#little things I’ve been really enjoying ^-^

[dokyumms]

eyes on you

pairing: ot13 x fem!14thmember!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 1.4k

cw: brief violence (album is thrown at reader), carats are mean to reader 😔, cursing, nightmares, protective svt ?, carat calls svt “oppa” and it’s the cringiest line i’ve ever written.

a/n: been getting some requests for 14th member reader so here yall go! couldn't find a good pic for this theme so just enjoy the winter photo lolol, have no idea if relationship between svt and reader is platonic or not so it's up to interpretation... i don't know if i like this or not....

fan signs were usually fun.

key word: usually. you really did enjoy interacting with fans, playing with toy guns and whatever props you were given, but there was just one thing that would always happen.

it was normally something small, just a weird look or an obvious difference in the mood of a fan when they'd get to you, but no matter what it was, it was always noticeable.

you were used to it by now, the hate that came with being the only female member of the group. thankfully, it'd died down since debut, and over time, you learned how to ignore the comments. the members were your family, and you were theirs, why should people online dictate how you live your life?

however, there was always something different about when it happened in person. maybe it was the way you could see the joy in their face drain at the sight of you or how someone would look at you as if you had hurt them. you didn't know, but just that coming from one person would keep you awake for nights, no matter how many fans you met after.

but maybe today would be different, or at least that's what you told yourself as you sat down between vernon and minghao earlier that morning. these two were some of the calmest members of the group, so surely someone wouldn't dare to piss them off by insulting you, right?

well, just about half an hour in, a girl shoved an album before you. you had your hands out in front of you, just fidgeting around while you waited for minghao to finish up with her before she nearly knocked out your fingers.

you were taken aback a little, but you gave her the benefit of the doubt and didn't react to it, just greeting her as usual. looking down at the album, you read the name written on a sticky note. "your name is gaeun? how pretty," you commented, uncapping your marker to sign the album when she stopped you.

"don't." she warned sternly, grabbing ahold of your wrist. you tried to retract it, looking around for help, but to your dismay, the venue seemed to be understaffed. there were only two managers to help out, and they both happened to be at the very ends of the table, slowly making their way down the row as if they have all the time in the world.

you looked back at her. “i’m sorry?” you said, trying to figure out what was going on, but she didn’t budge. “okay, okay, i’m not going to sign it.” you backed off, holding your other hand up in surrender.

“good. i don’t need your nasty hands on it either. give it back!” she snapped, snatching back the album as if she hadn’t been the one to place it in front of you. the noise garnered the attention of minghao, who looked at her before turning his head toward you.

he raised an eyebrow, confused, but you shook your head. nothing was wrong, just some weirdly aggressive hater. what was new?

then the girl, or gaeun now that you knew her name, all of the sudden lit up at the sudden glance from minghao. “ohh oppa~ there’s nothing to worry about! you look so handsome today~” she cooed.

you could see him try to keep a neutral facial expression as you held back laughter yourself. he nodded awkwardly before turning his attention back to the person in front of him. honestly, you were unsure of what to do now. the other fans you had come across before may not have liked you, but they at least let you sign their albums.

thankfully, there shouldn't be much time before the fans have to switch members, so you just kept yourself occupied by eavesdropping on the conversation vernon and the girl in front of him were having. clearly, yours didn't want anything to do with you.

"come on, entertain me, bitch."

your head snapped back at her, noticing the two members beside you do the same as you gave her a puzzled look. she didn't seem to notice them, though, fully focused on you.

"what are you just staring at me for? you can't do your one job? no wonder so many people hate-"

"don't. don't you dare say another word to her."

you turned toward the voice, quite shocked to find the owner of it to be vernon out of all people. he and minghao both glared at the girl, filling the room with silent tension.

by now, the timer had went off, meaning it was time to switch members, but the girl wouldn't move, causing a line of people to form to the side of her. the managers made their way toward her to stop the delay, and now most of the members' attention was on you and her.

"god, you're pathetic," she scoffed, ignoring vernon's warning and the amount of stares directed at her. she made a quick glance at the managers, and as some sort of 'last laugh' before she got kicked out of the venue, she chucked the album- straight at your face.

by some miracle, yet slow reflexes, you managed to avoid getting poked in the eye, taking a hit to the temple instead. it's quiet for a couple of seconds, then all chaos commences. fans were yelling, probably at the girl as the managers practically dragged her away, and the members started to stand up and crowd around you.

before she was fully dragged out, the girl mouthed something at you, but you really couldn’t make sense of it right now.

this hadn't happened recently, the last incident being when someone shoved an album at joshua a couple years ago. and since then, pledis had put out strict warning about it, so it was even more shocking that someone had done it again.

you turned away from the audience, attempting to conceal yourself as you shut your eyes at the pain that began to spread from your head. voices overlapped over one another until you felt someone pull you into a warm embrace, hands falling onto your ears.

finally, all the noise seemed to die down. you opened your eyes, curious as to who was holding you.

joshua smiled as you met his eyes; his hands fell to your shoulders.

“hey, it’s okay, they’re moving everyone out of the venue. we’re not going to finish the fan sign.” he explained assuringly, but the comment sort of made you embarrassed. maybe if you took care of the situation better, everyone wouldn’t have had to leave.

you were frustrated, upset, scared, all of the above. you hated that someone disliked you so much to the point that this would even happen. why did so many people have a problem with you, and only you?

but there was one thing bothering you the most, something that kept your heart racing. deciding that you didn't need everyone worrying about you again, you kept your mouth shut as the managers came back and announced that you all were done for the day.

but that night, you dreamt of it.

you were at the fan sign, living through all the moments again. the girl is dragged away as she mouths to you,

"next time, i won't miss."

you couldn't move, frozen in fear as she began to laugh hysterically.

"y/n? y/n, wake up."

seungcheol shook you awake, stepping back when you yelped. "it's okay, you were having a nightmare." he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking your hair. "what was it about?"

trying to move on from the conversation, you said that it was just about what had happened earlier, but he stopped you.

"you were saying something, though. you kept repeating 'no', y/n, did something else happen?"

oh, you had no idea that happened, and now you were stuck. taking your hesitance as an answer, he took your hand into his.

"y/n, you can tell me. i don't want you to be scared anymore, okay?"

you sighed, giving in and telling him about the threat the girl made. his eyebrows furrowed as you explained it. truly, there was nothing the two of you could do about it, and it made him frustrated.

"it's fine, though. it was a shallow threat anyway, i don't know why i was so scared."

"no, it's not fine," seungcheol argued, pulling you into a tight hug.

"i promise you, i won't let anything happen to you. never again."

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Little big spoon

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: ~1k

Summary: Lando is your little spoon.

⸻

Lando has never been the little spoon.

It’s not that he’s against it—he’s just always been the one pulling you close, the one wrapping you up in his arms after a long day. He likes it that way. It makes him feel like he’s protecting you, keeping you safe.

But tonight, you have other plans.

“Turn around,” you say, tugging lightly on his arm as you both settle into bed.

Lando blinks sleepily, looking over his shoulder at you. “Huh?”

“I want to be the big spoon,” you say matter-of-factly.

His brows furrow. “You what?”

You grin. “Come on, just try it.”

Lando scoffs. “I don’t know, love. I think I might be too big for this role.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. There’s no height requirement for being the little spoon.”

“I just don’t think I’m built for it.”

You laugh. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Still, he hesitates, his hand drumming lightly against your hip as he contemplates it. You know he’s stalling, trying to come up with a reason to say no without actually saying no. Lando is stubborn, but you know him better than anyone—he’s also a sucker for you.

So, you play dirty. You pout. “Just one night? For me?”

His whole body deflates instantly. “That’s unfair,” he mutters, already rolling onto his side to face away from you.

You grin, victorious, and immediately wrap yourself around him from behind. Your arms settle around his waist, pulling him close until his back is flush against your chest. He’s warm—so warm—and for a moment, he stays perfectly still.

“…This is weird,” he mumbles after a beat.

You hum, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’ll survive.”

He shifts slightly, as if testing out the position. At first, he’s tense, clearly not used to being held like this. But you let your fingers start tracing slow, lazy circles on his stomach, your hand splayed out gently against him, grounding him. He lets out a slow breath, melting just a little bit more.

A few moments pass in silence before he speaks again, voice softer this time.

“…Okay, this is actually kinda nice.”

You smile, resting your head between his shoulder blades. “Told you.”

Another beat of silence. Then, in an even quieter voice, he adds, “Feels… safe.”

Your heart swells.

“Good,” you murmur, hugging him a little tighter. “That’s kind of the point.”

Lando doesn’t say anything else, but the way he relaxes into you says more than words ever could. His fingers lazily find yours where they rest against his stomach, tracing little patterns over your knuckles before his hand stills completely. His breathing evens out, slow and steady, and you realize—he’s already falling asleep.

You grin against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the back of his neck.

Lando shifts slightly in your hold, letting out a sleepy hum as he presses back against you. You smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth of him, the way he fits so perfectly against you despite all his earlier protests.

“You’re really settling into this, huh?” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando lets out a tired chuckle. “Maybe,” he admits, his fingers absentmindedly playing with yours where they rest against his stomach. “Not saying I love it yet, but…” He sighs, utterly content. “I can see the appeal.”

You press your face into his back, laughing softly. “You’re such a liar. You love it.”

“Shhh,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep. “Let me have my moment.”

You roll your eyes but let him be. The room falls into a comfortable silence, the kind that feels natural and warm, where neither of you needs to fill the space with words. Your fingers continue their slow, absentminded patterns on his stomach, and every now and then, you feel the smallest of shivers run through him.

“Hey,” Lando mumbles after a while, his voice groggy. “Promise we can do this again?”

Your heart swells. “I thought you weren’t sure if you liked it?”

He shifts slightly, one of his hands coming up to loosely rest on your arm, keeping you close. “Shut up,” he mutters, half-asleep now. “Just promise.”

You smile against his skin, hugging him just a little tighter. “I promise.”

Lando hums in satisfaction, already drifting off completely.

Lando sleeps soundly in your arms, his breathing slow and steady, his body fully relaxed against yours. It’s a rare sight—he’s usually the type to toss and turn, mumble in his sleep, or wake up at odd hours. But tonight, he’s still, completely at ease, like he’s been the little spoon his whole life and just never realized it.

You can’t help but smile, running your fingers lightly up and down his arm. “So much for ‘not being built for this,’” you whisper playfully, even though he’s too far gone to hear you.

A few minutes pass, and you start feeling yourself drift too, lulled by the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing. But then, Lando stirs slightly, shifting in your hold. For a second, you think he’s waking up, but instead, he just presses back into you even more, like he’s making sure you’re still there.

“Mm… stay,” he mumbles groggily.

You chuckle softly, tightening your arms around him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighs, his fingers sleepily brushing over yours where they rest against his stomach. “Good.”

And just like that, he’s gone again, sinking even deeper into sleep.

You stay awake a little while longer, just enjoying the feeling of holding him like this. Lando has always been the type to take care of others—to be the strong one, the comforting presence. But right now, in this quiet moment, he’s letting you take care of him, and it feels… perfect.

As sleep finally starts to pull you under, you press one last soft kiss to the back of his neck and whisper, “Told you you’d love it.”

Lando doesn’t respond—he’s already too deep in his dreams—but the small, content smile on his face tells you everything you need to know.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

[skiesuconn]

all the ways i stay

paige bueckers & azzi fudd യ notes: it took me a while to find satisfaction with this, but i’ve finally settled on it. i figured i’d jot something down quickly while i work on chapter 3 of the argent. fic. it’s still in the making, but trust me, it’ll be worth the wait. in the meantime, i hope you enjoy this quick blurb i had in mind. also, i highly recommend playing the song mentioned later on—it really brings the moment to life. happy reading, lovelies.

paige never thought she’d be sitting through a rom-com marathon with azzi, yet here they were, limbs tangled on the couch, a half-empty popcorn bowl wedged between them. the air smelled like butter and whatever candle azzi had burning—something warm, vanilla, a little too cozy for a night where paige had fully intended to roast every movie choice.

but azzi was taking this seriously. too seriously.

the notebook had been playing for all of five minutes, and already, azzi was watching like it was a high-stakes thriller, arms crossed, one perfectly manicured hand occasionally reaching up to twist a curl between her fingers. paige, meanwhile, was sprawled out, one socked foot nudging azzi’s thigh, head tipped back against the armrest like she was suffering.

“this is the dumbest shit i’ve ever seen,” paige muttered, watching ryan gosling pull off some grand romantic gesture. “like, imagine a guy hanging off a ferris wheel, threatening to let go unless you agree to a date. that’s not romance, that’s blackmail.”

“he’s being dramatic. it’s supposed to be sweet,” azzi countered, eyes still locked on the screen.

paige huffed a laugh, shifting so her shoulder knocked against azzi’s. “oh, so if i dangle off a balcony and demand you take me to chipotle, that’s sweet? good to know.”

“you wouldn’t last five seconds. your upper body strength is—” azzi let her gaze flick down to paige’s arms, the definition obvious even under her hoodie. she cleared her throat. “never mind.”

paige smirked. “oh no, finish that thought, princess.”

“no.”

paige, who lived for this kind of thing, propped herself up on one elbow, getting close enough that azzi’s perfume curled around her senses. she smelled expensive, like warm florals and a hint of something soft, maybe honey. she should be paying attention to the movie, but instead, she was studying the way azzi’s lashes brushed her cheek when she blinked, the exact shade of brown in her eyes. totally normal. not a problem at all.

“admit it,” paige drawled. “you just got distracted by the guns.”

“i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“i do. i hate you so much.” but azzi’s mouth twitched, and her hand, traitorous thing that it was, had found its way to paige’s wrist, fingers pressing absentmindedly into the skin there.

paige noticed, but didn’t comment. instead, she shifted again, nestling further into azzi’s space like she had every right to be there. “okay, but you have to admit this movie is trash. a seven-year breakup over a letter she never got? and then she gets engaged to some other dude just for funsies?”

“it’s about fate.”

“it’s about bad communication.”

“well, not everyone’s an oversharer like you.”

paige grinned. “first of all, rude. second of all, if you ever fell in love with me and wrote me letters for a year, i’d totally read them.”

“good to know,” azzi said dryly, but her fingers curled slightly around paige’s wrist, like she was holding on without thinking about it.

paige caught it this time. dragged her thumb over the inside of azzi’s wrist, slow, lazy. “you’re holding my hand, princess.”

“no, i’m not.”

paige laced their fingers together, making it undeniable. “yeah, you are.”

azzi let out a long, suffering sigh, but didn’t pull away. instead, she rested her head against paige’s shoulder, like it was easier than fighting whatever this was.

“shut up and watch the movie.”

paige smirked. “yes, ma’am.”

azzi groaned. “don’t call me that.”

“whatever you say, sweetheart.” paige turned her head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to azzi’s temple. it was casual, effortless, like second nature. azzi’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move. didn’t push paige away.

paige still thought the movie was ridiculous, but if it meant getting to sit like this, wrapped up in azzi’s space, maybe rom-coms weren’t so bad after all.

paige stretches out on the couch, head sinking into azzi’s lap like she owns the place. which, technically, she does. well—half of it, at least.

"story: five out of ten," paige announces, dragging a lazy hand through the air. "sure, it's the usual love story. boy meets girl, they fight, they make up, they cry… whatever."

azzi snorts, idly combing her fingers through paige's hair. "so poetic."

paige tilts her head up, grinning. "what can i say? i have a way with words."

"yeah," azzi deadpans. "like a drunk guy at karaoke."

paige gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. "wow. that was personal."

azzi hums, twisting a strand of blonde between her fingers before flicking it back into place. "well, i’d give it an eight."

paige jerks up like azzi just said something blasphemous. "eight? for that?"

"it's a classic." azzi shrugs, like that explains everything.

paige squints. "so is canned tuna, but you don't see me crying over it."

"maybe because you have the emotional depth of a teaspoon," azzi muses, lips twitching.

"okay, rude." paige flops back down, arms crossed. "also, i think we’re ignoring the real issue here. you, azzi fudd, are a rom-com crybaby."

"i am not."

paige smirks. "oh, really? then explain why you sobbed over that one scene in 10 Things I Hate About You last week?"

"because heath ledger was singing in the bleachers, and that’s a valid reason!"

paige hums, tapping her chin. "mm. i dunno. seems a little wimpy to me."

"i'm emotionally intelligent," azzi corrects, flicking paige’s forehead.

"mm. tomato, tomahto." paige closes her eyes, perfectly at peace, until—

"you know," azzi starts, voice all sweet and innocent, which immediately puts paige on edge, "when we're old, you’ll be the one looking for your eye contacts only to realize you’ve had glasses on this whole time."

paige's eyes snap open. "excuse me?"

"just saying." azzi grins, all dimples and mischief. "you give off that energy."

paige sits up, pretending to be offended. "i do not give off ‘losing my own glasses while they're on my face’ energy."

"you so do," azzi counters, biting back a laugh.

"i'm literally the most capable person you know."

azzi raises an eyebrow. "paige, last week you spent ten minutes looking for your phone while you were on a call."

paige squints. "…that proves nothing."

"and two days ago, you left your car keys in the fridge."

paige huffs. "that was one time."

"mm-hmm." azzi pats her cheek, eyes sparkling. "sure, babe."

paige flops back down, grumbling, but as azzi goes back to running her fingers through her hair, she lets the thought settle.

growing old with azzi.

being with her through all the ridiculous, mundane, beautiful little moments life throws their way.

paige isn't sentimental. not really. but the idea sticks, burrows into her chest in a way she can’t shake.

she smacks azzi’s thigh, lightly. "you're annoying."

azzi just laughs, warm and soft, and yeah—paige thinks—maybe she wouldn't mind losing her glasses if it means azzi’s the one to find them for her.

the room still smells like buttered popcorn and the faintest hint of azzi’s vanilla-scented lotion. the air’s a little stuffy from them being curled up on the couch for hours, so paige cracks a window while azzi smooths out the blankets, fluffing the pillows back into place.

"teamwork makes the dream work," paige announces, dramatically tossing a handful of snack bags into the trash like she’s steph curry sinking a three.

except—

clunk. one of them bounces off the rim and lands just outside the bin.

"except when you miss." azzi deadpans.

paige squints. "i meant to do that."

