#don’t get me wrong I still love the show but

[echo-riot]

Dating Sevika headcanons (sfw sorry gang)

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•You once tried to steal her cigar as a joke. Big mistake. Sevika caught you mid-act, lifted you with one arm, and said, “Cute. Don’t do it again.” You still did it again.

•Sevika’s idea of cooking is tossing something in a pan and hoping for the best. She’ll scoff at recipes and mutter, “I don’t need instructions.” Spoiler: she absolutely needs instructions. Burnt toast has become a running joke in your relationship.

•Every time she gets into a bar fight, you’re in the background yelling, “Not the face! I love her face!” She pretends not to hear you while decking someone twice her size.

•She once used her metal arm to open a stubborn jar of pickles. Now she’s your go-to for all tough jar lids. She grumbles, but you caught her smiling the third time.

•Sevika hates when you try to join her poker games. You can’t keep a straight face, and the other players eat you alive. She’s banned you from sitting at her table, but you keep sneaking in to “help her win.”

•If someone so much as glances at you wrong, she’ll glare at them until they shrink back into their seat. Once, a drunk guy tried to flirt with you at The Last Drop. Sevika didn’t even stand up; she just cracked her knuckles, and he bolted.

•Sevika doesn’t do romantic pillow talk. Instead, she’ll grumble about how “these damn chem-barons can’t organize for shit,” then roll over and fall asleep. You’ve learned to just nod along and kiss her forehead.

•You tried to kiss her while she had a cigar in her mouth. She just deadpanned, “You wanna taste smoke that bad?” and blew a puff right at you.

•She’ll act annoyed when you dote on her—calling her “big, scary Sevika” or pinching her cheeks—but secretly, she lives for your attention. She once sulked for hours when you forgot to kiss her goodbye.

•She rarely gets drunk, but when she does, she becomes weirdly sentimental. She’ll hold your face in her hands, stare at you with bleary eyes, and slur, “You’re too good for me. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

•On her rare days off, Sevika becomes the ultimate couch potato. You’ll find her sprawled out, watching trashy reality shows with the volume way too high. She’ll deny it later, but you’ve caught her rooting for her favorite contestant.

•She’ll never admit she’s wrong in an argument. But later, she’ll shove your favorite snack into your hands as a peace offering. That’s as close to an apology as you’re getting.

•Sevika loves making you laugh, though she won’t admit it. She’ll mutter something sarcastic under her breath just to hear you giggle, then pretend she didn’t care.

•Once, you heard a noise outside at night. Sevika grabbed a crowbar, stormed outside, and returned five minutes later saying, “It was just a cat. Go back to bed.” You’re 90% sure she scared that cat into never coming back.

•Every now and then, Sevika will surprise you with something sweet—a trinket from the market, a rare flower she found, or even just a quiet moment where she pulls you into her lap and murmurs, “I missed you.” She’ll act like it’s no big deal, but you know better.

•If someone so much as looks at you wrong, Sevika is ready to throw hands. She’ll casually step in front of you, her massive frame blocking the offender, and ask with a chillingly calm voice, “You got something to say?” Spoiler: they don’t.

•Sevika doesn’t do flowers or chocolates, but she’ll slide a bag of your favorite snacks across the table with a gruff, “Saw these on my way back.” Or she’ll casually fix something broken around your place, claiming it’s no big deal.

•Sevika loves having you sit on her lap. Whether you’re watching a game at The Last Drop, lounging at home, or just chatting, her favorite place for you is right on her thighs. She’ll rest her chin on your shoulder and mutter how lucky she is to have you.

•Sevika loves making sure everyone knows you’re hers. A possessive hand on your waist, a kiss in a crowded room, or a quiet, low-toned threat to anyone who tries to flirt with you—she’s got it all covered.

•While she’s the definition of tough to everyone else, Sevika melts for you. She’ll roll her eyes when you call her “soft,” but she secretly loves it when you snuggle up to her or kiss her scarred cheek.

•If you catch her doing something sweet—like tucking a blanket around you or cooking breakfast—she’ll grumble, “Don’t get used to it,” while secretly hoping you do.

•Sevika has a habit of holding her cigar out to you, offering you a puff with a teasing smirk. She’ll chuckle if you cough but will be unreasonably proud if you manage to handle it.

•Sevika notices everything about you. If you’re feeling down, she’ll subtly try to cheer you up without making a big deal out of it. If you’re tired, she’ll drag you to bed (even if you protest).

•Sevika thinks it’s hilarious when you try to arm wrestle her. She’ll let you think you’re winning for a few seconds before slamming your hand down with a wicked grin.

•Sevika is not a morning person. If you try to wake her up early, she’ll groan, bury her face in the pillow, and mumble something about five more minutes—which turns into an hour.

•Sevika is strong, resilient, and seemingly unshakable—but when it comes to you, she’s a goner. You’re her world, her light, and the reason she fights so hard to survive.

[raerae2727]

When they blow up at you: multiple One Piece men x reader

You make them upset and they lose their temper + how they apologize

Includes: Ace, Kid, Law, Sanji, Crocodile, Doflamingo

GN! Reader, established relationship

Warnings: language, crocodile is neglectful and doffy is toxic, both reader and kid are lowkey toxic together, ace sanji and law’s parts are sweet tho💋

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Ace

He’s always pretty upbeat and tries not to show anger around you, but one day you make a joke that takes it too far. Your relationship had always been full of humor and you simply misunderstood what was acceptable to joke about and what wasn’t. You know you messed up when Ace goes quiet and puts his head down. You put your hand on his shoulder and frantically try to apologize, but he clearly isn’t having it as he stands and tries to walk away from you.

“Ace, wait! Listen!” You call as you try to pull him back, eager to explain yourself and properly apologize. He suddenly turns around and, in front of everyone, begins to lecture you.

“Why don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Your guilt quickly turns to anger at the hypocrisy of Ace’s words. It always seemed to you that no joke was “too far” because of the way he so freely poked fun at you, your interests, and those you care about. How dare he pin this accusation on you?

“You’re the one who can’t take anything serious!” You respond, raising your voice louder than his.

He’s basically yelling when he responds, “At least I know where to draw the line!”

“What about all those times you made fun of me? Is it only an issue when I do it back?”

Everyone is staring at you two by this point, but all you can focus on is holding back tears when Ace yells, “I guess we just don’t go well together!” He slams his hand on the table, “Good luck finding someone else who’ll put up with you for as long as I have!”

Ashamed and heartbroken, you rush to your room and cry into your pillow. It feels like an eternity before you finally hear a knock on your door. You don’t respond but Ace opens it and lets himself in anyways, setting down his hat. He sits on the edge of your bed and breaks the silence with, “Good thing I stayed calm out there, right?”

Amazed that he still has the audacity to joke around, you sit up and scold, “Ace!”

He holds up his arms defensively. “Sorry, Sorry, I’m ready to talk about it if you are. And for the record, I love putting up with you.”

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Kid

Your relationship was always explosive because of your captain’s temper, but he must have already been on edge today because this was worse than usual. Killer wanted some rest so Kid is trying to make dinner for the crew, but he absolutely sucks at cooking. He refuses to listen to your advice and tension is growing as you continue to try and help.

“Stop being so controlling! I’m the captain here!”

The smell of burnt food is getting stronger, and you can’t help but take the pan off the burner yourself. “We’re hungry. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just accepting help for once.” You try to keep your tone neutral to avoid a fight - which is clearly ineffective as Kid grabs you by the arm and pulls you outside of the kitchen.

“Why are you so set on embarrassing me in front of my crew!?” He shouts, gripping your shoulders.

You roll your eyes and speak calmly to make him feel like he’s overreacting. “It’s not that big of a deal. It would be more embarrassing if nobody was able to eat because your ego is too big to let me help.”

Kid is infamously bad with words, so he just responds by cursing and shoving you with much more force than intended. You go tumbling back until your head hits the wall and you fall to the floor. Kid looks shocked but before he can kneel down to help, you shoot up and shout, “What the fuck was that!?!”

“I don’t know!! Are you okay?” He yells back, panicked.

“No! I’m gonna tell Killer that you’re abusing me!” You scream, not realizing the whole ship can probably hear you two by now.

“No!” Kid responds fearfully, one-upping your volume and holding you in place by your shoulders again. “I swear I’ll always listen to you from now on! I promise! Please don’t tell on me, you know it was an accident!!”

Before you can scream back, the kitchen door swings open and you two stare at Killer like deer in headlights.

“Get in here and set the table. I knew you guys wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

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Law

Law always stretches himself too thin between working late, taking care of his crew, and making sure they don’t get themselves in too much trouble. He must have been losing a lot of sleep because of this, as he’s asking you to bring him his 4th cup of coffee today and it’s not even noon.

You tell him, “I don’t think I should do that, babe. I’m sorry. You should get some rest instead.” His under eye bags are especially dark today and his hair is messy.

“I have to get this done,” he responds calmly, though you can detect a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Can you at least get someone else to make it?”

When you go behind him and rub his shoulders, he sighs and leans back in his chair. He must be exhausted. “Please, babe?” He asks once more.

“Law, you of all people should know the importance of rest.”

He pulls away from your touch and crooks his neck to look in your eyes. “And you, of all people, should appreciate the work your captain does to keep this crew out of harm’s way.” He doesn’t yell, but the scolding tone of his voice hurts you more than yelling ever could. He stands up and walks to the kitchen, presumably to make his own coffee, and you follow behind. “Can’t you just give me some alone time for once?” He snaps.

You’re growing increasingly frustrated at Law’s stubborn attitude. “You need to rest! I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re putting your health at risk.”

“Sometimes,” he grabs you by the chin and leans in, “I have to make sacrifices for this crew. Be thankful.” You can’t help but start to tear up. His harsh words stung extra when he looked at you like that. Law lets go of you and his gaze softens when he realizes how upset he’s made you. The tone of the conversation immediately shifts. “Sorry, I-” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you cared that much.”

“Of course I care.” You cry. “I love you.” You pull him into a hug and he leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ll take a nap if you promise to stop crying.” He whispers, rubbing your back.

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Sanji

“Can you add a dash of salt to the soup, love?” Asks your boyfriend. He’s recently taken to including you while he cooks, which is an honor coming from someone who takes it so seriously. He’s gentle, patient, and excessively romantic with you in every aspect of the relationship, though sometimes finds himself being a bit more firm when cooking. You waltz across the kitchen, handing over him a knife, stirring a pot, or cleaning dishes for Sanji, whose hand finds your waist each time you pass. You dip your finger into the sauce he’s making and give it a taste.

“It’s good, maybe a bit bland though,” you comment.

“Noted, head chef,” he teases back playfully while accepting your criticism and adding more seasoning. When you go to take another taste, your elbow knocks over an inconveniently placed jar of olive oil, spilling it into the sauce and all over the counter.

“Shit! I’m sorry Sanji, I’ll clean it up.” He looks a bit disappointed, but gives you a soft smile and pat on the back.

“Don’t worry love, it happens,” his tone shifts to something more firm yet still gentle, “but we only have one jar left, so try to be a bit more careful for me in the future, yea?”

“It won’t happen again, promise.” Your mistake makes you shaky with nervousness because you know how seriously Sanji takes food waste. When you reach for a towel to clean up the oil, of course you accidentally knock over a pepper shaker. It falls to the ground and shatters, pepper corns bouncing all across the floor.

Panicked, you stutter out a pleading apology while you scramble to find a broom. “Oh my god babe, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m so clumsy to-”

“How about you just leave the cooking to me.”

You look up, surprised at his stern voice. He doesn’t look back at you, just grips the handle of his mixing spoon angrily. Your heart drops into your stomach in shame.

“Go find someone else to help me clean up this mess, okay?” You can tell he’s trying his absolute hardest to contain his disappointment, but it’s still evident in his tone. You silently leave the kitchen, embarrassed tears stinging your eyes.

You try to calm yourself down in your room before dinner, you don’t want any of your crew mates to know about your humiliating mistakes. Not even five minutes after you had left the kitchen though, your door swings open. Sanji is on his knees with a bouquet of flowers and big puppy dog eyes looking up at you.

“I have no words to describe how sorry I am for getting upset at you. My anger was a bigger mistake than any amount of spilled food.” Your emotions quickly turn upside down and you laugh at the dramatic display.

“Sanji! I should be the one apologizing!” You run up to him and pull him into a tight hug. You reassure him, “It’s okay to get frustrated sometimes. I’m not mad!” He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes you tight.

Smelling the bouquet, you ask, “Where did you even get these?”

“I have a stash,” and you both burst into laughter.

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Crocodile

It seems like all he does is work, and you’re fed up with it. You get so bored sitting around in Crocodile’s mansion all day while he’s locked up in his office. Luckily, he left the door ajar today and you’ll be able to force him to give you the attention you deserve. You slink through the door and hoist yourself up onto the edge of his oversized desk.

“What.” He says gruffly, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m booored,” you whine, swinging your feet, “wanna go swimming?”

Crocodile sighs and rubs his temple in annoyance, still not looking up. “Go fetch me a drink and I’ll consider it.”

“No you won’t!” You argue, “you always say that!”

He slams a fist on the table and finally looks up to meet your eyes. “Maybe I would want to spend more time with you if you weren’t so whiny! Now go!”

You’re shocked and hurt by his unexpected anger and leave defeated, looking back one last time to see him continuing his work, seemingly unbothered.

Later that night, as you’re lying in bed reading, you hear the door softly creak open. Crocodile is holding an unopened expensive perfume with a ribbon tied around it.

“I know I haven’t had a lot of time for you lately, and I’m sorry.” He sighs, setting the gift on your nightstand and undoing his tie. “We’ll go swimming next week, I promise.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting into his robe.

As you drift off to sleep, you look at the various expensive gifts he’s gotten you as apologies, knowing he will never follow through with his promises.

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Doflamingo

Making Doflamingo angry is always the last thing you want to do, but his immature sense of entitlement can be infuriating. The two of you were watching the sunset by the poolside and discussing your latest reads while waiting on a servant to bring another bottle of wine. You didn’t notice how long it was taking until he brought it up.

“What’s taking that damn worm so long?” What’s so hard about fetching a bottle of wine?” The veins in his forehead started to bulge, a telltale sign of his annoyance.

You take his hand in yours and rub your thumb into his palm, trying desperately to keep him calm. “I’m sure it’ll be here soon, Doffy. Let’s not worry about it for now - keep telling me about your book.”

He could see right through you. Any attempt at influencing his emotions always only made it worse.

“Don’t baby me. This is an act of utter insolence and I don’t know why you expect me to tolerate it.” He slaps your hand away. “I’ll give that rat a piece of my mind once it gets here.” As much as you want to just leave it at that and enjoy the rest of your evening, your unrest with Doflamingo’s behavior has been growing for weeks and you speak before you can think.

“Can’t we just have one nice evening where you don’t have to abuse someone over the tiniest thing? It’s just some wine, we’ll live.” You’re terrified to see his frown turn into a wide grin as he starts to laugh.

“Have you forgotten who I am? Who you have the privilege of being close to?” With one sweep of his arm he knocks your glass off the table, shattering it and making you jump in fear. “Get out of my sight,” He hisses.

Offended by his quick switch-up, you bargain, “Doffy, can’t we just talk abou-”

“Out!” He yells. “And that’s Young Master to you!”

You scurry inside the palace, knowing things could get ugly if you chose to stick around. You wait all night for him to come knocking on your door with a superficial apology, even a passive aggressive one, but he never shows.

That petty man child was avoiding you. A whole week goes by before you even see his face. As you’re playing chess with Diamanté (who’s even more insufferable) to pass the time, you find yourself wishing you were with Doflamingo instead. As if on cue, he struts in and ruffles your hair from behind.

“What do you say we go share a drink together, just you and me, hm?” He muses, rubbing your shoulders as if he hadn’t just disappeared for a week. Your anger towards him subsides at his touch. You know you only feel this way because of his manipulative charm, but you let yourself love Doffy anyway.

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[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

In which, a girl tries to flirt with one of the MHA boys. Part 1

Characters included: Denki Kaminari, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima

Side Note: The reader is a badass chick 🤤

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the sweet romantic type to anyone but you. He was the kind of guy who, in public, showed love in his own way—by pulling you into his side possessively, scowling at anyone who looked at you wrong, and grumbling curse-laced insults that somehow still made your heart flutter. In private? Yeah, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

He didn’t need anyone else. He had you. And that was enough.

Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to get the memo.

Like the new girl.

She had transferred into U.A. a few weeks ago, and from the moment she laid eyes on your man, she had been on a mission. At first, it was subtle. Asking him unnecessary questions in class. Laughing a little too hard at his brash remarks. Finding excuses to sit near him during lunch.

But then it got bolder.

She started showing up outside the gym when he was training. Bringing him extra snacks. “Accidentally” tripping in front of him so he’d catch her. Touching his arm and marveling at his muscles.

You could tell it annoyed him. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the patient type, and the way his eye twitched whenever she got too close was proof enough.

Yet, she kept pushing.

One day, she took it too far.

You and the Bakusquad were hanging out in the common room when she waltzed in, making a beeline for your boyfriend.

“Bakugo~” she sang, plopping down beside him, far too close for comfort.

You leaned against the couch, watching with mild amusement as he immediately tensed.

“The hell do you want?” he muttered, clearly uninterested.

She giggled, completely ignoring his irritation. “I made something for you!” She held out a scarf—black and orange, his colors. “I knitted it myself! I noticed you don’t wear scarves, so I figured I could give you one of mine. Now every time you wear it, you’ll think of me!”

You snorted. Oh, this girl was bold.

Bakugo just stared at the scarf like it was an insult to his entire existence. “The fuck? I don’t wear scarves.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” She pouted. “Just try it on for me—”

Bakugo's eye twitched. "I ain't wearin’ that."

Her smile faltered for a split second, but she pushed on, lifting the scarf toward him. "Just try it on! I promise it’ll look great—"

Before she could finish her sentence, you snatched the scarf right out of her hands.

"Wow," you hummed, examining it. "Soft, warm… a nice shade of orange." You nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think I know the perfect use for it."

She rolled her eyes at you, her happy-go-lucky personality disappearing instantly. “Really?”

With a sickly sweet smile, you turned on your heel, walked straight to the common room’s fireplace, and—without a moment’s hesitation—tossed the scarf in.

The flames swallowed it instantly.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"WHAT THE HELL?!" she shrieked, eyes wide with horror.

You dusted off your hands. "Oh, sorry. Did you actually think he was gonna wear that?" You gave her a pitying look. "It was just taking up space."

Katsuki, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly let out a loud, barking laugh. "Damn, babe."

Kirishima was struggling to hold back his own laughter. Kaminari? Nearly choking on his drink. Even Mina was giggling into her hands.

The girl looked between you and the burning scarf; face twisted in disbelief. “Y-You—”

"You seriously thought he’d wear something you made?" you cut her off, tilting your head. "I mean, I get it. You tried. A for effort and all that." You shrugged. "But he’s already got everything he needs."

You turned back to your carmine-eyed boyfriend, who was still smirking, and leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to his cheek.

"Right, Kats?"

His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, crimson eyes locked onto the girl as he smirked.

"Damn right."

The girl stood there, fuming, hands clenched into fists before she finally let out a frustrated huff and stormed out.

