#and i want to try to catch up on those early prompt days i missed!

[callaeidae3]

A Month of Whump (@amonthofwhump ) - Day 5: Frosty the Snowman

Turned into decoration | Trapped in a blizzard | Self-sacrifice | Comfort: Warm kisses

"You’re tired," Kyle murmurs. He brushes Yuuki’s hair out of his eyes. "You’re tired and you’re hurting, but you’re not weak...

"You’ve survived so much already.

"...that's not weak at all."

Scene from The Redemption of Kindall, K. (Kindall K, #2) - Ch. 30

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #self sacrifice #comfort: warm kisses #platonic intimacy #hurt comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #whump aftermath #kindall k series #kk2 #yuuki takahashi #kyle kindall #beaten up #bruised #forehead kisses #face cradling #whump art #drew for prompt 5 today as i couldn't think of anything for prompt 11 #and i want to try to catch up on those early prompt days i missed!

[scudslut]

A New Years Surprise 🎀

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, poorly written smut, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected p in v, porn with some plot lol

a/n: i know i’m a little late but happy new years everyone!:) thought i’d start off on the right foot this year with some Daryl lovin<3 also don’t mind my writing i’m just getting back into it so i’m a bit rusty:/

“God, you’re such a dumbass,” you muttered to yourself, cringing at the reflection staring back at you.

Currently, you were a mess.

Tonight was Alexandria’s supposed ‘New Years Eve’ celebration, like we actually had anything to celebrate or look forward to.

There were always those few people you’d come across over the years, that had somehow managed to keep track of the time passed and as it turns out, Alexandria’s people were very serious when it came to sticking to the old worlds holidays and traditions.

Hell, they’d host parties and backyard shindigs on a regular bases, no prompt needed.

It was bizarre, and even after a full year living here, you still weren’t used to it.

Deep down, a small sliver of you agreed that it was something special about this place. That it somehow kept the hopeful humanity glimmering inside the residents. But the larger, much more sceptical side of you, couldn’t help but notice the flaws of the idea and the dangers of false hope.

Or maybe it was just because you looked fucking ridiculous trying to play dress up.

Either way, you hated the celebrations.

This one in particular though, caught you off guard.

You hadn’t payed much attention to New Years before the world ended, and just assumed that would be the same now; but when you caught wind of the party, you felt your stomach bubble in excitement.

And for one reason only.

Daryl.

You knew Daryl was an absolute sucker for dainty dresses and lingerie and you hadn’t ever gotten the chance to wear something like that for him. But a few days prior, you had stumbled across a small shopping mall on run and found this adorable matching light pink set and had to stuff it away in case the opportunity to surprise him presented itself.

Well, here it was.

And man was that excitement rapidly turning into a full blown panic attack.

Running your fingers through your hair haphazardly, you studied your appearance in the mirror.

You’d only so far put on the lingerie and a small black skirt and you already felt confined and self conscious. The straps weren’t sitting right, the cups of your bra were too big, causing weird awkward gaps.

Sighing, you close your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands.

This was just awful.

You could already hear the beginnings of the party going, music and laughter flowing in through your slightly cracked window and it only caused you to sink further into yourself.

You felt your mind slip into your self deprecating thoughts as you began to tune out the world around you, missing the soft creaks of footsteps on the wooden floored hallway.

The door of your shared room was wide open, as it was only the two of you that occupied the small house.

Daryl took you in for a moment, leaning against the doorframe observing your defeated aura silently.

He immediately knew what was bothering you, he could read you like a book at this point. He crept up behind you, gently touching your shoulder as to not frighten you from your thoughts.

Jumping slightly, your eyes flew open and landed on those deep familiar blue ones you adored, staring back at you through the mirror.

His natural scent caught your nose and your body subconsciously began to ease, slumping back into his chest.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” you whisper to him as you notice his eyes drift down your body.

You wrap your arms around yourself, not wanting him to see your failed attempt at a surprise and be disappointed.

You should have known he’d be quicker than you.

“Not so fast, baby,” he says, catching your arms before they can fully shield your torso from him and twisted you around to face him.

“It’s nothing, really Daryl, I-I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you mumble feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

That’s when you notice the dark, lustful glimmer in his eyes and awed expression clear as day on his features.

Oh. He likes it.

Heat pooled in your stomach.

Daryl bunches the fabric of your dainty skirt in his hand contemplatively, drawing it up ever so slowly and tucking it into the waist band to keep you exposed.

You could feel his eyes wander your skin, like soft breathy kisses, from finger tips to the dip of your collar bones.

Your breathe catches as you feel the faintest pressure on your dripping cunt.

“This all fer me?” He whispers, slowly sliding his middle finger from the wet patch on your panties to the tiny pink bow at the hem.

He finger dips into the waist when he doesn’t hear your response, and snaps it back against your skin.

“Y-yes Dar,” you gasp.

Of course it was for him, you were his and he damn well knew that, but he simply couldn’t help himself from asking time to time.

He continued to toy with the bow thoughtfully, letting his finger tips graze over the sensitive skin there. Over your hip bones, stomach, and down to your inner thighs, never allowing too much pressure so it felt like soft tickles.

He enjoyed to watch you pant and writhe. Liked the way your skin would erupt in goosebumps every place he touched.

He was a hunter after all.

He could spend hours playing with every detail of you, work you up until you have tears welling in your eyes and your cunt was practically pulsing.

Though you’d beg and plead for him to stop, to give you what you need, he knew you loved it.

And so did he.

Daryl Dixon was a tease.

“Wanted to surprise you after the party,” you manage to squeak out and his gaze finally meets yours.

“Did ya now?” he mocks, walking you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed and you take a seat at the edge. He looms over you, thumb grazing your bottom lip and you simply nod back at him.

“Well, ya can be certain there ain’t gonna be no party anymore,” he growls, staring you down like you had offended him somehow.

He harshly grips your hips, pulling them till your ass was practically hanging off the edge and drops down to his knees before you, spreading your legs to make room for himself.

All you can do is watch him, mouth parted open as he manhandles you however he pleases.

“And where did ya find somethin’ so pretty, hm?” he questions gruffly, once again rubbing his thumb over the wet patch forming on your panties.

You lean back on your arms, dropping your chin to watch his movements.

“I-uh, on a run the other day,” you huff, your words stuttering in excitement and anticipation.

Daryl only hums in response, as he dips his fingers and pulls them to the side, exposing you fully to him.

He barely gives you a second to register his actions before he’s dropping his head between your thighs, licking a long strip across your soaked cunt.

Your body jolts in surprised pleasure, your right hand flying to grip his soft brown locks as he laps at your clit.

Moaning loudly, your hips rock into him as he continues to lick and suck, lost in the taste of you.

“Oh god,” you whimper. Your arms are shaking behind you, ready to give out any second as you watch Daryl devour you like you were his last meal on earth.

He always looked so damn pretty, eyes closed and entrapped between your thighs.

He lifts his head, groaning at the sight of you and begins trailing kisses over your hips and down your inner thighs.

“Sweet girl,” he mumbles between kisses, “always thinkin’ bout me, huh?”

Your eyes roll back as you sink to your elbows, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Asked you a question, baby,” he nips at your skin causing a soft sting.

“Always Dar,” you pant, rolling your hips into him again. Your body was pulsing with lust and Daryl could sense how needy you were for him, like it had been weeks without his touch and honestly, it felt like that for him too.

He was about ready to cum in his jeans at the sight of you alone. Legs spread for him, pupils blown wide while you panted and moaned noisily just for him to hear.

Trailing his lips back up, he grips your waist stilling your movements, “What do ya need from me, hm?”

Your mind blanks for a moment, surprised by his uncharacteristic generosity. He was never this quick to give you what you need, always wanting to drag your pleasure for miles and miles until each pretty sound you could possibly make filled his ears.

“Come on now, or do you want me to decide for ya?” he asks again and you quickly shake your head, grabbing him by the shoulders and scooting back until you both were at the top of the bed.

As he lands above you, arms on each side of your head, you finally feel him and how hard he already was.

Rocking into him suggestively, “You know what I need,” you whisper.

Daryl groans from the friction, dropping his head to your shoulder and rutting into you further, chasing your movements.

You hadn’t seen him this worked up and responsive in a long time, and god were you loving it.

You pull his head up to face you and crash your lips onto his, hands finding his belt trying to discard him of it as fast as you possibly can. Daryl’s a panting mess above you, “Baby are you tryna kill me?” he groans when he feels your hands brush against his cock as you attempt to rid him of his jeans.

All you can do is whimper into his mouth as you struggle, and he kicks them down and off the bed.

He grabs you hands and pulls them above you, pinning them down as he begins to attack your neck with bites and kisses.

“Please Dar,” you whine, “need you now.”

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, attempting to soothe you as he draws your skirt and panties down your legs.

You begin tearing at his vest, needing to feel him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You feel him chuckle against you, “So eager for me, are ya?” as he lines himself up with your aching core, teasing you even more.

Taking him by surprise, you crush his hips into yours, filling yourself to the hilt all at once. You gasp from from the mixture of pain and pleasure, as Daryl all but whines into your mouth.

“Oh shit, fuck me,” he groans as he begins to slam into you at a bruising pace. You claw at his shoulders, rocking your hips to match his fast movements.

“Just love this cock, don’t ya?” he grunts, lifting one of your legs around his waist to drive into you even deeper.

You felt your brain cloud over, unable to think about anything other than him, drunker on his cock than you’d been from any night of drinking you’d partaken to in the past.

“Don’t go dumb on me now, darling. What did I ask ya?” he repeats, slowing his hips to sensual rolls, so it only stroked that cord in your stomach but kept it from building any further.

“God yes,” you moan, matching his slow but absolutely delicious pace.

Daryl is a groaning mess in your ears as your bodies dance a synchronized rhythm together, moulding into each other like pieces of a puzzle.

His hand snakes between you two, finding your clit easily and he begins to stroke you gently, allowing the fire in your abdomen to build rapidly.

“Oh Dar,” you moan and Daryl only picks up the pace, chasing after his own high to experience with you. Your clutching to him for dear life as he pounds into you quickly, grunting and groaning quiet praises about how good you feel.

You can tell he’s close when his hips start to stutter and shake, losing his rhythm slightly and you finally feel the cord break.

Your body floods with ecstasy, cunt pulsing around him causing his high to come crashing over him with you. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you both come down, his hips slowing to a stop.

He rests his forehead down to yours while the both of you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Daryl start to chuckle against you and your eyes lazily drift open, “What?” you mumble, running your fingers slowly down his back.

“Never was a big fan of surprises before, but ya can bet your ass I am now.”

#daryl dixon #daryl imagines #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon smut #twd smut #twd drabbles #daryl x reader

[tragedy-of-commons]

killjoy

childe x gn!reader | wc: ~1.6k

You catch your boyfriend setting up the cake.

tags/warnings: bday fun, modern & college au, based off of the American College Experience™ sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, teucer is a national treasure, comedy, possibly ooc, reader has hair

notes: for @staarri's 100 followers & bday event <3 trying to write childe was a nightmare but the wheel of doom has spoken. chosen prompt "cruel summer" :)

It has been one hell of a day.

Pop quizzes in two of your classes (that you are now tanking), getting heckled by that same group of protesters, slamming head-first into a glass panel like a pigeon, and then getting splashed by a puddle via a speeding car. 

To give credit where credit is due, you’ve suffered through every incident with class and poise. Despite how you drip with murky street water, the saving grace that is the promise of your warm bed keeps you from inventing new profanities and falling to your knees in the student parking lot.

It’s almost over with, it’s almost over with—

The splintered door of your dorm unit has never looked more welcoming. When your keycard is approved with a click, you heave the barrier between you and uninterrupted sleep wide open. However, what you don’t expect is the little spectacle unfolding in your kitchenette.

Who you belatedly realize is your lovely boyfriend is sticking candles into something - it being quickly shielded from your view as he reacts to your arrival.

“You just had to be early,” he grins, revealing those pearly whites, “Maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Killjoy’.”

“Ajax?” He’s here? Today? But he said— He must notice your sorry state, but he’s wise enough not to mention it. “You really think I’d miss celebrating your birthday in person? Seriously, what kind of partner would I be, just sending you a text? Babe, you gotta start setting some higher standards.”

“Rotten liar,” you mumble, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. 

A small flash of copper peeks around the bedroom-adjoining hallway, hyper. Teucer rushes up in front of his brother, the latter ruffling his hair. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”

You snort, wondering if anyone else is planning to jump out of the shadows. “My sincerest apologies. I could always leave—”

“No need,” Ajax dismisses the notion with a cavalier wave. “I think we’re all ready, huh Teuce?”

He huffs in agreement, beaming up at you like you hung the moon. “One second!”

