-issue white tee underneath, but he still says, “Whoa.”

She shrugs out of the sleeves to leave the top half of the suit hanging from her waist. If this isn’t what it very much looks like it is, he is fucked; his blood’s still racing through his veins from his interrupted workout and his sweatpants aren’t much to hide behind if it all decides to go to the same place.

“Natasha…” Bradley’s skin is clammy, but his mouth is very, very dry. He wets his lips with his tongue. His eyes move over her.

Phoenix walks up to him and, like the straightforward person she is, reaches around and slaps his ass. One ass-slap is enough to make the sweatpants situation a lost cause; he’s getting hard.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” he jokes, but his voice is choked.

“I was hoping it’d mean more to you than a way to say good game after beach football.”

“What does it mean to you?” Bradley challenges, head tipped back slightly as he looks down at her.

Her abruptly earnest gaze slides across his face.

“I almost died,” she says. Soft. Intense.

His palms are damp, but he holds her waist. Compared to him, she’s cool, clean. He’s met her fist hard with his after a gruelling victory, accidentally driven his elbow into her arm when he was banging out Jerry Lee Lewis on the piano and she took a seat next to him at her own risk, had the gritty sole of her boot bear down on his interlaced fingers when he hoisted her over a wall, but never put a gentle hand on one of her cotton t-shirts just to touch her. He swiftly flexes his fingers to get the tremble out of them. Natasha ejected from a plummeting F-18—it should be her who’s shaking.

“That’s why they call you ‘Phoenix,’ huh?”

“Rising from the ashes,” she agrees. He sees her sly smile. “Remind me why they call you ‘Rooster’? Is it just a coincidence that another word for rooster is co—”

Bradley brings his mouth down on hers hard. He bunches her t-shirt between his fingers and edges quickly and clumsily around the dumbbell at his feet, crowding into her as her head tilts back. His hips press forward to supply the word he didn’t let her get out. If adrenaline has a flavour, it tastes like Phoenix’s lips grabbing at his and catching between his teeth. He doesn’t want to breathe, doesn’t want to think—does not want Mav’s piloting advice in his head right now.

Her hands slip on his slick back and she tears out of the kiss to pant, “You stink,” but by the way she then immediately runs her nose and mouth up his neck, breathing his skin, he’d guess she kinda likes it. They’re all a bunch of hyper-sensitive freaks with honed instincts and lightning-fast reaction times, high on competition and each other’s arrogance. He’s never fucked another fighter pilot—it’s a perfect environment to stoke sexual tension and a disastrous environment in which to indulge it—but it’s Natasha and they might die in Coffin Corner at the end of this. If she weren’t as good as she is, she’d be dead already.

He's going nuts at the growing heat of her against him. Impatiently, Bradley pushes his hand up the back of her shirt and she helps him, peeling it up and over her head. He takes her in, then tries to take her up, bending his knees to grab the back of her thighs. But when he goes to lift her, his muscles feel on-fire and numb at the same time and he can’t.

With a burst of laughter, he admits, “My arms are wrecked.”

Phoenix laughs with him as he skims his hands back up to her hips.

“And people think you don’t test the limits.”

“Thank you for that backhanded compliment.”

“I said people,” she clarifies, “not me. But save your arms.” Eyes locked on his, she nods towards his unmade bed. The gesture has the conviction of an order.

Bradley chuckles.

“Are you inviting me into my own bed?”

“Uh huh.”

Her ego’s in her grin and dark, bright eyes, her certainty that he’ll execute every shot she calls. She’s right. He never asked to be protected by the authority she commands among their peers, but he doesn’t mind it. He can be rude, he can be the friendly jackass, the piano man jangling his fingers across the keys with his sunglasses on indoors. He can knock his tense shoulders roughly through a swarm of naval aviators or be everybody’s best friend in a bar full of strangers. He can make people wonder if he’s drunk when he’s sober, can stay just barely on the lovable side of belligerent and toss out smiles like party-favour hand grenades. If he gets into a fight, it’s because he craves it, not because he needs to; Phoenix is the first to throw herself between him and someone else. Bradley doesn’t want anyone between them now.

“You always did know how to walk into a room like you owned it,” he notes, then shoves his sweats down as he walks to the bed, stepping on the cuffs to get his feet free. Turning, he hurls himself backwards onto the unyielding mattress. He didn’t have anything on under the pants. He watches her check him out.

Phoenix takes her bra off first, then her boots, then the flight suit. Each pieces joins his cultivated ecosystem of slobbishness on the floor. She does it all with practiced, almost clinical meticulousness. Though she doesn’t do it like she’s putting on a show, he finds it torturously sexy anyway (he’s been gripping his cock since she pulled sharply at her knotted laces)—not just the skin she reveals, but the deliberateness of it. This is for you, she seems to be saying, staring him straight in the eye, and this is also for me. Can you imagine the guts it takes to survive a critical engine failure and seduce one of your best friends? You want me almost as bad as you want to be me.

He's sunk in disbelief as she joins him on the bed wearing nothing but underwear and the elastic in her hair. Propped on an elbow, he lets her come to him, and they kiss with honest tentativeness, exploring this new way to be friends, to become steeply, dangerously loyal. Birds of a feather. Actually, they have the only two avian call signs in their elite cohort—his nothing more than a jumped-up barnyard alarm clock, but hers something mystical in a way that appeals to every single person in the building: the seductive implication of immortality. Bradley knows coming that close to the grave will reenforce Phoenix’s call sign and raise her to legendary status. She’ll be a story—a warning and a lesson learned with awe. But he’s just glad she’s alive, and he likes her just like this, following him down as he slides his elbow out from under him to lie flat on his back. Holding his jaw, she straddles his lap. She nudges into his erection and he grunts at the pressure and the feel of damp cotton.

“Talk to me, Rooster,” she coaxes, scraping her teeth over his chin, not quite biting.

He’s hard as fuck, leaking onto the glistening trails of sweat already on his abdomen, and Phoenix just rolls her hips gently forward again.

“More?” she asks. That’s perfect; keep it simple for him.

“Hell yes,” he says, and digs his fingers into her hips, dragging her forward and back across his cock, feeling the shudder in her thighs when he rubs her just right. She seizes his shoulder and pins it to the bed, not that he was planning to go anywhere. He stares at the pronounced tautness of her triceps and the soft valley they create. He wants to put his mouth there.

Bradley could swear she’s about to come, but this woman’s a fucking genius with timing, an ace at last-second restraint—always coming in with the smart move that pulls her out of a dive set to violate the hard deck, or a slow exhale while her hand stills on the controls to keep from taking a shot too soon. It turns him on so goddamn much to watch her deny herself in this moment with the expectation of greater pleasure in the next. He’s gonna give her that. Yes, he fucking will.

Phoenix climbs off of him to strip the underwear from her body. Naked, she tries to remount his hips, but he squeezes her thighs, refusing to let her stop there, urging her forward until she’s right where he wants her. And then he stares up at her with a cocky grin until she settles onto him of her own volition. Women can’t help but be curious about the mustache.

If they anticipate each other well in the air, they do it beautifully here. He thinks it’s fucking stunning how she rocks with him while he laps sloppily at her clit, tilting her hips in concert with the tilt of his jaw. It isn’t gentle—it’s power and thrust, just like a carrier launch—but they make it graceful. A big hunk of metal’s not supposed to fly; a guy who lost his parents young isn’t supposed to find new connections that are this strong. He plunges his tongue into her and his hips thump reflexively off the bed when she wedges her hand between his head and the pillow to press his mouth up harder. He can feel her clutching at his tongue and licks firmly into the tight passage. Now it’s no brains and all nerve as they hold each other with lowered eyelids and searing stares, waiting for the other person to flinch. Thankfully, she stops him from suffocating in the midst of flaunting the breath control he’s mastered to allow himself to pull massive Gs.

Phoenix’s hand smooths from the back of his head to the top and her fingers comb through his hair. He groans when she finds her grip and angles her ass up to scratch that sweet itch, grinding her clit all over his mustache. Strangled cries ring from her throat, higher and higher, and he doesn’t give a fuck about the confused mumble coming through the wall his quarters share with Coyote’s.

She gets off and there’s hardly a pause—her shutting her eyes, him gasping for breath, a slurred, desperate exchange about birth control where they talk over each other and end sentences they’ve barely begun and he finds out she’s on the pill and feels, first, relief because not buying condoms is the one way in which he showed up to this mission ill-equipped and, second, zero surprise, since Phoenix always has her shit together—before she’s stuffing his twitching cock into her while he yanks the elastic from her hair.

“Not so fast,” Bradley pants, because Phoenix bears down and she fucking goes after it, riding him in a quick, bouncing rhythm. She’s got his sweat on her thighs and he’s still backhanding her arousal off his lips.

“I’ve never underestimated you,” she replies. Which is a weird fucking thing to say (does he thank her?), but he can’t not react to the inherent dare. If he’s going to achieve what she expects him to, he better get to it.

His arms aren’t gonna like it, but this is no time to take the long, safe route to the destination.

Flipping them, he lunges forward with his hips, driving into her so he can hear the bed colliding with the wall and see her dark hair scattering across his pillow. Coyote’s protest is a distant howl, easily ignored. Bradley hikes Phoenix’s thighs up around his hips, one at a time, then drops low to hover close above her.

“Hey,” he says, jerking his chin like he’s just spotted her in a crowd despite their noses being an inch apart. He doesn’t know how to talk to her now, but he’s pretty happy feeling like a fucking idiot.

She flashes him a smile in return, then guides his hand to her boob and his ear to her lips. He can’t believe what he’s hearing—she compliments him. Soft and huffed and irresistible, she pays her brush with death forward by saying every nice thing Bradley’s never heard. She doesn’t think he’s timid, she thinks he’s a goddamn good pilot, one she admires, one she knows she can rely on, one she trusts. She tells him how much she loves it when he’s around. He’s a dork and an asshole and he has her favourite smile. Her hand slips down and he can feel her playing with her clit. He swallows and tries to keep his strokes even as she confesses in ragged breaths every carnal thought she’s had about his body since the football game on the beach.

“Thanks for not dying,” he blurts.

Phoenix grins, strands of unbound hair swept across her forehead. She’s arching her back to meet his pounding thrusts and he knows she’s almost there. Him—she came to him, restless and alive. Bradley kisses her, losing the pace, feeling so close to the edge that he doesn’t know how he’s not over it already.

