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ineedpaigebuckets · 2 days ago

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ALWAYS YOU

chapter 1

synopsis: paige surprising azzi in quarantine, and realizing just how hard it's gonna be to fall in love with her best friend.

an: GUYS PLEASE, i pray, give me feedback, tell me how it is, tell me what you wanna see in future chapters or future stories anything!!! also thank you @averyisnotpresent i love you beautiful!

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the second paige bueckers opened the door to azzi fudd's room, she knew she was fucked.

she'd spent the last week crying over facetime, while her best friend azzi did everything in her power to make her feel better. her senior basketball season, something she’d poured her heart and soul into, was canceled with covid, and the future suddenly felt like an empty court. azzi had stayed up with her every night, whispering comfort through the screen until paige's eyes shut from exhaustion. when one night the tears didn’t stop, azzi made the only offer she knew might help. "come stay with me. for as long as you want.”

and of course, paige jumped at the chance.

azzi told her to come next week, but Paige couldn’t wait. she wanted- no needed- to be near her. so she texted tim and katie, quietly coordinated a surprise, and booked an earlier flight. maybe, just maybe, showing up unannounced would be the first thing to make the both of them smile in days.

dragging her suitcase down the quiet hallway, she pushed open the bedroom door slowly, heart thudding against her ribs like it was trying to warn her. the sight of azzi, curled up on her back, an open book resting gently on her chest, lips parted slightly as she breathed, soft curls spilling like poetry across her cheek, stopped paige cold in her shoes.

she looked like something out of a dream paige didn’t know she’d had until this moment.

dropping her stuff, she stepped inside, quiet as she could. she knelt beside the bed and hesitated, then gently brushed a curl off azzi's cheek, her fingertips trembling. she'd always known there was something about azzi- something that pulled at her like gravity- but seeing her like this, so peaceful, so heartbreakingly beautiful, it hit paige just how deep she was.

she ran her fingers along azzi's cheekbones, traced the soft angle of her jaw, paused at her lips. her throat went dry. her heart clenched with something she didn’t want to name yet. slowly, tenderly, she leaned in and pressed her lips to azzi's forehead, her palm cupping her cheek like something sacred.

“az,” she whispered, thumb grazing her skin.

azzi stirred, eyelids fluttering, and breath catching in her throat, and paige yanked her hand back like she’d touched fire. azzi's eyes blinked open, dazed and confused, and they both looked like they’d been caught doing something they couldn’t explain.

“paige?” azzi rubbed her eyes, sitting up fast, like maybe this was all a dream. paige stood up and shifted awkwardly on her feet, rocking slightly, trying not to look like she’d just kissed her best friend awake from her sleep.

“what the fuck, big head,” azzi finally said through a breathless laugh, tugging paige's hoodie like a lifeline- the hoodie paige had stolen from azzi months ago. she pulled her down onto the bed and they collapsed into each other, rolling and laughing and tickling like kids, like nothing weird had just happened. but it had.

it really had.

eventually, the laughter faded. the silence that followed was different—charged. paige, still tangled in azzi's arms, laid her head against her neck, her voice soft and vulnerable.

“azzi, I missed you so much. like… i just love you. you're the only person i ever wanna talk to. you're my person.” she paused, then added with a nervous chuckle, “when I came in here and saw you asleep- with your book and everything- you looked so pretty. you always look pretty. is that weird?”

she pressed herself closer, her eyes squeezed shut like she couldn’t bear to look at her while saying it. “you're the most beautiful person i've ever seen. you're perfect. like… annoyingly perfect. you're annoying.”

azzi swallowed, hard, because she didn’t know what to do with this. paige's words were muffled against her neck, her body warm and heavy on top of her, her arms around her like she never wanted to let go. and maybe azzi didn’t want her to. but she couldn’t- shouldn’t- think about it like that. Not like that.

“damn, paigey,” azzi said, laughing a little too loud, trying to pull herself out of the fog of emotions. “you in love with me or something?”

it was a joke. that's how it always started—how it always had to be, because joking made it safe.

but the moment the words left her lips, the air shifted. they both went still.

paige pulled her head up slowly, grinning like she wasn’t sure if this was a game or something much, much bigger. “what if I am?”

azzi's breath caught. her whole body flushed, heat crawling up her neck, flooding her cheeks. she shoved Paige’s face gently, trying to laugh it off, but her heart was pounding so loud she was sure paige could hear it. or feel it. paige was still on top of her, for god's sake. it was too much.

too real.

she'd always known paige meant more to her than she should. that the little glances lasted too long, that her heart always did this fluttering thing when paige smiled, that sometimes- when no one else was around- she caught herself wondering what it would feel like to hold her like this without pretending it was a joke.

but azzi wasn’t gay.

or, maybe she was. she didn’t know. she didn’t want to know.

because being gay meant changing everything. it meant giving people something to label her by. it meant losing control of her own story, becoming that girl, the girl who liked other girls, instead of just being azzi. she wanted to be her own person. not someone else’s idea of who she should be, or worse, who she was allowed to love.

but paige… paige wasn’t just anybody.

and that terrified her.

so she smiled, pushed her onto the mattress, and said, “you're so dumb.”

and paige, always too forgiving, laughed like she hadn’t just handed azzi her whole heart for what felt like the millionth time.

later that night, they lay side by side in the dark, the quiet hum of the dmv outside the only sound between them. paige's arm was still thrown loosely around azzi's waist, like it had been since they laid down a few minutes ago, except neither of them had actually fallen asleep. not really.

paige's breathing was slow, steady, but azzi could feel it, how awake she was. paige always had a way of making her presence known without saying a word. her fingers kept brushing the hem of azzi's hoodie like she needed the contact to breathe.

azzi stared at the ceiling, jaw tight, heart doing laps in her chest.

she loved Paige. she loved her more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life. and not in the casual, best friend way she told other people about. it was the kind of love that made her stomach flip when paige laughed, that made her want to win every game just to impress her, that made her want to reach out and touch her even when nothing was wrong. it was the kind of love that settled in her bones like a truth she didn’t want to admit out loud.

and paige? paige never didn’t say it.

she told azzi she loved her like it was her favorite sentence. she looked at her like she hung the damn moon. she clung to her like her world started and ended with her, and sometimes azzi let her, let herself fall into that warmth, because it just felt so good. but every time paige got too close to the line, azzi pulled back. laughed. changed the subject. nudged her. anything to keep the world from shifting under her feet.

because if she admitted it, even just once, what did that mean for the rest of her life?

“are you okay?” paige's voice broke the silence, gentle and curious. she always knew when something was wrong. azzi had the worst poker face around her.

azzi rolled onto her side to face her, nose to nose now in the dim glow of the moonlight slipping through the blinds.

“yeah. i'm good.”

“you sure?”

azzi nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.

paige stared at her for a long moment. then, “do i make you uncomfortable when i say stuff like that? about you being pretty. or loving you.” it wasn't that paige was taking it back, but she just felt guilty- because what if azzi didn't want it... what if. she never told azzi she was in love with her, but she knew everyone under the sun could feel it.

azzi's stomach twisted. “no,” she said, too fast. “you don’t.”

paige nodded, eyes flicking down to azzi's lips for a fraction of a second before returning to her eyes. “it's just… sometimes it feels like i'm saying too much. and you never say anything back.”

azzi didn’t have an answer for that. or, she had too many, and none of them felt like the right one.

instead, she reached out and brushed paige's hair off her face. her thumb lingered against her cheekbone. it was her way of saying i love you, without the weight of the words.

paige leaned into it. “i just don’t get it,” she whispered, voice cracking. “i don’t know what i'm doing wrong. everything changed and nothing even happened."

“you're not,” azzi said quickly, heart aching. “you're not doing anything wrong.”

paige gave her a sad smile. “then why does it feel like i'm the only one who’s really here?”

azzi couldn’t answer that either.

because she was sure. in all the ways that mattered. but being sure didn’t make it easier. being sure didn’t make her brave. loving meant standing in a spotlight azzi wasn’t ready for, meant admitting things she wasn’t ready to claim.

so she didn’t say anything. she just scooted closer and buried her face in Paige’s neck, wrapping her arm tight around her waist, hoping it said what she couldn’t.

paige held her back, because of course she did.

that's the thing about Paige- she loved azzi in the loudest, softest way imaginable. in forehead kisses and early morning texts and always choosing her first. in showing up, in holding on. she didn’t know how to not love azzi out loud.

and azzi loved her in secret. in stolen glances, in late night clinging, in not being able to sleep unless paige was there. she loved her when no one was watching, because that’s when it felt safe.

but it wasn’t fair. not to either of them.

and in the silence, paige felt the weight of that unfairness settling on her chest like a stone.

“i'm gonna fall in love with you so bad it’s not even funny,” she whispered, half asleep, half audible, but azzi heard it- of course she did, she always did.

a zi smiled into her collarbone.

you already did, she thought.

but she still didn’t say it back.

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elleaitch22 · 1 day ago

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Terms of Endearment

Chapter 7: Just a Little Bit of Your Heart

A/N: Please forgive any errors! Lmk what you wanna see next, and I'll try to make it happen :) As always, I hope you love it! xx Elle

Warnings: Using religion to shame, homophobia, manipulation

Word Count: 3.5k

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Paige was intentional when she every choice she made that night. She chose anything that might show she could be soft, safe, and secure. From what Ice had told her about Azzi’s ex, she figured comfort and trust were the most important things she could offer.

The white set she wore was one of the most comfortable outfits she owned. She was planning on driving her Maserati, but that car is loud and flashy – nowhere near the right tone. Instead, she changed to her Land Rover Autobiography. It was same car she used when she was driving with Soleil in the car. Familiar. Warm. Safe.

The Capital Grille was a nice restaurant, one that afforded guests with privacy. She hoped that Azzi would be able to relax without so many eyes on them.

The ride was quiet, comfortable though. Azzi looked out the window, eyes tracking skyscrapers shining against the night sky.

Say something. She’s not going to fall for you if you don’t speak.

Azzi smelled like something sweet, almost like a vanilla cupcake. The scent filled the car, not overpowering, but enough to notice if you paid attention.

“You look really nice.” Azzi’s brown eyes meet blue. “Orange looks good on you.” Paige offered, fighting the urge to cringe as she felt her face heat.

Azzi glanced down at her dress, courtesy of Paige. Her fingers fiddle with the hem nervously. “Thank you. I like your outfit too. It looks really comfortable.” Soft smile.

She wanted to figure out how to make Azzi look that way all the time.

“Do you want a set?” Paige asked.

Azzi’s eyes flashed quickly. “No, thank you.” She turned back to the window.

So, don’t offer to buy her things? That makes her comfortable. Might need to backtrack on furnishing the apartment.

The silence was stiff after that, and Paige had never been so happy to see a valet up ahead.

Paige placed her hand on Azzi’s lower back, guiding her into the restaurant. They were led to the private room quickly.

Paige had been stressing about how to talk to Azzi about her job. As soon as they were alone, she opened her mouth.

“KK told me what happened with your boss.” She wanted to drop her head to the table.

Azzi tensed, “Um, yeah. I’m trying to figure out what to do.”

“I’m so sorry, Azzi.” Paige started; composure regained. She covered Azzi’s hand with her own. “I didn’t mean for this to cost you your job.”

She shook her head, “I mean, I should have thought about it. After seeing how they reacted to you, I’m not surprised.” She took a sip of water. “I should be fine though. There’s a national teacher shortage.”

“I could get your job back, if that’s what you want. If they don’t at least apologize to you, I’m pulling Soleil out. You could be her private tutor. Or you could not work at all; something tells me you don’t get nearly enough rest.”

Azzi studied her skeptically. “I – I’ll think about it and let you know what I decide tomorrow morning. It’ll be early though; they want me out by 7.”

Paige clenched her jaw, “I’ll have Morgan be ready to drive you then.”

The waiter came in with the appetizers, and Azzi was ecstatic at the chance to change the subject.

“So has Soleil always been like that?” She smiled softly. “Bright. Happy. Literal sunshine.”

The brightness of Paige’s smile matched her daughter’s name. “Yeah. I didn’t name her that in hopes that she’d be unnaturally cheerful or anything. She was sunshine. My Sunshine. After everything, she represented goodness, strength, a new beginning.”

As composed as she was, Paige was secretly giddy. This would give her the perfect opportunity to help Azzi be more comfortable with her.

“I guess it’s time for you to hear the story. Everyone else in the family already knows. And I want you to, too.”

Paige paused, gathering her thoughts.

“I started Kairos with one of my professors during undergrad. It’s a private equity firm – we buy companies, streamline their operations, and decide if we want to sell. I built a formula my junior year that basically changed everything for us. My mentor, Dr. Martinez was the best. He was the only person who really believed in me.”

She exhaled slowly. “He died in a car accident seven years ago. He left his share of the company to his kid, Emmanuel. Manny. He said he’d sell me his shares if I married him.”

She caught Azzi’s eye. She looked shocked. Azzi figured it was because everyone knew Paige Bueckers is a lesbian.

I think he wanted to control me or maybe humble me. He knew who I was from basketball and saw me as arrogant. I don’t know. It was a bad marriage. He hit me. Hurt me in ways I won’t get into. I didn’t think I had another option, so I stayed.”

Paige looked at a small wrinkle and swallowed to keep her voice steady. “When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I had to get out. I called Nika for the first time in years, and she helped me make a plan. Then, I found out I was having a girl – I knew I didn’t want her growing up thinking she had to change who she was or disappear to get away from someone hurting her.”

Her hand tightened around the champagne flute. “Manny died in a car accident, and I was free. And four months later, I had Soleil. That whole situation was so awful, but she was so good, so perfect. She was light in my life. She gave me strength and a purpose I didn’t know I could have. Manny didn’t have a will when he died, so everything went to me.”

She shrugged. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt my family like Manny did, so I threw myself into work and being a good mom.”

The room was quiet. Paige looked up from the wrinkle in the tablecloth she’d been fixated on. She had no idea how Azzi would react.

“I’m so sorry you went through that, Paige. You’re so strong.” Azzi’s eyes shone with tears. “You’re a great mom, one of the best I’ve ever seen. You’ve been fighting for Soleil since you found out she existed.

Paige swallowed hard. “Thank you, Azzi. I just want you to know the truth. The walls, the façade, it’s to keep the girls, to keep Soleil, safe. It’s hard for me to let them down, but I am trying.”

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Azzi’s heart ached. She never would’ve guessed all the things Paige had to do to survive. She couldn’t imagine dealing with someone like that while being pregnant.

Paige seemed like she was bracing for impact and judgement.

“I know I haven’t lived what you did, but I–” She started, getting flustered. “My ex was a little like yours. I still hear his voice sometimes. So if you wanna talk, or vent, or anything, I’m just a few floors down.”

She could see the tension melt from Paige’s shoulders, and she felt her own doing the same.

“So, Ice showed me the choices for your place You’re going to live in a sunrise.” She smirked.

Azzi’s lips turned down in a small pout, “I think pink, orange, and yellow look perfect together…and I love sunrises!”

Their conversation was interrupted when the waiter came back in, listing the five options the women had for their entrée.

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Paige remembered what Ice and KK told her about Azzi’s deep-rooted aversion to making choices because of her fuck ass ex.

“We’ll take all five, thank you.” Paige said, leaving no room for rebuttal.