Teucer scampers off faster than you can blink, making you bellow a laugh. His energy knows no bounds, necessitating many hours of entertaining his whims. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Happy birthday,” Ajax says softly; wistfully.

You stalk over to him, embracing your boyfriend like he might disappear into thin air without a moment’s notice. “If you broke in, I will be calling campus security.” “You’d never turn me in! Also, we just so happen to still be on the guest card from last week.” You part from his warmth so you can kiss him. He tastes of sugar, the bastard.

“Buttercream?” you place, peering over his shoulder. The sight of a round cake on the counter confirms your suspicions, and your heart swells. He would’ve had to bake and decorate it somewhere else, given that ovens are a luxury you do not possess in college hell. You picture him in his too-nice apartment, piping frosting in the familiar loops of your name. “Yes!” Teucer rushes back in (you note that he’s hiding his hands behind his back), while Ajax pokes your nose. “Big brother spent soooo long on it!”

You snicker deviously. “Really?”

“No reason to lie,” your boyfriend pouts, “Though I’m a bit hurt that you’re both trying to embarrass me, after I went to all this trouble..”

Teucer sticks his tongue out in disgust whenever you console Ajax with another kiss, likely wanting you both to hurry up your gross couple stuff so he can show you his gift. It’s presented to you ceremoniously, and you honor the splendor by pretending not to know that it’s definitely one of his toys. 

Your acting is award-winning, perfectly ignoring the obvious ridges and appendages of a Transformer. After tearing open the paper, you’re told that his name is Mr. Cyclops and you have to take good care of him - your sworn oath.

(Of course, Mr. Cyclops will mysteriously end up back in Teucer’s bedroom if you can count on your partner in crime to help you out. You and Ajax share a Look that hints at conspiracy.)

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he is governed by even one modicum of shame. During the Happy Birthday song, he performs with his whole chest, much to your chagrin. You think that Ajax lives the most for other people; even if it shines brightest whenever he teases and flusters. His camaraderie is most genuine when he’s this comfortable - when he knows that the present moment is all he needs to focus on. 

When did he start letting his guard down? You find yourself unable to recall among past memories of trudging to the local diner at ungodly hours, cramming for finals at the library, and responsibly talking him down from any antics that would surely get him in trouble.

(Maybe it was when you first held an ice pack over his eye, swollen shut from a punch he shouldn’t have taken just for the thrill of it. Your admonishment must have been jarring, because without any teasing remarks whatsoever, he promised that he’d dial it down. You remember lacing your fingers with his - and promptly threatening to “embalm him with jet fuel” if he ever got hurt again.)

Now your relationship has progressed to the point where spending your first birthday together feels natural. It feels so natural that shitty paper plates stacked high with slices of cake is enough to make you forget that you look like that one damp owl picture. Ajax, as per his boyfriend duties, has to remind you, of course.

“Bad day, huh?” 

You rest your chin on your fist, elbow supported by the armrest of your (comically small) couch. In retrospect, the fleeting illusion of a living room probably wasn’t worth it. Squished into a corner by a dozing Teucer and an awake Ajax, you yawn. “The worst, actually.”

“Well, we can’t be having that,” he tips your chin up to meet azure hues, “Maybe my gift will make you feel better.”

You blink. “Gift? You don’t have to, you know. The little guy’s was plenty enough for me.” 

Ajax spares a fond glance at his little brother, whose head is resting in his lap, legs thrown over the opposite armrest. “Nonsense! If you’re worried about me having bought out a whole store—”

“Don’t tell me you—”

“—Then you have nothing to fret over, Killjoy,” he laughs. “It’s pretty small.”

You don’t suppress the smile that breaks out on your face. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Hopefully not too hard.” He’s so annoying. You want to kiss him stupid.

From what you assume is from his back pocket, he removes a black silk pouch before dropping it into your awaiting hand. He was right about it being small, that’s for sure. Toying with the material of it for a moment, you pull open the bag delicately. Ajax tenses. “So.. whaddya think?”

Inside is a brass key that fits into your palm nicely. Of course you’ll love anything he gives you, but you’re unsure of what this could mean. Is it symbolic? Literal? You thumb over the grooves, unsure of what they could possibly unlock. Your head swims with a fuzzy feeling that you don’t entirely hate.

“What’s it to?”

“Our place.”

It’s perfect. You turn the object this way and that way, swallowing. “Giving me my own copy? You realize that you’re gonna be stuck with me crashing at yours way more often, right?”

Your boyfriend wraps a sturdy arm around your shoulder. “It’s not there for you to crash, it’s there for you to stay. I want you to move in with me.”

The following awed silence from you is clearly taken as something else, because Ajax backpedals in that flippant way that belies the panic he’s actually feeling. You need to tell him that it’s okay; that it’s more than okay.

“Of course you can say no, but the rest of your birthday plans kinda hinge on the possibility that you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and say yes,” he amends.

You pay no heed to his theatrics, because all you really need is him. Gross. “Duh, idiot. As much as it kills me to say this, I’d want nothing more.” Ajax glows. “Because you’re head over heels in love with me?”

“No, because I won’t have to drag my ass to the laundromat anymore.”

The offended sound he lets out is muffled with your mouth against his once more, and the tears that roll down your cheeks are obviously not because you’re ecstatic to be so involved in his life. What a preposterous idea.

His hands cradle your face, a little awkward because of the position, but he’s so warm. 

“Killjoy, I have something to confess,” he breathes, pulling back enough so you can see the faint constellation of freckles dotting his features. “You need to start packing immediately, or else the flowers will wilt before you’re able to see them.”

You sigh, happy-sniffling. “Flowers? Is a bouquet perhaps part of these ‘birthday plans’?”

Ajax dries one of his hands stained with your tears off onto his shirt before raking it through Teucer’s curls affectionately. He stirs but does not wake. “Try thirty!”

“Ajax..” The horror in your tone barely disguises the admiration.

“I love you too, Killjoy.”

That night, when you’re both alone in his apartment, tangled in each other’s arms, your overnight bag on the floor - you tell him the same. The few tears he sheds into your hair are also definitely not because you’re finally comfortable enough to say it back. Ridiculous.

taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @bfajax, @aphrodict, @nomazee

#✧ my works #—stellaronhvnters. #childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #ajax x reader #genshin impact #zira's lover : event

[sunshine-theseus]

Meme Girls | Zecira Mušovic x Reader

Words: 2.7k Summary: doing a video with Zecira leads to a lot of unnecessary angst Warnings: angst, poor early a.m. writing request for - @wosofanfics note: y'all i'm sorry if this sucks. it has been proof read but i'm literally half asleep and it's 1:15am. i hope it's good.

“Welcome back to another episode of Meme Girls.” Laughter breaks out across the room as Zecira tries to introduce the video, tripping over her own tongue.

Aggie and I are sat on bean bags facing each other, Zecira between us. We were supposed to doing a football challenge with some of the other girls for someone’s YouTube channel but whoever was supposed to be joining the goalkeeper here had to pull out. That left us.

“To my- stop laughing! To my right side, Agnes Beever Jones!” I give a small cheer and clap as Aggie throws her hands up in the air, all of us laughing simultaneously. The camera man gives us a dirty look, a sign for us to hurry this up.

“And to my left,” I give her a wink when Zecira turns her head to look at me.

“Y/n, the hotshot, L/n!” I can hear some of the girls outside the door, cheering on as well as they pass by, some even whistling.

“Why does she get a cool nickname? That’s not fair.” Aggie complains, adjusting herself in her beanbag to look at me.

“I’m simply better.” A cheshire grin is thrown her way.

-

“When Emma tells you training is cancelled because of the rain.” The prompt is arguably quite easy but we both spend some time contemplating which photo suited it best. Aggie holds up a relatively old picture of Fran, clearly walking off the bus for a game, her thumbs are up, and earphones are in.

“Completely chill. A day to relax and have no worries, spend time with friends. Whatever you want.”

“Nah it’s time to celebrate. That call is rare and I’m appreciating every damn second.” I rather aggressively pull my photo from the stack of cards. A picture of me from last season after a UWCL game against Lyon, my shirt clutched in my hands as I knee slide into the corner after scoring the winning goal.

“Wow. You look really good there.” Zecira’s voice is pretty alluring as she compliments me, and I turn a fiery shade of red.

“This isn’t fair. Z is going to pick you because you’re in love or whatever.” The young striker whines.

“You and the fans with those stupid speculations. We’re just best friends.” I avoid looking at Z as I try to jokingly tell Aggie off, her eyes rolling at my denial. What I do miss is the light that dims in Zecira’s eyes as I say it.

“Whatever you say.”

We’re given a few more prompts before the media manager calls time. I end up winning 3-2, Aggie tossing a fit by throwing her cards at me. Her fake childishness is scolded by one of the onlookers, clearly too serious in comparison to us, but we only continue to laugh as we stand from the bean bags. I take hold of Zecira’s hand to help her up as well but pull too hard, the Swede falling forward as I rush to catch her. My hands slip under her shirt as I grab her hips and both of us blush a deep red as I try to apologise, trying to forget the feeling of her skin beneath my hands.

-

The next few days between Zecira and I are awkward. Between the tripping situation and the comments from Aggie, our relationship had been strained and neither of us wanted to bring it up, so we didn’t talk at all. The things fans had to say under the video didn’t help.

‘Zecira and Y/n are definitely dating right?’

‘Find someone who looks at you the way Z looks at Y/n’

‘New favourite friends to lovers.’

They were funny, sure, but untrue. At least that’s what I told myself whenever I looked at my best friend, dark hair tucked behind her ears while laughing at something Guro said, and I felt jealous. Or when I go to score a goal in training and she dives for the ball, her shirt riding up and the tight muscles of her abdomen flashing briefly, and I can feel my face heat up and my stomach tighten.

And eventually, due to popular demand, I’m back in another video, facing Sam in a ‘Meme Girls Championship’.

“Welcome to the Meme Girls Championship. Today we have the two winners of the previous games, Samantha Kerr and Y/n L/n. Are you ready?” Sam lets out a guttural scream and I simply nod, trying not to freak out about the tingle in my leg where Zecira and my legs touch.

“Here we go. When you make a tackle outside the penalty box, but the other team still get the penalty.” I flick through my cards, searching for the best one, but Sam is ready in no time.

She holds up a picture of Zecira and Ann-Katrin, standing side by side with sour looks on the faces. It’s good enough for a chuckle but I’m certain I can get a better one. I eventually land on a picture of Jessie. She’s dressed in an old training kit, hands covering her face, clearly disappointed in something.

Zecira takes a moment, looking back and forth between the two photos we’re holding up.

“Zecira. You’re in it.” Sam gives her a side eye, hinting at the fact she thinks she should win.

“Wifey Z. You know this is the better one.” The nickname had been a running joke between us for some time, so neither of us think much of it, despite the obvious fact we probably both wished it meant more.

“Mmmm, I have to go with Y/n’s.”

“No! These cards are unfair! I used that last time and you picked Jessie’s one of me breaking my shoulder!”

“Get wrecked Sammy.”

-

The comments under that video are unexpected. I don’t remember doing anything that would elicit any ‘couple’ comments, yet they were full of them.

‘I think Y/n just accidentally exposed their relationship at 1:17’

‘WIFEY? She knowwws. They’re definitely together, you don’t just call someone your wife.’

So apparently, I did imply we were a couple, but it was from a simple misunderstanding. The issue that comes with that is the inability to deny it. If you deny it, fans assume you’re hiding something, and obviously there was nothing to confirm, so we had to live with it.

Turns out it was hard to live with. Anytime either of us posted, those comments would pop up, asking us to confirm it. At games there were fans shouting it out. Even the girls began speculating whether we’d been secretly hiding a relationship for who knows how long. It was beginning to get tiring, especially when I have feelings for her.