“Crow for me, Rooster,” she says.

It sounds a lot like her name.

[loki--fics]

Hey !!! I love your writing !!! Could I possibly request a super fluffy like wedding day where both you and Loki are nervous but it all goes away when you see each other and a wee lil bit of smut at the end? Totally cool if not !!! ✨💜

sorry this took so long, this was by far my longest oneshot! i wanted to fit in as much detail as possible, though i was tempted to turn this into a series as well haha. thank you for the request though, and feel free to ask for more :)) i hope you enjoy!

~

Loki's Bride

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,668

Content Warnings: fluff, lots of smut at the end

~

It was late afternoon, the warm sun guarding against the chill of the autumn breeze. You sat in front of the window, your eyes closed as a handmaiden worked on your makeup, another one standing behind you working on your hair. They had been doing this for what felt like ages, but you didn't mind; it took your mind off of how nervous you were. But then, you had reason to be nervous - today was your wedding day.

The crisp breeze wafted in from the open window, caressing your skin like a whisper, but you could barely feel it over the cold pricks of anxiety. You and Frigga had been planning this day for months now, and throughout the months you had been excited, but now that the day was here, you were nervous.

"It is time for the dress, Lady Y/N," Said the handmaiden who did your hair. You recalled her stating that her name was Ingrid, and the other maiden was named Eira.

Nodding, you stood and walked with Ingrid to the wardrobe, from which she grabbed a large garment bag.

"Her Majesty had this dress made for you," Eira said happily as Ingrid unzipped the bag. You were met by the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, a creamy off-white number with off the shoulder sleeves and intricate gold lacing, the skirt wide and puffy with a short train. Its beauty was almost unreal.

"It's gorgeous," You said, your fingers brushing the fabric.

Eira slipped your robe off of your shoulders, placing it on the bed as Ingrid helped you carefully step into the dress. As she zipped up the back, it hugged your waist and bosom snugly, but not uncomfortably tight. It was a perfect fit, as were the shoes and the waist belt for the dagger ceremony.

"This is amazing," You breathed, smoothing out the dress. It felt as though you had been transported into a faerie tale, with the dress, the handmaidens, the stunning view you had from your window, and the fact that you were marrying a prince.. You were afraid it was too good to be true.

A knock sounded at the door, and Eria walked over to answer it. "Your Majesty!" She said, bowing. "I was wondering when you would arrive, we've just finished getting Y/N into her dress."

Your eyes met Frigga's as she walked into the room, ever the epitome of grace. "Dearest Y/N, you look beautiful!" She said happily, her eyes trailing over you.

"Thank you," You replied, bowing slightly. "The dress.. I'm not sure how I could ever thank you for it, it's perfect."

Frigga waved you off. "I assure you no thanks are needed." It was then that you noticed the square, velvet box in her hands, and she followed your eyes downward. "Oh, yes. This is for you as well, dear." She opened it, and resting inside was a beautiful gold circlet with emeralds and diamonds inlaid, delicately woven to resemble leaves.

"Oh, Frigga, you shouldn't have," You said, feeling tears well up in your eyes. "I couldn't possibly accept this!"

"You can, and you will," She said gently, removing the circlet from the box. Gently clasping it at the back of your head, she turned you toward the mirror. "Go look."

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Never in your life had you looked so beautiful, you were sure of it; your skin had a dewey glow, your hair was left down and curled simply, with intricate braids on either side of your head connecting in the back, the circlet pulling the whole look together. You truly looked like royalty.

The thought still nagged, however, that this was all too good to be true. Turning away from the mirror with a sigh, you took a seat in front of the window once more.

"Is there something troubling you?" Frigga asked, shooing the handmaidens out of the room and taking a seat on the wooden bench next to you, her eyes alight with worry.

"This seems too good to be true," You admitted. "What if Loki realises that he's making a mistake, or he realises he doesn't love me anymore? I'm only a mortal, and he's going to live on far longer after I've gone from this world."

Placing her hand over yours, she spoke. "I know my son, Y/N, and I can see from the way he looks at you how deeply he loves you. Please trust that all will be well."

"He's going to have to watch me grow old and sick and die, while he stays perfect," You voiced. You had realised this quite some time ago, but hadn't let yourself truly come to terms with it until now, and you felt yourself begin to panic. "I'm going to die centuries before him, and then he'll remarry, and-"

"Y/N!" Frigga said, snapping you out of your ramblings. "Do not think of such things. Focus your mind on the love you hold for him, and the love he holds for you; a love as true and pure as yours does not happen often, believe that Loki will not allow anything to happen to you."

"Your Majesty," Ingrid spoke from the doorway. "It's time."

As the two of you stood, Frigga wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace. "Focus on your love for him," She repeated in your ear. "All will be well, I promise."

~time skip~

All too soon, you stood facing the doors that led out into the garden, where the wedding was taking place. Thor was at your side, your arm looped through his as the two of you waited for the music to start, your cue to walk down the aisle.

"What if I forget my vows?" You asked frantically. "What am I supposed to do then?"

Thor chuckled, patting your hand. "Lady Y/N, you have been studying your vows for weeks, I have good faith that you will not forget them. However, if you do, simply speak from your heart."

You heard the low sound of the music begin, and that meant there was only a moment before the doors would open and you would face the people of Asgard and the Allfather, and you felt your heart race. "Please don't let me fall," You whispered.

"Never," Thor whispered back, squeezing your hand. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders as the doors opened.

It took only a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, and almost immediately you spotted Loki. As you and Thor began walking slowly, you watched Loki's eyes widen as he looked at you, his lips parting slightly as a blush rose to his cheeks. You saw nothing but love in his eyes, and you smiled as your own eyes took him in, looking handsome as ever in the Asgardian leather suit he so prided himself on.

Looking down, you saw that the white carpet that stretched from the doors to the altar was sprinkled with beautiful red bougainvillea flowers, which you'd requested as soon as you'd discovered that they were Loki's favourite. He noticed this as well, looking down at the flowers and giving you a small smile.

There were hundreds of people in attendance, most of them being residents of Asgard, many of whom you had yet to meet, all standing with their eyes on you. You saw many happy smiles, but also caught a few jealous stares from some of the women, and flushed. Continuing your slow steps, you focused your gaze back on the handsome groom waiting for you.

As you neared the altar, you spotted your team - your family, standing in the front rows greeting you with wide smiles. When you had first told them about your relationship with Loki, a year and a half after he'd returned to New York to gain pardon from the people of Earth, and six months after your relationship had begun, they were understandably shocked. But through your time spent with him, he had shown you a softer, gentler side to him, one that they had not yet seen. An even bigger shock came when Loki had proposed to you in front of everyone at the New Year's Eve party that Tony had thrown, but now, they expressed nothing but happiness for the two of you.

You felt your heart swell as you looked at them, even more so as you looked back at Loki, and it took everything in you not to pick up your dress, run to your groom, and throw yourself into his arms. This was everything you had dreamt of and more since he proposed to you eight months ago, and you wanted to laugh at yourself for being so nervous. How could you have thought, even for a second, that he would just stop loving you?

Thor pulled his arm out of yours, placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling as he took his place with the rest of the team in the front row. You picked up your dress and walked up the steps of the beautiful stone gazebo, decorated with bright, beautiful flowers and leaves, taking your place across from him.

"You are stunning, my love," Loki said quietly, his blue eyes gazing into your e/c ones as he took your hands.

"As are you," You replied, squeezing his hands. "I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Nor can I."

The music quieted as Odin stepped in front of the two of you and raised his hands, cueing everyone to take their seats.

"Good evening, people of Asgard and guests." Lowering his hands, he continued. "Today, we have taken ourselves out of our usual routines of daily living to witness the union between Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard." He gestured to each of you respectively. "As Loki and Y/N prepared for the ceremony, they took time to reflect upon what it is they love in the other, and they will now state these vows, starting with the groom."

Loki smiled at you lovingly. "I, Loki of Asgard, by the life and seidr that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you within my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. There is not a moment where you do not take my breath away, and I will never seek to change you in any way. I will trust and respect you as your own person and realise that your needs are no more important than my own.

"I hereby promise to love you wholly and completely, without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in this life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I will grow along with you and I am willing to face change with you. I will always respect you, your beliefs, your people and your ways as I respect myself, as I am your partner and we shall be equal in all things.

"I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to have won the joy of such a consort, and I will forever delight in the love of you. I will cherish each tear to fall from your eyes, both in sadness and in joy, and I will do my best to ensure you are safe and secure, and to honour the love you have for me. To find someone as special as you, out of all in the Nine Realms, is something I never imagined possible. Today, Y/N, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

You couldn't stop the tears that welled up in your eyes as he finished, looking at you with such love and adoration you had to restrain yourself from kissing him then.

"And now, the bride will state her vows," Odin said.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Loki's hands. "I, Y/N of Midguard, by the life that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you in my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. I promise to love you when you are confident in yourself, as well as when you cannot bear your own reflection. I will love you when all is perfect, and when it seems all is falling apart. I promise to never judge you, nor your feelings, and to listen to you always, even when it's hard.

"From the moment our paths crossed you have surprised me, distracted me, captivated me, and challenged me in a way that no one ever has. I have fallen in love with you countless times, again and again, without reservation, and I still cannot believe that I am allowed the honour of being your bride.

"Whilst I cannot promise that dark clouds will never hover over our lives, or that the future will bring us many rainbows, I can promise that regardless of what lies ahead I will be by your side through all of it. You have my everlasting devotion, my loyalty, my respect, and my unconditional love.

"You are what makes my life a joy to live, and I vow to cherish every moment that I get to spend in your company. I would, on no uncertain terms, do anything for you. I will always choose you, in this life and every one beyond, in any world, and in any version of reality, I will find and choose you. Today, Loki, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

"Now," The Allfather said after a beat of silence, "The couple will now exchange their handmade daggers."

The two of you released each other's hands, and you turned behind you to receive the dagger that you had made for Loki from Frigga. At the same time, Loki had turned to Odin for the dagger he made for you. Turning back to each other, you each held up your daggers, then Loki leaned toward you and placed the dagger into your waist belt, and once he was finished you repeated his actions, placing your dagger into his waist belt.

"Present your rings," Odin said, and both of you complied.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," Loki said as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," You repeated, sliding the ring onto his finger.