Big brown eyes stared at her in surprise. “You just ordered five entrées.”

“You looked like you were having an existential crisis trying to decide.” Paige said, sinking into the velvet chair. “I don’t think you should have to pick if you don’t want to. Try them all and take the leftover for lunch.” She smirked into her water glass.

“So is this a thing with you?” Azzi squinted. “Going overboard?”

Paige gasped dramatically; a mannerism Soleil had inherited. “Overboard? I’ll have you know this is what caring about people looks like.”

Head tilted to the side, and cheeks pink, “Why did you offer to do this? Why do you care?”

“Most people don’t care. They don’t care about children, or even see them as people, but you do. You made sure Soleil was treated equally, and she loves you. I don’t think you will ever understand how much she loves you, Azzi. You became family the moment you fought for her when I couldn’t.”

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The rest of the evening flowed smoothly. Conversation was easy and the vibes were surprisingly warm. Paige was playful and sharp in a way Azzi never would have assumed. And she was so kind the entire night. She held doors open, guided Azzi with a hand on her back, and even buckled her seatbelt for her.

Azzi didn’t know if it was the champagne or the company, but her shoulders felt much less tense than normal. As she briefly gazed at Paige on the way home, she was appreciative of the quiet. Of the way Paige hadn’t demanded anything of her.

She could feel her thick, tall walls shaking with the kindness and lack of expectations Paige had shown her. She opened every door, pulled out every seat, and even buckled Azzi’s seatbelt for her, like it was a normal thing to do.

You can’t trust her just because she’s pretty, rich, and nice. People can change in a split second.

When they arrived at the Aurelia, Paige rode to the 59th floor with Azzi, walking her to her door.

“I’ll be taking you to the school tomorrow instead of Morgan. I’ve convened a meeting with the board of St. Paul’s.”

Azzi wanted to tell Paige she didn’t need to before she realized Paige was still trying to take care of her.

And then—impulsively, gently—she leaned in and kissed Paige on the cheek.

The blush that bloomed across Paige’s face was worth every inch of vulnerability.

That was definitely a date.

She closed the door, resting her head on the cool oak. She was blushing. Just like the girl she’d just kissed. What the fuck was that. Ohmygosh. She ignored the butterflies in her stomach as she rationalized with herself; she was just saying thank you.

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Azzi looked around her classroom, smiling. She knew Paige would be coming to help pack up her class, but Ice, Jana, and KK joined as well. It was a small gesture, but one that warmed Azzi up inside.

“Azzi, can I take this book home?” Soleil held up Love You by Heart, the book that got everything started.

Azzi smiled, hearing the question for the seventeenth time. “Of course, Soleil.”

“You’re not gonna have any books left if you can’t tell her no, Ms. Fudd.” Paige threw a playful smirk her way.

Azzi shrugged, “That’s fine. With my new part time job, I’ll be able to afford to buy new books.”

Before Paige could come up with a sarcastic reply, Jana spoke. “Pause. Why are we packing up your classroom if Paige is gonna bitch them out until they give you your job back?”

Heat rushed to Azzi’s face. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to work at St. Paul’s after seeing how they treated people with different views than them.

“Thanks for the reminder, J. Come of Az. It’s time to head to the conference room. Ice, please don’t let Soleil trick you into letting her paint.”

Azzi didn’t hear anything after Paige called her Az. She had a nickname. To Azzi, nicknames were a way to show love and affection. While Az wasn’t super personal, she felt a little brighter knowing someone cared enough to give her a nickname again.

“Azzi.” The blonde’s voice interrupted her stream of consciousness. She stood up sharply, following Paige into the hallway. Her hands fiddled with the hem of her old UCLA sweatshirt. A warm hand covered hers. “Relax, Azzi. No matter what happens, you’ll be good. I promise.”

“Thanks, I’m just nervous,” She muttered, looking at her shoes. “I just – I’ve never really been in trouble like this before, and it’s not even over something I can control.”

As someone who had attended private school, Azzi was intimately familiar with hiding her sexuality to avoid conflict. It never made sense to her; hating someone because of who they love. It’s not like they could control it.

“Fuck em. They think you’re weak, but you’re not.” Paige’s voice dropped. “You’ve survived worse, and you got us now.”

Brows furrowed, Azzi gave a small nod, held herself higher, and opened the door.

The long conference room table had ten people around it, Mr. Smith and the nine board members. There was a chair opened at the end of the table, with one seat available next to it.

Azzi felt inferior in her leggings and tennis shoes, while all the board members wore suits. She glanced at Paige. She looked perfectly composed, despite being in a gray Nike tech fit.

“Ms. Fudd, Ms. Bueckers, thank you for coming this morning.” Mr. Smith said, standing. “Let’s get started, since it’s a holiday and all.”

Each board member introduced themselves, and if it was a different scenario, Azzi would have laughed at all of them being named after a saint.

When the last member, John Paul James (three saint names), introduced himself, he added something to the end. “I was assuming this meeting would be with you, Ms. Bueckers. You said something about donations?”

“She’s here for me,” Azzi replied before Paige could speak. Despite her nerves, her voice came out even. “We are here to discuss my termination.”

Peter Kingsley rolled his eyes subtly. “Ms. Fudd, you’ve been a valued and effective teacher at St. Paul’s, but we cannot retain a teacher who lives in direct opposition of what the Bible teaches.”

Azzi inhaled sharply. “Excuse me? I –”

“For this reason God gave them up to dishonorable passions. For their women exchanged natural relations for those that are contrary to nature; and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error. Romans 1:26-27.” Another member says.

“1 Corinthians 6:9-10. Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.” A deeper voice calls out.

“You are a teacher, Ms. Fudd. You are supposed to be a moral example for your students. We don’t want you do lead those children astray.” A woman spoke sternly.

Azzi inhaled sharply. “I’ve always shown them to live a life of love. I have never taught them anything that goes against–”

“You are trying to cause these children spiritual harm, and we will not stand for it.” Mr. Kingsley sneered. “Matthew 18:6 says but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great mill–”

“I would never do that, I love my k –” Azzi’s voice wavers, eyes shiny with tears.

“You are leading them to hell–”

“Enough.” Paige’s rings out sternly. The tone is so intense that no one dares to speak.

She rises slowly, face controlled, shoulders tense. She stands tall behind Azzi’s chair, placing a gentle hand on the back of her neck. The panic that has Azzi’s body wound up melts a little. She quietly wipes the tears from her face.

“I’ve been biting my tongue out of respect for Azzi. Trying to let her handle it, but you won’t even listen to her. And I won’t sit here and listen to you berate my girlfriend for something she can’t control.”

Her hand leave Azzi has she stalks around the table. “I chose this school because of her.” She pointed. “I looked up reviews of every preschool teacher in the city, and she outshined the rest by miles. Soleil is a shy child, and I needed a teacher who would look at the whole child. Someone who would make every kid feel loved and special, and that’s what Azzi Fudd does.”

The classroom’s temperature has dropped ten degrees as Paige paused. “And you want to fire her? I would love to see you try. Let’s talk about the ramifications of firing Ms. Fudd.”

A smirk works its way onto her perfect, pale face. “I’m St. Paul’s largest donor. I have already donated triple the amount than next highest donor. I am covering the tuitions of fifty students, one of whom bullied my child because I’m gay. I have donated the money for that new state of the art library and have had documents drawn up for a science lab. You fire her, you lose the best teacher, you lose my daughter, you lose me, and every penny I bring in for this school.”

All of the board members tense at her threat.

“This is supposed to be a Christian institution. You like throwing scripture at people, huh? John 8:7. Let you without sin cast the first stone. Galatians 5:22. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I want you to look me in my eye and tell me which attribute Azzi is lacking in.”

She bends down, getting eye level with Mr. Kingsley. “You preach about shepherding children, and she does it. She does it well. Why do you think all her families love her so much?” Blue eyes throwing an icy glare at the man. “What you’re doing isn’t righteous, it’s pharisaical.”

Paige walks back to Azzi. “We’re leaving.”

Azzi rises on shaky legs. She’s never had someone stand up for her like that.

“Ms. Fudd,” Mr. Smith grits out. “Perhaps we’ve been a bit hasty with our judgement. You are more than welcome to stay at St. Paul’s, with a few guardrails of course.”

“No thank you,” Azzi smiles softly. “Jesus said they will know we are Christians by the love we have for one another. I want you to think if you have shown me the love and grace that you should have, and I hope you won’t make this mistake again.”

She walks out. She doesn’t look back, walking proudly until they got back to her classroom She made a beeline to the restroom, and finally let herself cry.

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Paige was feeling…a lot of feelings. She was proud of the way Azzi stood up for herself. She saddened knowing the damage this would do to the woman. She was furious at the close-minded attitude and greedy nature of the board members. But she was enraged hearing Azzi’s sobs.

They didn’t deserve her sorrow. They didn’t deserve her tears. Paige paced in front of the classroom, trying to burn off some of her fury.

“Aye, you good, P?” KK questioned cautiously.

Paige’s head snapped up, remembering where she was, and who was present. The classroom was bare, everything in boxes except for a few pieces of paper and a box of markers for Soleil.

Her daughter’s big blue eyes met hers sadly. “Mommy, why is Azzi cwying?”

She took a deep breath, kneeling to her daughter’s level. “Some people here said some mean things to her, so she’s upset.”

Soleil’s dark brows furrowed. “We should make hew feel bettew.” Lips turned down in a frown. “We go get ice cweam!” She exclaimed.

Paige smiled at Soleil’s zeal. “That sounds like a good idea, Sunshine.” She turned to her friends. “Let’s get these boxes in the car so we can go before I lose it.”

Jana, Ice, KK, and Paige loaded up the two SUVs and sat in the classroom, joking around, and waiting for Azzi to come out.

No one noticed what Soleil was doing until it was too late. “Come on Azzi! Time fow ice cweam!”

“Lei! We’re just gonna wait til she’s ready.” Paige rushed to scoop her up.

The door cracked a little, “No, it’s okay. I’m ready.” Azzi said, softly.

Soleil wiggled until her mom put her down. She threw herself at her teachers. “I’m sowwy they was saying mean things to you.”

Azzi hoisted her up, Lei’s little legs wrapping around her waist. “Thank you, Soleil.” She turned to the adults. “So, I heard we’re getting ice cream?”

Paige watched a smile stretch over Azzi’s face, a matching one lighting up Soleil’s face. And for a second, Paige let herself want a future that looked just like this.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #dallas wings #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #wnba

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internetdaddy98 · 19 hours ago

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Uncharted Territory

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Pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!SeniorResident!Reader Summary: Robby and Y/N attend a Thanksgiving dinner at her family’s home. As they arrive, Robby notices Y/N’s slight nervousness, the first time he’s seen her unsure since their relationship became personal.

Word Count: 2.2 K Content Warning: Mentions of death

Robby had never been to a Thanksgiving dinner like this.

The driveway was long and winding, the trees on either side stretching their bare branches toward the sky like hands reaching for the clouds. He had parked at the end, under a single light, watching as you walked ahead, your posture confident but the slightest hint of nerves in your step. It was the first time he’d seen you so unsure since you’d crossed the line between professional and personal. Usually, it was the other way around, he was the one second-guessing himself. But today, it was you.

Your hand brushed his for a second, a silent reassurance. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around yours, giving it a quick squeeze, the gesture a promise.

“You don’t have to do this,” Robby said, his voice low as they walked toward the front door.

“I want you to be here,” you replied, not looking at him, but your smile was soft. “I need you to be here.”

He could tell there was more behind those words than just simple affection. You were giving him more than he thought he deserved. Robby swallowed, feeling that familiar tightness in his chest, the same tightness he had when he thought about the people he loved most in his life, and how easy it was to break them, to lose them.

But today, he wasn’t going to lose you. Not now, not ever.

They reached the front door, and you took a deep breath before knocking. The door swung open before you even had the chance to touch the handle. A woman in her late sixties—tall, with a warm smile and brown eyes that mirrored yours—stood in the frame, a welcoming expression lighting up her face.

“Y/N” she exclaimed, pulling Sheridan into a tight hug, one that Robby could only watch. “You made it! And you brought Robby. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

Robby was caught off guard. He had expected to be introduced with some level of distance. Not as a boyfriend. Not yet.

“Mom, Robby is my—,” you said, your voice steady, though Robby noticed the way your chest rose and fell slightly faster. “My… my partner.”

Robby held out his hand instinctively, shaking the woman’s with a firm grip. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mrs. Sheridan.”

Mrs. Sheridan’s eyes softened as she held on to his hand for just a second longer than usual. “Y/N’s told me so much about you. Please, come in. Dinner’s just about ready.”

Robby stepped inside, feeling like he was crossing into foreign territory. The house was beautiful in a way that was distinctly you—comfortable, clean, yet filled with little hints of personality. There were photographs on the walls of her as a child, laughing with a brother Robby hadn’t met, and a few older shots of her with her parents, always with that same earnest, kind smile.

The decor screamed wealth—polished hardwood floors, an impressive chandelier overhead, and even the scent of the house—rich and almost intoxicating—spoke of affluence. Robby couldn’t deny the sense of unease creeping up his spine. He had always lived a life of simplicity. This was something different entirely.

“Baby, why don’t you take Robby to the kitchen? I’ll finish setting the table.”

Robby glanced at you as your mother bustled off toward the kitchen, and you caught his eye. There was something about the way you were looking at him, an almost shy smile on your lips, that made the tension in his chest increase.

“Let’s go,” you said, leading him through the house to the kitchen.

The space was stunning, a large, open room with marble countertops and soft, ambient lighting. Your father was at the counter, chopping something with precise movements, his back to them.

“Daddy,” You called out, her voice soft yet strong, a tone Robby couldn’t help but notice. “This is Robby.”

Her father turned around with a kind smile that mirrored his wife’s, but Robby could tell there was something more in his gaze. Like he was sizing Robby up. A quiet challenge that he didn’t know how to address. “Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking Robby’s hand without hesitation. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Sheridan,” Robby replied, his voice steady, even if his heart was racing. “It’s good to be here.”

They chatted for a few minutes as Mrs. Sheridan finished up in the kitchen, and Robby found himself settling into the easy rhythm of the conversation. It wasn’t awkward—not like he had feared. In fact, he felt comfortable, at ease in a way he hadn’t thought was possible when he first thought about spending a holiday with your family.

But every now and then, he would catch you looking at him—those moments when your eyes met across the room, and everything else seemed to stop. He couldn’t explain it, but something shifted in those moments. The way you saw him now wasn’t the same as before.

You weren’t hiding anymore. You had introduced him as your partner—not your mentor. And for the first time in months, Robby allowed himself to believe it. He wasn’t holding back. And neither were you.

Dinner was served with an easy familiarity, the table brimming with food, laughter, and the sounds of family. But through all of it, Robby couldn’t help but notice the subtle but undeniable ways your relationship had shifted. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Every little gesture you made, the soft laugh you let slip when your father told a terrible joke, the way you corrected him when he tried to grab your plate without asking.

She was home, and he was a part of it now. A part of her world that had been so carefully tucked away.

After dinner, as the dishes were cleared and dessert was brought out, you and your mother left the room, giving Robby a moment to speak with your father. The conversation felt easy, relaxed, but Robby noticed the lingering tension in the older man’s eyes when he looked at him.

