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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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Public Relations [Avenger!Loki x Fem. Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is here Summary: A carefully planned PR appearance goes awry. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Asshole Loki! returns. Language. Smuttish. (w/c 2.1k) A/N: This is the Hostile F*cks Collection epilogue. I just really really wanted this. 🤣

The heat from the set lights was making you sweat. A live studio audience sat forward in their seats, hanging onto your every word. Onto Loki’s every word. So far he had been very well behaved, following Rogers detailed instructions to the letter. Polite. Friendly. Charming. Restrained. He had stuck to the script religiously. And that was what you were worried about.

“I gotta say when the press release came out it wasn’t a huge surprise – we all saw the infamous red carpet moment at Cannes huh?!” The man across his desk smarmed relentlessly with teeth an unnatural shade of white against his deep tan. He hadn't wasted time before referencing the time Loki had squeezed your ass in full view of a wall of paparazzi a few months prior. Your eyes darted to the god lounging beside you, totally at ease. He ran a hand though his hair, a soft smile and a chuckle playing feigned embarrassment to perfection. “You guys have such great chemistry - such a connection.” the sanctimonious asshat crooned, swivelling towards the audience who cheered in approval. News of your relationship had been officially announced earlier in the week – and it was time for the PR tour. The man swung back to face you both. “So tell me, has it always been that way?” The aching smile stretched on your face widened as you began to nod. “-Hardly.” Loki cut in. “She despised me. Couldn’t stand me. Always had a certain look in her eye like she wanted to hit me with a blunt object. It was quite hilarious.” You snapped towards the god, practised smile faltering as you threw him a death glare. “Oh, look! There it is now.” he quipped, relaxing back against the red armchair with fingertips crested together. Your hand flew to Loki’s knee amid a sea of giggles at your expense, digging in as you chuckled through gritted teeth. “He’s exaggerating.” you smiled. “Ohhh...I don’t think so.” the host drawled through a shit-eating grin, as a montage began to play on the screen to his side. Your stomach churned, watching a selection of newsreels and phone recordings from the early days of your dalliances. Endless clips of you rolling your eyes in Loki’s direction, your stare narrowed behind him as he charmed the press– and one particular damning shot of you staring shamelessly at his ass. The host cocked an eyebrow as you squirmed. Loki’s fingers intertwined with yours, lifting your death grip from his knee. He raised the back of your hand to his lips with a calculated kiss, shooting you a wink before lowering it back to his thigh. The crowd clapped and cooed. “It’s alright, darling Agent. We’re among friends. Isn’t that right?” The crowd clapped again, the cheers louder. God, he was insufferable when he was like this.

You cleared your throat, lowering your lashes and looking back at the host with devilish intent. Two could play at this game. “He made it his mission to be the biggest arsehole on the face of the planet.” you purred.

“-on most planets, actually. It’s a point of pride.” Loki interjected. The audience laughed. You shook your head with a puff. “No it was targeted” you snipped, not letting your gaze break from the host’s wide eyes as Loki huffed theatrically behind you. “He had all these...outfits. And the things he would say and the games, god it drove me mad.” “-yes, mad.” Loki smarmed playfully, placing his hands behind his head as he widened his legs against the arms of the chair. “Mad with lust, perhaps.” Your eyes flickered briefly to the audience, an elevated sea of faces turned in covert whispers and giggles to their companions. Desire was thick in the room, sexual energy pulsating in electric waves. A shared erotic experience that hung on Loki’s every movement. On his every syllable. “Tell us more about these outfits.” You looked back to the host with a coy smile. It was clear Loki was feigning some level of shyness by the coquettish squeaks rising from the crowd. Crossing your legs, you turned your body towards the desk. “Oh, well, it all started with a wetsuit…” A mass of voices ooo’ed. The collective mental imagery may as well have been projected on the wall. “A particularly slutty caftan, catholic priest vestments I’m sorry to say...and some extremely tight fencing pants among others.” you said, leaning your chin against your palm. “What in the world are fencing pants?” the interviewer gasped, before flashing the nearest camera a knowing grin. Christ, he was really laying it on thick. His eyebrows wriggled suggestively to the lens, as Loki straightened. The screaming was sudden and entirely predictable. You didn’t even have to look to know that your lover’s body was sizzling with seidr, green sparks rolling down his perfect form to reveal the aforementioned fencing pants. “Well heckers, as our mutual friend Captain Rogers would say.” The host fanned his face as he spoke while the audience lost their minds. And honestly, you couldn't blame them. With reluctance, you turned to face your lover, his thighs still sprawled wide in the chair. A long finger grazed his bottom lip, the rest curled covering a smile as he shot you a sultry wink. A pair of black fencing pants clung to his bulging muscles beneath the set lights, every dent and ripple highlighted in obscene definition. Loki’s thighs squeezed. God, they were so thick and delicious and perfect...it was all you could not to drool alongside the audience. He had forgone a shirt beneath the ensemble on this occasion, because of course he had. Thick straps were set tight like liquorice against luminously fair skin. He was wearing the socks though, you noticed. He loved those slutty socks. Chiselled abs tightened as he straightened again, rolling his shoulders back while the crowd continued to bay. This might not have been quite the PR event Rogers had in mind but you had to give it to Loki, he knew his fans. “For posterity, they are a type of training attire for the sword arts which I have grown rather fond of in your realm.” Loki drawled, sweeping his hair to expose that devastating profile to the onlookers. “Simultaneously form fitting and with enough elasticity to accommodate lunges and...other things.” He looked to you with an unmistakeable hunger which made your stomach flip. The host cleared his throat, a disappointed hum from the audience vibrating as Loki’s magic shimmered, transforming him back into his Saville Row suit. “Well frankly I can see why she never stood a chance.” the man behind the desk muttered slyly. You could feel your cheeks heating again.

“I will admit it was rather difficult to have her confess her inevitable feelings for me-” “Excuse me, I was difficult?” you gasped. “Well...yes.” Loki laughed, bringing a foot to rest on his knee. “You’re the one that won’t use my actual name in public.” you scoffed. The host leant forward, relishing the brewing tiff. “Ah, I was going to ask about that – it’s always ‘Agent’ this and ‘Agent’ that, what gives Mr Laufeyson?” You rolled your eyes, as Loki cast a coy glance in your direction. “Well to be frank...I do it to annoy her.” he admitted, a smile making his dimples flash. You nodded in confirmation towards the grinning audience. “But if she’s honest with herself, she loves it.” Loki inspected his nails before impaling you with another stare that made your breath hitch. “She finds it arousing. Don’t you...Agent?” he smirked. You brought your hands up in surrender as the crowd cheered, loving every toe-curling second of this ridiculous late-night shitstorm. “I think what Loki is trying to say, is that we’re like any other couple, really-” “-we’re not.” Loki interjected with an incredulous snort. “-and we have our...disagreements and quirks and suchlike, but you know...we love each other so -it works.” you continued un-phased, smiling sweetly to the host. His smug, botoxed grin made you want to punch him in the face. Landing this interview might even get him an Emmy. He tilted his head, a set of troubling sincerity descending on his features. “I have to ask though, what’s it like knowing that your relationship has a shelf life. Not to be indelicate but there’s an elephant in the room here with the god-normie lifespan situation.” You sucked your lips between your teeth, biting back the words that Steve would most definitely have an issue with – even past the watershed. The gentle sound of Loki’s mischievous laughter cut through the red haze swirling behind your eyes. You could tell he was shaking his head in the way that only he did when he knew he had the upper hand. You weren't sure which was worse. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, it is rather a hard concept to get your naïve mind around – but there is a simple solution.” he said. You suddenly felt Loki’s fingers slide around your waist, the firm pressure of the tips digging into your side centring you while you took a breath. “Oh?” the host goaded. “Care to share this simple solution?” There was silence from the audience as they hung on Loki’s imminent explanation. You looked away from the fool holding the cards to your infuriating lover, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he gazed into your eyes. As though you were the only people in existence. “She could marry me.” The crowd screamed. You blinked several times as the room turned to a ball of white noise. Loki's longing stare broke, snapping towards the audience with a dazzling smile. He patted down the enthusiasm with one ceremonial hand.

“In the event of such a union on Asgard and by tradition, my beloved Agent here would become a demi-goddess in her own right, with the life-span to match.” he grinned towards the host, while you continued to stare at him open-mouthed. “I take it from the look on her face that this is new information for her?” the host laughed. Loki hummed mysteriously, reclining back against the seat. “Yes, well – whenever I try to convince her of such a thing– we never quite make it as far as the details. If you catch my drift.”

“You’ve asked before? And she’s turned you down?” The interviewer gasped at the implication of the world’s most eligible figure being knocked back. Your heart thundered. “Now hold on-” you spluttered, switching between the men trying to outdo each other in being the most insufferable. “First off...he’s the god of mischief and it’s very difficult to take anything he says seriously and second-” “-My darling here would doubtless become the goddess of overthinking and inciting exasperation.” Loki chuckled, patting your leg. You grimaced, a wordless warning passing from your eyes to his. Loki cleared his throat, sensing danger. “But that is a conversation for another time.”

The next five minutes passed in an inane blur of scripted pleasantries. By the time you reached the green room, your fury had reached boiling point. “What the fuck was that, Loki?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice down. The crowd was still clapping while they tried to clear the set for the next guests. Even Rogers couldn’t argue with the buzz this would generate. Loki meandered over to the drinks trolley, inspecting a bottle of scotch. “You know very well what I want, my love. It seemed like the perfect time to let me finish the sentence without one of your well-timed sexual ambushes.” he purred, raising an eyebrow. Without another word, you strode over; pulling him into a hungry kiss. It was a messy clash of teeth and tongue, simmering anger and desire over-spilling in breathy moans as you pushed him back against the rattling drinks trolley. Loki grunted, hoisting your legs possessively around his hips one after another. He manoeuvring you easily against the opposing wall, colliding against the forest green plaster with a soft thump. The root of his solid cock pressed furiously against your stomach, stretching achingly against the trousers. “Marry me.” he growled, dark embers of his voice seeping into the crevices of your soul like smoke. His chin was tilted down, only a sliver of iris visible at the edge of his pupils beneath a fan of dark lashes. Loki’s jawline was set, bladed cheekbones taut as the muscle in his cheek twitched. The tell of all-consuming desire that he held only for you. “Why? So you can irritate me for all eternity?” you panted, feeling Loki’s fingers pull at the band of your flimsy underwear. He scoffed before you heard a rip. “Hardly eternity darling. Only several millennia or so.” You pulled his tie towards you in a fist, the aching pressure of his kiss filling you with everything you ever needed. Would any amount of time be enough? You weren't sure. His fingertips ran over your temples, carding through your hair with fervent urgency as you melted into him. The two of you broke apart with a gasp. Loki’s forehead pressed to yours, the dark curls hanging by your cheeks buffeted by shallow breaths. One of his palms spread against the wall behind you, fingers curling down the plaster. “Marry me.” he repeated solemnly. The words trembled with a rare sincerity.