Odin spoke once more. "Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard, today you celebrate one of life's greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love. As you have stated your vows with your lips, so you shall seal them with your lips."

Throwing your arms around your now husband, you pressed your lips to his with such force it was as though you had been starved of his kiss for years. The thundering applause and shrill cheers seemed to fade away as you kissed Loki, your fingers tangling in his jet black hair as his hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you, spinning you in a circle.

Setting you back down, Loki broke the kiss, leaning his head against yours and looking at you longingly. "I love you so very much, Y/N," He whispered with a smile.

"I love you, too, Loki," You whispered back, feeling happier than you had ever thought possible.

~time skip~

After you had changed out of your wedding dress into your reception dress, you and Loki enjoyed the festivities and feast for a while, dancing in merriment with everyone until Loki had pulled you aside.

"I need to speak with you," He said lowly, leading you over to the balcony. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, and Loki shut the doors, presenting you with a black box.

"What is this?" You asked, confused.

"I have one last proposal to make," He said, getting down on one knee. "If you truly wish to spend forever with me," Opening the box, a single apple that appeared to be made of gold rested inside, "All you need do is eat this apple."

Your throat felt tight as you looked at the apple. "Loki…"

"This is an Apple of Idun, it is what originally granted the Gods and Goddesses immortality, and if you wish, it will grant it for you as well," He explained.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you touched the apple. It was cool, and felt like a normal apple. Frigga's words from earlier when you voiced your fear of dying before Loki poured into your mind and you gasped. "Frigga-?"

"It was her idea," He admitted. "She convinced Idun to spare an apple in the name of love. Do you accept?"

You sank to your knees, putting yourself at the same level as Loki. "Forever?" You asked, searching his eyes.

"Forever," Loki replied sincerely.

Slowly grasping the apple, you considered the weight of what you were about to do. Were you truly ready to give up mortal life, to live for thousands of years like the people of Asgard?

Looking into Loki's blue eyes, full of love and hope, you knew the only answer was yes. For him, you would do anything.

Bringing the apple to your lips, you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh, biting a chunk out and chewing it slowly. It was sweeter than any apple you'd ever eaten on Earth, perfectly ripe with juices trickling down your chin. Taking another bite, you almost moaned at how delicious it was, reveling in the taste. It seemed the apple had no core, no seeds, so it was unable to be replanted, and you were able to eat the entire thing.

You felt something akin to the feeling of your limbs falling asleep, the tingling sensation spreading over the whole of your body. Your vision blurred, and you would have fallen back if Loki had not caught you and laid you in his lap. A strange, out of body feeling overtook you, as though you were hovering over the two of you, the body laying in Loki's lap no longer yours. It was as if the universe had poured a bit of its everlasting essence into your veins, feeling like the purest magic had filled your body. Then, as soon as it started, it was over.

Vision cleared, you looked up at your husband, seeing him much more clearly than you had before. Every strand of hair caught your attention, every wrinkle in his suit, every line in his hands.

"You are breathtaking," You gasped, your eyes wide in awe. "What just happened?"

Loki smiled softly. "You became immortal."

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Loki, and he grunted, your new strength taking him by surprise. "I cannot wait to spend forever with you," You whispered. "I love you so much."

"Nor can I, my love," He whispered back.

~ time skip ~

The two of you had rejoined the festivities, dancing and grazing on the plethora of food, conversing with the people of Asgard and your team, but now it was time for your honeymoon to officially begin.

Grasping your hand, Loki put his lips to your ear. "I do believe it is time we consummate our marriage, my love," He said lowly.

You felt heat blossom in your core, and blushed. Bidding goodnight to your team, you followed Loki out of the room, followed by a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. Tonight was the first night you were to be intimate with Loki in such a manner - he had been being watched by Heimdall and the Allfather most of the time the two of you had been dating, so you had only been able to steal kisses here and there. Not the most romantic, but it was better than nothing.

Now, however, as Loki pulled you to his chambers, you felt almost as nervous, if not more so, than you had before the ceremony. No one was watching you now, the two of you were utterly alone.

Loki stopped outside the door to his chambers, turning to you. For a moment you were confused, but then he scooped you up, bridal style, and carried you over the threshold. The door closed with a solid thud behind you as he walked you to his bed, setting you down gently. After the ceremony you had changed into a shorter dress, the hem reaching your mid-thigh, with a white skirt and lace top that wrapped around your neck. Now, Loki eyed it hungrily, wanting it off.

Gently holding the back of your head in his hand, Loki kissed you, laying you down slowly as he hovered above you. His lips claimed yours completely, his tongue swiping along your lower lip. You gasped lightly, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Feeling a familiar tingling sensation, you realised Loki had used his magic to remove the clothing from both of you, leaving you in undergarments, and you blushed, instinctively moving your arms to cover yourself.

Pulling back, Loki met your eyes. "Hear this now. You need never cover yourself in front of me. You are a treasure to behold, my love, and in my eyes, you are nothing short of perfection." His hands gently pried yours away from your body, his eyes relishing the sight. "There is not a single soul in the Nine Realms that I would rather be with right now, and not a single thing in the Nine Realms that could take me away from you. I love you, not only for your body but for your soul, your mind, your heart and your spirit."

He said every word with such sincerity, his eyes showing nothing but love for you, that you could think of only one thing to say.

"Kiss me."

He did, with an intensity that rivaled every other kiss he'd ever given you, including your wedding kiss. It was so filled with passion that you were certain no being in the Nine Realms and beyond had shared such a kiss before, it felt as though the universe itself was bowing from the vehemence of the kiss.

Every inch of your skin that Loki caressed seemed to be set alight, and you were certain that, had you not been holding him, you would have floated away to Valhalla. You felt his hardened member brush the thin lace veil that covered your core, and were unable to quiet the moan that fell from your lips as your hips bucked, desperate for more.

Loki's lips left yours, venturing down your jaw, your neck, your collar, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You were hot and cold all at once, your body nearly vibrating from the force of your arousal as his lips travelled lower, between your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs. He peppered delicate kisses along the inside of your thighs, looking up at you as his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties.

"Is this okay?" He asked, pausing.

"Oh Gods yes, Loki," You breathed, your chest heaving with the force of your breaths as you met his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the thin lace fabric down your hips, tossing them to the side as he took in the sight of your glistening core before him. He pressed two long, dexterous digits against your opening, sliding them inside of you and pumping at an agonisingly slow pace. His head dipped down, lips just barely brushing your sensitive nub, inhaling your sweet, musky odour before pressing a kiss to your core.

"Please, Loki, stop teasing me," You whined, gripping the sheets.

He smirked. "As you wish." With force, he launched an assault with his lips, his tongue expertly swirling around your nub whilst his fingers curled perfectly against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned loudly, fingers tangling in his soft raven locks.

Loki's free hand gripped your thigh so tightly as he devoured you, you were sure it would bruise. He moaned, sending delicious vibrations through your core and your orgasm ripping through you with a force you had never before felt, your body set aflame as his name fell repeatedly like a prayer from your lips.

Pulling his head back, your husband looked at you with dark, lust filled eyes as he brought his fingers, covered with your arousal, to his lips. Slowly, he put them in his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices before pulling them out and climbing on top of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and allowing you to taste yourself.

"You are sweeter than the finest søt vin," Loki said lowly.

Butterflies were no match for the hurricane that erupted in your stomach. "I want you," You begged softly. "All of you. I'm yours."

With a flick of his wrist, the rest of the clothing was removed from both of you. Your eyes moved down, almost of their own accord, taking in the size of his member. You were no virgin, and you were sure Loki wasn't, either but you had never been with someone of such size and girth, and it would be dishonest to say you weren't intimidated.

"I'll be gentle, love," He said softly, his hand caressing your cheek.

"I trust you," You replied, leaning into his touch.

Kissing you softly, you felt the God position his manhood at your entrance, sinking himself into you slowly. He groaned at your tightness, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he waited for your hole to adjust to his large size. The sensation of being so wholly filled by him was a bit painful, your walls stretching to their limit as they tried to accommodate him, and after a moment you bucked your hips.

Pumping into you slowly, the pain morphed into pleasure as your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper into you. He quickened the motions of his hips, the head of his manhood perfectly hitting your g-spot as he thrust into you. Both of you were moaning, your lips roaming each other, hands groping anywhere they could reach as Loki plunged into your opening again and again.

"Please, harder," You moaned, gripping his shoulders.

All too happy to oblige your request, Loki brought his hips to meet yours with such force that you saw stars. Moaning loudly, your nails dug into his skin as he thrust into you harder, his movements growing faster as you both neared your climax.

Wrapping his arms around you, Loki pulled you upright so that you were sitting on his lap, continuing to pound into you as he brought your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before nibbling lightly. Delirious with pleasure, you gripped his hair and pulled, earning a loud moan as his nails raked down your back. He smashed his lips to yours, and you bit his lip so hard it drew blood as your orgasm hit you with even more force than the first, your primal screams of pleasure filling the room as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, releasing his seed as he shouted obscenities.

After a final few pumps, he pulled out of you, the two of you falling back onto the mattress, limbs entangled and your head on his chest.

"I will never grow tired of that," You giggled, fingers drawing lazy swirls on his pale skin. "This has been the best day of my life."

Loki smiled. "It was mine as well." The two of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, and with a lazy wave of his hand, the window opened and a cool breeze wafted over the two of you.

"I love you," You said sleepily.