He chuckled against your neck. "Damn, that was brutal."

You grinned. "She had it coming."

He squeezed your waist, his voice low and amused. "Shit like that makes me love you even more, y'know that?"

Outcome: Scarf? Incinerated. Girl? Humbled. Relationship? Stronger than steel.

Denki Kaminari

Denki Kaminari had always been a flirt. From the start, he was a natural charmer, but when he met you, something changed. You grounded him. You made him feel loved and appreciated. You weren’t just another fling—you were the one who tamed him.

And when you two started dating, his flirtatious ways disappeared—at least, with anyone but you. Still, his naturally friendly personality sometimes sent the wrong signals, especially to girls who didn’t know any better.

Take a recent example. A new girl had just transferred to U.A. on recommendation. She was pretty, sociable, and quickly made friends with everyone—including you. But it was obvious she had a thing for Denki. She was always flirting with him, running her fingers through his hair, applying lip gloss the moment he walked in, dousing herself in sickly-sweet vanilla perfume so he’d notice whenever she passed by.

But you? You weren’t insecure. If anything, you found her antics hilarious. She actually thought she had a chance. Maybe she missed the lipstick stains on his cheeks and neck. Maybe she overlooked the way he whistled whenever you walked by, how he absentmindedly played with your hair while you talked to Mina, how he cornered you during lunch, hugged you from behind, or kissed the top of your head. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the matching promise rings, the shared bentos, or the inside jokes.

Oh, who were you kidding?

She knew.

She knew, and she was still trying.

One morning, while you and Momo giggled over your new matching nails, you caught sight of her in your peripheral vision. She was strutting over to Denki again. But something was different this time.

There, dyed into her perfectly shiny black hair, was a bright yellow lightning bolt.

And that was it.

You watched as she twirled in front of him, eyes sparkling. “Do you notice anything different?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

Denki looked uncomfortable. This girl was a whole new level of delusional.

“Uh, Amai… I have a girlfriend,” he stated flatly.

Her smile disappeared for a second before she stepped closer, recovering quickly. “Well, I don’t see her. Besides, she doesn’t have to know.” She tugged at his tie, pulling him from his standing position so that their faces were centimeters away, but he immediately placed a hand on her wrist, pushing her away. You took off your shoes and quietly strode closer to them.

By now, everyone in the room had gone silent, eyes locked on the three of you, waiting to see what would happen.

“Turn around,” you said, voice flat yet filled with annoyance.

Before she could react, you grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Her body arched, and she locked eyes with you in shock.

“Now you see her.”

In one swift motion, you pulled her to the ground and straddled her, delivering a solid punch to her nose. Something cracked. You hoped it was her nose—but then you saw something else.

Your nails.

Your beautiful, fresh, matching nails.

Broken.

“You bitch! You broke my nail!” you gasped in outrage.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stammered something, but you weren’t interested. Instead, you landed another punch.

It took both Denki and Sero to pry you off her—but not before you got in a good kick to her stomach.

Let’s just say one of you ended up in Recovery Girl’s office, and the other got detention for a week.

Mr. Aizawa, being the legend that he was, let you use your phone during detention. What an amazing teacher.

Eijiro Kirishima

You were used to people liking Eijiro.

It was impossible not to like him—he was strong, dependable, kind, and had the kind of energy that made everyone feel included. He wasn’t just a hero in training, he was a damn good person.

But Kanna Fukuda? She wasn’t just crushing on him.

She was competing with you.

Kanna was a Support Course genius—a prodigy when it came to crafting hero gear. And for whatever reason, she had convinced herself that you were just a phase, a distraction, something Eijiro would eventually “grow out of.”

She thought that if she could prove she was more useful to him—more essential to his future—he’d eventually choose her.

Too bad for her, Eijiro wasn’t choosing anyone but you.

At first, you ignored her attempts.

The custom gear. The constant requests to work with only Eijiro. The way she always “just happened” to be around whenever he finished training, ready with some new, “perfectly designed” item that would “enhance his performance.”

She was always hovering. But Eijiro never gave her any attention.

He was polite, sure, but he never went out of his way to talk to her. He never lingered when she spoke. Half the time, he didn’t even realize she was there because his attention was always on you.

And that? That drove her crazy.

One afternoon, in the middle of the U.A. common area, she made her biggest move yet. Eijiro had just finished an intense sparring session, sweat still dripping from his forehead as he leaned back against the couch beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

And then, out of nowhere, Kanna appeared. How the hell did she get access to the 1A building?

She placed something onto the table in front of him—a brand-new pair of hero gloves.

“I made these for you,” she announced, smiling like she’d already won. “They’re impact-resistant, reinforced with carbon fiber, and custom-fitted to your exact hand measurements.”

Your eyes narrowed. Hand measurements? He sure as hell never gave her those. Eijiro blinked at the gloves, looking more confused than impressed. “Uh… thanks, but I already got a pair.”

“These are better.” She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You should let me take care of you—I mean your gear, Kirishima. I mean, it’s kinda my specialty, right? I can make sure everything you use is perfectly tailored for you.”

And then, she had the audacity to glance at you—like she was proving a point, like she was winning.

You sat up straighter, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Ohhh, impact-resistant, huh?” You grabbed the gloves off the table, turning them over in your hands. “That’s so impressive, Kanna. Really.”

Her chest puffed up. “I know, right?”

And then, before she could say another word, you used your quirk. A white light emitted and them you ripped the hideous pair of gloves in half.

The room went silent.

Kanna’s smug expression shattered. “YOU—WHAT THE HELL?!”

You tilted your head, examining the torn gloves. “Huh. I thought they were impact-resistant.”

“You—” Her hands shook as she pointed at you. “D-Do you know how long that took me to—”

“They weren’t gonna last,” you interrupted, tossing the ruined gloves back onto the table. “They were never gonna be strong enough for him.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line.

You smiled. “You can make all the fancy gear you want, but he doesn’t need it.” You glanced at Eijiro, who was watching you with awe and admiration in his eyes. “He’s already strong enough on his own. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”

Kanna looked at Eijiro. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for him to defend her.

But all he did was sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Listen, Kanna, I gotta agree with her on this one.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I really appreciate the effort, but… I already have everything I need.”

And then, right in front of everyone, he turned to you—grinned—and kissed you.

It wasn’t just some quick peck.

It was slow, deliberate, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin—a clear, undeniable claim.

Kanna’s face flushed deep red.

She didn’t say another word.

She just grabbed the ruined gloves, turned, and walked out.

The moment she was gone, chaos erupted.

“OH MY GOD, YOU JUST DESTROYED HER!” Mina shrieked.

“THAT WAS SO FREAKIN’ HOT,” Kaminari howled.

Bakugo smirked, arms crossed. “About damn time. I was gonna blow her ass to America if she continued.”

Eijiro just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, pressing another kiss against your temple. “That was seriously the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

You grinned, curling your fingers into his red hair. “Had to put her in her place, didn’t I?”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Heck yeah, you did.”

And if anyone still thought they had a chance with your man?

They sure as hell didn’t now.

[mossangelll]

good luck on your exams! would love to hear some vi or sevika yandere headcanons

thank you so much!! my exams are starting this week and i’m pretty nervous >.<

i won’t go into too much detail, so if you’d ever want smth more detailed just drop an ask and i’ll (eventually lol) get to it :3

Yandere!Vi

one of the more ‘sane’ yanderes

tries her best to avoid kidnapping you; whilst her feelings for you are anything but normal, she still wants to feel like she’s in a relatively normal relationship with you

charms the pants off you with no trouble at all

you genuinely wouldn’t know anything was wrong with her - she seems so put together

you say yes to being her partner and that’s when you notice how controlling she can be

vi is smart enough to make sure that her less desirable tendencies don’t show up until you’re deeply entrenched in the relationship

it’s all peaches and cream until she’s punching the wall next to your head because you dared to talk to that guy at the bar

then all of a sudden you’ve got a curfew and can’t go anywhere without her

and before you know it you’re trapped inside your house because “it’s not safe out there in the lanes”

makes you get a tattoo with her name over your heart (she does the same)

however, if you’re somehow not charmed by her, she decides to turn to more…unorthodox methods

hires a street gang to rough you up a little - not enough to seriously hurt you, no, vi could never do that to you; just enough to knock some much needed sense into you

i mean, how can you not like her back???

she swoops onto the scene to save you and ensures you’re caught in her snares

the happy ever after you both deserve <3

Yandere!Sevika

sevika is an interesting yandere

she probably comes off as more of a stundete at first - she’s not the most expressive when it comes to showing romantic affection like some of the other yanderes

she keeps tabs on you, a regular at the bar, all the time but you’re convinced she hates you and must think you untrustworthy

why else would you be on her radar?

in reality her checking up on you, making sure nobody tries to be funny with you is her way of showing interest

don’t get me wrong, she can make a nun blush with her flirting skills but she’s never felt so obsessed with anyone before and doesn’t know how to process it

it all comes to a head when she has a particularly rough day at work, a few bourbons deep and she decides to take you

quite literally hooks her arms around you and carries you over her shoulders

it doesn’t matter how much or how loud you scream, it’s hopeless

she’s so much stronger than you and onlookers that watch your struggle don’t even dare to move an inch - sevika has a fierce reputation and nobody would want to anger her

can be very threatening and acts that way often at the beginning of your captivity

scolds you often and when you go on a hunger strike she rolls her eyes and force feeds you herself

you don’t see this coming but she makes you kiss her cheek before she leaves every morning and when she comes back at night

she doesn’t care if you look like you’re on the brink of tears doing so, to sevika it’s only fair she gets this when she’s busy protecting you every day

has you help her clean her prosthetic arm in pure silence

her favourite part of the day/week <3

she may be angry but at the end of the day every cruel and calculated thing she does is for your sake

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART ELEVEN

paige x azzi

word count: 5.5k

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this chapter, today felt fake and life can’t be real😭. I just need to have a lil crash out and I’ll work on making the next chapter better lol. Let me know what you think please and I hope everyone has/had a great day :)

—————————————————————————

January 2023

The library wasn’t their usual hangout spot, and for good reason. The last time they’d been here, a fan had spilled Paige’s Shirley Temple all over her book in an overly enthusiastic attempt to get a picture Paige had agreed to. But Paige and Azzi had no other choice today. They’ve been “catching up” with each other quite often— in Paige’s room, in Azzi’s, and even the living room a few times—and they realized they weren’t getting anything productive done and they had a lot to do. So the library was their last resort: a public space where they really had no choice but to not touch each other.

Azzi sat across from Paige, grumbling at her math homework. "Why do I need to do math for a communications degree?" she muttered, glaring at the numbers on her paper as if they’d personally wronged her.

Paige laughed softly, reaching over to take the paper from her. “Lemme see baby.” She skimmed it, already recognizing the concepts—it was the same class she’d taken last semester. Without a word, Paige grabbed her pencil and jotted down some notes in the margins, showing Azzi an easier way to solve the problems.

Handing the paper back, Paige teased, “You’re lucky I love you or I’d charge a pretty penny.”

Azzi grinned, a soft "Thank you, baby," slipping out as she leaned back in her chair. Paige just winked, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk before returning her focus to her paper.

The two worked in silence, the scratch of Azzi’s pen and Paige’s typing mixed with the distant hum of whispered conversations were the only sounds between them. Azzi, always needing some kind of contact, lightly tapped her foot against Paige’s under the table. Paige didn’t look up, but a small smile tugged at her lips as she nudged Azzi’s foot back, indulging her.

They were so engrossed in their work that neither noticed someone approaching until a voice broke the quiet.

“Hi, Azzi!”

Paige looked up, her brows knitting in mild confusion at the sight of a girl she didn’t recognize. Azzi, however, smiled in recognition.

“Oh my God, hey! It’s nice to see you outside of class,” Azzi said warmly. She gestured between them. “Paige, this is Elle—she’s in a couple of my classes. Elle, this is Paige.”

Before Paige could say a polite “Nice to meet you,” Elle let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I know who she is, Az. It’s kind of hard not to know who Paige Bueckers is on this campus.”

Paige chuckled, though the comment made her cringe a little inside. She always hated when people did that. Meeting someone and knowing of them were completely different in her mind. Still, she managed a smile, keeping it light. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Azzi quickly looked between them, having heard Paige ramble about people doing that to her more than once before. Once she realized Paige was fine she turned her attention back to Elle who was chatting about their class. Paige shifted her focus back to her paper, letting Azzi carry the conversation, her foot still brushing against Paige’s under the table as she worked.

At some point, Elle had slid into the seat next to Azzi, the two of them catching up on class and tossing around ideas for a project they had agreed to work on together after Elle asked. Paige stayed quiet, her focus seemingly glued to her laptop as she worked on her paper. But she couldn’t help noticing the way Elle leaned in a little too much, her gaze lingering on Azzi when she thought no one was looking.

Paige didn’t say anything—she wasn’t worried in the slightest. Azzi was hers, and she knew it. Still, she made a mental note of Elle’s overly enthusiastic demeanor, keeping it there for later just in case.

Eventually, their conversation faded, and the table fell into a quiet rhythm. Elle was scribbling in a notebook, Azzi flipping through her math notes, and Paige’s fingers tapped steadily on her keyboard. The library’s soft hum of whispers filled the silence between them, broken only by the occasional shuffle of papers.

It wasn’t until Paige felt a familiar brush of Azzi’s leg against hers under the table that she glanced up. Azzi was already looking at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Paige couldn’t help but grin back, warmth spreading through her chest.

Lifting her hand from the keyboard, Paige tapped her finger on the table three times—a silent “I love you.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed pink, her eyes darting back down to her notes as she quickly gathered herself. She stole a glance at Elle, who seemed oblivious to the exchange, and let out a quiet breath.

Paige, clearly amused, went back to her paper, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips at getting the reaction from Azzi.

…

As the clock crept closer to the library’s closing time, Paige closed her laptop with a soft thud, stretching her arms over her head. “Alright,” she said, glancing at Azzi. “Az you almost ready, I’m done for the night.”

Azzi nodded, letting out a quiet sigh as she began organizing her notes. “Yeah, same. My brain’s fried.”

Elle looked up from her notebook, her gaze flicking between them. “Heading out already?” she asked, her tone light but with a hint of disappointment.

“Yeah,” Paige replied, sliding her notebooks into her bag. “We have an early morning practice tomorrow.”

Azzi added, “And I’m pretty sure I’ve maxed out my tolerance for math tonight.” She gestured to her notes with a dramatic groan.

Elle chuckled. “If you ever need help with it, Azzi, let me know. I know he can be tough—I’d be happy to go over things with you so we can figure it out together. Maybe make it less painful.”

Azzi shook her head, laughing softly. “Thanks, but I’m good for now. Paige already helped me out. She’s like my personal mini Isaac Newton.”

Paige laughed at the comparison, adjusting the strap of her bag. Elle’s eyes flicked toward her, curious. “Wait, you understand this professor? How?”

Paige gave a polite smile. “I took him last semester. He’s not as bad once you figure out his style.”

Elle tilted her head, intrigued. “Ah ok. Are you in communications too?”

Paige shook her head. “Nah, human development and family sciences.”

Elle blinked, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “Oh wow. I wouldn’t have guessed that. I mean… you’re so busy with basketball, I didn’t think you’d have time for something so... strenuous.”

There was a pause at her tone, but Paige’s smile didn’t drop. “I make it work,” she said simply, her tone even but firm.

Azzi, noticing the subtle tension, broke in with a grin. “She’s being modest.”

Paige gave her a look, but her lips twitched with amusement. “Don’t start big head.”

Elle laughed lightly, though her attention lingered on Paige a moment longer. “Well, that’s impressive,” she said, her tone softer now. “Good for you.”

Paige nodded. “Thanks.”

As the conversation ebbed, Elle turned her attention back to Azzi, her tone a little more animated. “By the way, I meant to tell you—your presentation last week? It was really good. Like, you made everything sound so clear and relatable. I was kind of jealous.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I stumbled through half of it.”

“No way,” Elle insisted. “You were amazing. Honestly, I wish I had even half your confidence when I’m up there.”

Paige watched the exchange quietly, her expression unreadable as she scrolled on her phone waiting for Azzi.

Azzi shrugged modestly. “Appreciate it, but it’s all practice. I’m a little lucky with getting the extra practice from interviews. You’ll get there though.”

As they gathered the last of their things, Elle leaned slightly toward Azzi, her voice dropping just enough to seem more personal. “Seriously, though, if you ever want to practice a presentation or go over the project, just text me. I’d love to help out—or just hang out, you know.”

Paige’s brow twitched, but she remained silent, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Azzi smiled, brushing it off with her usual ease. “Will do. Thanks, Elle.”

As they started walking toward the exit, Elle called after them with a warm smile, her gaze lingering on Azzi. “Goodnight! Azzi, don’t forget—I’m just a text away.”

Azzi turned, waving casually. “Got it. See you in class.”

…

About a week later they found themselves back in the library. This time because Azzi needed to work on her project with Elle and the team made it a point to not have people they didn’t know that well know where their rooms were. Paige had begrudgingly agreed to tag along after Azzi made her turn off the game. Ice, who had been playing the game with Paige and someone who was always up for people-watching and a chance to bother Paige, came along too, settling next to Paige at the table.

Azzi and Elle sat on the opposite side, laptops open and papers spread out between them as they hashed out the finer details of their project. Paige had her own laptop propped up, supposedly working on a presentation, but her focus wavered as her attention drifted to the other pair.

It didn’t escape Paige how Elle seemed to hang on to every word Azzi said, nodding eagerly, her expression animated. And while Paige tried to ignore it, she couldn’t help but notice how Elle’s chair seemed to have mysteriously scooted a couple of inches closer to Azzi since they’d sat down.

A buzz from her phone interrupted her thoughts. Picking it up, Paige saw a text from Ice, who was smirking faintly next to her.

Icy ❄️: She’s eager.

Paige but back a laugh as she typed a reply.

P Boogers ⛹🏼‍♀️: So I’m not crazy?

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Icy ❄️: If she leans in any closer, she’s falling in Azzi’s lap

Paige let out a quiet snort, her shoulders shaking slightly as she glanced up at Ice. The two exchanged amused looks before Ice added another text.

Icy ❄️: Lowkey feel like we intruding on her plans

That one made Paige laugh under her breath, though she quickly covered it with a cough, glancing down at her screen to hide her amusement.

Azzi, picking up on the movement and muffled sounds, glanced up from her notes. Her brow furrowed in curiosity as she looked between Paige and Ice. “What’s so funny?” she asked, tilting her head.

Paige gave her an innocent look, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing,” she said smoothly, but the slight twitch of her lips betrayed her.

Azzi narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Mhm. Sure.”

Paige just shot her a knowing look that said, I’ll tell you later, before going back to typing on her laptop.

Meanwhile, Elle, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, leaned a little closer to Azzi, pointing at something on the screen. “So, for this part, we could either expand on the point or keep it short. What do you think?”

Azzi considered it for a moment before responding, her tone thoughtful. “I think we should keep it short. Too much detail might make it confusing.”

Elle nodded enthusiastically. “That makes sense. You’re really good at simplifying things. Honestly, I’d be lost without you right now.”

Ice and Paige exchanged another glance, Ice raising an eyebrow as if to say, See what I mean? Paige’s lips twitched in amusement, but she said nothing, focusing instead on her work.

