#and i think i prefer not following a prompt. every day is a surprise~. and i don't hopelessly compare myself to others

[aizenify]

[💌] AIZEN SŌSUKE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS

[NOTE]: Aizen has a variety of character arcs, so this won't be limited to any specific one. I do plan to create a more detailed version covering the different Aizen arcs in the future, but you're welcome to request any specific one in the meantime.

[ ☕️ ] My ask box is open! If you have a specific prompt you'd like me to write about—whether it's relationships, everyday activities, or anything else—don't hesitate to ask! I encourage you to suggest whatever your heart desires.

TW: none!

This will be split into 2 sections

What does Aizen look for?

— If you were Aizen’s partner, you’d definitely be someone very special to him. Looks wouldn’t be as important; rather, it would be your personality and ideologies that matter most.

— For instance, Aizen values someone who enjoys challenges and is willing to take risks. He’s all for that, but, of course, you’d also need to be cautious at times.

— Aizen greatly appreciates a deep understanding of the world. I like to think that he and his partner would engage in philosophical conversations daily. He’d want someone to explore the world with, to venture into new places, and try new experiences. Aizen definitely strikes me as the type to enjoy travel.

— He would want someone who challenges him. Given who Aizen is, he wouldn’t be interested in a partner who is passive or follows the crowd. He wants someone who will challenge his ideas, his ethics, and his worldview. He seeks someone who is on the same intellectual level, someone equal to him, or perhaps even better. This is something he has always longed for.

— I believe Aizen is sapiosexual, meaning he is attracted to people with high intelligence, and also likely demisexual or somewhere on the aromantic/asexual spectrum. He deeply values intelligence and personal space. For him, the sexual aspects of a relationship would not be his focus; instead, he values the fundamentals. His understanding of "love" is more complex than that of most people.

— Building on what I mentioned about his view on love, you would also need to respect his needs and be patient. Trust is essential here. Aizen doesn’t easily trust anyone, so the idea of him loving someone would make him feel extremely vulnerable. While he views trust as a form of reliance, his approach to trust in relationships is different. His way of showing trust and love will likely be expressed through his actions. Perhaps after Muken, Aizen would become more open and free. Muken Aizen, after all, is much more carefree and relaxed.

I’ll keep this section as is since it’s getting long. I’ll leave the rest for another day!

What will Aizen be like with his S/O?

— Aizen would likely ask for your thoughts on his plans or if you have any alternative suggestions for execution. He enjoys the sound of his own voice, so don’t be surprised if he rambles on about his strategies or just shares his thoughts from time to time.

— He will shower his partner with gifts and words of affirmation. Aizen is incredibly attentive and will take note of even the smallest details about what you like, even if you haven’t explicitly told him.

— Quality time will be very important to him as well. Despite his preference for solitude, having someone by his side will be a refreshing change. After being alone for so long, it’s natural to crave companionship. Aizen will likely plan a variety of activities for you both to enjoy together, whether it’s shopping, cooking, or simply taking a walk. Every moment with you will be meaningful.

— Physical touch is something Aizen might find unfamiliar at first. He’s used to being cautious with those around him, especially with anyone who gets too close. However, I think he would offer hugs from time to time as a way to show that he’s there for you and cares for you. If he knows you enjoy physical affection, he’ll make an effort to meet that need, even if it takes him a while to become fully comfortable with it!

— Expect a lot of playful bantering. Aizen seems like He enjoys a bit of lighthearted back-and-forth.

— Aizen will take you out on extravagant dates or to fancy venues. He is undoubtedly classy and chivalrous, he will treat you with the utmost respect and make sure you always get the best of everything!

That’s all for now! Thank you for reading!!! This is my first published hc 🧡🤎☕️

[difty-dift]

That's Week 2 done!

... and that's it! Lmao I wish I could keep this up but I'm gonna be so busy the next like 3 weeks and won't have the freedom to draw a bunch of duders every day. Gonna focus on the weekly stuff instead~ ✌️

[rivatar]

Practice Makes Perfect

Pairing: AU!College!BasketballPlayer!Neteyam (21) x Fem!Human!Cheerleader!Reader (20)

Warnings/content: MDNI, smut, p in v, creampie, mean & fuckboy Neteyam, degradation, mirror sex, fwb, think that’s it but lmk!

A/n: This is for the day 2 prompt of Pandora’s Glow — Mirror sex + FWB! Credits to @luvv4j4ybe11 & @aperiraa for the event! And credits to @cafekitsune for dividers!

W/c: 1.2k

Neteyam was eyeballing you during practice every chance he got.

He was one of the team captains and this often got to his head; no not often— all of the time. He was the typical cocky athlete who would send nudes to every hot girl, just like all his friends and teammates. He had girls falling at his feet so of course he fucked whoever he deemed pretty enough. Anything to get his dick wet and satisfy his endless sex drive.

To him, this glorified his manhood. Getting laid is the pinnacle of proving you’re the best. And Neteyam was the best. A star athlete with a full ride at your university, his family was well-known and wealthy, and he was favorited not just among his peers, but the professors, coaches, and other faculty too. He charmed the elders with his perfect boy persona, and hell— sports is what matters most to everyone so they all fall for his bullshit since he plays a part at getting them those big wins at nearly every game.

Your sport, however, was hardly deemed a sport by most. Including Neteyam. You worked hard your whole life, competing in All Star competitive cheer. Between the lifts, jumps, flips, and sheer stamina, you firmly believed cheer was damn well a sport, and a difficult one at that.

Due to renovations on the other gym where your team normally practiced all year, you were now forced to practice in the same gym as Neteyam and his team this season. Now him and his minions could openly laugh and make fun of you and your girls, like the himbo pieces of shits they are. Whether it was during stretches, muscle conditioning, or practicing the routines and stunts, the guys were always poking at y’all with sexualized and demeaning comments whenever they could and when the coaches weren’t close enough to hear. It usually went like:

“Bend over a little more, babydoll!”, “Could they make the skirts just a little shorter, please?”, “Amazing eye candy, ladies!”

They were often replied to with heavy eye rolls and a few “fuck off”s by all of you. The pure disrespect towards your sport was almost more than you could bare. Being viewed as an object to the male gaze was gonna be the death of you.

That was why you didn’t know why you ever agreed to this little situation with Neteyam after he cornered you and sweet talked you months ago. Now, it was like a daily routine.

…

“Mmm, fuck!” You held onto the sink in front of you for dear life while Neteyam rattled your shit from behind.

After both your practices wrapped up for the day, he gave you a look you knew all too well. One that said he wanted to fuck, now. The man always had his mind in the gutter. Neteyam always picked the place for the matter, sometimes a little riskier than you’d prefer, being that you didn’t want to be kicked off the team. But this time, following after his tall, broad figure as non-suspiciously as possible, he entered the family restroom down the hall. And that was how you ended up with his dick deep in your pussy.

He flipped your cheer practice skirt up to get a view of your ass, choosing to leave it on and pushing your panties to the side when he shoved his dick inside you.

“You know what this tiny little skirt does to me, you slut. Damn near asking for it, huh?” he said with venom lacing his words, giving your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered at his words. He was right, you were being a slut and you knew it. But you couldn’t resist him, much to your dismay, so you let your dignity take the hit.

“All wet and tight just for me? Or is it from ogling the other guys, too? Wouldn’t surprise me knowing you,” he chuckled darkly, “I mean you literally dance around for the entire public anyways, you little attention whore,”

You blushed deeply, heating up all over. You chose to look down at your feet that were struggling to hold you up from the sheer force of his thrusts.

Then you felt a rough hand beneath your jaw, forcing you to look up and into the mirror right in front of you. You were such a mess— hair misplaced, sweat lining your forehead, and some drool and tears leaking out on your face.

“Watch yourself get fucked by me,” he grunted, and held your face in place so you were forced to acknowledge the scene you were creating through the mirror.

He was hitting your cervix so perfectly, making your body tingle all over. You let out a long and drawn out moan as every inch of your body felt like it was on cloud 9.

“See how pretty you look when you’re moaning?” He said into your ear, “Just a cockslut getting exactly what she wants. You’re lucky you’re so hot or you wouldn’t be getting this from me,” he added while nibbling your ear.

You clenched around him and attempted to drop your head down and focus on the pleasure. He didn’t let you move one bit though, with his painful grip on your hip and his other hand directing your face to the mirror.

“Nuh uh. Watch it. Want you to watch yourself cum on my cock,” Neteyam stuttered a bit, feeling his orgasm approach quickly. “Better do it now pretty girl, I can’t hold back much longer,”

He gave you harder and somehow deeper thrusts while snaking his hand around to rub tight circles on your nub. And that was all it took for your coil to snap.

“Ahhh fuck!!” You screamed as your orgasm wracked through your entire body, almost closing your eyes shut.

“Eyes open,” he tapped your jaw, “Look at you go,” He praised you as the feeling soared through your body.

Your jaw was hanging open in a silent scream as you watched your legs shake and felt your pussy convulse on him.

“Now, eyes on me. Watch me as I cum in you,” He gritted through teeth.

You watched him through your eyebrows, your head feeling light and struggling to stay upright, your arms on the sink still holding you up. You watched in awe as all his muscles tensed up deliciously and he threw his head back while guiding your hips back on him as he shot his hot load in your cunt. You noticed all the little micro-expressions in his face as the sweet release rushed through his body too.

Coming down from your highs, you both glanced at each other briefly, suppressing little laughs. You fixed your skirt the best you could although he left an absolute mess in your folds, with his cum slowly seeping out of you. So you knew you needed to get out of there before anyone saw cum dribbling down your legs.

He smirked, knowing why you were rushing to get out. “Might wanna wash that before next practice,” he teased and winked at you, feeling proud as you swung the door open and ran off.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @eywaseclipse @neteyamsoare @nonamevenus @loakstahni @zafrinaxyz @anemonelovesfiction @strongheartneteyam @etherynn @plantgirliewholovespandora @ladykat37 @xylianasblog @vogueweb @inolaphoenix (lmk if you’d like to be added or removed!)

[andromeda-nova-writing]

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

Fem!Reader Words: 1742

AN: Is it a sequel to the last fic or a request from @isekyaaa? It's both! I hope I've done the prompt justice for you

Y/N’s classroom was silent as she shuffled papers around trying to clean up what was now a shared classroom. To say it was her classroom wasn’t a good way to describe the room. It was a room that she had been thrown into over a month ago on the other side of the campus. The classroom was cramped, lights would flicker in and out, and the heat would never kick in. It felt as if the university just wanted her to quit. Had her rightful complaints of poor treatment got her into this? Or maybe it was the fact she wasn't afraid to critique their golden boy? 

At least she had already completed her final class of the day and with no meetings, all that was left to do was to go home. Hopefully, the next teacher here will be satisfied with her cleaning. With the knock on the door, she assumed that was who had shown up.

“I’ll be just a minute. I’m almost done in here.” Y/N placed the last of the papers within her bag, eyes not even making contact with the door frame. “I just have to clean the whiteboard.”

There was a man’s sigh followed by footsteps and a binder landing in front of her on the desk where she sat. It was a plain purple that felt way too familiar. Looking up at its owner she shouldn’t have been surprised. “What do you want Ratio?” Her question came off in a mix of annoyance, tiredness, and ready for a fight.

“Open it.”

“Your hands work.”

“Will you just open the binder?” A question that sounded more like a demand

She rolled her eyes before doing what she had been asked. There was no sense in fighting every little thing. Looking at the paper on top, it was just a simple list of grades over time. There were two sections highlighted about a month apart from each other with a noticeable improvement. It was small but clear to see. “It's a start at least. Is this all you have to show me?”

He flipped to the next page. It was the start of a thesis for what he must have been currently working on. The page was covered in red ink of his handwriting over the text he had printed out. It had been a bit odd to see knowing how much he had preferred to work in digital. He had on plenty of occasions spoken a snide comment to her about how he did not need to leave to grab a notebook and that he had access to everything he needed at all times. There were too many times when he had given her a side eye even on just running out of ink.

“You do know I’m in an entirely different field of study than anything you’ve done? I’m not sure if you really want me to read this over. It may be best to find someone else.” She closed the binder, rejecting his request before getting up to clean the whiteboard behind her. “I teach art history. I’m doing a fashion history course at the moment!” She emphasized as began to wipe down the whiteboard, clearing it of a few things that had been required for her students to take note of. 

“You are able to not hold back on giving critiques which is a skill in itself.” One that others at the university he found were lacking. “I do not require someone who has a similar knowledge as me. It’s harder to understand where my writing doesn’t make sense when someone has an easier time following along with the subject matter.”

Y/N dropped the cloth in her hands, turning around. “That is not the compliment you think it is!”

“And it wasn't an insult either!” He pinched his nose in an attempt to remain calm. “It's a rough draft. There are still things I would like to add but I want you to read through it first.”

She leaned against the clean side of the whiteboard that was behind her. “It would be better to find someone else to read through it. What part of that do you not understand?”

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” He had said it louder than he had meant to, emotions taking over for a brief moment. Perhaps the same emotions that had derailed his train of logic led him to even ask her for this favor.

“The part where you are the one who is saying it. I’m bound to say something that will start a debate and derail your work. Or better yet I help you only end up teaching in a closet next.”

“You act as if I am the one who put you in here.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. You even yelled at me over this a month ago.”

“I wasn't yelling.” 

He had crossed his arms giving her a side eye.

“You are misremembering. I was annoyed yes but yelling no.” 

“If you can remember that you can remember your own actions then. You waltzed in and blamed me for the actions of people higher up than me.”