“I hate you, Loki Laufeyson.” you murmured, grazing the loaded words lovingly against his chin. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, a hiss of desire from his throat making you buck against his hips. “I love you too...Agent.” he purred darkly, sealing your unspoken answer with a kiss.

A/N: And that's it! It it! Thank you SO MUCH for chumming me on this lil journey, you're amazing 💖 Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

#loki x reader #hostile f*cks collection #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki au #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki marvel

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willyoubemycherryy · 25 days

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𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲@luvlydeja 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐢𝐭🤭...

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 2020 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒 “𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑒“ 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑚 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑏𝑣𝑖, 𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 ♡︎ (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )

❧𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬➬ this is absolutely nasty like I’m shocked at myself lmao, oof um let’s see, detailed kissing, hair pulling, flirting, google translate Italian, shorty gets positively pounded, flirting, teasing, unprotected s3x, manhandling, this is what happens in the hands of the h0rny and untrained😭🫵, lots of orgasms and consensual fun throughout ^^ 18+ MINORS GET OFF OF MY LAWN

“𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍...“

࣪𖤐๋࣭ ໒꒱✧. • 𐙚˙⋆.˚. .

Since he’d be staying in Italy for a while, or at least until he got all the interview material he needed, his first act of business would be to learn the language.

True, he could get a translator but it would be more authentic for him to learn since he’d be the one speaking and asking the questions.

Naturally, Gregory decided that a native speaker would be able teach him best.

Enter you.

He had walked into the convenience store you part timed at and instantly forgot what he was there for when he saw you. The prettiest thing in a sundress he’s ever seen, soft skin glowing with a slight sheen from the heat, your alluring features making his heart race faster the longer he looked at you.

You were talking to a customer in Italian, smiling and nodding in agreement before sharing a laugh with them. Gregory swore he’s never heard the sound warm spun silk but now he can say he officially has.

The words from your beautiful mouth flowed so effortlessly that he knew you would be perfect for him.

The old man who you were talking to was a regular, stopping by every Wednesday to entertain you with stories about his “sweetie baby wife” and how the world won’t stop at losing just their minds, they’re lucky he’s not in charge before buying some cigars and leaving with a lazy wave and wink.

Giggling, you wave back, shouting out after him.

“Vacci piano, ragazzo duro~!”

Smiling to yourself, you look from the door to the newspaper shelf only to lock eyes with a tall foreigner.

The first thing you notice besides his height was that he was insanely good looking. Rugged wasn’t quite the right way to describe his features because while they were sharp, he was just too pretty for that. Biting your lip, you noticed he was broad too; barrel wide chest and thick arms, you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone as classically handsome as him.

You’re so busy ogling him that when he’s suddenly standing in front of you, you startle but regain your wit quickly. Deciding to talk first, but in English.

“What’ll it be boss man?” Flicking your eyebrow up with a playful smile as you lean forward behind the register.

Gregory’s blood rushes south at the way your accented voice addresses him with a flirty look in your big almond eyes. Inhaling sharply he can’t help but smirk back at you.

“I’m looking for a translator since I don’t know much of the language here”, he says.

Goddamn his voice was deep.

Nodding your head to play off how flustered he had you, you get an idea.

Hot guy who needed help learning a language that you just so happen to speak AND moan?

You’re in.

While you’re thinking, Gregory looks you over with all kinds of filth running through his head.

You’d look so good whining naked on top of him.

He could live between your thighs.

What would you sound like when he’s stretching you out and fucking you dumb?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the clearing of your throat.

“Well most translators overcharge but since I’m so sweet and if you want, I wouldn’t mind helping you out…?” Realizing you don’t know his name, he rushes to give it to you.

“Gregory.”

“Right. Maybe I could help you out, Gregory…what do you think?” Letting your tone go from intrigued to lilting as you tilt your head to the side, looking at him through your lashes.

You were an absolute dream to him.

Stepping closer to you, he leans down to your face; propped up on his elbows near your own on the register and looks down at you with lidded blue eyes before smiling roguishly.

“I would absolutely love that.”

And just like that the learning process began.

You had taught him things like conversation and structure, how and what to call everyone, transitions and connectors, extensive words, places, and even the slang. Learning from you was hard but the difficulty had less to do with the language and more about how badly he needed to make you cum.

There was always this underlying tension between you two since the moment you met; subtle at first but the steady pent up attraction had it leaking into a more than intense desire.

Constant touches, flirtatious looks, innuendos so obvious that they bordered on invitations then came the teasing.

Whispering in his hear the correct way to say something when he didn’t quite get it right, biting your plump lips when you’d smile at him, but the worst, was the way you’d say his name. Rolling the ‘r’ so sexily that more often than not, it had blood rushing straight to his cock.

Moments like now.

“See? Sei un talento naturale, Gregory. Very good”, you say. Praising him sweetly. You were flirting, have been for a while now and you made sure he knew.

But with the way he reacts to you? The undivided attention, the way he’d strip you with his eyes alone, licking his lips and nodding when he focused hard on what you would say, the lingering hugs and wandering hands, not to mention how close his face sometimes got to yours…

It was only a matter of time.

“No~. Questo è tutto tu, bebé.” The low timbre of his voice makes you break out in goosebumps as heat licks up your spine.

“Yeah? It’s all me?”

“Mhmm.”

“How do I know though?”

“Come vuoi che ti insegni?” (How do you want me to teach you?)

Oof. That’ll make your pussy throb-

“THAT, dipende dal tuo stile..” With that it’s now or never as the air becomes thick with tension.

“That’s fine. Mines is ‘hands on’.

And in one smooth motion, Gregory yanks you into his lap, slotting his mouth over yours in a deep kiss.

He fits his hands around your hips as he completely devours you, one hand moving to slide into your hair, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss, the suction of his lips and yours soon give to him nipping your bottom lip before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

It’s so hot it makes you ache as heat soaks into your body and you moan desperately into his mouth. Gregory grips your hair tighter as he pulls it back to look at how pretty you look wanting and seals his mouth over yours again, swallowing your moans in the process.

Your cunt throbs as you hear him groan when he begins to sloppily lick into your mouth, his big tongue pressing against yours, rubbing his cool taste all over your pallet while you twitch and whimper in his strong grasp.

Sloppy wet kissing sounds along with your whimpers fill the room. The sounds would have made you embarrassed but you want him too bad and the way your tongues lazily swirled around each other’s, making more heat pool in your belly then drip down soaking your panties, made you forget about it.

Gregory groans into your mouth again before kissing you even hungrier to the point where you feel him in your throat as your eyes water in pleasure. You were starting need air but you don’t want it, not more than you want him.

He eventually pulls away and you gasp once your airway is free. The sudden influx of oxygen makes you dizzy as your clit throbs and you whine at him, begging with your teary glazed eyes for more.

Your whole body felt hot. The sensations were almost too good as you grind down on his fat length, moaning at the friction against your swollen clit while you unbuttoned Gregory’s shirt; becoming more desperate when you saw his happy-trail.

He pulls you back to his lips in another obscene kiss while you take his cock out, too desperate to take his pants off completely.

You freeze when you feel how big he is, eyes glazing over as you look down with a weak “oh.”

Gregory swears under his breath at your reaction, making a mental note to make you scream before kissing your ear.

“Sì? Babygirl likes seeing such a fat cock hmm?” He coos, making you gasp at his vulgarity.

“O-okay, if you don’t fuck me right now-“, was all you managed to get out before he lifted you to switch positions, you on your back before thrusting into your sopping cunt.

Your mouth drops open in a sharp moan at the stretch, the pressure almost killing you as you gasp and jerk underneath him. Determined not to cum so fast and make it last, but Gregory isn’t doing much better.

You looked so delicious under him, your back arched in pleasure as you cried out for him as he battered your sweet spots, warm and snug pussy drooling around his cock.

“Hnn - nnnnngghhhh!” The vulgar, borderline animalistic sound eventually forces its way through your gritted teeth when he finishes sliding home some moments later, your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head while your stuffed cunt sensitively flutters around the intrusion. He feels massive inside you. Not particularly long, but sufficiently wide enough to make it seem like he had you stretched right to the breaking point. It was simply too much, and your head lolls back in doped out bliss.

Fervently, your arms circle around his neck as he hunches over you so he can brace his hands on either side of your head, groaning as he moves his hips back before slamming them back in, setting a punishing pace as he fucks you.

You’re already toeing the line of a soul shattering orgasm just from having his cock bullied into you a second time, you toss your head back to peer up at him as if in a daze.

The whorish sounds coming from your throat drive Gregory crazy as he feels himself slip with how mind-tinglingly good you feel.

In a matter of moments he seems to be knocking that tender spot inside of you with near expert precision and you can’t quite catch your breath between helplessly bleating out in wordless ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight on me mami…wet little pussy..! Gonna cum all in you, stuff you full”.

You seize so suddenly it catches you off guard, so rattled at hearing that come out of his mouth that you clamp down on him, hard. You black out while your cunt is sent into a heated pulsing frenzy, wildly squeezing down on his cock so violently that it brings tears to your eyes. Tossing your head back again, you scream for him as you shake weakly through your mind numbing orgasm that you almost miss the moment your cunt erupts, spraying his front in arousal.

You screw your eyes shut with a keening shriek when a second spurt shoots out of you to further soak him but even then he doesn’t let up on the steady push and pull of his heavy girth along your palpitating cunt. Groaning into your mouth as he cums into your soaking heat, hissing through the waves of overstimulation. With no other option, you lie there and take it, your head a mess of static white noise that doesn’t clear up even when you finally start to come down from the high some moments later.

Boneless underneath him, you’re distantly aware of your shared release running down the sides of his cock in warm rivulets where he’s still wedged inside of you but you’re too drunk on satisfaction to care, kissing back weakly as he slips out.

No matter how hard you fight it, sleep overtakes you but one thing is for sure….

You can’t wait to teach him more♡︎. . .

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner smut #divine 2020 #divine movie #Gregory x reader #callum turner fanfiction #masters of the air #mota #smut #fluff #x reader #d!ck is a mission and I’m on it🫡#permission to cook?#permission was granted🫡

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its-ya-boi-kaz · 9 months

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"Is my tie straight?"

[Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa | 1633 words | cross posted on ao3]

Meeting your girl's parents can be a scary ordeal, especially when you're the Bastard of the Barrel.

A follow up of chapter 44 of Crooked Kingdom

"That's the laugh," Kaz murmured. But Inej was already moving, her feet barely touching the ground as she crossed the expanse of the quay to where her parents were, running towards her at the same speed as she was.

Kaz didn't want to interrupt them, so he simply walked, leaning lightly on his cane and eyes trained on Inej. She was face to face with them now. For a moment, she seemed frozen, not sure of what to do. Her mother had tears streaming down her face. She couldn't wait for another moment, pulling Inej into a hopelessly tight embrace. Kaz was halfway up to them by the time they broke apart.

She didn't say anything. Her lips parted and she croaked something like, "Papa." Her father put a hand on her shoulder. He was looking down at Inej with a smile that made Kaz feel like an intruder, he didn't deserve to witness something so innocent.