As the day wore on, the dynamic remained the same—Elle constantly seeking Azzi’s input, Paige silently observing, and Ice sneaking occasional texts that kept Paige entertained.

The library was quieter than usual today. Paige had her glasses, that Azzi thankfully grabbed for her, perched on her nose as she typed away on her laptop with her iPad propped up silently playing an NBA game. Next to her Ice scrolled through her phone, occasionally tapping away at her own work. Azzi and Elle, were still engrossed in their project, their heads bent close together over Azzi’s laptop.

The steady rhythm of their work was interrupted when a young woman approached the table nervously. “I’m so sorry to bother you while you’re working,” she said timidly, her eyes flicking to Paige. “But could I get a picture with you?”

Paige looked up, blinking behind her glasses before offering a warm smile. “No, it’s okay. Of course.” She took off her glasses, setting them on the table, and pushed her chair back slightly to make room.

The girl quickly leaned in, snapping a selfie with Paige, her excitement clear. “Thank you so much,” she said breathlessly, clutching her phone like a treasure. “And I’m sorry for bothering you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Paige replied easily, giving her a quick smile. “Have a good day.”

As the girl walked away, Paige casually slipped her glasses back on and resumed typing as if nothing had happened. Ice didn’t look up from her phone, and Azzi returned her attention to her laptop. Elle, however, was looking at Paige with thinly veiled curiosity.

“Isn’t that a little weird?” Elle finally asked, breaking the silence.

Paige raised an eyebrow, looking at her. “What’s weird?”

“People just… walking up to you like that,” Elle said, gesturing vaguely. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

Paige shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Not really. I’ll always make time for people who support me.”

Elle tilted her head, her curiosity not quite satisfied. “Your girlfriend doesn’t get jealous?”

At this, Paige froze, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Ice’s head snapped up, and Azzi’s shoulders stiffened slightly. A brief silence fell over the table as Paige stared at Elle, confused.

“What?” Paige asked, her tone guarded.

Elle pointed at Paige’s neck, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “Your neck. There’s, um… a lot going on there.”

Realization dawned on Paige, and hand’s moving to adjust her hoodie to cover the faint marks Azzi had left a little too high this time around. Her cheeks tinged pink, but she quickly covered it with a chuckle. “Oh. Guess she got a little overzealous,” as she shoots a brief glare at Azzi.

Azzi’s lips twitched, clearly amused, while Ice smirked knowingly, leaning back in her chair to watch the interaction unfold.

Paige cleared her throat, still adjusting her hoodie. “Why’d you assume it’s a girl?” she asked, glancing at Elle with a curious expression.

Elle shrugged, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. You just… give off those vibes.”

Ice snickered at this, covering her mouth with her hand as Paige shot her a quick glare. Azzi raised an eyebrow, looking more entertained than anything.

Paige chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. “Uh, thanks, I guess?” she muttered before clearing her throat. “But, um, no, to answer your question... she doesn’t mind.”

Elle looked surprised at Paige’s admission, but her curiosity only deepened. “Really? She’s cool with random people coming up to you all the time? A lot of them probably have crushes.”

Paige’s expression softened slightly, a small smile playing at her lips. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter now. “She understands what it’s like.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, carrying a weight that Elle didn’t fully grasp. Azzi glanced at Paige, her features relaxing into a fond smile that she quickly masked by looking down at her notebook.

Ice, however, noticed and smirked again, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Yeah, I bet she really understands,” Ice muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Paige to hear.

Paige shot her another quick glare but couldn’t fight the grin tugging at her lips. “Mind your business,” she mumbled, turning her focus back to her laptop.

Elle smirked slightly but didn’t press further, turning her attention to Azzi instead. “So, Azzi, are you single?”

Azzi, caught off guard, coughed slightly, shifting in her seat and simultaneously adjusting her hoodie just in case. “No, I’m not,” she said, her voice calm.

Elle blinked, visibly surprised. “Oh, wow. Really? You’ve never mentioned him before.”

Azzi’s lips quirked in a subtle smile as she corrected, “Her.” She glanced at Paige briefly before adding, “And we’re just private people.”

Paige couldn’t stop the small snicker that escaped her lips, amused by Azzi’s excuse. Without missing a beat, Azzi’s foot shot out under the table, connecting lightly with Paige’s shin. Paige bit the inside of her cheek to keep her reaction in check, keeping her gaze fixed on her laptop as if nothing had happened.

Elle tilted her head, her surprise growing at Azzi’s correction. “Oh, I didn’t know you were gay.”

Paige’s jaw immediately tightened at the comment, her fingers pausing over her keyboard. She glanced at Elle, a faint glare flickering in her eyes, but she bit her tongue, waiting to see how Azzi would respond considering Elle was her friend.

Azzi, however, remained composed, her expression calm. “Yeah, I am,” she replied simply, the edge of a confident smile playing on her lips.

Paige’s tension eased slightly at Azzi’s response, but she couldn’t resist shooting Elle one more look before returning her attention to her laptop. Under the table, Azzi’s foot lightly nudged Paige’s again, softer this time, a silent reminder to let it go. Paige exhaled, her irritation fading as she refocused on her screen knowing Azzi was fine.

Elle hesitated, clearly trying to mask her disappointment at Azzi having a girlfriend before nodding. “Oh, that’s cool. But yeah private is good. I totally get it.”

Ice barely suppressed a grin as she glanced between them, but Paige remained focused on her work, her expression unreadable. Azzi, meanwhile, busied herself with her screen, though Paige caught the faint pink tint on her ears, a detail that made her smile to herself.

The group settled back into a rhythm of quiet productivity, but Paige couldn’t help stealing occasional glances at Azzi and Elle. Azzi seemed fully absorbed in her project, her brow furrowed in that cute way Paige loves, as she scrolled through a document while Elle leaned closer than necessary, pointing something out on the screen.

She stole another glance at Azzi, who was now leaning back in her chair, looking at Elle with a little bewilderment.

“You’re sure this part makes sense?” Elle asked, her tone unusually sweet. “I feel like I’m overthinking it.”

Azzi shrugged. “It looks fine to me.”

“But what if—”

“It’s fine, Elle,” Azzi cut her off with a light laugh, leaning forward to tap the screen. “Seriously, stop stressing. This part’s solid.”

Elle relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping as she smiled back. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Paige’s grip on her pen tightened slightly now, growing a little tired of Elle throwing herself at her girlfriend. She exchanged another look with Ice, who snorted quietly at Paige’s irritation.

Before the tension could linger, Ice leaned forward, tapping the table with her knuckle. “Hey, Azzi, you about done? Paige and I were thinking of grabbing food after this.”

Azzi glanced at Paige, who was still focused on her laptop. “Yeah, I’m almost ready. Give me a sec.”

Elle looked between them, her smile faltering slightly. “Oh, you’re all going together?”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. we probably don’t have an ounce of food in our rooms right now.”

“Sounds fun,” Elle said, her tone light but her eyes lingering on Azzi a moment too long.

About five minutes later Azzi zipped up her bag, organizing the last of her notes as Paige stood up from her seat. Paige’s eyes landed on Azzi’s phone sitting on the table. Remembering something the younger girl was hiding, she reached for it, her fingers unlocking it with practiced ease.

Elle looked up from her own computer, eyebrows raising slightly. She expected some sort of protest from Azzi, but none came. Azzi didn’t even glance up, completely unfazed as Paige casually scrolled through her phone.

“Hmm,” Paige muttered to herself, tilting the phone slightly away from wandering eyes before walking around the table to Azzi’s side. She stopped just behind her, holding the screen in front of Azzi. “What’s this for?”

Azzi glanced at the phone, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You weren’t supposed to see that yet.”

Paige leaned down slightly, her voice dropping into a soft whisper, just low enough that Elle couldn’t hear. “Too late now. I like it a lot, though.”

Azzi’s body instinctively leaned back into Paige as she whispered something back to her. Her movement wasn’t much—just the smallest shift—but it was enough to make her posture relax, as if her body naturally sought Paige’s presence.

Elle’s eyes flicked between the two of them watching the subtle exchange, her brows furrowing slightly. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the way her jaw tightened didn’t go unnoticed by Ice, who stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Paige chuckled softly, straightening up and handing the phone back to Azzi. “I look forward to it.”

Azzi tilted her head, giving Paige a small smile. “Mm I’m sure you do.”

Elle cleared her throat, the sound making both Paige and Azzi glance her way.

“You guys are close,” Elle said, her tone light but tinged with something else.

Ice coughed, failing to hide her snicker.

Paige smiled politely, tucking her hands into her pockets. “Yeah, she’s like my best friend.”

Azzi didn’t add anything, instead focusing on grabbing her bag.

After bidding goodbye, the three of them headed toward the door, leaving Elle at the table as she worked on something else.

…

Later that night, Paige and Azzi were tangled together on Paige’s bed, the room dimly lit by her led lights. Paige hovered over Azzi, her lips brushing against hers before she nipped playfully at Azzi’s bottom lip.

“Ow,” Azzi laughed softly, pulling back just enough to pout at her. “That one actually hurt.”

Paige smirked, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, come on, you’re fine.” She leaned down to kiss her softly, the pout on Azzi’s face melting away almost immediately.

Azzi deepened the kiss, her hands sliding up Paige’s sides, drawing a quiet sigh from her. Paige pulled away slightly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she murmured with a chuckle, “You’re such a hornball.”

Azzi grinned, her fingers tugging lightly at the hem of Paige’s shirt. “Can you blame me?”

Paige laughed, sitting back and pulling her shirt off in one smooth motion. Azzi’s eyes immediately landed on the marks she’d left across Paige’s collarbone and shoulders earlier.

“You got me caught up earlier” Paige teased, leaning back down to kiss Azzi again.

Azzi didn’t respond with words, just a satisfied hum as her hands slid into Paige’s hair, undoing her bun.

The soft buzz of Azzi’s phone on the nightstand interrupted them. Azzi ignored it, her focus entirely on Paige, until the buzzing sounded again, twice in quick succession.

“Popular tonight,” Paige muttered against her lips, but Azzi just shook her head, pulling her closer.

Then the phone started ringing.

Paige sighed and pulled back, reaching over to grab the phone from the nightstand. Azzi groaned, her head falling back against the pillow.

“What?” she grumbled, not even bothering to look as Paige’s fingers swiped across the screen looking at the three messages prior to the call .

Paige raised an eyebrow at all the messages and the call. “Elle,” she said, turning the screen toward Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes opened, her brows furrowing slightly. “Seriously?” she muttered, reaching out for the phone, but Paige pulled it back out of her reach.

“Should I answer it?” Paige asked, a teasing smile on her face, already knowing the answer.

“No, give it to me,” Azzi said, sitting up slightly and reaching for it again, but Paige held firm, her grin widening.

Without waiting for a response, Paige answered the call, putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Elle’s voice came through, hesitant but upbeat. “Um… Azzi?”

Paige smirked, holding the phone just out of Azzi’s reach for a moment. “Yeah she’s right here one sec,” she said into the receiver, handing it off to Azzi with an innocent smile that Azzi didn’t trust for a second.

Azzi sighed, taking the phone and pressing it to her ear. “Hey, Elle. What’s up?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound casual.

“Oh hey! I just wanted to check if you’ve had a chance to go over the notes I sent over after you left,” Elle said brightly.

“Uh… not yet,” Azzi replied, her voice steady, though her gaze flickered to Paige, who was leaning closer with a grin. “I’ve been… busy.”

Paige leaned back on her elbow for a moment, watching her, but then she leaned forward again, her lips brushing softly against the curve of Azzi’s neck. Azzi’s shoulders tensed as she sent Paige a sharp look, mouthing, Don’t start.

“Oh, no worries,” Elle said cheerfully. “I just thought it might help if we went through them together? Maybe tomorrow after class?”

“Yeah, um… that could work,” Azzi said, her voice faltering slightly as Paige pressed a kiss to her neck, this time lingering. Azzi’s free hand pushed weakly at her shoulder, but Paige didn’t budge, her lips curling into a smirk against Azzi’s skin.

“Great!” Elle continued, completely unaware. “Do you want to meet at the library again? Or maybe somewhere quieter where we won’t get distracted? There’s this pretty private coffee shop I know about.”

Azzi’s grip tightened on the phone as Paige began trailing kisses down her neck, her warm breath sending shivers down Azzi’s spine. “Uh… the library’s fine,” Azzi managed to get out, her voice strained.

“Okay, cool that’s fine! Oh, and by the way,” Elle added, her tone turning slightly sheepish, “I actually wanted to ask you about that third slide. I’m not sure I totally understood the point you were making.”

Azzi groaned softly—not at Elle’s question, but at Paige’s lips finding a particularly sensitive spot. She tried to compose herself. “The third slide?” she repeated, her voice higher than normal.

“Yeah, the one about media convergence. Like, how does that tie back to our overall thesis?” Elle asked, her enthusiasm completely at odds with Azzi’s internal panic.

“Um… well,” Azzi started, her words fumbling as Paige smiled against her skin at her struggling. Paige leaned back just enough to whisper, “You’re doing great,” before moving to another spot, this time lightly nipping. Azzi let out a sharp breath and had to clamp her mouth shut to stop any further noise from slipping out.

“I, uh…” Azzi struggled to focus. “It’s about… the integration of different media platforms. Like—um—it shows how, uh, traditional and digital media can…”

Paige’s quiet laugh at Azzi’s stumbling didn’t help. Azzi sent her a pleading look, but Paige just raised her eyebrows as if to say, Don’t mind me.

“That makes sense!” Elle said, completely oblivious. “But do you think we should include more recent examples, like TikTok trends or streaming platforms? Or is that too specific?”

“Sure,” Azzi said quickly, squeezing her eyes shut as Paige sucked hard above her collarbone, barely registering the question. “Whatever you think works is fine.”

“Okay, cool! I’ll jot that down,” Elle replied. “So, do you think we could finalize that section tomorrow? I feel like if we can tighten it up, the rest of the presentation will fall into place.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi said, nodding absentmindedly, her resolve crumbling as Paige continued to suck gently on her neck, making her breath hitch time and time again. She bit her lip hard, trying to keep her composure as Paige started trailing further down her chest.

“Oh! And about the intro slide—” Elle started, but Azzi couldn’t take it anymore as Paige tilted her head to the side for more access.

“Elle,” she interrupted, her tone a little sharper than intended. “Let’s… uh… finalize everything tomorrow, okay? I’ll take a look at the notes before we meet, I promise.”

There was a brief pause. “Oh, yeah, of course! Sorry if I’m keeping you from something you sound busy,” Elle said, her tone apologetic now.

Azzi huffed softly, glancing at Paige, who was smirking triumphantly. “It’s fine,” Azzi said quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, sounds good! Have a good night!” Elle chirped.

“You too,” Azzi replied before ending the call and tossing the phone onto the bed.

Azzi turned to Paige, her cheeks flushed. “You’re on timeout,” she said firmly, though the hint of her smile betrayed her.

Paige leaned back on her elbows, completely unrepentant. “What? I was just keeping myself entertained while my girl was busy,” she said, her grin widening.

Azzi groaned, running a hand through her hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Elle seems to think you are too.”

Azzi’s head snapped toward Paige, frowning. “What? No, she doesn’t,” she said, crossing her arms defensively.

Paige snorted, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, okay. She’s just super friendly, right? Sure.”

“She is just friendly,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes. “That’s just her personality.”

Paige tilted her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Mmm. I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure she has a little crush on you.”

Azzi huffed, but the faintest hint of pink crept up her neck at herself, possibly being oblivious. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, I’m imagining things?” Paige asked. “She doesn’t light up every time you talk? Or scoot her chair closer? Practically trip over herself to help you?”

Azzi hesitated, and Paige continued. “See? You know I’m right.”

“She’s just… enthusiastic,” Azzi muttered, though her tone wasn’t as confident as before.

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Okay, how about this then? Let’s make a bet.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “A bet? About what?”

Paige leaned back against the headboard, her smirk growing. “Simple. I bet Elle tries something tomorrow when you meet up.”

Azzi groaned, grabbing a pillow. “Paige, she’s not going to try anything. I told her I have a girlfriend.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “Yeah, because that always stops people who are already crushing hard.”

Azzi let out a laugh, tossing the pillow at Paige. “You’re so full of it. Fine. What are we betting?”

Paige smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Alright, if I’m right, you gotta let me put her in her place.”

Azzi groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Paige, no.”

“What?” Paige said, laughing. “I’m not saying I’ll be mean. Just, you know, a little something to make it clear who you belong to.”

Azzi shook her head, though she couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re annoying.”

“I’m hilarious,” Paige corrected, leaning back smugly. “Come on, it’ll be harmless. I swear I won’t be over the top.”

Azzi sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous. Fine. But what happens if I win?”

Paige shrugged casually. “I don’t know. You can pick.”

Azzi’s gaze shifted toward the closet, her expression turning mischievous.

Paige immediately sat up, narrowing her eyes. “Hell no.”

Azzi pouted dramatically, clasping her hands together like she was begging. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s never happening Az and you know it,” Paige said firmly, crossing her arms.

“Fine,” Azzi said, sighing as though greatly inconvenienced. “If I win, you’re doing the dishes for a week. And laundry.”

Paige groaned, throwing herself back onto the bed. “Why do your bets always come with chores?”

“Because I’m practical,” Azzi said, grinning as she lay down beside her. “And because I know you’ll lose.”

Paige turned her head, giving Azzi a playful glare. “We’ll see about that.”

Azzi laughed softly, shaking her head. “Alright, deal.”

Paige held out her pinky. “Pinky swear?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but hooked her pinky with Paige’s anyway. “You’re so weird.”

“I love you too,” Paige said, her grin widening.

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the fond smile on her lips betrayed her. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore,” she said, her voice softening as she moved to climb onto Paige’s lap, straddling her with ease.

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, her hands instinctively finding Azzi’s hips. She tilted her head back, her lips curving into a smirk. “Mmm,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing lightly over Azzi’s sides. “What do you wanna talk about then?”

Azzi leaned down, her hands bracing on either side of Paige’s head as her lips hovered just above hers. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she whispered, “I don’t really want to talk.”

Paige’s smirk deepened, her grip on Azzi’s hips tightening slightly. “Good,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Talking’s overrated.”

Azzi chuckled softly before closing the gap between them, her lips pressing against Paige’s with a slow, deliberate intensity. Paige responded immediately, her hands sliding up Azzi’s sides and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

[deeplyshalllow]

Glinda gets what she deserves at the end of Wicked

I don’t necessarily mean this in an all negative light either, Glinda’s ending is bittersweet – sad, but hopeful. But she does not deserve an all out happy ending at the end of the musical.

I don’t know if I’m gonna be crucified for this, but here goes.

Glinda in Act 2 is a key part of a fascist regime. She doesn’t just live in it, she isn’t forced to take part in it and she’s not working as a double agent (like Fiyero). She knows what they are doing to the Animals (which includes separating infants from their mothers and putting them in cages, and making Animals so afraid they literally forget how to speak), she knows and loves people it is hurting and yet she continues to actively promote it.

(I won’t point out the connections to real world situations, but I’m sure you guys can all think of examples and think of how you feel about people who are active participants in helping such regimes.)