“I,” she sighed remembering back on it more, “I did do that didn’t I? To be fair, your lack of teaching skills left me in a room where I feel like I'm going to turn into an ice cube. How are you even standing in here without shivering?” Y/N asked as she looked over the more revealing aspects of his attire. 

He shook his head at the lack of an apology. “They do keep most of the servers within this building. That's still no excuse for why this room is so cold.”

“Every time I ask about it I'm told either the heat is out or that it's on low. I was told it was going to be fixed but I’m pretty sure that was a lie now. Most of my students started bringing blankets to class with them. They are just recording the lecture instead of taking notes and I can tell they aren’t going back to listen to it cause the grades are just dropping now.” Y/N complained with defeat just washing over her. 

“Have you made it known that these changes are affecting your class?” He asked the obvious as if she couldn’t think of it herself.

“They will make changes off of things you say because the complaints come from you. Your name carries weight. No matter how correct I am, because I even dare to point out a flaw of yours I am to be ignored and tossed aside so as to not ruin what your name brings to this place.” Her eyes drifted to the floor. “I’m clearly being punished. If I speak about what is going on anymore who knows what I may lose next? The arts remain to be disrespected even when used to teach about the history of different worlds. I must face the fact that I am not wanted.” It hurt a bit to admit it allowed. This had been a dream job of hers and it felt horrible to see it ripped from her over a lack of general respect from those above her.

“I want you.” He repeated once more with softness and desperation leaking into his voice. “As annoying as your critiques can be, listening to them has forced me to take a look at myself and bring improvement. Trying to improve myself without the input of another only works for so long. I’ve seemed to have forgotten that.” Perhaps he had grown too similar to some of those who worked here in that aspect. The distance between them was breaking as he moved closer into her space. 

Her laughter filled the small space between the two of them. One that was genuine, not filled with their usual sarcasm and jabs back and forth. “Are you hiding a literature degree there? I've never heard anyone beg for a critique like this before.” She teased.

“It’s not begging. I am just asking what I know you are capable of. You would have given your thoughts without me asking, wouldn’t it be better to invite those thoughts instead?” 

“I suppose it would but I'm not quite sure about it still. My critiques of you haven't ended well for me. What's to say this time would be different?”

“I believe I have met your requirements to discuss what is considered life-changing once more.” The grades rising just by points didn’t meet what she had asked of him and yet it was enough to take his advances seriously. 

“I wasn’t sure you would follow through on what I asked of you. Have you found a definition or have you found a different example?” She looked up at him, it took everything to not lose herself in how he was staring at her. His eyes tethered to her lips watching every movement. Part of her wished he would go through with the example she had put a stop to last time.

“It would seem that day in the library was example enough for me. The memory won’t quiet in my mind.”

“Perchance have you put that brain of yours to work figuring out what would quiet it?”

“It is less a matter for my brain to solve.”

“But you have found a solution?” Her eyes kept darting between his normally cold eyes and his lips which appeared so inviting. Maybe if she had paid more attention last time she would have noticed that before.

“I have.”

“I must ask, do you want me for a critique or do you want me?”

“If it’s both?”

“Then I would implore you to show me what you considered life-changing that day. It may persuade me to say yes.”

It was only a matter of mere seconds before Y/N found herself kissing the man she had been blaming for some of her issues with this university. However, she mostly laid the blame for those issues starting with his teaching style, but it was hard to focus on his flaws when he was being so loving at the moment.

Was it loving or more an act of desperation? Something that she would decide later as for now it was quite enjoyable being pinned against a whiteboard making out with a man she could have sworn was just a thorn in her side.

[v3nusxsky]

hello, this is my first time asking here so im kinda shy... maybe can u do a emily prentiss x fem!reader where emily for some reason finds a cowboy hat and put it on to show reader and that turns reader on, then reader needs emily to deal with her... maybe smut if you into it ? thanks, also im following you for a little time and im loving your stories, bye angel

Reverse Cowgirl 18+

*Authors note~ I was unsure on which direction I wanted to take this due to writers block but I low key love it and the last word of the ask seemed to incorporate itself well here, I hope you love it*

Trigger Warnings~ roleplay?? dom em sub r daddy Emily cowboy hat reverse cowgirl position strap oral praise kink degrading kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

It was so rare that you ever had time to spare from chasing serial killers all around the world, but thankfully today seemed to be a rare restful day. No phone buzzing at ungodly hours of the morning with the words "we got a case." No this morning you'd awoken to your favourite agent peacefully sleeping next to you. Your girlfriend, not that anyone else knew. These mornings were definitely your favourite. You often wonder how she gets away with looking so damn gorgeous but then again your too busy starring to care why, instead admiring her beauty.

A lazy morning with your love sounded absolutely perfect until your phone began buzzing on the nightstand. A silent pray for it to not be work, you answered the call to be greeted with an excited shriek form the one and only miss Penelope Garcia. "Pg!" You whined, "my ears Garcia, what do you need?" A little scoff made its way over the line, "you me JJ and Prentiss, shopping at noon. No excuses we need a girl day and I need to spoil my god sons. I'll text you the address, bye sweets!" And just like that she was gone. It wasn't a few seconds later, and your girlfriends phone buzzed too. Trying to contain your laughter as she attempted to wriggle out of the girls day, and her side glance at you while mouthing "traitor" before giving in and accepting that she needed to get up. After the phone call ended you promised if Emily got out of bed you could shower together, apparently that was all the motivation she needed.

After a shower that took twice as long as it normally would've due to Emily's wandering hands you finally secured breakfast and both left to meet the girls. Emily drove you both and honestly you'd be lying if you said her driving with a hand on your thigh didn't drive you insane, soon enough you were separating ways after a final kiss to avoid the suspicion. A part of you wished you could hold her hand in public or kiss her cheek but another part was too scared they'd try and reassign you to keep you both apart. You'd like to think Hotch wouldn't do that but you knew it was out of his control. Plus they didn't even know you were bisexual with a preference for women.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have fun watching Garcia absolutely raid the toy stores and clothing shops while JJ insisted they didn't need anything since the absolute flood of gifts on six months ago. Garcia always won those arguments, finding some kind of loophole somewhere which made you giggle, Emily grabbed everything a coffee in order to slip a little I love you on your cup and every chance she got she discreetly joined your hands under tables. Small things like that made your heart yearn for her.

Now to end up in a sexy shop wasn't on your to do list but with JJ and Wills anniversary coming up it wasn't surprising she wanted to get him something or someone to unwrap. Garcia wondering off to another toy store left you and Emily waiting for JJ. Both of you pretending to look around separately while mentally compiling a list of outfits to get,

Emily even going as far to look at some of the strap ons. Seeing a cow boy hat in a sex shop was certainly something unexpected yet you still couldn't resist putting it on.

"Fetch me my horse daddy" you giggled adding a southern drawl into your accent causing Emily to spin around in confusion. There you stood with a cow boy hat on your head, going surprisingly well with your braided hair, and a riding crop in your right hand, "I believe I found my ride" you whispered before cheekily winking at the stunned woman. While you were putting it back where up I found the accessories you completely missed the raven haired woman buying a certain something and slipping away to hide it.

By the time JJ returned with her gift Emily was back looking at objects in the room as if she'd never left. The imagine of you being her perfect cowgirl never leaving her mind, all the ways she could fuck you in that outfit. On all fours her hand gripping and tugging on your braids as she absolutely rails you from behind. Oh and you'd be so good for her, you always were. Her sweet little cow girl. Unbeknownst to you a silly little dress up would result into an absolutely desperate Emily tonight.

The journey back to Emily's apartment was blissfully normal until you arrived. There she went to the boot of the car and grabbed a cow boy hat. The hat suited her so well and you found yourself to distract to try and find out where she got it from due to the sticky wetness now dripping down your thick thighs. "God daddy so big! I need you" you whined pitifully as she came to hug you from behind, purposefully rubbing her bulge into your ass. That was new. She definitely wasn't packing when you left this morning that was for sure. God she knew how to drive you absolutely wild.

Emily allowed you to practically drag her into the apartment and straight to the bedroom, secretly loving how desperate a simple had made you, before pushing you into the wall and claiming your lips with hers. It was lustful and needy as if neither of you needed oxygen to breathe. Emily's right hand crept up your body until it made its way to its rightful place, your throat. Now with the gentle squeeze of her hand you were begging her to take you already. The nerd becoming unbearable for you. And Emily wasn't handling the need any better than you.

Clothing was torn from eachothers body before Emily gently lifted you so you could wrap your legs around her waist all while never losing your lips. A squeak of surprise flooded the room when your back hit the mattress, "Emily! Oh my gosh" you gasped, "what's got into you?" Perhaps it was a rhetorical question but she answered you anyway with a nip to the base of your throat, "you and that damn hat." You couldn't help but smirk, a harmless silly thing had turned her this needy for you.

Any reply you may have had died on your tongue as you felt her mouth creeping lower and lower until she met your needy cunt. By now your wetness was seeping onto the sheets, "god I need more" you whined impatiently, moving your hands to her hat to hold her in place. Emily was always talented in ever aspect of life, but the way she would plunge her tongue into your tight little hole and curl it just right was enough to drive you insane, but then when she would add two fingers and move her mouth to your aching bundle of nerves you honestly saw the stars. If there was one thing Emily prides herself on is how well you scream her name as she fucks you with her tongue. In fact she swears that she would spend forever between your thighs and die a happy woman.  Yet when your tugging her up for a break from the overwhelming sensations she still feels a little glee at what she planned to come next.

A few sweet kisses and some soft praises found you straddling her lap, the new strap on pressing against your soaking slit. "Please daddy" you whimpered only to be met with a shake of her head. "Nahuh angel, you're gonna ride my cock like a good cowgirl for me" she purred in your ear before helping swivel you around to face her legs. Then the hat was settled on your had before she finally slipped into your awaiting core. "Oh fuck yes so good, so big daddy fuck" you mewled as you slowly began to bounce on her cock. "God you're so fucking sexy, bend over cowgirl I wanna see how I spilt you in two."

The moment you finally bent so she could see how her faux cock moved in and out of your slippery hole she could've swore she almost lost her composure. But her patience was rewarded when soon all you were was a whiny mess hardly able to keep a rhythm. Hands gripped onto her thighs like a life line and yet you still couldn't do as you were asked to. "Such a pathetic whore for my angel, and you were being my sweet girl and yet now you can't even do what a common whore could. I'm disappointed Angel" she murmured placing her hands on your hips. A whine escaped you, "mm sorry daddy I be good girl mm sorry" you whimpered over and over until she finally took pity on you.

With a pace that was perfectly fast and rough Emily slipped out of your cunt, ignoring your whines of protest and flipped you on your hands and knees before slamming back into your needy pussy. From there on she kept a punishing pace. Her hands gripping your braids to steady herself as she attempted to burry her cock into your womb. And you came over and over for her that night until you were nothing but her little angel absolutely fucked dumb.

"Shhh sweetheart you did so good for me darling" she murmured in between kissing all over your face to distract you from her pulling out. "Such a pretty cowgirl for your daddy" was what caused you to blush like a mad woman. You knew the routine Emily would get up to get a cloth and clean the strap but you didn't want her to go. But you didn't have the brain function to do more than whine at her, trying to convey what you wanted. "Shh two seconds my love, we have to clean up then I'm all yours baby."

Two seconds was all it was, and then Emily was back in before allowing you to snuggle up on her chest as her hands threaded through your beautiful hair. "So proud of you sweet girl" she whispered not expecting you to whine and mumble "disappoint you" the clearest you could. "No angel, you're my good girl, I love you my little cowgirl, you did so well baby, now rest angel, I'm right here."

Word count 1880

[espinosaurusrexex]

Heyy could you maybe do the verbal fight with bucky from the bingo thing if it isn’t finished yet? love what you write btw <3

Thank you! Also to everyone that helped with their amazing ideas. I couldn’t decide which one to write... I will definitely take another prompt from this post (you can view it as a WIP list lmao)

I had to go with the most detailed one this time because my head is literally blank. Thank you @winterarmyy 💕

Verbal Fight (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: fluff, misunderstandings, and Bucky’s sad internal monologue

Bucky’s eyes jolted open when Natasha and you laughed on the sofa next to him. He had been up for 36 hours now. But he wanted to spend time with his girl after the mission - a mission which left him with little to no sleep on top of physical exhaustion. 

His arm was resting on the couch behind you, fingers grazing your shoulder ever so slightly. It was enough to send him into a drowsy state. But as much as whatever he was doing right now neared sleep more than anything had done in the past day, he needed to go to bed. Preferably with you, cuddled up under the warm blanket, the smell of your hair in his nose and your soft body pressed into his. Bucky felt all warm just thinking about it and it plastered a small smile on his face.

“I think I'm going to hit the hay,” he said as he stood from the sofa, and waited once he had done so. 

“Ok,” you answered before your eyes wandered to him, an asking eyebrow urging him to talk again. “Anything else?”

His eyebrows raised before his hand reached out to you, a silent plea from him to just take it and follow him. You didn’t always go to bed together, but he liked to believe that you enjoyed it just as much whenever you got the chance to. “Aren’t you gonna join me?”

Your features softened once his request had passed, but you shook your head slightly. “You go ahead, I’ll be right behind ya.” And then you were back to giggling with Natasha. 

Bucky’s smile fell. He just wanted his girl in his arms and finally some sleep. Was that so too much to ask? But he didn’t want to sound desperate either. 