"I love you," He replied.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

[dokifluffs]

Baby Halloween | Suna, Osamu

Pairings: Suna X Reader (female), and Osamu X Reader (female) 

Genre: domestic, spooky, fluffy halloween

Author’s Note: Osamu’s is canon (it’s not but you can’t tell me he WOULDN’T DO THIS). you can’t tell me otherwise. suna’s is also long ah ha ha

Baby Halloween | Konoha, Sakusa // Baby Halloween | Kenma and Kuroo // Baby Halloween | Kita, Tsukishima 

Warnings! Haikyuu dads with kids, post time skip

Suna: gif from @rivaillerose​ 💛 

Small hands tugged on his hand and arm dangling off the edge of the bed  

He took a deep breath in and let out a longer breath as he stretched his body beneath the cover draped over his bare back

He laid on his stomach with one arm curled beneath the pillow half his face was smushed into, the other arm beginning to play with his little girl as she stood beside the tall bed of his

He twirled his fingers as she tried to catch them in her hands, her small voice letting out happy squeals as he played with her in her attempts to wake up her father 

He purposefully ticked her, beneath her chin, played with her hair, gently nudged her around as she stumbled with her balance, trying to hold down her dad’s arm

“Hm, what’s up squirt?” Suna’s voice was raspy and muffled as half his face was still smushed into the pillow, part of him still asleep 

“It’s halloween,” his little girl looked up to him with her bright yellow-grayish eyes and dark brown shoulder length hair, soft as anything he’s ever felt and it had always been this way when she was born

“Hm.. I see. Are you excited?” He pushed himself up as the blanket slid off his back, the sunlight shining through a crack in the curtains right onto him as he sat on the edge of bed, his bare feet meeting the fluffy carpet below

He pushed out a yawn, wiping away a stray tear that welled up in his eye as he scratched the back of his neck, stretching his torso

His little girl waddled and stood at his feet, reaching up to him 

“upsy daisy,” he mumbled as he bent down, lifting her up to sit her on his hip as he stood, carrying her with him to the bathroom as he washed up and she sat on the sink counter beside him 

he poked her plush cheeks, nuzzling them with the back of his index finger as she let out a big yawn, her little tongue sticking out as she did this and a little smile pulled on his lips 

she was quiet just like him

while in the middle of brushing his teeth, he watched her do the same with her tooth brush, and even tied her hair into a simple pigtail on the top of her head 

after washing up, he carried her out again, still in his pajamas which only consisted of black sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips as he walked into his little girl’s room, her small toddler bed unmade with half the little plush blanket hanging off the edge of the bed 

“what do you wanna be this year?” he opened the wardrobe, sliding her clothes on the hanger to the side, pulling forward her costumes 

“this one,” she quietly pointed, one arm hugging around her father’s neck, little fingers combed through the hair at the bottom of his neck as she pointed to the beige color little fox suit 

“alright,” he hummed as he set her down on his bed, pulling the costume off the hanger, helping her get her feet through the fox onesie, zipping it up 

she snuggled her face into the sweater paws of the costume as he pulled the hood up, little fox ears on top with a plush fox tail that dragged on the floor as she walked, following him back to his bedroom 

she bounced around, hopping on her two feet, excitedly looking back to her tail 

“are you a bunny now?” he smiled as he glanced down to her 

“no,” she giggled up as she hugged his leg as the two of them stood in the master closet 

“I guess I have to match with you,” he sighed as he pulled his old fox onesie, changing into it so now he was the papa fox and she was his baby fox 

Osamu: gif from @rivaillerose​ 💛 

“Y/N, are ya ready for the cutest costumes ever?” Osamu called from upstairs as you waited downstairs at the bottom in your own costume

Every year, well every year since your twins had been born, Osamu and you were to take turns dressing them up

Last year was their first halloween and you had the privilege to dress them and now this year, their second one was Osamu’s turn

“I’ve been ready for the last few minutes, ‘Samu, lemme see our babies,” you looked through your camera roll, looking back to last year’s photos that you took of their costumes which were a brown bear and panda bear while you and osamu were ice bears from the show “we bare bears”

A classic that you and Osamu loved to watch, even if it was pretty childish at times but still an amazing show for the two of you nonetheless

After all, having a marathon of that show ended up being one of your guys’s dates in college

And here the two of you were seven years later

Married, financially stable after a few rough two, almost three years since graduating from college but the hardships were over and it was smooth sailing for the two of you as Osamu’s success began to grow  

He was all you needed and you were his - but then again, this all changed when you showed him the pregnancy test, and your little munchkins came

“Alright, eyes closed,” Osamu called as you went back to your camera app, preparing yourself to see them

But then again, nothing could ever truly prepare you for the two lives Osamu and you had brought into this world

“We’re comin’,” you couldn’t keep your heart from racing so fast, you had to cover your eyes from peeking on their own

You could hear their steps, well, Osamu’s as well as the giggles and baby sounds of your kids in his arms as he did the thing he always did while stepping down the steps whenever he held them

He always added a little extra bounce to make them laugh

“You two ready to show mommy our costumes?” He knelt beside them, his arms wrapped around their bodies, hands on their plump bellies

The two nodded as you squealed, squirming around the back of the arm of the couch you leaned on

“I’m most definitely winning this year, okay open your eyes in 3…2…1…”

“Oh my god!” You instantly collapsed to your knees, walking on them toward your twins as Osamu had dressed your daughter as a sushi roll and your son as a bottle of soy sauce

“Her little wasabi headband,” you squealed as Osamu wore his Onigiri Miya uniform, serving the two of them to you as himself

The two of them babbled as they raised their hands, spouting out incoherent sounds that you assumed were meant to be words

Osamu and you had been trying to get then to either say “mama” or “papa” first but alas, it was still too early

“So did I win?” He leaned down as he stuck his face in between theirs, pressing their cheeks to both sides of his own

And this did it

The three pairs of eyes of the ones you loved most in this world were just staring back at you all so cute in their outfits

“Yes, yes, you win, oh my god ‘Samu, my heart-“ you rest your hand on your chest as you overflowed your phone with pictures of the two of them, getting them to hold hands, to sit beside the pumpkins on the front step of the house

It was too perfect, you couldn’t have asked for a better husband or life at this point

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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[little-diable]

A Preacher's Punishment - Preacher James Barnes (smut)

Here we go again, another super filthy Preacher imagine. Hell's awaiting us. Remember that your feedback and your comments are very much appreciated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She has always been rebellious and even months after first joining the convent the reader is still a trouble maker. Her case calls for Preacher James Barnes, hopefully his punishment will put her back in her place.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, oral (m), degrading, dom!Bucky, sex with a preacher, wrong use of a bible, religious connotations

Pairing: Preacher!James Barnes x nun!reader (around 3k)

„Don’t you dare look away from me now.” Sister Jane cried out as (y/n) rolled her eyes, trying to shift her weight back onto her toes, away from her aching knees. She had been forced to kneel in front of her, having to apologise for her reckless behaviour, her careless ways.

For months she had been part of the convent, dressed in black and white attires, with a big cross around her neck. (Y/n) detested each morning and evening, having to follow rules she couldn’t care less about, speaking prayers she felt burning on her tongue.

“What shall I do with you?” The sister circled the still kneeling girl, trying to fight against the urge to slap the young woman’s face. But just as her eyes found hers once again, a smile began to tug on her lips, arms falling to her sides.

“I will send you to Preacher Barnes, he will know how to put you back in line.” (Y/n)‘s breath hitched in her throat, saliva pooling in her mouth as she thought of the Preacher she was helplessly crushing on. If anything sister Jane was doing her a favour, allowing her to spend some time alone with him.

With aching knees (y/n) rose from the floor, tugging on her habit. Her mind raced, her palms were getting sweatier, heart jumping in accelerating beats. Would he punish her? Or would he just sit down with her and talk about her wrongdoings?

Her parents had always struggled to keep her in line, forcing her to stay at home, away from alcohol and young boys that could lure her in. But a locked door had never managed to stop her from sneaking out of her home. She had been a regular at parties of her friends, drinking till the morning would bleed red, telling her that it was time to go home.

Though the second police officers had dragged her home with her hands bound together, her parents had snapped. The next morning she had been forced to pack her bags, driving across the country to join a convent of nuns that lived in celibacy.

As (y/n) stepped back into the room she shared with sister May, her eyes fell upon her bag, the one she had tried to hide. Her fingers ached for her to unzip it, to thumb through the lacy panties and bras she had taken with her, not knowing where her parents were driving her to. How naive she had been, bringing her finest clothes to a home filled with women that only dressed in black and white.

Slowly she walked closer, studying the black fabric of her bag, the silvery zipper she wanted to tug on. Before she could stop herself she had opened her bag, smiling at the red lace panties her eyes fell upon. Maybe tonight she could finally wear them, maybe tonight would be her only chance to break free, turning back into the woman she once had been.

Hours later, after a shower and some tea to calm her stomach, she walked behind sister Jane. The red lace she wore stuck to her skin, wrapping itself around her like a warm embrace to keep her warm. She felt adventurous, a rebel nobody could stop from breaking out and running away.

“You will only speak if he allows it, you won’t look at him and you won’t roll your eyes at me. Do you understand?” The sister grasped (y/n)’s chin, waiting for the girl to nod her head, piercing her fingernails into her palm - a simple habit she lived with to stop herself from talking back.

“Please come in.” His soft voice ripped the two women out of their staring contest, eyes meeting his tall frame, the body hidden behind his black suit. Preacher Barnes was undeniably handsome, every nun would dream about him, even the ones that would punish the younger girls for crushing on a man twice their age.

(Y/n) stepped into his office with wobbly knees, she had never seen the room before, had only walked past his office once or twice, wondering what he was doing behind closed doors. She jumped as he placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the chair vis-a-vis his.

Sister Jane left the two after shooting another hateful glance (y/n)’s way, hoping that the girl wouldn’t embarrass her and the other nuns.

“Don’t worry about Jane, she has always been a bit harsh. Tea? Coffee?” The preacher turned away from her, giving (y/n) an opportunity to let her eyes wander down his frame, the long legs that carried his broad frame. On instinct her thighs pressed themselves tightly together, trying to stop herself from moaning out in pleasure as her mind began to paint a picture of her laying on his table, legs spread for him to nestle in between.

“Coffee, please.” Heat clashed through her, she would melt away like ice cream on a summer morning, like a burning candle in the heat of the desert. He placed their cups down on the table, settling next to her with a smile on his lips. For a few seconds he studied her with interlaced fingers placed in his lap.

“Tell me something about you, (y/n).” The way he spoke her name left her sweating, low and raspy, though soft and sweet, a written poem in the words only he knew.

“Uhm,” she had to clear her throat, eyes wandering around his room. “I joined the convent in August, I guess my parents couldn’t stay around me any longer.” A pained chuckle left her lips, eyes shamefully sticking to her hands, waiting for the Preacher to speak his mind.

“Do you believe in God?” He took a sip off his coffee, cleaning his lips with his tongue as his gaze burned into her soul. (Y/n) could only shake her head, her mouth felt dry, tongue not able to wet her lips.