We see she knows all this too. We see she excuses it for her ego and the power:

Glinda: Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it!

Fiyero: Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here!

Glinda: We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits.

Fiyero: You can't leave, because you can't resist this. And that is the truth.

Glinda: Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?

Elphaba: No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is!

Glinda: I'm a public figure, now. People expect me to...

Elphaba: Lie?

Glinda: Be encouraging!

And if one could possibly argue (weakly) that, given she’s not actually doing any of the regime’s actual violence, just keeping people’s hopes up she’s not as bad as those who are, she gets worse:

Morrible: Well, we'll just flush her out and force her to show herself.

Wizard: But how?

Glinda: Her sister

Morrible: What? What did she say?

Glinda: Use her sister. Spread a rumour. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she will fly to her side... and you'll have her.

Even if one argues that Glinda is somehow not clever enough to realise that they’ll end up killing Nessa, she sure as hell knows it will get Elphaba captured. And there’s no way that Elphaba being captured won’t lead to the execution of her best friend. Yes, she’s heartbroken, yes, she might not have said this when emotions weren’t running high, but it doesn’t make her terrible words less deadly (and bear in mind Elphaba hadn’t even done anything to hurt Glinda! It was Fiyero who chose to go with her).

Glinda only really starts realising what she has done in March of the Witch hunters, when Nessa is dead, Fiyero is tortured and presumed dead and Elphaba has descended into madness – all because of her own action. And, kudos to her, this is when she decides to change, she immediately goes to Elphaba and tries to warn her about the Witch Hunters, apologises and ultimately Elphaba trusts her with the Grimmorie and to continue her legacy (which she immediately does by overthrowing the Wizard). She has started down the track to good but she still has a long way to go.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last to point this out but “Goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely, goodness knows the wicked die alone”, sung by Glinda,is clearly not about Elphaba. Elphaba was not wicked, nor did she die alone (literally Dorothy was in the room and metaphorically Glinda supported and loved her). Glinda is singing about herself, Glinda knows she has been wicked, Glinda knows that it is her own actions that have lead to the “death” of her friends.

So what Glinda is left with is a chance to do good. A chance to live up to her name and make up for what she’s done. A chance to use what she’s most talented at, making people like her, to continue the legacy of her best friend. Despite everything, Elphaba does trust her, if she didn’t she wouldn’t have left her with this responsibility.

Glinda: Fellow Ozians, friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be... Glinda the Good.

This is why she is going to “try” to be Glinda the Good, because she hasn’t been good yet. She has learnt a lot of very hard lessons through the narrative, been dragged kicking and screaming out of her selfishness, ego and giving into her worst impulses and is grateful for a chance to repent. And honestly, I’m sure she will suceed.

And one last thing:

Elphaba: I only wish...

Fiyero: What?

Elphaba: Glinda could know that we're alive.

Fiyero: She can't know, not if we want to be safe. No one can ever know.

I know a lot of people take ire with this line. But Fiyero, always the best strategist of the group, is right. The last time Glinda was trusted with important information it led to a death and two more people nearly dying. She has not earned that trust yet.

But, remember, Glinda isn’t stupid, Glinda is in a position where she’s going to have to think more and more. Glinda has presumably seen her roommate get wet before, she saw Fiyero’s reaction to the rumour, no matter how much searching happens Fiyero’s body never turns up, how long is it really going to take for her to connect the dots? Sure “Glinda can never know” for sure, but she sure as hell can be comforted by the fact she’s almost certain her best friend did not melt from a bucket of water.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hello again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Andy comes up the stairs and you back up. Your adrenaline continues to pound in your skull. You inhale sharply and cough. He slows as he gets to the top. 

“How are you doing?” He asks cautiously. 

You nod and gulp, “fine. I’m... fine.” 

He closes his eyes and nods. When he opens them again, the intensity behind his blue irises makes you wince. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” 

“It’s okay,” you grasp the handle of the oxygen tank with both hands, keeping it in front of you like a shield. 

“It’s not okay. Your mom is wrong, you know that, right?” 

Your eyes dart back and forth, “she’s--” 

“I know she’s your mom and you love her, because you’re a good girl, but I don’t want to hear excuses for her.” 

You frown and flicks away a shell of tears with your lashes. “Sorry, Andy.” 

“Don’t apologise to me, okay?” He sighs and pushes his head back as he grips his hips. “Look,” he looks down the hallway. “We’re gonna figure this out, together. Alright, sweetheart?” 

You lower your gaze. You still can’t accept that your mom is just gone. That you’re here with just Andy. 

“She won’t stay mad--” 

“You can’t be serious? You can’t go back to her. Sweetheart, you’re sick and she’s not making it any better.” 

“It wasn’t that hard,” you murmur. 

His face flashes with concern and hurt, “that doesn’t matter.” His jaw ticks, “let me see your arm.” 

“What?” 

“Where she hit you, let me see it.” 

You pull your arm back and put it behind you, “it’s not--” 

He shakes his head, “I know it hurts. Even if you don’t show me, it doesn’t undo what she did or what I saw.” He sniffs and rubs his nose, “besides, I’m a lawyer, I kind of have to report that sort of thing.” 

“Report? Oh,” you whimper. “Please, don’t.” 

“Sweetheart,” he exhales. 

“Please, Andy. I won’t go back but I don’t her to be in trouble.” 

You look at him, the irritation stitched into his forehead. He purses his lips and drops his hand form his hip. He lets out a resigned breath. 

“Alright, for now. We’ll just do one thing at a time,” he girds. “Let’s go pick up that mess.” 

He steps past you and heads down the hall. You follow him, the wheels on the tank squeaking. He enters the guest room and kneels to gather the mess spilled from the belt bag. You near and bend to help. He glances up. 

“Sweetie, please, you should sit down,” he says. 

“I can help,” you insist as you grab your lip balm. At the same time, he reaches for it and clutches your hand by accident. You flinch away and recoil.  

He doesn’t say a word as he continues to gather everything. He checks a pill bottle before he tucks it away. You peek at his face and notice the red blemish deepening on his cheekbone. The slap was loud, it sounded painful. 

“Are you okay?” You ask. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he assures as he keeps his head down. 

“No, uh, that,” you point at his cheek. "Does it hurt?"

He stops, cradling the belt bag in one hand as he touches his cheek with the other. “Not really,” he says. 

You reach out, “here, I’ll take it.” 

He hands over the bag and you snap it around your waist, careful to keep it from tangling with your oxygen tube. He stands and clears his throat. 

“This room works for you?” He asks. 

You peer around then back at him. 

“You’ll be here for a while so... I could grab you more blankets. A fan?” 

You shake your head, “this is fine.” 

He clicks his tongue and looks past you to the window, “I’m going to make some calls.” 

“To the police? You said--” 

“Not right now,” he shows his palms. “I’m just... I got work, still, and a few other things. Sweetheart,” he steps closer, “you just relax, okay? It’s been a long morning. And if you need anything, my office door will be open, alright?” 

You scrunch up your lips and nod. It’s all you can do. You teeter around and sit on the side of the bed. You brace the oxygen tank to keep yourself upright. 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

“This is... normal for me,” you croak. “My mom’s right. I’m a burden. I’m too sick...” 

“She’s not right,” he insists. “Lay down, sweetheart. Take it easy. I’ll be about an hour and then we can chat a bit more. There’s a lot to go through.” 

You stay as you are. You wait. He lingers before he finally strides out of the room. He leaves the door open as you sniffle at your lap. What does he mean? A lot to go through? 

Oh, this is bad. You’re so lost. What do you do? You’re not Andy’s responsibility. If you do go back to your mom, she’s going to be so mad. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You wipe your nose and gulp. Why do you have to be so worthless? 

🩶

You can’t remember when you slumped onto your side. It doesn’t really matter. Most days you spend like that; dizzy, tired, and sick to your stomach. That day is worse.  

You want to be home. Not with your mother, just in your room, with your figurines and your books. With the familiar. You stare at the wall as you listen to the airiness of the strange house. Cars pass with soft swishing noises and a few voices come from the suburban scene outside. 

Andy’s footsteps precede him up the stairs. You see his shadow as he approaches the guest room and you make yourself sit up. What you don’t expect, is the other set of steps or another figure. You bounce slightly, expecting your mother, but finding only a stranger. A man. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Andy asks. 

You stare at the man then grimace at Andy. He stands just inside the door as the other man lingers at his shoulder. 

“You said you wouldn’t call the cops,” you squeak. 

“Oh,” Andy looks at the other man who gives a grin. “He’s not--” 

“Hi,” the man says your name. “I’m Dr. Kemp. A friend of Andy’s.” 

Your eyes flick between them. “It’s just a bruise.” You cover your forearm where the tenderness thrums. 

“A bruise?” He repeats. “I can look at that too, but I’m just here for a check-up.” 

“A check-up? I have a doctor. I have doctors,” you argue. 

“He’s just making sure everything is normal, sweetheart,” Andy says. 

“I could’ve called Dr. Hawes.” 

“You could but I don’t think he’d be able to see you at short notice, this is just a precaution.” Andy explains. 

“I’ll be quick, okay?” Dr. Kemp says as he nears and puts his leather bag next to you. “We’ll do the standard run through, alright?” 

You pout and shrug, “okay. I’m sorry, sir.” 

“It’s okay.” He assures you, “now, I don’t have your records so just a few questions.” 

You nod and your eyes drift to the wall. Questions. There's always questions. You answer the same ones over and over. It’s just like when you had to sit in court. 

“So, I see you’re on oxygen,” he begins, “is that something you need all the time or is it just now and then?” 

“Always,” you answer. 

“Alright, and have you been diagnosed with a specific condition that requires it?” 

“Several. Cystic fibrosis, asthma, other things...” 

“Hm, okay, you’re doing good. I know the questions can get annoying,” he says. “Do you have dizziness?” You nod. “Nausea?” Another nod. “Muscle spasms? Chest pains?” Yes and yes. 

“Even with the tank?” He prompts. 

“Yes, sir,” you reply bluntly. 

“Right, let’s listen to your heart.” 

He unzips the bag and takes out a stethoscope. You stand up stiffly as he comes closer. He points to the bottom of your shirt. “You mind?” You shake your head and he tugs it up, slipping his arm beneath. You blanch as your eyes meet Andy. You almost forgot about him. 

Kemp puts the cold stethoscope on your chest. He moves it around. Across the top, then beneath, closer to your lungs. He listens intently. He hums and removes it, fixing your shirt for you. 

He then starts with the other tests; temperature, blood pressure, eye response. He gives a thoughtful look then crosses his arms. He considers you for a moment. 

“I want you to try something for me, okay?” 

You nod once more. 

“I need you to take off your oxygen.” 

“What?” You yelp. 

“Just for a few minutes, alright? I’m a doctor, right? You’ll be okay.” 

You bat your lashes and glance at Andy again. He dips his chin. He watches intently. You look at the floor and unhook the tub from around your ears. You drag it off your nose and let it hang. 

“Alright, how are you feeling?” Kemp asks. 

You shrug. He just stands there. You do too. You sway slightly, confused. 

“You having any issues?” He intones. 

You shake your head. 

“Alright, just a small test. Hold your breath for me,” he bends his arm and looks at his wrist watch, “we’re going to see how long you can do it. Tell me when you stop.” He pinches the small golden face, “three, two, one.” 

You hold your breath as your eyes widen. Your lungs are full but not horribly so. You search the room in a panic. What if you pass out? Your panic rises and makes you itch but you keep your breath in. He waits and waits and waits. 

You let it out suddenly, “I can’t--” you gasp. “See, I can’t.” 

“A minute forty-seven,” he taps his watch, “pretty standard. Definitely pretty good for someone with bad lungs.” 

“A minute... no, it wasn’t that long. Was it?” 

Andy shifts as his jaw squares. His brows furrow. He looks angry. Kemp peeks back at him and turns back to you. 

“I’m going to review your records. I’ll put a call in to Hawes.” 

“Why?” You ask. 

“Just to make sure I’m getting a full picture. Right now, you’re doing just fine. I’d say you’re doing rather well,” he squeezes your shoulder. “What I want you to do is to take it easy on this.” He touches the oxygen tube. “If you feel out of breath, by all means, put it on, five to ten minutes, but not 24/7.” 

“But I need it,” you whimper. 

“I know you feel like you do, but I’m the doctor, right? I understand you have a lot going on but your lungs aren’t bad enough to warrant constant oxygen. I’ll be back tomorrow once I get the chart,” he says. “Andy has my number.” 

Your lip quivers. You don’t understand. You need the air. That’s what mom says. And when you forget to put it back on, she gets so mad. 

“You having trouble right now?” He asks. 

You stare at him and take a breath, and another, and another. “No,” you answer. 

“There ya go. You got Andy. He'll keep an eye on you,” he packs away his bag. 

“Thanks, Steve,” Andy says as he holds out his hand. 

“We’re even,” Kemp shakes his hand then looks back at you, “see ya tomorrow.” 

“Oh, okay, sir,” you eke out. 

He leaves and Andy gives you a nod before he follows. You listen as they go downstairs. You sit on the bed and clasp your oxygen tube in your hands. You look at the tank and frown. 

It doesn’t make sense. You don’t feel like you’re struggling. You feel like you’re breathing better, actually. It’s strange. Maybe it’s the adrenaline. 

Andy returns and you push your shoulders back. He enters tentatively, “well?” 

“I won’t...” you reach over and turn the dial to cut the supply. “It’s off.” 

“Maybe he can help. More than the other doctors,” Andy says. “Er, you know, you don’t have to hide up here. I’m done for the day so I’m free and uh, if you’re hungry, we can order?” 

“Not right now,” you say and hang your head. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s a lot,” he says. “You got time, sweetheart. Whenever you need me, I’ll be here, okay?” 

[ivymarquis]

Say You Won't Let Go

Greedy Little Thing

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 4.3k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Zombie!AU, PiV, Oral (F!Receiving), pregnancy sex, wee bit of lactation kink

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

If you thought your solo play time in the shower would calm you down, you thought wrong. 

You’re truly spinning out and losing your mind. That is the only reasonable explanation for the level of arousal flooding your system at the moment. 

All of a sudden you can’t help but be keyed into John’s every move. And surely you are projecting every depraved thought squirming around in your little brain- you’re imagining that he’s encroaching that much more into your personal space. His hands- broad and warm- gentle as always feel a bit firmer with his hold as he either brushes past you or herds you where he wants you.

You’re distracted, eyes fixated at the boarded up windows like they’re a big screen showing your favorite sitcom. The book you found lies open on the table, failing to capture your interest in favor of your imagination. Of another universe where John’s interest isn’t a figment of your imagination and he’s willing to do something about it. 

“Something on your mind, Love?” John’s voice startles you out of your thoughts and has you jumping on reflex. “Easy- ‘s just me,” he soothes as he crosses the distance from the doorway to the table you’re sitting at. 

“Nothing important,” you answer breezily, trying desperately to hide that you were just thinking about the various ways he could fold you like a piece of paper. Can always lie and claim to be reminiscing on the past.

He has no reason to doubt you, the rumbling hum of acknowledgment from him showing that you’ve not gained any unwanted attention. 

You don’t know what’s wrong with you, what all of a sudden has you acting like a cat in heat. The only thing you haven’t done at this point is lift your skirts and bend over the table in invitation. 

Any hope you may have of getting back into your book is dashed as he comes closer. 

You’ve never been one to fixate on how a man smells- and not even cologne, since that’s not an option these days really. But how he actually smells- you have no idea if you’re pulling off subtle well, but he smells divine and you know nothing will get done if you don’t get a hold of yourself. 

Hopefully your sinful thoughts are not evident on your face, but if they are then he doesn’t call you on it. 

It’s not uncommon for John to leave you alone for stretches and sporadically swing by to check on you. You know he’s in the neighborhood lurking for supplies and hoping to scrap up radio parts. 

The drop ins soothe your anxiety- that he is just across the street, or a few houses down. 

Although it’s still the end of the world and anything can happen. You begrudgingly accept that he has to leave on occasion so you don’t starve to death in the middle of winter in this frozen tundra.

“Gonna need to go further out today, Love. Not sure when I’ll be back.”

Your displeasure is blatant across your face. 

“None of that, now,” he reproaches firmly. “I’ll come back when I can. I want you back upstairs before the sun goes down.”

You’re pouting like a child, your earlier fantasies completely derailed as your thoughts swirl around the anxiety of being abandoned. Of course there’s a part of you that knows this is an inevitability. There’s only so many supplies in the area. John is reluctant to move you, knowing that the pair of you are relatively safe and hidden which means he’ll have to move further out to scavenge to care for you.

Your lack of an immediate response prompts him to reach out and cup your face, prying your mind from your surly thoughts. By now you know him well enough to understand the cue for what it is- a silent ask for you to soften back up to him and quit being a brat about him leaving. 

The logical part of your brain understands that there’s no choice considering you don’t wish to starve to death. Unfortunately until further notice your hormones are what call the shots so you can’t help yourself other than to be in duress over the thought of John leaving you for more than a few hours. 

“Why are you being difficult, hm?” He ponders, tone substantially softer than one might expect.

“I’m not trying to be,” you protest gently, settling into his hold. 

“And yet here we are,” his tone is more amused than anything else.

His free hand drops to your belly, something that immediately garners the attention of your baby who gives a volley of kicks. 

“You can’t wind him up and then leave me here alone to deal with him,” now it’s your turn to reproach John good naturedly.

Again, you blame your hormones. You like John’s hands on you- like John touching you. 

“He’ll be a good lad for his mummy, won’t he?” He prompts the baby, and you don’t protest as his hand smooths down your belly. 

This time your child is not called to action, deciding to spare your poor ribs from another litany of kicks. You decide to not question the way he immediately quiets down at John’s prompting. 

Despite the conversation you just had, you can’t help but pout and mope as John leaves. You keep it to yourself, even though you know your anxiety is bleeding through and he knows exactly what your thoughts on the matter are. 

There’s nothing to be done for it though, so you’re left alone with nothing but Fred’s shadow and your child for company.

You listen to John’s request and begin your trek up the stairs just before it starts to get dark. The natural lighting in the house is weird and casts odd shadows. It's overcast and a new moon, which will leave little to guide you with when the sun goes down.

With only your thoughts to occupy you, you think about silly little things because if you don’t then you’ll be cognizant of the crushing realization of your solitude. That John is out there somewhere in the murky darkness and there is no guarantee that he will come back to you. 

You’d have made a piss poor military wife.

It’s easier to think about how things could be in another life- if you would have met the handsome captain in some bar and flirted shamelessly in the hopes that he liked you enough to take you home and show you a good time.

That you were at his home, in his bed, with his baby nestled under your ribcage.

But you’re not, although in a way you are as close to that fantasy as you can get. 

You’re tucked into the little hidey hole that John has chosen to squirrel you away, waiting for his return upstairs just as he asked while your child does somersaults and uses a kidney for soccer practice.

Somewhere between bouts of fretting, you manage to fall asleep. It’s certainly not the best sleep of your life by any stretch but you’ve also had worse without question.

It’s also easily disrupted. There’s a part of you that is still keen to your surroundings- that’s still aware that you’re alone in the dark and the cold, and that to truly slip under the haze of sleep could sign your death warrant.