“Geez, clingy much Barnes?” Nat laughed before you agreed with a giggly “I know, right?” And then started whispering something with her. 

Bucky’s shoulders slumped, his heart seemingly doing the same. He just liked being with you. Especially after a mission or when he didn’t get to talk to you much. Was that clingy? Bucky thought it was normal to miss the people he cared about. You always told him you missed him when either of you was away. But apparently, he was a little too much. You had spent the entire evening together after all. 

A hoarse ‘okay’ drowned in the giggles in front of him before Bucky turned and headed to his room. How could he not have noticed that he trapped you with his presence? How long had you felt that way? All the questions were eating Bucky up inside. He couldn’t not bother, but he was hoping that his exhaustion would take care of it for now - let him sleep and forget about his racing mind. 

-❁-

Unfortunately, Bucky’s wishes remained unheard. He wasn’t sleeping. It had been 43 minutes since he tried. He knew, because every time he opened his eyes in hopes of having dreamt his newest dilemma, the watch hand of the clock on his nightstand had barely moved.

He was constantly bothered by the ways he could change his behavior. The last thing he wanted was to annoy you. But it was hard. He enjoyed your presence so much. It was new for him to feel this attached to a person, and because it felt so nice for a change, he pursued it in all the ways he could. 

It was about time it came to bite him in the ass now. Because in his experience, good things never lasted long, not for Bucky anyway. Hell, he was surprised the last four months of your relationship had gone so well. He was bound to mess up - it was in his nature...

The door to his room opened, but Bucky stayed in his position on the bed. His back turned to you, and his face pressed into the pillow frustratedly, we waited for you to just get ready and sleep. He told himself it was so he could be alone with his thoughts again, when really, he just didn’t know what to do - he needed to give you space.

Though Bucky should have known, you weren’t one to ignore an issue - and you always knew when there was one. 

The bed dipped but he didn’t move. Your hand reached out to him but he didn’t move. You attempted to turn him to you and he shook your hand off. 

“What’s wrong, Buck?” No response. It would only make it worse. 

“Come on, talk to me.” You touched his arm again and Bucky finally sat up and turned to you, eyebrows scrunched, breaths heavy. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” There was no way to navigate this. Even if Bucky were able to steer this conversation toward the revelatory outcome he wanted, he had no clue how to do it. It was better to just get space - give you space. 

But you wouldn’t budge. You scooched closer to him on the bed, halting when Bucky flinched back. When he caught your eyes then, he found hurt and confusion turning your features. It made his chest sting, his hand clammy.

“You were fine just then. What happened?” Another attempt to reach out to him but he reacted the same. You averted your eyes, picking on the covers. “You know you can tell me anything right? I’m here if you need me-“

“Well, I don’t need you.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. But how else could he tell you that he was anything but clingy? 

“You don’t mean that.”

“How would you know what I mean?!” He snapped, his effort to stay calm breaking like a dried stick between his fingers. “I feel like I don’t even know you! You don’t even want to spend time with me.”

But he didn’t miss the fire light up in your eyes at his last words and it sent a shiver through him. “Well, it’s hard when you pull yourself out of every social interaction to ever exist!” You moved away from him and he felt a pull at his heart. 

“Maybe I wouldn’t do it if you would actually pay attention to me for once!” Bucky didn’t know where that came from. There was frustration and confusion, and hurt all mixing in his brain, making it hard to distinguish intrusive from rational thoughts.

“Oh, so this is my fault?” You huffed.

“Or maybe I’m just fucking broken. Is that what you’re trying to say?! In this case, I don’t even know why you keep up with me.”

“Buck-”

“If I’m so broken why don’t you just get back to having fun with everyone else on the team and just leave me be? That’s what you do best, right? Be social! Show me how it’s done because I can’t do it. Ever!” Bucky caught a tear falling from your cheek. No. Nonono. This had not been his intention. Shit.

The room fell silent and Bucky took a deep breath. He was just angry at himself. Angry that he was incapable of connecting with people. Angry that he upset you by being clingy once he found the one person he could attach himself to.

“Alright stop it!” Another tear spilled from your eyes but something inside him was still not finished.

“Why? Is it making you uncomfortable to hear the truth?” He hadn’t intended to say it, but his mouth just opened and did. Stupid fucking mouth.

“Bucky!” He flinched once you raised your voice. You had never done it at him. Neither of you had ever fought with each other in fact. “Where the hell is this coming from?” Now your tone was softer and Bucky could feel his heart pumping blood through his body again. Yeah... where the hell was this coming from?

Bucky fumbled with the blanket. He didn’t even notice he was crying until a fat hot tear landed on the covers. He felt you shuffle closer again, relieved that he hadn’t scared you off entirely.

“Do you really think you’re broken?” You spoke so carefully, as if he were to break at any second. And honestly, that might have happened.

“It feels that way too often for it not to be true..,” he whispered ashamed. 

“Baby,” You reached out again and this time, he allowed it, needing your touch more than ever before. You pulled him into your chest, your arms encasing him as he slumped against your frame - finally exhaling, relaxing, and falling into your embrace. “Everyone feels like this from time to time. You don’t have to always be happy and confident to be normal or okay.”

Your soothing voice traveled through his exhausted haze, tears still falling from his eyes. "But it feels like I get stuck in my sorrow.”

“That is normal. I have those days, too. Nat has them, Steve does too.”

Bucky moved to look up at you, a silent request for confirmation in his stare, but this time, he felt, you understood. You probably always had.

“It’s true, babe.” Your body rocked softly and it soothed Bucky further into your soft chest. He felt the tension draining from his body, the sleeplessness replacing it in every inch of him.

“Please, talk to me when you feel like this again. I can help you. I want to help you.”

“Thank you.” He smiled weakly. How could he have ever thought you would neglect him? It was stupid, just as stupid as that attempt of his to give you more space.

“Not for this, Bucky.” You kissed his forehead, ultimately lulling Bucky into his well-deserved sleep - with a calm mind, and the promise to never let his insecurities get the better of him again. 

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[galeorderbride]

Hiii!!

I discovered your account recently, and I'm a fan! This strengthens my love for Gale even more! I have a request, is it possible to use the following prompts :

3)Touching foreheads

7) Kissing scars

11)Sharing secrets

41)Washing each other hairs

52)Crying into their shoulder

60) sitting in their lap

i will probably ask for others prompt later ahah!

thanks you so much 🖤

Thank you for the request!! I’m stoked to know I’ve helped strengthen your love for everyone’s favourite rizzard lol. And send as many prompts as you like!

Your prompt awaits:

Rated: M (Gale and Tav sharing a bath, non descriptive nudity).

Gale x F!tav

Words: 1652

...

Wash my Troubles Away

Baths were always the way Tav chose to unwind after a stressful day. Before the nautiloid, and after, although she’d been seriously lacking in access. In all honesty, she was surprised it took this long for her to break down. Months on the road, toiling through endless swaths of blood, shit and tears with the onus on them to solve everyone’s problems. At first, Tav enjoyed helping, seeing new friends suffer a little bit less in such a difficult society. Once they reached Rivington, however, her patience ran drier than a dead fountain. 

Thankfully, they found the Elfsong, where a private bathroom awaited. As soon as the fee was paid, Tav thought about taking a bath—craved it. A space to calm her muscles and cry out her troubles without drawing attention. 

Hot water flowed against her naked back, bubbling with lavender oil and sudsy soap, emanating the scent of vanilla and oat. Tav tucked her legs to her chest, curling into a ball of frustration and embarrassment as she couldn’t stop crying. Tav needed more resilience than this. Facing the end of the world required stalwart bravery, and she was having a meltdown over finding gold for a bank manager. How in the hells was she supposed to take down a giant brain? 

Meanwhile, everyone else had no problem being selfish. A toy maker set explosives in his own products, totally willing to kill children to save his own skin. Idiots tying up Volo just because he was talking about the things they wanted to ignore. Ironhand gnomes masking abusive bigotry with a shining cause. Tav was tired of everyone’s bullshit, making excuses for themselves, taking zero responsibility when she had no other option but to face problems head on. 

Her self pity was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. The sound of a lilted, erudite voice coming through the wood: 

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

Gale appeared in the doorway after Tav agreed he could enter. Holding fresh towels and a wicker basket of different bath products, looking brand new as if he’d just returned from an apothecary. Tav splashed water in her face to mask the puffiness of her eyes, as if her detail oriented wizard would ever let a thing like that get past him. 

“You seem like you could use some company. And so far, I’ve been very skilled and…calming you down, so to speak. I fetched some products from Bonecloak’s, all your favourite scents. Jasmine, pomegranate, aloe vera. If you’d prefer to be alone, know you won’t offend me. I just wanted to give you these so you know someone is thinking about you,” he said. 

Tav turned her head, grinning as best she could, easier because of his presence. Since their romance had begun, he was the only one virtually incapable of annoying her. He always knew what to say, always understood the right words or actions to keep her grounded. No one had been such a positive force in her life, and every morning, no matter how terrible, she thanked the stars for finding that unstable portal. 

“I’m not enviable company at the moment, but yours, would surely heal my weary heart,” Tav replied. 

Gale smiled, “No matter how you’re feeling, there is no one in the realms I’d rather spend my time with.” 

Times like this were when Tav didn’t believe she deserved his sweetness. Doting on her out of an adoration she couldn’t figure out. He placed the bottles on a tiny stool beside the tub, undressing so he could join her in a warm, sudsy water, snapping his fingers with a little magic to heat it back to ideal temperature. He made use of the large, circular space as he sunk in behind her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace as she rested her back onto his chest. Little hairs tickled her skin, causing her to chuckle for the first time all day. 

Careful movements of his fingertips massaging her scalp sent shivers down Tav’s spine. Scents of pomegranate and jasmine soothed her sinuses, letting the hot water pour down her head, through strands of clean hair. Tension from her muscles seemed to dissolve with each considerate touch, Gale’s hands created to caress her skin. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth as they both watched the window ahead. A clear night gifted them glimmering stars, a cool breeze whistling out of a crack in the insulation. Tav leaned back, resting her head in the crux of Gale’s shoulder as she closed her eyes. A few, stray tears fell from her eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden comfort of her magical lover lifting her through the ache of evening. 

Gale didn’t press her for reasons, didn’t rush to solve the problem when he noticed her tears. He just held her, waited in solidarity until she was ready, happy to let her sink into his life force to refresh her own. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said with a tearful chuckle, “You must think I’m ridiculous. Crying for no reason like this.” 

“Well, my love, your mind may be telling you that there is no reason, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. With all our travels, all the weight on your shoulders, you have every reason to cry. You’re more resilient than you think, I’d have crumbled long ago,” he said. 

Tav looked up at him, in utter admiration for his thoughtfulness, his beauty, everything. If she could, she’d sing his praises for a thousand years, to make up for all the times Mystra never did. Or anyone else who didn’t care to see the magnificence of him. 

Her fingers traced up his collarbone, around the mark the orb left that paved a path to his wonderful neck. A forced tattoo sunk into the surface of his skin, binding him to his well intentioned folly. Their foreheads touched as Gale lowered his head, wishing desperately that he could hold every

 part of her at the same time. Mage hands and mirror images weren’t enough, it had to be him. 

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?” He asked, words hanging on between their breaths, lips hovering over each other but never quite meeting. 

“Hmm, you’ve already told me about Mystra. And that you haven't spoken to anyone in over a year until me. Oh, and that you get excited when you see me bloody after a fight. What else could there possibly be?” She asked, flirtatiously smiling at him with her eyelids batting just the way he liked. The smirk he made when he saw it was irresistible. 

Gale chuckled, “This one is far less serious, but might be what you need to hear in this moment.” 

They adjusted slightly, Gale sitting up as he pulled his arm out of the water. Just above his elbow was a superficial scar, raised tissue blending in with the rest of his skin. An uneven line travelling up his arm, about three inches long. Wherever he got it from, it had to be years ago. 

“People don’t notice this scar much anymore, not with the giant black circle on my chest. But people used to. I’d tell them it was from a kitchen knife,” he said, “But…really I accidentally set fire to my neighbour’s rose bushes when I was a child. I was trying to conjure, and the fire got away from me. Singed my arm in the process.” 

Tav turned, scooching further onto his lap as she examined his arm. She couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your secret? Ruining a bush?” 

“Not just any bush. A rose bush. One of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I’d pass by those roses every day, stare at them for a minute or two. Just to see something be so effortlessly perfect in its imperfection. They simply grew that way, and then I destroyed them. All I could do was cry, sob over how I tarnished something so innocent and pretty for my own sake. I don’t talk about it because…well, it’s silly, but it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It’s stayed with me my entire life, and the burn scar only serves as a beacon for it,” he explained. 

“Even worse than what happened with Mystra?” She asked, grazing her fingertips across the uneven line of the scar. Eyes stuck to the mark as if it was the last thing she’d ever see. 

Gale hesitated, taking a heart wrenching pause. Tav noticed his eyes staring ahead, fixated on the window. A heavy, unsaid energy hung over him.  

“It was the catalyst. For everything. Had I not set fire to that bush, Elminster never would’ve found me. And then I’d never have attracted Mystra’s attention. A boring existence…but maybe a better one,” he said, voice trailing along the waves of his melancholic thoughts. 

Instead of responding, giving him a treatise on how he didn’t need to feel guilty anymore and burning a flower bush wasn’t a definer of his total character, she pressed her lips against the burn scar. Counting her kisses for every year of remorse he felt since setting that fire ball. Ever since their first night together, he slowly began to shed that overconfident veneer, more comfortable to show her the parts of him that hurt, the deep cuts that both of them wished they could bury. 