“You’re good to her, Robby,” Mr. Sheridan said quietly, his voice almost conspiratorial. “I can see that. She’s been through enough. Don’t let her down.”

Robby swallowed, nodding. “I won’t.”

And then, as if the moment wasn’t heavy enough, Mr. Sheridan placed a hand on Robby’s shoulder. “You hurt her, and I’ll break your legs. Understand?”

It wasn’t a joke, and it wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. Robby respected that.

He didn’t answer, just met the older man’s eyes and nodded. But deep down, Robby was certain that this was just the beginning. He couldn’t just have you in his life, he was already in too deep. She was already his, and everything else, every piece of his life that hadn’t been hers before, was already shifting to make room for her.

Robby had already begun to feel the weight of her world, her family, the house, the wealth, and all that it implied. The evening had been a strange blend of feeling out of place and yet completely at ease, thanks to the small, quiet moments shared with you. It wasn’t the grandeur of your home that left Robby uneasy, though; it was the knowledge that there was more to you than what you showed the world.

The conversation had moved into a natural silence after dinner, and the family had retreated inside, leaving Robby and you alone on the back porch. The air had grown crisp as twilight settled in, and Robby found himself looking at you in a way he hadn’t before, your eyes soft in the fading light, your posture relaxed, but something about you seemed distant.

Your eyes were trained on the streetlight across the yard, but they were unfocused, as though you were seeing something far away. It was as if you had become someone else entirely.

“Sher?” Robby asked quietly, stepping closer, his voice threading through the cool air between them.

You blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and turned to face him. “Sorry. I was just… thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitated, lips pressed together, as if weighing the decision to open up. Robby could feel you pulling away, not physically, but emotionally, and something inside him shifted. He knew that silence. It was the silence of someone preparing to say something important, something painful.

“I wasn’t always… like this,” you said finally, your voice quieter than before, as if you had just invited him into a room you had kept locked for years. “I used to be a different person. I used to be scared all the time. I wasn’t always so... steady.”

Robby nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact, his hand instinctively moving toward yours. “You don’t have to explain anything if you’re not ready,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

Your gaze fell to your intertwined hands, and then, after a long moment, you spoke again. “When I was ten years old, my brother died in a car accident.”

Robby’s heart tightened, the words hanging between them like an invisible weight. He had known there was something in her past, some unspoken tragedy, but hearing her voice the words brought a sharp clarity to the pain she had carried for so long.

“Ethan, He was eight” you continued smiling fondly, her voice shaking just slightly, but still, you pressed on. “My family, my parents, we were in the car, and we crashed. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but I remember the way the car felt when it flipped. The way it… crumpled.” You paused, your lips pressed together as if bracing herself.

Robby didn’t know what to say. There were no words for something like that. He couldn’t begin to understand the weight of what you were saying, the guilt she must’ve carried all these years. He moved closer, instinctively, his fingers brushing her hair in a silent offer of comfort.

“The worst part,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper, “is that I remember it all. I remember waking up, trapped in the car with him, and I remember how they weren’t moving. I was so scared, but I had to get out, had to get help. I freed myself, and I called for help.”

You let out a sharp breath. “But I couldn’t save him. I was just a kid. I couldn’t do anything but watch him die.”

Robby’s chest tightened, and a coldness spread through his limbs. Your eyes were closed now, like you were trying to erase the memory of it, to block out the flood of emotions that always threatened to resurface. He could feel the heaviness of the moment pressing on him, but he didn’t move away.

“You were just a kid, Sheri,” Robby said, his voice hoarse. “You did everything you could. You didn’t fail him.”

But you shook her head, her eyes opening to meet his. “I should’ve done more. I should’ve saved him. I couldn’t even hold him, Robby. He was gone by the time help arrived.”

The guilt in your voice struck him with the force of a fist. Robby knew then that what you had been carrying wasn’t just grief. It was guilt—painful, suffocating guilt that you had never been able to shake.

“I can’t imagine how that feels,” Robby whispered, his hand sliding from yours to rest gently on your shoulder. “But I do know this: you’re not to blame. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, offering him a small, broken smile. “I don’t talk about it. My parents don’t either. They’ve never asked how I’m doing with it. I don’t know if they even think about it anymore.”

Robby’s heart ached for you. It was clear that her family’s way of dealing with the tragedy was to sweep it under the rug, but you had been living with it, trying to carry it alone.

“I can’t even imagine how hard that must be,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your shoulder, offering a silent understanding. “But you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

You gave him a faint, grateful smile, your hand resting over his. “I’ve been pretending for so long, Robby. But with you… it feels like I don’t have to.”

He squeezed your hand tighter. “You don’t. You’re not alone.”

The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken promises. For the first time, Robby felt the full weight of your past—of your life before him—and he knew it wasn’t just about the trauma of the car accident. It was about the loss you had never fully healed from, the grief that had followed you in every step, every decision, every relationship.

And as the night deepened around them, Robby realized that the woman standing before him was more complex than he could have ever imagined. But she was also the woman he wanted to hold, to protect, to love in ways she hadn’t allowed herself to believe possible.

The pain she carried didn’t scare him. If anything, it made him want to pull her closer, to make her feel safe in a world that had taken so much from her. And maybe, just maybe, he could be the one to help her carry it, piece by broken piece. ———————————— Want to join the taglist? shoot me a comment! @rosiepoise88 @nosebeers @andabuttonnose @luvr4miya @cannonindeez @hagarsays @captainoates @lemonlime09 @delicateflorencia @iceb1ink1uck @moonshooter @qardasngan @penbridgertonn @foreverchangingfandoms @msdariaknight @kmc1989 @trustme3-13 @ilikestuffs-stuff @letstryagaintomorrow @steviebbboi @jazzimac1967 @foolishseven @catmomstyles3

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sabrinajenre96 · 1 day ago

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"Coming Home"

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Wife!Detective!Reader

Word Count: ~2,000

Genre: Emotional, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending

---

The night Tim left, it shattered something in you.

He hadn’t raised his voice, hadn’t even looked angry. Just distant. Cold. He told you he needed space. That everything—from his past in the military to what happened with Ray—was suffocating him. That he couldn’t be the man you needed him to be. And just like that, he walked out.

You had clutched the small envelope in your hand that night, the one holding the test that changed everything. You were going to tell him he was going to be a father. But he never gave you the chance.

A month passed.

You kept showing up for work, doing your job, pushing through the motions. Lucy stayed by your side. She was the one who held your hand when the morning sickness hit like a wave. The one who helped you keep the secret you had meant to share with your husband—the man who broke your heart.

You still wore your ring, but only when you were alone.

---

Tim was unraveling.

Each day away from you felt like another cut. He thought distance would protect you. He thought he was doing the right thing by shielding you from the weight he still carried, the pain he hadn't processed. But he was wrong.

Angela Lopez let him have it the moment he confessed his regret.

“You left your wife, Tim. The woman who has never given you a reason to doubt her love. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he admitted, voice hollow. “I panicked. I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt. The nightmares. Ray… everything. I pushed her away thinking I was doing her a favor.”

Angela sighed, softer now. “She’s not okay, Tim. She loves you, but you broke something in her. If you really want her back, you better be ready to fight for her. No lies. No running.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

---

That night, Lucy and Angela told you to dress nice. “We’re taking you out,” they said with those suspiciously innocent smiles.

You didn't expect to be driven to the little bluff overlooking the city, where Tim first asked you out. Where he proposed two years later with shaking hands and a hopeful heart.

“Why are we here?” you asked, heart pounding.

Angela leaned in, kissed your temple. “Just follow the clues.”

And then she and Lucy were gone.

You found the first note on the bench, held down by a photo of you and Tim laughing, heads tilted together, love etched into every line.

“You’re the best decision I ever made.”

The second was near the old oak tree, taped to the trunk.

“I was a fool to think leaving would protect you. All I did was hurt you.”

By the time you found the last one, your hands were trembling. It was clipped to a string of fairy lights he’d strung along the railing—just like the night he proposed.

You turned and saw him.

Tim stood a few feet away, his face open, haunted, hopeful. You froze.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, turning.

“Wait,” he said, stepping forward. “Please. Don’t go.”

Your breath caught. The ache in your chest pulsed alive again.

“You left me, Tim,” you said, eyes glistening. “You didn’t even let me speak. You just—walked away.”

“I know,” he said, voice rough. “And I’ve regretted it every day since. I was scared. I thought I was protecting you. But I wasn’t. I was protecting myself.”

Your head turned slightly, pain and love warring behind your eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” you admitted, voice breaking. “You broke me.”

Then, the nausea came without warning.

You turned, stumbling toward the trash can nearby as your stomach lurched. Tim was beside you in seconds, holding your hair back, rubbing your back, panic on his face.

“Hey, hey. Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head, breath still shaky. “No. I know what this is.”

Tim blinked. “What?”

Still hunched slightly, you turned toward him with tear-filled eyes. “I’m pregnant, Tim.”

The world stopped.

His mouth opened slightly, stunned. “What…? Since when?”

Your voice cracked. “The night you left. I was going to tell you that night.”

He closed his eyes, devastated.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You nodded slowly. “I wanted to tell you in a different way. I imagined your smile. Your hands on my belly. I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am happy,” he said quickly, desperately. “I just—I don’t deserve you. But I want to. I want a second chance.”

You were quiet. He took your hand gently.

“I miss you every second. I miss your voice. Your laugh. Our home. You are my home, and I hate what I did to us. I don’t even know why I did it. But I swear to you, I’ll never do it again.”

You looked at him, your expression softening.

“I missed you too.”

Tim exhaled, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“But if you come home, things have to change,” you added, stronger now. “No more secrets. No shutting me out because you think it’s for my own good. I’m not a damsel. I’m your wife. We’re a team.”

He nodded, eyes locked to yours.

“I hear you. I see you. And I swear, I will never put you through that again. I want to be a better man—for you. For our baby.”

You nodded slowly. “Then come home. The house doesn’t feel like ours without you in it. And now we have a baby to think about.”

Tim stepped closer, one hand brushing against your still-flat stomach.

“Our baby,” he murmured in awe.

You placed your hand over his.

“You’re going to be a dad, Tim.”

His eyes filled. “And I swear, I’m going to be the kind of father—and husband—you can rely on.”

You leaned into his chest, heart thudding against his.

“You already are,” you whispered.

And finally, after a month apart, Tim Bradford took his wife in his arms—and this time, he wasn't letting go.

---

End.

#the rookie #the rookie fanfic #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford fanfiction #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford x detective reader #Tim Bradford x detective wife reader

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towasdandelion · 3 days ago

Note

Hi can you make Vagastrom and Frostheim with "Someone flirts with you" Please?

Yessss of course hehehe, it was in my plans! I hope you like it (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠)

What happens when someone flirts with you while your ghoul bestie is away?

Vagastrom and Frostheim ghouls when someone else flirts with you

Leo pretends not to care, only to show up at the scene anyway. He rolls his eyes the moment he spots you from a distance. Taking out his phone, he opens the camera app as he walks over to you. "I know she's an easy target, but what the fuck? Do you really think you have a chance or something?" He absolutely humiliates the guy, calling him names before dragging you away with him. He starts whining about how you owe him now and how he always has to save you. All the while, he's holding your hand in his...

Alan’s alarms go off, and he’s by your side in an instant, towering over the other student. He doesn’t even have to say a word - the student goes pale and takes a few steps back. Just as the guy is about to speak, Alan interrupts. “Save it. I don’t want to see you around her ever again. Understood?” The student just nods quickly and walks away. Now Alan can focus on making sure you're okay and.. scolding you. A girl like you shouldn’t be wandering around Vagastrom on her own, he says. I wonder what "a girl like you" is supposed to mean.

Sho frowns when he sees a student he knows bothering you. Looked like he chose you as his next target. Sho walks up and throws an arm over your shoulder. “What, finally noticed how cute she is? Too late.” Not giving the guy a chance to react, he swiftly whisks you away from the scene. Once it's just the two of you, he starts asking questions. You didn’t seem to know who the guy was, so Sho feels obligated to warn you about him. He also asks you to call him if anyone ever bothers you again. Better safe than sorry. Not that he's just trying to get rid of the competition or anything.

Jin was about to get back to whatever he was doing, but then he pauses. There's a guy bothering his maid right now and for some reason he can't ignore that. So he shows up just in time to see the guy’s hand reach toward you. “If you reach for something that’s not yours ever again, I won’t be this gentle” Jin says, grabbing the student’s arm and twisting it. The guy yelps in pain and quickly promises it won’t happen again. Only then does Jin let him go. And don’t think he came to save you or anything. He just happened to need to tell you something. Why is he dragging you to his room now? No idea.

Tohma quickly arrives by your side, flashing his polite smile before speaking. "Is this how you think girls should be treated? Allow me to give you a lesson. Make sure to pay attention." He then proceeds to gently bring your hand to his lips and kisses it, asking if you're okay. Was it a bit theatrical? Maybe. But it demonstrated perfectly how close you and Thoma were. Doesn't matter you're not a couple, it still sent a clear sign for the the guy to back off. The student mutters an apology and leaves. Tohma swears he just wanted to teach the guy some manners, but the look in his eyes tells a different story.

Lucas was literally born to do this. He's a gentleman, so he definitely won't ignore the situation. His steps are calm and confident, and you can see the soft smile on his face as he approaches you and the student. "Excuse me but I don't think she feels very comfortable in your presence. Would you mind keeping your distance?" The student blinks in confusion - Where did this guy even come from? And why is he being so... polite? But once he notices Luca's Frostheim uniform the guy decides to just back away, leaving you alone. After making sure you're okay Luca will escort you back to your dorm, just in case someone else wants to bother you.

Kaito... He won't stand for someone else trying to snatch his girl!!! Doesn't matter that you don't even know that yet, he will confess one day! And until that day comes he will make sure to literally act like a guard dog, trying to shoo any potential competition away. "You know she knows Jin Kamurai right? Yeah I wouldn't risk it if I were you haha" Literally using Jin as a shield but hey, it worked! The student even thanked Kaito for warning him before walking away... Well, the blonde claims the guy was a weirdo anyways so he just saved you. No need to thank him!

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker fics #leo kurosagi #sho haizono #alan mido #jin kamurai #tohma ishibashi #kaito fuji #lucas errant

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moongirlrhea · 1 day ago

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heaven and hell were words to me (no grave can hold my body down)

chapter five in the azriel and his best friend series

series masterlist

word count: 2.2k

azriel x reader

warnings: bricks being thrown at faces (of the readers)

a/n: this is a shorter one than usual, but i hope you guys still enjoy! i wanted to thank all of you for engaging in my writing so much, for all the replies and reblogs, it means so much to me :) and as always, i’m open to feedback, talk to meeeee

The tips of Azriel’s wings were beginning to freeze over with how long he’d been trudging through the snow.

There was nothing of interest in this forest, he was sure of it at this point. He’d already lost half the day to fly to the woods off the coast of the court, where Rhys had detected some strange activity, as he’d called it. An intruder. It was understandable that the High Lord was more agitated than usual, with news of Hybern sending one of their generals as an emissary to Prythian. Amarantha, if he recalled correctly.