"mm-hmm." azzi picks up the stray bag, dropping it in as paige gathers up the cups. she takes a final glance around, making sure everything's set for the next movie marathon.

when she's satisfied, she turns to paige, a little smirk playing at her lips. "good job, partner."

paige barely has time to process before azzi leans in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to her lips. it’s barely a second, but it’s enough to make paige's brain short-circuit.

"oh." paige blinks, a slow grin creeping onto her face. "so i get kisses for cleaning? noted."

"don't push it." azzi nudges her toward the kitchen, but there’s no real bite to it.

paige busies herself grabbing the cupcake cups while azzi starts setting out ingredients. she fills a few with nuts—strictly for herself, since azzi's allergic and she’d rather not spend the night in the er. then she loads up the rest with fruit, especially kiwi, because azzi swears it tastes like happiness. she adds pineapple and strawberries too, then tosses in some dark chocolate and a generous amount of gummy bears.

azzi watches, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. "so… you’re just making a personal charcuterie board of sweets?"

paige shrugs. "some of us like variety."

azzi snorts. "some of us just like sugar."

"pot, meet kettle." paige gestures at the chocolate chips azzi’s been sneakily snacking on.

azzi flicks a marshmallow at her, and paige, never one to back down from a challenge, pops it into her mouth midair with a smug look.

"show-off," azzi mutters, but her lips twitch like she’s trying not to laugh.

they settle into a rhythm, prepping ingredients for the ultimate snack session. paige, of course, insists on making s’mores, because what’s a cozy night without them?

azzi leans against the counter, watching paige work, arms brushing every so often. the night is easy, familiar, filled with little moments like this—bickering over snacks, stolen kisses, the kind of comfortable chaos that only comes with knowing someone like the back of your hand.

and honestly? paige wouldn’t trade it for anything.

azzi pads over to the kitchen, where stewie is curled up in his usual spot, breathing slow and steady. he looks peaceful, like he doesn’t have a single thought in that fluffy little head of his.

she crouches down, rubbing his ears, voice soft. "he’s literally perfect."

"mhmm." paige barely glances up, focused on skewering a marshmallow.

"paige, look at him," azzi insists.

paige, still hunched over the stove, murmurs, "kinda busy making s’moresess right now."

azzi squints. "s’moresess?"

"shhh." paige waves a hand, half-heartedly. "it’s a process."

azzi shakes her head, muttering something about her girlfriend being a lost cause, and moves behind paige, arms slipping around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder.

paige stiffens slightly but doesn’t stop what she’s doing—at least, not until azzi exhales slow and warm against the shell of her ear.

paige’s brain? fried.

her grip on the skewer slips, and the marshmallow nearly meets a fiery demise.

"azzi." her voice comes out a little strangled.

"what?" azzi hums, feigning innocence as she straightens up, leaving paige standing there like a malfunctioning robot.

"you—" paige exhales sharply through her nose. "you almost made me burn the s’more."

"tragedy," azzi deadpans, already moving toward the kettle.

paige glares, but it’s weak at best. instead, she focuses on plating everything while azzi makes herself a cup of tea and grabs some coconut water.

the dorm is spotless, the only sound the occasional clink of dishes and the low hum of the kettle. the candles caroline gifted azzi flicker gently, their scents—vanilla and lavender—mixing in the air, making the whole space feel warm, intimate.

it’s just them. no distractions.

azzi leans against the counter, stirring her tea, watching paige with something unreadable in her eyes.

paige, finally done, turns to face her, a cocky little grin playing at her lips. "so, did you come over here just to sabotage my s’mores, or…?"

azzi takes a slow sip of her tea, gaze steady. "maybe."

paige squints. "that’s evil."

"you love it."

paige sighs, defeated, but she can’t hide the way her smile softens just a little.

azzi kneels beside stewie, fingers ghosting over his soft fur, careful not to wake him. his little chest rises and falls in the slow rhythm of deep sleep, curled up on his uconn-themed dog bed—matching blanket and all. of course azzi had to go all out. paige swears this dog has more school spirit than half the team.

paige finishes up in the kitchen, setting the last plate down before making her way over, dropping onto the floor beside azzi. but while azzi’s watching stewie, paige is watching her.

azzi looks peaceful, more than she has in weeks. this semester drained the hell out of her—paige saw it firsthand, the late nights, the stress, the way azzi pushed herself through it all. and yet, right now, in this tiny little moment, she’s soft, calm, just existing.

paige leans back on her palms, studying her, a quiet sort of pride settling in her chest. that’s her girl. the girl she had all her firsts with.

and tonight? well, she’s about to have another first with her.

azzi really should stop making paige feel like her heart's a metronome—this can't be normal.

paige’s thoughts swirl for a second as she watches azzi, completely unaware of the storm brewing in paige’s head. “if Azzi asked me to climb a mountain right now, i'd probably do it just to see her smile. how much do I need to pay for her to stop being this cute?”

“this is why I’m not allowed near dogs,” paige thinks, watching stewie snooze. "one pet and suddenly I'm invested in a team of athletes who can't even talk."

azzi shifts, catching paige’s gaze. there’s that smile again—the kind that makes paige feel like the world stops for just a second. “Not that I mind,” she thinks, "but damn, this girl has me wrapped around her finger."

and honestly? paige is okay with it.

they’re talking about nothing and everything all at once, voices low, lazy, like the world outside doesn’t exist. sitting cross-legged on the floor, the snacks long forgotten, azzi’s hand moves in slow circles over stewie’s ear, careful not to wake him.

paige, propped up on one elbow, watches her with that look—soft, amused, completely gone. azzi catches it, and for a second, wonders if she needs to take notes because damn, paige's stare is next level.

azzi meets her gaze, smiles, something quiet passing between them.

paige leans in first, and azzi follows, her free hand slipping to paige’s side, fingers pressing just enough to ground them both. she smiles into the kiss before it deepens, slow and sure, like every time they kiss, it means something more. because it does. because it always does.

when they pull back, paige, still close enough that azzi can feel her breath, grins.

“hey az,” she murmurs, voice teasing. “remember that night a few years back when we slow danced on the porch and i stepped on your feet like… fifteen times?”

"of course i do, paige," azzi says, voice soft but sure. "that memory’s engraved in my brain."

she remembers everything—the exact date, the thick warmth of summer, the way the night unfolded like a scene straight out of one of her movies. “And honestly? The embarrassing foot stomping was just part of the charm,” she thinks. the way it led them here, to something that feels eerily similar to what’s about to unravel.

paige raises a brow. "woah, was i really that bad?"

azzi grins, playing with paige’s fingers absentmindedly. "kind of."

paige groans, leaning her head back dramatically. "well, i was nervous, okay? i was dancing with the girl of my dreams."

azzi snorts. "oh yeah?"

"yeah," paige says, eyes locked on hers now. "you were wearing your mom’s pearls that day. that dress i thought was pretty on you, though—let’s be real—all of them were. swear, you could wear a trash bag and i’d still go crazy." she shrugs, lips twitching. "doesn’t even matter what you wear. you are your outfit. if that makes sense."

azzi flushes, her smile growing. she tugs paige closer by her hoodie, pressing their lips together. paige grins into it, hands finding azzi’s waist as the kiss deepens.

when they break apart, azzi hums, eyes playful. "i think the romance movies really got to you, huh?"

paige scoffs. "hey, i’m not the one who wants to watch them."

"that’s true."

"but i wasn’t finished with my little speech, actually," paige adds, tilting her head.

azzi rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. "oh? go on, then."

paige squeezes her fingers, something shifting in her expression—something softer, something certain. "wanna dance?"

azzi’s face lights up instantly. "right here? right now?"

paige nods. "right here. right now."

“Oh god, we’re doing this,” azzi thinks, trying not to grin like an absolute fool.

without hesitation, azzi takes her hand. paige, playing the gentleman, offers it with a dramatic flair, one hand behind her back like she’s in some old-timey movie. “Oh yeah, I’m totally swooning now,” azzi thinks, trying to keep her cool. azzi laughs, but she takes it.

they step into the open space in the kitchen, the only sound the faint hum of the fridge. the soft glow of candlelight flickers against the walls, filling the room with something unspoken. something warm. something that feels like them.

as they settle in, azzi tilts her head. "are we doing a silent slow dance, paige?"

paige blinks. "my bad." she pulls out her phone, scrolling for a second before pressing play. the soft, melancholic notes of my love mine all mine by mitski fill the air.

azzi raises a brow. "since when do you know this song?"

paige smirks. "since sarah put me on."

azzi laughs, shaking her head. as the first seconds of the song settle over them, paige—who’s just a little taller—takes azzi’s hands. azzi sighs, already knowing how this is going to go. "please don’t step on my feet."

paige grins. "can’t promise that."

azzi smiles, and they fall into place like they always do. her head finds paige’s shoulder, her hands finding her waist, and paige isn't forcing a thing. they just fit. like they were made to be here, in this moment, like this.

the song is calm, and so are they, just swaying together. the stillness, the trust, the years of knowing each other—it all settles between them like a quiet understanding. azzi closes her eyes, memorizing every movement, the way their breaths sync, the way their heartbeats seem to fall into rhythm.

paige looks down at her, eyes soft, full of something deeper than words. she presses a gentle kiss to azzi’s head and whispers, "i love you more than you’ll ever know."

azzi lifts her gaze, the candlelight flickering in her eyes. "i love you more than i ever thought i could love anybody."

paige swallows. their bodies are so close, and as the second verse starts, azzi wraps her arms around paige’s neck, resting her chin on her shoulder. her curls brush against paige’s face, tickling her cheek.

"you can put your feet on mine," paige murmurs. "i’ll lift you with ease."

azzi snorts. "you’re ridiculous."

"and yet, here you are, playing into it," paige teases.

but azzi does it, stepping onto paige’s feet, letting her take the lead. it’s ridiculous, yeah, but it’s them.

paige smiles, eyes slipping shut, and this time, azzi’s the one watching her. with nothing but love.

she presses a soft kiss to paige’s cheek, and paige’s lips curl into that cocky smile—the one that always makes azzi feel something she can't quite name.

the way paige’s whole face lights up just from being near her… that’s the kind of love scientists should be writing articles about.

as the song fades out, azzi’s fingers trace lazy circles on paige’s back. they haven’t moved, still molded into each other, warm from the dance, from the love they just shared. they were always meant for this moment.

"can we just stay like this forever?" azzi murmurs.

paige chuckles, looking down at her, at the soft smile on azzi’s face. "and who’s gonna break ankles if we do?"

"kamorea can handle that," azzi says, completely serious.

paige laughs, shaking her head. as azzi pulls her hands back, she really looks at paige. paige is holding her hands now, thumb brushing over her skin, absentmindedly tracing small circles—no, actually tracing azzi’s name on the back of her hand.

azzi bites her lip. "gotta say, you improved. you didn’t step on my foot once."

paige nods, all cocky. what azzi doesn’t know is that paige spent her free time watching dance tutorials. even asked tim—azzi’s father—for tips.

"thank you," paige smirks. "i’m a natural."

azzi scoffs. "sure."

"should we go back to the movies?" azzi asks.

paige stretches. "yeah, just gimme a sec. gotta use the bathroom."

"okay." azzi leans in, pressing a quick kiss to paige’s cheek before heading back to the room.

but paige doesn’t go to the bathroom. instead, she crouches by stewie’s bed, quietly filling his bowl with water, making sure he’s set for the night. she grabs a few dog treats and places them beside him, scratching behind his ear as she whispers—(keep in mind, it’s a dog):

"i’m gonna marry that pretty girl someday. i know you’re her #1, but i’m never gonna stop loving her."

stewie snores in response. paige grins, giving him one last pat before heading back.

when she walks in, azzi’s already curled up, waiting for her with a look of love and safety. paige jumps into bed, and azzi immediately rests her head on paige’s chest.

"let’s do frozen again," azzi mumbles.

paige laughs, pressing a kiss to azzi’s head. "i’m covering your eyes when olaf loses his head."

azzi gasps and smacks paige’s leg. "rude."

as the movie starts playing, the soft glow of the screen flickering against their faces, azzi reaches for a s’more, breaking off a piece for paige. she turns to her, eyes warm, lips curled into a soft smile.

“open,” she says, holding it up.

paige laughs, tilting her head back slightly, and obliges. azzi stuffs the piece in her mouth, giggling as paige tries to chew through the marshmallow, cracker, and chocolate all at once.

“i love you,” azzi murmurs, almost absentmindedly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. because it is.

paige, still chewing, looks at her with the kind of softness that makes azzi’s heart ache in the best way. she swallows, then leans in, brushing her nose against azzi’s.

“i’m right here,” paige whispers, voice thick with certainty, “not going anywhere. always gonna take care of you.”

azzi blinks, the words settling deep in her chest, something warm and overwhelming blooming inside her. she presses closer, burying herself into paige’s arms, where everything feels right.

paige holds her like she’s never letting go.

[hcneymooners]

౨ৎ stargirl interlude: chapter ii.

wnba!paige x pop star!azzi. men & minors dni.

⋆ 🪩 masterlist.

synopsis: azzi’s one of the industry’s fastest rising stars—a notorious ice princess. she doesn’t pay much attention to the internet, so she’s caught off guard when she finds out who her biggest fan is: world-class athlete paige bueckers, publicly losing her mind over her.

cw: implied mental health issues, fluff, first date, medium burn?, young girls rediscovering themselves and their desires, slight angst, mentions of faith.

notes: hi, my doves. let me know if you enjoyed this. sorry this is a little sad, but azzi is a product of childhood fame. love you. can't wait to see you in my inbox.

II: SECOND SKIN.

“i’d like to work on something different. something that feels more like me.”

azzi watched as her manager’s brow rose, sensed her mother's gaze boring holes deep into her skin. she steadfastly ignored them, focusing instead on the condensation dripping down the plastic body of her iced blueberry matcha. 

the head of the label sat across from her. he was a stout man with a pinched face. it always looked as though he was struggling to breathe. he was kind though, had seen many a pop legend come and go, and seemed to have a soft spot for her ideas, usually called silly, when she presented them to katie on the car ride home.

“you don’t feel any connection to what you’re doing now?” he asked her, and azzi blinked back into the moment.  

“i think i did at some point but,” azzi pursed her lips, then let out a flow of air, “i’m not feeling myself in any of it. i look at the lyrics and open my mouth and nothing comes out. at least nothing i’m proud of.”

the man sat back, green eyes unnervingly bright. she focused on the liver spot that pulled across his neck, mind running as she tried to remember his name. it was something rather clandestine. micheal? murray? 

“what do you feel yourself in?”

azzi looked up from beneath her lashes, her cheeks haloed by her unbrushed curls. she was only in a midi black dress, the straps thick and the neckline square. along her collarbones lay a thin diamond chain with a silver, cursive ‘a’ pendant that swung forward every time she readjusted herself. her feet were encased in faux-leather flats, the small, needlework rosary tattoo she’d gotten on a whim dark and visible.

“i’ve been listening to a lot of indie rock. red hot chili peppers, smashing pumpkins, the teenagers. i like the way i feel when i listen. there’s more room in the writing to sing about what i’m going through, big or small. i’m—” she hesitated. “i’m tired of being a sexy baby.”

“indie rock, huh?” the man said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “i didn’t think kids knew of red hot chili peppers these days.”

azzi smiled, her two front teeth shining white and new. her mother, who had been holding on for a rather impressive amount of time, finally gave her input.

“but she’s not a rockstar, max! she’s a pop star.”

oh, so his name was max. yes, very clandestine. max rolled his neck over to one side as he glanced irritably at katie, his jaw working before he responded. 

“i get that, katie, i really do.” azzi tried not to laugh and took a sip of her matcha. “but reinvention is how these girls stay alive in this world. azzi’s right. people are not looking for the sexy baby thing right now. i mean there’s always an audience, but azzi’s demographic has grown with her. and if she wants her growth to be noticeable, i think it's smart to play up a different image other than discovering that you have a body and desires for the first time.” 

huh, azzi thought. go, max.

he looked back at her, eyed her drink. “need another?’

“sure,” azzi said, her voice quiet but her resolve strong. 

they got up. they took a walk.

⟡

azzi pushed three thick sprays of salt water through the nozzle and into the back of her throat, her nose burning as california brine coated the muscles. then she texted paige. 

» hey, paige. just wanted to touch base about getting coffee this week.

her arms burned when she pressed the meat of them into the metal strings of her bass guitar. she shined it earlier and its teal corpse stared at her, reflecting a distorted image of her face as it begged her to touch it—to raise it from the dead. she felt the feeble spirit of her thirteen-year-old self in the marrow of the instrument, and she focused she could hear her too.  

she hated the message once she sent it. she sounded so out of touch with what it meant to be a young girl, a cool girl. while she waited for paige’s response, her eyes roved over the other girl’s instagram. she cataloged what she knew of her already: she was twenty-five, two years to azzi’s twenty-three, and a well-loved prodigy. she frequented texas, dallas to be specific, due to her current contract. she flew back and forth to new york, apparently helping to coach teenage athletes in her spare time. 

azzi liked that, that the goodness of her heart gave her a reason to plant her feet on new york’s rat-run ground. azzi sometimes worried that she wasn’t good, not even a little bit. 

she lingered on a candid of paige in the pews of a church, the light streaming in through the thin stained glass adorning her with mock sainthood. azzi wondered if it would matter to paige that god tended to put a frog in her throat, that she had removed his hands from around her neck and thighs and was trying to sit next to him without flinching on most days. maybe they would never get there. 

» hey, azzi. yeah, i’m still good for coffee. 

azzi smiled. i wonder if you know how good you make me feel, she thought and then was immediately embarrassed. 

» that’s really good to hear. 

she paused, then sent another message. 

» sorry about saying “touch base”. it was weird.

the response was swift.

» nah, it wasn’t. 

azzi wondered if she should leave it alone, but if she was going to coffee she may as well ensure it wasn’t too awkward. she raised her arms, ignoring the indentations in her skin, and snapped a picture of her guitar. the steel of its strings gleamed; the teal paint seemed to cry. you could see her shadow reach across it. her leg was bent, but visible—tender from her weight being shifted across it for several hours.

» trying to learn how to use her again » going a new direction with my music and i’m kind of really scared 

too honest, she berated herself. paige didn’t seem to think so.