Only then did Inej turn back. Kaz suddenly felt like a spectacle. Should he have worn something else? Surely it was his clothing choices that made their eyes lock on him so intently. Kaz saw that Inej's mother's eyes were the same as Inej. Mr Ghafa had a sense of weight in his gaze that could only be bought with age. But his wife, well, the woman was possibly what the girls on West Stave had in mind when they whined about wanting to look young forever. She seemed ageless. Her eyes were the same pools of darkness as the girl who stood before him. Like she too had taken every dark thing around her and held them in her gaze until she was surrounded by an aura of light, as Inej had been doing for years.

"Ma, Papa, this is Kaz." Her father extended his hand with the grace of a saviour, but Kaz did not need salvation, not if it came with a handshake. He was acutely aware of the sea breeze on his naked palms. The same sea had once wrinkled his fingers as they clung to Jordie, more afraid of drowning than whatever was in front of his eyes.

"He helped me survive this city." Inej's voice was an anchor, keeping him grounded to reality.

Her eyes were on him. He had held her own hand only moments before. Could he do the same for the man in front of him? If it gave her the same comfort? Could he cross the Barge once again, if he knew she would be standing on the shore?

I would come for you. His bare hand left the metal crow's head of his cane and made contact with the skin of someone else. The waters rose.

"Ma, could you make skillet bread for me tonight?" Inej spoke, but her eyes were on him. He shook her father's hand firmly; it was a chore to keep his hand from shaking as he returned it to the head of the cane. When he looked up, her smile was a halo of light around her. He fought not to squint against the sheer luminescence of her joy.

"Of course I will, jaan, " her mother cooed, using the Suli word for 'lifeline'. Inej had mentioned it to him once, in one of her proverbs. "But first you must tell us, what happened ?"

He could feel the weight of the question, the burden of it hanging over Inej. He could only guess what Suli proverbs must be going on in her head to help her cope with the fear and keep her chin held high.

"We will tell you everything you wish to know, Mrs Ghafa," Kaz spoke in her stead. How many times had she covered for him? He could repay her a thing or two before she started her journey to the sea. "But first shall we go somewhere more comfortable? I must confess, staying standing for long isn't very good for my leg."

• • •

"Veera told me of the slaver ship that was seen leaving the dock. When we didn't find you, we feared the worst," Inej's father said.

They had come to Wylan's house and were seated on the dining table on which loaves of the skillet bread that Inej's mother had made cooled. Inej and Kaz on one side, her parents on the other.

"The worst happened, Papa. And then it happened some more."

Kaz listened as Inej explained her days at the Menagerie. Then her meeting with Kaz. Her time with the dregs. She looked at him a few times, to see if he would like to add to the conversation. He would, but he would not speak.

There came a time every once in a while when he had to look at all the numbers himself. Despite how accurate the reports of Anika and Pim were, he always found something that had slipped from their brain, that would have been unknown to him if he hadn't looked at the scores himself. You could trust somebody with your numbers, but there were some tallies you had to count on your own. This was her story to tell. He had no right to say anything, not when he knew there were wounds in her only she could recall.

She had steered clear of any mention of the Ice Court heist. But she could only talk so much about the past. "I have a ship. I managed to do something huge, with the help of the right people. I have the resources too. I'm going to hunt slavers. I won't let anyone suffer what I've endured. But before I do that, I need your forgiveness. Papa, Mama, I need to know where… I need to know what I mean to you, before I go out into the world alone and fulfil my purpose in this world."

There were tears in her mother's eyes that were very different from the way she'd cried at the quay. Her eyes were still, determined, yet searching for something to say. She reminded Kaz of the night on Black Veil when Inej had turned back － He was going to break my legs , Kaz, she had said, eyes searching for answers－ and he breathed out a sigh, knowing there was nothing furious in her mother's gaze. If they were angry at Inej, Kaz doubted any of the Ghafas would like what he planned to do in that scenario. Including Inej. Especially Inej.

"You are still our daughter, Inej. You needn't ask for our forgiveness. You did what you had to do." Her father's voice was steady despite the tears. Her mother silently wiped her own. She suddenly got up and crossed the table to Inej, and coddled her face in her hands. She leaned down to press her lips on her daughter's forehead.

"You did what the Saints asked of you, my child. If that is what you think your purpose is, then let me not be what stops you. You can…"

Their voices faded into the background as Kaz stepped into the backyard. He lowered himself onto the steps, feeling his leg throb with a twinge of pain. He did not want to intrude in what was supposed to be a memory none of them would forget. He wanted them to only remember each other as they too probably wanted to.

He sensed her presence behind him. He glanced back and opened his mouth to tell her how she should go back to her family and that Kaz could talk to her later, but the words died on his lips. It wasn't Inej behind him, but her father. He turned his gaze back to the canal. The old man sat beside him, posture erect even when sitting down.

"I'm aware that you are the reason Inej is safe today," he started. He must have left the mother and daughter to do some more weeping together.

"There's no safe in Ketterdam, Mr Ghafa. I didn't give her safety, it doesn't exist in this city. She fended for herself."

"I suspect you have a hand behind that too."

Kaz stayed silent, feeling the temperature of his face rise as if he was a child that had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. But Mr Ghafa wasn't blaming, he was simply acknowledging facts.

"I don't have much to say to you, just know that I thank you deeply for what you have done for her."

He didn't know what to say to that. It was awfully quiet in these parts of the city. He could hear the water of the large canal lapping up against the shore.

After a while, Inej's father stood up and dusted off his trousers. Only then did he sense Inej, the real Inej's presence behind him. So he'd known his daughter had come and left them alone. Kaz supposed he should be honoured, but he could only feel a pang of jealousy that he hadn't been able to sense Inej before her father.

She sat beside him now, slipping into a comfortable silence. Neither of them wanted to speak. Every few moments, she would wipe her eyes.

What had her parents said about him after he'd gone? What had she said about him? What would they say if they came here right now?

Quietly, she reached for his now gloved hand. Kaz took a deep breath. There was her hand on his. A slight weight on his shoulder where she had leaned her head against it. Sunlight glistened on the murky waters of the canal. His mind was reeling. A jumble of thoughts, but none of them profound enough to be worth being spoken.

"They like you. Both of them."

He could have never known such simple words would be what eased the thumping in his chest.

#Might write a follow up of inej's mom making the spiciest food they have ever seen and kaz discovering how low his spice tolerance is #booklr #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc #ck #six of crows duology #kaz brekker #kanej headcanon #kanej fluff #kanej #kanej fic #kanej fanfiction #inej ghafa

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red-as-rain · 2 years

Text

inej: *falls asleep on kaz*

jesper: kaz we need to-

kaz: *on the brink of tears* if you wake her up jesper I swear I will rip you limb from limb

#crooked kingdom #six of crows #soc #ck #shadow and bone #leigh bardugo #sab #kaz brekker #kaz #jesper #jesper fahey #inej #inej ghafa #kanej #kaz x inej #inej x kaz #aww #fluff

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iloveslllycatss · 1 year

Text

## — “𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊.”

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ! 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦)

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 ! 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥𝘴. 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘏𝘈𝘠𝘈𝘛𝘐 𝘕𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘌𝘕 @rinniezz

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥𝘴

miguel diaz !

★ — this mf already knew EVERYTHING about periods

★ — his mom and yaya taught him about it since he was young

★ — so when u got ur period? easy.

★ — if you have cramps (obvi everyone had cramps… right?) hes already right there for you, cuddling u

★ — if he can’t cuddle you (like if ur out in public) he’d always have ibuprofen or like tylenol for you

★ — makes sure your always hydrated

★ — this dude is like a personal ass heater, u don’t need a heating pad when he’s with u.

★ — he still gets u one tho

★ — wouldn’t make a big deal about it if you bleed on the sheets

★ — if you ever bled through your pants in public he’d let you tie his jacket or flannel or whatever around your waist to hide it

★ — he understands you have mood swings and just does his best to not provoke you or anything

★ — hes the type of boyfriend that as soon as he finds out you’re on your period he suddenly teleported to the mini mart and comes back with all your favorite snacks and pads/tampons

★ — hes just so perfect bro (i want him.)

★ — would definitely give u a hoodie or jacket of his to let you wear since he knows you love them

★ — if your at his house and need a pad/tampon he’s suddenly left to grab u one from the closet

★ — sorry not sorry but his mom probably only has pads so if ur a tampon girl then idk what to tell you

★ — he’d just buy u some dw

★ — def has asked his mom or yaya for recipes of your favorite mexican dishes so he could make them for you.

★ — he failed miserably… but atleast he tried 😞

★ — he knows your cycle so he’s already prepared for it every time

★ — hes just so perfect.

★ — i love miguel

★ — best boy

robby keene !

★ — i’m sorry but man didn’t know what to do when u got ur period

★ — he TRIED tho

★ — when u get cramps he probably wouldn’t cuddle you unless u ask..

★ — he would get u ibuprofen or tylenol tho

★ — hes prob one of those bfs that you’d have to explain what a period is to..

★ — BUT HES A QUICK LEARNER SO after the first 2 time you explained it he got it right away

★ — if you’d ever ask him to buy u pads or tampons he’d go, no shame

★ — hed bring back a bag of ur favorite snacks and candy and pads

★ — would spoon u to bed

★ — would do everything for you

★ — water? he got u one. hungry? doordashing food rn. cramps? cuddles.

★ — would understand your mood swings but sometimes it’d get on his nerves…

★ — like one time you snapped at him and instead of him trying to calm u down he snapped back..

★ — he said sorry first, and gave u 934829384838 kisses after

★ — would try to motivate u to be productive if your unmotivated

★ — hed prob say something like “if you get up we’ll go on a date this weekend.”

★ — the first time u bled on the sheets he was a little disgusted

★ — but after a while he realized it was normal and you can’t control it

★ — wasn’t disgusted after that, but he still didn’t clean it off, he let u do that 😭 (since u have to hand wash the sheets so blood comes off)

★ — gives u massages to untense ur muscles

★ — hes so cute bro

★ — 10/10 boyfriend

small hc i have for hawk !

★ — asks you what size pussy u have when he goes to buy u pads.

@/ilovesillycats

plz don’t copy my work 😞

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iliaclwrites · 2 years

Note

hello!! could you possibly write something where the reader is like a mom to Dustin (the way Steve is) and he catches reader and Eddie making out and he screams "stop kissing my mom!!" or something like that?? Thank youu🤎🤎🤎

You’d babysat Dustin for years, ever since he was old enough for his mother to leave him at home without freaking out. You weren’t exactly the best babysitter in the neighbourhood – too readily bowled over by his endearing smile and begging to really hold any line, and you became fast friends growing up.

He knew you had a boyfriend, sure. He’d come downstairs when you were babysitting him to hear you on the phone, kicking your feet up like a dumb little schoolgirl before you sprung up to shepherd him back to bed. He just didn’t know who your boyfriend was. You didn’t think it mattered.