And so the shadowsinger didn’t complain when he was asked to go to the other end of the court this morning. Except the sky had turned a darker shade of blue a while ago now, and even though the Illyrian was well accommodated to the cold, it was slowly starting to bother him. Just as he was about to turn around and fly home, he spotted movement in the trees.

Having unsheathed Truth-Teller, he moved. Weaving between the trees, hidden in the shadows, his footsteps made but a sound until he had the person right before his eyes. Until he had them pressed against the trunk of a tree, dagger to the throat.

The person shrieked. And that was the first time he had the chance to take a good look at them.

Trembling before him, eyes wide with fear was a young female. His hand hesitated as he searched her face; a strange sort of quiet song filled his mind all of a sudden. His mouth fell open.

This was the most beautiful fae he’d ever laid eyes on.

And then she sniffled, and it was like he sobered up. Gods, what was he doing? He pressed the dagger tighter against her throat, not trusting the stranger and asking, voice razor-sharp and cold like the forest around them.

“Who are you?” the female bit her lip, blinking quickly as if she was trying to stop herself from crying. Azriel’s eyes narrowed.

Finally she half whimpered her name. “I- I came here on a- on a boat. From- from the continent, and there,” she sniffled “there was supposed be a town not far from the port but- I think I got lost”

Azriel stood there, studying her. He could tell she wasn’t lying, and his shadows informed him that a ship had, in fact, arrived at the port a few hours later. But how did she get here? Her clothes were torn in places, and definitely not weather appropriate - she was scarcely wearing a coat. The edges of her clothes were starting to freeze over, and her lips were turning blue. He took a look at her hands - her fingers were red and stiff.

“Please- please don’t hurt me” she squealed out wetly all of a sudden, voice trembling. He needed to get her away from here, before she froze over right before his eyes.

Rhys was going to kill him. But he couldn’t possibly leave her here, and he knew for a fact that she didn’t have bad intentions. He put his dagger away before shrugging his gloves on and wordlessly offering them to her.

She hesitated, eyes switching between his face and the gloves, until he just pressed them into her hands. He turned away, saying “Come with me.” Velaris was a long flight from here and they needed to get to a place where the trees weren’t as dense and packed.

“W- what? Where?” he looked over his shoulder to see her trying to catch up to him. Trying and failing.

“What happened to your leg?” she stopped her attempts to stumble over to him, and raised her shoulders a bit.

“I- um- I was taking the path from the port,” she got the words out quickly, stumbling over them, voice shaking “And, there was an animal or- or something and it scared me and- and I ran but I tripped” she gestured to her ankle with a shaky hand.

Azriel let a moment pass, before fully turning in her direction. She took a step back. Sighing, he decided that explaining everything would be the smartest way to go about this. The only way not to scare her more than she already was. “We’re going to fly to my city where you will see a healer. You’ll be free to go wherever you want then”

“And what if I said no?” she tipped her chin up, but it didn’t add a lot of scary effect to what she said.

Azriel’s eyebrow twitched up. “Then I can leave you here, but night is falling. And that down is half a day’s walk in the other direction”

“O-oh” Azriel kept the distance between them as he studied her once again. She looked exhausted and her breathing was alarmingly rapid. She was standing there, shaking and ready to shrink away. And so, he slowly took a few steps in her direction, as if approaching a trapped doe. He supposed he was. He extended his hand towards her.

A pang of unease shot through him at the realization that he wasn’t wearing his gloves; his scars were there in plain sight. But her eyes only stopped on them for a second before she stammered, voice high-pitched. “And- you’re not going to- to hurt me, or- something?”

“I will not hurt you, or allow anyone else to hurt you. I promise” he told her softly. In that moment, that oath was plactating; it was to coax her to let him take her away from this snow filled tundra, before any of them turned into icicles. Before they run into one of the beats dwelling in these woods. Oh, how wrong was his idea of the meaning of that promise. How he’d give his life not to break it; and how his world would shatter when he realized he did.

The shadowsinger of the Night Court didn’t know that yet, though. It was only relief he felt when she hesitantly put her hand in his and let him take her in his arms, before shooting into the sky.

The girl was sitting rigidly on the bed in one of the House’s bedrooms as Madja finished patching her up. The heavy wool blanket he had given her earlier was around her shoulders and clutched tightly between her fingers as her eyes tracked the healer’s every move.

“Alright, dear. You will be just fine but you need to take it easy on that ankle for a few days” the older female said with a warm, calming smile on her face. She didn’t reply.

“Thank you, Madja” he said instead from the corner of the room, where he stood half concealed in his shadows. It took all his strength to keep them off her. They were thoroughly interested in the girl, for a reason Azriel could not decipher yet, but he decided against letting them swarm all over her and scaring her.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m leaving you a tonic in case your leg bothers you” she told the girl as she turned to leave “Keep her close to the fireplace, Shadowsinger” she added as she passed by him. And then she was gone.

An awkward silence fell over the room now that the healer was gone, and Azriel inwardly scolded himself for not knowing what to say. Finally he cleared his throat. “I asked a friend to bring you some clothes, she should be here soon”

She only nodded once, back straight and stiff. A few moments passed of her glancing quickly around the room, studying the view outside the windows with wide eyes. The door to the room suddenly opening had her flinching.

Morrigan came into the chamber like a storm, as she always did, chocolate eyes already sparkling with wonder at the newcomer. Throwing him a greeting over her shoulder, she crossed the room, and walked up to the bed, tight red dress swishing with her every step. Morrigan put the bundle of clothes away and was already talking her ear off, but all Azriel did was study the girl. Eyes wide - that seemed to be their default setting, Azriel concluded - she watched Morrigan, as if strikingly shocked at her mere existence. But the other female didn’t seem to pay it any mind as she fussed over her.

“Oh! It’s so good to have another girl here, you wouldn’t believe it. I mean, there is always Amren, but… nevermind,” she shook her head, turning in Azriel’s direction “Cassian is going to love this! Have you told Rhysand already?” she was practically jumping with amazement at this. And he was almost rolling his eyes.

“No.” he grumbled. Mor only gave a disbelieving, slow shake of her head and brought up a hand to cover her mouth.

“This is huge, Az,” she voiced, but before she could continue the sentence, which he was half sure would send the poor girl into a spiral, with how anxious she already seemed, he stopped her.

“We should let her rest.” he said, which had Morrigan rolling her eyes.

“Oh, fine” she sighed, and pointed in the direction of the girl “But we’re talking tomorrow. I want to get to know you” She winked in Azriel’s direction as she was leaving, and with that, she was gone. Off to pass the gossip onto Cassian, no doubt. This would be a long night.

The visit from the other female seemed to only overwhelm her more. With a furrowed brow and slow steps, Azriel approached her and sat on the other corner of the bed.

“It has been a long day for you, I’m sure” he offered softly “You should sleep”

She only studied him, unsure eyes pausing on his wings and shadows. Although, now that they were alone, her shoulders seemed to drop a bit, curling inwards. She still seemed overwhelmed, maybe more than earlier, but less… scared. Something in Azriel’s chest tightened at the idea that she might feel safe, in any capacity, near him. It was a strange feeling, a notion that was ridiculous given his line of profession. And who he was, in general, but… it moved something in him. Something he hadn’t known was there to be moved at all.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You’re not a prisoner here. My High Lord will probably have some questions to ask you, though” she tensed again “But no one here is going to hurt you. I made you that promise and I intend to keep it”

She nodded and reached over to the clothes Morrigan had brought her earlier. A small, appreciative smile appeared on her face as she looked at him, eyes tearing up a bit. And then she nodded again, as though more to herself, eyes glowing with an emotion he couldn’t recognize, yet.

Azriel shot up in bed, breathing heavily.

He ran a hand through his soaked with sweat hair. This was the third time this week that this memory came back to haunt him. He was starting to think it was the Mother herself punishing him for failing his girl so badly.

Instinctively, desperately he looked around the room, as if she would be there somewhere, as she almost always was. But she wasn’t there. He didn’t know where she was; no one knew where she was. They’d been looking for weeks. He could swear he’d already searched every corner of the Night Court, and he was ready to start tearing it apart.

Every single promise made to her, broken. Like that.

He shifted in his bed.

The ugly thought crossed through his mind, that it was too late already. That he’d allowed himself to come close to a light as bright as her, and now it would be forever dimmed. That he would never lay eyes on it again.

He was well aware he shouldn’t think like that. He’d already dedicated every waking moment to looking for her. And he would find her. He had to. But the truth that he’d been trying for so long to defy came soaring into his mind. It was merciless, the knowledge that it was his fault, that he should’ve seen it coming that it would come to this. It was obvious that he would fail her, at some point, inevitably, and it finally happened, and it was only his own foolishness that allowed him to keep that truth at bay for so many years. He had tried to run from it, from that ugliness he’s been carrying with him for the entirety of his life. But it always came for him in the end. It was in his every footstep, every drop of blood he left behind. Multiplying, chasing him, gaining speed with every moment he spent with her, every smile of his she caused.

And it always got him in the end, every time, and every place. He should’ve known.

And so the Shadowsinger wouldn’t stop searching. Not until all that was left of this world was dust.

taglist: @greenmandm @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @dark-night-sky-99 @ly--canthrope @azrielssgirl @topaz125 @azrielsmate @i-am-infinite @stressed-reader @blonde-bansheee @k-homosapien @azysmate @brekkershadowsinger

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #acotar fandom #azriel fanfic #azriel #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel and his best friend #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction

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littlemillersbaby · 15 hours ago

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meet art's new wife જ⁀➴ reupload from littlesoulshine

𖠁 housewife!reader who wears sheer satin robes, kitten heels, and a constant look of disapproval. art trails behind you like an obedient puppy, always trying to earn your praise. you never raise your voice—you don’t need to....all it takes is a disappointed sigh and he’s on his knees, begging for another chance to make you happy.

𖠁 housewife!reader who gives art the cold shoulder when he forgets something small, like taking the trash out or fluffing your pillows right. he sulks around the house, trailing you, murmuring “i’m sorry, baby” like a prayer. you finally give in and let him crawl between your legs with a smug little, “are you ready to be useful again?” and his eyes get all glassy.

𖠁 housewife!reader who makes art sit in on your weekly girl lunches just so he can carry your purse and refill your wine. the other wives giggle behind their glasses, whispering about how “whipped” he is—but he doesn’t care. you let him rest his head on your thigh under the table and stroke his hair while talking over him. you’re his whole world. he just likes being near.

𖠁 housewife!reader who dresses like a dream and argues like a demon. pink nails tapping on the counter, voice like poisoned honey. art doesn’t even flinch—he thrives in the submission. you call him an idiot, and he smiles. you roll your eyes at his affection, and he kisses your cheek anyway. he likes being your punching bag, especially when he knows you’ll reward him after.

𖠁 housewife!reader who makes art wait at the door like a sad little puppy when he comes home late. you don’t even yell. you just raise an eyebrow, fold your arms, and he immediately starts rambling—“i swear, baby, traffic was—please don’t be mad—i missed you—i love you—” and you just hum, already walking away. he follows like the lovesick fool he is.

𖠁 housewife!reader who loves him, but refuses to let him forget who’s in charge. and he doesn’t want to. he likes being reminded. he likes the leash. likes how you tug it gently with your tone, your look, your hands in his hair. tashi made him feel small in the wrong ways. you make him feel small in the right ones. safe. loved. and completely yours.

𖠁 housewife!reader who lets lily paint her nails and put curlers in her hair while art makes you both lunch. she babbles about school, and when she says, “i wanna be a wife just like you,” you glance at art—who’s smiling like he’s won the lottery—and say, “then pick someone who knows how to serve a woman, honey.”

retags: @inbred-eater @faiszt @cherrygirlfriend @nemesyaaa

notes: thank you to my baby @rafesplaymate for inspiring me to write this!

#💍!#housewife 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡#my !readers #art donaldson #challengers #art donalson x reader #art donaldson smut #art #art challengers #art x reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x female reader #sub!art

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acexsmhking · 2 days ago

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𝕱𝖑𝖎𝖗𝖙, 𝕷𝖚𝖘𝖙, 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝘄𝗼

: ̗̀➛ Knight!Toby x Queen!Reader

˗ˏˋword count: 3,308 ´ˎ˗

Summary: Wanting to escape to the city of Camelot, The Queen decides to have one of Arthur’s fine Knights accompany her. A public introduction that would server them well. With Sir Toby being volunteered, perhaps she can get to know him better?

Warning(s): 18+ content, mentions of infidelity, thoughts of infidelity, struggles with mental health, more plot, devious Toby

Beads of sweat dripped down Gareth’s forehead to his cheeks, wood banging together as he fended off Tobias’s attacks. Both men were tired but only one was able to push himself further. Tristan leaned towards Bors as they watched, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think Gareth will be able to stand tomorrow” He snickered, nudging Bors's arm. Bors scoffed, a slight chuckle in his voice. “No kidding, Tobias has given a proper beating instead of a spar.” He sighed, flinching as Toby laid another good hit on Gareth. Gawain watched intently behind the two older men, as the youngest he absorbed everything he could. Gareth hit the ground with a hard thud, groaning as he simply relaxed into his armor. “Need help?” Toby panted, reaching a hand down to help him up. Gareth nodded a thank you before stalking off to rest. “Gods I can feel it in my toes.” The men let out collective chuckles, Kay and Tristian teased the poor man, poking at the sights of bruising. The sound of the courtyard door opening, two guards stepping out. “Her Grace.” The men bowed, making room for her Highness.

The men scattered to quickly clean their faces, Lamorak helping Tobias to secure his helm. The men stood proud, awkwardness was present in Gareth’s posture trying to act like nothing was amiss. Standing in front of the men your eyes looked them over, noting Gareth and their hair clinging to their heads you finally spoke. “I do hope I'm not.. Intruding.” Gareth cringed, standing straighter as he shook his head. “ ‘Course not, Your Grace. We’re honored with your presence.” Smiling you nodded, perhaps now was not the best moment for the suggestion you had in mind. All of them looked tired and dirty. “I had perhaps hoped for one of you to accompany me into town. Arthur had suggested the idea but perhaps now is not the time.” You mused, playful smile on your lips. The men perked up, accompanying the Queen? That was a great honor, not to mention being able to look upon her. Some of the men protested, it would be no trouble at all, but she merely looked at them in question. No, none of them were quite in the right shape, especially if something should happen. He shifted on his feet before standing forward, voice calm and lacking any shake.

“I can, My Highness.” Toby bowed, obedient as always. How could he miss the chance to accompany her? Her eyes scanned him, he didn’t seem nearly as tired or achy as the others. Absent-mindedly she nodded, stepping forward. “Are you sure, Sir Toby?” She questioned, she truly didn’t want Arthur’s knights to be exhausted beyond measure. Hastily he agreed, Gawain backed him up, stating Toby was the best candidate. She raised a brow but didn’t question them further, she instructed Morgan to discuss the details with Tobias while Elaine and her walked back to her chambers. “Something on your mind, My Lady?” Elaine questioned slyly, watching as The Queen fiddled with her fingers. She would never admit that Sir Toby made her quite nervous. He was silent most of the time simply watching her, face hidden behind his helm. She wouldn’t admit that it intrigued her, she could just command him to show his face. However, that would be.. An abuse of her powers. If Arthur has pardoned him then she must respect it.