You don’t quite wake at the sound of the door creaking, but you drift that much closer to the land of the living. 

It’s when the bed dips under his weight that you stir, partly in offense at the cold air that creeps under the covers with him.

The greeting that escapes you is more of a whine than anything else, hands grabbing at him and trying to burrow under the weight of him.

“I’m right here, lovely- told you I’d be back.” He soothes you like an over reactive pet that’s absolutely enthralled with his return and showcasing it by trying to crawl into his skin.

He’s warm, a welcome reprieve from the biting cold waiting for you just outside your blankets. You want to melt at the sensation of his hands on your back. You’re a puddle of a human being in his hold.

And somewhere between your squirming and his soothing, you’re not completely sure who ends up kissing who first but you have zero complaints.

Quickly your searching hands find purchase on him, just as his anchor you to him.

You’re drowning, you think- head dizzy, completely disoriented as lust burns through you. This is everything you’ve been pining for and now that it’s in your hold you don’t quite know what to do with it. 

John rolls you gently onto your back as the pair of you break for air- hovers above you, mindful of your belly while still not being too far away.

“Tell me to stop,” he looks as flustered as you feel, and a part of you preens in the knowledge that you’ve impacted him the way he’s impacted you. That you haven’t been the only one yearning for more. 

“Please don’t s-“ you don’t even finish the sentence before he’s on you again, the covers rustling as he shuffles to position himself closer to you.

“Good girl” he praises against your lips, the words itching something seated deep inside you.

John’s hands roam your body, searching for the hemline of your dress only to hike the skirt up to your hips once he finds it. 

“Please,” you whimper and try to arch under his touch. 

Rather than immediately diving under the skirt of your dress, he continues to feel up your chest, back, hips and thighs. You could practically melt at the attention, gladly feeling him up in turn before your hands grope down his chest to pry at his shirt. Your make out is briefly interrupted as he shucks his shirt, although in the dim lighting of the dark it’s hard to fully appreciate everything he’s displaying at the moment.

“God, you are soft,” he marvels, lips leaving yours to kiss down your neck. 

You realize that he’s trying to keep the covers over you as he works your dress up your body, pooling the fabric around your collar bones as his attention drifts from your neck to your sternum.

One hand gropes at a breast as he teases your nipple with his tongue, immediately making you gasp and grab his hair. 

“Gentle!” You correct him- while under normal circumstances his grip on you would have been perfectly acceptable, you’re currently very pregnant and part of that means your chest has been sore the last few weeks. You’re so sensitive now. 

“I’m sorry, lovely. I’ll be gentle,” he apologizes, and you relax back into the mattress.True to his promise, John is far more careful of where he gropes and kisses, delighting in all the noises you make.

The sensitivity in your breasts has you squirming underneath him, whining in pleasure.

You feel strung out and desperate, some nebulous part of you aware that you're in trouble if you're already this amped up and he's barely begun to touch you yet.

Arching into his hold, you both freeze at the same moment you feel something akin to a release in the pressure of your chest. You haven't quite been sure when you would start actually lactating- knowing that the real stuff wouldn't come in until after birth, but knowing that there was the colostrum prior.

You're not quite sure what you feel. Flustered? Relieved? Embarrassed? But John remains unflappable, a mere "Tastes sweet" before returning to the task at hand.

The hand not anchoring your breast for his mouth drifts down your side, ghosting over the fabric of your underwear. You're wet- keenly aware of how his fingers trace across your skin. Gooseflesh rises in the wake of his touch, something to do less with the all encompassing chill that you two are trying to avoid and more to do with the lust that is firmly growing in your belly. The gusset of your panties doesn't take long to soak as he teases you over the fabric.

Your hips twitch, trying desperately to follow his fingers. 

You want more. It's been so long since you've had anyone touch you, and the weight of John over you feels phenomenal. "Please, John- I need you to touch me." Never in all your days have you actually begged a man to touch you, but your life has just been full of unexpected surprises lately.

"I'll take care of you, lovely- gotta be patient," he consoles you, paired with a teasing suck of one nipple before moving across your chest to get to the other one.

You don't want to be patient. You want him- now- and even though you actively have him right in this moment it's somehow still not enough. You'd say you're like an animal in heat, but animals in heat aren't usually ready to calve at any moment. It's almost alarming how little control you have over your own body right now. You're little more than your most base urges with spread thighs and heaving breaths as you keenly watch him.

"Gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart," he soothes with his words as his hand slips under the waistband of your panties. "'m not a small man- don't want to hurt you."

You feel dizzy just at the thought. You're well acquainted with what he's packing at this point, and the knowledge he's going to try to make sure it's good for you too is enough for you to find what minimal patience you possess.

The feel of his fingertips lightly searching for your clit has your legs spreading and thighs twitching in anticipation. He's an insufferable tease, tracing the pad of one calloused fingertip around your vulva and teasing the seam of your lower lips. Just enough to keep you keyed in on him, hook line and sinker, whining for more like an anxious dog. 

When he finally parts your pussy with his fingers, you arch up into his hold as he spreads your wetness around. "Bein’ such a good girl f'r me" his praise is low and gravely and shoots straight between your thighs. 

God the things that this man could make you do if he asked you nicely.

"John, please!"

"So impatient" he chuckles against your soft skin, nipping at you ever so carefully. Just enough to get your skin between his teeth, the squeal that escapes you more in anticipation than from any actual discomfort.

He shushes you, lapping at the patch of skin that he nipped in a mock apology as the hand slipping between your lower lips slides one finger inside of you.

There's certainly more to his one finger than to your own, and you must be such a greedy little thing tonight because you're still wanting another finger. John is in no hurry it seems, content to rock his one finger in and out of you as your body gets wetter in preparation of future events. 

His hand doesn't leave from between your thighs, but he moves further under the covers where they've obscured him completely, falling around your collar bones. Certainly warmer for the pair of you for him to do this like this, although your hips are already rocking. 

You've got a reasonable guess on what he's about to do, but not being able to physically see him does, you admit, add a certain level of excitement. There's nothing you can do other than lay on your back patiently like a good girl and wait for him to make his next move. His warm breath on your pussy makes you jolt, a thrill shooting up your spine.

 You haven't gotten head in ages- certainly not with your last beau.

"Try to be quiet for me, lovely. Don't need anything outside hearing your pretty noises," is all the warning you get before he's lowering his mouth to you.

It is certainly easier said than done- partly you manage to keep your whines and whimpers down, but it just makes your eyes want to roll back the way John doesn't hesitate to put his tongue to work.With a cursory lap of your vulva, he's quick to hone his attention on your clit while his finger continues to slip in and out of you.

 After a few thrusts of his wrists you have to turn your head and muffle yourself with a pillow as he gives you the second finger you've been so keen for. His fingers stroking you from the inside paired with his tongue on your clit is certainly enough to work you steadily towards your orgasm.

You're not sure that you're going to last much longer when he starts to crook his fingers against the anterior wall of you- seems he knows exactly how to try to wring out every last drop of pleasure from you, and you're more than game to let him.

"John," your whine is a small, pleading thing this time- not the same feverish anxious plea from earlier, attempting to get him to give exactly what you want. This is a softer cry, a plea and an acknowledgement all wrapped together that he will take you where you're trying to go if you'll just let him do it.

Cold be damned, your activities under the sheets have a sheen of sweat breaking out over your skin. You pull the blanket off of you, partially because you're starting to get hot and partially on the reflex that you want to watch him- although that isn't really going to be an option with your belly in the way. "Oh my God, please don't stop,” you beg, perfectly able to picture the smug grin on his face as you feel the vibration of him chuckling in amusement at you.

Your squirming is dealt with swiftly as he grips one of your hips with his free hand, holding you in place as you rock against his mouth. The pleasure coiling in your belly twists down tighter and tighter, your staccato breaths hitching as he pushes you closer to your climax.

Right when the dam breaks, it seems both of you were on the same page- one of your hands clamping over your mouth to muffle yourself right at the moment John straightens a bit and abandons your hip in favor of trying to cover your mouth as well.

Which suddenly puts you in the position of being completely at his mercy- that he's using the hand buried between your legs to see how much he can get you to squeal now that your noises are  muffled to his standard. 

When he lets up, you're dizzy and gasping for air. This is so much more intense than the orgasm you'd brought yourself to in the shower and that one had literally brought you to your knees. There's a part of your brain still cognizant enough that you want to return the favor- That he's made you feel absolutely divine and it's only fair to reciprocate that. 

However, rather than functional words, all you can come up with is to just paw at the top of his pants, mumbling more so than speaking "I want- I-"

Despite your complete lack of clarity, he seems to understand what your mission is regardless.

 "We can worry about that later, Love," he assures you, coaxing you onto your side and getting in close behind you. Despite having just gotten yours, for a moment you are incredulous at the idea that he's about to just tuck you back into bed and go to sleep.Then you realize the covers are still down around your ankles, and your night dress up across your breasts- and, blessedly, that he's pulling down his pants. 

God you wish you could see it, but between the darkness and the angle with him behind you it's not really an option. You can see enough shadows to have a vague idea of where he is behind you, but also the lack of vision is adding to the experience. 

Just groping and touching in the dark like a pair of frisky teenagers trying to not get caught.

"I've got what you need right here, pretty girl- lift your leg up for me," he instructs and you comply immediately. 

Oh God he's big. You knew that, sorta- have been well acquainted with what he feels like pressing up against you with morning wood. And he just told you that you needed to be prepped in order to take him. 

But somehow this feels completely different, and here you are lying soft and compliant on your side with your legs spread wondering how the fuck he's going to make it fit.You're completely gagging for it either way. 

"Please, please, plea-" you beg, head turning his direction in the dark even if you can't see well. Your begging is cut off as he drags his cock across your swollen folds, sensitive from the earlier attention he paid to you. 

"Easy, lovely. Told you I'd take care of you," he instructs, and it takes everything in you to lie still in his hold while he lines himself up with you.

Your mind is spinning a hundred miles an hour, excited by the prospect as he finally pushes the head in and gives a shallow thrust.

His chest is lined up to your back, one hand helping prop up your thigh to give better access. It's the most intimate position the two of you can manage, and it gives you a front row seat as he groans low in the back of his throat.

Oh, you like that noise.

You want to hear him make it again.

"Christ you're warm," he chokes, and a deep satisfaction rolls through you. Just knowing that he's as affected by you, as you are by him is enough to stroke your ego.

"John, I can't wait anymore," you whine, pushing back against him in encouragement for him to move. Since when did you become such a needy little mess? It would be embarrassing if you could bring yourself to care. 

You've been long overdue for a good romp between the sheets, and you are just thrilled to pieces that the captain has decided to be the one up for the task.

"You are an impatient creature, aren't you pet?" His admonishment is a gentle thing, as are his first few thrusts as your bodies acclimate to each other.

"It feels so good. Want you to feel good too," you plead your case, and really who was he to disagree with that?

"Feels fuckin' incredible, lovely, don't you worry about that. Sweet pussy of yours has me like a vice," You push back against his thrusts, eyes rolling as the angle lets him hit that one spot in you. Pragmatically, this position was the best to allow the pair of you to be close to each other while not overcrowding around your belly- allow some level of intimacy, as John is able to get up close behind you, and you can reasonably turn to touch and paw at him. But God is it also working for you as far as bringing you pleasure. Each time his hips bury against the plush of your ass he hits that spot that makes your leg shake in his hold.

"Gonna get you there, lovely, just-" it strokes your ego that he's babbling slightly as he speaks. That he's just as excited to have access to your body, to let you have him like this.

"John, right there- I, ah!- Oh God, right there," your pleading seems to just ramp him up. He's not rough with you by any stretch, just clearly comfortable that he's not going to hurt you and confident that your body's acclimated to take all of him. It's your turn to babble, whimpering and whining in his hold. The hand holding your thigh spread coaxes your leg over his hip, hand drifting back to your clit to stroke the little bundle of nerves.

"Just like that, hm?" he asks you like your eyes aren't almost crossing from how good he's giving it to you.

"Oh my God, please!" your brain's possibly broken. Your entire universe has condensed down to you, and him, and this bed and how damn good he's making you feel. 

A quick study, he's already learned your tells that you're inching closer to your climax.

"You can do it, pet- cum for me. I wanna see your pretty face when you cum all over my cock.”

You’re past words, clinging to him with one hand and the sheets with the other as you breathe and try to relax your tensing body.

“That’s it, good girl- deep breaths,” he coaxes you, and that’s the magic combination to get you seeing fireworks. 

He must still doubt your ability to stifle your orgasm yourself, muffling your noises by grabbing your face and turning it so he can kiss you. You certainly have no complaints, aware by the way his pace changes for a few thrusts that he’s not very far behind you before reaching his own end.

For a moment, the pair of you recline in silence as you come down from your respective highs. The heat the two of you made quickly starts to dissipate in the night with the covers still bunched at the foot of the bed, making you shiver as the cold finally settles back over you.

That movement is enough to bring John out of whatever post coital bliss he was in, shifting behind you to pull out.

“Hang on, love,” he instructs while pulling his pants back over his hips before pulling your dress back down your legs and grabbing the covers.

You feel calm for the first time in days, content to laze on your side with John behind you as he snuggles in next to you.

You remember turning your head back towards him for one last kiss- something slow and soft and gentle- and don’t even realize it when you fall asleep.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[lucygraysboy]

“it’s a wonder how they do it, right? i mean, they don’t even speak our language and somehow they just know if you’re a good or bad person, and what your intentions are. do you think they can read it off of our body language? or what’s happening in their heads?” thinking out loud, pale blue eyes fixated on the back of her head as his hand continues to travel across her back. over her shoulder, along the bumps at the nape of her neck, inching closer and closer to her other arm. olive skin covered in suds. “mhm,” he hums softly, praying she doesn’t turn around. he doesn’t want her to see him blushing like a schoolboy. “when i first walked in here, i thought that you’d ran away, but then i saw reva blue and began to wonder why you’d ever want to leave her behind… and started to question my own sanity, asked myself if you were real or a figment of my imagination,” he admits, chuckling sheepishly because it’s embarrassing to a certain degree. “i will never cause you any harm, lucy gray. i just need you to know that, okay?” even if she won’t instantly put all her trust in him. “and if ever want to go your separate way, i won’t go after you unless you want me to.” he’s not his brother. “and your favorite dessert is blueberry pie.” noted, he remembers. but he still leaves enough room for her to correct him if he’s wrong. “but not all desserts make you happy? that doesn’t make sense,” he playfully argues, just trying to provoke her to convince him otherwise. “horses.” what an easy question, he thinks. “i love and respect all animals.” even the squirrel that became their dinner as hard to believe as it may be. “birds and dogs and cats and cows and butterflies, but horses are just so special. my mother’s friend, back at the capitol, had stables bigger than whole neighborhoods in district twelve. plenty of stunning thoroughbreds. most of them had probably been imported from district eleven or something. anyway, there was this one chestnut mare that i really admired, could watch her for hours. she could run so fast…” eyes alight at the memory, but then he realizes that he’s been rambling for a long time and must be boring her to death. “sorry, got a little carried away. um, what’s yours?” he inquires, meaning her favorite animal. too bad there are no horses in district thirteen. it’s been so long since the last time he was near one… “thanks for trustin’ me enough.” to show him the wound on her leg. thank god he had that jar of iodine with him. “and how will that be your fault? don’t blame yourself for things that happened because other people put you in a certain position. what were you supposed to do? grab a brush on your way out? you had more important matters to worry about. it’s really not your fault, lucy gray. it’s not like you’re a slob by nature and let this happen out of laziness. you’ve been through a lot. it’s only natural,” he softly corrects, reaching around her petite frame and handing her the soapy washcloth so that she can scrub her legs and torso. calloused fingertips sinking beneath the surface, getting wet before gathering her long hair with nothing but affection. “we won’t be cuttin’ it to your ears. if we can’t get all the tangles out, we’ll braid it and… well, maybe my mother,” the one who’s most likely sick with worry back in thirteen, “will find a way to help us.” but right now, he’ll focus on combing through these pretty locks with his fingers, careful not to pull too hard.

“i think they can definitely tell, who’s a good person and who’s tryin’ to bring harm. animal’s are intuitive like that.” lucy gray reassures, smiling softly as her arm stays around her bent knees, her free arm tracing circles in the water. “oh…yeah?” brow lifting, looking over her shoulder at him before eyes glance back towards the water. shying up momentarily again. “of course not.” leave him as a single parent. a twitch of amusement pulling at her lips before softening at the thought, thinking how she can’t run. but even it she could, would she? not… exactly. not when she doesn’t have a gnawing fear in her chest yet towards him. just like the animals they speak of… if she doesn’t have a reason or sense a reason, she won’t leave. just like deer and birds, she too has those same instincts. “sort of. i mean, i can choose a favorite dessert. i can choose a favorite month. but i can’t choose a favorite color, animal or flower. all flowers, colors and animals make me happy. hard to choose just one.” a soft laugh emits, gently shrugging her thin shoulders. “what’s your favorite animal?” questioning before hearing the awful story of the man he knew and before too long her face is contorting into disgust and stomach churning, vomit reflexes on the rise when he starts saying thing about smells. “lord, then, i sure am lucky you found me in time. i might’ve suffered the same thing. that’s sickenin’, bless his poor soul havin’ to suffer all through that.” feeling sympathy and disgust, quickly trying to think of something else. she definitely doesn’t want to suffer like that and scared up to keep watching her wounds. “i hope not, i really like my hair. but then again… that’ll be my fault, maybe i’ll learn.” scolding herself— to at least brush her fingers through it and keep it from getting so matted. “it’d be devastatin’ cutting it off to my ears.” that gives her the notion to quickly start trying with her fingers to start pulling some knots out, feeling a little panicky on needing the answer if she’ll get to spare it or not. the rubs on her back feel so pleasant, too. the most soothing feeling she’s felt in awhile but she can’t exactly relax with her hair on the line.

[vodika-vibes]

A Choice Made

Summary: When Howzer comes to you in the middle of the night, panicked and frantic, you realize you must make a choice. Of course, the reality is that you made your choice years ago.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x F!Reader

Word Count: 764

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello and Happy New Year everyone! this is my first story of 2025, and sorry if it's not the greatest. I got a new keyboard for Christmas and it's a lot bigger than the one I was using. Anyway! I hope you all like it~

Your home is quiet again.

Howzer, your Howzer, is sleeping peacefully in the bed next to you. He looks peaceful, and you’re glad for it. When he showed up several hours ago, he had been filled with a frantic energy that, frankly, worried you.

But a hot dinner and a warm shower did wonders to settle him, at least enough that he could explain what sent him to you in such a rush.

And that is why you’re still awake. 

His words echo through your mind even now. 

“The Empire knows about you. They’ll use you as a weapon against me. We need to leave.”

You knew this was a possibility when you agreed to date him all those years ago. And you knew the threat to you would only increase when you agreed to marry him.

But things had been so peaceful, even with everything going on in the core, so you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay. You’ve always been good at lying to yourself.

You shift in the bed and focus your attention back on Howzer, your fingers gentle as they comb through his hair. He doesn’t even stir.

It’s a testament to just how stressed and tired he is. 