So when you asked Dustin if he wouldn’t mind not ratting on you to his mom tonight when you brought your boyfriend over, you thought it would go without a hitch. He insisted being allowed to eat icecream and two pizzas of his choice, and you acquiesced. You’d do anything for this. You had been so wrapped up in your midterms that you’d had absolutely no time to see your boyfriend at all, and when you realised that you could almost definitely pay off Dustin to let you sneak him in, you leapt at the chance.

“So, what’s he like?” Dustin asked, scrawling in one of his many notebooks as you checked over his Latin homework. “Your boyfriend?”

You flushed. “He’s a sweetie,” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment as you pushed away Dustin’s Latin notes, circling in pencil the verbs he’d messed up. “Genuinely the loveliest guy I’ve ever met. He’s just a gentleman, you know?”

Dustin hummed. “How’d you guys meet?”

You smiled softly, looking down at your hands. “He always used to come into the record store where I worked,” you murmured, thinking over the memory. “He was really close with some of the guys older than me in the store, so when we did stock take with a few beers we’d throw a bit of a party, and he’d be there. Drinking beers and dancing.”

You looked up at Dustin’s ceiling, remembering how the metalhead had swept you into a dance to The Cure’s Lovecats, spinning you under his arm until your can of beer spilled between you and on the floor, and both of you were on your knees howling with laughter as you swiped at it with your sleeves. You kissed like that, pleasantly drunk on Red Stripe and British New Wave, on your hands and knees together. He had grabbed your hair and pulled you down with him, tumbling onto the pile of coats, giggling the whole way as you rubbed your sopping, beer-soaked clothes over each other’s faces.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,” he’d said, pulling your body into him. He was warm and damp, and you rested your chin on his sternum, blowing his now sticky hair out of his eyes. “Ever since I walked in and saw you trying to convince a kid not to buy the new Duran Duran album.”

You had snorted, and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Me too,” you admitted. “Ever since I saw you laughing at how I overcharged the kid.”

“The very same,” he said, and tapped your mouth, yelping as you bit at it playfully. “Why didn’t we do this sooner, princess?”

You had snorted. “We’re doing it now, Munson. Now get over here and kiss your girl.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ew,” Dustin said. “I didn’t need to know all of that, thanks,” he said, wrinkling his nose and pushing up off of the bed as the doorbell rang. “Oh. That’ll be him, I guess,” he said, gesturing to the door. “I’ll be up here.”

You grinned at him. “Thanks, Dusty,” you whispered, ruffling his hair. “You’re such a good sport, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, swiping at your hair. “Don’t let anyone know. It’d ruin my rep.”

You raced down the stairs, barrelling through the door and into Eddie’s open arms. “Princess!” Eddie cooed, spinning you around, narrowly avoiding hitting your ankles on the doorframe. “Oof. It’s been a while,” he said, depositing you down to kiss your forehead. “How’s my little lady doing?”

You grinned up at him. “Not bad,” you said, and gestured upstairs. “The kid’s just getting ready for bed.”

He grinned at you wolfishly, and crowded you toward the couch. “That means,” he said, tipping you backward over the arm, “I’ve got you all to myself, hmm?”

You landed with a humph on the pillows, and twisted your head to look away from him, where the TV was playing reruns of College Bowl. “I dunno,” you teased, shooting him a quick glance. “No one here but us chickens. Just me and Dusti–” He cut you off with a firm kiss, and you sighed happily into his mouth, fingers going into his hair. It had been ages since you’d done this, and Eddie started to edge you up the sofa, your hands flying up to grab the opposite arm, your neck straining as he started to kiss down it. You let out a squeak of pain, quickly covered by Eddie’s hand over your mouth as he focused on the skin of your throat.

“Wait,” he mumbled, pulling away from your neck for a moment. “Did you say Dust–”

A shoe landed on the back of Eddie’s head, and he shrieked, tumbling off of you and onto the coffee table. You sprung up, staring at the staircase. Dustin was there, one shoe in his hand and primed to throw at the presumed-attacker.

“Get away from my– Eddie?!”

#eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #lol all i do is write cute fluff where these two get their c*cks blocked huh

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dandelion-blues · 27 days

Text

Ninjago One-shot

An Adult? (not really)

Now also on Ao3

Lloyd Garmadon didn’t notice at first that he wasn’t really aging. He didn’t really think much about it at first. After all, he was already so much older when the Tomorrow's Tea aged him up. Except his voice hardly even deepened. Then, 8 years later, when Lloyd was chronologically 16 but supposed to be in his twenties physically, his voice finally deepened, as evident by the ninja’s teasing.

Zane predicted that perhaps Tomorrow's tea worked differently on him and that perhaps Lloyd’s age was now aligned. After all, Zane is a nindroid and isn’t supposed to age like humans, and yet he did.

Except Lloyd discovered that he wasn’t even fully human. He was a part oni-dragon hybrid. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Lloyd had bigger things to deal with than his weird aging. After all, he had a father villain to defeat.

5 more years passed. The Overlord, or should Lloyd say the Crystal King, is finally defeated. Garmadon isn’t quite as evil anymore and is actually staying around.

And now that they believe the Overlord is finally never returning, all the venom from the Great Devour that the Overlord orchestrated for Garmadon to have just left his system.

Now Garmadon is just an oni-brand of evil and has purple eyes. They remind Lloyd a lot of the human version of his father, his dad, but apparently that was a lie too because it’s just shapeshifting since the oni-version is his dad’s natural form. But everything is fine. He got his dad back. Really, he’s just a little rough around the edges, and his memories still aren’t fully back, but it’s a process. Everything is fine.

Anyways. What else? Oh, and all the Ninjas are alive and together.

It’s been a long journey. Cole just had his 30th birthday, and after all the pestering from his fans about dating, he decided to get married to a triple-layer chocolate cake so they would finally back off. Because. He’s. Not. Interested. Honestly, Lloyd can relate. He thought he liked Brad, and then Harumi and Akita when he was younger, but it was actually just wanting to be friends with them (though Harumi long since lost her chance even if she joined their side in the end), and it’s really making him uncomfortable with how many people are asking about his dating life.

Moving on…

Zane and Pixal are running a school open to all types of people and beings to learn about all manner of things.

Kai and Skylar finally got engaged! Lloyd teased his big brother endlessly for that. It took them long enough!

Nya and Jay got married and are happily exploring ninjago for their honeymoon!

Of course all the ninja stay in touch and make sure to meet up at the monastery at least monthly if not more in case another realm ending disaster pops up, but everyone is enjoying the peace while it lasts, but still staying in shape and being vigilant. Not wanting to be caught off guard again.

And well, Lloyd’s the same staying at the monastery for now and trying to avoid the limelight and all his crazy fans. Lloyd’s also trying really hard to reconnect with Garmadon, but part of himself still flinches whenever he gets too close. Remembering cold red eyes, saying he has no son, and slamming him into a wall. His body breaking and blood pooling around him. And everything is cold and dark. And Lloyd feels so alone and scared. He was dying.

Uncle Wu is also staying with Lloyd and Garmadon and really trying to be a good brother, but centuries, if not millennia, of strained relations, and polar personalities and ideals, make it hard for them to bond over, well, anything.

Though they did finally make a breakthrough recently. Lloyd just wishes he wasn’t at the center of it.

Flashback:

“Son,” Garmadon's deep gravelly voice says behind Lloyd, and Lloyd jumps; swearing, he almost hits his head on the ceiling by how far he jumped.

“Where is your mother?” Garmadon’s purple eyes have an unknown glint in them. The oni looks at Lloyd like his dad used to look at him when starting a serious conversation, and Lloyd swallows.

“Why do you want to know?” Lloyd says, his voice definitely not cracking. It’s been years. Why is his voice still cracking?!

“Well, I wanted her to sign these divorce papers so I could happily pursue a relationship with Vinny.” Garmadon says and pulls out divorce papers like it’s just a random Tuesday.

“What?!” Lloyd shrieks. And he expects Garmadon to say he’s joking. Divorce?! And who’s Vinny?!

Instead, Garmadon says in a worried tone, his voice sounding so close to the dad that Lloyd misses, “Now son. I’m sure it’s not easy to accept that your parents are getting divorced, especially since you are so young, but your mother and I are mature adults and need to get this done, so we can move on in our lives.”

Lloyd sputters, “I’m in my twenties! I’m not a kid.” It’s been 13 years since Lloyd’s been magically aged up to around 14. And even then, he was 8 before he magically aged up, so he would be in his twenties either way! Sure, he has an extreme baby face, but he is an adult! Even if he doesn't feel like it. And why does Garmadon suddenly care now? He can't try and parent him years too late and expect everything will be fine!

Thus, Lloyd yells at Garmadon before he can answer “Also, I have no idea where Misako is, and honestly I don’t give a damn! I hardly even know her! She left me when I was a baby! And she only came back into my life when I had to fight the Overlord for the first time. Then she just disappeared for years on end till she suddenly pops up with some cryptic message for a day and leaves again! So honestly good on you for getting a divorce! But don’t pretend that I care!” And Lloyd stomps out and slams the door to his room and screams into his pillow.

Eventually, Lloyd fell asleep, but it wasn’t long before a knock interrupted his rest, and he had to face reality again.

“What?” Lloyd answers, his voice muffled by his pillow.

“Lloyd,” Uncle Wu says softly, “Can Garmadon and I come in?”

‘Ugh, please no,’ Lloyd wants to say more than anything, but he relents, and sits up in his bed and tries to comb through his messy blond hair.

Lloyd finally sighs, “Come in.”

Uncle Wu and Garmadon enter Lloyds room, and they stand opposite him. Lloyd looks at them and waits for them to start speaking, but they just glance worriedly at Lloyd.

Lloyd rolls his eyes, “What do you guys want to talk about?”

Garmadon clears his throat, “Well after you… talked about Misako,” he says her name with venom, and Lloyd has to hide his flinch. Somehow, though, Garmadon seems to notice and breathes in deeply before continuing, “I went to talk to my brother, and neither of us knew about what you told me earlier. We just want to know where exactly you were raised and who raised you since Misako didn’t.”

Lloyd scowls, “Stop talking to me like I’m a child. I’m already in my twenties. I’m an adult for crying out loud! Also, why do you two suddenly care so much? It’s not like it’s hindering my ability to be the green ninja.”

Garmadon raises an eyebrow in disbelief and looks at his brother in worry.

“Lloyd,” Uncle Wu reaches over to Lloyd, but Lloyd pulls away, and Wu's golden eyes look so sad, “You are still a child, and you will be one for quite some time. And we care about you more than just being the green ninja. You are family, and we are worried about you.”

Lloyd shakes his head in disbelief. Just because Wu’s like a thousand years old doesn't mean that Lloyd deserves to be treated as a kid just because he’s so much younger.

“Besides you haven’t even lost your baby fangs or even molted your first dragon skin. You're still just a pup,” Garmadon gruffly replies.

“Hatchling.” Uncle Wu corrects.

Garmadon's purple eyes narrow at his brother, “Pup.”

Wu’s golden eyes narrow back, “Hatchling.”

“Pup.”

“Hatching.”

“Pup!”

“Hatching!”

“PUP!”