“Something light please Morgan, I don’t want to cook out there.” She scoffed a laugh, watching Elaine and Morgan argue what she should wear. Elaine snapped her fingers before reaching to pull out a black box. Morgan raised a brow, carefully lifting up the lid to see. “Elaine absolutely not.” Vehemently shaking her head trying to take it. “Oh come on, His Majesty should remember what he’s missing out on.” She snickered, trying to convince her. The Queen merely stalked towards them. “What is it?” Reaching for the box she opened its lid. Ah, she remembered this dress. An old dress she inherited from her mother— it was eye catching to say the least. It was tight-wear, her mother would say it flattered her perfectly but she would disagree. It was much too easy seeing her stomach, she didn’t even know if she had a good shawl and corset to make the dress decent in public, she wasn’t a color matcher. That was all Elaine. “Come on, it’s light and flattering. Plus, Arthur loved seeing you in this. I’m sure Sir Tobias wouldn’t mind too much.” She teased, trying to turn Her Highness to the dark side.

Morgan raised her arms incredulously, eyes wide. “You’re trying to set her up with His Majesty’s knight?” She accused, voice shrill, while she jabbed a finger at Elaine. “Oh please, His Majesty can fuck mere whores but our Lady can’t be with a good honest man?” She scoffed, laying the box on her bed before turning back to the closet. The Queen held her face in her hands, much too flush to face either of them. Elaine’s blunt words hurt but nothing untrue. She spoke nothing but the truth, why could Arthur have lovers but not her? The Knights were respectable men from noble families. Some even royal like Gawain. It wouldn’t necessarily be downgrading.. Not that Arthur is an upgrade himself. Plus how much could she get under his skin wearing such a dress while another man accompanied her.

Morgan sighed once spotting that evil-cheshire smile on her Lady’s lips. Surrendering, she followed Elaine’s instructions as they dressed The Queen, ensuring she looked presentable but still very admirable. “You look lovely, Your Grace.” Elaine giggled, placing the last pin in her hair, Morgan had scattered off to fetch Sir Toby to escort Her Majesty. The Queen chewed on her lip as she looked in the mirror, was this really a good idea? To use someone else? But still, she’d must admit she looked gorgeous, the thought of how Toby would react made her heart race.

Toby shifted on his feet as he waited outside her quarters, nervous beyond usual he tried calming himself. He was trying desperately to ignore that greedy part of himself, part that he felt ashamed of. He turned briskly hearing the doors open just to feel his heart drop to his ass and back to his throat. To say The Queen looked gorgeous would be an understatement, she looked holy. Breaking from the small trace he hastily bowed before holding out a hand. “My Grace.” That low, hoarse tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine. It felt good, good to take someone by surprise with beauty. While her subjects always praised her beauty, she over time became familiar with it wasn’t as wholly as once before. Especially not by Arthur. The first to always praise her beauty. Smiling graciously she walked around him, head high as her Ladies and The Knight trailed her sides and behind. “What do you think of the city, Sir Toby?” Glancing just for a moment to her side where he trailed behind. Toby nodded his head, weighing out his promise for honesty and the correct appropriate time for his honesty. “The people are… Lively, Your Highness.” He replied, jaw tightening when a particularly sharp jerk occurred. She raised a brow but didn’t question him.

Just before I could reach for the wagon, Arthur called out behind me. His eyes trailing over me with that faint glimmer of recognition. Eat that you lowly pig. Reaching me, he reached for my hands gently holding them surprisingly respecting my request for the least amount of touching possible. “Are you sure you don’t want me coming?” He smiled, doting and loving but I was all too aware of that hopeful spark. Returning his smile, coyly and sly, I shook my head stepping back closer to the carriage. His smile faltered and a flicker of joy seeped into my bones. “I will return before My King needs me.” The sickeningly sweet smile on my lips along with cherished words made me want to vomit. Finally able to relax in the cushion of the carriage, lazily my eyes watched the passing scenery and the walls.. Like a cage. Unconsciously, my eyes drift to Sir Toby. He looked every bit of The Knight he promised to be, strong and resilient. Hastily turning my gaze, noticing his head shift to me. Least he thinks that I need something or worse– His ego growing from my attention.

The ride was beautiful still to say the least. One she enjoyed every time, a small taste of freedom. The carriage stopped in front of her favorite cafe, earlier alerted to The Queen’s arrival. Amara, the kind shop’s owner, waited in front of the door for her with a kind smile on her face. Toby held a hand out, thankful for the gloves hiding his sweaty palms. She smiled kindly, accepting and carefully stepping down she would hate to step on her dress in front of everyone. Carefully closing the door behind her, Tobias walked beside her as they walked into the shop. He couldn’t help looking at that relaxed smile and not the tense practiced one she used with Arthur. He could practically smell their tension, curious as to what he could’ve done. He knew better however to not question royals about their affairs. Taking her in he couldn’t help it as his eyes drifted to her top. Gods she was beautiful – and he was a pervert.

Sitting down she thanked Amara before walking off to prepare her order. While it might not be made from the fine chefs of the castle, Amara’s food was comforting to say the least. A great comfort she found herself needing more and more. The life of a royal is practically lonely, not able to trust much or be trusted much. Nothing more than a game within a game. Sitting straight with her manners she was thankful that Elaine chose a more comfortable corset. “Would you like a seat, Sir Toby?” He shook his head, bowing with his arms behind his back. “I’m fine, My Queen.” His voice was soft, not that same boisterous tone that Arthur had. He was so.. Gentle in the way he handled things – handled her. She knew his kindness and fine manners shouldn’t impress her, he was trained like this. It was his job, nothing more. Carefully Amara and a few other of her employees brought out food and drinks. Placing them down Amara asked if anything else was needed before heading off into the back to allow them privacy.

“Tell me Sir Toby, how did you and Arthur meet?” She blew softly on the hot tea before her. He moved to clasp his hands in front of him, moving just a bit closer so she’d be able to understand him under his helm. “My mother brought me to court and presented me in front of him.” He chuckled, remembering fondly of his first met with him. “I was so nervous I couldn’t stop twitching, constantly cracking my knuckles.” He sighed, cringing just how much of a fool he made himself, though Arthur would argue otherwise. Always did, always reminded him how special he was. Only thing he truly liked about Arthur, his compliments. Always giving so freely, as if he was made to do it. Of course, Tobias knew when men wore masks, he just couldn’t figure out Arthur’s.

“Who’s your mother?” Brow piqued as she turned slightly to look at him. “You might know her as the Lady of the Lake.” Briefly Elaine paused before continuing to eat, Queen relaxed into her seat. “The sorceress?” Tobias nodded, shifting and trying to distract himself. “She took in me and my brothers. Bors and Lionel.” Thinking back she did notice they both looked the same, but she never saw Tobias to make the connection. “What happened to your birth family?” Tobias shrugged, straightening his back. “I never knew, never cared too either.” Queen hummed, the rest of the evening spent in silence with small talk sprinkled here and there.

Tobias walked silently behind you, Morgan and Elaine having gone to complete errands on your behalf. Inviting him in, you sat on the couch before beckoning him closer. “Thank you, Sir Toby. I greatly appreciate your protection and the chance of knowing you.” He bowed deeply, taking a moment you also appreciated how elegant his armor looked. “Of course. The honor is wholly mine own.” He raised, standing straighter trying to fight the slouch in his back. “Might I ask, since we are alone — why do you hide?” Lounging back, you watched him fidget just for a few seconds before having mercy on him. Smiling coyly as you remind him he doesn’t have to answer. He does, but you had basic human decency.

“I.. I am not privileged with beauty, My Queen.” He turns his head, looking briefly ashamed. Furrowing your brows, you stood walking towards him. “You need not to be ashamed of looks, you are accomplished. You are something to be proud of.” Speaking softly, stopping a tad closer than you probably should but wishing to convey comfort. “Just remember you are safe in these walls, do not feel like you must hide forever.” He almost choked when your hand reached for his. The gauntlets making your hands seem even smaller, ever fragile as you smiled at him. He knew beauties, his mother was beyond beauty herself. But you? Gods, you spoke to him. He flinched when his fingers cracked around your hands, hastily stepping back as he bowed.

“Apologies, your kindness. It— it means everything to me, My Queen.” Your heart swelled, he was simply too cute. Always so well mannered and.. devoted. “You may rest, Sir Toby.” Excusing him, you watched him leave before slumping on your bed. Comforting him felt nice, but now you felt nothing but nerves. Had you overstepped? Would he tattle to Arthur. Your mind was a small mess in and out of the day, Elaine was more than delighted to hear of the private chat, most certain he liked you.

If only you knew half the truth, him silently standing right under your balcony everyday. Looking at the great tree you have such a perfect view of. He could only dream of standing up there with you, so far above from where he stood. Able to hear your singing, your thoughts—what troubles you. He sat quietly on the cold stone, finally removing his helm for fresh air. Being especially mindful of the gnash on his cheek, he’d cut the already-open wound enough. Head laid against the cold cobblestone he could faintly hear you and the ladies chatting. His lip twitched as they started asking about him, you sounded so flustered.

Just before he closed his eyes, quick rest to sound of you, he spotted Bors marching towards him. Cursing silently he quickly motioned for him to quiet himself. Bors quirked a brow but walked carefully. “What are you doing?” He whispered, he was supposed to come to the table after returning with The Queen. “Just having a quick rest, needed to calm myself.” It wasn’t all a lie, His Queen had made his heart spike just a little. He could feel the adrenaline rushing in his body.. especially a certain area. Bors grunted, waving him off. His motions stopped before he could say anything when he heard you. His eyes narrowed at Tobias, grabbing him by his neck and yanking him up. “Why are you here?” He growled, staring him down. Toby raised his hands in a mock surrender, a crooked grin on his lips.

“Just resting here by chance.” He snickered, Bors dragging him off he threw one quick glance to your balcony. Strolling into the room, Kay and Gawain were the only ones with The King. A large map flung over the table with Gawain trying to prove his worth in battle plans. “You might actually be a Knight yet.” Kay teased, bumping his own hip with the prodigy. “Ah! Toby, how was the trip.” Arthur wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The contact making him stiffen at first but quickly he leaned into his touch. “Just fine, Your Majesty. No threats to The Queen.” Arthur nodded, slouching in his seat resting his head in his hands. “Everything alright, Sire?” Toby questioned, sitting on his own chair. “Nothing just.. I should go see her. I’ve been busy! Neglecting her, can’t have that.” He chuckled nervously. Bidding fair due and quickly making his way to you.

You glance to the door hearing a soft knock, assuming it’s either of your ladies. Gently you placed your brush down before calling out. “Who is it?” Arthur peeked his head in, a nervous smile when he saw you. Quickly your face fell, standing and moving to your couch. “What.. Sire.” Arthur flinched at your voice, the snap almost whipping him. “Just wished to see my wife is all.” You covered your mouth when an ugly snort escaped you. Arthur’s eyes trailed down her figure, stalking towards her. You narrowed your eyes, crossing arms over your chest— it felt good to see him still react like this. So much want in his eyes, if only he hadn’t messed everything up.

His hands reached to your waist, slowly and so cautiously pulling you towards him. You didn’t pull away, but he could feel the stiff taunt in your muscles. Gently bumping his head against yours and taking the time to sneakily wrap his other arm around you. “You look beautiful, my dear.” He muttered, breathlessly taking you all in. It had been so long since he’d been able to hold you, smell you. Anything truly. Mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying to turn away from him. He merely pulled you closer, taking a deep whiff of your hair and savoring it. “Please, let me stay. Not for anything other than your presence.” You almost swore you saw water lining his eyes. That damn puppy-face that once could convince you of anything. Anything at all as he made excuse after excuse. Lie after lie.

You felt that familiar quiver in your heart. Why? Why had he been so damn stupid? Why had he been a man? And not yours? You could see it so clearly, that love— trapped in his soul. Chained by his stupidity. Pressing your lips to a thin line before he could see them quake. Missing this— his smell, his touch. But there was hate now. Hate for how much you missed it. Hate for the fact you had to miss it. Hate for everything about him but not for him. Why couldn’t you hate him? The cold detachment and grudges tore your heart apart. Never able to quite make peace. Never able to understand why. A small flinch as his nose brushed against yours, feeling his hairs tickle your face. You remembered everything too well. His love, his joy, his care.. and the disregard of his loyalty. His vows.

The perfect King, the perfect man but how could he not be the perfect husband? How. Was it you? Those thoughts made your heart hurt— as if someone grabbed it and squeezed with all their might. No, it wasn’t you. He did it. He made the decision. You were a perfect wife, perfect woman and perfect Queen. You fulfilled your rolls, your vows. Turning away, prying his hands off you. His heart dropped, so close and so far. He wanted to scream at you how sorry he was. How he wanted you to just.. do anything. Anything but leave. He missed having you in his bed, his room— hell even his bathroom! Not your sex, but you. “Goodnight, Arthur.” Anything but how you said his name like a sin.

: ̗̀➛ Had to lock in for the last part. I think Chapter three I’m going to really start building on Queen and Toby’s relationship!! I hope you all enjoyed it and I’m sorry it took me so long. Just been struggling. Love you all!

— Ace

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanons #ace squabbles ♠️#ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta ticci toby #toby rogers #x black reader #black reader #x poc reader #poc reader #chubby reader #chubby

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debtofdeception-if · 13 hours ago

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Awwwn I need some fluffy author! Pretty little please!

What would A do with a baby kiddo who would always clingy to mcs neck, and be super insufferable and teary eyed when mc was not around?

This is kind of long, but I thought it was cute 😂. I used a F!MC named Anora, a M!A, and a M!Kiddo named Shiloh.

No!” Shiloh screams, clinging to Anora’s neck with both arms. He buries his face in her shoulder as she tries to gently peel him off.

“Come on, baby,” she coaxes softly. “Mommy has to go. I need you to let go now.”

Alaric steps in front of them, wrapping his arms around Shiloh’s waist to help. “Yeah, bud, come on. We’re gonna have so much fun, right?”

Shiloh shakes his head hard. “No!”

Alaric winces. “Really starting to regret teaching him that word,” he mutters under his breath.

With some effort, Anora manages to slip free. Alaric seizes the chance and lifts Shiloh away, but just as he does, Shiloh reaches out and grabs a fistful of Anora’s hair.

“Ah! Shiloh, please let go of Mommy’s hair!” she gasps, her face twisting in pain.

Alaric tries to pry Shiloh’s fingers loose, but his grip is stubborn. “Jeez, could probably get you in the Guinness World Records with this grip strength,” he jokes, but his smile fades when Anora shoots him a glare.

“Alaric. Not the time.”

“Right, sorry,” he says quickly, focusing on her tangled strands. “Shiloh, you’re hurting Mommy. You don’t want to do that, right? Let’s just…”

Finally, the grip loosens. Anora pulls away fast, rubbing her scalp where the strands had been yanked. Alaric secures Shiloh in his arms, but he immediately starts squirming and kicking. His little legs flail, and his onesie becomes ruffled from the scuffle.

The front door swings open as Anora steps out, rushing now that the delay has cost her time. “I’ll be back, munchkin. I love you,” she calls, blowing a kiss and waving before heading out.

Almost instantly, the crying starts. Shiloh lets out a long, warbling whine, his body going limp in Alaric’s arms as his wide eyes fill with tears.