He stirs as your fingers fall to the scar on his cheek, and his pretty eyes flutter open, sleepiness vanishing in a heartbeat when he sees you sitting against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

And, despite the seriousness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, a smile lifts your lips. That’s your husband, always alert for any danger directed towards you. “Nothing,”

He sits up and shifts so that he’s leaning against the headboard as well, and then coaxes you into his arms. Something you’re only all too happy to do. You always feel safest when wrapped in his arms after all.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” 

“I was thinking.”

He pulls you so that you’re sitting on his lap, and one of his hands comes up to press against your cheek. Immediately you close your eyes and press your cheek against his hand, rubbing your cheek against his rough palm. 

“Are you considering staying here?” Howzer asks, his voice quiet.

“No, of course not.” You slide your arms around his neck, “My place, Howzer, is by your side. You know that.”

“I’m asking a lot from you, cyare.”

“You’re not asking anything that I won’t happily give.” You press your forehead against his, “I was thinking of the logistics of moving. About where to go and how to get there.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to handle everything.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to.”

“Yes. I do.”

He sounds so convinced of this, that you pull back to stare at him, “Howzer?”

“You…” he trails off, and then a small smile lifts his lips and he pulls you into a gentle kiss. “I love you, so much. You know that?”

You blink at him, “Well, I would hope so. You did marry me, after all.”

“I did. And it remains the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” Howzer replies with a small smile, “And you…you’re the daughter of the Organa Family—”

“Distantly. I’m distantly related to the Organa family—” You remind him.

He ignores you, “And you came to Ryloth in the hopes to stop slavers from kidnapping the twi’leks and you set up a center to help former slaves adjust to being free,” Howzer trails off again, his expression soft as he looks at you, “You would have been well within your rights to tell me to go to hell when I asked you out. But you didn’t. You agreed. And kept agreeing.”

“You make it sound like it was a crazy thing,” You reply.

“It was a crazy thing. And it’s even crazier that you said yes when I asked you to marry me.” Howzer says with a grin, “But I’m asking you to abandon your life’s work. So let me take care of everything. Please.”

You sigh softly, “If you insist.”

“I do.” Howzer trails his lips down your face, “Assuming, of course, you choose to come with me.”

“You silly, silly man.” You shift on his lap so you’re straddling him, and press your hands against his cheeks, “I made my choice. Years ago. You’re my choice. No matter where you lead me.”

Howzer stares at you for a moment, and then he pulls you into a deep kiss. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Silly,” You reply against his lips, “I made that choice years ago too.”

@kimiheartblade

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@kiss-anon

[ghouljams]

Ok, just wanna say that I love your Hephaetus!Nikto.

Just a few things I’d like to say about Aphrodite. Love the way you have them written, I am in no way trying to make you change your interpretation of them.

She is one of the oldest gods along side Poseidon. Their lore dates back way before Ancient Greece and yet Aphrodite still predates him. Aphrodite is not just a soft thing. She started the Trojan war dammit. And she’s been associated with War as well, and not just in the sense that she has a relationship with Ares but of herself (then again haven’t done much research on this part so I could be wrong).

And Aphrodite is of the sea. The sea is no tame thing. It is wild. She is the Goddess of love and beauty and I’m getting a little pissed at Nikto for thinking she wouldn’t find him beautiful when it is her literal job to see the beauty in everything. Like come on dudeeee!!!!

I think the way you wrote him also pairs kinda well with the way you have the other Olympians view Aphrodite!Reader. I’d wonder if Aphrodite!Reader will ever snap on them and show them what it means to be the goddess of love and beauty.

Also fun fact, the ancient Greeks had multiple names for love that all had different meanings. I personally don’t know them all, but from what I recall, Eros is what they call romantic love.

Sorry for blabbing on, you don’t have to respond to this at all, just wanted to vent a little.

Oh no you're fine venting, I think a lot of people often think of Aphrodite in a specific way (pretty goddess of love who just cheats on her husband and is vindictive all the time) and here's what I will say regarding the way I'm writing Aphrodite!Reader:

Neither the reader nor Nikto is a reliable narrator.

Aphrodite sees herself as this wonderful loving force but she still walks the battlefield, taking trophies as often as she takes lives. She views herself as innocent in all of this drama and rumors, but she's done nothing to stop them(It's nice having Ares talk about how beautiful and good in bed she is, y'know?) She loves Nikto but she also treats him a bit like a curiosity, waiting for him to come to her because, well, everyone does eventually.

And Nikto is stuck in his vision of being cast aside by the gods. He's trapped in their mockery of him, why wouldn't he assume his unwilling wife, who begged to be kept a virgin goddess right before their wedding, doesn't like him? Aphrodite forces their way into his life, into his space, disrespecting any boundaries he tries to put up, of course he's wary of them. But at the same time Nikto only sees the parts of Aphrodite that they want him to see, the soft, the gentle, the loving with sweet voices and stroking fingers, so of course he thinks they're a bad fit. He's every bit her opposite.

The Trojan war has yet to happen in the timeline of the hephaestus!Nikto anthology, but I keep thinking about it because it will feel very out of character for Aphrodite to start a war over something as petty as vanity, but that's only because we've been seeing her through her own eyes.

Also I will say I think a lot of my softening of Aphrodite comes from my disbelief at the way goddesses act within Greek mythology. You're telling me every single goddess is vain and jealous, that they can't keep their man from cheating on them, that the Goddess of love can't find anything to love in her husband, that Artemis would turn her back on her desire to remain a virgin because one guy looked at her the right way? Like the way that the goddesses are depicted just reeks of misogyny and that particular brand of ancient Greek hatred for women. IDK So excuse me for making Aphrodite a little out of character from the myths in my attempt to give her the benefit of the doubt where no man ever did.

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (matthew sturniolo)

pt 10

A couple of days had passed and Nick just posted the vlog from our drive around LA. Charlie and I were lounging on the couch, scrolling through our phones. My notifications had been blowing up all day. Every few seconds, a new comment popped up, most of them about the kiss Matt and I had shared in the vlog. The hate comments didn’t faze me—they were ridiculous and honestly kind of entertaining. People had too much time on their hands.

“Oh my God,” Charlie said, leaning over to peek at my phone. “They’re actually mad about a kiss? Like, of all things to care about.”

I shrugged, smirking. “Apparently, I’m public enemy number one. Should I frame this?”

She laughed, but before either of us could say more, my phone started buzzing. Matt’s name flashed on the screen. I answered quickly, putting the call on speaker.

“Hey,” I greeted casually, expecting him to laugh about the comments with me.

“Have you seen my comment section?” His voice was tense, his tone clipped.

I sat up straighter. “Uh, yeah. People are being dumb. Who cares?”

“I care,” he snapped. “It’s not just about you, Y/N. They’re not even saying awful things about me. Its just about how I ‘picked the wrong girl’ or whatever. It’s everywhere.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at me, mouthing, ‘Seriously?’

“Matt, they’re just bitching,” I said, trying to stay calm. “You know none of that matters.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. “Your TikTok isn’t flooded with comments about how I ‘deserve better’ or how you’re ‘using me for clout.’ It's pissing me off.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, so what do you want to do? We can’t control what people say.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he spoke again, his tone softer but still firm. “Troll back. Lets just start making whatever we are way more public give them a real reason to be mad.” 

I hesitated, glancing at Charlie, who was already nodding eagerly as if to say, ‘Just do it.’

“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s do it, I love being a dick online.”

Matt let out a breath, some of the tension easing from his voice. “Deal. I’ll come over later.”

As I hung up, Charlie smirked at me. “Hes gonna make you do porn on tiktok.”

“We havent even fucked,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“WHAT?” She yelled jumping up sitting straight up “What the fuck was going on the other night than?” 

“He just ate me out and oh my god the hottest thing ever, he was so turned on that started jerking off. Just to eating me out” I said feeling a warmth between my legs rethinking about the night me and Matt shared.

“Wow. Thats really fucking hot, hes inlove with you” Charlie said looking away from me “Im picturing it in my head. I'm jealous” I laughed at her response as we laid back down going back to our phones. 

Later that night, Matt came over, his irritation over the comments still lingering but hidden under his usual calm demeanor. I greeted him at the door, grinning as I waved him inside. "Ready to show the internet who's boss?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "You mean, ready to show the internet that I don’t care, but also kind of care? Yeah, let’s do this."

Charlie, lounging on the couch with her popcorn, chimed in. “Make it iconic, okay? Something that makes the haters cry.”

Scrolling through TikTok, I landed on the “A boy who’s jacked and kind” trend. I turned the screen to Matt. “How about this one? It’s simple, it’s bold, and it’ll get them talking.”

Matt glanced at the screen, then at me, his lips quivering into a smirk. “You really think you can handle me lifting you like that?”

“Please,” I scoffed. “The question is whether you can handle me.”

Charlie snorted from the couch. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

We set up the phone, positioning it on the kitchen counter for the perfect angle. Charlie jumping around on the couch in the back, I stood in front of Matt as the trend’s audio began playing. The line “A boy who’s jacked” came up, and right on cue, Matt’s hands slid to my hips. With a swift, practiced motion, he lifted me effortlessly, placing me on his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me as I balanced on his shoulder, gripping onto him for support. The audio continued, transitioning to “and kind,” and Matt gave the camera with a playful grin, tapping my leg lightly.

Matt walked over grabbing his phone while I was still on his shoulders, added the caption: “my lady” and hit post.

Charlie shrugged, looking over Matt’s shoulder. “I like my cameo.”

Matt gently lowered me back to the ground, his hands lingering on my waist. “Think that’ll do the trick?”

I leaned into him slightly, grinning. “Oh, it’ll definitely stir the pot. But at least this time, it’s on our terms.”

We flopped onto the couch next to Charlie, refreshing the post to watch the views climb almost instantly. Matt wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer as the first wave of comments rolled in.

As we sat on the couch, watching the likes and comments roll in from Matt’s TikTok, I turned to him with a mischievous grin. “Okay, now it’s my turn. We’re making one for my account.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the plan?”

“You’ll see,” I teased, grabbing his hand to pull him up. “We need a parking lot for this one.”

Without hesitation, he stood, grabbed his keys, and intertwined his fingers with mine.  I laughed as he practically dragged me to the door, his excitement contagious. 

“BYE LOVERS! Chris and Nick will be here when you get back!” Charlie yelled from the couch.

“Bye baby!��� I yelled back to her

By the time we reached the car, I was giggling uncontrollably. “You don’t even know what we’re doing yet.”

“Don’t care,” he said opening the passenger door for me. “You said parking lot, so we’re going to a parking lot.”

The drive was filled with us singing to old songs wed listen to in college. His curiosity clearly bubbling under the surface. “So,” he finally asked, “are you going to clue me in, or do I just wing it when we get there?”

I smirked, looking out the window. “You’ll know when the time comes.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he turned into a small, dimly lit parking lot. “This good enough for your tiktok?”

“Perfect,” I said, hopping out of the car. I grabbed my phone and propped it up against the tire, adjusting the angle until it captured the open space behind us.

Matt leaned against the car, watching me with amused curiosity. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s the move?”

I pulled up the audio and played it for him, explaining as it went. “Okay, so, I start spinning in the frame when the music begins, and then you run in, pick me up, and keep running off-screen.”

He nodded, walking away.

I laughed, hitting record and jogging into position. The audio started, and I spun slowly, my arms outstretched as the music swelled. ‘You better lock your phone-’ Right on cue, Matt dashed into the frame, scooping me up effortlessly. I squealed in surprise as he kept running, the camera capturing the two of us disappearing into the shadows.

When he finally stopped, both of us were laughing uncontrollably. “That was perfect,” I said, catching my breath as he set me down. 

“Obviously,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Now, let’s see it.”

We walked back to the car, reviewing the footage together under the soft glow of the streetlights. The video was exactly what I had imagined.

“You’re posting that, right?” Matt asked, his arm draped casually over my shoulder.

“Absolutely,” I said, uploading the video with the caption: “my future baby daddy.”

As we got back into the car, I glanced over at him, grinning. “You really don’t question anything, do you?”

He shrugged, kissing my forehead. “Not when it comes to you.”

When we got back to the house, the sound of voices and laughter greeted us as we stepped inside. Chris and Nick were now sprawled out on the couch with Charlie, the TV playing in the background.

As soon as I walked in, a wave of excitement hit me. Everything had been going so well lately, and I couldn’t help but feel like life was finally falling into place. “Guys!” I yelled, throwing my arms up in the air. “We should celebrate tonight!”

Nick perked up, looking intrigued. “What are we celebrating exactly?”

“Everything!” I exclaimed. “Life!”

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Yes Y/N! I LOVE CELEBRATING LIFE!” Chris jumped up wrapping his arms around my shoulders behind me as we jumped like school girls.

Nick’s face lit up. “Well, if we’re talking about celebrating, I know Tara Yummy is throwing a party tonight. Should we go?”

Charlie’s eyes widened with excitement. “I’m in! We haven’t been to one of her parties. We've only ever dmed her a few times about a collab”

Matt looked over at me, smirking. “You good with that?”

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation, “Let’s go, I can tell Chris is gonna match my freak tonight” I said while patting his arm that was hanging on me.

Charlie laughed at me and Chris jumping around, we exchanged a quick glance before I turned, pointing toward the door. “Alright, you three. Go home and get ready.”

Nick groaned but stood up, dragging Matt with him. “Fine, but you better not take forever.”

“No promises!” Charlie called out as the boys headed out, leaving us to start planning our outfits for the night.

The moment the boys left, Charlie and I raced upstairs to start getting ready. The excitement of the night buzzed between us, making us laugh and talk over each other as we dug through our closets for the perfect outfits.

“I’m thinking something bold,” I said, pulling out a burgundy strapless corset top that hugged my figure and showed off just the right amount of cleavage. I paired it with a tight black cloth skirt that barely covered my ass and my black heeled boots. “What do you think?”

Charlie whistled, grinning. “Matt’s going to fuck you infront of everyone.”

I laughed, tossing a pillow at her. “We’re celebrating life, remember? What about you?”

She held up a black crop top with thin straps that fit her perfectly and paired it with a jean mini skirt that showed off her long legs. She added a pair of cute ankle boots. “How’s this?”

“Absolutely stunning,” I said with a grin. 

We got to work on our makeup and hair, After straightening my hair and leaving it sleek and shiny, I turned to Charlie, who was curling her hair into loose waves.

“You’re going to have every guy at that party eating out of your hand,” I teased, spraying her hair with setting spray.

“Please, as long as Chris is that's all I care ‘bout,” she shot back, but her smile was wide.

By the time we finished, we took a couple pictures in the mirror, grinning like excited to finally meet Tara, and get drunk.

“Let’s do this,” I said, grabbing my phone to text the boys to let them know we were almost ready.

“They better not keep us waiting,” Charlie added with a laugh as we headed downstairs, our heels clicking against the floor, excitement building for the night ahead.

Charlie and I were halfway through our second nip of vodka, as we danced around the kitchen. The boys walked in just as I tipped the tiny bottle back, the liquid burning slightly as it slid down my throat.

“Starting without us?” Nick teased. Chris followed close behind, already laughing at the scene.

Matt came in last, his eyes locking on me immediately. I caught the smirk tugging at his lips as he walked over. Just as I was placing the empty nip on the counter, his hands slid around my waist, and one moved down to grab my butt firmly.

I shrieked, startled, and spun my head around to glare at him, but he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his voice low and teasing. “Let’s go.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I turned back around, trying to hide my flushed face as I reached for my bag. Charlie wiggled her eyebrows at me but said nothing as she grabbed her purse and slid her phone into it.

“All set?” Chris asked.

“Matt’s driving,” Nick said with a grin. 

“Lucky me,” I said, giving Matt a playful smirk. “That means you can take care of me when I'm hammered.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, gesturing toward the door. “Per usual.”

Charlie and I followed the boys outside, the cool night air hitting our skin as we clicked down the driveway in our heels. Matt opened the passenger door for me, and I slid in, adjusting my skirt as he walked around to the driver’s side. Charlie climbed into the back with Chris and Nick, and we were off, heading for Tara’s party.

The car was filled with excitement and music as we drove, everyone hyped for the night ahead. I leaned back in my seat, sneaking a glance at Matt as he drove, his hand gripping the wheel tightly, the other holding my thigh. 

The house was packed with music blasting through the speakers and groups of people talking and laughing in every corner. As we walked in, the energy was electric.

“Y/N! Charlie!” A high-pitched squeal came from across the room, and Tara was practically sprinting toward us. She threw her arms around me first, then Charlie, her excitement contagious. “I was so excited when Nick told me you guys were coming! Finally, I get to meet the infamous Y/N and Charlie. You’re even prettier in person!”

Charlie and I exchanged amused smiles. “You’re so sweet, Tara,” I said, hugging her back.

“Come on,” Tara said, linking her arms with ours. “Let me show you where the drinks are. We’re getting started right now.”

She led us through the crowd, leaving Matt, Nick and Chris to socialize with other people, to a makeshift bar setup on the kitchen counter, complete with every type of alcohol imaginable. Tara wasted no time, grabbing shot glasses and pouring tequila like a pro.

“Let’s go, ladies,” she said, holding up her shot glass.

“Cheers!” we all yelled, clinking glasses before throwing back the first shot.

And then the second.

And then the third.

Before long, Charlie and I were fully committed to a shot-for-shot competition with Tara, each round getting harder to keep up with her.

“Come on, lightweight!” Tara teased as Charlie hesitated before the seventh shot, but I wasn’t about to back down. I threw our shot back, wincing as the burn hit my throat.

By the time an hour had passed, the three of us were absolutely obliterated. Tara was laughing so hard she was leaning on the counter for support, and Charlie and I were clinging to each other to stay upright.

“I love you guys,” Tara slurred, throwing her arms around us. “You’re my favorite people in the world now.”

“You’re my favorite!” Charlie yelled back, equally as drunk, before dissolving into giggles.

I nodded enthusiastically, my head spinning but too far gone to care. “Best friends forever,” I declared, raising my empty shot glass in the air like it was some kind of victory trophy.

The party was in full swing, the music pounding in my chest as I stumbled my way through the crowd, drink still clutched in my hand. My vision blurred slightly, but I was riding a wave of tipsy confidence—until I spotted him.

Matt.

He was leaning casually against the wall, talking to some girl. She was laughing at something he said, leaning in just a little too close. A flash of annoyance surged through me, cutting through the haze of alcohol. My mind betrayed me, flashing back to our college days—Matt fucking girl after girl.

Fueled by jealousy and bad judgment, I stormed across the room, stumbling slightly but determined. “What the hell is this?” I blurted, my voice louder than I intended.

Matt straightened up, his brows furrowing as he looked at me. “Y/N—”

“No, seriously,” I slurred, gesturing wildly at the girl. “What’s happening here?”

The girl blinked in confusion, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m gonna go...” she muttered, excusing herself quickly as the tension between Matt and me became palpable.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and before I could say another word, he grabbed my wrist. “We’re not doing this here,” he said firmly, his voice low but commanding. He pulled me through the crowd, ignoring my protests, until we were in a quiet, empty room.

He let go of my wrist, closing the door behind us. Turning to face me, his eyes were sharp, his tone clearly pissed. “What the fuck was that, Y/N?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” I shot back, swaying slightly on my feet. “Talking to some random girl like I don’t even exist? What’s the deal, Matt? Back to your old habits?”