“HATCHLING!”

“ENOUGH!” Lloyd shouts over the two brothers, and they shut up in shock. “Is this seriously about my oni-dragon heritage?! What does that even matter? I’m still half human and obviously take more after my human half, and therefore, I age like a human. SO. I. AM. NOT. A. CHILD!”

“Oh son,” Garmadon’s voice breaks, and it truly sounds exactly like his dad’s, and it’s like the last piece finally clicks in Garmadon’s mind to fully remember. “I am so sorry I haven’t been able to teach you about your heritage and that I missed that your mother wasn’t in the picture since I was hardly there. I’ve truly failed you son.”

Garmadon goes closer to Lloyd and goes to embrace him in a hug, and Lloyd lets him, too shocked because Garmadon’s apologizing?! Is his dad finally back? Does he remember everything?

And then Garmadon’s sitting next to Lloyd on his bed and hugging him for dear life, and he starts sobbing, “I’m so so sorry, my son. I’ve hurt you, and I don’t know how I can ever make up for that.”

And Lloyd's shock fades away, and he embraces his dad back just as fiercely, “Dad. I-I’ve m-missed y-you. I’d t-thought you’d n-never truly be b-back!” And he sobs into his dad’s chest. Except Lloyd doesn’t just sob, but whines. Though Lloyd hardly notices as he's too busy focusing on the overwhelming emotions he’s feeling right now.

Garmadon, though, notices and instantly tightens his embrace on his son, and deep purrs start emitting from him to help his pup calm down. He puts his son’s head in the crook of his neck, and Garmadon instinctually broadens his shoulders as if to seem bigger and threatening to outsiders to protect his pup.

Wu smiles sadly at the scene, tears escaping his eyes, as he stares at his brother and nephew.

Eventually, their crying dies down, and Lloyd tries to pull away, but his dad holds onto him. Lloyd sighs but relents since he feels so warm and comfortable. Still, Lloyd looks down embarrassed. He’s not a child anymore. He can't be with all he's faced.

Garmadon lifts Lloyd’s chin up, and Lloyd glances at his dad’s comforting purple eyes, and Garmadon gently wipes some tears out of Lloyd’s face with his thumbs, the dark scales of his dad’s fingers surprisingly soft, and Garmadon hugs Lloyd gently.

Lloyd sinks into his dad’s embrace, feeling a deep rumble from his dad’s chest. It makes Lloyd’s eyes start to close as he feels warm and safe. But then Lloyd furrows his brows confused. What is that? It’s like…

Lloyd pushes away, shocked, “Dad are you purring?!”

“Of course, Lloyd, and you are too, you know. It’s just part of our oni heritage.” Garmadon says softly, as if speaking to a child.

And Lloyd, to his growing horror, does indeed feel himself purring, a soft purr emitting from within his chest following his dad’s. And Lloyd whines in distress. Did he really just whine. What is this happening to him right now?!

Garmadon pulls Lloyd closer, trying to calm his pup’s distress. But now that Lloyd is aware of the sounds, his distress is growing further, and he is starting to panic and wants his dad to let him go, but at the same time, he doesn’t. Lloyd is just so scared and confused.

Wu coughs loudly, getting his family’s attention. “Garmadon you need to let Lloyd go, he’s not used to his oni heritage right now, and it’s just further distressing him right now.”

Garmadon growls at his brother, his mind fogged up too much to think of anything else except protecting his pup.

Except Wu growls back just as hard and hisses in his dragonic tongue, “Let Lloyd go.”

Garmadon, shocked, loosens his grip just enough for Lloyd to get out of his grip and run to Uncle Wu.

Garmadon growls deeply as Wu holds Lloyd and growls in oni, “Let go of my son.”

“No, brother.” Wu states calmly in Ninjagon but prepares to defend himself.

Just before Garmadon can attack, Lloyd whispers, his voice breaking, “Don’t fight, please.”

Garmadon instantly snaps out of it and stops growling as his mind clears up. He whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”

Garmadon falls back on Lloyd's bed, looking down. He’s messed up again.

‘Why can’t I be a good dad for my son, just once?!’ Garmadon thinks. Agony felt in his heart once again for his inability to not mess up with Lloyd.

Lloyd breathes in and out and calms himself down in his uncle’s hold, and then he looks over to his dad and sees him with the saddest look on his face.

Lloyd gingerly gets out of his uncle’s hold and nods when Uncle Wu asks if he’s okay.

“Dad. I’m sorry I panicked. I just…” Lloyd gulps, “I thought I was human. Or well, mostly human. I didn’t want to accept that I wasn’t aging like one. And I think deep down I knew. FSM, I still look basically the same age as I did after I used the Tomorrow's Tea!”

“I just thought that I could finally be normal.” Lloyd’s voice breaks.

Garmadon looks at his son, so heartbroken. He doesn’t know how to help his son. He’s not normal, and he’ll never be.

And then Lloyd clears his throat, his bright green eyes shining, “But normal's overrated anyways, and I don’t have it in me to keep rejecting myself and you to believe that I’ll ever be normal. I finally have my dad back again, and I’ll hate myself if I don’t take this chance to learn more about you and about our heritage while I still have the chance.”

Lloyd laughs bitterly, “Because destiny will eventually decide to fuck with me again and I won’t have time, so I can’t just continue to ignore this. Because one day it might be too late to learn this from my d-dad.” Lloyd's voice breaks at the end.

“Oh, Lloyd, I’ll gladly tell you whatever you want to know,” Garmadon agrees and smiles sadly, praying to his father just this once that his son can find peace.

Lloyd smiles, tears in his eyes, and looks back to his uncle, “A-and I think Uncle Wu needs to be here to help explain some things too.”

Wu looks at his nephew in shock, he answers, “If that’s what you want nephew.”

“It is.” Lloyd nods his head.

“Alright, what do you want to know first?” Garmadon asks and pats the bed for both his son and brother to sit next to him. Lloyd gladly goes over, and his dad embraces him in a side hug, while Wu sits next to Lloyd and looks to Garmadon, wondering how he’s going to explain their heritage.

“Well as long as you make sure you include the dragons, brother. You always seem to forget them when discussing our heritage.” Wu says with a mischievous voice.

Garmadon rolls his eyes, “As long as you don’t forget the oni.”

Lloyd laughs brightly, the weight of the world seeming to lift from his shoulders, and his family joins him and starts laughing as well, and Misako is all but forgotten, for now, to the small family of the First Spinjitzu Master’s descendants.

Next Ninjago One-shot

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 10 months

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Be My Valentine

Vernon Mini-Series | Completed | Fandom: Seventeen

pairing: Vernon x reader

genre: fluff, angst, slight crack, friends to lovers, non-idol!au, college au

summary: College was hard enough and the thought of spending Valentine's Day alone and sad was not your style. And the best solution was to go on a platonic date with your best friend Vernon. It goes so well that it becomes a tradition until it gets messy... nothing ever goes wrong by pretend-dating your best friend right?

status: complete

a/n: first time trying something like this cuz I saw too many edits on Vernon's Fire verse! Please tell me your feedback!

pictures from Pinterest!

Chapters

ch 1 - No

ch 2 - It's a Success!

ch 3 - Turbulent Traditions

ch 4 - Uh Oh

ch 5 - My Forever Valentine...

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giggly-squiggily · 1 year

Note

I understand if you already have full Demon Slayer, but just in case here’s my headcanon. So Sanemi and Genya right, sometimes Sanemi is willing to give his lil bro some playful affection and gently tickles him. ( I just some Shinazugawa bros fluff! There’s been so much angst)

Headcanons To Dabbles: Officially CLOSED!

Oh my god, I needed this fierce after that most recent episode! I've gotcha covered, anon! :D

CW: Swearing

“You son of a bitch! Come here!”

Genya yelped when the back of his Yukata was grabbed, Sanemi’s grip ironlike as he was yanked down. “N-Nemi!”

“Don’t call me that! God, you’re gonna make me look like such a wimp before the others, you shit.” Despite the harsh words, Sanemi’s tone and grip were surprisingly relaxed. He adjusted his arm so it was swung around Genya’s neck, fingers finding the crook in seconds. “You’re too tall these days! God- what happened to your scrawny ass back when we were kids?”

“Ah! Aheahhahahahahaha! Nehehehemi, plehahahahhahse!” Genya crumbled instantly, knees hitting the ground as he tried scrunching up and away from his brother’s hand. “Doohohohohn’t, it tihiihiiihickles!”

“Heh, that’s the point?” Sanemi snorted, bringing both hands to Genya’s neck for maximum tickle output. “Man, some things haven’t changed at all. Here you are, still ticklish as you were when you were a baby! You still look like a baby to, now that I think about it.”

“Ohhohohohohooho shuhuhuhuhuhuhuuht uuhuhuhuuhp! Gheahhahahhaha, I’m nohohohohohot a bahahahahhaby anymohohohohore!” Genya argued through his mirth, reaching for Sanemi’s knee. The Wind Hashira was too quick however, easily evading Genya’s hand as he sunk his own into his brother’s armpit. “GAHHHAHAHHA NOHOHOHOOHOHOOO!”

“Yeeeeees~” Sanemi mock whined back at him, cackling as Genya flopped against the ground, cheeks red and eyes shut in laughter. He missed this- the tickle fights they’d get into with all their siblings.

The thought of them and his mom made his heart hurt. He found himself momentarily blinking back tears.

“Nehehehehehehemi?” Genya sounded concerned. Sanemi shook his head, going back for Genya’s neck. “NEHEHHEHEMI GEHHAHAHHAHAHA!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sanemi grunted, putting on a grin when Genya squealed, rolling away. “How the hell are you gonna survive the corps if you’re this ticklish? Any demon could grab you and start tickling!”

“Same way you survived so far as a Hashira, Shinazugawa-san.” Mitsuri’s voice from behind made Sanemi swear like a sailor.

Her fingers- soon to be followed by Genya’s- on his belly and ribs had him cackling like his brother soon after.

#headcanons to dabbles #tickle #tickle dabble #genya shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa #mitsuri kanroji #fluff #light angst #f*ck canon complicity we're making them have a good relationship :P #shinazugawa brothers #tw: swearing

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iloveprettyboysblog · 2 years

Text

That White Henley, Tho🔥🥵

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mysterybutknown · 10 months

Text

Flower Husbands but Scott has just given up, roughly after the events Limited Life. He gives up on feel emotionally stable. He gives up on being happy. He gives up on the throught of being loved.

Yet he still feels complete, like he's done all he can to help his "friends" and that's all that matter. So he attempt to go (via self-termantion) as he feels his supporting friends role of being used, weaponised, loved, hated etc... Is over.

What Scott doesn't account for is people starting to notice, Jimmy being the first.

Will him and the other save Scott? Will Scott ever recover? Or will he succeed in his original goal while being "undetected" /not cared for?