“Let me tell you something, doll.” Preacher Barnes leaned back in his chair, combing one hand through his hair. “I have seen more prisons from inside than churches, my rebellious ways have pushed me into misery, just like you. But then I found God and I knew that something better was waiting for me, something worth fighting for.”

The moment felt like a déjà-vu, she had heard those words too many times before, and could swear that they had all studied them, knowing them by heart. Sister Jane’s words rang in her ears as she rolled her eyes in frustration, biting her lip to stop herself from talking back.

His chuckles filled the room, head thrown back. “Just as bratty as sister Jane has told me. Maybe words won’t do the job, stand up for me.”

She followed his command, standing on her feet with quivering limbs. Slowly he rose from his chair, fronts about to touch, (y/n) could smell his cologne, the musky scent that reminded her of the most sinful days she has lived through. His dark eyes ran up and down her body, leaving her waiting for his following order.

“Unbutton your habit.” She didn’t move, hands sticking to her sides, not daring to move even close to the buttons that kept her red underwear hidden. Now she cursed herself for being that stupid, not even a shirt had found its way beneath her habit, too confident and cocky for her own good.

“Do I need to do it for you? Are you that dumb, can’t even unbutton her own clothes.” His breath crashed against her lips, tingling on her skin. She felt her arousal dripping into her panties, wetting the skin with every word he spoke. Preacher Barnes placed a hand on her waist, pulling her even closer to reach the black buttons.

One button after another popped open, exposing more of her red lace, the tits she had pushed together with her tight bra. He clicked his tongue, eyes admiring the view. Since the day he had met her, there had been something simmering deep inside of him, threatening to spill, to fill his every vein and vessel. God was testing him, he was sending the most sinful woman his way, wondering if he would give into the devil’s calling.

“Onto your knees, open on page 225.” He placed the bible down in front of her, falling back in his chair once again. (Y/n), now dressed in only her bra and panties, dropped to her knees, opening the holy book with trembling fingers.

She couldn’t find the page, fingers too sweaty, eyes too glassy to concentrate on the bible. But the Preacher didn’t move, he waited and waited, a sadistic man that found pleasure in her struggling.

“First your habit and now the bible? I guess Jane was right, we need to find something else to shut you up with.” Her eyes followed his hand, down to his trousers, the silvery zip that twinkled in the faint light. It took three long breaths for him to undo his trousers, bulge clearly pressed against his underwear.

(Y/n) wasn’t sure whether to run away and hide or to open her mouth like the greedy girl she was. Her lips parted, exposing her tongue to the chuckling man, ready to swallow him all. But James wasn’t ready to give in just yet, he palmed his cock, stared at her face, the mouth she had opened for his heavy length.

Her eyes screamed at him to fuck her, to fuck her bratty ways right out of her, right on his table. Perhaps he could battle the devil in the dance he’d lure her into, how he would sway her with his cock sitting between her walls, perfectly ripping her in half. She was doing him a favour, was a figure in his play to find redemption.

“You know what you’re doing, that much I have to give you.” James panted, eyes fighting to stay open, holding onto the feeling of his calloused fingers pumping his velvety skin. (Y/n) used his short moment of distraction, pushing the bible closer to his frame, using it as a pillow for her aching knees.

Her hand met his, carefully pushing his fingers away to replace them with her own. For a second she felt lost with his hard length in her grasp, wondering what the hell she was doing on her knees for a preacher, but the moan that spilled from his lips pushed her back into her headspace, lowering her head to run her tongue across his tip.

James’ head rolled back, exposing his neck to her hungry eyes. Slowly she pushed herself down on his cock, trying not to choke around him. He twitched, she panted. (Y/n) hallowed her cheeks for him, pumping what she couldn’t reach with her trembling hands, using his thighs to keep her balance.

“You’re such a needy slut, choking on my dick while kneeling on a bible, there’s nothing I can do for you. You’re lost.” She didn’t pay any attention to his words, kept pushing herself to her limits, trying to swallow around him. Her tongue traced his veins, danced around his girth, trying to tease him for as long as humanly possible.

“And since you’re already lost, I won’t have any problems with doing this.” The tip of his shoe met her chest, pushing her onto her back with a cry falling from her lips. James grasped her hair, tugging on her roots to force her gaze upon his, grinning down on the shuddering girl.

He grasped his cock and kept on pumping his length, growling her name with sweat pearling on his forehead. She could tell that he was close, about to cum with her cowering away on the floor. No dignity was left in her body, not one single drop of confidence, just a puppet thrown away after its owner got bored with her.

His cum met her cheeks and the floor, making a mess on the holy ground, the office he would lock himself into as the devil was calling his name. She opened her mouth, desperate to catch some drops of his release, moaning at the taste.

“Clean the floor for me and then I want you out of my office, our time is over. I will see you next week.”

----

Each following day he would make sure that she would stumble across him, smiling at her with a dark look laced in his gaze. He was testing her, waiting for her to snap, but she didn’t.

(Y/n) kept to herself, not once did she dare talk back, wondering if the other girls had received a similar treatment from him. She even had called out the almighty father’s name, begging him for his guidance, a sign that would tell her what to do.

But the nights stayed dark and the days stayed calm, nothing that could push her onto the right path. She was lost and desperate to be found, no longer could she worry about sneaking out and finding places to explore, she was cowering away in her room, not daring to lift her gaze.

Seven days after their last meeting she found herself in front of him again. Naked without any fabrics hiding her skin from his eyes. James didn’t speak to her, not opening his mouth once as he watched her undress, placing herself on her knees.

He didn’t let go of her head as he pulled her towards his table, tugging her across the floor like a bag he didn’t care about. (Y/n) got pushed down on the table, watching him step out of his black trousers, pumping his already hard cock as he moved closer.

As she called out his name, hoping that he would snap into motion, James spat onto her exposed cunt, watching his saliva run down her folds, pooling on the wooden ground between her legs. Things you would only see in the movies the sisters would blush at naming seemed to be set in motion, primitive things you could only dream of.

“I-” she wanted to ask him for a second to breathe, her head was spinning, lungs burning from her rapid breathing. But the look he shot her seemed to shut (y/n) up, body tingling in anticipation, wondering how a man of God could be that dark and twisted.

“You won’t say a word, I promise if you go against me I won’t let you cum. Sluts like you don’t deserve to have their own will.” Her eyes rolled into her head, she gasped at the feeling of his cock stretching her walls, pounding into her like she was already used to his size.

She whimpered, she cried, she struggled to keep on breathing. James couldn’t help but admire her, looking fucked out, ready to drown in his embrace. With each stroke he managed to push deeper into her tightness, fucking her like she deserved to be fucked, ruthless and rough. (Y/n) wouldn't have a chance to stop him, could cry for help, though nobody would ever help her, they all knew better than to interrupt a preacher’s punishment.

“Only a sinner like you could take my cock, after tonight you will respect your sisters and you will thank God for each day he lets you live.” He pushed his fingers into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue, forcing her to swallow down the cry that threatened to claw through her.

Her back rubbed against the wooden table, skin scratched open, bleeding onto the surface. James cradled her head in his hands, softening each blow against the table, making sure that she’d stay conscious.

But (y/n) felt herself slipping into another dimension, away from the convent, from the preacher that fucked her like she was a regular coming to visit on a Friday afternoon. He was getting his fill, using her for his satanic pleasure and lust. And she didn’t mind.

“Tell me, how does it feel to be fucked by your Preacher?” Tears ran down her cheeks, swollen lips parted to let her words flow from them.

“So good, feels so good. I’m so close, can I cum? Please let me cum.” (Y/n) cried out, making sure that every nun could hear her begging. He replied with another ferocious thrust, tip meeting her swollen spot, pushing her further into the burning flames of hell.

“Cum on my cock, scream my name. God won’t help you this time.” And she came so powerful that the angels fell from their comfortable seats on the clouds above. Her cunt fluttered around his length, squeezing him tightly as if he would push her away any moment now.

James fucked her through her high, cupping her burning cheeks with his big hand. It took him three more thrusts to relieve himself into her tightness, forcing her to take every single drop of his cum.

“Tonight you will apologise to sister Jane and you will thank her for bringing you to me.” He pulled out of her with a groan rumbling through him, throwing her habit down onto her frame, making sure that she would dress herself. James didn’t give (y/n) any time to wipe away her smudged mascara nor could she untangle her hair.

Embarrassment flooded through her as she walked through the church with his cum dripping down her legs. But perhaps she still hadn’t learned her lesson yet, because with a smile on her face she ran her thumb up her thigh, licking her skin clean.

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[sub-danny]

I really need Niki to be put in his place, it is a Drabble so something small, some remark of his hitting where it shouldn’t.

The boy has to learn to keep his pretty mouth shout

I'm glad sub!Niki is finally getting appreciated! And how we all agree on how much of a brat he is.

I hope you enjoy this drabble I made V 😌, I've got a few more requests I'll get to over the week including another sub!Niki one so keep checking my account or the tag #subdanielbrühl to see more content!

I'd also like to thank my amazing beta reader @thesuitkovian for their help editing this! 😊💞

Warnings: Sub!Niki, f!reader, femdom, oral (f receiving), slapping, brat, slight praising,

The sound of the repetitive knocking upon wood as Niki’s fingers drummed on the table had your fists clenching the cutlery, the grooves of its pattern imprint in your hand as you look up from your plate.

Niki sits opposite you, his plate already cleaned and now he leans his face on his hand, letting out a huff of annoyance as he watches your plate, seeing how you slowly eat your food. His fingers drumming is a clear indication that he is bored out of his mind as he waits for you to finish.

When he notices you have stopped eating however his eyes flicker to your own making him frown.

“What?” he grunts.

“Is there a problem Niki, you seem to be bored.” you hiss back out at him, taking on the same annoyed tone he had given to you.

“Of course I’m bored! You’ve been eating for the past half an hour, could you be any slower?”

You glare at him for his rudeness, then slam your cutlery down onto the table, your appetite fading because of his attitude.

“We aren’t all racers like you Niki,” you glower at him, but Niki just rolls his eyes as he finally leans back in the chair and crosses his arms.

“That much is obvious. It seems I’m quicker than you with everything, including eating!”

You could feel yourself quiver with anger at his words, but then as you thought them over a spark lit in your mind. It burned brightly as ideas weave themselves together and Niki’s eyes narrowed at you as if he could see the way your eyes were suddenly alight with excitement.