“Seems we both have a guilt problem,” Tav said. “Come here.” 

Tav moved to straddle his lap, taking the ceramic bowl and filling it with the warm, soapy water. Gale rested on her shoulder, as if on impulse, while she poured the liquid down the long strands of chestnut hair. Running her shampooed hands across his scalp, satisfied every time she heard his happy moans against the scratch of her nails. After rinsing, she kissed the top of his head. 

“Thank you for telling me a secret,” she said, “I’ll tell you one of mine tomorrow.”

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (25) Intuition

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 25)

Summary: Rosie's protective foursome are visiting her in Paris, Mycroft shows off his poshness, and they all meet Timothy and his parents at a well-chosen location.

Twenty-Five Years Old

The years in Paris went by too fast, and suddenly I had turned twenty-five and was graduating from uni. Sadly, both mine and Timothy’s graduation ceremonies were on the same evening, but we all had plans to meet the next day. I’ll admit that I had mixed emotions about that. My parents and uncles were to meet Timothy and his parents, and I couldn’t help thinking of all the different directions that meeting could go.

“It’ll be fine, love,” Timothy assured me. “Mum and Dad are over the moon to meet your celeb family, and I’m sure The Fab Four will behave for a few hours.”

“Ha! My intuition tells me otherwise. I wouldn’t put it past Papa to give some snarky remarks if he’s annoyed with your mother’s lipstick or your dad’s shoelaces,” I sighed.

“You know John won’t allow that, Ro,” Timothy laughed. “And your uncles are less inclined to cause any damage, I think. Relax.”

***

I had only met the Browns once before. Marie was a secondary school teacher, loved the royal family passionately, royals in general actually, and she was also a decent tennis player. Daniel was a business solicitor, loved his singing, and was quite a wine connoisseur.

“They’re both perfect conversation partners for Mycroft,” Papa informed me after I’d met them. He can share gossip from the palace with her and show off his wine cellar to Brown senior.”

Dad tried to shush him, but his efforts were nonsensical, and I was inclined to agree. 

***

Whenever uncle Myc visited Paris, he stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel George V, and for my graduation dinner, we ate at one of the hotel’s restaurants, Le Cinq. His Poshness, as Papa called him, moved through the restaurant after the maître d’ like he owned the place. Uncle’s three-piece suit had never been more appropriate. The rest of us were dressed up as well. Papa even wore a tie, which I hadn’t seen on him since my uncles’ wedding. 

The food was arranged like tiny artworks, and I felt like a vandal ruining them with the cutlery. Once the first bite reached my taste buds however, all regrets were forgotten. Each dish surpassed the other visually, and with different textures and surprising combinations of flavours. Every wine was perfectly matched with the food, and even uncle Greg, who was more of a beer lover, admitted that it was quite good, which earned him an exasperated sigh from his husband.

“How’s the job search going?” Dad asked after the third course was devoured.

“I’m expecting a few answers over the next weeks. Hopefully, something turns up,” I said.

I actually had high hopes, having already been summoned to an interview when I was returning to London the following week. Papa gave me a thoughtful look and shifted his gaze towards his brother who lifted an eyebrow just the tiniest bit, which made me sigh and swallow my remark with some excellent chardonnay.

***

To Marie’s delight, we were meeting at Versailles the next day. Neither of us wanted to take the guided tour but preferred to walk in the gigantic garden. 

“Much easier to escape if the conversation gets tedious,” Papa teased.

“Brother mine,” uncle Myc warned, more out of habit than an actual rebuke.

We had agreed to meet on the balustrade where it would be easier to spot each other. I could see that Marie was fidgety and excited, while Daniel seemed quite composed.

“Better at hiding it,” Dad remarked, which earned him an incredulous look from me and a fond chuckle from Papa.

“Is this mind reading business contagious?” I sighed and walked towards Timothy and his parents.

***

“The Fab Four are behaving,” Timothy stated. “A bit disappointing really.”

“Try refreshing,” I retorted dryly.

“Do you think Sherlock would mind if I asked him to deduce some of the people here?” Marie asked in a hushed voice, which Papa had no problem hearing.

“I don’t mind at all, Marie,” Papa interrupted with a bow. “Anyone in particular?”

And with that, Marie and Papa stuck their heads together to conspire. Daniel and Timothy looked amused, while the rest of us rolled our eyes, though I must admit it was the perfect ice breaker, and I was relieved that my intuition about Papa’s behaviour had been wrong.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

More tags in the replies

[mimisempai]

We no longer need to hold back

Summary

As Crowley enthusiastically recounts one of his sessions at the planetarium, he is amused to see that Aziraphale isn't listening at all and is staring at his lips.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Kiss #2: A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

On Ao3

Rating G -  951 words

"I have to admit, Angel, even after all these years, humans still manage to surprise me. This afternoon in the planetarium, there was a little boy who couldn't have been more than five years old, and he knew an incredible amount about stars and planets, especially Alpha Centauri! Can you believe it, Alpha Centauri, Angel!"

Crowley was telling the story of his last session in the planetarium, but it didn't take him long to notice that Aziraphale was behaving strangely. Usually when Crowley talked about his 'job', he was all ears, commenting, reacting to the demon's story, but today the angel looked completely distracted, his eyes constantly lingering on the demon's lips.

Crowley had decided to ignore him for a while and had gone on with his story, pretending not to notice.

"You know the planet where his royal smugness and my ex-boss are having their honeymoon."

This time, when he saw that Aziraphale didn't react, he asked, "Angel! Are you listening to me?"

The angel gasped in surprise, then pulled himself together and quickly replied, "Of course I'm listening to you, my dear, you know very well I hang on your every word."

Crowley turned fully to face him and said with amusement, "I rather got the impression that you were more interested in my lips than the words that came out of them."

The Angel blushed slightly and began to stammer, trying to find an explanation.

"Um... I... actually..."

As the angel searched for words, the demon brought his face close and planted a light, quick kiss on the angel's lips, then pulled away before asking cheekily, "Now that I have your undivided attention, do you think..."

He didn't have time to finish his sentence because Aziraphale had cupped his face in his hands and whispered against his lips, "You absolutely have my undivided attention. "

Then he captured the demon's lips in a kiss that was neither light nor quick. He kissed Crowley like someone who had been deprived of food for days and was finally getting his fill. Crowley, though initially surprised by the angel's eagerness, was not to be outdone and wrapped his arms around the angel's neck, returning the kiss with the same passion.

Much later, when they parted to catch their breath, Crowley asked him softly, panting, "Although I find this extremely pleasurable, will you explain to me what was going through your mind, Angel?"

Aziraphale, looking embarrassed, lowered his head and mumbled something unintelligible. 

The demon grabbed the angel's chin and lifted it as he said gently, "Angel, I didn't understand, you'll have to say it again." 

Aziraphale sighed before saying, "It's because of Nina."

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"Nina?"

"Yes, she told me she preferred it when we were pining for each other, because now we're so glued to each other that she doesn't dare come to the bookshop for fear of running into us kissing between the shelves. It seems Muriel has been talking a bit too much."

Crowley couldn't help but chuckle, but Aziraphale shook his head, "It's not funny, Crowley."

"I think it's pretty funny, actually, but it still doesn't tell me why you were so fixated on my lips that you wouldn't listen to me."

Aziraphale, still a little embarrassed, said, "Well, when you forbid yourself something, it's usually the thing you want most. It's all you can think about. That was the case with... with your lips."

Crowley laughed softly and replied, "At least you see how I've felt all these millennia..."

Aziraphale immediately replied, "You're not the only one who's felt that way, I'll have you know!"

Crowley's expression became serious again as he brushed Aziraphale's hair back, his hand lingering on the angel's cheek. He said softly, "All the more reason why we shouldn't hold back another minute. No matter what others say."

Aziraphale thought for a moment before nodding.

"You're right, I'm sorry, that was really silly."

Crowley shook his head and replied, "No, not silly, just a little too self aware, and then I admit it was cute to see you distracted like that."

Aziraphale replied, "It's all right now, you can get on with your session at the planetarium."

Crowley shook his head again and, moving his face closer to the angel's, replied, "I don't feel like it now, I've found a much more interesting activity."

He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to the angel's for another kiss, Alpha Centauri and the planetarium far from their minds as it lingered.

"Aziraphale! Crowley! Are you in there? I think so if the door is open!"

Both startled, they separated at Nina's voice and both stood up, quickly putting their clothes back in order before going to meet her.

The owner of the coffee shop wasn't fooled though, and pointing to the coffees and cakes in her hands she exclaimed, "I thought I'd come to make amends because Maggie pointed out that I'd been insensitive earlier, but it turns out I was right!"

Crowley put his arm around Aziraphale's neck and cheekily replied, "Do you have a problem with that? If you're jealous, do the same with Maggie!"

"Idiot, that's called self-control."

Crowley replied, "When you've held back as long as we have, we'll talk again about self-control."

Then, ignoring Nina, he pressed his lips to Aziraphale's for another kiss.

Nina, surprised that for once she hadn't had the last word, placed the coffees and cakes on a piece of furniture, then turned on her heels and gently closed the door behind her as the angel and the demon continued to kiss.

One thing was for sure: life on Whickber Street had never been dull since these two had been together.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 7 - Prompt: Smooth @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 946 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

“He’s my best friend, who just walked in with a black eye and limp.” The text from Lily was an odd response to his question. He didn’t remember Remus having a limp or a black eye when he saw him an hour ago.

Sirius frowned at his mobile, trying to make sense of it. Either the bloke he’d met wasn’t Remus Lupin, was a different Remus Lupin, or the man ended up in a row between then and now. He wasn’t sure which option he preferred, they all sucked.

He shrugged, then texted back, “That’s strange.”

It wasn’t vitally important at the moment. Curious and confusing, but not important. What was important was James and Regulus attacking each other’s faces in a small wooded area outside of the Inn.

He initially planned to ignore them and head inside with Padfoot, but after wrangling the dog away from a furious sausage cart owner, Sirius needed a little fun to balance things out. Taking the piss out of his best friend and brother was a little too convenient to pass up.

“Oi! Don’t forget to breathe!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Wouldn’t want Reggie to pass out.”

As expected, James laughed and ducked his head into Regulus’s shoulder. His brother aimed a glare at him that should have severed his head, a smooth cut straight through the bone. Sirius grinned and held two thumbs up.

“You’re doing great, Reggie! So proud of you!”

James was a lost cause. He shook with silent laughter and barely kept himself upright with his hands on the tree behind Regulus’s head. His brother, on the other hand, looked murderous.

Perfect distraction.

“Sirius, if you don’t fuck right off-” Regulus began, cutting himself short as he hid behind James.

He followed his brother’s panicked gaze to an open third floor window. Sirius waved at Monty with a delighted trill. James’s dad had a perfect view of the snogging pair and given his shit-eating grin, likely hadn’t missed it.

“Effie! I think James won him over,” Monty called loudly over his shoulder.

“Oh?”

“They’re snogging in the snow!”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Effie appeared at the window a moment later. “Congratulations you two! We’ll celebrate at dinner.”

Regulus’s face was nearly fuschia. Sirius couldn’t contain his laughter, it vibrated through him until it spilled over in a loud bark that wasn’t dissimilar from Padfoot’s. He leaned down and hugged the dog for support.

“Wait, Regulus! Don’t kill him.”

James’s yell was a warning and Sirius heeded it without hesitation. With his homicidal brother stomping towards him, he bolted inside the Inn with Padfoot on his heels. He was still laughing, but he did have some sense of self-preservation.

The noisy clomps of his boots were followed by skittering dog claws, and a pair of equally loud footsteps further down the stairs. A mental image of the four of them chasing each other was hysterically funny and it was all he could do to stay upright. Padfoot let out happy barks every few stairs, leaping ahead, then behind him.

“Heel, Padfoot!” Regulus ordered sharply.

To Sirius’s surprise, the dog did. Padfoot dropped onto his bottom and held firm when he tried to drag him up the stairs. Eyeing the incoming rage-filled face, he abandoned Padfoot to James and raced up the stairs.

“Traitor!” he yelled.

Padfoot greeted Regulus with a big grin, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His brother patted the dog’s head as he stormed past. “Good boy.”

Sirius tripped on the last step when he saw James’s reaction. He’d reached out for Padfoot’s leash, but after Regulus’s praise, he promptly face-planted into the dog’s fur. Howling with renewed laughter, Sirius threw open the door and bounded down the hallway.

“Sirius! Get back here!”

“Come and get me!”

The key to defeating Regulus was to stay ahead of him. If he could remain out of reach, his brother would simply threaten him instead of ripping his hair out. The thrill of the chase was always his favourite part though. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he jammed the key card into the slot.

“James! Save me!” he teased, running into the room.

A derisive snort sounded before his brother grabbed the edge of the door. Sirius’s laughter died on his tongue when Regulus slammed it shut and threw the chain lock, barring James from following him in.

“Shite,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh, you are in a world of shite,” Regulus retorted, flicking his pocket knife open. “I think you’re due for a haircut, grand frère.”

“No! No! No!” Sirius yelped, running across the beds. He was faster than Regulus, but not by much. “Stay away from my hair!”

Regulus grunted when he slipped on a blanket, then stopped to wrench off his boots and socks angrily. Barefoot, he leapt over the next bed with wild eyes and the knife outstretched. Sirius led him on a frantic chase around the room.

“Hey! Who put the chain on? Sirius? Regulus? Let me in!” James called through the gap.

“Help me! He has a knife!”