“Mommy no leave… come back, Mommy,” he sobs, voice cracking.

Alaric stands frozen, unsure of what to do. The sobbing won’t stop, even as he tries rocking him gently, patting his back, whispering soft reassurances. Still, nothing helps. Then, an idea hits him.

“Hold on, bud. One second.”

He sets Shiloh down carefully and hurries to his workshop. His eyes scan cluttered shelves until he sees what he’s looking for: a small, dusty toy robot. The little blue robot had once been his pride and joy. It had taken weeks of trial and error to get it to work, but he remembers that feeling of satisfaction when he finally did. He hasn’t touched it in years, so he’s unsure if it will still work, but he’s hopeful.

Grabbing the controller, he hurries back to the living room. Shiloh is lying near the door, curled up and crying into his arms. His small back trembles with each hiccuping sob.

Alaric kneels nearby and powers on the toy. The robot buzzes to life. Its rubber treads begin zigzagging across the floor until it halts in front of Shiloh. Alaric presses a button, and the robot starts playing a soft lullaby. Its stubby arms lift in rhythm as colored lights blink across its chest. It spins in place, waving its arms in a motion that is supposed to resemble dancing.

At first, Shiloh doesn’t move. His face stays hidden. But then, a single teary eye peeks out. The robot twirls again. Lights flash as it lifts its arms once more.

A shaky giggle breaks through Shiloh’s tears.

Alaric exhales, surprised to realize he had been holding his breath. With a soft smile, he crosses over and pulls Shiloh into his lap.

“You like him?” he asks, handing the robot over. Shiloh’s small hands wrap around it in curiosity.

“He’s cool, huh?” Alaric says, voice low and gentle. “Even though I haven’t played with him in a long time, I still remembered him. I still came back for him. I always will.” He kisses the top of Shiloh’s head. “Just like Mommy. She loves you way too much to ever leave for good. You’re too special.”

Alaric knows Shiloh probably can’t comprehend everything he just said. But that doesn’t stop him from saying it. Some things are worth hearing, even if they aren’t fully understood.

Shiloh rests against him, finally calmed down. Together, they watch the robot spin and dance across the floor. The lights reflect off Shiloh’s cheeks, still shiny from tears, as his little fingers press the buttons with newfound focus.

And just like that, everything feels okay again.

#ask #DOD #debt of deception #Scenario

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moth2flamewriting · 2 days ago

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Guysss, the feedback has been so nice and feeling so much support from the fanfiction world. As always I appreciate you all reading! ❤️

Some one suggested I write from Smoke's POV and honestly I love that! So here's a little take!

Trying to find longevity in my ideas so it's taking me longer to push out! Nonetheless, here we go.

Smoke x Annie

Warning: Sexual Content.

ENJOY.

I was in the Delta after 7 suem years. Chicago ran its course and Stack and I were ready to go.

Home was the first place I wanted to come back to. I had somebody waiting on me. Two somebody's and I didn't know how to approach it.

"Boy I see you getting tense," Stack joked. I laughed it off. But i was tense.

I was nervous. Cause all I could think of was her. If she'd have me back. If she felt the same. I was sweating.

"Stack, think you can drop me off by Annie's?" I asked.

"Fasho' but don't get too caught up. We still got business to handle," he replied.

To be honest, I ain't come here for no juke. I came for her. The juke just something to keep me here.

"You think she'll have me back?" I could always open up to my brother. He never judged me, never made me feel dumb for wanting someone I aint seen in 7 years.

"Oh she'll have you back. You can't get rid of a Moore. No matter how many spells she cast," he grinned. That relaxed me a bit. But I still had a bit of unease going into this situation.

It's like she knew I was coming. She was standing right on the front porch. Hand on hip. God she was beautiful.

Chocolate skin that danced in the sunlight. Beautiful brown eyes that cut right throught you. She was perfect and hopefully.. she was mine.

I got out of the car, closing the door and adjusting my clothes. Even though Stack starch and pressed my clothes perfectly. Under her eye, I was nervous.

I approached her anyway.

"And what do you want?" she sucked her teeth.

Damn, right out the gate she was fiesty.

"I came to see you, I really need to talk to you," I replied.

Her eyes rolled so hard to the back of her head, I thought they were gonna fall out.

"Elijah please don't come around here on no bullshit." She was mad. She had every right.

And my nerves were dancing.

"Annie, I just wanna be civiliz-," she cut me off. "You think I give a damn about being civilized with you? You done rolled in from God knows where and what?," her arms were swinging back and forth in the air with every word.

But I knew her. I knew to just be honest here. One thing we always said was to just be honest.

"I came here to make things right with ya," I stumbled over my words. "It's not a day that went by that I didn't want you." I sunk into myself under her glare.

A moment of silence passed between us. The air was so thick.

I could see the wheels turning in that pretty head of hers. Looking for questions ask. Looking for answers. Needing an explanation.

"Where you been Smoke?"

"Chicago." I replied, wanting to meet her with full honesty I raised my head and stood up straight.

"Why you leave with no explanation?"

"If I would've told you, I would've stayed and I was too scared to do that."

She leaned back into her thoughts. Wheels turning in her head so hard, I could see steam coming out her eats.

"What was you doin' down there?"

"Working." I knew that wouldn't be a good enough answer.

"Working on fucking what, Smoke? Be so fuckin' serious right now," her left eyebrow was raised now and she couldn't even try to hide the irritation if she wanted to.

"We went up there to make some money, it was dangerous. Got into some shit. Came back down here to lay low." I knew it sounded like bullshit. I knew I would need answers.

"So what? You here cause you needa' place to stay?" she cackled. I wasn't welcomed here. At least that's what it felt like. "You got one more chance to tell me why you here and then I'm gon leave you where you standing," her hands were on her hips now.

"I want you. I tried to convince myself that I was coming back here for other reasons but, I know that aint true. The only thing I came for is you, Annie." Her feet shifting, she back thinking and to be honest I knew I was fucked.

"Did you fuck anybody while you was in Chicago?" Her face was dead straight. I swallowed hard. Nervous as fuck to tell her.

"Yes."

What once was the fiesty woman in front of me now look like a lost puppy. I broke her. Tears welled in her eyes and I had no way to fix it. I fucked up. I knew I fucked up.

The moment I was intimate with someone else I felt our connection sever. But that was my first month or so in Chicago. I was lonely and sad. And instead of writing my wrongs with her, I chose to be with someone else.

"Leave," she said throught sniffles.

She looked up at me. Eyes red.

"Leave, Elijah." I didn't move.

She approached me, so close that she's breathing what I am exhaling.

"I waited for you. My body waited. My mind waited. I waited for you and you left me high and dry. Then you come back all these years and what?" She's crying so hard. Fist balled up, pounding my chest. I let her. I deserve it.

"Annie, you gotta understand. Soon as I did it i regretted it. That was 7 years ago-"

"It don't matter Elijah. Somebody had a piece of you that was mine. Sacred to just us," her head was down now.

I feel like shit.

She planted her hands on both sides of my chest.

"I had some type of hope for us all this time. I just knew that my man would come back to me," her voice cold.

"I am right here," I'm pleading. My hands wrap around her waste but she pushes me off.

"I want you gone." She turned away from me, walked back into her house and, closed the door.

I couldn't give up so easy, I needed her back. So I walked up the stairs and I sat on the chair. I stayed there. 'As long as it takes.' I would do whatever to have her.

I heard shuffling inside, which prompted me to look up. It was her, in the window. Unimpressed. She closed the blinds and I was met with the sound of the door locking. Which meant GO AWAY. But I wasn't doing that.

The next morning..

I don't think she expected to see me, being as thought she let out a scream when she opened her front door to me sitting there.

"You scared the shit out of me," she exclaimed holding her chest. "What are you still doing here?"

"I want you," I said.

She let out a laugh that would hurt any mans pride.

She went along her day. Running errands, the shop, chores and visits with friends.

She acted as if I wasn't there. And that hurt me bad. Bit I deserved it.

I could hear an engine sputtering from down the road. Wondering who it could possibly be.

It was Stack. "Bro, she got you sitting outside her door like you a stray cat." He was laughing and it broke me out of my mood.

"Man she aint fuck with me, AT ALL," I chuckled quietly.

"I just rode by to see wassup wit ya," he said. "I figured Annie stubborn ass wasn't going for that."

"Nigga you said fasho she was gon have me back. Yo punk ass just be talkin," I recanted with a weak ass smile.

"Sittin' outside her door gon do the trick, you know she aint got the heart to be so cruel," he said.

"Speaking of which, think you can roll me up a couple cigarettes? If ima sit here, Ima smoke sum."

"Fasho, I got 6 rolled up for you right here. Figured you'd need em,"

We said our goodbyes and he was gone whever the wind to em.

I sat back down in my spot and watched as the sun began to go down.

The front door lock came undone and it creaked open.

It was her. Checking on me. Even thought she was so tough yesterday.

"You ate today Elijah?"

"I be sittin' here all day, aint going nowhere til I got you." I was determined.

"You so damn extra. Just come eat." She walked away but left the door open. I followed her in.

...

Fried fish, cornbread, cabbage, yams and mac.

Her food was so good, I had 3 plates. But once the scraping of my fork against the plate stopped, the tension came back.

"Was the food good?"

"You know the food was good Annie." I'm getting irritated because where is this going. Even though I had no right to be upset.

I just want her back. But I know I gotta get through the hard part first.

Her eyes went black, I could see she was working herself up.

"When you fucked her did you like it?"

Here we go.

"I'm a man Annie," I answered honestly. "but I wanted you."

She laughed, unconvinced.

"You wanted me so bad, you went and fucked somebody else."

I took it. I deserved it.

"Was her pussy better than mine?"

I hate that I even let shit get so bad between us that she even thought to compare herself to some random girl. That was my fault.

"Nobody will ever be better than you," I was honest.

"Did you give her your seed?"

"Fuck no, the only person I've ever given that to is you."

I stood up and walked over to her, my turn to invade her space.

Both our chest rising and falling at the same time, due to close proximity.

"Smoke back up," she's moving away from me with her hand up to create space.

"No," I back her into a wall.

I kiss her. Immediately her hands go to the back of my head pulling me in closer. She opens her mouth to grant my tongue entrance. Our spit being exchanged, I pulled back from the feverish kiss. I look into her eyes and I am madly in love.

I leave a trail of kisses from her lips to her neck. Swirling my tongue in circles, sucking hard and soothing it with a soft kiss. My hands found her ass, pulling and squeezing it. Eliciting moans and gasps.

"Smoke," she whimpers. "We shouldn't be doing this."

That didn't stop me, I was in and she wasn't going to stop me.

I slip my hands into the front of her waistband to find a hot and wet pussy. Coating my fingers in her sex, she throws her had back up against the wall.

I'm swiping over her pussy with just enough pressure to get her close but not enought to go over the edge.

"Elijah.. I- Ahh-," she couldn't even speak I was fingering her pussy so good.

The moment was abandoned with a stiff push. She pushed me off her. 'Did I hurt her?'

"I can't do this. I can't let you hurt me the way you did. And you get to just.. come back?" She was standing firm in her boundary. And I was at a loss for words.

"Annie, I'm trying to show you," fat ass knot in my throat.

"I can't take your word for it Elijah. It has to be constant, not when you want it."

She walked to the mirror at the end of the hallway. I followed. Only, talking to me through the reflection and not turning around to address me head on.

"I think you should go,' her head tucked damn near between her shoulders.

"I'm gonna leave now, but I will prove to you that this IS constant. That I never stopped loving you. That I want to be with you," not caring if I convinced her in this moment. I was convinced. I was getting her back and that was final.

She walked me to the door and before I made it down the steps she called after me.

"I hope you stand firm in your words," followed by a weak smile on both our ends.

"I will," and I turned from her with my head held high.

I was going to get her back. If it is the last thing I do.

#annie x smoke #sinners 2025 #fanfic #smoke moore #black woman appreciation #annie moore #sinners annie smoke fanfiction #annie stack fanfiction

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911coded · 3 days ago

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I Can Go Anywhere I Want, Just Not Home. Where Is Home?

I don’t usually write after episode one shots, but I was inspired by this post and helped by @bidisasterevankinard when I couldn’t remember if Buck and Bosko had even spoken to each other. Also, I’ve never written drunk dialogue before and ended up modeling it after myself. I will slur one sentence, forget words, make up new ones, then speak the next sentence in full English. 🤷🏻‍♀️

The next night after shift, he pulls over into an empty parking lot before the turn to his house and sits in it, this feeling. Forget having trouble sleeping there, he doesn’t even want to be there. Will Eddie and Chris be waiting? In the moment, seeing Chris again for the first time in a year, he was able to push aside this feeling. But it’s curdling in his stomach like that time he accidentally drank spoiled milk and he’s afraid he will vomit up all the pain and anger he’s been trying to carry. The anger is new, must be at the next stage, or might just be Eddie’s fault. That’s it, he’s finding someplace to sit and have a drink, he can uber “home” when he can go straight to bed.

The badge and ladder bar only a few minutes from his house wasn’t full, but enough people were milling around inside to get lost in the crowd. Buck thought he recognised the handful of firefighters surrounding the pool tables, but only from scenes, not anyone he knew personally. A couple of minutes after sitting at the bar and scanning the crowd, the bartender made her way over to him. He handed over a card to start a tab, ordered a beer to sip, and a hand full a shots to get started. After he tossed the first one back, he looked the bartender in the eyes. “This is a terrible idea, but I’m about to make this all about me. I’ve had a shit few weeks, my captain died, and I’ve spent so much time trying to keep my team together, this is the first time I’ve had a chance to be still without a list to work from. This is either going to make me feel better, or a whole lot worse. If I start crying to the point of embarrassing, please call my ICE contact, but no one else, even if he doesn’t answer. He’ll answer, though, he always does,” he explained. The bartender stared back at him, silent and stoic, but nodded at him seriously. He nodded back and picked up the next shot.

After the fourth shot, “ICE. Fuck ICE. We should come up with a new name for your emergency contact, workshop it, spread the word.” The bartender tilted her head in question with a quirked eyebrow. “Hmmm, bet I can make it go viral. I have-I have a lot of instagram followers. Bobby would like that. We didn’t talk about it, and I don’t think I ever heard him curse but Bobby would say it too, cause fuck ICE.” Buck waved a hand emphatically and the bartender grabbed a glass before he could send it crashing to the floor.

The bartender was good. She kept the shots coming but made sure he paced himself and occasionally placed a glass of water in front of him with a blank stare until he drank it. “He was a good guy, but he was wrong, they don’t need me. Not now. But maybe I need them? Maybe that’s what he meant? It hurts to need people, though. Hurts when they shut you out, when they leave,” Buck continued with a sniff. Someone settled in the stool next to him and flagged down the bartender who had taken a moment to serve some young women at the end of the bar.

“Buckley? Hey man, you’re crying.” Buck turned to the voice and squinted at the woman sitting next to him. He knows her. Maybe? Oh.

“Bosko? Oh.” Buck touches his face and he can feel the wetness there even if he hadn’t noticed that the crying had begun. “Must not be too embarrassing yet since the bartender hasn’t called my ICE. Fuck ICE, we need to work on that.”