Find out next we-

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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Final Bids [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (19) Stakes are high and mischief is rife at Stark's charity auction. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Auction trope. Smuttish. Language. Mild Angst -> Fluff. (w/c 4.7k)

Loki hadn’t shown up fighting his way through customs at the airport. There was no dramatic kiss on the runway, and no hint of his theatrical presence at the other side when you landed at JFK. He’s never text you before, he won’t start now; you thought, staring at the blank phone screen resting on the bar of the Tower’s event suite. You stared at it, hoping for a miraculous flash. This is mad.

“Hey.” Wanda said, sliding into the seat beside yours. “Hey.” you replied flatly. She was dressed to the nines tonight, cleavage bursting from a sinfully red strapless dress. “You better be careful in that thing, Thor will get the wrong idea.” you muttered, taking another sip of your drink. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” Wanda winked. “Have you seen him?” she said, flipping her hair over one shoulder as she scanned the room.

“No...I need to talk to him, actually.” you said, joining her in scouting the bustling crowd. Wanda hummed, distracted. Needing to talk to Thor, you chided yourself; say you’re desperate without saying you’re desperate. “I still think you should have given Stark a pair of used panties for this thing.” the redhead mumbled coyly as she turned back to you, satisfied her audience of choice was not in the direct vicinity. “I don’t think anyone wants my dirty underwear, girl.” you laughed, happy for the distraction. “Please.” she scoffed. “Whatever pheromones you’re pumping out had two gods fighting over you. Lit-e-ral-ly.” she said, emphasising with four slaps of her palm on the bar. “People would pay good money to wear that shit like perfume. Mark my words.” You shrugged, seeing Wanda’s eyes narrow. “I think my pheromones are officially out of business, honestly” you sighed, “Rome didn’t exactly go to plan. I think we’re done.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “You always say that. And then the next time I see you, the hair’s all fucked out and you have a big dopey smile on your face and something new he’s said or done that’s driving you crazy. It’s your thing. Your couple thing.” “We’re not a couple.” you snapped.

“If you say so.” Wanda murmured coyly, manoeuvring the tiny straw hanging off her cocktail into her mouth.

There was a pause as you both ran your eyes over the elegant guests returning from intermission. So far, the charity auction had been a roaring success. Your combat belt went for a respectable forty-eight large, while a pair of Banner’s ripped shorts and Bucky’s unwashed sweatband had both garnered over fifty thousand. You knew the world had gone officially mad when Rogers’ notebook of patriotic mindfulness ramblings reached double that. Tony was working his magic on a group of shareholders near the head of the hall, raucous laughter splitting the gin-soaked air. Steve stood at the podium, frowning. As expected, he was taking the duty of auctioneer very seriously.

“What did you hand over to Tony’s fund, then?” you said, crossing your legs on the barstool. “A bra.” Wanda shrugged, as you spluttered on a mouthful of diet coke. “What?!” she postured innocently, “it’s for charity.” The two of you burst into peals of laughter, your gaze drawn back to Captain Rogers squinting at his cards on the stage. “Oh, Steve’s gonna love that.” you gasped, wiping a tear from your eye. Wanda shrugged again. “They said a personal item that people would want – so I complied.” Clint peeled away from the edge of the crowd, leaning on the bar beside you. “Ladies.” he said solemnly, letting his stare wander from a distance over the pulsing mass of people. “Have either of you seen Laufeyson?” Wanda shook her head. “I don’t think he’s coming, he’s not on the auction list – hasn’t even submitted anything.” she said casually, fiddling with her straw. Your stomach dropped, as Clint grimaced. “Good.” he said, letting out a sigh of relief. You frowned. “What’s the problem?” A forced smile stretched across Barton’s face. “Oh nothing! Just...trying to lay low that’s all. He and I had a little...never mind.” You shifted your handbag on the bar, feeling the weight of Loki’s seal rolling gently against the sides. He wouldn’t want to lose it, you thought; remembering the awkward conversations with airport security in Rome. A flash of green caught your attention out the corner of your eye. Whipping your head towards the entrance, you watched as a polished and preened Amanda sashayed around the edge of the crowd like a shark. Green, you scoffed. She’s really laying it on thick. Amanda teetered on her heels before pausing, forehead creased as she plopped down on a chair and hoisting one leg over the other. Clint cleared his throat. “They’re starting again, Tony sent me to get you guys. Shall we?” The next forty-five minutes went by in a haze as your gaze flickered intermittently to the main doors. Loki never missed a chance to schmooze with the higher echelons of Midgardian society. He enjoyed the look of abject terror on Steve’s face too much. You clapped dryly with the others as each lot was closed: Thor’s silk nightcap, Natasha’s make-up case, Lang’s personalised hip-flask and of course...Wanda’s bra. Where is he? You couldn’t help but notice Amanda glancing over her shoulder, meeting your eyes each time before quickly turning away. She made no bids, you noticed; but her stare wandered to the main entrance with suspicious regularity. The same as your own. Steve rumbled on, pausing for laughter as the crowd graciously indulged their host for the evening. Tony heckled from the side-lines, making the captain’s cheeks flush pink on each occasion. As he began the speech he had rehearsed for the closing remarks, you saw his blue eyes widen. The tell-tale shuffle of bodies parting behind you was the only other sound you registered as whispers ran through the crowd like the rustle of leaves. “Good Evening, Agent.” a low voice drawled softly over your shoulder. Wanda elbowed you teasingly in the ribs, her hands still folded on the high circular cocktail table. You elbowed her sharply back.

Tilting your chin casually to the side, you saw the blurred edge of Loki’s profile as he hovered at a respectful distance. “You’re late.” you hissed, heart thundering in your chest as the scent of him infused the air. You could have sworn the holy incense from the Roman church still clung to his hair. Loki chuckled lightly under his breath, hot air ghosting your ear. “I think you’ll find I’m right on time.” he purred, before peeling away to a space at a standing table to your side. Suddenly your mouth felt dry, flickering your eyes to the side covertly. Loki was wearing a suit tonight, but not just a suit; you whined internally. Never just a suit. Snug trousers of darkest forest green clung to his legs, the straight hem tailored flawlessly to the tongues of his dress shoes. A jacket of green sateen was wrapped around his exquisite musculature, biceps bulging beneath the glossy fabric as he conjured a drink to his open hand. You ran your eyes over the black lapel, his strong chest flat beneath the trussed layers of propriety you wanted to rip from his body.

Beneath the jacket, a silk waistcoat hugged his broad torso; the buttons glinting in the low atmospheric lights. A matching cravat wound around his long neck, fastened with a peculiar brooch you could only assume was Asgardian.

His hair was drawn back in an unkempt bun, messy strands hanging by his carved cheekbones. The contrast between his refined ensemble and the muss of his hair was not coincidental. It couldn’t be. A gentleman in the streets, a ravenous Asgardian whore in the sheets; it screamed. In his free hand, he held a cane; the tip heavy and ornately carved. Completely unnecessary, of course. Of course, you thought – watching him sip his drink with a knowing smirk. People were staring. And among them, Amanda. Steve cleared his throat pointedly, trying to recapture the section of the crowd engrossed in the unexpected late arrival. Your gaze swung back to the blushing blonde just as a stagehand crept sheepishly to his side, handing him a note.

“-and so in conclusion we would like to thank...to...wait wha-?” he raised his hands towards Tony, waving to the note with undisguised irritation. You saw Stark shrug, closing his eyes as his eyebrows raised. Just go with it, the gesture said. Steve frowned. “It seems we have one final item for auction, folks.” the captain said sourly, his feelings on the matter abundantly clear. “Courtesy of Loki Laufeyson apparently...which is..is-” He trailed off as he flipped the prompt card in his hand over, before waving it subtlety to the man who had delivered it, hidden offstage. The stagehand shrugged, making Steve purse his lips. “Well...I’m sure whatever our newest member has submitted for tonight’s fundraising efforts will be top notch. Why don’t we get the man himself up here to tell us about it, since he’s being so coy?” Steve looked smugly towards towards the god in the crowd, before he frowned. Loki was already sauntering towards the stage, tipping the ostentatious cane to excited applause before he began to climb the steps. You could see Steve’s lips moving, the rest of his face a stoic warning. He spun on his heels towards the audience, whipping the microphone cable once. “So, why don’t you tell the generous people here what they’ll be bidding on?” he announced through gritted teeth, an air of joviality barely masking his anxiety. Rogers gaze ran suspiciously over the god's placid features before turning back to the crowd with a showman smile. Loki clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward to the microphone clenched in the captain’s fist. “Me.” he said, slowly.

There were gasps as the guests leaned to each others ears, hands impulsively travelling to the bidding paddles discarded prematurely. “Ha-ha-ha he’s only joking folks. Let’s not get excited.” Steve chuckled, extending a hand to pat down the enthusiasm on the air. “Why don’t you tell them what they’ll really be bidding on.” he said with a maniacal fake smile that looked like it hurt. Loki’s smirk was a masterpiece of mischief, flirting at the dimples at the base of those devastatingly high cheekbones. He bent forward to the microphone, and you saw the exact moment that Steve realised it was too late to pull it away. “Me.” Loki repeated with a growl, his voice even richer and more seductive the second time. His long fingers wrapped around Steve’s white knuckles, holding him steady. “For one night, for the highest bidder; I will show them what it is to be brought to the precipice of sanity through pleasure. My complete and utter carnal devotion. An unlocking of your basest and most debauched desires. That is my submission to this affair.” He straightened, his eyes flickering to Steve’s face now pinker than his fuchsia tie. The poor captain’s eyes were watering. You felt sick. “What the fuck is he doing?” Wanda hissed, before downing her drink. “This is ridiculous, how dare he... he needs a knee in the nuts-” You turned, shushing her. “No, just...I need to..think.” you muttered. On one hand, if he didn’t go above fifty thousand...you could probably afford it. Just. But then, why should you? The arrogant, cruel prick that he was. If there was ever a way to show you that he was over it, over you – then this was it. Fuck him, you thought; blood thundering as you saw Amanda twirling the paddle between her fingers. And he’s definitely going above fifty-fucking-thousand. You saw Tony begin to squirm as Steve took a few tentative steps to the front of the podium. “You know...ladies and gents I gotta say this is pretty heckin’ unorthodox right here and I’m not sure-” In a handful of frantic bounds, Tony was on the stage; his arms spread wide before he clapped Rogers harshly on the back. “-OK, thanks Cap.” he announced playfully. “Captain Goodtimes over here doesn’t think it would be proper to support tonight’s great cause with this...fine specimen on the bidding block.” He motioned up and down Loki’s long body, his endless limbs wrapped in the exquisite green suit that shimmered like blackbird feathers in the light. “Do you agree with him?” Tony yelled incredulously, winding up the baying crowd with a circling fist as chants of No filled the air. Steve was incandescent with embarrassment, redness flushing down beneath the collar of his shirt. “Are you ready to get a piece.of.this?” Tony roared, as Loki spun slowly on his heels, hands clasped behind his back before he raised them outwards with faux sheepishness. A smile tugged his lips, eyes smouldering across the crowd becoming steadily unsettled as friends became adversaries in the face of competition. Chaos was brewing.