“Get…back…here,” Regulus wheezed, tugging at the collar of his shirt, “you prick!”

James banged on the door with both fists. “Open this door or I’ll knock it down!”

Sirius was relieved to see his brother lagging behind as he gulped down air. When he spotted an opening, he raced to the door and released the chain. Immediately, James burst inside with a panicked expression.

“Are you okay? Is he?”

Regulus waved him off and collapsed on a bed with a gasp. “Fuck off…both of…you.”

“I win!”

James stared at them, bewildered. “What the actual fuck?”

[bobbole]

Saviour (November One Word Writing Prompts)

the corinthan x daniel hall // nsfw

He was not unfamiliar with a certain kind of restlessness, but the one he was feeling in those days was something different, something purely physical, expression of a urge that had been dormant for too much time. Put simply, he really needed to fuck.

This had actually been pointed out to him even by some celebrities whose intelligence he would never have suspected. Like Matthew, who after receiving another rude reply had shouted at him -Maybe you should get laid and calm down!- or Cain, who after a less than friendly exchange of banter had exclaimed -Get someone to suck you off, you're too nervous!-

The point of the matter, the real problem, was that the Corinthian knew perfectly well that a shag would do him a lot of good, and he was definitely craving one too, but getting a chance to do it was not easy at all. Work schedules were awful, even jerking off alone had become complicated, and frustration was growing, as was his bad mood. He wanted to get a real, truly satisfying fuck, something that would finally get him to let off steam. Sticking his cock in a nice, beautiful, tight ass would have been the solution, and he also knew who had just the perfect ass, the one of his desires, but he didn't even dare to think about the name of the subject in question for fear he might read his thoughts (even though he had solemnly promised him that, at least in his rooms, the Corinthian would have his privacy respected). Since the object of his desires was out of question, and the adventures of his predecessor were totally unattainable, he decided to take matters into his own hands (in every sense of the word), do what he had to do himself and think no more about it.

He sat down in the large leather armchair he had placed in a corner of the room that he used as his atelier and lit a cigarette, placing it in the ashtray on the coffee table beside: that was all the time he had. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the part of his mind he liked to call ‘the blank canvas’, the part where he could create his stories without fear of them being seen by the Dream King. He could think something little, pleasant, really pleasant, something....

There was a knock at the door.

The Corinthian opened his eyes again and snorted in exasperation: if it was Matthew, he was going to cut his bloody head off!

He jumped up out of the armchair and headed annoyed towards the door, ready to cover that bird with insults, but enormous was his surprise when he saw Dream himself on his doorstep.

-My Lord!-

-Corinthian-

How strange, Daniel had never visited him in his quarters before...

Then he realized: he was already in his story! Damn it, he had promised himself a thousand times not to think of Daniel in that kind of dreams, and now there he was in front of him, dressed even in the robe that the Corinthian preferred, that long white tunic as light as a cloud, which left one shoulder widely uncovered. How many times, standing beside the King of Dreams, had he secretely followed with his gaze the soft curve of that shoulder that seemed to be waiting for nothing more than to be bitten. He felt strongly within him the desire, the urge to reach out towards that skin left brazenly bare. It was definitely a risk and Daniel, no matter how much he promised not to do it, could see that dream, but he was too eager and it was too late. The story had begun.

-My Lord, why are you here? Has something happened?-

Daniel smiled sweetly.

-I think you need my help. May I come in?-

He could have interrupted the story there, but instead he respectfully stepped aside.

The appartment was not very big and the most beautiful and brightest room was the atelier. Daniel headed straight there and wandered around a bit, looking at the canvases the Corinthian had hung on the wall. The Nightmare joined him, standing a short distance away.

-So many drawings of me, but you dream of me so few times-

-If I dreamed of you too often you would understand what I want, it's a risk I cannot take-

He would never have allowed himself to speak to his Lord at that disrespectful distance, but that was a secret story and he could do anything he wanted. Daniel turned to look at him, very close to his face, placing gently an hand on the Nightmare's cheek.

-Tell me what you want-

The Corinthian grasped that hand and began to kiss it. Long, dirty, voluptuous kisses on that perfumed skin. He encircled Daniel's hips with his other arm, pulling him closer. The Dream King's body was finally there in his arms, and he sensed its shape perfectly through the thin dress.

Daniel's other hand settle on the Nightmare's turgid dick, begin to caress it sensually from above his jeans, and the Corinthian moaned against the palm of his Lord's hand, increasing the force of his kisses, nibbling the thin skin of the wrist, without hurting it. It seemed that blood was really flowing in those veins, and he was amazed at the absolute perfection with which he had managed to reproduce Daniel in that story, almost as if the real one was there. The Corinthian wanted to devour him.

Daniel meanwhile became bolder. He slipped his hand inside the Corinthian's trousers, stroking his sex more forcefully. The King of Dreams watched mesmerized as his Nightmare kissed and sucked on the fingers of the hand still in his possession, lingering obscenely with his tongue in the spaces between the fingers. He let out a sound of angry disappointment when his hand was abandoned, but was the shoulder's turn, that shoulder that constituted a daily temptation, and there the Corinthian rushed voraciously, kissing and sucking and biting the bare skin. He would have loved to leave it like that, with the marks of his kisses and bites.

-Wait-

The Corinthian stopped, unwillingly, not before giving him one last bite on the shoulder.

-Sit there-

The Nightmare did as he was ordered and took his seat in the armchair. An intense, ravenous light shone in the Dream King's eyes. The white dress that covered him fell into a soft mass at his feet, allowing the Nightmare to finally enjoy the sight of Daniel's naked body. There, between the drawings and the large black and red canvas, he looked like the most beautiful work of art .

-Did you think I didn't know?-

-What?-

-That you try not to have certain kinds of dreams? The echo of what you desire still comes to me, sometimes so loud that it's embarrassing you haven't told me yet–

Daniel approached him, slow and sinuous. With a quick wave of his hand, the Corinthian shed his clothes and spread his legs, letting his King kneel before him, an amazing vision before which the small mouths of his eyes exulted with indecent sounds. He took off his glasses, placing them on the small table nearby. The cigarette had not yet gone out, he still had time.

Daniel's hands caressed his legs. He felt the nails on his skin like sharp claws. His smile was loving. Dangerous.

-If you knew exactly what I would like to do to you, I don't think you would let me stay by your side any longer–

-On the contrary, if you spoke to me I would invite you to my chambers–

The Corinthian grinned, even though a small part of him thought it was just a pity that all that staging was not true. It was a truly perfect fantasy anyway, and he wanted to stay there as long as possible.

Daniel started kissing his thighs, lingering where the skin was most sensitive, getting closer and closer to the Nightmare's erect cock. The Corinthian closed his eyes and relaxed in the armchair, letting his King take care of him.

-You don't know how many times I wanted to fuck you in the throne room, during those boring hearings. To lift your robe and have you sit on my cock, or to kneel and give you a blowjob in front of everyone–

Again a smile, lips moving against his skin. That white hair tickled him delightfully.

-Can you make me a promise, Little Nightmare?-

-Anything for you, my Lord–

Daniel stopped kissing him and positioned himself better between his legs.

-Do it next time–

Before the Corinthian could realize what he had promised to do, Daniel took the Nightmare's sex in his mouth and began to suck it. The Corinthian let himself go, moaning without restraint, going crazy behind the movements of that exquisite tongue. He threaded the fingers of his hands through Daniel's hair, stroking it, guiding the rhythm as he liked. The claws, now embedded in his flesh, were smeared with blood. Pain made him enjoy everything even more.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he saw that the cigarette was almost running out.

-Daniel...ah....Daniel....wait–

Daniel stopped, decidedly displeased. The Corinthian could not resist those soft, pouty lips and bent to kiss them eagerly. They stood up, clinging to each other, touching, biting. Even in the gestures of that Daniel, who was nothing but a vision, there was now urgency, as if they both felt that time was running out.

The Corinthian pushed him towards the wall, imprisoning him with his body. He squeezed Daniel's sex and began to pumping it between his fingers, enjoying the moans of pleasure from his Lord, who clawing at the skin of his shoulders with his nails. He wondered what Daniel's face really looked like, outside of that story built up in his mind, during the intense moments before orgasm. He moved his hand more forcefully, stopping only when he realized he was about to take him over the edge. He smiled at Daniel's growl of rage, and interrupted his swearing with another long kiss.

-Little Nightmare, you shouldn't torment your King like this-

-It is you who torments me. You're always in my mind–

Daniel took revenge by biting the Corinthian's lower lip hard, ardently sucking the blood that flowed from that new wound. He tried to regain control over him, but the Nightmare forcefully grabbed his wrists, pulling him away just long enough to turn him around, just long enough to get him ready, because that was how the Corinthian wanted to come, inside Daniel, dirtying that ass and those thighs with his seed, marking him as his even if he wasn't there with him. Even if he was only a fantasy. Daniel bent meekly, to better meet his Nightmare's thrusts, to better allow the Corinthian to enter him. Perhaps it was all far too perfect to be just a dreamlike projection of his desire. Daniel's hips in his hands, clenched, stroked, pushed back and forth to meet his thrusts; the lovely, obscene moans of pleasure that came out of Daniel's mouth: everything felt too real to be just a story secretly invented in a part of his mind. Then his Lord's body tightened around him, before letting go a sublime and powerful pleasure, and this erased even that residue of rational thought that had remained in the Nightmare's mind. He began to thrust harder, violently, clutching his King as if he were his own and no one else's, coming with a fierce cry that was also a declaration of love. Who knows if any of those words were actually in danger of being heard by the Dream Lord.

He slowly stepped out of that precious body, feeling something euphoric and cathartic inside. Daniel embraced him, whispering silent words that he didn't understand, and the Corinthian savoured the last moments of that story to place a chaste kiss on his beloved's hair. Then the cigarette went out and he was again sitting in the armchair of his studio, fully dressed as if nothing had happened but definitely calmer and more relaxed. It was time to get back to work.

He reached the throne room just in time for the hearing of that day. He thought about what the Daniel from his dream had made him promise and crossed the large hall, chuckling to himself. He imagined Lucien's face if he ever saw the Corinthian giving Daniel a blowjob in the middle of an official meeting. The bloody librarian would have died of rage and that would have been a double pleasure for the Nightmare: to fuck his master and see Lucien die. The librarian in question looked at him ruefully, barely greeting him with a nod of his head. Matthew was still not around, the Dream Lord was late.

He took his place near the throne just before Daniel arrived, dressed in the same white, flowing robe he had worn in his dream. This surprised him and not a little.

-My Lord-

-Corinthian-

Daniel took his seat. The Corinthian looked at his bare shoulder and with great surprise saw that there was red stains on it, as if someone had bitten it not long before. Daniel turned to look at him, smiling as if they both shared a secret, and in that moment the Corinthian realized with absolute terror and absolute delight that the Daniel in his story before had not just been a projection of his desire.

-I know for a fact that this will be one of the most boring hearing ever. I hope you will fulfil the promise you made to me earlier-

[arcsimper5]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but I saw you reblog those prompts and I was wondering if I could get

“Can we please kiss? I’ve been wanting to kiss you since we left that place.”

With Echo or a clone of your choice (whoever you think the prompt fits the best with). Obviously you don’t have to so please don’t feel pressured to do so. Thank you and have a good day and drink water it’s important

Thank you so much for the prompt!

I went with Hardcase, as I just felt it fit quite nicely!

I hope you like it!

Pairing: Hardcase x Jedi!Reader Word count: 3282 Rating: M (suggestiveness, tiny amount of blood, injury, peril, innuendo, angst, tongue kissing, pining)

“Well this is new!”

Hardcase was practically trembling with excitement as the stone wall in front of you slid into the floor, revealing an old, cobwebbed tunnel deeper into the ancient temple, his grin practically palpable under his helmet.

“Focus, Case,” you reminded him gently, igniting your lightsaber, the cool blue glow bouncing off the walls, illuminating the cracked stones that made up the floor, “we’re here to investigate, remember?”

“But this is like a real treasure hunt!” he laughed, adjusting his grip on his blaster, bouncing on his heels as he waited for you to take the lead, “It’s exciting!”

“More exciting than mowing down battalions of battle droids?” you teased softly, flushing when the trooper nodded. In all honesty, you’d been somewhat surprised when Hardcase had volunteered to accompany you on a recon mission, knowing he much preferred action.

“Huh,” he chuckled, “not quite, but the company is definitely better.”

“Are you flirting?” you asked a little incredulously, barely holding in a nervous giggle.

Out of all of the men you worked with on a regular basis, Hardcase had quickly become one of your favourites. While most saw only a hyperactive, battle-hungry clone trooper with a limited attention span, you’d come to know him as kind, surprisingly gentle, generous, brave and incredibly smart.

In fact, he had been the one to unlock the wall you’d just passed through, figuring out a pressure puzzle with little effort.

“I, uh… Am I allowed?” he asked nervously, a soft click sounding as he unclipped his helmet with his free hand, deftly clipping it onto his belt. The moment you saw his face again, your heart fluttered, cheeks flushing brightly.

Like all clones, he was extraordinarily handsome, but there was something about him that set him apart from his brothers, a youthful energy that permeated every cell of his being, made him look brighter than everyone else. That, and you loved his tattoos, often wondering how far down his body they went.

If they continued over his chest and stomach, what it would be like to trace your finger along the lines, how he would shudder under your touch…

“If you don’t want me to, I… I can stop?”

His offer drew you back to the present, blinking the fantasy away as you shook your head, hoping he couldn’t see how red your cheeks were in the dim light as you giggled again, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I don’t mind,” you murmured, “but just a warning, I give as good as I get.”