I wanted nothing more to just go up and kiss her and tell her how much I like her, then the comments could be true, and I’d know that. Hopefully it’d also mean I’d get to hold her hand as we walk side by side and kiss her good morning every day. But I was certain she didn’t feel the same, so that was that.

~~~~~

It took a week after the video was posted for things to go back to normal within the team and between Zecira and I. Occasionally Millie or Jess would jokingly ask us ‘how the married life is’, or something along those lines, and we’d all just laugh.

It was a tradition between me and Z, that after a London derby, we’d pick a nice restaurant and go out for dinner. Both of us get dressed up and walk out of the stadium together, sign a few things and go. It started in 2021 and we hadn’t missed a dinner since. So obviously that’s what I prepared for when we had a derby coming up.

I had a new rusty orange, satin dress that I’d brought in preparation for the dinner. Hanging it on the rack in my cubby before I got changed into our warm-up kit always made me a little nervous, aware of the casual outfits that adorned everyone else’s wracks. I didn’t bother looking over at Zecira’s space, expecting her outfit to be hanging like it always was. Perhaps I should have.

-

The game was tough as always during a derby, and very physical. The likes of Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord made it difficult to stay standing if the ball was at your feet and I knew I was likely to come out with bruises from the start. I must say I didn’t expect the black eye that began swelling after an elbow to the face from Lotte.

By half time I looked a wreck, and Emma was prepared to sub me off if they didn’t let up by 60 minutes. I’d lost count of the number of bruises that had begun developing on my legs and arms, even my torso was sure to be black and blue, and admittedly my eye was somewhat hard to see out of. I was also limping, a studs up tackle from Katie landing on the inside of my right ankle making the tissue rather tender.

“You’re going to look like that blueberry girl from Willy Wonka soon.” Zecira jokes as we make our way back out to the pitch.

“Heh yeah, dinner might be a little awkward for the other people around.” I get a smile back before she makes her way to the goal, and I head to the middle of the field to meet with Erin to do some short drills again.

-

The game ends in a tie. 2-2 across the board. I gathered more injuries as the game went on but nothing that wasn’t more than superficial, and I was buzzing to sign a few things and take some pictures with the fans before heading back and dressing up for dinner with my best friend.

Then I see them. Zecira is only a few people away from me at the barrier, talking to a guy. The conversation seems very interesting and sweet, nothing more than a footballer meeting a fan. Until they kiss. So, as her best friend, I make my way over. Why had she never mentioned him?

“Hey Z! Who’s this?”

“This is Tom. We’re dating, nothing official yet. He’s going to take me out for dinner tonight.” It’s hard to be upset when you see the smile that spread across her face. Her dimples were showing and there was a sparkle in her eye. But I wasn’t one to just let someone break a tradition after 2 and a half years.

“Tonight? What, after we go to dinner? You know, at the restaurant we’ve been waiting for a table at for months?”

“N- no I mean right after I get changed.”

“We always do tonight Z.” I start to seethe through my teeth.

“Well can’t you go like tomorrow or something?” I understand Tom was trying to help. I can only assume he wasn’t aware about the years long tradition between the girl he’s dating and her best friend. But I could imagine that if we were in a cartoon, steam would be coming out of my ears and my arm would be swinging, getting ready to knock him out in one hit.

“Uhhh, no. No we cannot. Because not only does it take months to get a table, we have to go tonight because it’s tradition. Routine. We’ve never missed a derby dinner once Zecira and like damn I’m going to let us start now. Not for some guy.”

“Common it’s just one. It’s not that big a deal. I’ll make up for it I promise.”

“Make up for it? There’s no making up this dinner. But have fun with Tom. I guess I’ll go get real dressed up, eat portions that are far too small and drink much too expensive wine by myself and be thrown looks all night. See you in training.” As I storm off, I catch glimpses of the remaining crowd that is yet to trickle out and realise perhaps I should have waited.

Now embarrassed as well as angry, I run down the tunnel in desperate search for an empty room. I eventually stumble into one and slam the door closed and lock it. The walls rattle and I hear something fall off one of them, but I find it hard to care as I search for the light switch.

Once I find it, it’s hard for me to hold back all the emotions that have been building up over some time. I rip my boots of and throw them at the door with all my might. I’m surprised the window doesn’t shatter.

“Stupid fucking feelings. Stupid fucking dinner. Stupid fucking Tom. Stupid fucking game.” The list goes on for some time as I cry, broken up every now and then by a scream.

Eventually I slump to the floor in the middle of the room and sob. My chest heaves and I struggle to breathe as I cry into the ground. The bruises and black eye are long forgotten as my lungs struggle to expand, and I begin to panic.

‘This cannot be fucking happening right now no no no.’ a panic attack is the last possible thing I need and I’m in a random room all alone. No one knows where I am. Everyone could have gone home by now.

My head is pounding. Or maybe it’s someone at the door. I’m not sure. I don’t have the energy to figure it out.

‘I hope someone finds me soon’ is probably the last thought I’m aware of having. But then someone’s arms wrap around me. Their perfume is familiar, but I can’t quite place it as they hook an arm beneath my knees and another behind my back. Most of my surroundings are lost, sight blurred and hearing fuzzy as I try to draw in more air, so I don’t know where I am until I feel a mattress beneath me.

I could identify the medical room beds in my sleep, and this was definitely one. After a few minutes of just resting there, my breathing started to slow and I came around. Newly aware of a hand gripping my own, I turn to the person beside me.

“Zecira? What are you doing here? You have dinner with what’s his face.”

“You’re more important. And, what you said on the field… you’re right. I was wrong in breaking tradition for some guy I’m not even really into. It’s- it’s just…” she trails off with a sigh.

“It’s just that, I needed something to take my mind off you.”

“Off me?”

“Yes. Look, after those videos we did on media day, and the one after, I couldn’t fathom the idea of me telling you how I feel and you rejecting me. I like you so much but I know you don’t like me back so I started going on dates. Tom was the only bearable one.”

“Wait wait wait wait. You think I don’t like you? Zecira, there aren’t enough words to express how much I like you. Seeing you with Tom, it, it made me mad about the dinner sure, but I was also jealous. I want to be the one kissing you and taking you on dates, holding your hand, celebrating a win.”

“What?”

“Kiss me you fool.” The angle is poor but despite it, we lean toward each other until our lips are connected.

It becomes quite a hungry kiss, but I pull away before it can get too heated, smiling at the girl in front of me.

“If we get ready and leave now, we could still make that reservation. Make it our first date?”

-

That’s how we end up hand in hand, waiting to be seated. The satin gown hugs me perfectly and compliments Zecira’s sage green dress.

“I’m really sorry for bursting up on you. Especially on the pitch.”

“I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t. Maybe you should’ve told me in advance but it didn’t warrant that reaction.”

“I should’ve spoken to you about what was going on.”

“Kiss me and we call it even?” her hair falls around our faces as she leans down to kiss me. It’s gentle and sweet and tastes like her vanilla lip gloss. Life feels good when you’re in love with your best friend.

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #wsl #woso fanfics #chelsea fcw #zecira musovic #zecira musovic x reader #cfcw #meme girls

[skepsiss]

For Steddie prompts -- I'm always a fan of older Steve and Eddie, like them in the 90's and still pining type of nonsense

That or them as camp councilors, for Summertime for us Northern Hemispherers ♥️✨

Pining in the 90s.... hmmm, as in they're not together yet? I'm going to take this in a rather AU way, hope you like it! Ooops, it's almost 2,000 words.... but whatever. (Anyone can send me a prompt! Please do) --

Eddie hoisted his guitar up his shoulder, grunting as he picking up his duffle and staggered away from the bus. It was a mild summer day, and he was pleased he had gotten in early to camp, even if he missed getting the extra sleep.

Eddie wasn't exactly 'a morning person,' but mornings came with their perks as Eddie took in the familiar sight of Camp Callingwood. He had never frequented the camp as a kid, but he had started as a seasonal camp counsellor in the late 80s as a last-ditch effort to not be homeless for the summer. It turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life because he had met some of the best people in the world. It was 'one of those perks' and Eddie couldn't help but look around to try and catch a glimpse of the guy he was looking for.

Like a sunbeam on a cloudy day, Eddie caught sight of Steve Harrington making his way down the dirt path toward the bus drop-off. He was talking to a younger woman who was also wearing the counsellor uniform, but Eddie didn't waste time waving Steve over. It took a beat, but Steve smiled wide when he saw Eddie.

"Hey!" Steve called over before saying something quickly to the young woman and then trotting up to Eddie. "Hey, man. I wasn't sure if you'd be coming around this summer."

"Wouldn't miss it," Eddie said cheerfully, letting Steve grab his duffle bag so they could start walking toward the cabins.

"No big break yet then, huh?" Steve asked, saying a few quick hellos to the other counsellors that had just been dropped off.

"You seen my name in the tabloids?" Eddie joked, only feeling a small pinch of embarrassment over Steve's comment. He hadn't made it big despite how much he talked up his music. He knew he was good, but there wasn't always an agent who could see that in the music biz. Still, he was nearly 26 now, and without a break soon, he feared he wouldn't make it at all.

"I guess not," Steve laughed, talking easily with Eddie along the quiet forest path. "Definitely would have taken notice to seeing you. You still selling songs?"

"Yeah, doing pretty good there," Eddie admitted, shyly glancing at Steve as he tried to gauge his attitude toward all of this.

Eddie was doing well in the 'selling songs' department; he could churn out hits for anyone, but it wasn't the music he wanted to play. It sucked that metal didn't seem to be in fashion right now, but no part of him wanted to change his whole personality to fit what was 'popular.'

"Wrote one for Whitney Houston recently," Eddie proclaimed, feeling a bit proud of that sell.

"No shit?" Steve asked, sounding surprised before he bumped his shoulder into Eddie's. "Good for you, man. Cool."

Eddie smiled stupidly, liking the roughness and how boyishly charming it was. When he had first gotten to Camp Callingwood all those years ago, Steve had already been a seasoned veteran at the game. From what Eddie knew, he ran the site year-round now, and maintained the grounds during the off-season too. Eddie was only a temp, but Steve seemed so pleased to see him every year. And every year… Eddie always tentatively sussed out whether or not Steve was still single.

"Any interesting changes?" Eddie asked, glancing at Steve from under his lashes, trying to keep things casual. "No… well, I got a dog," Steve smiled, opening the door to Eddie's cabin for him. "Pepper--she's great company during the winter. It can get pretty lonely up here by yourself."

"New dog, but no lady?" Eddie joked lightly, hoping the answer was no.

"No, no lady," Steve laughed, dropping Eddie's bag on the bunk bed. "They tend not to be great company in the winter when they have to rough it--in my experience."

Eddie laughed lightly, unable to hold back the little bloom of heat in his chest. Steve really was 'one of those perks' and Eddie could hardly wait for camping season to begin so he could sign up as a counsellor again. He liked the kids, and he had fun teaching everyone how to play the guitar, or hosting the 'in-door activities' for the kids that didn't quite fit in with the others, but the real reason he kept coming back was Steve. He wished it wasn't just a temporary thing, but he chickened out asking for more every year he was here.

"Don't get too comfortable," Steve offered, swaying and leaning on the pole of the bunk bed, looking casual as could be. "We've got a lot of kids these first few weeks so I might need to move you into the big house. You don't mind dogs, right?"

The big house was Steve's permanent residence, and it was a proper home rather than the bunk rooms the counsellors and kids usually slept in.

"No--yeah, dogs are fine," Eddie said quickly, "wouldn't mind meeting Pepper though--if you're not up to anything else right now?"

"Sure, I'll see if I can find her. She's probably running around somewhere. She's a bear dog, you know? Well, not for like attacking bears or whatever, but she does a good job of keeping them away," Steve explained, motioning for Eddie to follow him.

Eddie put his guitar down on the bed and followed Steve out, not sure if he knew what Steve meant by 'bear-dog.'

Almost as soon as they got outside Steve was yelling Pepper's name and whistling as he walked toward the mess hall.

"Did you get some new tattoos?" Steve asked as they continued to walk around the camp. Other counsellors were moving about and setting things up or settling into their cabins, the site a hive of activity.

"Yeah, one on my arm and one on my thigh," Eddie said, twisting to show off his new ink. That was another thing he liked about Steve: he didn't seem bothered at all that Eddie had tattoos, even though they were still considered quite scandalous to most employers.

"One more too on my chest, but I'll save that one for later," Eddie joked lightly, pleased to be asked about his ink.

"Later for sure," Steve retorted with a smile, and Eddie blinked at him as he tried to decipher what he meant by that. Later how?

Eddie didn't get the chance to dwell on that thought though as Steve hollered Pepper's name again and Eddie watched as a large white mass bounded toward them through the trees.

"There she is," Steve said pleasantly, crouching down to greet the dog.

Pepper was a Great Pyrenees and far too big for Steve to be crouching down for.

She bounded into him and turned happily, letting Steve rough her up with pets and scratches. He was cooing and making pleasant sounds of affection at her as she wagged her tall and rubbed her head under his chin.

"She's still a puppy, only a little over one year old," Steve explained as he stood back up and Pepper turned her attention to Eddie.