His hands went to his temples, rubbing them in frustration. “Are you serious right now? She’s just a friend! And even if she wasn’t, that’s not what this is. You’re drunk and making something out of nothing.”

“I saw the way she was looking at you,” I accused, my voice trembling. “And you weren’t exactly pushing her away.”

He took a step closer, his voice lowering as he leaned in. “Y/N, you’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight. Chill the fuck out.”

As Matt’s words echoed in the small, dimly lit room, I could feel the tension building, the weight of everything from the party to my frustrations pressing down on me. But then, unexpectedly, the alcohol made everything feel lighter.

I giggled, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably from my chest. "I love you," I blurted out, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Matt looked at me, eyebrows raised, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in mood. "What?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and amusement.

I shrugged, the smile on my face turning mischievous despite the still-present anger in my head. "I mean, I do," I said, a silly grin stretching across my face. 

He stood there, speechless for a moment, his eyes searching mine. His lips quirked upward into a small, amused smile as he let out a deep breath. "You’re drunk, Y/N."

"Yeah, I know," I said, still grinning, "but I still love you."

He shook his head, chuckling lightly, before stepping closer. "You're lucky you're cute when you're drunk."

"You still love me, though," I teased,

"Yeah, I do," he admitted, his expression softening. "But let's get you back to the party before you start loving everyone."

I laughed again, “How about you just let me love you..” I pushed Matt back as he stumbled onto the bed.

“y/n don't… you're drunk.” Matt said as I walked towards him, placing myself on his lap.

“Just shut the fuck up Matt and kiss me” 

And when he finally gave me what I wanted, his lips crashing against mine as he moved against me, the world disappeared. There was only Matt—his touch, his voice, his everything. 

Matt’s hands gripped my hips, his hold firm but controlled, as if he was grounding himself as much as he was grounding me. 

His body was flush against mine, every inch of him radiating heat. “Wait till tomorrow,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine, teasing but not giving me the kiss I desperately wanted. “I refuse to fuck you this drunk, y/n. And you are making it oh so hard”

“Shut up,” I whispered, tugging at his hair to start kissing his neck as I grinded my hips into his.

His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin he could reach. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder that in this moment, I was his and his alone.

“Get off me before I go against all my morals,” he said, his voice rough and full of promise. “I say full of love and respect.” he moaned out as I perfected my last hickey on him.

“There, I just needed you to shut up so I could show people. You belong to someone” I said as I leaned back looking at my work.

“Good to know.” Matt said as he leaned down, starting his own art peace on my chest. 

Once he was finished he grabbed my hips standing me up. “Lets go baby” He grabbed my hand pulling me towards the door. I stopped in the mirror fixing my hair and seeing Matt's two hickeys, one on each breast. Matt walked over to the mirror inspecting the couple I left trailing down his neck. “God you are so sexy” He said, kissing my cheek as he guided me out to the party. 

As Matt and I stepped back into the party, the loud music and chatter hit me like a wave. The room felt like it was spinning a little, but I held onto Matt's arm for balance. We were just about to make our way back to the group when Chris spotted us from across the room.

He ran over with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There you are," he said, stopping in front of us. His eyes flicked between Matt and me before landing on me. "Y/N, I need you bad."

My eyebrows shot up, and Matt's posture immediately tensed beside me, sensing something was off. Chris, however, seemed entirely unfazed by the undercurrent of tension.

"I'm sorry," Chris said with a playful shrug, glancing over at Matt, "No, not like that anymore. I need you as my beer pong partner." He laughed realizing how bad his first sentence sounded.

Matt's grip on my arm tightened, but before I could even ask what he meant, Chris waved a hand dismissively and added with a wink, I couldn't help but laugh, feeling the tension ease a bit. "You scared me for a second there," I joked, shaking my head at Chris.

Matt let out a small laugh too, his shoulders loosening as he realized it was just Chris being his usual, over-the-top self. "Yeah, she’s off-limits for now," Matt said, his tone affectionate but teasing. "But you can have her for beer pong."

Chris grinned and pulled me toward the game, but not before giving Matt a quick look. "Don't worry, I only need her to win this game. And you," he added, glancing at me, "are the best person for the job."

"Let’s do it then," I said, grinning and ready to dive into the chaos of the game, trying to push any lingering doubts aside.

Chris, despite being a bit too drunk to focus, had an energy that was hard to ignore. He bounced on his feet, grinning like a madman as he lined up to take his first shot. “Alright, we got this, Y/N,” he said with way too much confidence, raising his beer.

Across from us, Jake and Tara stood ready, both giving us playful smirks. Tara was already holding her own drink, clearly just as drunk as me, while Jake had a look of determination on his face, obviously eager to win. “You’re going down,” Jake said with a laugh, tossing the ping pong ball up and readying himself to launch it across the table.

Nick and Matt stood off to the side, cheering us on. Nick was practically jumping up and down in excitement, while Matt pushed himself off the wall, going behind me whispering in my ear. "Come on, Baby" 

The game started off slower than I expected, with Chris getting distracted by anything and everything—whether it was a drink on the table or someone else at the party walking by. But even in his drunken state, he was surprisingly good. Tara missed her first few shots, but Jake was still hitting his, making me sweat a little. I had to focus, but thankfully, Chris and I managed to keep our heads in the game.

We took turns, and each time, I felt the tension rise. Tara and Jake had their competitive energy going, but it was clear Chris and I had the upper hand—probably because Tara and Jake were having more fun than they were serious about winning. Chris finally got it together after a few more missed throws, throwing his ball with incredible force and sinking it into one of the last cups.

“Fuck yeah!” Chris shouted, stumbling and almost tipping over. I had to grab him to stop him from falling off balance.

In the final round, it came down to one last shot. Jake was up, and I knew he was going to give it everything he had. He took a deep breath, lined up his shot, and threw the ping pong ball—only for it to bounce off the rim and miss entirely. The room fell silent for a second before Chris and I erupted into cheers.

“We did it!” I yelled, laughing as Chris grabbed me in a half-hug and spun me around. “I can’t believe we won!”

Nick and Matt, who had been watching from the sidelines, immediately started clapping and cheering. “FINALLY!” Nick shouted, high-fiving Chris.

Tara and Jake laughed good-naturedly, though I could tell they were a little disappointed. “Alright, alright, you guys earned it,” Jake said, tossing a playful glare in our direction.

An hour had passed, and the energy of the party was starting to get to me. I could feel the buzz starting to wear off, and I was ready to head home. I looked over at Matt, who was leaning against the wall, talking to Nick. He caught my eye, and I gave him a small nod, silently telling him I was ready to go.

I walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. "Matt, I think it's time to head home," I said, trying to keep the smile on my face, but feeling the exhaustion from the party creeping in. The lights were too bright, the music a little too loud, and I just wanted to go back to the comfort of my place.

Matt nodded, his hand immediately finding mine. "Alright, let's get out of here," he said, pulling me toward the door. We waved to Tara and a few others as we made our way out of the party and into the cool night air.

Nick, who went to get Chris and Charlie, was already making his way to the car, pulling Chris and Charlie along with him. We all piled into the car, with Matt driving, me in the passenger seat, and the rest of the crew in the back. The ride was mostly quiet, everyone content in their own thoughts after a long night.

As we drove through the city streets, I could feel the tension finally easing. The party was fun, but there was something about heading home with Matt, knowing the night was winding down. I leaned my head against the window, watching the streetlights blur past as we made our way home.

Matt glanced over at me, a small smile on his face. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah," I replied, smiling back at him. "Just ready to be alone with you."

We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the sounds of the car and the occasional laugh from the backseat filling the air. The night had been eventful, but now all I wanted was the peace of being home with Matt.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0lliess @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

[alrawabi-imagines]

Green with envy

pairing: Elphaba x Reader

Slot: Squirt Spanking Praise kink @tinybada

You and Elphaba were arguing about how she was so emotionally unavailable to you,you knew she was a bit distant but you wanted at least a bit more. And Glinda gave you the perfect opportunity to make her jealous,and see how much Elphaba loved you and if she was willing to show it. You made your way over to Glinda and pretty quickly Elphaba realized what you were doing when you called Glinda "Pretty girl” Elphaba tried her best to hide the fact that she was getting annoyed, Glinda smirked a little as Elphaba watched the two of you intently. Glinda played along with you,knowing what you were doing. Elphaba got more and more annoyed as the two of you continued to jokingly flirt, Glinda laughed a little as she put her arm around your waist. That set her off and she made her way over. She stormed over, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from Glinda, she huffed a little as she dragged you away. When you two were a safe distance away she turned to you. 

“What are you doing?” She questioned, though it was more of an accusation

"Just going to the one who shows me she likes me" She huffed once more, crossing her arms 

“Glinda? Really?” She asked, almost insulted

"Then who else?"

“Me, obviously.” She replied in a huff

"And yet you don't show it"

“Yes I do, I-” she stopped, not being able to find an example of her showing she loves you

"You have tonight,so fucking prove it"

“Fine then.” She said firmly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you behind her as she quickly made her way to an unoccupied broom closet. She pushed you to the wall,your back to her as her hand rubbed your ass and it was clear she was planning on making you pay for flirting with Glinda. “You’re mine,got that?” She asked, clearly jealous, though you couldn’t quite tell if she was actually mad, or just possessive. She placed a few small kisses on your neck before then smacking your ass,making you gasp.She smirked as you gasped, gripping your hips and pulling you as close to her as possible. 

“Say it.” She whispered into your ear,she smacked your ass again. “Say. It.” She repeated, her voice a bit more demanding

"I'm yours"

“And who else’s?” She asked.

"No one,only yours"

“That’s what I thought.” She said smugly, leaving a few more kisses on your neck as her hands remained on your hips, gripping you tightly. She still wanted to punish you,pulling you clothes until your ass was on full display for her to spank. She let out an almost animalistic chuckle as she squeezed your ass a few times. “Count for me, understood?” She asked

"Yes" you breathed out.

“Good girl.” She said with a smirk before slapping your ass, fairly hard. “One.”

"One" She spanked you again, a little rougher. 

“Two.” You bit your lip as her hand landed.

"Two" the next couple came in quick succession.

“How many have we got now?” She asked when she paused.

"Six" that was the one you were at,but you felt like you might have missed one.

“Seven, darling.” She said, spanking you a little harder. “Can’t you count?” She asked, though it was more teasing that anything else

"I'm sorry,I didn't mean to miss count" you hoped she wouldn't be harsher.

“Count to ten. And don’t count wrong again.” She started over.

"one" She nodded a little, letting you continue “Two, three..” You managed to count to ten but each spank felt stronger than the last. After the tenth one she paused and took a deep breath.

“That was better.” She remarked, rubbing your sore skin lightly. “Though I’d still say I’m not quite satisfied.” She stripped you,slowly taking everything off. Changing from scolding you to praising you. “Such a good little girl..” she whispered as she tossed your clothes aside, looking you over intently. “You’ve behaved so well for me.” She looked you up and down once again, admiring you for a moment. “Such a pretty thing.” She purred, her hands resting on your hips. She stood up,pressing herself against you and her thigh between your legs. Commanding you. “Grind against me.” She ordered, her tone commanding as she stared at you intently. Her gaze was unwavering and intense. You slowly moved your hips,rubbing yourself against her thigh. She smirked slightly, watching you grind against her, clearly enjoying how desperate you were. “Good girl, just like that.” She whispered, her voice low. You slowly moved faster. “Keep going.” She demanded, wanting to see you get more desperate for her. “Such a pretty little thing.” She muttered, squeezing your hips a bit tighter

"Elphaba" you moaned her name as you kept moving.

“So needy..” she said with a smirk, enjoying how desperate you were. “Keep moaning for me, darling.”

"Elphaba,please I...I need you"

“That’s what I thought.” She said smugly. “Needy little thing, grinding against my leg, all desperate.” Gripping your hips even tighter “Beg.” She ordered,her tone demanding.

"Please please Elphaba,I need you to touch me more"

“Good girl, so polite and desperate.” She praised, still holding your hips tight. “Want more?”

"Yes,yes please. I need you to touch me,I need you to fuck me"

“Such a dirty mouth.” She teased, her hand trailing down to your inner thigh. “Beg again.” You were now grinding against her faster and harder.

"please Elphaba I need you,I want you" She chuckled again, her grip on your thigh tightening. “Eager, aren’t you?” She asked, clearly enjoying having you desperate for her. "Stay here" she suddenly said before leaving. And returned a few minutes later and lifted her dress to show the green strap on between her legs. She smirked as she reentered, knowing you’d like the surprise. “Ready, darling?” She asked, her voice low with intent. She thrusted it all in,making you gasp at her quickness. Roughly but she did give you a moment to get used to her size. The strap wasn’t too big, but it was large enough that you needed a moment to adjust to it. She quickly started moving, picking up a quick pace. Her hands were on your hips, gripping you tightly. “Does it feel good, darling?” She asked

"Y-Yes"

“Good.” She said with a slight smirk. “You take it so well, don’t you darling?” She asked, her pace quickening a bit

"Please give me more"

“So polite, I suppose you deserve a bit more.” She said with a slight chuckle, her pace quickening further. “Such a good girl for me, you know that?” She quickly turned rough and thrust insanely fast,hitting a sensitive spot. 

"Elphaba E-Elphaba"

“Say it again,beg for me darling.”

"No,Elphaba I'm about it."

“What?” She asked, confused for a moment. Then she smirked again when she figured out what you meant. “You’re going to cum already?”

"No,I'm about it-" you cut yourself off with a moan as you squirted with one more thrust from her. You struggled to catch your breath. She was a bit stunned, clearly not expecting that. But then a smirk crossed her face as she realized what had happened. 

“Did you just…,” she asked, her tone a mixture of surprise and amusement. She chuckled as she watched you, waiting for you to be able to speak again. “You’ve never done that before.” She said, almost in mock-surprise

"Only once before"

“Oh so you do know how to make yourself feel good then.” She said, an almost teasing tone in her voice. “But I guess you feel better with ME helping.”

"I can't help that you're so good" She chuckled as she began to kiss your neck, nipping at your skin before mumbling “could Glinda do that?”

[lucent-roase]

The problem with your “There’s no one way to enjoy fandom” take is that everyone overwhelmingly, coincidentally, fixates specifically on that overrated white boy and thus pushes the idea that the only way to enjoy TOH fandom is to have Hunter as your favorite, because otherwise you will be driven mad.

But in the end nobody wants to reflect on their personal, individual contribution to the wider problem!!! It’s just the fault of the collective, which totally isn’t made up of individuals who are expecting everyone else to put in the work because they’re the special exception in their interest.

(Here is the original post)

Hi hello, I want to make sure you know I talking about Huntlow, not Hunter. Maybe my blog doesn’t show it as much as I’d like, but I’m a far bigger fan of Willow than I am Hunter, lol. I’m not really sure why you specified him. That post was about me wondering if I’m a bad fan for creating art and talking about one part of the fandom rather than everyone in the show, like the way other artists do.

That being said, I get the annoyance of a majority of the fandom liking a character you don’t, or that you think is overrated. I used to be in another fandom like that.

But why is it wrong to love a character that everyone else also likes, and why is it a communal problem within a fandom? I enjoy posting about Huntlow. As much as I love other ships like Lumity and Raeda and Gustholomule, I don’t have the energy or motivation to think of or talk about them as much. Obviously, I’m sure others would be happy to see a drawing of Amity more often (I still have a ton of asks about her), but this is my blog, and it reflects my life and interests! There’s no reason anyone should try and change what they like. It just so happens, yes, that for most of the fandom, that’s Hunter.

I admit that I don’t understand what the last part of this ask is. I don’t know what the “special exception” means, or who it’s referring to specifically. If you could shoot me another ask explaining, that would be very appreciated.

[samgirl98]

Connecting a Family 1/?

Next

Jason and his small family go to Gotham to reconnect with the Waynes during his birthday week

This was supposed to be a one-shot. It didn't turn out that way.

“A little to the left. There! Perfect!” Bruce exclaimed.

He turned and talked to the cleaning company manager he had hired.

“And everything is finished? Are the rooms done?”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne. Everything has been done to your and Mr. Pennyworth’s specifications. You are more than welcome to check.”

“Thank you. I'll check in a bit—oh, that banner needs to go over the doorway, not the window!”

Dick went up to the manager Bruce had been speaking to.

“I apologize for this. Bruce is a little nervous,” he said sheepishly.

“It is no problem, Mr. Grayson,” he said, not looking up from his iPad. “He’s not the worst I’ve had, and he's polite even in his demands.”

With that, the manager left.

Dick sighed and went to stop Bruce from harassing the decorators.

Bruce inspected the balloons on the balloon arc for any flaw he thought they might have. What flaws can balloons even have, Bruce?

Still, Dick understood Bruce’s nervousness.

Jason and his small family finally agreed to stay at the Manor for Jason and Alfred’s birthday week. It had been a surprise for the family in Gotham but a pleasant one.

And then Bruce went off the rails, trying to make sure everything was “perfect.”

Again, Dick understood. He wanted Jason and his family to have a great time in Gotham so they would be more inclined to return and visit, but Bruce was taking it to another level. The best Dick could do was follow Bruce around and try to rein him in. It wasn't working.

Maybe he should bring Mar’i to Bruce to see if she could calm him down. If Dick could figure out which of his siblings had his daughter.

“Bruce, can you help me look for Mar’i? It's time to give her lunch.”

Dick grabbed a hold of Bruce and dragged him away from the decorating manager. Bruce had harassed the poor employees long enough.

“Wait, I have to make sure they got the ballroom!”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Bruce, you hired them for a reason; they're the best. Let them do their jobs and help me find my daughter. Besides. I doubt Jason and his family will care if the balloon arc is three inches off center to the right.”

“I don’t know. Jason has always been a stickler for details,” Bruce tried to argue back.

“Not to this extent, Bruce. Chill.”

“Fine. Fine!” He took out his phone, “Maybe I can use this time to see if J’onn and Clark will still come. Oh, Kory is still invited. Make sure she shows up.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose.

Since Bruce learned that Danny liked space and aliens, he had been trying to bribe him with autographs, telescopes, and other space memorabilia. When Bruce found out that Jason was coming to Gotham with Danny, he called in a favor from his teammates to come over to meet Danny. Still, bothering his teammates will make them less inclined to come.

“Give me this,” Dick said as he took the phone out of Bruce’s hands, “Stop harassing people!”

Batman didn’t pout, but Bruce was close to doing so.

“What if Jason calls?”

“Then I’ll answer. Help me find my kid.”

They eventually found Mar’i in the kitchen eating a sandwich.

Alfred didn’t get frantic, but he was close when they entered. He mumbled to himself and checked over the food. All of which were Jason’s favorites.

“C’mon Alfie, not you, too.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Master Dick.”

“Alfie had been freaking out since this morning,” Mar’i said, “It’s funny.”

“Really, Miss Marie, it’s not funny at all to laugh at this old man’s distress.”

“Mar’i,” Dick said, “apologize.”

“Sorry, Alfie.”

“Apology accepted,” he said even as he read a recipe that Dick knew Alfred had memorized. Dick sighed—this family.

“Alfred, Jason is going to love whatever you make him.”

“Hmm, that may be true, but I’m trying to impress more than just Master Jason. After all, I’ve heard his son is a bit of a hard case to get to one’s side.”