Bosko snorts in amused bemusement. “Yeah, fuck ICE. What are you doing here alone, Buckley? Where’s the rest of your crew?” she asked. She settles into the barstool and turns to face him.

“Don’t know, they aren’t really talking to me right now. I’m sad wrong? Or too concerned about if they are sad? Not sure yet. Eddie is at my place and he is talking too much. Ashhole. Sad wrong for him, too. Make everything about me, selfish. Captain Dad dies but not about me. Said-said I dn’t do enough, could do better. Got in my face, no sorries, just more mean. You were there, you saw. Once is an incident, twice is a-a coinkydink, three times is a pattern; I shouldn’t have to be afraid that my friend is going to hit my face in my own-my own cooking room. Did that once, 0/10 stars, would not recommend. At least he said sorry, made effort to make up. Am I still crying?” Buck asked, trying to make sense but pretty sure he was failing, nothing new there. Bosko had a fierce frown, not scrunchy like Tommy’s.

“Did dickhead Diaz hit you? Is that why you’re in here mourning your captain alone instead of with your crew? Do they know?” she asked, looking around to be sure she didn’t see any firefighters from the 118.

“No, that was Chim, brother. Long time ago, said sorry. Meant it. We’re good. Chim angry at Bobby for dying but not mad at me. Eddie mad at me. Dickhead Diaz, good one,” Buck replied with a giggle.

“I worked with that asshole for months, he didn’t know anything about me but somehow thought we were good friends. He told me all about you, his family, and his kid, but not once did he ask me about mine. Friendship is a one way street for that guy, and if you don’t stay in that perfectly shaped box he put you in, he gets frustrated and angry. He’s a dickhead, I told him we were not friends and walked away, haven’t heard from him since,” she shared.

“No, wouldn’t, didn’t need you anymore. Had me back. Sad. No, stupid. We should start a club. Edmundo Diaz sucky friend club. We need more members. Oh Josh! And Tommy! Was jealous of Eddie taking attention of hot pilot….with a cleft. Edmundo stopped talking to Tommy too! Said it was about me, but thas dumb. Dumb. Am I embarrassin’ yet? Time to call Tommy come get me?” Buck asked with a flutter of his lashes.

“Buckley. Dickhead Diaz doesn’t know how to have conversations that aren’t about him. And he has really good aim, so every fight is an opportunity to cause the most damage. Don’t let him do that to you, man, nobody deserves that, okay?” Bosko insisted.

“Ok. Don’t deserve damage. I’ll be okay. Bobby loved me. Two outta three works, I guess.”

Bosko sighs with a sad shake of her head and flags down the bartender. “Did he give you his phone? I’m pretty sure it’s time to call his ride,” Bosko said. When she turns back to check on him, Buck has folded his arms on the vaguely sticky bartop and is using them for a pillow, blinking slowly at her like a cat. The bartender shakes her head and when Buck actually hears her speak, it’s almost enough to get him to sit up again.

“It’s in his shirt pocket. I’ll close out his tab.” With that, Buck and Bosko are alone again.

“I think you’ve hit the embarrassing stage now, bud, how about I call your ICE?” Bosko asks, as gently as he had ever heard her speak.

“Fuck ICE,” Buck mumbled, blinks getting further and further apart, but he reached into his pocket and handed her his phone so she wouldn’t have to fish for it. His attention wandered and he vaguely heard Bosko’s side of the conversation enough to know that Tommy answered. “Yay!” he exclaimed softly, and raised an arm to fist pump that weakly thumped back to the bar top.

The bartender came back with a receipt, his card, and another glass of water. “Sign. Then drink. Thank you,” she demanded, then gave one more nod now that she had imparted her instructions and wandered away to do bartender things.

After he gulped down half the glass of water and signed a somewhat legible signature, he turned to look at Bosko. “I think she might be the strangest yet most interesting bartender I’ve ever met and I’ve been a bartender. A lot.” Bosko rolled her eyes but nodded anyway to concede his point. It may have been moments or hours when Buck felt a familiar warm hand rest on his lower back and the tension Buck had been carrying around for weeks seemed to seep out of his pores. Tommy. That’s what he had needed this whole time. Dumb. Should have known.

“Evan. Are you okay?” Tommy asked, forehead scrunched up in concern.

Buck twisted up into a mostly sitting position and beamed at Tommy which seemed to shock him into silence, if the wide eyes blinking at him were any indication. Bosko snorted and rolled her eyes at him again.

“He’s fine Kinard. He had a deal with the bartender to call you if the crying became embarrassing,” Bosko answered for Buck who was still beaming up at Tommy dreamingly.

Buck pointed at Bosko. “Yes! I’m sad and making it about me, but that’s ok. It’s my turn and it helped. I think. And Bosko’s here! We didn’t talk when she was my replacement but I think I like her and the bartender is really interesting,” he informed the still bemused Tommy.

“And hot,” Bosko pointed out with a smirk at Buck who had given up on sitting straight and was slumped against Tommy.

Buck’s forehead creased with an offended pout. “Well, yeah, but interesting. More important. Don’t obje-objec….that word. More than pretty. INTERESTING. But I’m done now. Tommy, I’m tired, take me home? Not with Eddie. Don’t-don’t want to see him. Dickhead,” he pleaded as he increased the pout by a factor of ten and fluttered his eyelashes in Tommy’s direction.

Bosko snorts out another laugh and holds out a hand to shake. “Buckley, take care of yourself. I’m sorry about your Captain Dad, he was a good man. Call me some time to hang out, you are a fun drunk. Kinard,” she said and with a friendly nod, went back to her friends at the pool tables.

Buck turns back to Tommy and looks up at him with the look that he knows turns him to mush. “Thank you for coming to get me, Tommy. You always come when I call, you’re the best. Take me home and tuck me in? I always sleep better with you and I’m so tired,” he pleaded.

Tommy sighs with a small smile and hauls Buck out of the barstool and on to his feet. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ll take you home and you can tell me more about Dickhead Diaz in the morning. I’m glad you called me,” he assures Buck and guides him out the door to his truck to go home.

#post S8E17 Don’t Drink The Water #bucktommy #911 abc #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buckley #lena bosko #writing #bucktommy fic #911 fic #bri writes fanfic #dickhead diaz

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chaifootsteps · 22 hours ago

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Hi, I'm the anon who rewrote the Stella and Andrephelus conversation from western energy a while ago ( here https://www.tumblr.com/chaifootsteps/756199473054711808/bit-of-a-quick-rewrite-of-stella-and-andrealphus?source=share ) and I just wanted to send an Alternate Ending I wrote for "Seeing Stars" because the actual ending pissed me off

Stella had been expecting many things when her daughter called her that evening. Talking about how her day with Stolas went, or if they had gone to get her more taxidermy pieces, or something positive. What she wasn’t expecting was her daughter’s voice meekly saying:

“I… I’m sorry. But can… can you please send a driver to pick me up from dad’s? Please…”

No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, the swan jumped into action, ordering her servants to get a car to pick up her daughter, and to make sure she arrived safely. If Octavia was even more upset or there was even the smallest feather out of place when she arrived, heads would roll, quite possibly literally given Stella’s temper. The owlet soon arrived, shaking with emotion and barely concealed tears running down her face.

“What happened, my little star?”

Stella led Octavia inside, instructing the servants to bring her something to eat and drink. It took some time for her daughter to calm down. Stella wasn’t prepared for what her daughter asked her.

“Why… Why does dad love that red dickhead more than he loves me?”

Octavia sounded so broken, like she had been disappointed one too many times. Octavia relayed her day to her mother, Stella growing more and more angry at Stolas for what he did. It was bad enough his affair had gone on for so long, that their daughter knew the Grimoire, her birthright, wouldn’t be at home with her father, but instead given away to the imp he was using.

But then the fact Octavia didn’t know any spells because of her father, and combined with that pathetic man forgetting the day their owlet had been dreaming of since she was a child? Stella nearly called Striker then and there to blow his brains out, but she needed to stay calm, she needed to listen to Andrephelus’ plan for now, lest Octavia end up in an even worse position.

“A-And his Hellhound or daughter I guess said I needed to give dad a break because he was trying, and then she turned around and kicked her own dad? Is it a joke to her? Did she tell me that just to shut me up? So I’d go back to dad? Why did he even need them to come find me?”

Why indeed. Stolas could’ve found Octavia easily since she had the Grimoire all day, he can find it no matter what. For fuck’s sake, he could’ve just called her, even if she didn’t pick up or hung up on him, it would’ve showed he was trying. But, no, Stolas has his head too far up his own rear end, caring more about his little plaything than their daughter.

Octavia was still a child, she still just wanted her father, and Stolas continuously failed her, not only in her lessons, but spending time with her.

“Did she only do it because dad paid them to find me?”

Now, Octavia could’ve been assuming there, but Stella wouldn’t put it past Stolas. He used his power, money, and status to keep that imp and his company under his thumb. There was a big chance that Stolas had once again paid them to care, like when they had gone to ‘Loo Loo Land’. Originally, Stella blamed that lowly imp as much as her husband, before overhearing one of Stolas’ conversations with the imp.

There was no genuine love there, just Stolas fulfilling some fantasy, in their fucking bed, in their home, around their daughter. And that would just continue, as Octavia had to give the book back to the imp, her father obviously caring more about his power over said imp than the fact their daughter needed to learn her birthright.

Octavia was seventeen already, and didn’t know any spells. She only knew basic magic, not anything that would help her with being the heir. She would need hours of remedial classes, if they could even get all of it done by her eighteenth birthday, if they even had that much time. Should Andrephelus’ plan work, Stolas would be stripped of title and status by the end of the year.

Not that Stolas cared if Octavia knew the spells or not, his selfishness knew no bounds. He’d rather have spent the either day screaming and fighting with Stella than take one Satan-damned minute to check a calendar. He could’ve told Stella ‘I can’t do this today, it’s a special day for Via.’, but no, that didn’t fit into Stolas’ fantasy. Though of course, you could bet he always had the full moon’s dates memorized, because his own needs were more important.

“Don’t worry, my beautiful, wonderful star.” Stella said softly, wiping Octavia’s tears. “I’ll take care of it.”

That was beautiful, Anon. Thank you so much for writing these.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #actual blog post.

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bloomzone · 2 days ago

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💭. ˎˊ˗Jα𐓣𝗀 wo𐓣𝗒oυ𐓣𝗀 o𐓣𝖼𝖾 𝗌α𝗂ᑯ

Okay, sometimes wonyoung says things that just hit. It’s stuff that actually gives you a little push when you need it . I’m not here to just repost her quotes (wish I worked hard to extract them and translate them ) I’m here to talk about them, break them down, and explain why they matter. Like how they can help you with your mindset and life in general.

if y'all like it i will make more of them !

enjoy part 1 !

"Which is worse: the struggle of preparing, or the disappointment of a bad result?For me, I think I’d hate the disappointing grade more.So even though it’s tough, try to use this time wisely study efficiently, and work hard so you can feel proud.Once the exam is over, you’ll have time to rest and enjoy yourself. Even just a little bit.That’s why I think the most important thing is to give it your best, so you have no regrets."

- jang wonyoung vlive

﹙ ✿ ﹚

🗒️: the question of “Which is worse the struggle of preparing, or the disappointment of a bad result?” is a reality cuz the truth is, both are uncomfortable. But one of them builds you up, and the other just breaks you down.The struggle of preparing it’s tiring ofc no doubt. You have to push yourself when you’re sleepy, bored, or overwhelmed. It’s showing up for yourself again and again, even when motivation isn’t there. But there’s pride in it. A kind of strength that grows with every small effort and when it’s done, even if the result isn’t perfect, you still walk away with no regrets. You know deep down: I tried. I fought for this.But when the result is bad and you know you didn’t try... that’s a different kind of weight. It sits in your chest. It makes you wish you could go back, change things, redo the moments you chose to scroll or sleep instead.So when you think about it, studying hard isn’t just about getting a good grade. It’s about giving yourself the chance to feel proud, not guilty. Even if you don’t feel “ready” or perfect effort is always better than avoidance

♡ ﾟ a little tip from me : like always keep some backup energy. Whether it’s ur fav food , a calming playlist, or a memory that reminds you why you’re doing this your why your dreams and ofc your future self have something in your pocket for those tired moments. It helps more than you think.

"I think the most important thing is to cherish yourself and make yourself the top priority.Of course, I have to love myself first for others to love me.So I hope you all can think of yourselves as the most beautiful, the coolest, and the most precious.I hope you see yourself that way first.I already love you all, don’t I?So there must be so many people who love you, including me.Got it?"

- jang wonyoung vlive

﹙ ✿ ﹚

“Cherish yourself and make yourself the top priority.” it’s hard for some people ikr especially when you’re used to pleasing others, hiding your feelings, or not even knowing what you want.

Loving yourself isn’t just looking in the mirror and saying “I’m pretty.” It’s more like choosing not to talk badly about yourself when you feel down. It’s not easy, because your brain is used to doubting you. That’s why this mindset takes practice.

So how do you even start doing that? Start by treating yourself the way you’d treat someone you really love. Would you tell your friend they’re not good enough? No. So stop doing that to yourself. If you mess up, forgive yourself. If you’re tired, let yourself rest without feeling guilty you are ur own home treat it and tidy up yourself and take care of urself .It’s small stuff, but it builds up. You say no when something doesn’t feel right. You take time to listen to your feelings instead of pushing them away. You stop chasing people who don’t see your worth AND THIS IS VEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERY IMPORTANT and it’s all about being honest and gentle with yourself.And just like Wonyoung said even if you don’t see it yet, there are people who already love you. So try to see yourself through kinder eyes.

♡ ﾟ a little tip from me : life moves on. The people who try to bring you down now u won't see them forever. Start slipping away from them, little by little. Even if it feels like you have something good to hold onto some old memories, shared laughs, or habits that make you feel stuck you can let go. You can change your way of thinking. You don’t need to give your energy to people who drain it and stop giving a damn about their opinions. Block them from ur phone ur mind and ur heart You don’t need to make a big show out of it. Just slowly get busy with yourself. Your goals. Your peace. Your healing and look around for good energy ... They’re not worth the tears or overthinking.You’re allowed to choose yourself. To say, I want better and this is ENOUGH .The more you build your world, the more you’ll realize they were just noise .

"Even if someone says something hurtful, if it doesn’t feel true to me, I don’t take it personally.Honestly, things would be a lot simpler if everyone thought that way.If it’s not true, then it has nothing to do with me.But if it is true something I actually need to work on then I just focus on improving it.It’s all about knowing what to let go of and what to take in.Being able to tell the difference is a skill in itself."

- jang wonyoung for salon drip

﹙ ✿ ﹚

This wonyoung helpful way of thinking can really help us protect our peace. When someone says something hurtful, we don’t have to take it to heart if it doesn’t feel true to us. It’s like, if it’s not part of our reality or doesn’t resonate with who we are, we can just let it slide. This takes a lot of emotional strength and self-awareness n it’s about trusting ourselves enough to know that other people's words don't define our worth. But If it’s something we do need to work on, though, then we take it as an opportunity to grow and improve, rather than let it bring us down.

The real key here is knowing what to absorb and what to release. It’s a skill like developing emotional intelligence, and it can make a huge difference in how we handle life’s ups and downs by experience ! . Learning to distinguish between helpful feedback and unnecessary negativity allows us to stay focused on what matters our own growth and well-being so it’s about being strong enough to choose what gets under our skin and what doesn’t.