“Oh?” Hardcase raised an eyebrow, his grin firmly back in place. “Miss perfect little Jedi isn’t so perfect after all?”

“I never said that,” you teased with a wink, Hardcase’s gaze darkening a little, his pupils dilating, “I just don’t mind a hot guy paying me compliments is all.”

Another smirk crossed Hardcase’s lips, as he shifted a little closer, walking right next to you in the small space as you continued into the tunnel.

“You think I’m hot?”

Another bolt of nervousness shot through you, followed by the heat of embarrassment and something else…

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about him in that way, in the loneliness of your quarters, laying in your bunk in search of sleep. Of course your mind would wander… it was only natural.

Your silence seemed to be enough of an answer for Hardcase, his grin widening even more as he swept his hand over his head, pretending to sweep back hair.

“Hmm… hot enough for a Jedi, huh? Now there’s an accolade I can get behind.”

“Oh kriff you,” you mumbled, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“If you insist,” Hardcase retorted without missing a beat, chuckling at your reaction. “What happened to ‘giving as good as you get’, huh?”

You were about to respond when an odd looking stone slab in front of Hardcase’s path caught your attention, a gasp caught in your lungs as you tried to warn him, all too late as he placed his foot squarely on it, the floor immediately giving way.

“Hardcase!”

He let out a scream as he fell, your body instantly following him into the hole in the ground without hesitation. Reaching out with the Force, you felt him below you, tugging at the tendrils of energy, wrapping them around him, pulling him to a halt just above the ground.

Carefully, slowly, you lowered the both of you down, onto the pile of rubble created by the collapse, Hardcase reaching out to grab your arm immediately, his eyes wide.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he questioned urgently, patting down your arms, checking your robes for any tears.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you reassured him breathlessly, noting a small gash on the top of his head, a trickle of blood oozing sluggishly from it. “Are you?”

He flinched as you dragged your fingertip just below the cut, exhaling deeply as you willed the Force to heal it, watching as the skin knitted together perfectly, all signs of the injury immediately gone.

“Wow… That was… Have you ever done that, like, during sex?”

The question caught you completely off guard, your eyes widening before you doubled over with laughter, tears springing to your eyes.

“Case, we’ve just fallen down a hole in an abandoned temple, almost died, and you’re asking me if I’ve ever used the Force during sex?”

Looking almost offended, he tilted his head to the side, frowning.

“Well… Have you?”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a huff of laughter, pulling your comm out of your pocket and flicking it open, trying not to laugh as a channel opened.

“Master Skywalker,” you smiled as Anakin answered the other end, his small holographic form flickering in the darkness, “just to let you know, we’ve run into some… issues. We’re working to find our way out of the temple, but it looks like the relic room is too dangerous to get to at the moment.”

“Roger that,” Anakin smiled, letting out a soft sigh, “should have known better than to think this would be easy. You guys need any help?”

You smiled at Hardcase, his gaze averting as he flushed a little, your own laughter barely contained.

“No, we should be fine, we’re just…”

“Mesh’la, look out!”

Before you could even answer Hardcase, he was barrelling into you, strong arms wrapping around your waist, plastoid digging into you through your clothing as he dived with you, just in time to stop your body being crushed by another set of falling bricks from above, dust clouds rising through the darkness.

Your comm slipped from your grasp, clattering to the ground and into pieces as the rocks tumbled from where they fell, crushing it thoroughly.

Once the shock had subsided, you felt gloves hands running over you again, a ringing in your ears slowly fading, Hardcase’s worried voice cutting through the static.

“Mesh’la? Are you okay? Maker, that was close. Hey, can you hear me? Did you hit your head? I tried to stop it, but…”

“Case,” you murmured, wincing as you moved to sit up, your back definitely bruised where you’d hit the floor, “I’m fine, really.”

Shooting you an unconvinced look, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, the motion gentle and tentative, and one you were utterly grateful for as your leg gave out, pain racing up your leg from your ankle.

A cry of pain left you before you could stop it, Hardcase taking your entire weight easily as you fell back, catching you and lowering you down onto the ground, careful to avoid any rocks.

“Yeah, you’re not fine,” he huffed, “time to rest, tough girl.”

Letting out a whine, you glared at him through the darkness, panic suddenly rising through you.

“My lightsaber, I dropped it when I fell!”

Hardcase let out a soft laugh, earning him another glare as he cautiously released his hold on you, unclipping his helmet and sliding it back onto his head, turning on the navigation lights. You raised a hand to shield your eyes from the piercing light, lowering it once he turned away, murmuring a soft apology.

“I’ll find it,” he reassured you in a tone so gentle, it almost made you question if this was the same trooper you were joking with mere minutes ago, “but first, we’re gonna patch you up and get a fire going, okay?”

“Fire?” you spluttered, confused.

“Yes, fire. Hot thing that puts out heat, you know?”

“I know what a fire is, Case,” you frowned, earning you another soft laugh, the sound making your heart flutter.

You watched in the light from his helmet as he shifted his pack from his shoulders, laying it on the ground and pulling out a small metal box, his gloved fingers working deftly as he opened it up and pressed a few buttons, a flame flickering to life from the inside.

“There we go, that’ll settle in a moment,” he reassured you as he shuffled to your other side, placing the contained flame close enough to heat you but not close enough to be a danger. The warmth of it immediately seeped into your skin, a shiver running through you as Hardcase moved back to his pack, careful not to aim his lights at your face.

“Right. Ankle next,” he nodded to himself, pulling out a small medpack, your eyebrows raising.

“I always wondered what you kept in there,” you chuckled softly, the trooper catching himself before he looked up and blinded you with his lights again.

“Oh, this isn’t what I usually carry. Usually it’s more blasters, ammo packs, lube, condoms, sex toys, you know, combat stuff.”

“Har-de-har,” you deadpanned as he giggled, pulling out a roll of bandages and a small bacta pack.

“I’ll need you to lift your robes, m’lady,” he instructed, his grin evident even through his modulator,

“Without even buying me dinner first?” you gasped in faux dismay, grinning at him as Hardcase watched you roll the fabric up, then moving to do the same with your trouser leg.

“I can still do that when we get out of here, if you want,” he said plainly, his voice suddenly far too even, your heart fluttering.

“You don’t have any credits,” you smiled weakly, sadness striking your heart as Hardcase sighed and shrugged.

“Would still take you somewhere nice.”

It struck you that he suddenly wasn’t joking, that he actually meant it.

“Case,” you breathed as he tore open the bacta packet and smoothed it over your ankle, his touch tender and careful, unwinding the bandages next and pulling them tightly to your skin, using the adhesive edge to seal it once he was done.

“Better?” he asked, packing away the empty packets.

But your focus was no longer on your ankle, your throat tight as you swallowed, mind reeling.

“Case,” you called again, the trooper freezing where he was now crouched over his pack, reorganising it.

Heaving a sigh, he resigned himself to whatever came next, shoulders slumping as he stood up and turned back to you, switching off his lights as he did.

“Yeah?”

“C’mere,” you beckoned him closer, “come sit with me.”

The shake of his head betrayed his hesitation, another sigh leaving him.

“Gotta find your lightsaber,” he murmured, “I’ll…”

“Rina’s diner.”

You could almost imagine the shocked expression on his face as his head snapped round to look at you, simply staring.

“W-What?”

“Rina’s diner,” you repeated with a nervous smile. “They serve Clones and Jedi, part funded by the Republic. We don’t need credits to go out. We could… We could go there.”

The silence that followed your statement seemed to drag on forever, the crackling of the fire and Hardcase’s modulated breathing the only sounds around you until he reached up to his helmet once again, pulling it off with a soft ‘whoosh’.

“You’re… serious?” he mumbled, barely able to meet you gaze, the nervousness in his expression making your heart clench, “You’d… go out for dinner? With me?”

Nodding, you swallowed hard, pushing down your own nerves.

“When we get out of here, I’d love to, Case. You’re…”

You trailed off, lost for words as he bent down in front of you, one gloved hand moving to cup your face, his thumb brushing over his chin.

For a moment, he simply fixed you with an intense gaze, your heart fluttering almost violently in your chest, breathing ragged as he leaned in a little closer, his eyes flicking to your lips.

Your eyes slipped closed, a soft whimper leaving your lips as his breath ghosted across your skin, a shiver running through your entire body. Pursing your lips, you steeled yourself, only to have him press the tiniest peck at the edge of your mouth, his turned up in a shit-eating grin.

“What… What was that?” you questioned sharply as he pulled away, barely holding back giggles.

“You think I’m giving myself away on the first date?” he smirked, letting out a huff of fake annoyance, “I’m not a whore, mesh’la.”

“This isn’t a date, Case,” you reminded him sternly, glaring at him, your mouth tingling where his lips had brushed yours.

“To your knowledge,” he chuckled as he donned his helmet once more, turning around and reactivating his lights. Almost immediately, he stepped into the darkness, making a triumphant noise. Within moments, he returned to the fireside, removing his bucket once more and passing you your lightsaber, his expression a swirl of emotions. “Maybe I set all of this up just to get you alone? And I know we don’t exactly have candle light, but…”

“Case,” you sighed, shaking your head. He turned to look at you, eyes wide. “You… I thought… you were going to…”

You trailed off as embarrassment flooded you, tears pricking at your eyes. You felt so confused, so conflicted. The way you felt went against everything you’d been taught by the Jedi, and yet you were willing to take the risk. But his teasing hurt in a way you couldn’t explain, an ache in your chest that seemed to numb your limbs.

“Do you not… want to?”

Hardcase’s eyes went wide with realisation, his hands immediately seeking yours, thumbs stroking over fingers as he held them, swallowing hard before his eyes met yours once more, pained at seeing the tears there.

“No, no, mesh’la, I… I want… I… I’m… scared. I’ve never…”

He breathed out a frustrated sigh, frowning at himself.

“Look, I… I’m just a clone. I’m not… different. I’m just… I’m hyperactive, and annoying, and even my vode can’t stand me sometimes, and…”

“Hardcase. Shut up.”

He stared at you in shock, mouth slightly agape.

“You are none of those things,” you breathed, heart fluttering as he sat on the floor in front of you, swallowing hard. “You are brave, smart, kind and so, so funny. I treasure my time with you, I miss you when I’m not with you. You make me feel… seen. Understood. You treat me like a friend, not just a Commander, not just a Jedi. You’re so much more than you could ever know. I… I care about you. A lot. And I…”

You held your breath as he leant in closer, the nervousness in his gaze not lost on you.

“You what?” he prompted, eyes darting between yours and your lips again, his tongue darting out for a moment, his breath hitching.

“I…” 

Your confidence faltered as his breath washed over your face again, another pleasant shiver running up your spine.

“Tell me, mesh’la,” he pleaded, desperation lacing his tone, “please.”

“Hardcase,” you breathed, his lips mere inches from yours now, your whole body trembling with anticipation, “I…”

A sudden light from above had you leaping apart, frustration and relief rushing over you in equal measure.

“Commander! Hardcase! Can you hear me?”

The familiar voice rang out above you as you looked up, shielding your eyes from the brightness that now flooded the collapsed area below the tunnel.

“Yeah, Rex, we hear you!” Hardcase called back, forcing a smile. “The Commander’s injured, but I’ve taken care of it. She’s stable.”

“Atta boy, Hardcase,” Rex chuckled, “hold tight. We’ll have you out in a minute.”

“Great,” the trooper grimaced, shooting once last look of longing down at you as cables began descending into the crevasse before he pulled his helmet on, moving to extinguish the flames in his survival pack. “Just great.”

*-*-*

Your trip to medbay had been a short one, checked over and okayed by Kix, given painkillers and sent on your way.

After your debrief, you headed for the mess, eyes searching for a familiar tattoo, trying to push down the disappointment you felt when Hardcase was no-where to be seen.

You wandered the halls of the Venator for a time, passing by the training rooms and common areas, greeting the troopers you passed, but still, there was no sign of him.

It wasn’t until you’d finally given up your search and returned to your private quarters that a familiar outline had caught your attention, Hardcase sat on one of the large window ledges that looked out into the blue glow of hyperspace. Dressed in only his blacks and lower armour, he seemed a little smaller, your heart constricting in your chest as you took him in, watching the play of blue light across his features, his eyes wide with wonder.

“Hey,” you called softly as you approached him, making him jump. Within moments, he was scrambling to his feet, gaze locked on you, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“You… You have?” he asked cautiously, eyes darting all over your face, almost avoiding your gaze. “I… I wanted to check in on you, make sure you were okay after…”

He trailed off, swallowing again as his eyes finally met yours, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Look, I… I wanted to apologise, for the tunnel, and I…” 

He sighed, shaking his head, looking away for a moment.

“Case,” you began, stopping dead when he held a hand up, rolling his head back before fixing his gaze on yours again, letting out a frustrated groan.

“No, no, please, I need… I need to tell you. I… I like you, a lot. Like a lot, and… I’m an idiot,” he sighed, clenching his jaw. “I… Just… Can we please kiss? I’ve been wanting to kiss you since we left that place. Well, since before, actually, but I… I didn’t know how to… and I…”

You cut him off as you crashed your lips into his, the sensation sending pleasant bolts of arousal and relief through your entire body, your arms moving up to wrap around his shoulders as his smoothed up your back, pulling you against him.

The feeling was utterly divine, his lips so soft and pliant as your tongues began to dance together, a groan torn from his throat.