“Yes, you do seem to be quite quick with that mouth don’t you, always coming up with remarks, annoying little comebacks. You’ve never known how to shut it up do you?”

For a minute it might have seemed as if he wouldn’t respond. His eyes widened with surprise from your comment and he sucks his cheeks to swallow back the shock, to think over the words, yet as typical Niki, he manages to find his voice again.

“Why would I want to shut up, I know how much you love my voice.”

You stand up from your place at the table, and slowly without taking your eyes off Niki you start to walk towards him. Niki watches with hesitance, like a rat caught in the gaze of a cat.

“Well you’re not wrong darling, I do love listening to your voice, all the precious little sounds you make,” you purr as you go to stand in front of Niki. You raise your fingers and place them on Niki’s chin and instantly he raises his face to stare back at you, unwilling to lose this staring contest. However, he almost finches when you move your fingers past his chin to trace his jawline, and then linger over his neck, pressing down slightly on the pulse that has started to beat rapidly against the smooth skin of his neck.

Ultimately, the intense eye contact between the two of you is broken when both your hands suddenly grasp the collar of his racing suit, the flaps which hadn’t been zipped up. He flinches and his eyes break from yours to glance down at the hands upon him with anticipation.

“But I know so many other things you could do with that mouth that doesn’t involve talking.”

Before he knows it you have stepped back and with all the strength you can muster you pull Niki to his feet. He sways unbalanced but manages to catch himself before he collapses back down, though he relies on the strength of your hands holding his suit up to continue to keep him steady.

“Y-y/n?” he manages to stutter out, all his previous attitude seemingly was starting to fade which makes you throw your head back slightly as you let out a light laugh.

“You’re beginning to sound better already.”

You don’t let him have another chance to speak as you let go of one side of the jacket and still holding the other you swiftly turn on your heel and drag Niki off to the bedroom.

You kick the door open and pull Niki in and instantly you walk straight towards an armchair you have in the bedroom, but before you decide to sit down, you turn back to Niki, raising your other hand back to the front of his jacket, this time however grabbing the zipper.

With one quick motion you tug the zipper down to his abdomen and push the front of it off his shoulders so that while the suit is still on him, the tight, white shirt he wore underneath is clear to see. You watch the way his chest heaves before you, his mouth open slightly as he watches your every movement, trying to guess what you should do next.

His tongue flickers out to lick his lips and he opens his mouth further to speak again but you don’t give him the chance. Your hands grasp the curly mop of hair upon his head and pull his lips down onto yours. You instantly pull his top lip into your mouth, biting it slightly and then moving your lips upon it. You let your tongue slip into his mouth and poke his own which started to eagerly follow your own movements as if dancing together in a ballroom of saliva.

A jolt of desire echoes through you as you feel Niki moan into the kiss, the vibrations of it seemingly working its way down your spine. Still holding onto his hair, your lips ravaging his, you take a step back and slowly sit down upon the seat and it makes Niki have to bend down and eventually get on his knees just to still be able to touch your lips.

When you eventually push him off you, he falls back on his ass, having to use his hands to catch him before his whole back collides with the floor. He’s breathing heavier now, his chest heaving in and out with every deep breath and he looked up at you with a sense of wonderment.

You tilt your head, observing his appearance then smiling wickedly at him.

“Why don’t you show me exactly what that mouth is good for.”

His mind becomes blank for a second, his eyes lingering on you till they slowly slip down to the crotch of your jeans that is now on display to him. With sudden vigour he shuffles forward on his knees, slotting his body between your open legs and bringing his hands up to the button of your jeans. As fast as he can he tugs the jeans and your underwear down, not wanting to waste a second of your time. He is able to pull them down to your ankles and when he looks back up he sees how wet your cunt has become for him.

“Shit y/n I-” he begins to say but suddenly his face is thrown to the side, instantly his right cheek stinging with sharp pain.

You lower your hand as Niki turns back to face you, the left side of his face now a bright red as the blood quickly flows to it. His eyes brim with tight tears from the sharp pain but his jaw hangs slack, his tongue quickly flicking across his overbite as he feels within his suit his cock twitch.

“I don’t want to hear another word leave your mouth, Niki. You only get to use your mouth for one thing now, and you better prove you are as good with it as you are with being an annoying brat.”

Another little moan leaves his lips as you order him about, and it means his arousal picked up more, but being the good obedient boy that you wanted him to be, he shuffles closer to you, placing his hands on your thighs to keep you held open as he firstly bumps his nose into your cunt, pressing it through the slit to smell your sweet smell and then finally he starts to kitty lick where he knows your clit is.

It makes a few sparks of pleasure run through you feeling the way his tongue lightly licks upon it, but you need so much more, and you know he could deliver so much more.

Your fingers find his hair again and feeling the soft curls getting wrapped in your fingers again, you push Niki even further into your cunt, to the point where he almost can’t breathe.

He got the message however and chooses to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking it with all the strength he can muster. Each little suction makes you feel like rocking your hips yet you hold back. You didn’t want Niki to start feeling like he has some power over you. You are the one in charge.

With your hand in his hair, you slowly push his face down further until his mouth is by your entrance. You can feel the way his overbite presses into it unlike the bottom part of his mouth, but you didn’t have long to focus on the sensation when you felt the warmth of his tongue eagerly press into you.

The sensation of his tongue pushing into you is maddening, the heat and wetness of it have your walls fluttering around him, trying to pull him in further. Obeying its command he pushes his tongue in as far as he can into you, thrusting in and out of you as fast as he can, excitement flooding him as he feels the way your thighs start to strain against his hands and how small moans leave your lips.

He starts to switch between focusing on your clit, lapping and sucking at it to thrusting his tongue greedily into you, moaning as he lets your juices coat it and he’s eager to taste you more. By now he is rock hard in his suit and he subtly shifts his body so that your leg fits between his knelt ones. Slowly he starts to thrust his hips into your calf, desperate for any slight friction on his aching erection.

You of course noticed his hard erection pressing against your leg, making you chuckle at how desperate he is for you. His cheeks heat up from embarrassment knowing he has been found out but he still desperately delves his tongue into you and lets his hips rut up against you.

“I’ll tell you what Niki,” you begin to say, and he stops his movements into your entrance for a moment to listen to your command. “If you make me cum in the next three minutes, I’ll let you cum inside of me.”

His breath hitches at the thought and with greed and urgency he buries his face back into your heat. You can hear how wet you became and the sounds of his lips smacking with your wetness, the slurping as he tried to drink it all in. Now you don’t hold back and start to move your hips upon his face, your grip in his hair pushing him in further as you didn’t bother to hide your moans and pleasure anymore.

“Fuck Niki, you’re such a good boy when you want to be. Isn’t this such a better use of your mouth? Better than all those annoying remarks you make, you-you, shit, you are so much better being underneath me, being forced to shut up and remember who is in charge of you.”

Your words cause Niki to groan into your cunt which makes your walls vibrate. As the time ticks down he pushes into you further and finally, his tongue presses inside you far enough that he hits that sweet spongy section of skin within you, making your hips quiver upon his face as you finally come.

You hold his face tightly to you as you ride it out, feeling his tongue attempt to lick up everything. You can feel the way his lips mouth onto your entrance, hearing him nonstop gulping as he takes it all in, and he lets out a little whimper as you finally pull his face away from you.

Your slickness is dripping all down his chin, his lips are red and puffy from the pressure upon them and he breathes heavily, gasping for air that he had been deprived of for the past five minutes.

“Such a good boy,” you whisper, taking your hand to trail his chin, picking up a part of your wetness and then placing it upon his lips, pushing it in and instantly he sucks your finger.

When you pull it out you smile down at him, pleased by him.

“Go lie down on the bed Niki, and don’t you dare say anything.”

He obeys your command.

[mrfeenysmustache]

Next one! Kagome + Sesshomaru + Dog Park.

Please and thank you!

Was I sort of inspired by 101 Dalmatians? Maybe.

This is an AU

Dog Park Drama

‘Why did I become a lawyer?’ Sesshomaru thought with a heavy sigh as he scrolled though his never ending load of emails, wandering aimlessly through the dog park that cut his walk home nearly in half.

Since he technically was a dog, and a super predator on top of it, he was usually left alone by the canines running and playing through the grass, and it blessedly seemed like today would be one of those days that he was given a wide berth.

His current client was just such an idiot, and every single turn uncovered a new level of stupidity that Sesshomaru needed to scramble to make up for.

He was not getting paid enough for this particular case, of that he was certain.

He just wanted to be home, where he could be alone and decompress.

Though ‘alone’ was a state of being he was growing more and more tired of.

Life as it was with his stress and schedule, and his usual tendency to be taciturn, made it hard to meet people and make a connection.

But there was nothing for it today, he didn’t have the energy to make an effort to put himself out there, and he was far too old for dating apps and websites, he would just-

“Oi, sir!!! SIR!!! Watch out!!”

“OOF!” He landed on the pavement with a thud, and suddenly he was caught in a tangle of leashes, licking tongues, scrabbling claws and… someone else’s limbs.

“Oh my gods I’m SO SORRY!”

“Are these all your dogs?!” He asked incredulously, and the woman currently peeling herself off his chest frantically pulled hyper dogs off of him.

“No! I’m just walking them!”

“Why?!”

His suit was being torn to shreds, and though he knew he could have all the dogs gone with one quiet growl and carefully focused wave of yoki, he was still in public in his cloaking spell, and he couldn’t risk exposing himself to strangers.

“Because my brother owns a dog walking business and he’s sick! I’m trying to help! I’m not good with dogs!”

“Obviously!”

The dogs raced around both their feet, and she tripped and fell into his chest as their ankles were bound tightly together.

He reached up to grab her forearms and steady her, and when skin met skin they both gasped as reiki and yoki reacted and zipped through their bodies.

“You’re a…. Yokai…”

“A miko….”

It had been far too long since he’d run into a Miko, and by the look in her eyes, which he noted were a very pretty shade of blue, she was more surprised by his heritage than afraid of it.

Cat out of the bag, he flared his yoki again and all the dogs quieted, sitting quiet and docile as they untangled themselves.

“I.. I really am so, so sorry.” She said, cheeks glowing bright red as she once more got the dog leashes in hand.

“It is alright, no harm done.”

She lingered for a moment, and he searched her face, the feel of her reiki surging in both embarrassment and barely concealed excitement, scented her curiosity.