You suddenly felt yourself jostled, Wanda’s hand grasping at your forearm before it slipped away. Swathes of guests crowded forward, each trying to be subtle and failing miserably. Men and women crushed together towards the stage, elbows popping dangerously close to eyes as they readied their paddles for action. “Let’s start the bidding at...twenty thousand.” Tony postured towards the fizzing audience, casting an appraising glance back towards Loki who met his stare with a tilt of his head. His lips pursed, a silent 'ooo' sliding between his lips as he feigned offence.

Tony grinned, pressing the microphone innocently to his chin. “Number seventeen, I see you.” he pointed. “Twenty five thousand.” a strangled voice shrieked behind you. “Twenty-five, not bad.” Tony mumbled, beginning to pace. Loki swung the handle of his cane casually, before making it flip in the air and land expertly back in his grip. The crowd groaned in unison, the scent of mass arousal beginning to hang heavy in the air. You felt your pussy clench beneath your party dress, beads of sweat beginning to form on your collarbone. In a flash, the cane disappeared, as Tony let his forefinger trail down the silk of Loki’s waistcoat, toying with a chain hanging from the pocket. “It’s a nice suit Laufeyson – you’ve got quite the wardrobe, but I think your bidders are more interested in what’s underneath all that slutty satin am I right?” he said coyly, raising an eyebrow. Feral roars of approval sounded around you, as you were shunted back and forth. The man beside you shot up his hand. “Thirty-five!” he yelled, waving the paddle in the air. The increments came like bullets as Loki’s fingers toyed with the silk cravat wound around his neck, sliding the material teasingly from the curve. He threw it into the audience, two women falling to the floor as they became a squabbling mess of bare legs and dishevelled Chanel.

This can’t be happening, you thought with a wave of panic. You clenched the paddle in your fist to your chest, watching the smouldering sweep of Loki’s gaze run like treacle over his captive audience as he began to shrug the satin jacket from his shoulders.

“Fifty!” you heard yourself gasp, arm straight in the air. Tony’s face scrunched, his amusement palpable as he acknowledged the desperate bid with a nod. But it was white noise. “Sixty-five!” the man beside you blurted immediately, shouldering you roughly to the side as he squeezed forwards. You cast a pleading look towards Wanda, who shook her head in disapproval. Tony didn’t have to say a word, pointing to each bidder as they continued to come thick and fast. Loki held his waistcoat with one long finger, dangling it teasingly to the side before letting it drop. It vanished before hitting the floor. Seventy. Eighty-two. Ninety-five thousand. The devastatingly erotic god treated each button of his shirt like an act of foreplay. His fingers caressed the curve before releasing another sliver of fair skin to the sound of baying moans of desire all around you. Beginning to force your way against the tide of bodies to Wanda, you collided with Scott. “Oh hey.” he grinned, eyes wide with excitement. “This is fucking ca-ray-zy right?” Another wave of squeals told you Loki had reached the end of the line of buttons. Suddenly Scott raised both arms, throwing his head back. “A HUNDRED N’ FIFTY BIG ONES!” he yelled, returning to his previous stance as if nothing had happened.

“What?” he quipped casually, giving a shrug of resignation as he was immediately outbid. “Just shooting my shot. Plus, this is legend already. Iconic. No way I ain’t gonna be part of that.” You rolled your eyes, beginning to press against the mass of bodies to the side. “We should get t-shirts. ‘I bid on Loki Laufeyson’…” he joked to no-one. “’And all I got was this stupid semi.’” he added wistfully as you finally reached Wanda. “I saw your bid. It was kind of lame.” she drawled. You shook your head. “I don’t know what to do Wanda.” you whined, wringing your hands. You heard a commotion as the crowd parted over near the doors – a woman had fainted. Loki’s smirk was pure drama as he showed off the endless length of his body with finesse, bare chest glowing beneath the stage-lights. His legs were wide – a perfect triangle wrapped in tight, luxurious cotton that creased against his thighs. The bulge of his cock was clearly visible, every subtle sway of his hips making the fabric stretch against the outline. The bladed angles of his face flashed tantalisingly beneath heavy-lidded eyes as he reached for his belt buckle. Five hundred thousand. Five-fifty. Six hundred.

Wanda rolled her eyes again. “Look – if he doesn’t say it back? Well then he’s the same asshole he’s always been. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that.” she mumbled, taking another sip of her drink. “But the auction-” you whined, feeling Wanda’s other-worldly grip tighten on your wrist. “You’re an Avenger, dumbass.” she growled. “Fuck the auction.” “Fuck the auction.” you repeated unconvincingly under your breath, turning to face the source of your undoing. Loki’s eyes met yours across the room as he ambled forwards, ignoring the hordes of guests who had lost all sense of decorum scrounging at the stage’s edge. They were feral. Over the chaotic din, you could swear you heard the clunk of metal as his graceful fingers toyed with the metal fastening at his hips. He slid the leather out of its loops slowly. Tony wolf- whistled. “Hoooo-eee folks, do I hear seven hundred thousand for a night of debauchery with this actual...real life...bona-fide sex god. Think of the orphans, people.” he jibed, working the crowd into a frenzy. Eight hundred, eight-fifty, nine hundred. You watched the constant flash of frenzied paddles rise and fall, your breaths becoming ragged under duress. “Do I hear one million?!” Tony smarmed, unfurling his arm towards Loki who had placed his hands on his hips, working the waistband of his trousers down to reveal the V of his muscles. “Come on, we’ve all seen the Twitter photos...don’t pretend you haven’t read the tabloids - you know he’s worth it.” Loki flicked a strand of hair back from his eyes, throwing Tony a slow wink as a paddle for the one million bid rose tentatively in the air. Fuck, Tony. you thought, slamming your paddle down to the bar table. “Are you gonna use that?” a woman behind you mumbled inaudibly, before sliding it away. Your frantic eyes found Amanda, still seated elegantly at one of the high stools. There was something different about her tonight, you pondered; as she waited with a look of unbreakable concentration. Waiting to pounce.

There were gasps as Loki reached one arm up, the mouth-watering curve of his bicep matched only by the tight stretch in his obliques. He tilted his chin down, the coquettishly slutty pose making you realise a flood of wetness had begun pooling traitorously between your thighs. He slowly dragged the hair-tie from his messy bun, letting waves of curls fall around his collarbone. “Final bids, folks.” Tony sighed. “I don’t think Laufeyson can take off any more clothes without Steve-y boy going into cardiac arrest.” he quipped, fighting to contain laughter as he glanced at Rogers concealed off stage. Final bids. A wave of nausea rolled in your belly. Who had bid last? Was it the stockbroker, the mayor’s wife? Obama? You couldn’t tell, the mass of jostling bodies melding into one horrible sludge of jealousy. “Two million.” a clear-cut voice called over the carnage. Every head in the room turned to gape at the owner, but you didn’t even need to look. It was her. Tony released a low whistle, spinning on his heels and patting Loki on the shoulder with a commiserate shake. “Two million. No pressure, bud. Hope the royal sceptre has been resting recently.” he mumbled with feigned secrecy into the microphone. Loki chuckled, leaning over. “A veritable bargain, I assure you.” he smirked. “That’s my boy!” Tony chuckled gleefully, spinning to the front. “Two million going once…” Your eyes were wide, turning to Wanda who nudged her head frantically to the head of the room. Tackle him, it said. “Two million going twice…” - “Where’s my paddle…?” you gasped, not thinking straight, “I..fuck.” “Sold!” Tony yelled, to moans of disappointment and reluctant clapping. “To the beautiful Amanda Goldberg for two...million...dollars. Come get your prize, m’lady.”

You saw red, the room starting to spin as the applause grew louder. The flow of Amanda’s dress swirled towards the stage, a bare-chested Loki down on one knee to welcome her with a kiss on her outstretched hand. “Loki, no!” you gasped quietly– pushing the crowd to the side as you elbowed forward. His arm slid around Amanda’s shoulders, planting a lingering kiss on her cheek with a secret smile. “Loki!” you yelled, shoving the final obstacle from your path. Tony. He spluttered, waving his hands dramatically as you hopped onto the stage and took three stumbling steps to where Loki waited with hands clasped behind his back. Even in his stripped state, messy curls hanging devilishly around his chiselled features dark with the lust of baying adoration – he was a prince. Your prince. The crowd began to whisper, awkward murmurs of dissent bubbling like lava at your back. You could feel the heat of their confusion wafting against your skin as it rose in your cheeks. Loki stared unblinking, his eyes narrowing for a split second as he analysed your stricken features.

“Can I help you?” he purred innocently, drumming his fingers around Amanda’s bicep. She gave a loud, cartoonish giggle. You swallowed harshly, throat dry. Loki tilted his head, feigned-confusion painted on his ethereal features. You grasped at your clutch bag, feeling it click open with a fumble of your moist fingers. “I wanted to give you this...back.” you stuttered, arm outstretched with his ancient seal in the flat of your palm.

Loki looked at it for what felt like an eternity, before his eyes finally rose.

“Are you sure you wish to return this to me?” he murmured, arm dropping from Amanda’s shoulder. His chin was tilted to his chest, ropes of muscle flexing at his neck. The growing whispers of the crowd faded to nothing, the beat of your heart the only sound as it thudded in your ears. “No, actually.” you heard yourself say, voice trembling. Loki inhaled sharply. His chest puffed, hard abdominals clenching as he braced himself. Reluctant tears stung your eyes, fingers shaking as the heavy seal began to quiver in your outstretched hand. You tried to blink the impending flood away, glancing to the side. Steve stood behind the wings, wringing his hands with a deep frown. Your eyelids fluttered shut, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. You could hear Tony trying to clear the crowd, tempting them to the bar with the offer of free booze, before Loki’s warm breath fanned your forehead. “Then do not return it.” he said, carefully wrapping your fingers around the cool metal. His hand clasped your own, squeezing gently as he lowered to your ear. “It is yours.” he whispered. It is yours. Maybe it was the scent of him, maybe it was the heat of his naked skin so close, the warmth with which his fingers intertwined with yours, holding his sacred mark. Maybe it was the faint plead in his voice. But as your eyes rose along the carved lines of his chest and up the curve of his neck, savouring every inch – you somehow knew what you would find. Loki’s eyes shone with nervous anticipation, brows slanted upwards as he licked his bottom lip. His teeth caught the curve, pulling gently. They swam with worlds unseen and words unsaid, long lashes framing the endless chaos you had lost yourself within. Hopelessly.

A rogue tear rolled down your cheek, making you look away. “No, darling...no-” Loki murmured, confusion lacing his tone as he wiped it softly with his thumb.

He cupped your face, drawing it towards him. “Please, Loki...don’t.” you gulped, swallowing the force threatening to humiliate you in front of the whole of New York high society. He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. Tendrils of his hair grazed your cheeks, curtaining you from the crowd at your back as his fingertips slid from your jaw to your shoulders; gently at rest. “Agent, I…” he started, breath trembling. His grip tightened, a staggered exhale making his stomach clench. Three loud slaps sounded by your feet, making you jump. Loki released you with a growl, as you spun towards a very pissed-off looking Tony resting casually on the side of the stage.