Dick said nothing. Alfred wasn’t wrong. Danny could be a bit prickly. Dick still remembered Danny’s glowing green glare and tried to subdue a shudder. He didn’t think it worked.

“I’m sure Danny will love whatever you make, Alfie,” Dick tried to reassure the old butler. Besides, Dick needed Alfred on his side.

A chime made everyone jump. Dick pulled out Bruce’s phone and read the message.

“Their plane has landed.”

____

Jason took a deep breath, taking in the rancid, smoggy Gotham air. The clouds threatened rain.

It was home.

As much as he loved his little haunt, there was just something about Gotham that made him feel welcomed. It was almost like a mother opening her arms and welcoming him back home.

“Ugh, what is that smell,” Jazz asked while holding her nose.

“That’s Gotham,” Jason said proudly.

Ellie held her little hands over her nose while Jazz made retching noises. Jason laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go get that car. I’ll show you around later.”

“Does the rest of Gotham smell this way,” Jazz murmured. Jason ignored her.

They had opted to rent a car instead of allowing Alfred to drive them or use one of Bruce’s cars. It gave them a sense of freedom to know they could get up and leave in their own vehicle if things went south.

Jason hoped it didn’t. He wanted his two families to get along.

They got in their temporary car and took on Gotham’s traffic.

Jason pointed out landmarks and gargoyles he would hide in when he was Robin. He even pointed out his favorite one. He wondered how many times he had hidden by that gargoyle to get away from it all. It knew all of his secrets, fears, and hopes.  

Jazz and Ellie stared at everything with wide eyes while Danny stared out the window. He looked like he was contemplating something, and Jason hoped it wasn’t something bad, like how he would annoy the family…or scare them.

Because of Gotham traffic, it took them a little over an hour to get from the airport to Wayne Manor. They had seen a few accidents along the way. Gotham never changed, which was comforting in a way. Gotham would always be the same, no matter how long he was away.

They reached the manor and stopped in front of the gates decorated with balloons and lights. Jason smiled. He bet Bruce was going crazy trying to make everything perfect for his prodigal son's return.

Jason put in his codes and watched as the gates slowly opened.

Ellie and Jazz stared with huge eyes as they took in the estate and the manor. Danny was glaring at everything with glowing eyes.

“Behave, Danny,” Jason said in a warning tone.

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny retaliated back.

“Cool it with the spooky eyes, baby brother.”

Danny glared one last time. Then his eyes returned to his usual baby blues.

“Thanks, Danny. It means a lot to me,” Jason said.

Danny nodded once and looked out the window, his chin resting on his hand. He looked very unimpressed by the luxury surrounding him. They stopped in front of Wayne Manor, where the whole family stood waiting to greet them. Lights were decorating the doorway even though it was daytime. It was a bit intimidating, if Jason was being honest. After all, he hadn’t met most of them, and now they were standing before him to judge him and his family. He hoped they didn’t find them lacking. Not that his small family wasn’t anything but perfect…Well, for the most part.

Jazz got out first. Jason followed. Jazz took Ellie from her car seat while Jason opened the door for Danny.

“Behave,” he whispered at his son.

Danny rolled his eyes, “They better behave, too. They have only one chance to impress me.”

Jason sighed. Well, that’s the best he could do. Danny was a stubborn boy, after all. It was all up to the Wayne Family now. He wouldn’t help them if they wanted Danny’s trust and love.

Jason took Danny’s hand and went before the family. His palms sweated as he stood in front of them. Jazz stood by him, holding Ellie in her arms.

“Jason, Jazz, Danny, Ellie, welcome to Wayne Manor,” Bruce said. He walked up to Jason and put his arms around Jason. “Welcome back, son.”

Jason soaked in his father’s touch for a few extra seconds before he started squirming to be let go. After all, he was still holding Danny’s hand, and he felt how uncomfortable his son felt. Bruce let go and got down to Danny’s level.

“I have a surprise for you later.”

“Oh, now we’re trying to buy a kid’s love.”

“Danny,” Jason reprimanded sharply, “apologize.”

Bruce laughed, “It’s okay, Jay lad, I’m not offended.”

“He should be,” Danny whispered under his breath. Jason only caught it because of his super hearing. Even Jazz turned and gave Danny a look. His sweet son didn’t look cowed and jutted out his chin. Jason sighed. He’d have to talk to Danny later.

“Come, let’s greet the family.”

Danny dragged his feet as he walked up.

Alfred was the first one to introduce himself. He bowed to Danny.

“Welcome, Master Danny, to Wayne Manor. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne Family’s butler.”

Danny stared blankly at Alfred. Jason nudged Danny. Jason wanted this to go well but knew it was up to them. He could try to facilitate things but nothing else.

Danny sighed, “Hello, Mr. Pennyworth. Dad has talked great about you. I like the recipes you taught him.”

“Please, call me Alfred. I’m glad I could please you even while far away.”

“Heh, okay, Alfred,” Danny chuckled and then turned to look at the rest of the family. Everyone started squirming at Danny’s stare. His eyes weren’t glowing, but his stare was intense. Tim even hid behind Cassandra. Danny smirked at Tim’s actions. Duke Thomas walked up first. His stance was relaxed, and he had on an easy smile.

“Hey, I’m Duke,” the newest member said, shaking Jason and Danny’s hands. “I have powers, too. It’s nice to have more people who know what it’s like.”

“Hey, Duke, I’m Jason; this is my son, Danny, and my sister, Jazz, and niece, Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you! It’s fun to have more niblings!”

“I’m not your nephew, and you’re not my uncle,” Danny said quickly.

Duke’s smile didn’t fall.

“Of course, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I hope you see me as a family member in the future, even if you don’t see me as an uncle.”

Danny said nothing and looked at the rest of the family. Stephanie Brown introduced herself next, followed by Barbara and Cassandra.

“Call me Cass, though.”

“Cass,” Danny repeated as he studied her, “You’ve been touched by death.”

He doubted anyone else noticed; she didn’t flinch or react, really, but Jason knew, he could feel it in his core, that Cass was perturbed when Danny mentioned death.

“Danny, don’t mention death to other people,” he reprimanded his son. It was one thing to talk about death in their small family, but he doubted others would be comfortable talking about that subject.

“Sorry,” Danny said, sounding sincere.

“My name is Damian Al Ghul Wayne, heir to the Cowl and League.”

“Damian,” Bruce hissed at his youngest.

Danny blinked at Damian, “Okay. Nice to meet you, I guess; I’m Danny Nightingale. I’m not an heir to anything, though.”

“Tt, whatever.”

Damian said nothing, and everyone else introduced themselves. The last one to introduce herself was Mar’i.

“Hi, I’m Mar’i. I heard you can fly, too. That’s so cool! Maybe we can race.”

“Cool. I heard your mom is an alien princess. Have you ever been to space? Have you been to your mom’s planet? It’s so cool that you’re half-alien!”

“Yeah, my mom is from Tamaran. I’ve been there once with my parents. It’s nice. Why do you wanna go?”

“Yes,” Danny breathed out, his body vibrating with excitement.

“Before we plan to let you go on extraterrestrial travels, let’s settle here first, yeah, Danny lad?”

Danny walked with Mar’i, asking her questions. The little girl seemed to be enjoying all the attention. Jason and Bruce brought in the luggage, ignoring Alfred’s insistence that he could do it. The old butler wasn’t getting any younger, and Jason could carry his stuff.

Jason gave one last look toward Danny and watched as he listened to whatever Mar’i was telling him with rapt attention. Jason couldn’t help but smile. At least his son was enjoying himself with one family member. It was a start.

“I’ll go put our things in our rooms. Alfie, where are we going to stay?”

“In the family wing, of course. I have prepared rooms for you and put a crib where Miss Jazz will sleep in case she wants the little one with her.”

“Thanks, Alfie.”

“Come on, Danny. I’ll show you where we’re staying.”

Danny seemed reluctant to leave Mar’i behind. His little boy had gotten attached to his cousin quickly.

“Can’t you show me later?”

“I can show you,” Mar’i quickly interrupted, “You can tell me about yourself now.”

“Okay,” Danny said while following the little girl.

“I’m glad Mar’i and Danny are getting along,” Dick said.

“Me too.”

Dick smiled at Jason, “Welcome back, Little Wing, welcome back.

____

Bruce couldn’t help but hover over Jason.

It was a miracle to have his son back in the manor, and Bruce was enjoying it as much as he could. After all, Jason was only here for a finite time. He was also enchanted by Ellie’s sweet, mischievous smile and Danny’s curiosity about all things space. He couldn’t get a good read on Jazz, but Tim’s warning to stay away from her if they didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed by an intelligent and competent person.

He remembered the wary look his children and children adjacent had given at Tim’s words.

Bruce didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed by anyone, but for the sake of his son, he wouldn’t mind having his mind prodded. Jason loved Jazz like a sister, and he doubted Jason wouldn’t notice if people tried to ostracize her. Bruce would lead by example.

Jason had found happiness with his own family, and Bruce couldn’t help but feel pride and joy for his son. He could only hope he would be allowed to be a part of Jason’s family.

“The drawing room is ready. I have prepared refreshments for everyone to enjoy.”

“You’ll join us, Alfie, right,” Jason asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Master Jason.”

Danny stared at the drawing room with disdain while Ellie pointed at all the balloons and decorations.

“I think dad went a bit overboard, huh, Dick?”

Bruce flushed while still feeling a deep sense of joy deep in his heart. Jason called him dad. Bruce tried to keep the tears out of his eyes.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he said instead.

Jason rolled his eyes and turned toward his siblings.

“Let me guess. He harassed the workers in his quest to make things ‘perfect.’”

“Oh, you should’ve seen it, Jay; he couldn’t leave the poor suckers alone. I had to apologize for his behavior.”

“He was trying to find fault with the balloon arch,” Tim added, “What imperfections could balloons even have?”

“They could’ve been different sizes,” Bruce added mulishly, “I had to make sure they were all the right size.”

“How many arcs are there,” Jason asked, “’Cuz I’ve seen five already. Were you planning on inspecting them all, B?”

Bruce crossed his arms and raised his chin stubbornly.

All his children shook their heads, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation.  

“I can show you videos later, Jay,” Barbara, the traitor, said.

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, why don’t we eat? I’m sure everyone is famished.”

“I don’t know, old man, I’m kind of enjoying poking fun at you,” Jason said.

Bruce ignored his miracle child and went for a cucumber sandwich.

Danny went up to the table and inspected everything. He finally decided on a blueberry scone and bit into it, his eyes widening at the taste.

“Daddy, they taste like yours!”

“More like mine taste like Alfred’s. He taught me everything I know about cooking and baking.”

Danny stuffed the rest of the scone into his mouth while looking at Alfred. Danny picked up a cookie and sandwich as he swallowed the scone.

“Danny, you’re going to choke.”

Danny smiled mischievously and stuffed the cookie into his mouth.  

“It’s not like it’ll kill me,” he said with his mouth full, “I’m already half-dead.”

The room got silent; everyone held their breath. Bruce could tell what everyone was thinking: Died? Danny had died? He’s half-dead?

Bruce knew a little about Danny and Jason and how they had gained powers, but he hadn’t told anyone else in the family, trying to protect Jason’s and his family’s privacy. Looking at the horrified looks on his children’s faces (except Tim’s), Bruce couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake in not giving his family a heads-up.

Danny looked around the room. Then his eyes widened in understanding.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that so casually. I’m so used to joking about my death and resurrection in my old life, and within our small family, I forget that not everyone would look at it as a joke.”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, “Let’s not dwell on it and eat.”

Jason walked up to Danny and ruffled his hair. It was only then that Danny seemed to untense. Danny said something to Jason, and Jason smiled at Danny. He whispered something in the little boy’s ears and hugged his son.

Mar’i showed up to talk to Danny, and the two of them scampered off.

“Is he okay,” Bruce asked.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I know death is a taboo subject to most people, but Danny tends to cope with jokes. I do, too, to be honest.”

“I understand. I wish he didn’t have that trauma and had to cope, but we all find different ways.”

Jason nodded.

“So, what’s the surprise? ‘Cuz you already have the manor decked out from top to bottom, and the food is delicious. Don’t tell me you got him a rocket or something,” Bruce could tell Jason was only half joking.

“I’m not that out of touch, Jay lad.”

Jason raised an eyebrow and pointedly looked at the balloon arches and hanging banners.

Bruce sighed. Okay, maybe he went a bit overboard with the decorations.

“I asked Clark, J’onn, and Starfire to come. They’ll be here a little later.”

“Oh, Danny is going to freak. He loves Martian Manhunter. He says he’s his favorite superhero.”

Bruce almost pouted. Why did none of his children or grandchildren say Batman was their favorite? It was always someone else.

“Why’re pouting, old man? No one will say Batman is their favorite because we know you too well.”

Bruce actually pouted before smiling.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jay lad. I missed you.”

Jason tackled Bruce with a hug, “I missed you, too, dad.”

Happy New Year!

[o-kingston]

Gone With the Sunrise

Richard Grayson x Reader

Words: 1329

Warning: Angst (I guess), cursing

Note: This is my first ever fan-fic so I’m sorry if it’s bad. I read a fic where the reader confronted Dick about all the time he spent with Barbra and it gave me inspo to write this, but unfortunately I can’t find the fic anymore. I hope you enjoy it!

Synopsis: Life with your boyfriend, Dick, was a dream, right up until it wasn’t. You knew he was out there, keeping Gotham safe with his family, but a nagging feeling in the back of your mind couldn’t help but feel like he’d rather be out there with her rather than spending time with you.

The night was cold, or rather, it was lonely. Dick was off saving the city, once again leaving you alone with your racing thoughts. You knew he was busy, and what he did was important, but at this point, it just seemed like he would rather spend his nights with her than with you. 

God, Barbra was a force to be reckoned with. She's strong, smart, pretty, and sometimes, everything you felt you couldn’t measure up to. She got to spend her days and nights with him, and what could you do if she decided she wanted him again? How could you step in and stop her if she saw your boyfriend way more often than you did?

You spend your night wallowing on your couch, waiting for Dick to burst through the window and come to reassure you, but as the hours ticked by and the sun began to rise, the hope fluttering in your stomach hardened into dread.

You grab your phone with the time glaring back at you. You call dick and wait. When he doesn’t pick up you call again, and wait, and wait, and wait. After the third time the phone went to voicemail you finally shoot off a text to him.

You: hey dickie, i miss you. 

You: call me when you get the chance. 

You don’t bother waiting for his response, leaving the couch and getting ready for work. You don’t know whether to feel upset or disappointed; or both. You never see him anymore, never really talk, or anything. Time just keeps slipping past him, and by the time he’s done patrolling or hunting bad guys as Nightwin, he goes out to be Officer Grayson then repeats until there’s no time left in the day for you.

~~~~~~~~~~ Time skip to the end of the day ~~~~~~~~~~ 

Work had dragged on. Within the 8 hours you spent busying yourself behind your desk you had sent Dick three more texts.

You: i miss you. i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever. we should try to do a dinner sometime this week.

You: maybe if you’re free today we can get some food before you head over to bruce’s. 

You: i love you.

Every single message has gone unanswered. You were losing hope and you were frustrated with yourself for letting it get like this. You get home and busy yourself with your night-time routine. You figure that Dick won’t respond to you in time to grab a bite so you start making dinner. You get through your entire dinner, shower, and night time routine with still no response back to any of your texts. 

Your tense getting into bed, checking your phone every minute hoping Dick will finally text you back; disappointed each time your screen pops up blank. You decide to just go to bed and try again tomorrow, not really wanting to face your emotions tonight if Dick doesn’t show up. You slowly lull yourself to sleep while spiralling through everything that could’ve gone wrong in your relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~ Time skip to 3 am ~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to loud knocking on your window. You sit up, looking around your room for the source of the sound before seeing Dick in his Nightwing suit on your windowsill. You freeze, not expecting to see him at all tonight, especially since he never responded to your texts.

“ Y/N? You gonna open the window or are you gonna keep staring at me like a weirdo?” He asks. “I mean, I don’t mind but its a bit chilly out here.”

You immediately spring out of bed, going to unlock the window.

“Dick? What are you doing here?” You ask.

“I just wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend. Is that so hard to believe?”

You don’t know what came over you but you just snap, finally having enough of his hot and cold treatment.

“Yes, that is hard to believe. You don’t make time for me, you don’t text me or respond to my texts or calls. For fucks sakes the last time I saw you was over a week ago! What are you doing that is so much more important than even letting me know that you're still alive and that I am in fact your girlfriend still?”

“Where's this all coming from Y/N? Of course you're still my girlfriend! Why would you think that?” He asks, clearly caught off guard.

You take a second to regain your sense before continuing, “Dick, where have you been this past week.” His face immediately falls before blanking. 

“Why does that matter? I’m here now aren’t I?”

“Dick, it’s 3 AM. I’m not some booty call you come to when you're horny and nothing else. It matters to me where you are when you can’t seem to make time for me when the sun's out.”

“I’ve been busy working a case with Barbra. We’re onto something here and time just keeps slipping to the back of my mind. You know how I get when I’m in the zone.”

Your frustration was starting to boil over. You couldn’t understand why he didn’t understand why this was such a big deal.

“Why didn’t you respond to my texts? Or pick up the phone to tell me you wouldn’t be coming by at all this week?” Tears were starting to crowd your eyes, making the image of Dick in front of you blurry.

Dick grabs you, pulling you to his chest while trying to stop your tears from falling. “I forgot my phone at Barb’s place and I keep forgetting to grab it. I swear if I knew you texted I would have responded.”

Your heart stops beating and your body turns cold. “Barbra’s place? Why were you there? You said you were just working a case with her?” Your thoughts were starting to spiral again, tears of frustration and sadness falling down your face faster, and faster. 

“No, no. Fuck. Y/N, baby look at me. We were just there for work. I didn’t do anything, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“No, Dick. Why did you stay in the cave or something? Do you know how that makes me feel? You're ditching me to spend your nights at your ex’s place? God, how am I supposed to trust you, trust that you're not doing anything with her?”

“Because I’m with you Y/N!” Dick yells, “I’m with you, I have you. I don’t need or want Barbra, I only want you.”

“Then why don’t you spend time with me? Why don’t you call me or text me? Why don’t you think about how your actions affect me?” At this point you were sobbing. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. All of the hurt, anger, frustration, everything was flowing out of you after being pent up for so long. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. I swear I'll do better. I’ll get my phone from Barb’s and I’ll tell Bruce I need the weekend off. We can do something, just us. I swear. I only need you. I miss you too, more than anything in the world. Please just stop crying. Please.” He begged.

You couldn’t stop crying. You mind was running at a thousand miles an hour, and it all kept circling to one thought. He never said he loved me. He kept saying he needed me, and that he missed me, but never once did he say he loved me. 

“Dick,” You started. “Please leave. Please leave. Please leave.”

You kept repeating yourself, talking over him until he visibly deflated. He finally stopped trying to talk to you and walked back to your window. He took one last look at you before climbing out and swinging away. He looked beautiful as he left, with the sun rising behind him, making it seem like he glowed. You followed him with your teary eyes until you couldn’t anymore. And just like that he was gone with the sunrise.