♡ ﾟ a little tip from me : Always take time to reflect in a journal and organize the things u want to work on. It's normal to be critical of areas where we're not perfect, and sometimes others may notice things we don’t. Use that as a chance to grow and improve, without letting it affect your confidence. Journaling helps u process these moments and stay focused on your personal development.

"I hope you live with the joy that comes from chasing and achieving your own goals. Rather than worrying about how others see you or trying to meet their expectations, focus on what you truly want to do and accomplish. I hope you can move forward in life not for others, but with the excitement of reaching your own dreams."

- jang wonyoung for youngji show

﹙ ✿ ﹚

The first key takeaway is focus on what YOU want, not on what others think or expect. This means getting real with yourself about what truly excites you, not what’s expected of you by others family, friends, or society. When you spend all your time trying to meet external expectations, you lose sight of your own desires and dreams. This shift requires clarity, so the first step is to figure out what goals genuinely make you feel alive and excited. It’s not about impressing anyone it’s about getting yourself to the finish line of your own goals.

But It’s easy to say, "I’m going to stop worrying about what others think," but in practice, it’s hard. There will always be moments when you’re tempted to compare yourself or feel like you’re falling behind. But YOUR life is YOURS. No one else is living your journey. The most important thing is not to beat yourself up when you feel unsure or when you hear those voices telling you you’re not enough. It’s normal. When you feel like you’re not meeting others’ expectations, take a deep breath and remind yourself: Your goals, your pace, your happiness are what matter most . It’s okay to disappoint others if it means you're staying true to your path. Move forward not for anyone else but for YOU. The excitement and joy that comes from chasing YOUR dreams will be more fulfilling than anything else.

♡ ﾟ a little tip from me :when the noise gets loud and you start doubting yourself, take a moment to unplug grab your journal, go on a walk, do something u love or also u can watch something that bring u back to ur passion... Ask yourself “Is this what I truly want?” Coming back to your own voice helps you stay grounded and protects your energy. The more you listen to yourself the less space doubt and outside pressure take up.

@bloomzone ✧⌨️👛*⁠。

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 3 days ago

Text

Angel - Part 8

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers?

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Reader is enhanced, has wings and has powers connected to electricity.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Where's the reader? Includes the previous sneak peek.

Chapter Warning: Brief mention of previous attack.

You’re sitting on a roof somewhere in Queens when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You knew damn well you’d turned it off.

When you pull it out you see a coded message appear. The fact someone has managed to turn on your secure device and send you a message makes you feel uneasy. You glance around but don’t see anyone.

It takes a moment to establish what the message says but you realise the message is from Stark. He seems to be giving you a location.

You know Natasha’s slipped everyone’s numbers into your phone so you take the chance and send him a message.

You - Is this a mission or a safe house?

Tony - Well hello to you too Luna.

You - Please don’t call me that.

Tony - Why? It’s what you are.

You - I didn’t realise you all knew.

Tony - Well we do. Honestly there was a lot of whispering going on I was concerned there was a plan to overthrow the government but it was actually all because of you.

You - I don’t really know what to say to that.

Tony doesn’t initially reply.

You - So which is it Stark? A safe house or a mission because its a mission I need more than a location.

Tony - I’m not about to send our Luna onto a mission when she’s still recovering. It’s a safe house. One of my own personal ones. It’s fancy, has everything you need, cupboards filled, every streaming service you can imagine. Highly secure too. The others don’t even know about it.

You - You don’t have to do this Tony. I’m grateful but you really don’t have to. I don't want to make things awkward for you.

Tony - As much as you don’t want to admit it kid, you’re the Luna, I’m meant to be the pack Beta, although that’s not working out so well for me right now but that’s another story. I have a responsibility to make sure you’re okay. So please do what Mom and Dad ask and go to the safe house. It has a pool. It’s in the Hamptons.

A pool and the Hamptons did sound nice. Wait did he just call himself Dad?

You - Mom and Dad?

He replies with a photo of him and Pepper pulling sad faces.

You rolled your eyes.

You - Fine but don’t use that incredible woman and her sad face against me again.

You stood and put on your flight glasses and slipped your backpack back on your front. You pulled up your hood and pushed your wings out of your back. You weren’t sure where the new set of workout gear had come from but the set of leggings and matching zip up jacket that had appeared in the guest room drawer, fit you like a glove. Just as you were about to take flight you saw the Spider swinging around in the distance. Spiderling? Spiderboy? Whatever.

You pull out your phone and text Tony again.

You - You might want to check on the spider kid. Bruce told me you’d grounded him from his little street ops but I see him swinging right now.

Tony sends you another photo but this time it’s him looking exasperated.

You pocket your phone and take to the sky.

When Natasha gets home she finds a note with the watch she’d given you beside it.

You shouldn’t have done that without telling me. Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll be in touch.

She had no idea how you knew what her and the others had just done. You’ve said you’ll be in touch so you’ve not cut her off completely at least. Were you just pissed they’d not told you? A knock at the apartment door is followed by Clint and Wanda entering, both holding up similar notes.

Half an hour later Steve has summoned them all to the briefing room. It’s clear from the moment they step off the elevator that he’s pissed. The fact all of them refuse to say where they’ve been or what they’ve been doing makes it worse, as did him spotting Clint’s split knuckles. Steve’s ranting and Bucky’s sure he’s about to give an Alpha command to get them to give answers and not just the riddles they are giving now. He risks it and steps in.

“It’s about her, isn’t it?” Bucky asks.

They hide it well but he’s also an ex-assassin and the former Winter Solider sees the tells that confirm he’s right.

“She told me that it was complicated. That it was someone she used to trust.”

Natasha tilts her head slightly in interest.

“You spoke to her?”

“I did, she was having a tea out on the lawn with Pepper.”

The others turned to look at Tony.

“What? Oh if you’re asking me if he spoke to her, he did. Stepped in when super annoying number one got snippy with them too.” Tony replied.

“You did what?” Clint asked.

“Oh erm, Steve was…” Bucky went to reply before Clint cut him off.

“No not you! Him! You got snippy with them? With Y/N and Pepper?”

Steve took a breath and put his hands on his hips.

“I wanted to know where you were. I knew something was going on.”

It takes everyone by surprise when Clint starts moving to the door.

“You know what Rogers, fuck you. I ain’t telling you shit. I’ve been on your side through this whole thing. I'm away from my family, out of retirement to help cover the work whilst the dust settles. Putting everything I have on the line again, and you can stand there and make demands all you want but knowing you’ve been shitty to my pack sisters, one who also happens to be the Luna, when she’s dealing with enough right now, means I’m done. Come on.” He says to the others. “What we did today was to keep our girl safe. All whilst you were making a shitty first impression. Go fuck yourself.”

Clint leaves the room, with Wanda, Natasha, Vision and Bruce following.

Steve growls and takes a step to go after them. Bucky steps in front of him.

“Don’t.”

Steve huffs and throws himself down into one of the briefing room chairs. Realisation washing over him that he really had fucked up.

A few days later…..

Your mind wandered as you laid out on the lounger. As much as Stark had become a pain in your ass, he had good taste in safe houses. The Hamptons was a step up from hiding in a ditch in Scotland, plus every single one of your favourite foods were in the kitchen, and the cashmere blanket Pepper had apparently picked out especially for you, was definitely a special touch.

But your mind wandered to the last week. What a fucking week.

Get attacked my another agent ✔️

Have other agent threaten to throw you in The Raft ✔️

Run off and be extracted by your pack sister and brothers ✔️

Meet your true mates ✔️

Leave the compound without telling anyone ✔️

Receive a coded message from Stark directing you to his fancy pants safe house ✔️

You decided to distract yourself and the sound of the birds tweeting accompanied you as you read your latest smutty book. One of Laura’s recommendations. As the afternoon sun shone down on you your eyelids felt heavy and you could feel the pull of sleep.

You jumped as it was pulled away from you as your phone rang. Frowning you'd set it so only Tony, Pepper and Storm could call you. To everyone else it was on dark mode. Only one person would have the balls to override it.

“This better be good Romanoff.” You snarked, voice still croaky as you recovered.

“We have a situation.”

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @vicmc624 @elissanatok

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @hnnhbananananana @otterlycanadian @cherlenovix @imdoingathingmom @saltedcoffeescotch @jstarr86 @sidraaaaaaaaa @capswife @forgetmenotsexy

@hi172826 @ladyzombiielove @blonde-bansheee @verytyrantcat @nancymcl

#avengers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #alpha steve rogers #alpha steve rogers x reader #alpha steve rogers x omega reader #alpha bucky x reader #alpha bucky barnes x reader #alpha bucky barnes x omega reader #alpha steve rogers x reader x alpha bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers x omega reader x alpha bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers x enhanced omega reader x alpha bucky barnes

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th3w1ltedpe0ny · 1 day ago

Text

☆She's my star☆

○°Minific/Shortfic°○

Donatello x Fem!Reader

Tags: Wholesome, and sweeter then candy.

Summary: 2012!Donnie has been waiting for the right time to confess to you, his thoughts of you being profound and wonderous.

Request: Yes/No

"Mind making something for Donnie?? I want to cry from cuteness."

He never took the time to remember when he started becoming so... poetic.

But he didn't give a nickel and a thimbles plastic shard about it. It's how you did. But he wondered why men weren't more like him, men that had his approach to loving someone so much.

You were his star. His ball of hot air. His shining light to guide him across uncharted waters to his destiny. You were bright, but dim when you wanted to go unnoticed, dull and void during the day and quiet until the blanket of night covered all of New York.

He loved the night because of you. Cherished the moments the two of you shared, the memories.

"Donnie, are we still on for using my new telescope tonight to look at the stars? Please tell me you didn't start another project without me!" You were leaned against him when you had whined about it. His first date with you or what he considered to be so.

"Wouldn't miss it. It gives me a chance to observe some of the shifts in the stars from the last full moon." He had his trained responses ready that day, but he'd been bold and wrapped his arm around your waist as you flickered and smiled at him brightly as he worked. "That's my D." Was your little quip. Your 'D', certainly was an odd way of putting claim to him in any way.

But he simply smiled and went off to collect all he'd need for this. For you. God's if there was a way to explain just how bright you burned to him. A picnic basket, cookies Raph had begrudgingly made for him so you'd get a homely feeling after the two of you would be situated, snacks like plain potato chips and cheese and meats to go with it, sparkling waters and regular waters, and a picnic blanket on top.

Splendid.

The shellraiser needed to be cleaned out, washed, and freshened up with some new modifications. Not a problem for the genius in his element.

♡~~~~~~♡

"Blind spot on your right," he murmured into the comm as the shellraiser rumbled past the last recognizable street signs of the city. You'd insisted on driving, despite his protests about the modified controls he'd only just installed last week.

"I see it, D," you replied, expertly maneuvering around a pothole that would have swallowed a smaller vehicle whole. Your confidence behind the wheel always left him in awe—just one more thing to add to his ever-growing list of reasons why you burned brighter than Betelgeuse in his universe.

The city fell away behind you, concrete jungle thinning into actual trees as you followed the route he'd mapped out. A place where light pollution couldn't steal the stars away, where Venus would be visible in all her glory.

"Three more miles," he said, checking his tablet. "There's an old observatory platform that nobody uses anymore. Perfect elevation, minimal interference."

You hummed in response, a melody he couldn't quite place but that settled into his bones like it belonged there. "Is this the surprise you've been mumbling about in your sleep?"

Heat flooded his face. "I don't mumble in my sleep."

"Sure you don't," you teased, flashing him that grin that made his heart stumble every time. "Just like you don't snore either."

"That's—I—" he spluttered, then caught your smirk in the rearview mirror. "You're impossible."

"That's why you keep me around." You winked, turning the shellraiser onto a narrow road that wound upward.

The vehicle groaned as it climbed, but soon enough you'd reached the clearing he'd discovered during late-night satellite image searches. An abandoned concrete platform overlooked the valley below, with the faint glow of the city visible only as a distant haze.

"Donnie," you whispered as you stepped out, neck craned toward the sky. "It's perfect."

He couldn't look up yet. Couldn't tear his eyes away from the way starlight played across your features, casting shadows and highlighting contours he'd memorized but never tired of studying.

"Venus should be visible right about..." he checked his watch then pointed to a spot just above the eastern horizon, "there."

You followed his gesture, your telescope already halfway set up. "Oh my god," you breathed. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah," he agreed, not looking at the sky at all. "Beautiful."

♡~~~~~~♡

The telescope forgotten, you both lay sprawled on the picnic blanket, heads tilted back to take in the vast canopy of stars. The cookies Raph had made were long gone, crumbs still clinging to the corner of your mouth that Donnie fought the urge to brush away.

"Did you know," he began, unable to help himself, "that Venus is the only planet named after a female goddess?"

"The goddess of love," you added, rolling onto your side to face him.

"And beauty," he continued, swallowing hard. "The ancient Romans thought she was so bright because she was special. Different from all the other wandering stars."

You smiled. "Is this your roundabout way of comparing me to Venus?"

"Is it that obvious?" He chuckled nervously, adjusting his glasses.

"Only because I know you." Your hand found his in the darkness, fingers intertwining. "You get this particular tone when you're being romantic through science facts."

"I do not—"

"You absolutely do," you insisted. "Your voice gets all soft and technical at the same time. It's my favorite Donnie-voice."

He fell silent, the weight of that statement settling over him like a warm blanket. You had categorized his voices. Had a favorite. Were paying that much attention.

"You know," he said finally, gaze drifting back to the sky, "astronomers once thought Venus might be habitable. A sister planet to Earth. They were wrong, of course—it's a hellscape of sulfuric acid rain and crushing atmospheric pressure."

You snorted. "Way to kill the romantic mood, D."

"No, that's not—" He propped himself up on one elbow, suddenly earnest. "What I mean is, even the most beautiful things can be dangerous. Unpredictable. But that doesn't make them any less worth exploring. Worth understanding."

Your expression softened as you realized what he was trying to say.

"Venus is crossing paths with Earth tonight," he continued, voice barely above a whisper. "Closest approach. Won't happen again for years."

"And you brought me here to see it?" You squeezed his hand.

"I brought you here because..." He hesitated, the words tangling in his throat. All his technical knowledge, all his genius, and he still couldn't articulate the simplest truth. "Because there's no one else I'd rather watch the stars with. No one else who makes me feel like I'm more than just a brain in a shell. When I'm with you, even the celestial mechanics I've studied my whole life feel new. Magical."

You shifted closer, your warmth radiating through the cool night air. "Donnie?"

"Hmm?"

"You're doing it again. The poetic thing."

He smiled sheepishly. "Can't help it. You're my Venus."

"Sulfuric acid rain and all?" you teased.

"The beautiful part," he clarified quickly. "The part that outshines everything else. The part worth crossing paths with, no matter how rarely it happens."

You leaned forward then, resting your forehead against his. Above you, a million stars witnessed the moment your lips met his—a cosmic event all its own, the convergence of two celestial bodies finding their perfect orbit at last.

#keiks piece #keiks works #keiks creatures of intrigue #tmnt #tmnt donnie #tmnt x reader #2012 donnie #tmnt donatello #tmnt writing #mini fics #minific writing

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