(paige didn’t think so at all. her crystal blue eyes had fallen on the reddened skin of azzi’s knee, on the thin strip of darkness made by the bend of azzi’s leg and the crush of her thigh. her mouth watered, and she redid her ponytail to regain some self-control.)

» u have a voice like an angel, azzi. some things are just meant to be. 

» God knew what He was doing. 

she capitalized God, azzi noted. her mouth twitched into a smile. she liked that. it was a good detail.

» i’m not that religious, but since you are i guess you would know. » sorry that sounded mean, but i don’t mind it. your faith, i mean. please don’t feel bad.

a moment passed and then,

» i don’t know, i just trust. » and i didn’t feel bad. ur not a mean girl. 

azzi laughed out loud then. 

» it’s my desire to know vs my desire to trust, she said.  » see you tomorrow, paige

her phone buzzed one last time. 

» can’t wait. i’ll be looking for u. 

azzi took a deep breath and closed her eyes. she thought hard of california, saw her father in the waves with a hand around her arm—the bone thick with baby fat. she heard something, someone. 

she touched a string. it sang.

⟡

the morning light came in sharp, cutting the shop into bright angles and long shadows. the windows were too clean, the floor polished to a dull shine. it smelled like scorched milk and antiseptic, something artificial masking something else. the kind of place people pretended to not mind, with its ten-dollar oat lattes and plastic baristas. the kind of place azzi used to think she liked.

she had dressed without thinking—well, no. she had thought about it quite a bit, but it was a good fantasy.

a strapless smocked top, tight across her ribs, the fabric shifting when she moved. faded jeans, loose at the hip, cinched with an old leather belt. they slouched low, soft, and worn in the way vintage denim should be, brushing against the tops of her boots. she carried her jacket in one hand, twisted around her fingers like an afterthought. her hair, loose from whatever styling had held it the other morning, fell in soft, uneven spirals. she’d drawn up the top with brown butterfly clips to prevent it from getting into her eyes. 

she looked like someone caught between selves. not quite undone, but close.

her fingers traced the rim of her mug, nails chipped down to uneven edges. the heat of the ceramic barely registered. paige was watching her. not in the way people usually did—calculating, expectant—but with a slow heat closer to patience. like she was trying to understand something. azzi often felt like a ghost within her own body, but now, someone was gazing at her,  not through her.

paige sat with her legs apart, elbows resting on her thighs. it was the kind of posture that helped make her look present without seeming too comfortable. the light made a halo of her, just for a second.

she wore a white, slightly oversized button-down, sleeves rolled up just once—as she did it absentmindedly, not for style. the fabric looked soft; it seemed the kind that came off better the more it was worn. beneath that: dark wash straight-leg jeans, fitted enough to hint at her strength but relaxed to a degree that spoke to her disinterest in the semantics of fashion. they fell heavy at the hem, half-swallowing her vintage nike cortez sneakers. a simple chain encircled her neck, barely noticeable except when the light caught it. a cross, just simple metal.

the image instilled a sense of wonder in azzi. she wanted to ask about it, if it meant anything.

paige grimaced, picking up her vanilla latte with two shots of espresso. "twelve fucking dollars?" she muttered. "for this?"

azzi watched her, something soft developing in her chest. she slightly recognized this feeling. it was like rediscovering a language she'd forgotten she knew how to speak. it began to bleed through her, raw and unfiltered. she worried that it would stain her shirt.

"so," paige said, her voice slipping through the lo-fi hum of someone’s terrible 2010-esque playlist, "tell me something."

azzi blinked. the overhead lights buzzed, too bright, catching on the fine gold chain around her throat. her small scorpio pendant shifted when she swallowed. 

“um, let’s see. i'm twenty-three," azzi started, her words falling into a practiced rhythm. "born in virginia, but lived in california for a while. i miss it there. uh, oh. my favorite color is pink. i have a birthmark shaped like texas on my left hip.” 

paige took another swig of coffee and then looked her dead in the eye. she raised an eyebrow. "you giving me teen beat facts?"

azzi suppressed a smile. she shrugged.

paige leaned in, elbows on the table, hands loose but steady.

"something that doesn’t exist in a press release." a pause. "give me the real you, please."

the words settled between them. the moment stretched, thin and expectant. something about it made azzi want to look away.

she didn’t.

“um,” her voice was quieter now, “i’m terrified of spiders, but i don’t ever want to kill them. i’m allergic to fake gold, and my ears swelled when i got them pierced as a toddler. i can’t cook or bake, but i have a good eye for presentation. i haven’t really written or performed anything i’ve liked in over two years.”

the last bit took her by surprise, but paige’s eyes only softened. she leaned back and swallowed down the remnants of her drink. she put it down and tilted her head, her blonde hair shifting with the movement. her mouth seemed electric as she spoke. 

“i want to take you somewhere. come with me?”

they ended up at a small ethiopian restaurant.

it was tucked between a laundromat and a convenience store, where the scent of berbere and spiced butter pulled at the air before the door even opened. inside, the walls were warm-toned, lined with woven baskets and paintings, the floor covered in persian rugs softened and faded by years of footsteps. it hummed with low chatter, the clink of metal trays, and the occasional burst of laughter from a group in the corner.

azzi looked around, a little mesmerized. "this is beautiful."

paige watched her, further endeared. "yeah."

they sat on the floor, low cushions pressed against their backs, a tray of injera and slow-cooked stews set between them. the place was packed, families and couples and groups of friends leaning close, tearing pieces of bread with practiced ease. 

it was intimate in a way that surprised azzi—hands reaching, sharing, dipping.  food was so respected here; the art of the meal and family so centered. she followed paige’s lead, watching her scoop a piece and fold it with practiced ease.

azzi’s first bite made her eyes widen, then flutter closed. "oh my god."

"right?" paige grinned, watching as azzi eagerly took another bite. it was so good, flavored in a way that stuck to your ribs. this was the kind of food you could taste long after you’d left the table.

they stayed like that, across from one another but intersecting as their hands met in the warm rivers of heavily spiced sauce and pots of yellow rice.

at some point, azzi got a bit of sauce on her chin, then her cheek, and paige, without thinking, swiped her thumb over it only to smear it across the bridge of her nose. azzi let out a startled laugh, brown eyes crinkling, and paige smirked.

"you missed a spot."

paige watched as azzi lifted her phone, angling the camera to capture the streak of sauce on her cheek, then her nose. she stuck out her tongue, crossing her eyes in one, then tilted her head slightly, lips parted to reveal her american girl teeth, a mess of curls cradling her face.

"these are so cute," she murmured, voice warm as she tapped through the shots. "i never get to have food on my face."

and it was clearly meant to be funny in an offhanded way, but then azzi’s face flickered—like she’d just realized something. a small thing, but a thing that felt bigger, heavier. her throat tightened, and she hurried to blame it on the spice, but she could tell that paige saw through it, saw the way her fingers flexed like she didn't know what to do with them.

under the table, paige found her hand. squeezed. then, casually, she tore another piece of injera, scooped up some stew, and lifted it to azzi’s full lips—the skin a deep pink and swollen by the flame of peppers.

"here, mama," she said, voice easy. "try this one."

azzi took the bite, chewed, and swallowed. she exhaled, slow. paige didn’t let go of her hand.

before they left, the owners took a polaroid for the wall of customers. azzi insisted they take two, so they could have their own. in the photo, azzi was mid-laugh, eyes bright, sauce still dotted on her nose. paige stood beside her, relaxed in a way she didn’t even realize, watching azzi like she had a secret within that she didn’t know yet.  like she always had.

they didn’t decide who would get to keep it officially, but it ended up in the back of azzi’s phone. a pale copy sat in paige’s gallery. azzi pocketed the second polaroid, running a thumb over the glossy surface. something shifted inside her, loose and warm. 

later, on the train home, she tucked her legs beneath her in the seat and hummed under her breath. a melody had given birth inside of her—new, half-formed, and fighting. words came to her unbidden, stale lyrics made better by the fact that she was trying again.

she murmured into her phone’s voice memo app. she held up the phone to paige’s mouth and asked her to speak. paige smiled, tender with joy, and protested that she didn’t know what to say.

“it’s not the real thing,” azzi assured her. “you can say anything.”

paige hummed and then,

“will you get another coffee with me?” 

azzi grinned, her body trembling. she lowered her feet to the floor and leaned over until her head fell onto paige’s shoulder. she picked up paige’s hand and turned it over so that the pale palm was open and exposed. she traced nine letters into the skin.

yes, please.

paige closed her hand and kept her there. 

azzi hummed from the station to her apartment. even the clink of her keys into their designated bowl seemed on-key. 

it was a song. her song. the first in a long time. she could’ve sobbed. 

thank god, she thought, that i remember how to sing.

⟡

voguescandinavia: azzi fudd has a new approach: “i want to keep going to places where i don’t know anyone or anything. i tend to find myself there.”

a black and white portrait accompanied the tweet. azzi's face was slightly turned, wind-blown wisps of her natural curls catching across her cheekbone. her expression was borderline intense, almost vulnerable—eyes looking slightly off-center, not quite meeting the camera.

she wore a simple white tank top, and her skin was slightly tanned, with shadows and bits of sand dusted along parts of her face. the background was indistinct, a blurred landscape suggesting openness, motion. her gaze penetrated.

it was silently understood that she wasn’t performing, but truly present.

the reception was overwhelmingly kind, warm. but only one mattered.

trending simple and proud:

pbueckersofficial: angel falls short but swear it’s her true form 🩶🎙️

on her private account, her heart to mouth filter had failed. the same picture, quote retweeted but with different wording: 

pbuckets5: i want to run away. make a world of just you and me. somewhere between the city lights and the way you breathe—i'm desperate to understand everything.

her teammates' immediately lit up her notifications.

karnold: girl what is happening  aubrey: wait what.   janaaa: oh. drewbuckets: paige poetry era??

azzi, almost half asleep, saw the public thread. smiled. then quote-tweeted:

azzi35: i'd like to stay on earth for another coffee with you 🕊️

the internet imploded. 

username: they actually hang out?!  username: paige bueckers and azzi fudd interacting again??? this is not a drill  uconnsports: we're witnessing history  ⤷ username: who is the intern running this page lmfao username: the way they're speaking about each other?? its giving legacy love story i fear karnold: y’all don’t you worry, we got somebody checking on paige cause she may actually be dead idk

and trending worldwide: #bueckersfudd2028.

⟡

azzi went to sleep. in her dreams there was a stage, but no microphone. azzi opened her mouth and extended a hand to the sole person in the audience. from her mouth burst three pink butterflies. 

teach me, they said with every pump of their wings. please, teach me.

the woman stood from her seat. her hair was so blonde it was almost white. she looked at azzi with her sharp blue gaze, touched her own throat, and then stepped forward to press into azzi’s skin. the heat from her fingertips spiraled up into azzi’s mouth until she felt so warm that she thought her bones might melt into ash and milk. 

the woman cupped her cheek. from her heart a beat; from her mouth a word. 

azzi, she said. her mouth was closed. God himself opened your mouth and placed music on your tongue.

azzi, she said. sing.

© hcneymooners.

[lesservillain]

congratulations on 2000 followers! 🍀

could i request baby daddy eddie with the smut prompt 22 ‘are you doing that on purpose?’

thank you so much you're so kind! hope you enjoy :)

join the 2k celebration!

cw: baby daddy!eddieverse (non canon compliant), unprotected piv (but he pulls out), reader testing eddie's resilience on purpose

wc: 2.5k (I am so sorry lol)

Eddie was sure he was going crazy. He was positive. There was no way you were wearing those little sundresses just for him. No way you were leaning forward or bending over in front of him to get his attention. You were just comfortable around him. Something that he was happy about after living together for a month and a half now. 

But, damn it if it wasn’t getting him riled up. He swears he saw a peak of your ass when you bent over in front of him to pick up Autumn’s toys in the living room. You had stretched out really far to grab something and the hem of your dress rode up to expose the curve of it, and he swears you lingered there long enough for him to get a good look on purpose. 

He gets it’s getting into the mid 80s, but did you have to wear a thong? He didn’t know how he could keep going on knowing what you had on under those dresses. The dresses that were so short they showed off your legs to him, making his mind wander into places that they shouldn’t as they disappeared into the flower printed fabric.

And don’t even get him started on the fact that you weren’t wearing bras around the trailer. There was little left to the imagination when he could see your hard nipples barely covered by the material covering them. Not to mention your tits were practically spilling out at all times and he could barely keep his eyes off of them. 

But Eddie kept his cool. He pretended that it didn’t bother him around you, only to beat off in the shower after a long day of suffering through you prancing around the house in front of him. Work was his only reprieve from the torture you were putting him through, because as soon as he came home to you plating the table in that short denim skirt, he was immediately getting hard.

After weeks of suffering through this, Eddie had finally reached his breaking point. The two of you had put Autumn to bed when you ran into the bedroom to get ready for bed. It was starting to stay hot at night and Eddie expected you to come out in a t-shirt and some sleep shorts like you normally do. But here you are, sitting next to him on the couch in nothing but a pair of skimpy underwear and one of his shirts.

”Sweetheart,” Eddie says, turning to face you on the couch. You look at him with wide eyes and give him a smile.

”What’s up?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, trying to keep his eyes off your exposed skin. ”Are you doing that on purpose?” He gestures at your legs and he watches the way they shift when he gives them attention. You tilt your head at him, a confused look on your face.

”Doing what?” You say with a giggle, seeming unsure of what he’s referring to.

”Are you…y’know, wearing that to get a reaction out of me?”

You look down at yourself then look back at him. “I’m sorry, does me wearing your shirt bother you?” You ask with genuine concern.

”No, not at all,” Eddie says waving his hands. “It’s not that you’re wearing my shirt. Well, it’s kinda that, but it’s not a bad thing.”

”I don’t understand, Eddie,” you say, shaking your head slowly.

”Ugh, I just…” Eddie takes a deep breath in before fully facing you. You mirror his actions, worry etched on your face. “Listen, I know it’s hot and all that, but I can’t…can’t help but notice the things you’ve been wearing around the house.” Eddie’s eyes are downcast, not feeling the courage to look you in the eyes as he confesses what he’s been feeling.

”What I’ve been wearing?” You ask, trying to get him to continue.

”Yeah, like the short dresses and the skirts…the low cut tops…no bra…” Eddie’s mind begins to wander as all of your outfits flash into his mind. He’s trying to will himself not to get hard in this moment, but it seems to be a losing battle.

”What about them? Do they bother you?”

”It’s not that they bother me in a bad way. More like…the exact opposite.” Eddie knows his face has to be red as he says these things to you. “And I guess I just got it in my head that you’re wearing these things on purpose, to try and get a rise out of me.”

The room is silent for a moment. Eddie doesn’t dare look at you, because he’s sure you’re about to laugh at him for making such a stupid assumption. Why did he think this was a good idea? He should have just kept his big mouth shut.

”Is it working?”

The tone of your voice has Eddie’s eyes snapping up to look at you. You’ve got a devilish look on your face that makes Eddie feel like he could melt into the cushion of the couch right now.

”W-what?” Eddie stutters out, not sure if he heard you right.

”I said is it working?” You repeat, leaning forward into his personal space. Oh god, what’s happening?

”Are you being serious right now?” Eddie doesn’t want to mistake this for something it’s not. The last thing he needs is to make you uncomfortable and have you leaving him.

But when you start to climb on top of him, he starts to think maybe he was right all along.

”As serious as a heart attack,” you say, your eyes on his lips as you inch your face closer to his. Eddie feels his heart skip a beat when you brush your lips against his, subconsciously leaning forward to chase after them. You didn’t resist as his lips met yours, slowly moving them against his in a passionate kiss. Eddie swears he sees sparks every time he gets to kiss you and this time is no different.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pushing your body against his as the kiss picks up, getting more heated with every passing second. Eddie is impossibly hard in his jeans right now and all you’ve done is kiss him, but in this moment he doesn’t even care. He doesn’t even care if this kiss doesn’t go anywhere, he’s just happy to have this with you right now, his dick be damned.

But you seemed to have other plans as you lower yourself into his lap, fully seating yourself against the tent in his pants. Eddie lets out a low moan as you start to rock your hips over him, the friction feeling so good that he can’t help but grab your hips and keep you moving over him. The feeling of your soft, bare skin in his hands was enough to drive him crazy. 

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suddenly ask, pulling away from him. The sultry look on your face was enough to do Eddie in, and he wasted no time wrapping his arms around your legs and lifting you up on the couch. You let out a giggly squeal as he picked you up, your grip around his neck tightening as he carried you into your shared bedroom.

Eddie playfully tossed you into the bed, eliciting a laugh from you as you bounced on the mattress. You beckoned him with grabby hands and he obliged you by crawling over your frame on the bed. Grabbing his collar, you pulled him into another kiss that made Eddie’s head spin. It makes him feel brave enough to let his hand slip under the hem of your shirt, gliding over the expanse of your soft stomach until he reaches your chest. You must like this, because you gasp against his mouth as he begins to fondle your breast in his big hands.

Suddenly, your hands leave his shirt and make their way lower until you’re at the button of his jeans. You pop it open with little resistance, the old zipper coming undone on its own from the pressure of how hard he was straining against them. With little warning, you slipped your hand into his boxers and grabbed at his length, making Eddie’s breath hitch from the contact. Eddie retracted his hand from your chest to help you pull his pants down enough that you could release his cock from its confines. 

You immediately start to stroke him, moving your hand up and down his aching length. The way you rolled your hand over his tip had his brain going dumb, turning him into putty in your grasp. “Shit,” he breathes out, looking down to watch you work him. And when you stop he wants to whine out like a pathetic dog. But his complaints die on his tongue when he watches your hands reach down for your panties and pull them down. He sees the little wet patch in the crotch and starts to salivate. Would you let him eat you out again like last time?

He got his answer in the needy way you called his name. You looked at him with lidded eyes and Eddie was a goner, ready to give you whatever you wanted. “Please,” you beg, grabbing for him again. “Need you.”

“Awe, you poor thing,” Eddie cooes at you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you pout, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, you better hurry up and get to it before I change my mind.” Eddie took that threat very seriously. He moved himself until he was situated between your legs, staring at your exposed center as you opened up for him. He goes to line himself with your entrance when you put a hand against his chest to stop him.

”Not to ruin the mood, but do you have a condom?” Eddie blinks at you, sweat forming in his hairline.