Her scent was surprisingly attractive.

And so was she.

“Well I… guess I should-“

“Wait.”

“Yes?” Her eyes shined with anticipation, and he glanced over to where he could see the entrance to his apartment complex.

The place he would go and be alone.

He was tired of alone.

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?”

“Are you… are you serious?”

“I never joke.”

She blinked owlishly, then blinked again, and then a small and genuine grin spread across her face.

“I think I would like that. Very much.”

“You may consider it repayment for the suit your dogs destroyed.”

She giggled, handing him her phone so they could exchange numbers.

“I thought you didn’t joke?”

“I do not.” He said with a smirk, typing in his name and number, enjoying the musical sound of her laugh, the soft feel of her fingers in his when she took her phone back.

“Sesshomaru.” She read off the phone screen. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kagome.”

“Kagome.” He repeated, loving the sound of it already. His phone chimed; a text from her so he would have her contact information as well. “I will be in contact.”

She smiled, wrangling the dogs back into a semi-cooperative group, and then winked at him.

“I’ll be waiting.”

[purple-goo-writes]

SnapShots: MariFlash One Shots

Snap 3: Barry Allen: Policeman by Eva Simmons

Hey, Mr. Policeman I don't want no trouble I just wanna drop my jiggelin' down to the floor Hey, Mr. Policeman Why you wanna holla at me?

I just wanna drop my jiggelin' down to the floor No arrest badman mind ya bizz No arrest badman mind ya bizz No arresta baddaman mind ya business Down to the floor (bring 'em down)

Barry felt like swearing as Medusa got away yet again! This was starting to piss the Scarlet Speedster off like nothing before! And what’s worse! 

It didn’t help that she was very distracting in another way...

Barry could have sworn he had her… like he had already captured her and yet he was hit with a sinking feeling of deja-vu as he goes to grab her only for Medusa to simply twirl out of his reach again and somehow manage to paralyze him (Again!) with that damn Venom Shot of hers! The hooded snake themed rogue driving him up the wall with how she constantly got the upper hand in their battles. It was like everytime he got the upper hand she was one step ahead of Barry, even when he was pretty sure he had surprised her… 

Wait…

It was like she always knew what he would do next and each time it was after Medusa touched the snake bracelet wrapped around her right wrist behind the stinger. She usually did that before hitting him with the large stinger (shaped like a snake fang) protruding from the wrist of her gauntlet. He wondered why only her right hand wore a gauntlet… What if it was because she needed to have her left hand free in order to touch the bracelet behind the stinger?

The Flash just may have a way to capture this rogue before she can rob another jewelry store. Though, he wondered what she was looking for given she hasn’t stolen anything, just broke in. Either way, next time he will be better prepared for him.

Luck seemed to be on his side, as Barry was once again called into another jewelry store break end. Seriously how many jewelry stores were there in Central City? The Flash was off like a shot as he raced to apprehend Medusa finally. This time the snake would not be getting away from him!

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” Flash quipped as he skidded into the Kay Jewelers on 15th Street, tsking as he saw the broken glass cases. “Seriously what are you so determined to find?” The snake turned to him, emerald lips pulling into a smirk showing off a slight hint of fang as her blue eyes glittered with mischief, “Oh the speedy mouse has come to play again?” Medusa purred whilst she slowly trailed a hand up the front of her skin tight body suit and armor, “Should I be flattered about all the attention you pay me, mousey?” 

It annoyed Barry that he was so distracted by such a simple action, though he had to admit that Medusa was very attractive. He blamed the fact that apparently he was attracted to strong and confident women, even if they were villains. The suit didn’t help matters with how it hugged and left nothing to the imagination without revealing any skin outside the lower half of her face where her hood and mask didn’t cover. It was mainly emerald and black with the black being the armored pieces and the emerald being patterned like diamondback scales, gold was sprinkled throughout the suit accenting certain areas. Barry wasn’t even sure what color her hair was due to it constantly being covered by the snake hood. 

“I wouldn’t be flattered. I’m going to bring you in this time, Medusa.” Barry snapped out before charging her, trading high speed blows with the villainess. He just needed to keep her from using the bracelet!

Unfortunately, Medusa was as dangerous as she was attractive. Case in point the number of times she has thrown him through a wall with surprising amounts of strength. Like just now as the snake managed to catch Barry by surprise long enough to grab his wrist and judo flip The Flash over her shoulder. 

Shit! He managed to zip away just in time to dodge her Venom Shot. 

Not this time! 

They continued to trade blows, with Barry having to continue to dodge the painful sting of her gauntlet. Finally, he managed to grapple her to the ground, holding her hands above her head. And trying rather hard not to think about the rather compromised position they were in. Barry felt a blush bloom on his cheeks as Medusa looked up at him with amusement, clearly not bothered that she was just captured and would be going to jail soon. 

“Now we just need to wait for the police to arrive,” Barry huffed whilst trying to ignore just what this would look like when the others arrived.  

Medusa chuckled, before arching up pressing close to Flash grinning when the superhero stiffened, “Oh, do you have me where you want me, mousey?”

Flash felt the blush staining his cheeks getting darker as Medusa pressed closer, one of her legs moving to let him settle between her thighs causing him to squeak, “Miss! This is highly inappropriate.”

“Awww, but flirting with you is half the fun of the battle,” the snake purred, loving the way Flash’s face was now as red as his suit whilst she pressed closer. Leg hooking over his hip, letting Medusa grind up against Barry causing him to squeak again, his hold on her wrists slacking some from the shock, “Besides, you are such a cute little mouse to play with.” “Why do you keep-” His words were cut off by Medusa pulling a hand out of his hold and using it to pull the startled blond down into a heated kiss. Barry groaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut before stiffening in pain as his whole body went stiff as a board. “Oh, little mouse, never assume you caught a snake,” She purred, easily rolling them over so that Barry was laying on his back with Medusa straddling his paralyzed form. He mentally groaned as the villainess slowly stood before striding out of the jewelry store after blowing him a kiss, “Until next time, Flash~”

[ckneal]

Sometimes I need to remind myself that not everyone watched Supernatural with an ongoing gen fic happening in their head, all about the family life of the angels before Chuck’s disappearance and the rise of humanity. And as such, not everyone was constantly compiling stray details thrown out about the angel characters, clustering them together into this rubber band ball of ideas that was just so fun to play with.

I mean, for instance, not everyone took in the way the other angel characters seemed to look down their noses at the cupid characters (who, it’s worth noting, are never once referred to by their individual names, but instead by the human pet name for their category of cherub [which in Lucifer’s case, was certainly framed as an unflattering term], despite Castiel once boasting that he knew everyone in Heaven), and reason to themselves that it was surely because the other angels were jealous. Because obviously, the cupids are given classified information from God himself about what bloodlines he wants to see continued and merged for the sake of his Plan, putting these silly, non-combatant angels on par with the archangels in terms of secret knowledge about what was to come. For the first couple billions of years of existence, while the other classes of angels were sitting around with nothing to do, they all had to watch the cupids happily zipping around the earth, cooing over blue-green algae and gradually coaxing different species into existence with their magic love arrows. And every time a significant milestone was reached, they also had to watch as the insipid little harbingers of love scooped the newborn creature up and raced over to the nearest archangel to excitedly show them their progress, like a little kid with their first art project. And the archangel in question, regardless of which one, would nod encouragingly and smile as the cupid in question babbled about the tiny, tiny lungs this fish had, or the beginnings of feet at the ends of its fins. Even Lucifer, who would also add the additional suggestion to try and give the next one more teeth.

Additionally, not everyone looked at the way that Lucifer was able to just insert himself into Sam’s head from inside the cage, and considered how Azazel needed to visit a specific geographic location to communicate with Lucifer, and even then was only just barely able to do so, and thus came to the conclusion that clearly Michael and Lucifer must have come to an agreement to pool their powers to project Luci’s image into Sam’s head. Which explains why Sam’s special link disappears right after leaving the cage, and also why Michael didn’t interfere when Lucifer was freed, even though season 15 makes it clear that Luci did not sneak quietly out the backdoor. Michael was fully aware who was responsible for the jailbreak, thus leading us to consider that perhaps Lucifer was supposed to turn around and free Michael and Adam in turn, but did not. Thus leading us to imagine Michael spending roughly a year (Earth time) tapping his foot in the cage, until . . .

“He’s not coming back for us, is he?”

And Adam, cracking open a molecule-flavored soda (manifested courtesy of Michael), snickers. “Nope. Told you not to trust him.”

“Right. . .” Michael exhales, looks around for a moment, settles on side-eyeing Adam. Then, with an air of ‘fuck it’ says, “Want to make out?”

And Adam promptly chokes on his soda.

And not everyone heard Metatron specifically say that he personally tattooed the names of every prophet of the Lord ever on the inner eyelids of every angel, and immediately had the thought, “Poor Michael” spring to mind. Because of course Michael was the first one on the proverbial chopping block, trying his best not to flinch as his little brother gradually figured out how to handle the needle. (To this day, Michael is still not sure if the prophet after Chuck Shurley is named Kevin Tran or Rovim Frun). And all the while, Michael was probably also trying his best not to worry about how things were going on Earth while he was busy getting his eyes stabbed.

After all, Lucifer was God’s second eldest son, barely younger than Michael in the grand scheme of things. He could handle watching over their younger siblings for a little while. And Raphael and Gabriel were there to help. Everything would be fine.

However, Michael isn’t aware that about five minutes after being left in charge, Lucifer yelled, “HEY EVERYONE, CHECK THIS OUT!” And then promptly threw his grace into the body of a nearby pterodactyl. Possession being a new ability that Chuck had recently invented, the surrounding angels were mystified as Lucifer piloted the prehistoric reptile through a series of dizzying loop-de-loops that saw the poor creature—not suited to containing angel grace—explode midway through, leaving Lucifer gleefully giggling in the sky.

About half of the angels looking on gaped in horror.

Gabriel whispered to Raphael, “We’re still beta testing that, right?”

The other half of the gathered angels, however, like the impressionable young followers that they are, start grinning, because Lucifer is grinning, and he’s their cool older brother, and as Lucifer—relishing the attention—makes a beeline toward the earth’s one continent, Pangea, and an unsuspecting herd of ornithopods, these younger angels eagerly follow.