“H-Holy kriff,” he breathed as you finally parted, his eyes blown wide, breath coming in pants as you stood, simply holding each other, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “Can we… can we do it again? That was…”

“Get inside,” you ordered as you pulled him towards the door to your quarters, his mouth seeking yours once again as your stumbled backwards, searching for your keycard, licking into his mouth while you fell against the durasteel, his hips rocking against yours, desperation taking over him.

“Yes, Commander,” he grinned, yelping as he fell backwards through the door, your body crashing down on top of him, both giggling wildly as you slammed the door shut behind you, locking yourselves away from the rest of the world.

[happy-beeeps]

Slip of the Tongue

WC: 1.3k

Pairing: PoexMando!reader (Mando a la Sabine, not Din)

Prompt: “You look so pretty” “What did you say?” “I said you look shitty.” from @ghostofskywalker fic exchange because I saw someone write Tech with this prompt and it changed my life.

Warnings: language I guess, but that’s it! Pure fluff~

A/N: This is a oneshot, but I’m gonna start writing more for this pairing soon, I think!

“My favorite thing about you is that you continuously surprise me every day with the new ways you manage to be so stupid.” You say, barely audible over the sound of the power tool Poe is using on one of the open consoles in the Falcon. He cranes his neck over to where you’re at, suspended by a harness working on the ceiling of the ship, head angled towards him.

“And you surprise me everyday with just how romantic you can actually be.” He chirps back, sending you a wink as he gets back to work. You’re grateful he can’t see your expression now beneath your helmet, the glare you’re shooting at him and the rising blush on your cheeks.

Your work on the Falcon seems to neverend, and despite you and Poe’s mutual deep seeded hatred for one another, he’s begrudgingly told you that he “respects your craftsmanship” and refuses to take the Falcon to any other mech in the Resistance. You, in turn, get the immense privilege of working on the ship of your childhood dreams, learning the ins and outs of the hunk of metal. Besides, with Poe comes BB-8, Rey, and Finn, and you much prefer his team to the pilot himself. Today, unfortunately, Poe’s fancy flying has not only placed the Falcon in need of medical attention, but Finn as well, and you’re left alone with Poe to work on the fried circuitry and damaged hyperdrive. 

���What was it this time? Hyperdrive jumping?”

“Correction. I was avoiding hyperdrive jumping by gravity launching, you know, going in and out of the different moons and propelling myself forward with it.”

“Both an impressive technique and an impressive failure.” You sigh, and he pokes his head out to peak at you. 

“What’s it gonna take to impress you, huh Mando?”

You cringe at the nickname. Well, not as much cringe as you do blush, but still. “I’ll be impressed when you can get her back to me in one piece.”

He smirks, “Yeah, but then I don’t have any excuse to come see you.” When you don’t respond at first he continues, “I bet your helmet is getting steamy just thinking about me.”

He narrowly avoids the wrench you throw at his head.

Poe is remarkably frustrating, he has the unique ability of getting under your skin more than nearly anyone you know, and you’ve worked with Mandalorian coverts and Imperials. It also doesn’t help that he’s sickeningly attractive, and knows it, and you can’t help but wonder if you didn’t hate him so much if you could love him. He’s clearly got a soft side, BB-8 is the most precious droid in the world and follows him around like his shadow, and you’ve never known Finn or Rey to be a bad judge of character. Still, there’s something so aggravating about him that you can barely stand to be in his presence. Then, just as he steps back from the spot near the wall to admire his work, you see him in all his glory, and it dawns on you. Poe is remarkably beautiful. His sleeves are pushed up past his elbows, and his curls are flopping haphazardly around his face, partially slicked back with sweat, and despite it you have a fleeting feeling of wanting to run your hands through his hair. His shirt hangs open in the front and clings to his chest, and he has grease coating his hands and running up his arms, and it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, as if that was possible. 

“You are so pretty” you whisper, then clamp your lips together and pray it was soft enough that it doesn’t get picked up by the modulator in your helmet. Fate is not on your side today, however, and Poe glances at you with wide eyes and a smile.

“What did you say?”

“I said you look shitty.” You respond, voice hurried and nervous. 

He doesn’t buy it, not for a moment, and walks over to where you’re suspended, placing a grease covered hand on the cheek of your helmet. “You sure about that, mando?” Before walking down the ramp of the ship and towards the base. You let go a sigh you hadn’t realized you were holding before removing your helmet, and sure enough, inspecting the large grease-print he’s left on your beskar. 

“Dank ferric, Dameron.” You hiss, but he’s already gone.

* * *

You’re in your quarters, scrubbing away at the stubborn mark Poe left on your helmet, mumbling to yourself, when you’re distracted from your work by a tap on the foot. BB-8 is in front of you, beeping excitedly and rolling around your quarters. “Hey buddy,” you smile, setting your helmet down beside you to pat the little droid. 

“How's the cleaning?” comes a voice from the hallway, and you whip your head back to the doorway to see the insufferable pilot looming in it.

“Come to admire your handiwork?” You say, gesturing to the still spotted helmet beside you.

He laughs and lets himself into your quarters, looking at the various discarded armor pieces and ship pieces lying around before letting his eyes fall back to you. “Something like that, yeah.”

You feel tiny underneath the intensity of his stare, and now worry that you may have 

offended him with your comment earlier. “Look, Poe, I-”

“I was thinking about what you said earlier.”

You wince. “Oh?”

“I think you look shitty too.” He states, walking towards you and picking up the helmer from the floor. “I think you look so shitty with your helmet on.” He brushes a hand over it delicately, so carefully that you stand up immediately.

“Ok, listen, I didn’t mean-”

“You look super shitty when you’re in a flight suit too, when you join us on a mission.” He’s looking back around your room now, and your mouth is opening and closing like a fish. 

“Excuse me?”

“You look even more shitty when you meet Rey for a drink, and you wear that one green top with the,” he moves his arm across his chest to indicate a cutout, you think, when you imagine the green top he’s thinking of.

“Poe.”

“But,” and he moves to stand in front of you, his chest rising and falling quickly now, and you realize how red his cheeks are when he’s standing in front of you. “I think you look most shitty right now, with your hair like this, in your rec clothes, hanging out with bb-8.” And then Poe Dameron does the most unthinkable thing. In a quick movement, he runs his fingers over the hair by your ear, pulls his other hand up to meet your face, and cups your cheeks to bring you in for a kiss.

And oh. Oh. You get it. You get absolutely every good thing that’s ever been said about Poe Dameron before. He tastes like sweets and a little bit of alcohol and smells like fuel and something warm and musky, is it amber? He kisses you with the slowness of a nervous man and the hunger of a starved one, before pulling back and looking at you.

“Did you get it? The shitty thing? Because you said I was pretty and then shitty?”

“I got it, Poe.” You breathe, arms draped around his neck. You haven’t moved since you both pulled apart, and neither of you wants to break the moment first, worried you’ll scare it away. 

He makes the first move, going to play with a piece of hair that slipped free from your braid, running it between his fingers. “You really are pretty, Mando,” he mumbles, and you blush before opening your mouth to respond. He doesn’t let you, instead pulling you in for another kiss. Poe Dameron doesn’t need you to tell him you think he’s pretty. He already knows.

[avatarrecom]

Day 5: Daddy/Mommy kink

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Recom!reader (can be read as character x reader)

Word count: 800

A/N: First time writing smut, so it probably sucks lol. I'm using the tag #Kinktober Avatar_Recom for my kinktober stories.

And I'm starting to use the tag #Avatar_Recom writing for all my other writing, so be sure to follow those tags!

I know this is a short one, but since I only decided to participate in kinktober a couple days ago, I didn't have time to prepare. So I'm not sure if I can get out a prompt every day, I'll try of course, but with school and my shitty mental health, I'm not sure I can. I'm sorry and I hope you guys understand.

Also, you might have seen that I put a note in my masterlist that I'm changing the prompts of day 10, knife kink and day 27, anal. I did this because I'm not comfortable with those prompts. I've already chosen 2 other prompts, which will be a surprise. Hope you guys don't mind! I'm sure that if you're waiting for those prompts, there are dozens of other fantastic writers out there!

Now enough rambling from me lol, enjoy this prompt!

Kinktober masterlist

🌍 Recom Miles Quaritch Definitely has a daddy kink. I mean even tho he’s in a 20 year old Recom body, he was still like 52 when he died… and of course an actual daddy lol. He honestly wants you to call him daddy all the time. But especially during sex. He’d refer to himself as daddy while he’s fucking you into oblivion. He totally went feral the first time you called him daddy and has told you to call him that ever since. He’d tilt your chin up so you’re looking at him when he wants to give you a kiss, “can daddy have a kiss, darlin?”

😈 Recom Lyle Wainfleet Every time you call him daddy, he has an instant hardon. The whole time he’s pounding into your pussy, he asks you if daddy is making you feel good. He won’t respond to any other name when you’re having sex. I’m pretty sure that he was about the same age as Quaritch when he died (even if he’s not, just imagine he is), so the fact that he could basically be your father, plays a role too.

🍬 Recom Z-dog After the first time you call her mommy, she refuses to respond to any other name. Both during sex and in public (except when you’re working or in the same room as a CO). Loves the name and loves how obedient you look while you call her that. She goes almost feral hearing you whine mommy while her fingers are buried deep in your pussy or while he’s eating you out like her life depends on it.

🥽 Recom Walker The first time you called her mommy, she paused in shock. After she comes back to her senses, she has the most shit eating grin on her face. She’d say something along the lines of “Yeah? do you need your mommy to fuck you?” She will start referring to you as her good girl. Every time you walk sheepishly into her room asking for mommy to fuck you, she’s dripping within seconds.

😎 Recom Mansk Though he’s very dominant, he doesn't like being called ‘daddy’. He much prefers ‘sir’ when he’s pounding your pretty pussy. It gives him a sense of control over you, especially if you’re a soldier like him.

🧯 Recom Prager Initially he's a bit unsure about how to deal with or how to respond. However, he can't deny that it really turned him on for some reason. You both have a deep conversation about it, where he genuinely wants to understand your needs, expectations, and why it's important to you. You answer each of his questions in great detail. It takes some time for him to find his footing, as he wants to make sure he doesn't say or do anything that might make you uncomfortable. But he eventually gets the hang of it. You unintentionally turned him into a daddy god in bed.

⚕️ Recom Ja He's totally cool with being called daddy. However, he's not the type to call you daddy's girl in response to you calling him daddy, he thinks that’s weird and frankly disgusting. He thinks it sounds like you’re actually his child. But he does enjoy the idea of control or domination he has over you. While he can definitely live without being called daddy, if it's something you're into, he's willing to give it a shot at least once.

🧢 Recom Brown The first time you called him daddy, it flipped some switch in him. Now it’s all he wants to hear. He loves it when you get needy and you beg for your daddy. He adores it when he can discretely slip his hand in your pants in public and he whispers to stay still for daddy and he CERTAINLY LOVES when it slips off your tongue in babbles as he fucks you into the next life. 

📿 Recom Lopez This guy definitely has a thing for being called daddy/papi, I would honestly be shocked if he didn't. I mean, the moment you whispered "daddy/papi please fuck me," during a passionate make-out session, he practically tore your clothes off and pulled you on top of him. He was thrusting into you with such intensity that you had to hold onto his shoulders tightly to avoid being thrown off.

⛓️ Recom Fike The first time it happened, he was the one who unintentionally said it. You had just knelt down and gently placed your lips on the tip of his cock. "Show me what you've got, mama." As soon as the words slipped out, you glanced up at him with curiosity, noticing a slight blush on his cheeks. You smirked, but didn't mention it. Instead, you waited until he let out a particularly loud groan, and then playfully smiled up at him. "Do you enjoy that, daddy?" You asked innocently. You could feel his cock twitch in your hands, confirming what you suspected.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Flowers and a hug - Adrien AUGreste Day 3

So wasn't orignally planning on doing the event but I needed something to break up this fic I'm redoing. If I spend too long staring at it, it was going to drive me up a wall, so, here we are. Since I've done most of the @adrienaugust prompts for my Wish series, I'm just going to do the ones I haven't done. Who knows, maybe I'll finally do 'Switched', the one prompt I skipped in the first Wish story.

If you don't know what I mean, the Wish series is a fic series I did exploring the idea of Lila winning and wishing for Adrien's life and Adrien's new life as the kid of an Italian diplomat who has the freedom to be completely himself. These fics are going to be part of that series and the timeline will bounce around.

This fic is based after the events of the last chapter of the second story. Enjoy

Flowers

Piano, he learned from his dad. English and French, his mom taught him that. Sewing was learned at the feet of his nonna. But plants, specifically flowers, his hardened, silent nonno taught him that. Whenever Adrien was with his grandparents, he’d always spend at least 15 minutes in their garden, helping his nonno with whatever task he was doing. The man was always in the garden, even on days were his body made it hard to move, he’d sit on the swinging chair he’d put together after Adrien begged for one, with his espresso or tea and just take his work in. He didn’t speak much, preferring to show his words in actions but he’d tell Adrien about the stories behind the meaning of flowers. He would have him help make bouquets that he’d silently pass to his wife, the only reaction of her thanks being the blush that came to his face like clockwork when she’d press a kiss to her husband’s cheek.

The bouquets had no rhyme or reason behind them, but Adrien did notice whenever his nonna was upset, flowers would end up in her kitchen. They weren’t an immediate fix, but it always brought a smile to her face.