”N-no,” he says, brows coming together. He didn’t think this was going to happen again so he never went out and got any, even after your last encounter. He won’t be mad if you decide to call it since he doesn’t, but he really hopes that you don’t.

”Ugh, okay,” you say defeated, and Eddie feels all the excitement drain from his body. “Just make sure you pull out this time.” Eddie’s ears perk up at this and he gives you a harsh nod, accepting your request.

”Yes ma’am,” he says, giving you a salute. You roll your eyes at him, but can’t stop yourself from smiling. 

Eddie lines himself up again and starts to push himself inside of you. Your head falls back as he pushes further in, only stopping once he’s fully inside. Eddie’s not faring much better than you, the way your cunt is squeezing him feels like heaven on his cock. He gives you a second to adjust after having no prep before he starts moving, not wanting to hurt you.

”God, you’re so big Eddie,” you breathe out, and the words go straight to his cock. He starts to rock his hips back and forth, starting slow at first until he gets a good pace going. Your moans are music to Eddie’s ears, only egging him on. 

“Harder.” Your words are strained, driving Eddie crazy to hear you beg like this. He leans forward, caging you between his arms as he gets into a better position to really fuck you. His hips smack against you as he delivers harsh thrusts into you, his cock hitting you deep inside.

His name leaves your lips in a series of chants intermingled with curses and calls to the lord. Eddie should be trying to shush you so you don’t wake your daughter up, but he doesn’t want to give up having to hear you like this either. So he settles for the next best thing, which is bringing his lips to yours and kissing you to shut you up. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer, faces mushing together from how close you were. 

You start to claw at his back, his shirt riding up to expose the skin there for your nails to dig into. The pain felt so good, like you were marking him as yours with each scratch that you left behind. Not like you needed to make it known he was yours, you were the only one for him anyway.

”Fuck, I’m close,” Eddie says, panting against your lips.

”Mmm, need a little more,” you say, and Eddie gets the hint right away. He puts his weight on his one arm and reaches between you to rub your clit. He’s never done it before so he has to do some guess work down there, but when you sigh as he comes in contact with what he thinks he’s looking for he gets to work on your bud.

”Oh my god,” you moan, and Eddie swears he can see hearts in your eyes when he looks down at your fucked out expression. While he’s focused on your pleasure, you bury a hand in his hair and pull his head back, exposing his neck to you. Eddie’s eyes roll back at the feeling, discovering something about himself in that moment. 

And when your lips land on the exposed skin of his neck he has to take a moment to refocus himself so he doesn’t cum right then and there. The way you’re completely devouring his neck is definitely going to leave a few marks tomorrow, but he doesn’t care. He’ll walk into work with pride tomorrow knowing that you were the one to mark him up for everyone to see. 

With the sensory overload, Eddie can feel himself about to reach his end at any moment. He was determined to make you cum first though, so he held off and picked up the speed on your clit. You started to flutter around him so he took that as you getting close and continued to pound into you.

”Fuck, Eddieeeee!” He feels you cumming around his cock and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt in his life. As he’s about to cum, he stops his movements and grabs his cock, withdrawing it from you at the last second to cum on your stomach. His hand works himself quickly to ride out the feeling as he paints your skin with his cum, working every last drop out of him.

”Shit,” he grunts, grabbing the tip of his cock and holding it as the last of his spend leaves it. He unscrews his eyes, blinking them open to look at the mess he’s made of you. He feels something tugging on his hair and he looks up at you to find you playing with it, a satisfied grin on your face.

”You okay?” He asks, and you give him a lazy nod for an answer. “Let me get you cleaned up.” He goes to get up but you call his name to stop him.

”I was thinking we could get in the shower…together.”

Eddie’s heart soared at the suggestion, wanting nothing more than to do that with you. Things might not be clear between you now, but he’ll do whatever he can to keep you close to him for as long as you’ll allow it.

[hurt-comfort-lover]

The Snow White Remake Could Have Been Good

This is pretty much what I would change/what I would've done for the Snow White Remake. If you want to write a fanfiction inspired by this please send the link to me so I can read it and if you could credit that would be appreciated. Please let me know your thoughts on my interpretation <3

Have the prince and Snow white be childhood best friends

Probably like neighboring kingdoms were close and the intentions were that the prince was eventually going to marry snow white when they were adults

I still want Snow White to be shy at first, but as the prince gets to know her he sees how passionate and kind she is and he admires it.

Snow white admires how strong and confident the prince is in himself. It’s sort of a mutual respect kind of thing. 

As they got older Snow white and the prince would spar occasionally for fun, he would always win but he respected the effort she put in. She would show him books that she enjoyed etc. Like I want really cute cut-scenes of them together

I like having the dad, but I want to see more scenes with him and snow white. 

Like him mourning his wife's death, and struggling while still doing his best to care of his daughter would be so fucking cute and sad.

Also seeing him be a good king, prioritizing his people by giving out free food, or building new houses and buildings, Training with the knights, and prioritizing his employees health and wellbeing. 

Would love to see him teaching his daughter to be kind and compassionate to everyone including the servants and knights, etc.

I want a more menacing evil queen. 

I want her to first, actually be pretty, but in a menacing way. Like Ursula in the little mermaid vibes when she pretended to be human.

I would like to actually see the queen kill the king, specifically poison him, assuming she has some sort of experience with that which is why she later tries to poison Snow White. Even if it’s implied and we don’t see him physically die.

I want some banter between the mirror and the evil queen. Like maybe the mirror is sick of being stuck in the same room, and being asked the same stupid questions

Maybe she asks who’s the fairest of them all and he’s like ‘As I’ve said a million times it’s- oh.. It’s not you.’ and he’ll like smirk or hold back laughter.

And yes I said he because the mirror has a man's voice and if he has more of a personality then I will personify him.

When she becomes queen after killing off the king I want to see her doing shitty things. Like stopping the food giveaways to make the castle more extravagant. Hiring an excessive amount of servants that do everything for her. Fancy clothes and money for her private personal hobby (collecting poisons or like dark magical items) 

I want the king to die pretty early compared to where the story starts

I’d say around when Snow White is a pre-teen, doesn’t need to be exact. I prefer for the actual story to start when she’s an adult, or almost an adult so it’s more modern standards but we don’t need an exact age

When the king died the changes were sudden, the queen show’s her true colors immediately, having snow white work as a maid.

Snow White tried arguing with the queen but it resulted in her being locked in the dungeon for days. I want a scene where she crawls out of the dungeon and she looks completely defeated, somehow more pale than usual, bags under her eyes, shaking from hunger and pain. 

The maids from when the king was in charge are very protective of Snow White and still call her princess despite the changes.

Snow White works as a maid, doing her best to take care of her people from the sidelines despite her position. She helps the other servants and knights if they get hurt, and gives the little food she has away if someone is starving. 

Pretty much she’s very close to the other servants and knights. 

When the king died the prince and her lost contact. His family tried to contact Snow White’s kingdom multiple times with no response after hearing of the king's death.

The prince is conflicted because he can imagine the pain Snow White is going through but doesn’t understand why she won’t reach out for help. Why is she ignoring him? 

When the story actually starts it’ll be very similar to the original Snow White movie

The queen finds out Snow White is the fairest of them all despite working as a ‘filthy servant’

She doesn’t want to get her hands dirty again and with her plentiful resources why should she? She hires a huntsman to kill Snow White.

One of the servants overhear and warns Snow White right away, all of the servants help her by giving her a small amount of food and clothes and help her run away to the forest.

Despite getting out of the castle the huntsman still finds her anyway. She stumbles back, trying to scramble away, backed against a tree. 

He stands over her, suddenly drawing his blade and going to strike. His hands shake as he goes for the stab, only to stab the tree beside her instead, only inches away from her face.

He apologizes, saying that he can’t live with the guilt of killing her. He tells her to run away, deep into the forest where the queen can never find her. She forgives him, hugging him gratefully for sparing her life and runs off into the forest.

I don’t want to go too much in depth with her relationship with the animals. It’s not super significant to the plot itself other than maybe like the animals lead her to the Seven Dwarfs cottage. 

When she finds the random cottage deep in the woods she feels grateful but guilty for breaking into someone’s home. But she’s desperate, she needs somewhere to stay before it gets dark.

When she enters the cottage she immediately shudders at the mess, as someone who lived in a very clean castle she was immediately uncomfortable with the mess. 

She gets to work cleaning the ridiculous mess. I guess technically in the original the animals helped which I feel like doesn’t change the story significantly so it’s fine either way

The beds are made, the kitchen is clean, the sink is empty, dishes are put away, floors are swept, laundry is done, and she made soup and bread. (this is basically like the original)

Pretty much the same as the original except for it takes a little longer for the dwarfs to initially accept her, where they were pretty quick in the original. Like they are literally storing a fugitive and risking their lives. The queen is evil and everyone knows it.

Also I want the dwarfs to have separate beds, idk why but that’s important to me. 

I want lots of banter between the dwarfs, each other, and snow white. I want the dwarves to gradually enjoy Snow White’s company, and appreciate what she does.

I also want a bit of lecturing from Snow White about making sure dirty dishes go in the sink, or that dirty clothes need to go in the hamper, not on the floor.

Meanwhile: Over the years the prince and his kingdom (which neighbors Snow White’s kingdom) finds out about the conditions of her kingdom.

He’s conflicted, angry because the conditions of the kingdom are exactly the opposite of what he expected, This is not what her father would have wanted. 

At the same time he’s worried for Snow White because those who have come as a refugee to his kingdom have no idea what happened to Snow White.

Now that he’s officially an adult he decides he’s going to visit Snow White’s kingdom, to confront the queen and Snow White, to see what’s going on.

His parents were against it not wanting to cause a war, but eventually decided to let him go as more and more refugees were coming to their kingdom. Something wasn’t right.

The Evil Queen obviously finds out that Snow White is not dead.

The mirror tells her reluctantly and she orders the huntsman to be thrown in the dungeon for treason. 

The rest is like the original where she decides to do it herself. She goes through her collection finding the odorless and tasteless poison and pours it on the red apple, knowing the red apples are Snow White’s favorite. (Have a previous scene that establishes that)

Uses her magical items that she’s collected to pretend to be an old lady, comes to Snow white (the mirror tells her where Snow White is) and offers her the apple, begging her to buy something because she’s poor and old and you know the drill.

Snow White eats the apple and immediately falls asleep. The Dwarves find her and she looks dead so they are pretty pissed. Chase sequence ensues, but in this version the evil queen gets away.

I want the colors to be slightly duller than before, slightly darker.

I want a scene where they each desperately try to wake her up to no avail, it’s super fucking sad and angsty and I will eat that shit up.

The dwarves are devastated, surrounding her in flowers like the original. I think they would put her in like a wooden coffin without a lid because the glass case just doesn’t fit the vibes I’m going for but again weird unimportant detail.

I can’t figure out a good reason as to why the prince happens to run into the dwarves and dead-ish snow white. 

I guess I could say that he was coming from that direction, and that the dwarves' cottage is near the border, but it feels a bit forced because I need to move the story along so any suggestions would be great.

When the prince sees Snow White laying there lifeless he immediately draws his sword, jumping off of his horse.

He would’ve attacked the dwarves, but it was so obvious that they were depressed, barely acknowledging him. 

I want a million different emotions flashing through the prince's face, the biggest one being guilt. If he had just come sooner- maybe he could’ve saved her.

Might be creepy to the modern viewer but idc, he decides to give her a kiss to wish her bye.  

I want the colors to slowly fade back to be warm and vibrant as snow white’s eyes flutter open. 

Everyone is crying except for Snow White including the prince and so when they suddenly hear her voice, which by the way she is really confused, the tears become of joy and relief instead of sadness. 

As she sits up in the coffin the dwarves jump in excitement and cheer as the prince pulls her into an embrace immediately.

I want a really dorky scene where the prince is awkwardly like Hi and Snow white says hi back with a really sweet smile or something omg I’m kicking my feet that would be so cute.

Ok now for revenge pretty much and Evil Queen suffering

Snow White promises to return to the dwarfs as she and the prince get on his horse. (No it’s not horse abuse Snow White is light due to being malnourished)

Definitely want her clinging to the prince, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Would be so cute if he was a bit flushed ngl

They return to the castle where the queen is raging, she had been mildly hurt when she got chased by the dwarves.

The Prince and Snow White come in, the prince is pissed and threatens the Queen's life, calling her out for trying to kill Snow white. 

The Queen orders the knights to kill Snow White and the prince, she's screeching in anger, and her hair is a mess and she just looks crazy.

The knight look at the Queen and Snow White reluctantly, one takes a step forward, but still hesitates. Snow White calls him out by name, telling him she understands his position, it’s ok. He can’t do it. None of the knights can. One by one they all switch sides, standing behind the Snow White and the prince. 

Queen is even more mad, screaming and trying to use a cursed magical item she carried on her. A ring that could burn anything instantly. She slipped on her finger and tried to use it, before she could she suddenly felt burning on her skin. She desperately tries to take off the ring but is unable to. Or if you want to be child friendly she turns into dust.

I get my Happily Ever After where the Huntsman is freed, Snow White becomes Queen and marries the prince.

 Also the dwarfs get rewarded with an honorable badge for courage, bravery, or kindness something along those lines. 

We get to see the kingdom begin to heal, Snow White getting rid of the extravagant things of the Evil Queen, and giving food to the poor. 

Probably the ending scene would be the wedding of the Prince and Snow White. Maybe like all the dwarfs are the ring bearers except for Dopey who is the flower dwarf or something idk lol. The maids that helped Snow White, the huntsman, and the prince's parents would be there. Lots and lots of fluff. 

[cybxrcvnt]

18+

Content Warning: Smut, PinV, Virgin!Daryl, Insecure!Daryl, Female!Reader, Unprotected sex (wrap it people), Reader gets bent over Daryl’s bike 😋, brief use of pet names including little dove, Angel, pretty girl.

Authors note: Guys please, I can’t stop thinking about this photo and scene. This got so out of hand. Genuinely this wasn’t supposed to start as Virgin!Daryl but this story wrote itself istg. I think I blacked out. But virgin Daryl is so special to me. I need to teach this man everything and then some.

Please HMO for a minute.

We all know Older!Daryl wouldn’t risk y’all having sex in the woods or really anywhere outside the house or walls of the community, it’s too dangerous with all the walkers and god forbid some psychos stumble across you. But Younger!Daryl is definitely less responsible. I’m talking Quarry or even Farm era, before the group runs into bad people and realises how fucked up people can get after the world ends. Plus we all know Norman played Daryl like he was a virgin, y’all need to remember that cause I’ve NEVER stopped thinking about it.

Daryl’s never been in a relationship before, and he has no idea why reader even bothers talking to him, let alone dates him. But after a solid month of flirting he finally believed you enough to date you. It’s not that he was hesitant, just skeptical. :(

Everything he knows about sex is from what Merle has told him and porno’s, but he refuses to believe any woman that’s been with Merle has actually enjoyed their time, so he doesn’t take his brothers ‘tips’ into consideration at all. Specifically when he said “Women love it when ya throw yerself at ‘em”, because he’s watched Merle get kicked out by security and pepper sprayed one to many times to believe that for even a second.

So when you came along, he never made the first move, always letting you come to him, maybe the occasional hand on you lower back or brush of your fingers but that’s about it. It was sweet at first, and it’s only been 2 or 3 weeks since you started dating, but you’re starting to crave his touch. It doesn’t help that when you try to initiate sex he blows you off with a muttered “ya gotta go’n a run tomorrow” or any other reason you should go to sleep instead.

Last night you finally spoke to him about it, refusing to let him leave the tent until he answers you. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable, and if he simply doesn’t want to have sex with you, you’ll stop initiating until he’s ready. When you told him that, he looked at you in sheer shock, not surprised shock, but a “that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard” shock.

“S’not that I don’t wanna, trust me, jus’ don’t want ya to think ya have to”

You talked for a bit longer, eventually he begrudgingly told you he’d never had sex before, which took you by surprise because how could a man like him not have been around the block. After that he quickly shut the conversation down, he was obviously embarrassed despite trying to hide the fact, so you let him and quickly fell asleep. But you got what you needed from it already.

The next morning you’re both going on a run, you’re sitting behind him with your arms around his torso, typical backpack stuff. The town you’re going to is a bit farther away than the group would usually go, about a 20 minute drive with no traffic and a throttle heavy redneck driving. Your head is resting against the back of his shoulder lost in thought about last nights conversation, then fading to something a little less pg. thoughts of hands travelling, clothes being shed, and lingering kisses.

Your thumb starts rubbing absent minded circles on Daryl’s stomach, a kiss pressed to his trapezius, then another above that, and another, the last just under his ear. His head turns to the side to try and look back at you briefly before focusing back on the road. You felt his body tense with each kiss, then again when you hands start moving from his stomach to his sides, slowly but firmly. You trail your hands down his thighs, then back to his torso, repeating until his body relaxes again. Your hands move from his front to his back, trailing up his spine and over his shoulders, massaging at the knots caused by his crossbow. It’s only when your hands travel south that he’s tensing up again, electricity shooting through him as your hand travel closer and closer to the ever growing tent in his jeans.

Your hands stop just inches from where he needs you most, lips hovering over his ear asking for permission. You can feel the shaky sigh leave him by the way his back moves under your chest, a nod of his head sends your hands moving immediately. Your fingers ghost over his lap, testing the waters, then wrap around his jeans softly, giving a small squeeze. The bike slowly drifts into the other lane though quickly corrected and it doesn’t take long for the bike to slow down and eventually come to a stop in the middle of the desolate road. Daryl practically falls off the bike once it’s parked, you go to get off too but don’t get past putting both your legs over to one side before Daryl’s hand are on your hips and his lips are on yours. You can’t help the gasp the escapes you, shocked by the boldness of the usually diffident man (when it comes to intimacy).

He steps between your knees until his chest is flush with yours, one of his arms snakes around your back to make sure you don’t fall while the other cups one side of your face. He usually lets you take control of the kiss but he wastes no time deepening it himself, the newfound dominance over this aspect of your relationship has your legs weak. You’ve never been more thankful to be sitting down in your life. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him flush to you, his hand resting just above your ass tightens as he rolls his hips against you, swallowing the surprised moan that leaves immediately after. You break the kiss long enough to say,

“Who are you and what have you done with my Daryl?”