"She's big," Eddie said, a little surprised by the dog's size as she bumped into his hip, looking for attention. He gave her a few good scratches, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"She's friendly--might try and sleep with you," Steve joked lightly, motioning for Pepper to sit.

She obeyed quickly and Eddie grinned as he watched her pant happily, looking for more commands.

"So this is her first summer with the kids?" Eddie asked, crouching down like Steve had before and scratching and rubbing Pepper's neck.

"Yeah, well, in this amount. We get some winter scouts and groups like that, so she has been around kids and she's great with them, but she'll probably be excited to have so many people to spoil her."

Eddie laughed, charmed by how in love Steve was with his dog. If Steve was still single, and he was pouring all of his affection in to a dog… Eddie couldn't see why shooting his shot would hurt. He had backed off every year since he met Steve, but he was feeling determined to at least confirm that Steve wasn't interested in him. They were pals, and sometimes they wrote to one another during the year, but Eddie really wasn't sure how receptive Steve was to the whole… queer thing. He did know that they'd had queer kids at camp before, and Steve had always been gentle and accepting of them, so his attitude couldn't be all negative.

"Let's go grab your keys," Steve said suddenly, and Eddie stood up to follow him. "I'll just give you a master this year, easier that way. It opens all the bunk houses and the utility rooms--and the big house. Easier than trying to sort out all the rings."

Eddie nodded, feeling a small flush creep up his cheeks. It felt rather intimate to be given a key to Steve's house, even if it technically was part of camp property.

Steve handed him the kitschy keychain and Eddie quickly added it to his own keyring.

"Don't lose it," Steve said, sounding only moderately strict. "I only have three of those. You and me are the only ones that'll have them, I don't want to hand out the spare."

"Oh," Eddie frowned, glancing up at Steve. "Are you sure you want to give it to me?"

"Yeah, I trust you, man. Plus, I don't mind you letting yourself in whenever," Steve grinned, walking over to his desk and rooting around the papers there.

Eddie pinched his brow in with confusion, not sure how to react to that. What did he mean by 'letting yourself in whenever'? It sounded so off-handed, but Eddie had no clue if he was supposed to take that seriously or… flirtatiously.

Steve had always been friendly, but this felt like it went a bit beyond friendly.

Eddie swallowed lightly, mustering the courage to speak as Steve turned back around with a clipboard in his hand.

"I could move my stuff into your place now, if you want," Eddie asked, idly picking his nail polish. "Easier than having to do it later. Just… make it my spot for the summer."

It was Steve's turn to stare as they stood there quietly for a beat, before Steve seemed to shake himself from his astonishment.

"Yeah! For sure---that's cool, let's do that," Steve agreed quickly, smiling again but not making a move toward the door.

"You want to show me the room I'll be staying in?" Eddie asked, feeling his confidence grow a bit.

"Yes--yeah," Steve waffled, sounding pleased but a bit surprised for some reason. "Follow me."

Eddie chewed his lip lightly and looped his arms behind his back as he followed Steve out of the cabin. He wasn't certain, but Steve had seemed sort of… flustered by the prospect of them actually sharing a living space. The idea of that encouraged Eddie, and he grinned privately to himself as he thought about retiring for the evening with Steve in his little cabin in the woods. It felt… romantic and it really did set Eddie up to succeed.

Eddie was going to make this summer the summer he asked Steve on a date. He wasn't going to chicken out again.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #mini ask fics

[starrylothcat]

Pairing: Echo x Reader

Summary: Echo knows you are alone on Life Day Eve and wants to spend the holiday with you.

Warnings: Light angst/meloncholy related to the holidays, kissing/making out, slight allusion to sexy times but not described and nothing explicit. Fluffy and happy ending. 🎄

WC: 2676

A/N: This is a gift for @cc--2224 as part of the Life Day Fic Exchange hosted by @cloneficgiftexchange !

I played with ideas from the prompt: Having no one to spend the holidays with and being invited out/over to spend it with [x clone].

❄️ Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy @cc--2224 ! ❄️

The sun was setting, and delicate rays of light poured into the streets from residences up and down every street on Pabu.

Life Day lights began twinkling on above doors and around windows as the sun sunk beyond the horizon.

Laughter and melodic tunes floated in the air, along with mouth-watering aromas from holiday feasts being set out on tables for friends and family to enjoy.

Echo stood outside your small Pabu cafe, trying to steady his nerves. He was clutching a bottle of rare Tevraki whiskey in his hand, something he had been saving for some time.

Your neon “Open” sign was switched off and the cafe was dark, though a string of Life Day lights flickered above your storefront sign.

You lived in a small apartment in the back of the cafe, and Echo could see a dim light illuminating your living room window.

It was Life Day Eve, and Echo knew you were alone.

Echo had been frequenting your cafe for a while now, making a point to come in the early mornings when your delectable baked goods were fresh out of the nanowave oven.

The more he got to know you, sipping caf and sharing stories and smiles, the more he realized he was catching feelings.

It started small, at first. Little fleeting flutters of his heart when he entered your cafe, knowing you’d be behind the counter. His face warming when you’d laugh, a wonderful medolic laugh that made those flutters in his chest beat like a porg’s wings trying its damdest to fly.

When he was away on missions with Rex, he thought more and more of you, truly missing you and how he felt when he was in your presence.

He felt…safe. Comfortable. At ease. Emotions he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

You were kind and generous to everyone who entered your cafe and went out of your way to help the people of Pabu. You often hand-delivered bespoke baked goods to new arrivals to make them feel at home.

Echo admired your kind heart, quiet strength, and warm demeanor. It took him time to fully realize what he was feeling, but let it happen. Echo had been thinking more and more of his future, especially now that he was in control of his destiny for the first time in his life.

He had much taken from him, his very soul used against his will. He was given a second chance, and he was not going to waste it.

So when Echo discovered you were spending the holiday by yourself, he knew he couldn’t let you be alone, not tonight.

You cared so much about Life Day, just the day before describing your fond memories of celebrating with your family as a child. You were a refugee like most Pabu residents, and you’ve been unable to see your family for many years due to the war.

Echo picked up the melancholy in your voice and how your body language changed when you spoke of your memories, a heavy weight anchoring you down knowing it was another Life Day without them.

Echo had his brothers and Omega. He was incredibly lucky to have a support structure, even after all he had been through.

The thought of you having no one to celebrate with didn’t sit right with him, so he decided to surprise you with a bottle of whiskey he purchased some time ago, a drink he used to share with Fives on this very holiday.

Echo found himself with a similar weight in his chest this cycle, thinking of Fives. Life Day was Five’s favorite holiday, and Echo had many memories of him and Fives savoring this drink on this nat-born holiday, cheering their brothers, and speaking of their hopes for the future.

Echo couldn’t think of anyone else he’d want to share this drink with tonight. Not even his own brothers. But you.

Now Echo stood in front of your door, hesitating for a moment, hoping he wasn’t coming on too strongly.

Echo never had time for relationships and was currently flying by the seat of his pants, but wasn’t dumb.

Echo has noticed how your expression softens when you look at him, or how your hand always brushes against his every time he hands you credits for his caf, touching his hand just long enough to be noticeable.

He was here as a friend, as much as he wanted to be more than friends. He wanted to kiss you, hold you, and let you know just how much you meant to him.

Echo wanted to respect your boundaries, though, and if you just wanted to be friends, he would continue to stand by your side as that and nothing more.

Echo took a breath and walked to the back of your cafe, up to your front door that was adorned with a Life Day wreath.

He tapped on your front door with his scomp.

It was now or never.

He waited a moment, hearing quiet music playing and some shuffling.

“Hello?” Your voice called from behind your door.

“It’s Echo.”

Your door clicked open, revealing your face, warm light spilling out, illuminating Echo who stood before you.

You were wearing your apron, the one you always adorned in the storefront, and Echo could immediately smell something sweet drifting from your kitchen.

“Echo!” Your face lit up. “What are you doing here?” You looked surprised, glancing at the whiskey in his hand.

“Thought you could use some company tonight.” Echo held it up, trying his best to act casual.

Your lips parted in a delicate oh, a blush warming your cheeks as you took in the man you are seriously crushing on standing in your doorway.

“Echo…you didn’t have to…I’m sure you have plans with your brothers…?”

Echo shook his head. “I want to be here, with you. You shouldn't have to spend the holiday alone.”

A genuine smile graced your features and Echo felt the tension in his shoulders dissipate.

You stepped to the side, gesturing inside. “Please, come in!

Echo stepped inside your small home. It was cozy, with a few dim lamps casting a pleasing glow throughout your living space. A Life Day tree was tucked in the corner of your living room and sparkling lights lined the ceiling, adding a magical feel to the space.

Your dining room table had racks of tooka-shaped cookies cooling, the culprit of the delicious smell.

“Sorry for the mess.” You walked to your kitchen, opening a cabinet to grab glasses. “I wasn’t expecting company…” You laughed, reaching with your tiptoes into the cupboard.

“No need to apologize. I’m the one intruding.” Echo stood near the table, placing the whiskey bottle down where there was space.

You walked back over to him, holding the glasses.

“No, not at all, Echo. I’m…really glad you’re here.”

You smiled your beautiful smile that Echo replayed endlessly in his head, making his heart do flips in his chest.

“Hope you like whiskey.” Echo said, “I used to drink this with my brother on Life Day. We’d save up credits for months to get a bottle.”

You scooted a rack of cookies out of the way, placing the glasses on the table.

“I’m honored you’re sharing it with me.” You untied your apron, draping it over a nearby chair.

“And yes, I do like whiskey, so you will have to share.” Your eyes held a mirthful glow, the Life Day lights hanging above mirrored in your irises.

Echo’s heart was thumping as he poured you each a glass of the amber liquid.

You gestured toward your couch. “Shall we?”

Echo sat next to you on your couch, sinking into the comfortable cushions as you settled near him. The couch was small, leaving little room between you.

You cradled your glass of whiskey, the lights from your tree reflecting off the crystaline glasses. A comfortable silence spreading between the two of you, only interrupted by the music playing from your radio.

Echo looked so handsome in the glow of your lights. His jaw was set, strong, and stubbled. His skin had gained some color back from the Pabu sun, and you could see his muscular shoulders tight against the civilian clothes he was wearing.

You have known Echo for some time now, ever since he and his brothers first came to the tropical planet. He stopped by your cafe every morning he could for caf and a spice cake. You learned some of his story before Pabu, but not all. You knew how he got his cybernetics, a story he told you early one morning in your shop.

Your heart broke for him but admired his resilience and ever-present strength. It’s one of the many reasons why you have fallen for him.

“Thank you, Echo.” Your eyes met his brown ones, butterflies coming to life in your stomach.

“I didn’t mean to give you my whole sob story yesterday…I usually keep myself busy on Life Day, as you can see.” You motioned behind you to all the cookies.

Echo shook his head. “Don’t apologize. The holiday can be hard on everyone, especially now. I’ve been thinking more of my brother, and it hurts knowing he can’t be here. You’re not alone in this.”

He lifted his glass of whiskey toward you.

“Cheers.” He said, clinking his glass against yours. “To friends and family.”

“Cheers.” You replied, “To friends and family.”

You both sipped the sweet alcohol, enjoying the warmth in your chest it provided as you swallowed.

“You and your brother had good taste.” You smiled behind your glass, taking another small sip, savoring the drink.

Echo chuckled.

“Glad you think so.”

You watched something flash across Echo’s eyes.

Echo had told you a little about Fives in passing, but not much.

“I’m sure he’d be happy that you are continuing your tradition.”

Echo nodded, a small, sentimental smile pulling at his lips.

“Yeah…he was a good man. One of the best I’ve ever known.”

“Tell me about him,” you started. “Only if you want, though.”

Echo knew Fives would be happy for him, and while he desperately wished he could be here, talking about him lifted the stone off his chest that had settled ever since he saw this whiskey.

He told you of the first time they bought this drink, and almost getting caught with it in their bunk when they were cadets.

The night went on, trading stories of the past, you talking of your family and Life Day traditions, and Echo speaking of his brothers, reminiscing on the trouble he and Fives used to get up to.

There was a newfound intimacy between the two of you, for once not just talking in your cafe. Echo had never felt closer to you than now, watching how your features glowed under the lights, talking of fond memories and the current goings on in Pabu.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you ended up sitting close enough to Echo that your legs were almost touching.

Your conversation lulled, and Echo glanced at your chrono, seeing how late it was, well past midnight.

Time always went by so quickly with you. That peaceful serenity that he only felt with you had overtaken him, not wanting it to end.

“I didn’t mean to keep you this late.” He spoke softly. “I should go.”

Without thinking, your hand shot to his knee, feeling the hard metal underneath his clothing.

“You don’t have to go, not yet.” You said quickly.

You didn’t want him to leave. Your gaze met his, your hand still on his cybernetic knee.

Echo’s honeyed eyes swam with emotion, feeling your hand on his knee slide up toward his thigh, where his skin began.