“Can you guys hurry up? Trying to save this thing, here. Thanks, Laufeyson, by the way, for the added theatrics. Very amusing, as always.” he scoffed dryly, inspecting his nails. “Will you desist?” Loki hissed, crouching forward. Tony shrugged. “Better get the two mill for the orphans. That’s all I’m saying. Little Loki’s got his work cut out tonight.” “Little?!” Loki snarled indignantly, sweeping his hair back from his forehead as he rose to his full height once more.

The vein in his temple twitched, anger flashing across the sharp profile you knew so well. You grasped his bicep, feeling the tight bulge soften as his breaths steadied. Nerves twisted in your belly like acid, the room beginning to swim as you felt the moment begin to pass. Not again. You took a deep breath; “Loki, what were you going to-” The god whipped round, jaw set in a grimace as he swiped against your forearm with his own. Your hand was swept from his bicep, caught in a millisecond by the warrior grasp of his long fingers. “That I love you, you infuriating woman.” he yelled ferociously, brow furrowing as he realised he had said it aloud. You gaped, frowning as you fought lacklustre against his iron grip. Breaths quickened in your chest, panting as you looked at the abject fear beginning to creep into Loki’s eyes. The gazes of a hundred confused spectators became nothing but a blur, their mutters fading. You stilled, letting your hand become limp. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. Suddenly, you lunged towards him - hooking your free arm around his shoulders. Loki swallowed a gasp as your lips met his with force, a low sigh breathing into your mouth as he melted into you. The god’s hands travelled to your ass, hoisting you around his hips as his tongue massaged your own with wild intensity. A palm slid up your back, winding in your hair as he pushed your face roughly to his. You could hear the PG-curses of Rogers as he frantically hoisted the stage curtains closed, his inane blustering audible over the gasps of intrigue from the crowd beyond. Loki’s feral kisses had moved to your neck, the desperate adrenaline coursing through him as he devoured your soft skin in messy sucks. You found your fingers curling in his lengths, pulling his head back gently. Just like the old days, you thought with a thrill. He frowned, panting. Loki wet his lips, preparing to speak before you covered his mouth with a flat palm. “I love you too, you infuriating whatever-you-are.” you enunciated slowly, lips feeling heavy with the force of his affections. The god’s brows slanted, deep lines appearing in his forehead as he shook his head from side to side; making your hand slip away. “Truly?” he growled incredulously, peering up through ebony lashes. “Truly.” you whispered, watching a smile as radiant as an April sunrise creep slowly across his face. “What happened to ‘I know you love me, Agent’…” you coyed, impersonating the timbre of his voice as he lowered you to the ground. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you flush to his bare chest. “Knowing and feeling are two different things, Agent.” he purred, before placing a languishing kiss on your forehead. “What would be the point in your love for me...” he murmured, muffled against the skin, “if you did not believe it yourself?” There was silence as Loki’s fingertip tenderly grazed your collarbone, steady breaths rising and falling between you as he nuzzled into your temple with a low sigh. You opened your eyes over Loki’s shoulder. “Oh – shit, what about her?” you groaned, giving a small, awkward wave to Amanda several meters away. That’s weird, you thought; frowning. She’s smiling. Smiling like...

Loki’s hand rose, a click of his fingers making the emerald skirts of Amanda’s dress begin to smoulder with bright green flame. “My brother owed me quite a few favours, Agent…” he murmured apologetically with a smile against your cheek.

Your eyes widened as a bulky frame peeled into view behind the mirage of Loki’s magic. But the grin – the grin was still the same. Thor flicked his hair, running his palms down his torso. “That’s better.” he rumbled, throwing you a wink. “Sorry about that…” he chuckled. “Motivation was required, apparently.” He folded his meaty forearms. “I still think you’re mad for being in love with him, by the way. But there’s no accounting for taste.” “You better not have started another Oath of Most Ass-yoor-red Recompense scenario.” you muttered dryly to your dark-haired lover, making another smile stretch across his face. He pulled you tight. “No, darling. This was purely fraternal reparations. Isn’t that right, brother?” he growled. “I have been reliably informed that I have been, what you call, a dick-head.” Thor grumbled penitently, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Indeed.” Loki hummed coldly, before his voice softened. “But tonight has gone some way to mending said wrongdoings. Along with your agreed donation to the orphan-fund, naturally.” “Naturally.” Thor grumbled, averting his eyes. Loki’s fingers toyed with the shell of your ear, the tips exploring the angle of your jaw lightly as if for the first time. “I believe that we should..talk? As is the custom I believe? If you’ll permit it.” You nodded, giddy disbelief still coursing through your veins. “As long as it’s not in this fucking ballroom.” you scoffed, before squealing as Loki gathered you effortlessly against his chest bridal style. “Gods, no.” Loki purred, capturing your lips in a wet kiss before his tantalisingly moist lips grazed your ear. “I think it’s time you finally saw my chambers, Agent -don’t you?”

Continued in Final Bids: Love Wins Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @wheredafandomat @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @123forgottherest @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @cheekyscamp @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @cheekyscamp @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman

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cloud-kitsune · 1 year

Photo

Inspired by @dbzclownbro‘s personal headcanon for Broly/Trunks regarding their sleeping habits. I love the idea of Broly being a huge spooner-type, including being quite clingy when sharing a bed. Trunks cannot escape the possessively loving grip of Broly during these moments... not that he’s complaining.

#Dragon Ball Z #DBZ #Broly #Trunks Briefs #Broly x Trunks #BrolyTrunks #Brolly x Trunks #BrollyTrunks #CK Artwork #doodle comic #Domestic #Fluff

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its-ya-boi-kaz · 1 year

Text

Memories

(a kaz x inej fanfic/fluff/1201 words)

Summary :

Kaz buys a house for Captain Ghafa of the Seas, Freer of Slaves, treasure of his heart.

She is sitting on the same windowsill she had sat on five years ago. Her thick, black eyelashes are fanned across her cheeks and she has braided her hair into a tight coil, the same way she used to five years ago. A welcome memory comes to Kaz, like a dusty glass pane wiped clean, and he could finally see what was on the other side. He could finally see what he had never allowed himself to think upon, until now. A memory so deep tucked into his heart that he had almost lost it.

But now he remembers, he had sat in this same chair and looked at her sitting on the same windowsill and he had heard her laugh and thought if he could've bottled the sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him. Five years ago.

Now, instead of his spider, there is the Queen of The Seas, Freer of Slaves, the fearsome Captain Ghafa. And Inej. Inej who never left behind her faith even when her saints were cruel. Inej who had seen the world in all its endless ugliness and still smiles like she holds nothing but love in her heart. Knowing her, she probably does. And a fraction of it, Kaz flatters himself, is for him.

"Kaz?" Inej's voice snaps him out of his merry daydream and he fumbles for an believable excuse.

"Hmm?"

"You're staring. I asked you what you were staring at."

"There was a crow behind you," Kaz says, and then mentally winces at his inability to think correctly around her.

She laughs, and even years later, Kaz wants to bottle the sound and get drunk on it every night. Though, it terrifies him no more. And he realizes that, without her, this room was too familiar yet so entirely different.

Something clicks inside his head, and Kaz walks over to her. He looks out to the locked up windows of every building in sight. From the corner of his eye, he sees Inej follow his gaze.

"That's because of you," Kaz says.

"What is?"

"The locks. They knew you were coming." Inej looks back to the windows, new steel glinting gold in the sun's light.

"What about old man Mikhael?" she asks, looking at him as though she wants to know if he still remembers. He does. A clerk who made girls stolen from their homes and didn't know Kerch sign wavers of slavery, who got his fingers cut in half one by one by a certain Suli girl.

"He finally repaired his broken pane that has been leaking buckets every rain for three years," Kaz states smugly. The news of the Wraith returning had spread throughout Ketterdam like a wildfire. The barrel bosses and corrupt businessmen have all heard of ships that depart for slaves and come back piled with bodies to be taken to the morgue. As much as they don't admit it, they're afraid. They take precautions against any movement in the shadows. All but one. The lone leader of the Dregs hears their frightened whispers and has to fight the urge to grin.

He is suddenly aware of a weight against his chest. He sees Inej with her gaze turned towards the sunset, though he knows she isn't quite watching. Something in him recoils, but this time, he won't be the foolish boy who thought he had nothing to lose. This time, he doesn't push her away. Instead, he closes his eyes and feels her small figure againt his chest. Her elbow, punctuating a toned arm, jutting slightly beneath his ribs.

And then, maybe out of desire or simple curiosity, he puts his －ungloved－ hand over hers. The poison rises again to his throat, but this time, he has the antidote. He needs to hear her voice, so he asks,

"Do you see that house over there?"

"Which one?" Inej inquires, after a moment of silence. Kaz closes his hand over hers and points somewhere with her index finger. He then has a foolish thought that he can hear her heartbeat.

Inej turns her head to where Kaz is pointing. A house not quite far from the Slat, of adequate space with a small garden up front lined with －from what she could make out－ bushes of wild geraniums. It wasn't there when she had last been here, but it was a lovely house.

"It is ours," Kaz rasps above her.

"What?" she jerks her head up, narrowly missing his chin.

"I mean that I payed for it, but it's in your name," Kaz affirms, still looking at the house instead of her.

"Why? Kaz, why would you- you know i-" he suddenly feels like he is being interrogated, which is not a good feeling for him.

"For when you come ba- when you come to visit." He knew what this meant, but that didn't stop him from saying, "We can't have all of our memories on windowsills and makeshift desks."

Memories. That is what he was asking for, memories of her, memories with her, memories of her and him together. He senses her gaze burning through him, acknowledging the weight of what he had asked her. As he breathes in the scent of the oils she rubs in her hair, he wonders when exactly did she steal his heart, that he had not even known existed. Or rather, when did he offer it to her on a silver platter.

He wonders when did she give him the knife to carve the beating organ out of his chest and present it to her. Was it when she snuck up to him in the Menagerie catching him by surprise for the first and last time? Or when he found her bleeding on top of a crate, ready to die by her own blade? Was it when he was drowning and fighting for breath and his only thought was her? Or when he first brushed his lips against the pulse in her neck in the lush bathroom of the Ketterdam suite? Because when she looks at him with such tender eyes and sweet smile, he knows his heart is there, right in the palm of her hand.

"You built that for me?" The same tender eyes are now flooded to the waterline.

"Yes," Kaz replies.

"Brick by brick?"

He stares at her, stupefied. Then, out of nowhere, laughter erupts from him. It starts in his chest, a giddy feeling, making its way up his throat until he laughs more genuinely than he has ever. She starts to laugh, too. Her voice thick with tears combining with his hoarse, raspy one.

His laughter dies down and he regards Inej while he allows a small smile to stay on his face. Her grin has softened into something so delicate that it might shatter if he didn't shield it with his own lips.

Their eyes meet in the red glow of the dying sun, and Kaz glimpses something so golden, unrestrained, and bright he thinks he might go blind. He leans forward to press his lips briefly on top of her hair. For a moment, he is just a boy whose girl has come to visit.

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