You tease, a smile playing on your lips before pushing him back and stepping off the bike, turning him around and starting to sink to your knees, but he grabs your arm,

“ ‘Nother time, need ya now”

5 simple words have you nearly buckling at the knees, he pulls you to stand back up and kisses over your neck, rushed and needy as his hands shakily explore your back and sides. Your hands wrap around his shirt and go to pull it over his head but he stops you, pulling away from your neck and looking in your eyes with a look you’ve never seen before, one you didn’t even think he was capable of until now. He doesn’t have to say anything before your letting his shirt go and kissing his cheek, bringing his hands to the hem of your own shirt. You don’t press the subject matter and he’s thankful for that, pulling your shirt over your head and laying it carefully over the bike handles so it doesn’t fall to the dirty road beneath you, the small gesture has your heart fluttering, but you don’t have much time to think it over before his hands are trailing down your bare torso and down to your ass, groping them while eyeing your tits before he speaks,

“Dunno what m’doin”

He admits nervously, it makes you smile how sweet he can be even with his hard on pressing into your stomach. You can feel his hands shaking slightly against your skin.

“Can’t do much with our pants on”

I joke, hoping it’ll make him less nervous and it does, a small chuckle leaving his lips and a playful slap to your ass before his hands are trailing to your front.

“Smartass”

He rasps, lips hovering over your shoulder as he works on your pants, watching you pull them and your panties down over the plush of your ass.

“Y’gotta use your hands first or else it’s gonna hurt”

“M’not that stupid”

He says, making you laugh softly, but it’s short lived when he pushes you to lean against his bike, his hand cupping between your legs. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you at the suddenness of the touch, though you’re not complaining, and you certainly can’t blame the 40 year old virgin for being a bit excited.

Two of his fingers slip between your folds, gathering your slick before flicking his fingers over your clit haphazardly. You wrap a gentle hand around his wrist and guide him slightly further up until he’s in the right place, he watches your head lul back slightly and the quiet moan that leaves your lips. He’s torn between watching your face, his hands, or biting at your neck, his eyes never staying in one place for long, flicking over every inch of your skin.

“S’all fer me, huh?”

He growls, voice low and laced with lust, the sound frequency of his voice rumbling through your body and straight to your core. His fingers dip to your entrance, watching your face as he pushes in a finger slowly, looking for any signs of discomfort. Daryl may be a virgin but he’s not stupid, he knows it can hurt if not dealt with properly, but the speed at which he’s going is torturously slow, you buck your hips with a soft whine in hopes he gets the idea and he does, he pistons his finger starting slow but speeding up slightly, though still slow.

“Feels good baby, keep it slow like this but curl ‘em up gently”

He listens intently, curling his finger up tentatively, testing the waters. When your head falls to his shoulder with a breathy groan he can’t fight the smirk that makes its way across his cheeks, watching your face as he continues to move his fingers, finding what you like and repeating, adding a second finger when you get quieter, then a third until he has to stand between your knees to keep them open.

You pull him into a searing kiss, moaning into his mouth while yours hands work on his belt buckle and palm him over his jeans. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at the touch, a groan leaving his lips involuntarily. He pulls his fingers from your core and locks eyes with you while he licks them clean (gif, lord help me). You have to physically restrain from rolling your eyes, the view shooting straight to your centre. His eyes never leave yours, even while he’s unzipping his pants and pulling himself out, landing heavy in his hand and using your left over arousal on his fingers as lube to stroke himself once, twice, before stepping towards you again.

“Y’ok little dove?”

His constant check for consent makes your stomach sick with butterflies. You nod fervently, muttering a “please” and “need it, need you”. It’s all he needs to wrap an arm around your back and push in slowly, he groans deeply as you surround him, warm and wet. It takes everything in him to not cum right then and there.

“So fuckin’ tight, squeezin’ me like a goddamn vice”

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, gasping at the stretch and kissing over his neck haphazardly. He stills for a moment until he feels you relax, giving a shallow thrust and watching for your reaction, when he sees no discomfort he pulls back to his tip, pushing in with a sharp thrust. Your head throws back and his lips immediately catch to the skin, but it’s short lived when a squeal leaves your lips and Daryl’s having to hold your body weight up from slipping off the other side of the bike. He situates you on the bike before letting his words run a million miles per second.

“Y’ok? Ya hurt? M’sorry didn’t mean ta’ was jus-“

You cut him off with a short laugh and a kiss, standing from the bike.

“I’m fine Dare”

You say through giggles at his overly worried tone. Your nails rake over his clothed chest softly before you turn around and rest your elbows on the bike seat, looking over your shoulder to look at him. He instantly gets the message and stands behind you, placing a kiss in the middle of your shoulders before sliding back in, a groan rumbling against your skin. He lets you ease up again before he’s repeating his earlier pace but a bit slower, you can already feel him twitch inside you and know he probably won’t last to long. Not that you mind, you expected it. You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers immediately start working your clit. You were already close from him prepping you, and the noises muffled against the skin of your shoulder could get you to the edge alone.

“I ain’t gonna last”

Daryl admits breathily, his hips already losing rhythm and his fingers sloppy. He angles his hips in a way that has your eyes rolling, a desperate moan of his name while your nails dig into the leather of his bike. Your walls tightening has him pulling out with a grunt, his hand leaving your clit and stroking himself for not even a second before he lets out a guttural moan and you feel the warm spurts of his cum paint your ass. He leans forwards over your back to kiss your shoulder, heavy breaths fogging your brain.

“You’re a fuckin Angel”

He breaths into your ear, hand returning to your bundle of nerves

“Need ya to come for me, pretty girl”

His voice is low and raspy, though laced with satisfaction. His fingers are working fast and messy so you place your hand over his and with your own fingers over his, silently show him to move them in small circles. The change has you gasping his name and grabbing at the bike again, his other hand pushes 2 fingers inside you and his lips leave kisses over your back.

“Doin so good fer me, just like that baby”

And that’s all you need to be pushed over the edge, legs shaking and you lean your full weight onto the bike. Daryl hums in approval against your back.

“Just like that, there’s my girl.”

His fingers slip from your core and trail soothingly over your sides and back, his other hand slowing down significantly as he helps you ride out your orgasm, only letting up when your moans raise in pitch and legs try to close around his hand.

When you finally stand from the bike and spin to face him, he places a doting kiss to your lips. A smile creeping up both of your faces.

[sheerfreesia007]

In Sickness & In Health

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word count: 2,180

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Han has always been your best friend ever since you were both little. But when you get sick and need his help getting your class notes and assignments your other friends clue Han into how attractive he is. But what happens when he asks you if you think he’s attractive?

A/N: Divider was created by @bernardsbendystraws, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

Hey Ji! I’ve got a cold and it’s really kicking my butt. I won’t be in class this week. Can you do me a favor and just let me copy your notes for the week? I’ll get with Iyo to get the notes for my other classes. Thanks Ji. I really appreciate it! That had been your text on Sunday, the two of you had been hanging out the day before and got caught in the rain on the way home. He had worriedly told you that you were probably going to get sick but you had reassured him that you would be okay. And lo and behold, he had been right. After getting your text he had quickly called you gently scolding you that he had been right and that you would get sick because of the rain, but when he heard how scratchy and hoarse your voice sounded he had felt bad about scolding you. So he had quickly told you to rest and try to get better, he’d take care of all of the notes for you and make sure you got all of your work and homework assignments as well.

You and Han had been best friends ever since you were kids, your parents had known each other way before either one of you had been born and had stayed close through the years. Even moving to the same town and same street to live, so your lives were intertwined completely and fully from a very early age. Han couldn’t imagine his life without you in it and he knew you felt the same way. The two of you were so close that the two of you move as if you’re one, you finish each other’s sentences, there’s almost an intuition when it comes to your relationship. Either one of you can tell when there’s something wrong or going on with the other one and already figuring it out or talking about it before the other realizes it.

And it was always so funny to Han that the two of you fit so well together because you were exact opposites of each other. He was anxious while you were unconcerned, you were outgoing while he took a while to warm up to people, he was a homebody while you were someone who enjoyed going out. He teased you that you were the peanut butter to his jelly and that was how your nicknames of PB and Ji-lly had formed.

The two of you were inseparable and Han preferred it that way, he was the more socially awkward one out of the two of you and relied heavily on you to help guide him through friendships. Han had always been into things that others found nerdy or geeky, anime, comic books, superheroes, and music. He had always been bullied for the things he liked and found pleasure in but you had never judged him, in fact you had tried to understand him and enjoy the same things he did. He loved that about you, you always had an open mind on everything you may not have understood it or enjoyed it as much as Han did but you always tried to. He was so grateful for your friendship that he would do anything for you.

Which is how he found himself taking meticulous notes for the two of you during your shared classes. The bell rings for the end of class and Han pushes up his round framed glasses as he finishes the last of the notes before stowing away his books in his backpack. Slipping his cell phone out of his pocket he sends a quick text to Iyo. Hey Iyo, can I swing by and grab the notes and assignments for PB?  I’m going to stop by her place today and want to have everything ready for her. He waited until he got a response form her and then asked for her location so that he could swing by. With Iyo’s location Han quickly left the classroom preparing to get everything together for you before heading to your apartment.

The cafe is lively as Han enters it looking around for Iyo, she had mentioned that she’d be there with a few of your mutual friends on their break and that he could swing by and pick up the notes and work assignments she had for you. When he hears Iyo’s bright laughter he turns to find her sitting at a table in the middle of the cafe with your friends. Walking over they all slowly stop laughing and turn to face him with various greetings. Han shyly waves at them with a shaky smile slipping onto his face as he buries his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.

”Hey Han!” Greets Iyo as she begins rummaging through her backpack to get all of the notes and assignments for him. “Have you talked to PB? Is she doing better?” Iyo asks curiously. “She hasn’t responded to me in a few hours.”

”Yeah I talked to her about an hour ago before my last class. She’s okay, still got a sore throat and feeling like crap but her fever broke this morning thankfully.” Han responded easily while smiling softly.

“Aww that’s really sweet of you to be keeping up with her while she’s sick.” One of your mutual friends mentions and Han nods his head at her as she smiles up at him.

”Yeah, you’re really a big sweetheart to her for helping her out like this.” Another chimes in and Han starts to feel a little self conscious of their praise of him. He shifts on his feet anxiously and Iyo looks up at him with a soft frown directed at her friends.

”Guys, enough.” Iyo scolded them and they all giggled as they leaned into each other.

”I mean if I had such a hot best friend like Han I wouldn’t let him go without trying to be with him.” Another friend spoke up and Han turned his head sharply to stare at them with wide eyes as the table dissolved into giggles again and Iyo rolled her eyes at them.

”Ignore them Han. They’re just jealous.” Iyo tried to explain their words and behavior away and Han just nodded his head quickly before taking the folder that she held out to him.

”Jealous of what?” Han asked curiosity getting the best of him and not being able to let it go until he knew what she meant.

”Of PB having a hot best friend who’s too sweet for her.” One of the friends said and the table erupted into giggles once again which made Han frown softly at their words. Iyo shook her head at him and then gestured for Han to leave which Han nodded and thanked her softly for the notes and assignments before he quickly left. The words of your mutual friends ringing in his ears and bouncing along the walls of his mind.

Han walks up to your apartment door and quickly opens the door with the spare key that you gave him years ago. He quickly slips out of his shoes and brings the bag of take out into the kitchen before moving around to heat it all up for the two of you. When he had the food ready and hot he put it on a tray before carrying it into your bedroom. 

When he spotted you curled up in your bed buried underneath your blankets with just the top of your head peeking out he smiled softly. Placing the tray of food on your end table he sat on your bed before placing a gentle hand on your side.

”PB, wake up PB. I need you to eat something before taking more medicine.” He called out to you softly. You slowly stirred from sleep and Han watched fondly as you groggily sat up in bed letting the blankets fall from you. He chuckled softly as he gazed at you, your hair was a mess on the top of your head, your eyes are red rimmed and your face looks drowsy still even though he’s pretty sure that you’ve slept for the whole day.

”Hey Ji-lly.” You said in a raspy tone and Han smiled softly at you as he gently raised his hand to comb through your hair.

”You’re a mess PB.” He teased softly and you smiled crookedly at him as your eyes closed gently. “C’mon you need to eat something before you take your medicine.” He told you and he watched as you nodded your head obediently. He gently handed you the bowl of soup and waited until you began eating before he took his own bowl and began to eat.

As the two of you ate Han’s mind kept replaying the encounter at the cafe and without him knowing it you began to pick up that something was bothering him. After taking a couple spoonfuls of your soup you lower your bowl to your lap and turn to look at Han.

”Alright Ji-lly, spill it. What’s bothering you?” You ask him and he looks over at you in surprise. 

“I-“ he begins before sighing softly as a knowing smile graces his lips. “When I met up with Iyo there were some of your other friends there and they said some stuff that made me curious and a little uncomfortable.” He admitted and you tilted your head to the side as you continued eating your soup.

”What was it?” You asked as your eyes kept darting back to him from your soup bowl.

”They said that I was super sweet for getting your notes and assignments for you. But then they also said that I was hot and that they were jealous of you having a sweet hot best friend.” Han told you and you looked at him surprised before he opened his mouth and spoke up again. “Do you think I’m attractive?” He asked suddenly and you jolted in your spot on the bed in surprise at his question before you shyly darted your eyes away from him for a moment.

”Ji-lly you’re very attractive.” You tell him honestly and Han stares at you with wide eyes at your confession. “But it’s not just looks that’s attractive about you.” You say and Han tilts his head at you curiously. “It’s everything. Your sweetness, your excitable passions that you get so worked up over that you rant for hours on end about them, your patience to always make sure that I understand things that you’re sharing with me, your inclusion of me in everything in your life.” You admit softly and Han smiles fondly at you before he chuckles softly.

”That just sounds like you’re in love with me or something.” He jokes teasingly as he looks down at his soup bowl and finishes the last of his soup. When he realizes that haven’t responded to his joke he whips his head up to stare at you surprised. He scoots closer to you and raises his hand to press his glasses further up his nose nervously as you look down at your bowl with a soft pretty blush dusting your cheeks. “Are you in love with me?” He asks softly with baited breath.

You shrug your shoulders at him and your eyes are avoiding any connection with his own as your blush intensifies on your cheeks. Han moves even closer to you and reaches out to cup your face with both of his hands tilting it up to look at him.

”Are you in love with me like I’m in love with you?” He asks softly and smiles as he watches your eyes widen at his admission before you’re melting in his hold with a soft look overcoming your face.

”Yes, Ji-lly. I’m in love with you just like you’re in love with me.” You admit to him softly and he smiles at you sweetly. He then leans forward puckering his lips to kiss you but just as his lips are about to make contact your hand comes up in between both of your mouths to block him. When Han’s lips press against your palm he jolts back and looks at you slightly wounded and you huff at him. “Ji-lly I’m still sick. Don’t you remember?” You tease him gently and Han blushes brightly at your reminder as you grin at him softly.

”When you’re feeling better can I kiss you then?” He asks softly and your grin widens on your face.

”Well duh, we’re dating now so I would assume you would kiss me when I’m better.” You tell him and he balks at your words before he melts into your bed and cuddles into your side as you finish your soup.

”Dating huh?” He asks smugly and you grin at him before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

”Don’t get cocky yet Ji-lly. It’s gonna be our first kiss.” You tell him teasingly and suddenly Han buries his face into your shoulder as a blush consumes him as embarrassment grips him.

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek, @kaiyaba

@bookswillfindyouaway

[gabriella-arareyes]

Reasons why I absofuckinglutely loved First Frost:

Okay, it's 1 a.m., and I just finished First Frost. I need to unload all my emotions, thoughts, reviews—everything—because there’s a LOT.

First of all, it has been a hot minute since I’ve enjoyed a Chinese drama this much. But First Frost reminded me why I love East Asian dramas in the first place. It pulled me in, chewed me up, and spat me out in the best way possible.

And since I’m now a full-fledged adult (ugh), I no longer have my childhood bestie to call on our landline at 2 a.m. to scream about a new drama. So here I am, dumping my thoughts onto the internet instead.

Reasons why I absofuckinglutely loved First Frost:

1. Wen Yifan is NOT your average female lead. She’s layered, mysterious, and in my opinion, the series's hero. Sang Yan, while being the main male lead, honestly felt more like her love interest. We see everything through her lens, and unlike many dramas where the male lead gets all the depth, First Frost had its focus on our complex female lead.

Sang Yan? We know a little bit about his character—but we don’t really get to know him beyond his role in Wen Yifan’s life. And honestly? I find that dynamic super refreshing.

2. People say Wen Yifan is "boring"— IMO: she’s real. Some might say she’s too quiet or reserved, but that’s what makes her character so compelling. She had died so many times in her lifetime through numerous heartbreaks at such a young age, so I don't think it's very fitting to see a typical bubbly female lead.

If there’s a sun in this drama, it’s Sang Yan (don't let his cold demeanor fool you, he is actually very warm).

3. Wen Yifan standing up to her mother was everything. As a Filipino, I understand how deep family ties run. But I also know that family is more than just blood—it’s about who actually shows up for you. So when Wen Yifan didn’t just blindly forgive her mother for being her mother, that was one of the most satisfying moments in the entire series.

<<SPOILER ALERT>> Wen Yifan cutting off her mom? BADASS. And completely justified. Asian culture often pushes the narrative of the ever-filial child, but this drama made an important statement: Parents have a duty to their children, too.

4. The plot is THICC. It’s not just romance. Not only do we get the layered, slow-burn romance between Wen Yifan and Sang Yan (which, by the way, is the epitome of first love-to-mature love evolution), but this drama also tackles:

Family issues (Wen Yifan’s mom, Su Haoan’s family struggles)

Sexual harassment (Subplot of a crime, can you believe it?)

The reality of enduring love is not all butterflies and roses. It goes through pain, patience, and healing before it can stand the test of time.

It’s a deep, emotionally rich story with multiple subplots that actually get proper resolution (a rarity in dramas, let’s be real).

5. Their time apart was NECESSARY Yes, it hurts that they didn’t date for six years. But let’s be honest—if they had, they wouldn’t have grown into the people they needed to be for each other. Their separation made their reunion even stronger, and it set them up for a long and enduring love with lots of understanding and deep connection.

6. Su Haoan & Zhong Siqiao? Adorable!!! Their relationship added just the right amount of fluff when things got too emotionally heavy. There are times when I look forward to watching these two, because I can't wait to see how their love story unfolds.