Echo, spurred on by your touch and maybe a little bit of the whiskey, laid his hand atop yours. The gentleness of your hand contrasted with his larger, calloused palm.

Your eyes darted to where your hands met, and back to his.

Echo whispered your name so quietly you almost missed it over the thrumming of your own heart.

“Thank you for being here tonight.” You took a breath.

“I know we both have people we are missing right now…it’s usually a difficult time for me, but this is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”

Your voice was quiet too, enjoying the weight of his hand atop yours.

“You…mean a lot to me, Echo.”

Echo’s eyes widened slightly, heat rushing up his neck, hoping he was hearing you correctly.

“You mean a lot to me, too.” Echo’s hand lightly squeezed yours, your confessions hanging around you as excitement flooded your systems, realizing you both felt the same.

The air was suddenly thick, a magnetic pull tugging at both of you toward one another.

You were so close now, his nose brushing against yours as you both tentatively leaned in, your lips just centimeters away as you slowly closed the distance.

Finally, your lips touched, soft and chaste, his scomp lifting to gently trace down your arm as his lips captured yours.

Echo felt as if sparks were going off in his entire body, your lips sweeter than he imagined. He never wanted to let go of this moment.

It was pure bliss to kiss you, Echo’s mind solely focusing on you, how you felt, the way your breath hitched when he brought his hand to cup your face, gently caressing his thumb under your eye.

You pulled away, already missing his spicy musk and surprisingly plush lips.

“This is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time, too.” Echo traced his knuckle down your cheek. “And it’s because of you. It’s always because of you.”

You leaned in again, overwhelmed by emotion, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him into a more passionate and fervent kiss.

Everything that had been building between the two of you didn’t need to be spoken, the way your mouths danced and hands roamed one another’s bodies spoke for itself.

You sighed into his mouth as he shyly slid his tongue across your lower lip, politely asking for more.

His hand cradled the back of your head, entangling in your hair as your kiss deepened.

Emboldened, Echo broke the steamy kiss and traced his mouth down your jawline, placing hot kisses slowly down your neck.

The quiet whimpers that left your swollen lips ignited his body with passion, hoping he hadn’t fallen asleep on your couch and this was just a dream.

Echo lavished your skin, making his way back up to your lips for another profoundly devoted kiss.

When you both finally pulled away to catch your breaths, your lips were shiny with saliva, and your bodies flushed.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as Echo held you against his strong body.

“Do you still want to go?” You asked.

Echo shook his head.

“I think you convinced me to stay.”

He brushed his lips against yours, slowly leaning you back on the couch, until you were laying down and he was above you.

You looked up at him through hooded eyelids as he took in your form beneath him, your soft body pliable against his.

“Can’t let you wake up alone on Life Day, either.” Echo’s voice was deliciously deeper than usual as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss right under your ear, causing you to shudder in delight.

Echo waited for your answer, not wanting to take things further than you wanted.

“No, you can’t.” You replied, pulling him down flush against you, your lips meeting again, your bodies entwining.

When you awoke the next morning in one another’s arms, for the first Life Day in a long time, you both felt indescribable happiness.

As you drifted off the night before, speaking softly to one another in the afterglow of your ignited feelings for one another, Echo was afraid when he woke up, that peace he felt only with you would be gone. Or that maybe you’d only wanted that one night with him, and nothing more.

The feeling was still there, even stronger than before. His fears dissipated when you left feather-light kisses across his chest, asking if he’d like to stay for breakfast and help decorate some of the cookies you had made last night.

Echo wholeheartedly agreed, inviting you to the dinner Hunter was hosting that evening with Omega and the rest of his brothers.

The heaviness that had settled over both of you leading up to the holiday had lifted away, replaced with glimmering elation and harmony that only you could give one another, knowing you would never have to be alone on Life Day ever again.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ⋆ Comments & Reblogs Appreciated! ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡

Dividers by @saradika

#echo x reader #echo tbb #arc trooper echo #the clone wars #the bad batch #life day #star wars fanfiction #clone fic gift exchange #echo tbb x reader #tbb echo x reader #clone trooper echo #clone x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader #starrycatwrites #clone trooper echo x reader #echo fanfiction #x reader #echo x you #lde23 #echo tbb x you

[pebbleswritessometimes]

Hello!! ☺️

I saw your post for Larissa prompts. Well, we're getting near Valentines Day and I'd like to request a holiday fanfic. In a staff outing Larissa finds out that Reader never received a Valentine's card for whatever reason (maybe no one ever gave them one or for cultural reasons, in Brazil for example, only established couples exchange cards). So Valentine's Day arrives and Reader starts receiving many cards from students and from the staff (platonic love), she ends up finding out that Larissa gave the idea for everyone and wanted Reader to feel loved. Maybe she even ends up asking Reader for an actual date? (Super corny but it is what it is 🤣)

Valentine’s

Sorry this is so late, not proof read <3 words: 943

“You’ve never been given a Valentines card? You’re joking!” Larissa had responded in disbelief, alongside your coworkers. You couldn’t help but chuckle at their reactions,” Pffft, no! It just wasn’t something that we did, unfortunately. If you weren’t in a romantic relationship, then you didn’t get things like valentines cards, or those cute little bears.”

Someone could’ve assumed that you had just insulted each of their mothers individually, with the way they stared at you, mouth agape. “Close your mouths, we’ll all have to be back at the school soon. Finish your food,” you laughed, shaking your head, and each began to shovel their meals in, in an attempt to complete them before you had to drive back to Nevermore.

“Alright, Class!” smacking your pages upon the desk in an attempt to get them to line up, “I’m proud of you all for doing your best on your tests this week. I figured maybe you’d all enjoy an early dismissal.”

Smiles spread from one side of the room to the other, each student offering a “Thank you,” and giving their praises to you as a teacher. You propped open the classroom door, prepared to greet each student on their way out. Glancing over in their direction, they were all hovering with small colored envelopes held in their hands. Curious, you inquired, “Are you all alright? What…what’s this?” extending your hand towards the pink sheet of paper that your eldest student had pushed out in your direction.

Flipping over the card and tilting your head, you gently dragged your fingertips across the letters. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Y/N!” Followed by words of the students admiration for their favorite teacher. You. Each of your students had signed and left their own little note on their envelopes. Trying your best to not make the tears welling in your eyes noticeable, “Why, thank you. You’re all so sweet!”

Collecting another card each time a student left the classroom.

Taking the stack of cards to your desk, you sat and carefully read each one. Chuckling at each silly joke, sniffling at the heartfelt words, and growing ever so grateful for your home at Nevermore. You carefully placed them all in your bag and set off to join your coworkers for lunch, you couldn’t wait to show them your very first valentines cards. How truly lucky you felt.

“Miss! Woah-“ you spun around to see who was calling for you, catching Enid on her way towards the floor. “Oh goodness, where’s the fire, Miss Sinclair?” helping her stand up straight, she straightened out her uniform and grinned. “Sorry! I was just so excited to run into you in the hall so I could give you- oh wait where’s..” patting around her blazer in search of something. “Oh, no no no. I’m sorry, Miss Y/N. I must’ve left my card for you back in my dorm. I-“

“Here.” There’s that unmistakable monotone voice of the lovely, Miss Addams.

“Oh, Wednesday! Thank you thank you!!” Buzzing with excitement, Enid handed you the rainbow envelope. You were about to thank her, before you noticed that Miss Addams was also shoving an envelope in your direction. Matching her signature black attire, it was adorned with a wax seal. “You too, Wednesday? Goodness. What did I do to get so lucky to have students like you all,” you opened your cards and listened to Enids bubbly chatter. “Well, when Principal Weems had mentioned her idea of everyone chipping in to give you your first real Valentine’s Day we all-“

“Weems? She put you all up to this?” You instantly felt the butterflies that fluttered in your tummy and prickled your cheeks pink.

Thanking the girls for their cards, you practically ran to Larissa’s office.

Without knocking on the door, you waltzed into the office. You smirked, “Principal Weems? The craziest thing happened today,” leaning over the edge of her desk, pulling out the cards from your bag.

“Oh? And what’s that, Miss Y/N?”

Handing her the envelopes, you went over how each student and colleague had gifted you your very first valentines cards. Searching for something within her gaze, “Any clue on how they might have gotten the idea?”

Fiddling with her fingers, Larissa had bashfully confessed, “Well, I- you’ve just been such a lovely addition to our family here at Nevermore and to know that you’ve never received a valentines card? Oh, we simply couldn’t have that, now could we?”

Smiling as thanks and grabbing your things to go, you laughed and headed for the door.

“Oh, Miss Y/N! I nearly forgot. Here, I got one for you as well,” Larissa spoke with a smile. Yet, her voice seemed a little shaky. “Larissa! You didn’t have to, really, you’re so sweet- you…” blinking a few times, trying to make sure you were reading her beautiful handwriting correctly. Looking up at her through furrowed brows, you wouldn’t have been able to stop the smile that grew on your face if you had tried. “Are you asking me out on a date, Principal?”

“I- I understand if you would rather not, you’re my employee after all, but…but you know-“

“I’d love to, Larissa,” cutting her anxious rant short. You bit your lip and stood upon your tippy toes, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Watching her fumble her words and blush like crazy was the simply a joy to witness. You danced out of the room and leaned against the hall wall, clutching the card from Larissa to your chest. You’ve been pinning over this woman since you started working here, God.. how worth the wait it was.

#oh god this is probably no good I haven’t written in so long #gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems #wednesday weems #larissa x reader #weems #pebbles is sorry for quality #weems imagine #wednesday 2022

[starry-night-author]

Hi!! how would you feel about continuing prompt 15? both parts were sooo cute and i absolutely need to know what villain thinks so bad. love your writing, and take your time of course :)

YEAAAAAAAHHHHHH more of them <3

Prompt #15 (Pt.3)

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Villain swallowed as they slipped into the little room where they'd been meeting up with Hero for the last few weeks.

They looked around, taking it all in.

The little bed, the window with its curtains that would always lift gently in the early morning breeze. The bedside table, where they would set up Hero's watch to project a movie onto the wall. The creaky floor, the peeling paint.

The bed was messy, and after only a moment's hesitation, Villain crossed to it to properly make it. Tucking the sheets in, plumping the pillows, folding back the comforter just a little at the top, they spared no expense.

Then they stood back, and took a deep breath.

It took them a moment to realize they were shaking.

With another deep breath, they slid their hand into their pocket, pulling out a plain white envelope. They stared at it for a moment, trying to convince themself to do it. That this was really happening, and this was what they had to do about it.

Fingers trembling, they reached out and set it on one of the pillows, on the side Hero always slept on.

Then they took a quick step back, as if the thought of being too close to the envelope for a moment longer terrified them.

They had to do this.

It was for their own good, both theirs and Hero's.

Cutting things off was the only good option they had here.

Because Hero loved Villain. Hero loved Villain.

Their whispered words in the dark had told them, and their gentle and considerate body language around Villain only confirmed it.

And Villain had to admit to themself, a part of them loved Hero back.

But they couldn't be together. Hero had said from the beginning they couldn't catch feelings, because that wouldn't just jeopardize their job, but their entire life. The agency forbad any kind of close relationship with a Villain, and they would strike with wrath if they found out about this.

Which was why it'd just been a small thing, a little fling while the two were feeling lonely.

It wasn't supposed to snowball into... this.

Hero, bless their heart, was clearly too lovestruck to see how terrible this was, how awful it would be if the agency found out. They couldn't see that if this progressed, things would only get worse for the both of them, but for Hero especially.

So that left Villain to do the right thing and end it now. Before they themself got too attached, and before something bad happened to Hero.

This was the only good option they had.

Villain had the hardest time trying to convince themself to cut things off. They'd spent the last week debating, talking to Hero as if they didn't know they loved them. Feigning ignorance just so they could let themself get a few last days with Hero. It probably wasn't good for them, that strange kind of longing, but they needed to be around them one last time.

Despite being their enemy, here in this room Hero always felt safe. They were always comforting, always kind, always listening to what Villain needed. They were a person to talk to, and Villain barely had any of those. They were someone to spend time with, and Villain hadn't realized how lonely they were until they found themself missing Hero during the time between their meetups.

They'd have to suck it up and go back to feeling lonely now.

The letter was their explanation, their closure, their goodbye. Villain needed to do this.

For the both of them.

Part of them wanted to leap forward and tear the letter to shreds, forget this whole silly idea and lay down and wait for Hero to come. With Hero everything would be easier, they could forget about this for a minute, leave it all behind.