Soon, Earth is full of the anguished cries of cupids, watching their hard work blown to bits again and again. Swept up in the crowd, are Castiel and Balthazar. They watch Uriel and Zachariah excitedly throw their armored dinosaur bodies against one another in the moments before both vessels combust, after which Uriel and Zachariah excitedly dart off to take on new ones.

“Are we sure this is. . .okay?”

“Well, Lucifer is in charge. We’re supposed to follow his lead. . .aren’t we?”

Meanwhile, Raphael is frantically trying to stem the carnage. Several dinosaurs are levitating in mid-air, as Raphael tries to simultaneously keep them from exploding while also ordering the angels possessing them to vacate the vessels immediately. But none of them have ever taken a vessel before, and do not know how to get out of them without tearing them apart. Raphael keeps expanding their powers to more and more creatures as their young siblings continue to follow Lucifer’s example.

“GABRIEL, DO SOMETHING!”

“RIGHT!” Gabriel looks around, locates Lucifer running amuck in an apatosaurus that he’s forcing to walk on its hind legs, and fires off a lightning bolt to startle him out.

The lightning bolt misses its target in spectacular fashion, and several trees catch on fire.

Gabriel throws another lightning bolt.

“GABRIEL, THAT IS NOT HELPING!”

“RIGHT!”

Gabriel then grabs a giant meteor from outer space and begins trying to smother the flames by whacking it against the continent, to Raphael’s horror. More cupids begin to cry. Thick clouds of dust fly up, choking out natural light on the planet’s surface—now only illuminated by flames, as well as the magma that rises up out of the cracks that form in Pangea, as Gabe unintentionally creates the first tectonic plates from the sheer force of his assault on the planet.

Trees fall over. Fire continues to spread.

Lucifer is still in the apatosaurus, but he’s fallen onto his side, laughing hysterically.

“WATER, GABRIEL! USE WATER!”

“OH! RIGHT!”

Gabriel throws the meteor into a nearby sea, creating a tsunami.

It is at this point that Raphael abandons the dinosaurs to their sad fate, forgetting their solemn oath to not reveal any secrets regarding evolution and God’s plan, to broadly yell out to any and all of their angelic siblings who are listening, “QUICKLY, SAVE THE MAMMALS!”

And it is at this point, that Michael returns. Samandriel, clutching a dozen or so rodents in his wings, is the first one to spot him. All of Michael’s eyes are red and puffy from abuse. The cupids are sobbing, the Earth is battered, flooded, and scorched. Angels are getting into fist fights with reapers as they dart back and forth, trying to ferry as many warm-blooded creatures as they can find from the site of the catastrophe to the relative safety on the other side of the mountain range Gabriel accidently made when he bashed a crater into the planet—relative, as it turns out some of those new mountains are in fact volcanoes, and it took some trial and error to figure out how far away from an active volcano could be considered “safe.”

Nearby, Castiel and Balthazar are somehow both stuck inside the same mosasaur, beached from the tsunami, and loudly panicking as they struggle to de-possess it before it explodes. There’s a snapping sound, and then suddenly all of the angels still trapped (or willfully frolicking) inside vessels are ejected, at the same time that the fire goes out and the volcanoes cease erupting.

Consequently, everyone goes very still as Michael scans the damage and his bedraggled siblings. With humans not yet existing, the art of facepalming is not yet a thing. But looking at Michael, one might just expect him to invent the practice right then and there.

When Michael gets to Lucifer, he’s greeted with, “What? Pop’s 86-ing the lizard kingdom anyway!”

Michael promptly drags Lucifer off to Heaven.               

The next day, it was made an official rule, written into the very fabric of angelkind: vessels could only be taken after obtaining explicit consent.

Additionally, everyone agreed to never, ever mention the existence of the dinosaurs or how they ended ever again. And, rather than fixing the damage to the Earth’s surface, the tectonic plate situation was just sort of left to do as it would.

Many, many years later, Adam was shocked by Michael’s reaction when the cage door suddenly swung open in Hell. Adam had immediately surged to his feet in excitement, ready to leave and never come back.

Michael, however, remained stationary on the floor, squinting at the doorway, wondering what dystopian nightmare must be waiting on Earth after leaving his siblings unsupervised for a solid decade.

“Michael? You okay?”

“Adam, before we go back to Earth, I think I need to tell you a story. . .”

[carnationcreation]

7 with Luke please

TITLE: Uniform troubles (Luke Patterson x reader) [Marching Band AU]

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Please check bio to see if requests are open before sending any in! 

Request: 7 with Luke please (Marching Band au)

Prompt/summary:  Luke really likes to bother the drum major in the marching band.

Word Count: 1,219

Authors note: I KNOW LUKE PLAYS GUITAR NOT DRUMS BUT HE GIVES ME CENTER SNARE PERCUSSION VIBES!!!! Also I didn’t really know where i was going with this so sorry if the plot seems weird, I was writing in between my online classes today

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

Some people say all drum majors have an ego.

I’d truly like to think I don’t, but I would be lying if I said I was always humble on my podium above the band.

It truly is a rush, having everyone stare at and rely on you to lead them in the right direction. I couldn’t do it all on my own of course, my section leaders are a big help in keeping everything in order. My band director handles things that are too big for me.

I never had any problems with section leaders. Well, except for a few.

Reggie Peters and Luke Patterson. 

Both high brass and percussion section leaders.

AKA dumb and dumber to the rest of the band.

“(Y/n)!”

I ran into the uniform room to see the youngest member of the percussion stuck inside a drum case while Luke and Reggie frantically try to unlatch the case.

“It’s stuck!”

I set to work on the other latches, “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know!” he says, “He asked to be put in there!”

I rolled my eyes, finally after a few minutes of hitting at the rusted latches on the old drum case the boy finally popped his head out and wriggled the rest of his body to freedom.

“I swear Patterson if someone gets stuck in another case you’re on your own.”

His eyes widened, “Don’t tell Mr. Lockmore.”

“I’m not that cruel, just make sure it doesn’t happen again. You too Peters,” I said.

 Game days brought a different kind of hectic. Everyone running around trying to find uniforms, instruments, and equipment made it to where you couldn’t take more than a few steps without running into someone. 

Color guard always got ready during forth block. They took the most time due to having to curl and style hair as well as apply the show makeup they chose for this years theme.

After they cleared out of their room I would begin my process of getting ready. My hair took the most time so I did that first after putting my uniform on. 

BLAM!

The door burst open causing my to drop my curling iron.

“Fuck!” I shouted as the iron hit my thigh.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

I saw Luke trying to zip up the back of his uniform, “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

“Everyone’s lining up, can you zip me?”

I sighed before carefully zipping up the back and adjusting the rest of the uniform, “You really need to start actually folding this.”

“I always have to load up the percussion equipment.”

“Ah,” I said, I sighed, “Well hand it to me tonight and I’ll put the uniform up.”

“Really?” he said, his eyes lighting up and i giggled lightly.

“Sure.”

“You’re the best (Y/n)!” he shouted as he ran back to the percussion cabinet to grab his snare.

The schools fight song played loudly over the screaming fans. Everyone wore wide smiles as we filed out of the bleachers and back into the band room. After loading up my podium onto the band trailer for the competition the next day, I slowly walked back to the school. Most students had already left by the time I got there.

I saw Luke struggling to tell his section what to do and fiddle with folding his uniform.

“Give it here.”

He turned with a wide smile and handed me the rest of it, it took me a second to realize he was shirtless and my face started to turn hot.

He slipped a cut band tee over his head and started lifting the drum cases into their storage area.

I folded the suit carefully before placing it in the bang and hanging it up on the rack under his name.

“You really have it bad for him,” I heard from behind me. 

Alex Mercer, the color guard captain, gave me a smirk and patted me on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, half the band has a bet going on when you two will get together.”

“What?” I squeaked, my face growing hot again.

“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow!”

I went into the color guard room to get ready to go home. I let my hair down from it’s decorative style with a sigh of relief. 

I reached behind me to unzip the back of my uniform, I fumbled for it with my fingers for a few moments. Sighing, I stood up to try and get a better reach. 

“Need some help?”

I jumped at the sudden sound, “You scared me, and yeah can you get it for me?”

He brushed a few strands out of the way, his fingertips against my neck caused goosebumps to raise on my skin. I felt the cold air against my back and for a second I was worried he saw my bra.

Thank god I always wear a tank top underneath.

“Thanks,” I said, it was almost a whisper.

“I didn’t see your parents, do you have a ride home?” he asked.

“Ugh,” I said, my arms held the uniform up against my chest so it wouldn’t fall down. 

He noticed my discomfort, “Oh I’ll-”

“Yeah can you-”

“Turn around,” we both said at the same time. He gave me a shy smile and I giggled.

He turned so his back was facing me.

I slipped the uniform off and grabbed my comfy clothes to change. The leggings and baggy sweatshirt felt great after a long night in the tight uniform and cold air.

“So, do you need a ride?” Luke asked again.

“I was gonna wait till my mom got off at midnight, but if you’re offering I’ll take it.”

I went to move past him but just as I did he turned causing my to crash into his chest. My hands caught on his arms that had wrapped around me

“Sorry!” he said.

I giggled.

“I always seem to be causing you trouble, don’t I?”

I smiled and pulled back, my hands still lightly on his arms, “Not any more trouble than I can handle.”

“Oh, so miss preppy drum major likes trouble?” he smirked.

“Preppy? Who calls me preppy?” I tried to play off my blush as confidence.

He giggles, “No one except me. But I don’t think preppy is the right word.”

“What is the right word?”

“Pretty-” he says quickly before realizing what he said. His eyes go wide.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I- I’ve always thought you were pretty. I was glad when you became drum major cause it gave me an excuse to stare at you...”

I smile and duck my head, again to hide the blush forming. 

His hand slowly lifts my chin up and his palm goes to my cheek.

My eyes must’ve been filled with shock or nervousness because his next question confuses me, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay.”

His face got within an inch of mine and I really, really, hoped he couldn’t hear my heart racing.

My phone buzzes.

“Sorry,” I wince but giggle, “Well I guess I really do need that ride, my mom won’t be coming home till late.”

Luke stares at me.

“Luke?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, we should get going.”

I lean forward and place a light kiss on his cheek before rushing out to his car. 

Luke whispers to himself, “I owe Alex twenty bucks...”

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