7. The intimacy was perfectly done. Not over the top, not underwhelming—just right. Through their long embrace and sweet (and hot) kisses, you can feel their yearning for each other after being apart for 6 years. ALSOO DARE I SAY, by East Asian drama standards? Those make-out scenes were intense. Bless.

8. I was on my toes the whole timeee!! The ending tied up every loose thread beautifully. No plot holes, no random forgotten side stories (we are fully aware that other dramas introduce subplots just to ghost them).

9. The acting? EXQUISITE. Bai Jing Ting and Zhang Ruo Nan understood the assignment. Bai Jing Ting’s micro-expressions are on point! Specifically, I love how his eyebrows are very expressive. While our girl Zhang Ruo Nan’s ability to embody Wen Yifan's quiet, reserved, shy, but also assertive demeanor is just chef's kiss!

10. The OST? Absolute banger.

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

The story does not end yet:

I just found out that First Frost is a spin-off of Hidden Love! Which makes SO much sense because I knew there was something familiar about Sang Zhi and Duan Jiaxu. And now? I need to:

✔ Read the First Frost and Hidden Love novels ✔ Watch Hidden Love ✔ Read the First Frost manhua (Eternal Love)

So yeah. I am deep in this rabbit hole now, and I have no regrets.

10/10. Would spiral into obsession again.

Wen Shuangjiang, don't you get it? After all these years, I still only like you.

The First Frost 难哄 (2025) dir. by Chu Yu Ning [upcoming]

[petalburg-pokemon-husbandry]

BIG LIFE UPDATE

hohkay hey gang, been a while. hasn't it? As I mentioned in my most recent post (3 months ago...) I've been going through a lot of life changes that have made keeping up with things difficult. To summarize without getting too deep into things:

My partner and I have separated

I live in a new place

I have had to rehome several of my pokémon

I got transferred to a different pokémon center in Petalburg

So uhhh yeah that's quite a lot! I'm not gonna go into a lot of it, but the first three are all related. Felicity [Ribombee] now lives with a coworker from my old pokémon center, Benny [Charcadet] lives and works at the Lavaridge Town Gym, (Shoutout Flannery - you're a G), and Ferrintio [Sprigatito] now lives with my parents over in Littleroot.

As for the pokémon I still have, things have changed a bit there too!

Robert successfully fused with another beldum, and is now a Metang! I guess they have the memories of both original beldum, but Robert is still the “lead”, whatever that means when two brains fuse. I might have a metagross some day. That’s insane to think about. I literally just exist and I guess I’m raising a pseudolegendary pokemon. (Two if you count pillow) ((I don't))

Pillow [goomy] continues to sleep for 19 hours a day, though he has started eating more and putting on some weight. He’s been at the age where evolution wouldn’t be out of the question for a while now, but as I’ve said before he’s much too eepy to actually develop the strength to do so. Anything's possible though -- maybe I’ll have a significantly larger pillow sometime in the future!

Pyra [combusken] and I had a little sparring match with a friend and we lost BAD, so she's gained new determination to finally evolve! She's been training with Robert while I'm working, and she keeps trying to get me to battle random strangers on the street while we're walking to/from the center lol. She's getting there!!!!!! I'm so proud of her!!!!!! oh god i might actually be able to battle at a higher level if all of my pokémon evolve wtf is happening--

Ragman [Mimikyu] has been sick for a couple of weeks now. Thankfully it's just a stubborn cold, but I've had to take his disguises off several times to check him for swelling/rashes. Mimikyu are pretty much biologically wired to be nervous around bigger creatures like humans and Gumshoos, so it's been a hurdle to get him comfortable with letting me take his disguise off, but we're finally getting there! It feels weird to say this about a Pokemon I've had for years, but it feels like we're really starting to form a close level of trust! Maybe once he's all healed up he'll even let me look at him in a well-lit, non-closet room lol (btw if you've never seen what an undisguised mimikyu looks like it's not at all what you'd expect)

Siri [Rotom/Phone] has become obsessed with the gamecube for some reason. I have very little else to say, she just REALLY enjoys that hardware for whatever reason. There have been a couple times where I've had to physically shake her out of it just so we could leave for work. She so silligoofy

And that's the updates post for you! Thanks for sticking with this blog for all this time! Since you managed to reach the end you get a special treat! I'm changing my name to May :) J as short for Josh is still fine. I'm also gonna change my pfp since it's inaccurate now that ive started transitioning. See you soon, pokefans!

[likelyamused]

A rush. Heat and cold all at once. Like smoldering under a spotlight and getting hit by the droplets of a cold shower. It seizes Max's body in a tense mess.

“Jason. What are you doing here?” Max struggles to regain control of himself. He still manages to keep his voice in check.

“Ah! Is this how you greet an old friend? Where are your manners?” He leans on the side to address Celia directly with a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Jason. And you are?”

“I’m-” 

Max cuts her off, repositioning himself. “I asked you a question. What are you doing here?” 

Jason maintains eye contact with Max, but takes a step back. Max is not duped: it's to better pounce. He's testing out Max's reactions. He might have wanted to come across as friendly, but the tightness in his jaw and the slight squint betray him.

“I came to visit one of my cousins about two weeks ago and you cannot imagine my surprise to see you walk by as I was getting a smoke,” chuckles Jason. “I’ve been checking in with what you’ve been up to since then. Honestly, man, you lost your edge if you didn’t notice me on your trail for two weeks!” 

Max's face gets hot. Two weeks. He's been followed around for two weeks! His instinct did pick this up, but he was too… comfortable to make sense of it. He let Jason gather two weeks worth of knowledge he can now use to his advantage. What was he able to find out in that time?

“Must have been bored out of your mind.” Max says with a twitchy smirk.

Jason snorts. “It’s been what… six months?” He gives Max a playful thump against his shoulder. “Six months since you’ve disappeared and left us without saying goodbye. You can’t just leave like that, man. We had plans.”

“With how things ended on the last job, I thought it would be best for everyone if I just left. I’m sure you can carry on without me. I came here for a fresh start. I don’t want anything to do with that life anymore.” 

The back and forth in Jason's movements are making Max anxious.

“A fresh start? Is that so? A part-time job at Simsmart and living in a trailer are what you aspire to nowadays?”

Max’s breath catches in his throat. Jason’s going to spill out all of his secrets before he gets a chance to. He’ll spoil everything.

That’s not what’s important, though. Jason chose this moment to get himself known for a reason. Max needs his head clear.

“What if it is?”

“Have you been brainwashed?” Jason looks mockingly puzzled. “How can this be enough for you?”

“It’s a start.” Anger, waking from events that occurred months ago, resurfaces again. Jason always thought he knew best what Max needed, robbing him of the right to choose for himself. Max gets impatient. “What do you want, Jason?”

“You’re coming home with me.”

“No. I’m not.”

Jason chuckles again. 

“Tell me, Celia, what has my boy here shared with you, hmm?”

Max flinches at Celia’s name. She never told him. 

“Did he tell you about his parents? His grandmother, probably. Do you know what he did to afford food and stuff when his parents would blow their social aid cheques on booze every month?”

Celia’s face is an open book. Jason just needs to follow her expressions to know if he's hitting the mark.

“How about me? Did he ever talk about me? No! Then he certainly didn’t tell you about what we got into when shoplifting groceries became a lot of risks for too small a payout. Credit card fraud was pretty good, quick, but it lacked a bit of excitement for me. I enjoyed car theft much more. It's much more of a rush. Our boy here was always really smart about what we'd hit. Stirred us away from getting caught more than once.”

Celia’s eyes skip from Jason to Max, searching for a sign that this isn't true but not finding any.  

“Max got scared on our last job and fled. I knew it was out of his element, but he often needs a push in the right direction to do anything, ya know? Auto theft at gunpoint is a little more intense, but damn! We couldn’t miss out on that!” 

Max wants to scream “I told you I was against that idea! I never wanted to do it!”, but he holds his tongue. Jason had the habit of recording conversations. He couldn’t incriminate himself so easily. 

“Anyway, Max was always good at things that required more... stealth. He likes to observe, be sneaky, slide in, act quickly. I guess it came in handy here too.”  

Celia turns to Max, “What is he talking about?”

“Ah! Yes, Max, why don’t you tell her about the old man who leaves envelopes of money for you? What is it? Blackmail? Extortion?... A sugar daddy?”

Max grimaces, “Don’t be stupid!”

Jason hardens, “No, you are if you think either of them really cares about you. Look at her. See the disgust in her eyes from what she just heard about you.” 

Max keeps his stance slightly in front of Celia, but he can see her retreat from the corner of his eye. He fears Jason may be right. 

“Wait ‘til she learns that this old man is her grandfather! Oups!” 

Max snaps. He swings and knocks Jason's jaw. He shouldn’t have done it: Jason’s always been a better fighter than him. It’s too late now. Max moves forward to get another hit in, but Jason recovers enough to hold him and hits him in the diaphragm. Max folds over trying to catch his breath. 

When he gets up, Jason is hiding behind Celia, a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry you got caught in this, Celia. You seem like a good girl,” he says in her ear. 

Celia looks warily at Jason from the corner of her eye before turning her inquiring gaze toward Max. “Is any of this true?” 

Max heart drops. That’s when he notices Jason’s challenging stare. He’s like a dog with a bone: he won’t let go until he gets what he wants, and Celia stands in between. The hand, the apology... she won't get out of this unscathed. Max knows what to do. She’s better off without him anyway.

Max shuts off his emotions as best he can and turns a placid stare toward Celia. “Some… most. I was homeless when you met me. There’s no aunt. I'm currently living in a trailer on your grandfather’s property. I never told him about you and you about him, because… I was just trying to have some fun with you and secure a roof over my head, really.” He chuckles the last words out to hide that his voice was cracking.

Something breaks in Celia’s eyes: her light shatters and leaves sharp splinters aimed at Max’s heart.

“So you just used me… us?” Celia’s chin trembles.

Max can’t breathe. He hopes it doesn't show. “Yes.”

Jason makes a big show of letting go of Celia's shoulder. His eyes glimmer with pride, a familiar expression Max now sees in a different light. This has always been their dynamic, hasn't it? Jason pushes and pushes until the meanest, most vile things come out of him. A while ago, Max would have considered that as a recognition of kindred spirits. Today, he finally sees it for what it is: the satisfaction of having control over him.

“Good to know.” Celia walks away. As she passes beside Max, she turns to him, her voice both soft and searing  “Stay away from me, and from my grandfather.”

Max watches her leave with all he wanted to tell her stuck in his throat. What did he just do? Jason joins him with hands in his pockets.

“Max, Max, Max… You really fell hard for this girl. I could tell. Tsk! This is for your own good, and hers too. You two are not from the same world. It wouldn’t have worked. She'd never accept you for who you are, and you'd be stuck, like you always are. You know this, man. Don’t tell me you believed otherwise. Let’s get your things.”

“I’m not leaving with you.”

“Max, you lost the girl. And soon, you’ll lose the trailer too. It’s time to go.”

“Maybe. But I won’t leave with you. I wanted out, I got out and I’m staying out.”

Jason violently grabs Max by the jaw and pulls him up. 

“You owe me.”

“I think you were compensated enough when I disappeared without taking my share.”

Jason pushes Max and swings. Max barely evades his blow. He tackles him to the ground and gets a punch in.

Jason topples him over and takes the upper hand. Max takes a pounding, “Hurt me all you want, I’ll always hate you for forcing me into our last job and for destroying everything I built here. You won’t get anything else from me.”

Jason pushes his forearm on Max's throat and gets up. Max braces himself for a kick in the back, but it never comes. When he finally looks over his forearms, he sees Jason walking away with a smoke. Max sits up and tries to keep his heart from spilling out.

Beginning / Previous / Next

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Have you done Mime Jr? If not, I'd love to hear how the little mime child fairs as a pet!

I’ve got great news for you! A Mime Jr. (I normally type pokémon name in lowercase, but it didn’t look right for this one, so please bear with me!) would, according to all available evidence, make an excellent pet!

They’re taller than you might picture at two feet, but their hat-like head plays a big role in that. Nonetheless, they are the perfect size to be a house pet, not too large or too heavy to get around. You could carry a Mime Jr. with no issue. Additionally, the pokédex doesn’t indicate any specific environmental needs that this species may have that would make keeping them in a home difficult. That is, as far as a physical environment goes.

One thing that Mime Jr. really need is a social environment. Wild Mime Jr. have long been known to spend time in spaces where humans frequent (Legends: Arceus, Pearl). They have a habit of mimicking anything they meet in a playful manner, a behavior that serves two very important survival roles. Firstly, a Mime Jr’s mimicking is a defense mechanism: when attacked, these pokémon mimicking their foes in order to distract and confuse them, allowing for their safe escape (Diamond, Pearl, HeartGold/SoulSilver). Secondly, this behavior aids them in learning to interpret and understand the feelings and actions of others, both human and pokémon (Platinum). They particularly enjoy mimicking the dance moves of Mr. Rime (Sword, Shield).

Adopting a Mime Jr. is adopting a little shadow: a buddy who loves nothing more than following you around all day, mimicking everything you do. So long as this sounds pleasant to you, a Mime Jr. would make an excellent pet. If you have other pets, especially a Mr. Mime or Mr. Rime, you can share the attention from a Mime Jr, as well. What you really need to keep in mind is that, as easy as caring for a Mime Jr. is, you have to be aware that they need attention. The maintenance is far from high, but it’s pretty constant.

As far as their moves go, Mime Jr. are not all that dangerous, honestly. They can use a couple of concerning moves, like Dazzling Gleam and Psychic, but all thinks considered they aren’t known to be violent and their capabilities don’t do too much of a number on their score. If they feel threatened or upset, a Mime Jr. is far more likely to turn to flight rather than flight. So long as you keep an eye on your pokémon’s mood and are careful when playing, the risk of harm should be fairly minuscule.

Overall, a Mime Jr. would make an excellent, if a bit attention-hungry, pet. These little copycats make great companions due to their small size, social affinity, and relatively low danger. Plus, they’re pretty cute. I love their silly little noses!

[misfxtteam]

Bucky listens and doesn’t even know where to start with some of the things Tony was saying for himself. If he was being honest, Tony was more generous than anyone Bucky had never met. I mean even when they hated each other, Tony didn’t bar him from staying at the tower with Steve and then having his own room later on. And the description of himself, being difficult to date, he quietly contemplates that as they walk. Tony seemed to have a lot of reasons dating him was difficult but a lot of it was about why it was difficult for the other person to date him. But then issues with his own family life growing up and the problems with people dating him for the wrong reasons, he understood all of that.

“Rambling is more than fine Tony, i just need a second to process it all. I haven’t dated since…before the war,” he admits with a shrug, shaking his head a little with a faint laugh at the mention of engagement ring. “I ain’t asking because I want you to consider dating me. I asked that because I want to know where the boundaries are mainly, and because more could mean anything really. But you’re..right” he keeps his eyes ahead, he had enjoyed the last half day more than he’d like to admit. And he wasn’t like Tony, didn’t have a little black book of people to call because he didn’t have it in him to let people in like that. So sue him, he had maybe thought that…nothing, he had thought nothing. Didn’t matter anyways. He glances over to Tony with a faint smile, “we don’t have to define anything, I’m just glad it doesn’t seem like the sight of me revolts you anymore honestly,” he grins.

Dating was just not possible for him. He couldn’t see himself going out, meeting a stranger, and asking them out. He didn’t even know if he wanted to date Tony really, didn’t know if he was able to date. The nightmares, the trauma and the PTSD that haunted him, the constant struggle of dealing with his past because it would never stop being his past. He doesn’t know what normal person would want to be involved in any of that. He can understand Tony’s issues with dating, it seemed like he’d had bad experiences. But he didn’t expect the questions about HYDRA. He goes cold, he had only mentioned them to explain why he was even doing that type of research to begin with. He keeps pace with Tony though, staring ahead now as they walked, trying to focus on the first questions he had been asked.

“Before HYDRA, I had done…milder versions of what we did,” he explains, “My experience with men has never been like that. I’ve done some back alley fucks, i know that it’s not safe practices anymore but back then that’s the only way men could really do anything together. Guys didn’t date, couldn’t do anything like that, it was just..dangerous. But with women, I did say some stuff like what we did and I could get a bit rough, although I never got so rough with them the way we were. I was dominant but I don’t think I would say I dommed them really. I did get good at paying attention to their limits, to making sure they were okay while we were doing anything that wasn’t..” he has to think for a second to find the right word, snapping his fingers when he gets it, “vanilla! Vanilla, i forgot that was the word for a second,” he chuckles.

He’s taken his hands out of his pockets now and his hands are fidgeting a bit, wringing together as they walked. HYDRA was a different story. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to explain all of that. But Tony explaining his own traumas is helpful, more than helpful. It makes him feel less vulnerable to know they’re both sharing. “I’m..I don’t know if I’m going to do a good job explaining it. With HYDRA there’s..two parts to it I guess. The first part, letting you have control the first time, I..” he swallows thickly and tries to get the words right, “I didn’t have a choice with them. And it felt good, fuck it felt so much better than good, to be able to trust someone enough to have control when I know it wouldn’t be used against me, that I could trust you to make sure it was good and I could..enjoy submitting,” he admits, a blush building at the back of his neck. He takes longer to get to the second part of the answer, twisting the hem of his hoodie as he thinks. “I don’t know that I ever want to choke someone really. But having a hand on their neck, or their hand on my neck, not hurting them, not doing anything but just..being there, I like it. I know it’s fucked up, I know it is and I can’t tell you why, maybe it’s because I know that i’m in control and I won’t hurt them? I..” he looks down and watches his feet as they walk.

“I’m pretty sure that I like being dominant because it’s like i’m taking back power, and i’m able to use the power dynamic and make my partner feel good, and I don’t..” he blushes a bit deeper, “You’re the only one to really dom me Tony so..I’m not sure that I’m into it in other contexts but with you, I definitely enjoyed it”

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk, keeping pace with Tony and having to hide his smile at some of the things he said. Chicken salad from a diner felt like a crime honestly, and he nods in agreement, “oh yeah, most healthy options at a diner feels like it goes against some kind of diner etiquette,” he chuckles, giving a nod to the security officer as they walk past him.