But that doomed them to even more hurt in the future.

With one last shuddering breath- they would not cry, they would not cry- Villain looked around the room one last time, and slipped out as quietly as they'd come.

#slapping you in the face with ANGST #thanks for the ask! #anon ask #hero x villain #villain x hero #villain #hero #writing #prompt #writing prompt #hero x villain community #heroes and villains #starry-night-author

[sawyerconfort]

Jess McCready cuddle fluff imagine pls

HEY!

Sorry, it took me a while to post this.

Anyway, I hope you like it. I'm slowly coming back with imagines from other fandoms and, as I'm missing aloto these days (I'm still not over it), I thought I needed to post one.

Enjoy!

Please be patient with the asks, it takes me a while, but I'll do it!

---------------

Grumpy Kid | Jess McCready x Fem!Reader

PROMPT: When you date someone who apparently doesn't like physical touch and you're secretly crazy about spooning.

***

It was raining. And you were accompanying your newest girlfriend's baseball team on a trip out of the state they usually stayed in.

It was common that early in the morning, before the game, the Rockford Peaches would go out to practice a little, and you would follow Jess there too, from the stands. But you had met the bad weather, and that was common as well.

Now, without practice or games, the girls tried to have fun the way they liked best. Some had gotten involved in a game of chess, others were drinking and smoking, some were sleeping peacefully. You and Jess were just relaxing, in the room she shared with Greta, her forcefully cutting her nails while you were in bed, feet up.

"You're going to come to bed, aren't you?"

Jess looked at you. "All I'm missing is my big toe. And then I'll go, yes."

You smiled, knowing she was serious. But of course, your girlfriend's stay in bed came with a price: no spooning.

Jess wasn't fond of physical touch, and that was clear from the moment you met, in a gay bar at the game the girls played in your state. She tried really hard to ask you to dance with her and was a little afraid when you rested your face on her chest in the middle of the slow song.

It kind of confused you at first, but now, it was a matter of habit, more than anything.

As she had said before, she finished doing her toe nails and threw herself on the bed, surprisingly opening her arms and looking at you as if to say: "come to my hug", which was unheard of.

"Don't get used to it, just so you have something better to lie on than those hard, horrible pillows, God..."

You smiled and nodded, hugging her and laying your head on her chest. Jess didn't hug you or anything, just kept her arms up, sighing.

"I wish we could practice, this is so unfair," she complained, sighing again. You looked at her with a frown.

"Unless you want to catch a cold, of course, I agree."

Jess looked back at you and chuckled. "Then you would take care of me," she laughed again. "Oh come on, (Y/N), don't make that face."

You raised your arms in surrender and she laughed. Then, she dodged when you tried to touch her chest, caressing her.

"Jess..."

"We've already talked about this, love."

"But the weather is perfect for cuddling...", you pouted and she laughed. "Please..."

Jess rolled her eyes playfully and continued with her arms up, not making a point of hugging you. Until you threw yourself at her and surprised her, in a good way.

"(Y/N), what the actual fuck?", she whispered, not in an angry way, just confused, her way.

"Okay, my bad. I was just trying", you explained, now feeling guilty. Jess looked at you with teary eyes and a frown, then grabbed your chin with her pincer finger and lifted it.

Her little eyes... Jess McCready was definitely tough and a lot stronger than she even looked, but she was just as affectionate when she was with you, especially.

"It's okay, baby, I know," she whispered. "I'm the one who owes you an apology. I was too rude this time, sorry."

"No, love... You were just being you."

You laughed and pressed your nose against hers, which she allowed, without fear, without backing down this time. Jess pulled you closer, holding you by the waist, and then rested her chin on the top of your head.

"I think I'm starting to like the idea of ​​spooning in the rain. You’re very comfortable, (Y/N).”

"You think?"

Jess nodded, and the minutes-long kiss she gave you afterwards was breathtaking.

"My comfy girl..." she whispered, laughing. "But please, just don't tell the girls that we're spooning, okay?"

“Okay, grumpy kid,” you teased back, laughing. "Okay, that would be a good name for a superhero, hmm?"

Jess rolled her eyes, but didn't let go of you, not even with the bad jokes you made for the rest of the time you were there, until the rain stopped for good.

#lgbt #romance #oneshot #imagine #fluff #aloto x reader #aloto #a league of their own x reader #a league of their own #jess mccready #jess mccready x reader #she's too cute i wanna kiss all over her face #ok next one is a prompt from heathers should be out soon also don't worry

[stardustedsins]

Kiss Prompts #27. A kiss as a suggestion

Hol Horse/reader (gender neutral reader)

You eat while you walk, eyeing each stall with their flashing lights and brightly colored banners. You’re almost done with your cotton candy, and then you’ll have both hands free for games. You and Hol are spending the day at an amusement park, and you’re enjoying all the rides, treats, and carnival games you possibly can.

“Want a bite before I finish it?” You ask, offering it to Hol.

“No way. I already ate too much.” He says, referring to the giant funnel cake he’d insisted on finishing after you’d just had corndogs and soft pretzels.

“Suit yourself.” You eat the last few bites and toss the paper cone in the next trash can you pass by. “Now let’s play some games!”

You throw rings at milk bottles, and rubber balls at little wooden cutouts of clowns. Hol tries a guessing game, but doesn’t get the number of marbles in the jar right. You race each other with rubber ducks, blasting them with water cannons to push them along their little channels to the goal (you win). You don’t do well enough at any one game to get a big prize.

But that will have to change, because you’ve just spotted the best top tier prize in the whole place, and you have to have it.

“Over here!” You grab his hand and pull him along after you to see what game is offering that prize. It’s a simple-looking target shooting game, the kind with some stationery targets and some moving ones.

You put your money on the counter for one play, and the attendant hands you the toy rifle. You don’t think you’re a bad shot, but every target you hit stays stubbornly standing instead of falling back.

“You gotta hit ‘em dead center.” The attendant tells you. “Want to try again?”

“Yeah.” You decide, paying for a second try. You’re able to mail a few stationary targets, but you’re not quite accurate enough to knock down enough of the moving ones to get your prize.

“I was so close!” You grumble, fishing out the money for a third round, but Hol stops you.

“Don’t spend all your money on one game, it’s still early.”

“I want that.” You point out your goal prize. “I can try at least one more time. Unless you think you can do better?”

You’re only teasing, you know he can do much better.

“In my sleep, honey.”

“Then why don’t you win it for me?”

“Hmm…” He makes a show of thinking about it. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll make it worth your time.” You promise, standing on your toes to give him a kiss on the lips, followed by a wink. You’re in public, and the attendant can hear every word you say, so you won’t share just how you plan to reward him, but it’s clear he gets the idea.

He puts down the money to play, but you catch him before he takes the gun.

“No Emperor. Play fair.” You murmur so the game attendant won’t hear you. You know he could easily win several of these games with his stand, even the ones like this that are made to be difficult, but where’s the fun in that?

“If you insist.” He says, picking up the gun and raising it to aim.

He nails nearly every target, close enough to the center to knock them down, even the moving ones, only missing two. It’s enough for your prize, but he still looks a little annoyed by those two still standing.

“Congratulations, and here you are.” The game attendant hands the prize directly to you.

“Now what about my prize?” Hol asks as you walk away from the stall.

“You’ll have to wait. Like you said, it’s still early. I want to see the rest of the games.” You tuck your prize under your arm and head for the next stall. Hol grumbles a little, but he follows you anyway. He’ll get his reward when you get home tonight.

#I hope the formatting doesn’t get messed up bc I’m posting from mobile! #sfw #gender neutral reader #my writing #kiss prompts #stardust crusaders #hol horse

[bullet-prooflove]

Hi 👋🏻 Okay, here is a prompt for Vostanik Sabatino 😎 #7 “Now she’s stronger than you know A heart of steel starts to grow” from the ‘Thursday Radio Show Prompt List! - Short But Sweet!’. Thank you so much.

References to upcoming chapters in the StolenMoments! Series

You don’t see Sabatino for four months after Afghanistan, it isn’t until he turns up on one of your cases that you even realise he’s back in the country. When he steps into the boat shed and your eyes meet, it’s like the entire world falls away and you’re taken back to the last time the two of you were together, tangled up on the floor of your bunk room.

There’s barely any time to talk. The case moves quickly. There’s other people around and you’re both out of the door chasing down different leads.

When he catches up with you again, it’s the early hours of the morning and you’re standing on the wooden decking outside of the boathouse, leaning on the railing that lines it. The moon’s high tonight and you’re staring out across the dark water, listening to the sound of the waves as they crash against the stilts. He can taste the salt in the air when he steps outside to join you. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his quilted jacket as he comes to stand alongside of you, his gaze fixed on the shimmer of the moon in the distance.

“Pashto was a nice touch.” He remarks, referring to the letter you’d tucked into his backpack back in Afghanistan.

The edges of your mouth tip up into a smile.

“I had a good teacher.” You remind him and he thinks about those nights, curled up on the couch in the command centre as he helped you relearn the language.

“I meant what I said.” He tells you. “In the back of the chopper.”

“Yes sirum yem k’ez,” he had whispered to you, his hand gripping yours as the blood pulsed out of his chest. You hadn’t understood the words, not at the time. It wasn’t until Sam translated them from Armenian that you realised what he was trying to say.

I love you.

He leans on the railing beside you, his elbow nudging lightly against yours.

“I meant it too.” You say quietly tilting your head towards him.

It’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you properly all day and he finds himself studying your features searching for signs of what you’d endured over there. There’s a slender white scar close to your hairline, one that he knows came from the butt of a gun.

“I wanted to be here after…” He trails off because deep down he’s ashamed about that, that he disappeared from your life when you needed him the most.

“I have a feeling that wherever you were it was with great reluctance.” You tell him as your fingers thread through his, your thumb chases over the curve of his hand and he exhales because until this moment he hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed your touch.

“Germany.” He says quietly. “The healing process took a lot more time than expected and the CIA don’t like leaving their operatives vulnerable.”

There’s a bitterness in his tone and you can read between the lines, he’d been an unwilling patient.

“I don’t know how this works.” You say softly, your eyes raising up to meet his. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in his proximity, how he makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world when he looks at you. “We never talked about what would happen when we left Afghanistan.”

“No.” He whispers as his lips brush over yours. “Maybe we should.”

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@kmc1989

#nik sabatino #nik sabatino x reader #nik sabatino x you #sabatino #sabatino x reader #sabatino x you #ncis los angeles #vostanik sabatino x reader #vostanik sabatino x you #ncis la #vostanik sabatino

[blissfulparker]

[ PROPOSITION ]  one or both muse(s) are having trouble sleeping so they have sex to pass the time.

for tom? or whoever if you feel comfy doing smut/suggestiveness!

Stay the night prompts

In the early days of July, the London air was never fun. Summer nights consisted of open windows and lighter sheets but that was not enough for Tom tonight.

From tossing and turning, Tom grew envious of the way you curled up and slept peacefully. He had tried blankets to no blankets, he had tried water to tea to even listening to one of those meditation podcasts you always say put you to sleep. Nothing worked. He stared at the ceiling as if it was all he had left, occasionally glancing over to you to see if you had woken. It was selfish of him to wish you were awake but he missed you and needed a way to put himself to sleep.

“Tom?” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your eyes, slowly waking to the sight of your boyfriend shirtless sitting up in bed. “What’s wrong? A nightmare?” Your hand rests on his chest trying to feel his heartbeat.

“No darling,” he sighs looking down at you as if you are the prettiest thing on earth since to him, you are. “Go back to sleep.” He hums and you move so you sit up next to him.

“What is it then?” Now curious, he knows you won’t leave him be or go back to sleep until you have an answer and solution.

“Can’t sleep ‘tis all.” He lets his hands intertwine with yours as your head falls against his chest.

“Oh.” Was all you said, he waits before he says anything knowing you always have a list of solutions for everything even though he’s already gone through all the ways he could sleep. “Have you tried tea?” You wondered.

“Yup.” He nods and you let your fingers draw traces over his bare stomach.

“Reading?”

“Yup.”

“Stretching.”

“Yup.”

“Okay, how about a podcast?” Thinking you’ve got him he lets his head fall back against the headboard.

“Yes, I even tried one that talked about the history of the Hoover dam thinking I could bore myself to sleep but it was actually quite interesting.” He tells you which gives you a slight laugh.

“Didn’t even know there was a thing.” You hum thinking some more. The clock read 4:45, you had no idea how long he had been awake thrashing himself around trying to sleep but all you knew was that he had worked for six months straight and needed this sleep.

“Hmm,” you let your fingers fall down to his sweat-shorts. “Have you tried this?” You let your fingers slip in between the band and gently feel the tip of him.

“N-No.” he hummed as you let your fingers wrap around him gently.

“Do you want to try this?” You look up seeing his eyes gently flutter shut and his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.