So that’s why Adrien left his apartment early in the morning, met up with Marinette outside the bakery and took the train to the flower market near the Notre-Dame. Luka had told him he loved him and also that because of his grandfather, he’d be busy with something he couldn’t talk about. He and Juleka were feeling the affects of whatever it was, looking exhausted, but Luka seemed to be having a harder time with whatever it was. Adrien was dying to poke and ask more questions but with a ring on his finger and a new constant hitchhiker, Adrien knew it would be wrong to ask for answers Luka wasn’t ready to give. It could see it was bothering him, whenever Luka couldn’t give him a clear answer. Luka’s brow would furrow, he’d tug at his earrings and he’d apologise like it was no one’s business. Adrien just wanted him to be reminded that even though they had to keep a few secrets, that wasn’t going to break them up. Marinette, after hearing his idea in class, offered to show him the best stalls at the flower market.

“Thanks again for doing this.” Adrien thanked.

“Of course. Luka’s been looking so exhausted. I think he was actually going to fall asleep standing up at rehearsal. I’m surprised he didn’t cancel.”

“Not Luka. If he can’t play music, he feels like there’s no point.” It had been that sometimes it was the only time he’d see Luka relax, unburdened by whatever was bothering him.

He just hoped this was another way to make him relaxed.

The market was huge. Thanks to Marinette’s suggestion, it wasn’t quite as packed as it could have been and the blonde Italian followed the baker’s daughter to the different stalls. He didn’t buy from every one, but he pulled some with meanings he hoped to convey. Roses in colours that meant happiness, worthy of them, salvias in blue to let Luka know he was always on Adrien’s mind and hydrangeas to tell Luka thank you for at least trying to give some context, little as it was, along with dahlias to remind him of how kind he was. Cellophane and tissue paper in hand, Adrien tightened his grip on his spoils. His nonno made smiles appear out of thin air with his nonna and her moods. Luka wasn’t in so much of a mood, but Adrien still wanted to make Luka smile.

Here went seeing what stuck from the lessons.

__________________

Sleeping sounded good. Great even, but he had a whole understanding of a Kwami Box to understand first. Said Kwami had tons of energy, but the slightest glimpse of being overstimulated and they thankfully calmed down and went back in the box. They were a help in helping his mother find her missing things. They were like genies. Who didn’t know their own history. The monks behind the Temple did tell their students much, so the little Fu did write down for him left a lot of gaps. Not even the translated Grimoire gave much help in understanding it. with his classes, patrol and trying to be a present person with the people he cared about, Luka felt like he was going to explode. He had Juleka, but she was approaching finals before she graduated collége and headed to lycée. He still needed to take his university exams, if he was even going to do in person university. Another decision he needed to make.

Fu fucking owed him for throwing this responsibility onto a teenager. And the monks, for choosing a kid who didn’t want to do said job which caused all of this in the first place. Also, where the fuck where they? Fu swore they were close but he had yet to have some old person come and demand the Miraculous back. He’d like to have the chance to convince them to help, like Jessica managed to do. He wished he could talk to her more, but he knew her parents were still trying to find them and they wanted answers about the American Miraculous that Jess couldn’t give. He was in a better position than her, having a whole team instead of just his sister, but it wasn’t going to do much now. He couldn’t tell his team what was going on, not until they had more information. Not even his own boyfriend.

Which was another thing. he missed Adrien. Any time they hung out turned into a mess of him being exhausted and distant. Adrien was the best thing ever, not looking upset, just asking if everything was ok. How was it he had the pair the more powerful Miraculous and he wasn’t allowed to tell him anything?

God, he needed a fucking nap.

He shoved the box into the chest they’d chosen for the hiding spot, the Kwami taking a hint and ducking into the mini figure collection Rose had been growing on Juleka’s side of the room. He flopped onto his bed, trying to get his body to relax.

“Luka?” Tikki questioned, letting out a sad hum when he turned to face the wall and away from her.

“Just five minutes please Tikki. I just want five minutes.”

He heard footsteps, but assumed it was his mother. Juleka was spending the night with Rose. The tiny blonde had taken a look at her exhausted looking girlfriend and dragged her home, according to Juleka’s text. But…his mom wasn’t in town. She was charting a yacht across the water for the week. So, who…?

A knock on the post leading to his room made him open his eyes and look towards the doorway.

“Adrien?”

“Hi. I thought Juleka was here but I didn’t see her and I didn’t see your mom either. I didn’t want come in without permission. I know how much your mom loves that.”

He stared at Adrien, dressed rather like a punk for a change, like he wasn’t real. Luka got up and started to walk over to him, ready to grab him into a hug when he was stopped by a face full of flowers. Adrien looked embarrassed.

“I had them behind my back and you were gonna hug me. I wanted to surprise you with them first.”

Luka felt a small smile grow. “You got me flowers?” he asked, taking them from Adrien.

“I made you flowers. A bouquet of flowers I mean.” Adrien stuttered a little, the smile on Luka’s face getting bigger. “My nonno would give my nonna flowers whenever she was upset or just because and I know you’ve have to keep secrets and I can see it’s been upsetting you so I wanted to give you something that reminded you I was here, for whatever you need. Even if it’s just a hug.” Adrien spread his arms out, letting out a small noise when Luka wrapped his arms around him. “Do you like them?”

“I love them. thank you. I like the hug too.”

Adrien laughed, adjusting his grip so he could hug him tighter.

“Of course, you know how to make bouquets. Is there anything you don’t know how to do?” Luka asked, rocking the two of them back and forth. Finally, just for a little bit, he felt calm.

“A number of things, I just learn to fake a lot of it.”

“So, you know the meanings? Is that post on making a ‘fuck you’ bouquet true then?”

Adrien giggled. “Yes, it is. I can tell you what these flowers mean.”

“In a bit.” Luka said, looking at the blossoms he held. He wanted to tell Adrien everything, but for now, these were proof that while things were stressful and insane, he had a person he could go to, even if it was for a hug and a smile. the minute he got permission, Adrien would know. but for right now, he could take a hug. And the flowers, definitely, the flowers.

[hairstevington]

mysterious ways (Steddie Week 2023)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Hello all! I am participating in Steddie week this year, and I am doing a seven part series reflecting each of the seven prompts. Thank you @steddie-week for the challenge! I will only have this first part on Tumblr, but will post the next six chapters each day on Ao3, so follow along over there if you're into it! :)

Summary: Steve feels lonely after the earthquake. Somewhere deep in the Upside Down, new life is born. (Prompts: Hunger - Pining - Somebody to Love by Queen)

WC: 1.4K (each part is going to be pretty short I think)

Warnings: Kas!Eddie/Steve, canon universe post-season 4, pining, angst, a bit darker than my usual fare but not by much, PS this fic will have a happy ending because all my fics do lol

A/N: I wasn't planning on doing Steddie week because I'm going through a bit of a tough time right now but I randomly felt inspired today, so I'm giving it a go. Shout out to @skjachukson for requesting Kas Eddie, I have a feeling I'll be writing him more after this lmao

Sometimes, when things are at their worst, Steve can shrug and say, “hey - it’s not the end of the world.” 

Of course, in Hawkins, it often is the end of the world. So now, Steve has no idea what to tell himself. 

His hometown, which - let’s be real - was never that glamorous, is now in shambles. After the “earthquake,” almost everyone fled, which was valid. The ones who stayed were mainly those who’d been directly involved, or those who have nowhere else to go. Many people lost everything, and Steve tries to give back where he can - they all do - but a lot of the time he’s just sad. 

His hometown was split in four, and all of his friends are in love. 

Steve feels so dumb for even caring, but he does. All he ever wanted was to be loved, really, and he’s gotten the short end of the stick the last few years. He used to feel on top of the world, and now he’s - well, he had been in the Upside Down, which was probably as close as he could get to the literal opposite of the top of the world. 

His friends found happiness where they could  - mostly through crushes and girlfriends and boyfriends. Steve doesn’t have any of that right now. He doesn’t even know where to look. Everything around him is sad. 

Robin and Vickie had bonded over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, of all things. Since then, she’s been volunteering every chance she can with Vickie. Steve joins too, sometimes, but he feels very much like a third wheel. 

Some random dude with incredible hair and an even more incredible name (seriously, who names their kid Argyle?) showed up with Mike, Will, El, and Jonathan in a pizza van. A day later, the guy decided to drive back to Utah to visit his one true love or something. A woman with an equally badass name - Eden.

Steve wasn’t surprised when Dustin wanted to join, because apparently Eden lives with Suzie. Still, Steve was baffled by the whole thing. Usually, some sort of alarm would go off in his head about his surrogate little brother going on a road trip with a stoner, but Argyle seemed nice enough. 

Although, he did unironically use the word “brochacho,” and Steve didn’t really know how he felt about that. 

Steve knew Dustin was taking - uh, things - super hard, and so Steve encouraged any sort of break for the guy. Visiting Suzie seemed like the perfect way for Dustin to decompress, especially after what happened. 

So, Dustin took off. Robin’s busy. Steve is too mortified to even look at Nancy after he’d basically professed his love for her and she brutally rejected him and stayed with Jonathan. Lucas spends all of his time with Max. El and Mike are inseparable. 

That leaves Will. Steve doesn’t know Will that well, but he’s so lonely he doesn’t care if he comes off desperate or weird or whatever. 

Steve shows up at the Byers’ residence one Saturday morning, looking like a total dork. Hopper answers the door, even though Steve would have far preferred Joyce. She’s less, uhhh -

“Steve?” Hopper asks, gruffly. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um - I’m looking for -”

“Is that Steve?” a familiar voice calls from the living room. 

Ah, shit.

“Hey, uh, Nancy,” Steve says, giving a small wave. 

“Is something wrong?” she asks, joining Hopper at the door. 

“No, I -” Steve sighs. He’s mortified to even be in this situation. It was such a stupid plan in the first place. “I’m looking for Will. Is Will here?”

“Umm, yeah,” Nancy responds, retreating back into the house to presumably get her boyfriend’s little brother. 

“What do you need Will for?” Hopper asks, suspiciously. 

“Jeez, relax, Sheriff,” Steve replies. “I just wanted to talk to him. I’m the babysitter, remember?”

This explanation seems good enough for Hopper, even though Steve hasn’t really interacted with Will much prior to this. Not directly, anyway. He’d let the kids in to see movies for free back when he worked at Scoops, but that was it. 

After a full thirty seconds of awkward, painful silence, Will comes to the door. 

“Hey, kid,” Steve says. Hopper and the others had thankfully walked away to give them some privacy. “Do you - do you want to go to the music store with me?”

Will stares at him blankly for a moment, then shouts to the others behind him. 

“Mom! I’ll be back later!” 

Steve smiles, triumphantly. 

“Okay, have fun!” Joyce’s voice rings from somewhere in the house. “Be home by 5 for dinner!”

“You got it, Mrs. Byers!” Steve yells into the void. “Okay, let’s go.”

Will hurriedly walks out of the house and shuts the door behind him, then sighs in relief. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he says. “All the couples are driving me crazy.” Steve chuckles. 

“You and me both.”

-

Will turns out to be excellent company. He has good taste in music, and he’s funny. A little nerdy, like Dustin, but much quieter about it. They get along great, and end up spending a few hours together.

“My brother said he’d be there for me, and now he’s back to spending all his time with Nancy,” Will complains. 

“Yeah, well Nancy broke my heart into a million pieces, so,” Steve replies. 

Then, they riff on how annoying Jonathan and Nancy’s relationship is for a while. They aren’t saying anything out of genuine dislike for either party, but it’s still some much needed venting. Steve listens to Will talk about Mike and El, and that’s when he picks up on some things in between the lines. 

Maybe having a gay best friend makes him better at detecting that sort of thing. 

They pick out a bunch of music and listen to it as they drive around for a while. They both are big fans of Queen, so they blast that first. They get a little too into singing along to Somebody to Love, but neither of them poke fun at the other for it. As much as Steve and Dustin tease each other, and as much as he complains about being the babysitter, Steve loves these kids with all his heart. All of them, even the ones he doesn’t know as well, like Will. He would do anything to protect them. He’d done quite a bit already.

He drops Will off before dinner as promised, then heads home. It’s only after he passes by Forest Hills that he starts to think about Things again. The Things that he tries to suppress. The Things that bubble beneath the surface at any given moment. 

The Things that led up to the Earthquake. He isn’t ready to think about them. Not yet, maybe not ever. 

So yes, it’s far easier to reach out to other people who understand, and to cling to them as long as he can. And then he goes home, and instead of letting his mind drift to those dark places, he starts singing Queen under his breath. 

It’s stupid. It won't fix anything. But still, the need is there.

All he wants is somebody to love. 

-

Hawkins has begun to crack open, and soon what lay beneath will rise. 

It’s a dark place - somewhere that’s always on the verge of a storm. The energy in the air is thick with dread and impending doom. The creatures that live there are something that people may cast off as fictional, because their eyes aren’t open yet to how terrifying and big the world really is. 

Monsters, of all kinds. Some who had once been human, some who prey on humanity. Evil forces that keep kids awake at night. Forces that their parents insist are in their imagination. 

How foolish to think an imagination could be so vivid. Then again, perhaps imagination is what created this place to begin with. It could also be what sustains it.

A flash of lightning. Bats scattering. 

There’s a body somewhere in the fog, going through a transformation. Wings, teeth, and hunger. It takes several days for the body to resemble its altered form - one of strength, intimidation, and a deeply-rooted instinct for evil. 

Once complete, the body gasps in its new life. The soul of a tortured boy once occupied this space, but now there’s something else within him too - something ancient. 

Eddie Munson’s glowing eyes snap open.

He’s starving.

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