Once they’re out on the street, he realizes that going out at night meant he didn’t feel the need to pull his hood up or try to hide his face. The lack of people milling about and the lack of potential cameras flashing made him feel a lot less anxious about going out and he breathes a bit easier as they walk further away from the Tower. But then Tony’s question brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to figure out how he wants to do this. Tony’s disclaimer made him realize he pretty much felt the same way. He didn’t feel the need to keep secrets at least he doesn’t think so.

“I can promise I won’t lie and I think I want to put everything on the table too. I don’t know exactly where this conversation is going to go but I can’t see you asking me anything that’s going to warrant me saying it’s over the line and refusing to answer. If you want to know something, I’ll tell you, I mean i guess that’s the whole point of this conversation. And the short answer to your question is..is the internet.”

Bucky remembers those nights, he had just started trying to figure out his sexuality because Steve had asked if he still felt the same as he had back before the war. It was a fair question, after everything with HYDRA and the conditioning, there was no telling what that did to his mentality and his personal preferences. Bucky hadn’t been sure, but Steve made it clear that in the current age, there was no need to hide whatever his preferences ended up being if they weren’t the norm. So when Bucky had his nightmares and was up for the night, he would pull open his laptop and just type his random questions into Google.

“It started because I was trying to figure out my sexuality again. HYDRA….well they fucked me up, in more ways than you probably think. So after talking a bit about it with Steve I just..wanted to do my own research. I had a lot of time on my hands at night because I never sleep very well, so I would use google and it started with me typing in questions about sexual preferences and there was a night i dived down into gender identity even. But most nights I would always end up looking more into BDSM once I figured the preference thing out, and I know I always enjoyed a..power struggle, and so learning about the different kinks and different ways of being dominant or submissive, it made me realize i liked a lot more than I had even known. And most of the educational sites I found always had a huge emphasis on aftercare, the importance of it and the different ways to do it. The main thing I picked up though is that it depends on the person you’re with, on what they need after being..roughed up. And that it’s important for the dom too, because of….dom drop? I think that’s what it’s called?” Bucky shrugs as they walk, glancing over to Tony to make sure he was making sense and wasn’t confusing the man. “I became very good at making sure to clear my search history,” he chuckles before thinking of what he wanted to ask.

“My first question has got to be, what the hell do you think should happen now? I think it’s safe to say we completely changed the association, but do you want to just go back to being colleagues, without the harsh digs every time we work together? Or do you want to try and be friends and pretend it never happened? Or are you open to the idea of something…more? I have no idea what ‘more’ would be but i’m open to figuring it out with you,” he confessed.

[themoonlitquill]

Whispers Woven in Shadow. (7/?)

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; HELLO I AM ALIVE!!!! 🙌🏼 I am so sorry (again) about this taking me so long to update! I hit a whole ass brick wall with this chapter for a hot minute, but then I was like ???? why, just WRITE it girl!! So this is the result and I hope you all like it. 🥺 I will also, hopefully, get on a somewhat decent posting schedule and have a masterlist coming! ENJOY!! 🩵

𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗡𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸??? 𝗠𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿-𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗶𝗹???? 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, 𝗶𝗳 𝘀𝗼.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 4799.

The end of the week was finally here.

Ariadne could hardly contain herself, far too antsy to keep focus on anything for too long, which put a damper on her Daemati practice and she felt a split second of guilt before realizing that she had every right to be excited about this. There was little to nothing to do in the House of Wind and whatever there was to do, she’d done it already. Mostly.

And there was no denying that what she looked forward to above all else was the fact that no matter the result, she was getting out. It was a constant that replayed in her mind over and over since the terms had been set. How could she not be eager? The anticipation made her buzz, nearly leaping out of her skin at the mere thought of seeing so many new things.

She remembered that Feyre had written ‘City of Starlight’ back at Archeron Estate and she wanted to know if it was like what she envisioned in her head. It’s probably better, her lips twitch. You’ll find out soon, don’t worry. Patience is a virtue, right?

Although, it was apparent that playing the waiting game was a lot harder than she assumed it’d be. She should’ve known better, considering the fixation she had on it.

“Ariadne,” it flowed in like a cool breeze, spreading to every corner in her mind, consuming yet emanating a softness that was somehow silken and rich; goosebumps rose on the surface of her skin, a small breath catching in her throat, and she slowly turns to look over her shoulder. Golden hazel is the only thing she sees and there was a realization at how devastatingly gorgeous the Shadowsinger was. It was strange to her because she had been around him plenty of times by now and all of a sudden it was as if she hadn’t really looked before.

“Azriel,” she watches as his shadows curl around his ears, trailing down his neck. They reminded her of rolling waves, the gentle kind, right as the sun rises and everything begins to wake up. She was utterly fascinated by them and if the blasted male would stay put, she would already be touching to find out if they all felt the same. “You’re up early.”

He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed lazily, with a rather hushed expression, eyes never straying. “I like to watch when the moon and the sun are visible at the same time. I’ve only ever seen it here in Night Court,” his wings shift, shadows coiled to his shoulders. “Rhys’ mom always told us it was their time to talk since they were in love with each other and were forced to be separated. I thought it was unfair and it’s stuck with me all these years, so I’m usually the first one awake.”

It was a beautiful tragic thing to think about and Ariadne found herself curious, not to mention - secretly - thrilled that he was initiating the conversation instead of her. She turns to face him fully, head tilted. “Why’d you think it was unfair?”

“I didn’t like that they were only allowed to be together once a day. If they were supposed lovers, I think they should have as much time as they want,” his tone was almost wistful, a gentle caress, and she wondered if this was part of the real him, seeping through and giving her a taste of what was underneath. “Having that level of control over someone isn’t okay with me.”

It didn’t sit well with her either.

For an entirely different reason that tugged at her heart.

“They’re together twice,” she resists the urge to rub away the ache, wishing to know why it bothered her so badly. “At dusk before sunset. The moon appears and gets to watch the sun when it’s most beautiful. All those colors,” a soft hum vibrates in her throat as the throbbing dulls. “The sun would see the moon start to gleam just before disappearing behind the horizon and when they meet again, the moon would know exactly what the sun thought about its light.”

Ariadne’s lips curve, honey swirling and warm, the steady beat nearly unnoticeable and Azriel was frozen, enraptured by the whisper of her words and the small crinkle in her left eye, subtle but there. His shadows drift towards her and he doesn’t have the mind to draw them back, which seems to further encourage them to move closer, and he takes a breath. He was amazed at her mind already, but this was something else.

“I like that,” she blinks and he watches blush tint her cheeks, making a light batch of freckles appear, sprinkled across like stardust. He exhales. “You’re so…” the word stalls on his tongue, brow twitching. It was what he had said to himself a thousand times and for some reason, he wasn’t sure if he could say it to her.

“So… what?”

He wanted to. It was hovering over his head like an omnipresent cloud and the want turned to need, arms flexing as he struggled to remain still under her doe-eyes, filled with curiosity and a hint of playfulness, rimmed with wispy lashes. His jaw tics.

“Different.”

“Different,” she parrots, a single brow raising before her tone lilts. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“A good way,” Azriel was studying her so closely that he noticed the mixture of relief and something tender settle into the delicate planes of her face. Had she been… worried? No. That was Rhys and Cass getting to him. Wasn’t it?

Ariadne hums. “You’re different in a good way too,” she glances down at the ground as a couple of the shadows tickle her toes. “Same as them,” his posture relaxes and she chooses not to comment. Some things were better left alone. For now. “Did you have breakfast yet?”

“No.”

“Do you like french toast?”

“Yes.”

“Then come eat with me.”

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

A whole training ring? This is impressive, Ariadne stands on the outer edge with her notebook, quill, and inkpot held in her hands. I bet they spend more time up here than they do anywhere else, her lips twitch in amusement, neck craning to look at the sky. If I find the right spot, I’ll be able to see everything. The only question is where?

The ground shakes beneath her feet, eliciting a surprised squeal from her throat and putting her off balance, weight teetering on her toes. She quickly searches for stability and tries to plant her feet firmly when large hands settle on her hips, warm and steady.

Her head angles back further to find Cassian, who was grinning. He was always grinning.

“I know you don’t have far to fall, but you should really be more careful.”

She releases a frustrated sound. “Says the one who causes an earthquake when he lands!”

“It’s all this muscle, what can I say?” Cassian flexes his arms and Ariadne snorts, turning around to give him a light shove. Well, it was more like her pushing against a brick wall, but it was the thought that counted. “You should get rid of some to make room for your brain.”

There was silence and then he roars with laughter, the sheer volume of it making her ears buzz. “You’re funny. Anyone ever told you that?”

“Not recently,” she taps her finger against the edge of the notebook. “It’s good to know, though. At least I’m not boring.”

He pats her on the shoulder. “Definitely not,” his spine straightens and mischief glimmers in his gaze as the air around them shifts, tickling the surface of her skin and raising goosebumps; a silken touch attracts her attention and she looks down to find one shadow around her wrist, another curled around her elbow. She brightens, already enthralled, and misses the blatant surprise displayed on Cassian’s face. “That’s new.”

Ariadne hums, wiggling her fingers as it weaves through the spaces between. “Let me guess,” she raises a brow. “You get on their nerves too.”

Cassian narrows his eyes. “Do not.”

“Yes you do.”

Azriel.

She turned around and sure enough, the Shadowsinger stood a few feet away in his usual pose - arms crossed - and she wished he would loosen up, the tension obvious in the tightness in his shoulders and the reservation in his eyes. Why is he like this? He changes more quickly than I can think and I can’t keep up. How come I can’t figure him out?

The tendrils tremble as her fingers brush over the surface, marveling at how responsive they were; it seemed they were more sensitive than what was considered ‘normal’ and it was an enigma that she couldn’t figure out, but enjoyed all the same.

“See? We’re all in agreement,” she notes the flash of amusement in golden hazel followed by the slight shift in his chest, lips parting to release a breath, and the hard line of his jaw softening; they were near imperceptible changes and yet, she didn’t miss a single one. Well, you wanted to get a read on him, didn’t you?

Watching him would be the best way, Ariadne tilts her head. He’s struggling with something. It comes and goes and it’s heavy, her eyes observing the shadows swirling more languidly than before. They mimic his emotions, even though I’m positive they have their own too, which makes it harder.

I have to figure out the differences. How are you going to do that? This wasn’t helping. How long had it been since she’d spoken? Her nose twitches. “I made the scorecards and there’s two categories, so I was th-“

“I thought there were four.”

She glares at him, mouth tight. “Don’t do that. It’s rude and I don’t care for it. I wouldn’t do it to you and you shouldn’t do it to me. As I was saying,” She blinks. Wait, what did he say? She replays it over. How did he-? Realization slaps her right across the face. The shadow! Oh, damn the Cauldron! So much for secrecy! Her eyes narrow.

“I changed my mind. Two of them didn’t make sense after I thought it over.”

“What were they?” Cassian questions, causing Ariadne to jump and quickly step to the side, grateful she hadn’t dropped anything in the process and that no one would know it was because she forgot he was even there; her eyes focus on him, deciding a break was needed from the Spymaster - and his shadows - anyway.

“Agility and endurance,” she sighs. “I wanted to have more to look for, but it doesn’t make sense when you’ll be flying from one spot to another and I won’t be able to really judge them that well,” her shoulder lifts in a half-shrug. “Speed, self-explanatory, and form, how you takeoff and land.”

Azriel abruptly turns and starts walking away, causing Ariadne and Cassian to display varying levels of confusion on their faces, though the latter seemed to know something she didn’t, which was strange. What was she missing? Her brow furrows and instead of standing around like an idiot, she hurriedly follows after him, making sure to keep her grip on everything in her hands, and glances back to see that his brother in everything but blood was coming along too.

“Where are we going?” Ariadne huffs and pushes her legs to move faster to keep up, silently cursing the world that she was so short. What an inconvenience.

Neither of them answer and irritation prickles on her skin, mouth setting into a thin line. “By all means, keep ignoring me. That isn’t rude or anything.”

More silence.

Her eyes narrow. Asses.

Cassian laughs to himself from behind the small Fae as they leave the training ring behind, beginning to climb up the small slope of the mountain and into the thicket of the trees. “She has a point… Where are we going? What did you do, Az?”

The Shadowsinger veers to the left, a clear destination in mind, and ponders for a moment whether or not he should respond. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll see in a minute.”

“Ah, so you’re being mysterious now? Is that for your benefit or hers?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he repeats, wings pulled tightly to his body to avoid scraping against the branches. “We’re almost there.”

Cassian rolls his eyes in amusement, but remains silent. He had a feeling the end result of this was going to be more entertaining than anything he could say and he’d be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued and didn’t want to see how it all played out; this Azriel was exciting and new, something he never thought would be possible. Might as well take advantage of it.

“You aren’t leading us all the way out here to kill me or something, right?” Ariadne breaks into a small jog to catch up to Azriel, mindful of the roots above ground - the last thing she needed was to almost fall, again - and nearly grabbing onto his arm to keep herself in time with his lengthy gait. She doesn’t though. He’d probably disappear like the last time if I did.

Azriel looks over his shoulder, lips curved up into a surprisingly soft smile. “No. I’m capable of a lot of things, but harming you isn’t one of them.”

Oh.

She certainly hadn’t expected that.

“Well, that’s a relief then!” Her tone was breathier and there was a silent chiding to herself that she needed to stay composed. No need to lose her head now. “Are we almost there? Or are we going to have to stop for food and water?”

Cassian snorts, earning a sharp glare from Azriel, and he slides up next to Ariadne, reaching over to pat the top of her head. She immediately swats him away. “Patience, little Archeron.”

“My name is Ariadne.”

He chuckles. “I’m aware.”

She makes a move to retort when she bumps into Azriel, who had come to stand still, a squeak emitting from her lips. He was as solid as a damn rock and it wouldn’t be a shock if she found she was bruised from the impact. “You could warn me next time you kn-!”

The words get caught and come to a halt as she finally registers why he had stopped.

Her eyes widen a fraction and she steps around the Shadowsinger to be able to see better, everything else lost to her for the time being; they were in a large clearing laden with posts buried in the forest floor, artfully arranged from one side to the other, and there was hoops on top of a few, wide enough for a person - an Illyrian, more than likely - to fit through. Is this what I think it is?

Moving forward, Ariadne tilts her head back and breathes out slowly, finding what she was looking at hard to believe. “An obstacle course?”

“So this is what you’ve been doing for the past few nights! Who knew you would add carpentry to your list of skills,” Cassian stood beside Azriel now, a hand lifting to clap him on the shoulder. “And you say you aren’t creative!”

Azriel ignores him, golden gaze fixated on the youngest sister, surveying every bit of reaction elicited from her. “It is. You can judge more than speed and form with this, yes?”

She turns around, eyes brighter than he had seen so far and he was positive he’d do anything to keep it that way. “Uh, yeah! This is amazing! How long has this been here? Do you train here a lot?”

“You want to tell her or should I?” Cassian wiggles his eyebrows, ducking out of the way of one of the shadows and laughing raucously.

“Not long,” he inclines his head slightly, continuing to pay his brother no mind. “You can watch from over there.”

Ariadne bounces on the balls of her feet, practically buzzing with unrestrained energy, and wastes no time in going over, eager to witness exactly how flying really was. The only thing that would top it would be having one of them carry her along for the ride, but it was quickly dismissed. She was brave, sure, just not enough for that. Yet.

“Okay, I’m ready when you are,” she had her notebook open, along with the inkpot, and the feathered quill poised between her fingers. “Get in position and I’ll count it off.”

The two Illyrians do exactly that, standing a few feet apart at what was the designated starting line and stretching their wings, feet planted firmly and determination set into their expressions. Wow, they’re really taking this seriously. I guess it makes sense. Males are usually more competitive, she resists the urge to giggle. This is gonna be fun.

She goes over the scorecard for the millionth time and nods, completely focused and excited. There was no denying it.

“On your mark… Get set… GO!”

Cassian is airborne first, closely followed by Azriel, and she watches with a combination of calculation and awe. There was something to be said about the beauty of wings - one in particular - and watching them move with such power, such precision, was truly magnificent. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, not that she wanted to, taking note that while both were clearly talented, there was a drastic difference. To her at least.

Azriel flew with a deadly grace, maneuvering through the posts as if it were second nature, so fast that he was a blur of bronze and sapphire; she found herself mesmerized, the delicate features of her face showcasing wonder and not bothering to hide it, far too caught up in the art of it.

She paid attention to Cassian too, though it was difficult to share, and could tell that he was much more aggressive with his movements, all strength and speed, even a bit cocky. How was she to fairly judge this?

Cassian was cackling gleefully, tucking his wings in to shoot through one of the hoops as he pulled ahead before dipping into a low dive to bob and weave with ease. “Come on, brother! You’ve gotten slow!”

The Shadowsinger’s jaw tightens and he banks to the left, avoiding a post and ascending steeply, using the height to his advantage and propelling forward until he hears an indignant cry from below. A smirk forms on his lips. “I don’t think so.”

Ariadne was enthralled, memorizing every little thing that she could, refusing to miss any of it. If she wasn’t thrilled before, she certainly was now, and she knew that it was only going to go up - literally - from here. The finish line was right there and the sudden realization hit that she wanted Azriel to win.

Her cheeks heat at the mere thought and she swallows, that same energy buzzing beneath the surface of her skin. Don’t let me down. I’m rooting for you. Come on.

Almost as if he had heard her, Azriel flies through the last hoop and to the end, Cassian seconds behind, and she struggles to hold the grin at bay. She looks down at the scorecard and immediately begins tallying the scores, knowing that she couldn’t choose a winner based on who got there first; there were four categories for a reason after all.

“I let you win,” Cassian gives a pointed look. “I didn’t want to take away your prize and have you moping around. It’s seriously depressing.”

Azriel rolls his eyes. “You didn’t let me do anything.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Come back over here!” Ariadne double-checks each column, feeling satisfied with her judgment and her decision. It was close. Very close. She waits until they’re standing in front of her before handing them their scorecards, having returned to bouncing up and down with no restraint, excitement bubbling out from every inch of her. “Azriel wins!”

Cassian narrows his eyes at the paper he held as he goes over the numbers and soon his expression forms into mock horror. “The only one I beat him in was form?! Are you sure you aren’t biased, little Archeron?”

She scoffs. “No! I said that it was based on how you takeoff and land! You were off the ground first, so you edged him out there.”