With a nod, you allow yourself to move faster. Your hand wraps fully around him as you move up and down, placing soft kisses along his chest and up his neck. Too tired yourself to go down on, he understands as his hands grip the sheets and he arches his hips upward.

“D-Don’t stop.” He whines as he tries to match a pace with yours but the two of you grow more tired as he comes close.

With a few more lazy pumps and his hips barely keeping pace anymore, you feel his release in your hands and slowly pull away from him.

As he catches his breath and finally finds his energy cooling down, you manage to slip away and wash up before joining him back in bed.

“Do you need me to…” he offers letting his hands wander down your sides and you shake your head.

“You can return the favor in the morning.” You tell him and he huffs wishing you two could go all night—or at least all morning—but he needed sleep and you had work so there was no late nights between you two.

With his arm wrapping around your waist, he brings his face to the back of your neck inhaling the soft scent of your shampoo before finding himself drifting to sleep. In the morning, he knows he will make enough time to return the favor but for now you will only see each other in one another’s dreams.

#kats blurbs #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland smut #tom holland fluff #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland au #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland fan fic #imagine Tom Holland

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hello,congrats on 800 followers btw,to another era of simping after all-btw for the event may I request the “It’s three in the morning” with Kuki Shinobu Bcs reader’s sleep schedule is non-existent so they randomly wake up in the middle of the night to do things but that day they didn’t realise Kuki awoke to them sneaking out of bed-hope I wasn’t too complex and take care!!

“It’s three in the morning”

Characters: Kuki Shinobu x gn!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: I originally wanted to write a different prompt today, but since today’s Shinobu’s birthday, something that I wasn’t aware of, I decided to make this a bit birthday-y.

Anyway, thanks for the congratulations and I hope you enjoy!

Kuki Shinobu

Most people would get thrilled about their birthday approaching, but Shinobu couldn’t exactly say the same thing about herself. She once had made the mistake of telling the rest of the Arataki-Gang about the date for her birthday, and while she wasn’t a huge fan of them before, having to bail these idiots out every year because they thought it would be a great idea to throw a big, spontaneous, celebration, without telling any of the authorities, causing them to get to live through the sobering experience of spending a few hours behind bars, definitely didn’t help to fuel her enthusiasm.

And so, the only time periods of that day she got to somewhat enjoy and relax were the early morning or evening, mostly because she slept during those times. So, to say that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to be woken up by loud noises in the kitchen, causing her to at first assume someone decided to rob your home, only to then notice that you weren’t lying next to her, would be somewhat of an understatement.

“It’s three in the morning, what are you doing in the kitchen?”, she asked once she arrived in the room, only to catch you in the process of baking, treading around carefully so to not make another sound. Or at least that’s what you have been doing, before Shinobu’s voice caused you to startle and nearly drop the bowl in your hand.

“O-oh, so I did wake you up”, you thought out loud in barely more than a whisper, a sheepish grin on your face while you tried your best not to let her glare hurt you too much.

“Why are you whispering? Is there another person I don’t know living here, that you don’t want to wake up?”, she stated sarcastically, causing your face to get even redder in embarrassment. “Anyway, care to explain what’s so important that you have to bake it at three in the morning?”, she asked before you had a chance to answer her previous questions, not missing the chance to emphasize the time of day.

“Today’s your birthday… So, I wanted to surprise you with a cake first thing in the morning. I guess that didn’t work out as I planned”, you admitted, before adding another “Sorry for waking you up”. Now it was her time to get silent, and while she still couldn’t help but be annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the night, the new information made it easy for her to forgive you.

“What exactly are you baking? If you’re okay with telling me”, she asked, this time in a much softer voice.

“Well, we don’t want to ruin all the surprise, so all I can say is that it’s a cake. I thought about making cookies at first, but birthday-cookies sound a bit weird”, you told her with a small smile, being grateful that she wasn’t angry at you anymore, only for her face to suddenly change into that of confusion.

“Cookies?”

“Well, the plan was to surprise you with them and say something like: Would you like a Cookie, Shinobu?”, it took her tired brain a few seconds to comprehend your pun, causing her to blankly stare at you, but when she did, she couldn’t help but smile a bit at how bad it was, only to cover her reaction up with a sigh and a shake of her head.

“Well, I’m going back to bed. Try not to make too much noise, it’s still the middle of night.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #kuki shinobu imagines #kuki shinobu x reader #JustASimp'sSimpingEvent

[autumntouched]

Day 12 of Ode to Phoenix

This is the first NSFW, 18+ ode to Phoenix so for anyone who wants or needs to (ahem minors,) please exit stage left or right at this time.

Prompt: When Hangman compliments her lingerie, Phoenix realizes it's his favorite and uses it to seduce him. Part of the Hannix Football Rivalry AU...don't ask me how the Super Bowl ended up in this one. It did.

Requested by: @melodiousoblivionao3

Warnings: Not really a plot, just Hannix smut. m masturbation, m/f blow job, m/f vaginal fingering, mention of m/f intercourse

A/N: Once again, from my brain to the page with few edits. Sorry for any mistakes. xx

Team Colors

They’re not practical. The silky ribbons that hold the dark green satin and lace thong together come undone too easily or show through anything that hugs her hips. A friend gave them to her as a joke several years ago, and she almost never wears them. But she and Jake are behind on laundry, and it’s the only option left in her drawer if she wants to be ready to go in time. 

“Phoenix, are you–,” Jake trails off as he comes through the bedroom door. She pauses her search for a t-shirt and looks over to find her boyfriend staring like his brain is buffering. “Is that new?” he stammers. 

She knows what he’s talking about, but she never misses a chance to mess with him. “Is what new, dickhead?” Natasha asks innocently, looking around.

He swallows and reaches up to rub the back of his neck. His gaze jumps up and down between the matching lace bra, which he’s seen plenty of. His eyes darken to the color of the lingerie she’s wearing. “That thong,” he chokes out. 

Natasha turns to face him and pops her hip. He fidgets, subtly widening his stance. “Not exactly new. Like it?” 

Jake struggles to get ahold of himself because they don’t have a spare moment before they have to head out. “Looks good on you.” He slides his hands into his pockets and turns to leave.

“Weren’t you going to ask me something?” she prompts, not trying to hide her amusement. 

It takes him a moment to remember. “I was going to ask if you’re almost ready, but uh, no rush.”

All day she catches him watching her, gaze lingering on her lower back and hips, what’s underneath her jeans no doubt preoccupying his mind. But before they get home, he gets called in early the next morning to cover for one of the instructors and the thong ends up in the hamper before he has time to appreciate it. 

---

Natasha smooths the freshly made bed and wonders where Jake is with the rest of the laundry. “Bagman!” she calls. 

No answer. He doesn’t respond to "Jake" either.

She exhales sharply through her nose, annoyed. He probably got distracted on his phone. She heads down to the laundry room to check on him. The door is ajar, and it’s not the sound of the washer or dryer coming from the room.

Jake breathes heavily over the muffled slick friction of his hand on himself. A high whine punches out of his chest on what sounds like a particularly firm stroke. Natasha bites back a smile and creeps forward on tiptoe to peek into the room. 

He leans against the wall, head thrown back and hand in his gym shorts. His throat muscles strain with his mounting arousal. Clutched to his chest is her green thong. “Fuck, Nat,” he exhales. 

“Did you summon me?” she asks softly, pushing the door open all the way. 

Jake’s eyes fly open and whatever part of his skin isn’t already flushed goes bright red. “No!” he shouts, throwing away the panties like that will save him now.

“Didn’t realize how much you liked those on me,” she teases, stooping to pick up the abandoned evidence. His chest heaves as he waits for her reaction. She makes a mental note to pack a little surprise for him the next time he goes on a trip or deployment. But for now, she sways her hips on her way to him and presses the thong to his stomach. 

“How about you hold onto these while I finish where you left off?” Jake’s pupils blow wide open at that. 

“Huh?” he asks stupidly.

She doesn’t give him a chance to put his brain back together. Natasha drops to her knees, one hand still holding the thong to his abdomen while the other tugs off his shorts and works his boxer briefs down his shapely thighs. He’s still holding his full, hard length, his head glistening with his precum. The musk of his aroused sweat and sight of his well-endowed dick stretched to its zenith goes straight to her core. She wraps her hand around his and lowers him to her mouth, darting out her tongue to swirl his tip. There’s a sweet edge to the saltiness of his leaking precum from the peaches he ate earlier. 

He grunts and lets out a litany of “Fucks!” when she wraps her lips around him and sucks lightly. She loves the taste of him, the way he fills her mouth as he releases his hold to her. The hand over his stomach slides down to brace herself against his base, her thumb stroking through his pubes as she takes him in her mouth. Broken, ragged sighs and moans burst out of him as she sucks him down. 

“I love how good you are,” she breathes across his tip before lifting him so she can lick a slow path from his balls to his head. The contrast of his hard erection with the petal soft skin of his dick is making her own brain intoxicatingly fuzzy. 

“Oh god!” he shouts. Then pleadingly, “Nat.” The fist clutching her panties goes to his face. She presses her advantage and licks the same path again, sending his hips back into the wall as his precum spills over her lips and chin. He watches, eyes hooded and lips gnawed swollen, as she drags his fluid up to her mouth then licks it off her finger. She swallows, and his dick jumps hard. A molten swell of satisfaction pools between Natasha’s legs and floods her already soaked underwear. 

Jake surges down and captures her mouth with his, his lips and tongue dragging the breath right out of her lungs. Natasha has to let go of him to wrap an arm around his neck and hang on lest she pass out from the sheer assault of him on her senses. 

“Let me fuck your mouth,” he begs when he breaks away. 

Her voice is wrecked, her vision a little hazy as she stares up at him. “Give me your shirt and promise to cum all over my tongue,” she rasps, “and my mouth is all yours.” 

“Good lord, are you trying to kill me?” he moans. Jake rips off his shirt and hands it to her. She uses it and his discarded shorts to pad her aching knees. He settles back against the wall and in the laundry room light, he glows like her own glorious Eros. She wants to lick every bead of sweat that glistens between the carved ridges of his abdomen and chest. Gently, he strokes her hair before lacing his fingers through it. “Let me know if I hurt you or you want me to stop?” 

She nods and parts her lips for him. It’s too much for Jake to watch himself stroke in and out of her mouth, but Natasha treasures every trembling clench of his muscles, the roped veins in his arms as he holds off his release, the alluring column of his throat, and the perfect arch of his jaw. She opens the back of her throat and hums her pleasure, ignoring the dribble of drool forced out by his girth. His panting accelerates with his pace. 

“How is your mouth this perfect?” he groans. Jake chances a glance down in time to see her smirk and throws his head back again. “Fuck!” 

The little room fills with his increasingly loud, desperate gasps and keens over the wet lap of his dick in her mouth. Natasha presses forward so that his thighs meet her breasts and her hands can knead the muscled curves of his ass. There’s something about being on her knees for Jake that makes her high on her love for him, the feeling that there is nothing she wouldn’t be willing to do for him. She tilts her head to give him a new angle, and to breathe a little easier, and his fingers curl in her hair. “Yeah there, Nat. That’s so good.” 

His hips start to move more urgently. “So close. I can’t–I’m going to come.”

“Mhmm,” she encourages, relaxing her own muscles and closing her eyes because now he’s thrusting against the back of her throat. She can always tell from the pitch and cadence of Jake’s gasps how close he is to finishing, but what she loves most about taking him in her mouth is that she can also follow the subtle shifts in his body on its way to finding his release in her.

When she hears him on the brink, she sucks a little harder on his next thrust.

“Nat,” he chokes and gives way to his climax with a long, stuttering groan. His balls and dick constrict in rapid succession before the swell of his cum rushes through his length and bursts in hot spurts down her throat. She moans around the feel of him pumping out his release as she swallows everything she can. Jake’s legs tremble under her hands as he shudders through his orgasm. . 

Carefully, she slides her mouth off of him and scoots out of his way. He tosses her thong onto the wash machine and sinks to the floor. Natasha curls up between his legs, leaning into his heat, as he continues to come down. A little clumsily, he uses her t-shirt to dab his cum off her face then drapes his arms around her. He looks down at her completely love drunk, eyes slightly out of focus and mouth slack with a dopey smile. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop thinking about how hot those panties looked on you, babe.” 

She reaches up and strokes the damp strands of hair behind his ear. “I guess I’m going to have to wear them a little more often then.” 

He nuzzles her neck with a breathless laugh. “Like every day, please.” 

---

As soon as he knows the Chiefs are going to the Super Bowl, Jake calls dibs on them, leaving her the Eagles by default. “Mahomes is from East Texas!” he defends himself adamantly. “I root for anyone from East Texas.”

She rolls her eyes and gives him the finger.

They opt to stay home and watch the Super Bowl together, a decision that draws enough raised eyebrows that they end up making up a party that they’re going to just to avoid the knowing looks. 

Natasha isn’t sure whether Jake has a Chiefs t-shirt or buys one for the occasion, but on game day he puts it on before going to pick up their order of wings and fries while she picks out something green. At a sudden burst of inspiration, she closes the kitchen and living room blinds before changing into her Eagles Super Bowl outfit. 

Jake nearly drops the bag of food when he notices her watching the pre-game coverage on the sofa. 

“Phoenix, what the fuck are you wearing!” he yelps. 

She grins evilly and folds her arms on the cushions. “Green. For the Eagles. Like we agreed.” What she’s really wearing is a sheer green bra and his new favorite pair of underwear. 

“For fucks sake, Nat! How am I supposed to watch the game with you in that?” he complains. 

Natasha smirks. “Sounds like a problem for you, not for me.” 

But it’s most definitely her problem by the time the Chiefs win the coin toss because even propping his legs up on the coffee table and holding his beer in his lap, Jake can’t hide that at least her outfit, if not her team, has his full support. 

When the Eagles score right out of the gate, Natasha’s touchdown dance to “We Will Rock You” ends any pretense that they’re going to make it through this game. He slams his beer on the coaster and launches himself to his feet. Bodily, he lifts her over his shoulder and lightly smacks her ass.

Laughing, Natasha doesn’t have time to get her bearings before he dumps her on the sofa and pins her in place with a kiss that makes her forget where she was going with this other than where she’s landed. He tastes of beer, wings, football, and a day he promised to spend alone with her. And the way Jake's kissing her, tongue stroking hers, hips swaying his erection over her core, hand kneading her breast, she wouldn't mind if he never stopped.

She runs her leg along the line of his, and Jake growls. He kisses and nips his way to her chest, his tongue teasing her nipple through the barely there lace. "Fuck, Jake!" she hisses when he slides open her bra with one hand. The release of her chest feels so good and the way he's staring down at her peaked and hardened nipples like his birthday has come early quickens the pulse in her core.

If she doesn't stop him now, she's not going to be able to put the breaks on this much longer. Natasha presses a hand to his chest. “Hold up, Texas Hold ‘Em! No cum on the couch.” 

Jake grins slyly and tugs out the bow on one side of her underwear. She looks down at his hands as he switches sides and pulls apart the other bow. Their foreheads are practically touching, their breaths racing against one another's as they watch him lift the top of the thong off her like he’s just unwrapped a present. 

His breath hitches when he sees how wet his own anticipation made her. So much for no cum on the couch. Making a split second decision, Jake tugs off his shirt and spreads it under her hips. He traces her soaking slit, and she’s already wet enough for him to slip two of his large fingers into her. 

Natasha arches her back off the pillow and lifts her hips onto his hand. He watches her biting her lip and leans in to kiss her again. His weight settles over her, pressing her into the sturdy softness of the sofa’s cushions. At some point, the Chiefs score and then the Eagles again but the only end zone Natasha and Jake still care about is the one his fingers and mouth are driving her toward. 

They're already cuddled naked in a large throw blanket, exhausted and spent, when the Chiefs win the game. But Jake musters his stamina to drive home one last orgasm and his victory, his fingers laced through hers as she cries out his name.

–

On the third day of deployment in the Indian Ocean, Jake pulls out a black undershirt for the day and something tumbles out into his seabag. He runs his hand over the top of his things and freezes. 

He lifts out a green lace and satin thong and a folded piece of paper.

In case you want to remember how hot I look in these while you’re gone. Love, Natasha

Something about his shirt catches his attention. It smells like…he holds her lingerie to his nose. He’s fucked and never leaving his bunk. She sprayed it with her perfume.

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

#hannix football rivalry #hannix fics #hannix smut #natasha trace x jake seresin #jake seresin x natasha trace #phoenix x hangman #hangman x phoenix #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #hannix fic #tgm fics #tgm fic #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #natasha trace fic #phoenix fic

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Domestic December 3 & 4

Playing Catch Up, but it's on track! Here's 3 and 4!

Dec 3 Prompt - Waiting in line together -> Quinn's first Mass as acolyte

Dec 4 Prompt - Borrowing each others clothes -> Ministry Halloween party

AO3 Link for all the days as I do them

Blurbs about my OC Quinn and her childhood growing up with Terzo as a best friend. SFW minus some swearing and mature theme mentions, but no smut or anything like that.

3 - Waiting in line together

Ages → Quinn – 17, Terzo – 20/21 The call to Mass had finished a short time ago, and the pews and benches were full with few stragglers left waiting to go in. Quinn tugged at the band collar of her acolyte’s cassock, finding it itchy. “Nervous?” the familiar voice murmured in her ear from behind. “No, just itchy. I hate cassocks.” Terzo chuckled. “Stop fussing, we’ll be going in soon enough. I remember my first Mass.” “I remember, I was there.” “But you were practically a baby then!” “I was twelve! You were fifteen or sixteen, it wasn’t that long ago!” “I’m trying to help you feel calm!” “I’m only here as a punishment because I used your Ministry materials to summon an imp.” “And why did you do that again?” He asked in a professional tone, acting his role as priest for once. “I wanted to see if I could! And I did. Then in the heat of the moment I made a deal with it to enchant an item so I could have pink hair whenever I wanted to.” “Uh huh. So you showed a natural affinity for summoning supernatural beings and consider being put into Ministry training early to be a punishment?” He was struggling to keep the amusement from his voice. “This cassock is a fucking punishment. I don’t mind the training, but why the acolyte duties? I’m holding a staff, that’s not part of summoning. It’s pomp and circumstance.” “You happen to be holding the Grucifix staff, have some respect. Don’t make me get your father.”

Quinn stared at him. “Are you honestly pulling rank on me right now?!” Terzo raised his brows playfully. “Me? Never.” “You son of a…” She glared at him. Secondo cleared his throat at the both of them from his spot behind Terzo. “Enough children.” “You’re only three months older than I am, so stuff it, Secondo,” Terzo snapped. “Yeah, stuff it Secondo,” Quinn parroted brattily. “Or I’ll bonk you with my stick!” “It’s a Grucifix staff!” Both Emeritus boys chastised her. “Why is she even an acolyte again?” Secondo asked irritably. “I’m being punished for my talent.” “She has a natural affinity for things.” Terzo said at the same time. “Punishment.” Quinn reiterated with a dramatic eye roll. Someone else hushed them as the organ cued up the entrance music for the Clergy processional. “Behave yourself, tesoro,” Terzo warned. “You represent the Clergy and Ministry now. Don’t bring shame.” Quinn glared at him, and when he turned away from her for a moment, she bonked him on the head with the Grucifix staff. “Stronzo (asshole),” she muttered, turning away and making herself presentable before following the directions of the person ahead of her as she strode down the ritual chapel’s center aisle to the dais and altar.

4 - Borrowing clothes

Ages → Quinn – 20, Terzo – 24 The unofficial Ministry Halloween party would be starting soon, and Quinn was working on the finishing touches of her costume. The Ministry’s official Samhain events were the following day, but in a Satanic Ministry, they were loath to miss a chance to party and maybe also mock Christianity while they were at it. Those directly involved with the Samhain rituals would likely stay more sober, but not guaranteed. The main areas of The Ministry were off-limits for this event, meaning it was mostly outside on the grounds near the woods, a large bonfire set up as well as a large event pavilion for warmth. Quinn, tesoro, have you seen–” Terzo stopped dead when he saw her. “What are you wearing?! That’s my– Those are my clothes!” “I know, I’m going as you! Isn’t it great?” She twirled, showing off the cropped band shirt and short-shorts. “I am not a Halloween costume!” “You are now.” “Those look…very different on you than on me. Maybe not appropriate. Half your ass is hanging out!” “What, because I have an ass and tits, so they’re even smaller on me than they were on you? Are you actually slut shaming me right now?!” “Did you pierce your belly button?!” He screeched suddenly, seeing the glittering gem on her navel. “What? No. It’s a rhinestone I glued on. But hey, my attention to detail is paying off. How do you style your hair again?” she asked, playing with the black wig in the mirror. “I’m not aiding you in this! You stole my clothing and you’re mocking me.” “No, if I wanted to mock you, I’d dress up as you in your vampire costume and follow you around all night mimicking you and cockblocking you,” she smirked. “You are insufferable!” He raged indignantly. “And stay out of my closet! Don’t borrow my clothes!” “Because I look cuter in them than you do?” “No! Because… Because… Because you stretch them out with your feminine curves! Ugh!” Quinn snickered as she finally got the wig to look right. “Aha! Perfect.” “Unbelievable.” Terzo gave her a flat look, shaking his head.

#the band ghost #fanfic #papa emeritus iii #papa terzo #ghost terzo #terzo #terzo emeritus #ghost fanfiction #ghost fic #young terzo #female oc #Domestic December 2023 #domestic december

[tchallasbabymama]

PREVIEW: Ménage à Trois Part Deux Chapter Two

Hey, y'all. Life has been kicking my ass lately, but here's a taste of what I've got so far. I'm hoping to get this chapter finished, beta-read, and posted by the end of next week... but we'll see how that goes.

CW: smut

Zora woke up to the sound of light snores to her left and warm breaths against her right ear. As usual, two heavy arms were slung across her body, but instead of starting her day filled with the joy of being in her lovers’ arms again, flashbacks of the night before played on a loop in Zora’s mind. She watched the ceiling fan blades rotate slowly and sighed as she internally cursed herself for slipping up, prompting T’Challa to tighten his grip on her waist.

“Stop thinking about last night,” he grumbled in her ear.

Zora turned to look at him questioningly, and he smirked without opening his eyes. She didn’t even bother asking how he knew what was on her mind, choosing instead to focus on the upward curl of his thick lashes. T’Challa felt her gaze, and those lashes fluttered open to allow his chocolate diamonds to sparkle in the early morning sunlight. The glorious sight almost stunned Zora to silence, but she pressed on. 

“It was a disaster,” the queen whispered so as not to wake her other husband from his deep slumber. 

“Try not to focus on the ending.”

“I shouldn’t have gone into the gardens,” Zora whined. “I just-”

T’Challa cut her off with a kiss.

“You blame yourself too easily.” 

He was right, but nonetheless, she narrowed her eyes at him.

“How are you so chill about this?”

T’Challa brought his hand up to caress her cheek.

“I have watched you live a lie to the rest of the world since the moment you stepped into this role. And I have watched that lie eat away at you every time you have to uphold it. As both a man and a Wakandan, I will never fully understand the pressures of living in a world that mandates you move in such a way, but from my point of view, it seems exhausting.”

“It is,” Zora croaked around the lump forming in her throat, and turned to look at M’Baku, still splayed out on his stomach and snoring away. “A-and I can’t help but think I’m hurting him. He says he’s fine, but I wouldn’t be if I were in his shoes.”

T’Challa chose to hold his tongue and let M’Baku express his feelings later, but he knew that Zora’s speculation was correct. M’Baku had confided in him that he wasn’t as fine with the arrangement as he let on, but since he didn’t want his feelings to stand in the way of Zora’s success, he was wary of telling her.  

“You should talk to him about it.”

“I will, but I’m pretty sure the whole world knows by now,” Zora huffed with a roll of her eyes as last night’s events played in her mind again. She relived everything from the shutter click in the gardens to the crowd’s murmurs at seeing the Dora Milaje with their spears trained on two guests. Damn near every phone was up recording the catastrophe as it unfolded, most of which were streaming live, and they all captured the moment Zora’s public image shattered into millions of pieces thanks to colonizers sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.

“No, they know what those people think they saw. The world has yet to hear the truth.”

“I don’t know if the world’s ready for the truth.”

“Not everyone will be, but imagine what you will be doing for those that are.”

“You always know what to say,” Zora complimented him with a warm smile.

“Because I am your husband, and I love you.”

He kissed her deeply, and she moaned into his parted lips. The sound coursed through T’Challa’s veins and woke up the rest of his body until his every cell ached for his wife. He hadn’t touched her body in two weeks, and the time apart was starting to catch up to him the longer he kissed her. With M’Baku being around and a very willing submissive for them both, the king wasn’t in need of release, but he missed the smell of Zora’s skin and the taste of her juices seeping out for him. He longed to feel her contract around him when she climaxed, and the memory of her screaming his name had him prying her legs open and sliding his fingers into her depths.

“Mmmm-”

“Quiet, or your husband will catch us,” he ordered softly in Zora’s ear, turning her on even more. It wasn’t often that they engaged in cheating roleplay, but when they did, it turned Zora into a sopping wet mess. “You don’t want him to know how filthy you are, do you?”

Zora shook her head and trapped her plump bottom lip between her pearly whites in a feeble attempt to quiet her moans. Her big doe eyes dared not look away from T’Challa’s piercing gaze when he found a spot inside her that made her release a noise much too undignified for a woman of her royal ranking. 

“I said be quiet, Zora,” T’Challa sneered, his breath hot against her ear as his teeth dragged along the lobe.

“Uxolo baby, I-I-”

Zora’s desperate whispers tickled T’Challa’s skin, and his ears grew hot the way they always did when she spoke his native tongue to him.

“Thula!” he growled, pulling his fingers out and slapping her sensitive vulva. The small whimper that she managed to squeak out upon impact made him smile. She was trying to be good for him, so he let his wet fingers trail up her pussy lips to the bundle of nerves that poked out like a beacon of pleasure, calling out to be touched and handled with care.

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #t'challa x oc x m'baku #black!oc #throuple #polyamory