“He’s a sore loser,” Azriel chuckles. “He’ll get over it.”

“You wound me, brother.”

Ariadne tilts her head. “I think you’ll survive, Lord of Illyrians.”

“Lord of Illyrians?” Cassian perks up at that. “Hear that, Az? I’m your Lord.”

“In your dreams.”

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

She was having a crisis.

A wardrobe crisis.

Normally, she wasn’t one to really give a damn about fashion, but this was the first time she’d be out and in public. Around people. With eyes. She wanted to look nice, or at the very least, presentable. The main issue being that she didn’t know what that entailed. A dress? Pants? Boots or heels? Maybe the silk ballet slippers? And what about a jacket? Leather? A cardigan? Was it too warm for a sweater? She had no idea. It was all guesswork at this point.

A noise of exasperation leaves her, hands on her hips, and she glares at the pile of clothes on the bed as if they had personally offended her. This is ridiculous! There is no reason why this should be so hard! Just pick something. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Is anyone going to truly care what I’m wearing anyway or am I just thinking too much into this? She groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. I wish Elain was here. Or even Nesta. They’re much better at this than I am, damn it all!

Ariadne drops her hand, looking over the garments before snatching a pair of satin pants off the top and slipping them on. They were a deep plum color and seemed to pop against her skin, accentuating the subtle curve of her hips and hugging her thighs just right. See? You got this. Look for a shirt that matches and you’re golden.

She begins to sort through until she finds a blouse with flowing sleeves in a shade of cream and pulls that on too. Good enough, I suppose. At least it matches. I think.

With a sigh, she finds a pair of ballet slippers with a hard bottom and quickly decides that it was probably the best she would find. Heels weren’t her thing anyway; she still hadn’t figured out how anyone could properly walk in them. She smooths her hands down her front and takes a breath, glancing over at the door and gnawing on the inside of her lower lip. Azriel said they would spend the day in Velaris and it was a few hours after sunrise, which made her feel… silly. Surely he meant the afternoon? It didn’t make sense to leave now. He was the Spymaster and certainly had better things to do.

Oh, to hell with it! Ariadne faces the mirror of the vanity, checking over her appearance - more thoroughly than necessary - and finding that she actually looked pretty. She had gotten some sun from spending time on the private balcony she had nearly fallen off of and the plum and cream looked nicer than she had anticipated. Not so bad after all.

She gives a final nod and hurriedly leaves her room before she can change her mind, making her way to the kitchen for a much needed cup of tea. The doors to her sister’s rooms were shut and as she passed by, there’s a sudden urge to see them, to make sure they were alright, but she didn’t know how to approach them. Especially after Nesta’s reaction the last time. How long has it been? She wasn’t sure.

A frown mars her features and she hesitates briefly, falling into a battle in her own mind of the two options; she wanted to be close with them and share her experiences, but she didn’t know how to reveal the fact that she was able to communicate now. Would they accept her? Would they understand? She desperately wished she had the answers, though she kept coming up short and it frustrated her to no end.

Maybe I could ease them into it? So much has happened since Hybern and I don’t want to freak them out, Ariadne’s frown deepens. How would I even go about it? Write it down first? Would they even be willing? I wish Feyre was here.

That familiar sharp pain stabs into her chest and she winces, reaching up to rub the spot. She’ll be back and then everything will be okay. Deep breaths. You miss her and that’s normal.

She sucks in a breath and forces her legs to move until she’s standing at the bottom of the steps that lead to the kitchen. Tea, right, she exhales and looks up at the ceiling. You know how I like it.

A steaming cup appears on the counter and Ariadne immediately takes a sip, allowing the heat to coat her throat, warming her from the inside out. Her finger taps mindlessly against the rim, completely lost in thought; so much so that she barely notices the shift in the air and cool silk brushing over her shoulder, strands of caramel tickling her neck and the scent of cedarwood and bergamot - along with something slightly sweet, a little smoky - invading her senses.

She inhales deeply, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. “Goodmorning.”

“Goodmorning.”

The smallest of sighs passes through her lips and her eyes reopen, head turning and tilting back to meet golden hazel. Cauldron, he’s so beautiful. It’s truly unfair. Oh, hush, Ari! Stop it. He doesn’t need you fawning over him.

Ariadne looks him over quickly - sort of, not really - and notes he wasn’t wearing the fighting leathers he favored. Instead, he had on black slacks and a black shirt, fitted to the musculature of his chest and making everything very much defined, along with a leather jacket. His hair was artfully messy and she wanted to run her fingers through it. STOP IT.

She drinks the tea.

“You look nice. I never thought I would see you without that sword. Truth-Teller, isn’t it?”

His mouth curves. “Yes. You remembered.”

Her eyes roll, a playful glint in honey. “Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

“Do you now?” Azriel raises a single brow, his hip resting against the edge of the counter. His gaze was intense and Ariadne shifts her weight from one foot to the other, heart beating a bit faster than she was used to. “Yes,” there goes that breathy tone again. What was the deal? “You’re… interesting.”

Cauldron boil me! Interesting!? That’s what you decided to go with?

That was the worst thing she could’ve possibly said.

But it seemed the Shadowsinger felt otherwise.

“Interesting?” Azriel’s lips form into a smile.

“Mhm,” she felt her cheeks flush, spreading down the length of her neck and she was certain a black hole was going to swallow her up. How embarrassing. What the hell was happening? She didn’t act like this!

Something brushes across her jaw, causing her breath to hitch, and she blinks, eyes finding the Illyrian to see.. Oh. Why is he looking at me like that? Wait, is he actually touching me?

Ariadne doesn’t move as his thumb swipes back and forth, ending in a soothing circle that makes her heart stutter in her chest. She felt hot all over, even with the shadow twined into her hair, and the stark contrast in temperature was sending her mind into a spiral with fuzzy edges that she couldn’t smooth out.

“Beautiful,” his voice caressed her, echoing in her head and she suddenly felt dizzy. “I like this color on you.”

What?

She wanted to touch him too. Badly.

And she wanted him to keep touching her.

“Thank you,” she swallows, subtly leaning further into it, and Azriel hums low in his throat, the sound reverberating down his arm and to his fingers. She shivers.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Go?”

That soft smile he had given her right before the race returns, the gold in his eyes shimmering and holding something that she wasn’t sure of. “To Velaris.”

She could’ve smacked herself. How did she forget already? Was he still touching her?

“Yeah, I’m… I’m ready.”

Azriel lowers his hand and she notices that the warmth he brought left with him, leaving her wanting for more without any semblance of how to ask. He offers his arm to her, head tilted, and she takes it, fingers digging into the leather sleeve.

“Hold on.”

Her brow furrows, confusion evident, and then the shadows shroud them, the kitchen warping around them before everything goes dark.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ; @ashblooddragons , @rcarbo1 , @waytoomanyteenagefeels , @prettylittlewrites , @tele86 , @missxmarvelous , @herondale-lightworm , @kabekusa , @fr0stf4ll .

[yokumirumerafan]

YOU THERE, yes you. *Crawls down the wall towards you* I have a request ‼️ So what's the KNY characters reaction when Their lover (Y/N) Suddenly turned into a hamster with a pink bow ? (Also can you Add Gyomei and Haganezuka along with the other hashiras and other KNY characters in these?) THANK YOU, LOVE YA, DRINK WATER, HOPE BOTH PILLOWS ARE COLD AND HAVE A LOVELY DAY!! *Crawls back up the wall and communicated with the other bugs*

KNY Characters Reacting to Their Lover (Y/N) Turning into a Hamster with a Pink Bow 🎀🐹

🔥 Hashira Reactions

🟢 Gyomei Himejima (😭 Emotional Wreck)

Immediately starts weeping uncontrollably at the sight.

Holds tiny hamster Y/N in his massive, trembling hands like a fragile treasure.

“T-The world is cruel… Y/N, my love… why have you been cursed into such a delicate form?!” sobs

Would build a shrine for hamster Y/N and treat them with extreme reverence.

🟡 Haganezuka Hotaru (💢 Aggressive Concern)

"WHAT. WHAT THE HELL. WHY ARE YOU A FURBALL."

Probably shakes you (gently) in panic before realizing that's a bad idea.

“WHO DID THIS? TELL ME. I WILL KILL THEM.”

Carves a tiny sword for you just in case you need to defend yourself.

❤️ Rengoku Kyojuro (🔥 Supportive & Excited)

“OH HO! Y/N, YOU HAVE TAKEN A CUTE AND MIGHTY FORM!”

Treats you like royalty, carrying you around on his shoulder.

Buys you the finest hamster food and brags to everyone about his adorable lover.

Would probably train you to fight as a hamster, convinced you can still become strong.

💨 Sanemi Shinazugawa (💀 Immediate Panic)

“WHAT THE—!? Y/N, WHAT THE F*** HAPPENED TO YOU?!”

Stares at tiny hamster Y/N in horrified disbelief.

Tries to act tough but protects you like a mother hen.

“If anyone steps on them, I SWEAR I WILL END YOU.”

🌊 Giyuu Tomioka (🤨 Confused but Accepting)

Stares at you for a solid minute.

“Oh. …You’re a hamster now.”

Puts you in the pocket of his haori and carries you everywhere.

Secretly finds you adorable but doesn’t show it.

💜 Shinobu Kocho (🦋 Teasing but Worried)

“My, my~ How did my lovely partner turn into something so small and fluffy?”

Gently pokes your tiny nose and giggles.

Tries to find a cure, but not before taking a hundred pictures.

“Oh no~ You’re stuck like this forever. Guess I have a pet now~” jk

🌿 Mitsuri Kanroji (💗 LOSES HER MIND)

“KYAAAAA~~ Y/N, YOU’RE THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN!!!”

Hugs you way too tight—almost smothers you.

Buys you a luxurious pink hamster house with soft pillows.

Wants to carry you EVERYWHERE like a fashion accessory.

🦋 Muichiro Tokito (😐 Calm but Curious)

“Oh. That’s new.”

Picks you up by your tiny scruff like a kitten.

Carries you in his sleeve like a secret pet.

Might forget you’re a hamster sometimes. “Wait… where’s Y/N? Oh, right.” looks at his sleeve

🐍 Obanai Iguro (👀 Suspicious but Protective)

“Tch… what kind of ridiculous spell is this?”

VERY protective. He and Kaburamaru guard you 24/7.

“I suppose I’ll have to feed you now…” (only gives the best food).

Secretly enjoys carrying you around but won’t admit it.

🌙 Demon Reactions

🦠 Muzan Kibutsuji (💀 Furious but… Soft?)

“What… What is this nonsense?”

Initially angry, thinking it’s some curse meant to mock him.

Realizes it’s really you and calms down (a little).

Ends up personally taking care of you because he refuses to let anyone else touch you.

“Tch. Ridiculous… but I suppose I must keep you safe.” (Secretly spoils you.)

💄 Doma (💋 Finds It Amusing)

“OH HO~ Y/N, you’re so tiny and squishable now~! I LOVE IT!”

Holds you up like a trophy, showing you off to everyone.

“Can I keep you like this forever? You’re even cuter now~”

Feeds you expensive exotic fruits that are way too fancy for a hamster.

🔪 Akaza (😠 Panic Mode)

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU? I’LL KILL THEM.”

Almost crushes a table in rage before realizing you’re just a fluffy hamster now.

Protects you with his life—he will punch anyone who so much as breathes near you.

“Y/N… I promise I’ll fix this. Just stay with me.”

🦟 Gyutaro (😢 Heartbroken but Devoted)

“W-What…? Y/N…? No way…”

Thinks he doesn’t deserve you anymore because he’s ugly and you’re a tiny, cute creature.

“I bet ya’ don’t even wanna be near me now…” (acts distant but adores you).

Treats you like gold, making sure you’re warm and safe at all times.

🗡️ Demon Slayer Squad Reactions

🍃 Tanjiro Kamado (🥺 Gentle & Determined)

“Oh no…! Y/N, are you okay?!”

Cradles you gently, making sure you’re comfortable.

Swears to find a way to turn you back.

Buys you the softest bedding and cutest little water bottle.

⚡ Zenitsu Agatsuma (😭 FREAKING OUT)

“AAAAAAAAHHHHH—”

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU?! WHO??!!”

Becomes extremely overprotective, constantly holding you in his hands.

“I mean, you’re adorable, but PLEASE CHANGE BACK, I CAN’T HANDLE THIS.”

🐗 Inosuke Hashibira (😡 Aggressively Loving)

“WHAT KIND OF TINY BEAST FORM IS THIS?!”

Pokes you… a little too hard.

Immediately claims you as his tiny warrior sidekick.

“YOU MAY BE SMALL, BUT YOU SHALL STILL BE STRONG!”

🖤 Genya Shinazugawa (😳 Flustered but Protective)

“WHAT THE—!? Y/N?!”

Blushes like crazy because he doesn’t know how to handle this.

“You, uh… y-you need food? Water? A, uh… hamster house???”

Guards you with his life but is too embarrassed to admit it.

Final Thoughts: Everyone = Overprotective

💖 Hope you liked it!! Drink water and have the best day ever!! 💖

[sophiamagia]

Bad habits

-Pairing: Bat family x gn reader

-Sumary: You vape. What started from sharing one with a friend, had slowly turned into buying some for yourself. You stayed at the manor often. The Waynes were a found family to you, and if you weren’t already being taken care of by your own legal guardians, you would’ve been adopted by Bruce himself. You’d probably be a new Robin and everything. You spent a dinner shared with the whole family, a rare occasion for the busy bunch. You step away for a bathroom break, and just take one hit. Then a few. Then you got caught.

-Authoes note: this is a request by the same person as last time, and I was excited to write this one. Btw I don’t usually write a lot of angst so this is so light I’m sorry. Again, I apologize for taking so long, it’s just a religious thing going on right now, no social media. I hope you enjoy it, and requests are open as usual. Sorry it’s a bit short 😔😔🙏

-warnings: small angst, usage of a vape, addiction references, little conflict, I don’t really proof read

~><><~><><~><><~><><~><><~><><~><><~><~

Bad Habits

     It was a rather cold night; you could hear the gentle patter of rain against the walls and windows of the structure you currently took residence in. There was minimal chatter in the large dining room as everyone waited for the food to be delivered. You were relieved to be in this comfy place again. The warm lighting graced the large room with a sense of security and peace. 

     Alfred delivered everyone’s plates, and Jason was quick to start devouring his food, followed by Dick. You chuckled softly, watching as everyone else ate like royalty. Bruce spoke softly to you from the other end of the table.

     “How have you been, y/n?” 

     “Oh, uhm…” you hesitated. The truth was, you weren’t on your best days. But it wasn’t worth talking about during a nice dinner like this. You took a small bit of your food before replying, “good. I’ve been good.”

     He nodded, and Tim chuckled. You glanced at him, seeing he was just on his phone, typing rapidly. Bruce told him to put it away. 

     You sighed, glancing around at everyone at the table. The comforting silence slowly became itchy. The urge to take a deep breath of something else was getting stronger the more you tried to sit still. You suddenly sat up.

     “I’m using the restroom…” you announced, a bit of nervousness in your tone. Everyone looked up at your suddenness, before looking back to their food. Damian spoke with a bit of attitude he always had.

     “Ok?” He spoke, before rolling his eyes and taking a bite of food from his own plate. You let out a breath, and turned away from the table. You walked down the huge halls, a slow pace turning into a pretty much a jog to get there. You could feel your hand already pulling out the vape before you shut the door. 

     Pressing the button, you brought the edge of the pen to your lips, slowly inhaling the sweet nectar that promised to solve all problems.

1

2

3

4

     Then you put it back in your pocket, holding the vapor in your mouth for a while cracking open a small window. You exhaled, feeling a calm wash over you. Feeling a bit lighter, you took your time with a few more hits. 

     You thought it was just a few minutes. Just a few minutes of relaxation before resuming the dinner. But when you checked your phone, ten minutes had passed.

     Shit…

     You couldn’t lie and say it was the dinner; you had barely touched your plate. Maybe you could say you ate something earlier? No…you told them you hadn’t eaten before this. Maybe they would believe you were just doom scrolling. Yeah. Tim does that all the time; forgetting he has somewhere to be meanwhile scrolling social media endlessly. You nod, closing the window. 

     You take another hit of the vape as you open the bathroom door, only to be met with Damian. You froze, making eye contact with him as a flavored smoke leaves your nose and mouth. His face curls in disgust, and his hands sink into his pockets. 

     “Please don’t say anything…” you muttered, putting the vape safely away in your pocket. He spoke lowly in response.

     “So this is what you spent ten minutes doing? I thought you hated bad habits like that.” He muttered, shaking his head. You couldn’t help but feel irritated and shameful. He must’ve been sent to check up on you, and you could sense his disappointment.

     “It’s different from smoking cigarettes, and it’s not alcohol, or drugs.” You spoke in a mumble, hands fiddling with the vape in your pocket. He snapped back.

     “It’s the same, Y/n,” He shook his head, “you might as well be smoking cigarettes. You can’t seriously be trying to tell me vaping is healthy.”

     You opened your mouth to reply, but saw Dick walking up to you both. This was quickly escalating to something you didn’t want it to.

     “Hey, everything ok?” Dick asked with a smile, looking at Damian, then at you. You tried to speak first, but Damian interrupted .

     “Y/n is vaping.” Damian said flatly, and Dick gave you a confused look. His eyes drifted to your pocket, seeing the vape. His eyes shifted to more of a concerned look than anything else. 

      Does everyone in this family snoop around? No, it wasn’t their fault. You were stupid…walking out of the door taking one last hit. But it’s good. Similar to the feeling of licking a lollipop. Then taking another lick before the sweet taste is gone. Then you’ve eaten the lollipop and go to get another one. 

      Humiliatingly, the lung-killer was taken from you. Everyone was told, and could’ve curled in on yourself when you saw Bruce look at you; the same look a father would give you. A father you actually want to be around, no less. A long conversation was had with you instead of a warm dinner and game night. You were just focused on the fact that you’ve seen some of them smoke before.

      Oh, but you practically begged Bruce not to tell your guardians. You would rather die than face that on top of everything else. But they did anyways. Your room was searched, your bathroom and trash cans. 

Now every time you come over for dinner, Alfred asks you to hand over any “addictive products.” Good luck sneaking past the famous vigilante detectives next time.