#to get out of my comfort zone if anything

[whambamsami]

smile, you're on camera!

pt. 2

summary: you accidentally find out what neighbor!bucky really does for work. and he's more than interested to show you how professional he can be.

note: trying to work a bit more on my dialogue! definitely a bit out of my comfort zone haha but trying new things! this is also not proof read at all lol so it fully might be rlly jumbled and rambly but its 3am soooo

warnings: 18+, a little bit of language and the tiniest sliver of smut!

It really wasn’t your intention to find out what Bucky Barnes did for work. 

He was always kind, even friendly at times, and an overall good neighbor. Always lent you sugar when you needed some for any baked goods you’d make (in exchange for a bite, of course). Changed your oil for free when your car was giving you trouble. You’d shared a few movie nights, and he always made the popcorn with extra butter, just how you like it. Even let you crash on his couch when the power went out. 

That’s where you accidentally stumbled across his… equipment.

He had told you that he kept extra candles in a bottom drawer in his bathroom. He didn’t specify which, so you tried the left side.

And there they were.

Cock rings, vibrators, handcuffs. Things you didn’t even know the names of, but you were clever enough to infer. A whole rainbow of sexual depravity.

Certainly no candles. 

A gasp had left your mouth before you could stop it, drawing his attention. 

“What is it?” 

“I- nothing!” you replied, admittedly a bit too quickly, slamming the drawer back into place and scrambling to grab the candles from the correct drawer on the right side, hurrying back into the living room before he suspects anything. 

It’s not like you were snooping. It was his fault, really, for being so loose with his instructions. He should have been more specific.

“Found them!” you said, a bit breathless, thankful that the darkness of his apartment cloaked the rosiness that was blooming in your cheeks. 

You could only see his tall, broad silhouette, and you could see his head tilt a bit to the left. You imagined he was looking at you skeptically, but decided not to push it. 

In actuality, he was getting a better look at you. Smirking knowingly. 

Like a wild animal who had just trapped its prey. 

Once the candles were lit, he pulled out his projector you’d grown all too familiar with from your movie nights. Lucky for you two, it was battery-powered.

“You’re a genius!” you exclaim.

He grins. “Horror or rom-com?”

“Oh, rom-com, please. You can’t put me through a horror movie when the power’s out.”

“Aw, I was just trying to get you to cling to me when you get scared! We have to conserve body heat in these kinds of dangerous events, don’t we?” 

And despite his usual flirty demeanor, you let yourself imagine that he snuck a glimpse at your lips in the dark.

The candlelight was playing tricks on you, surely.

Always a great host, he made sure to remind you, “If you need anything, and I mean anything, I’m sleeping one door away, ok?”

You barely slept a wink that night, your mind plagued with questions of what he does with those toys. 

Of how he might use them on you.

A week goes by, and you’ve spiraled a bit. You haven’t seen Bucky since you spent the night on his couch, which was a bit of a relief, and you’d honestly been actively putting a bit of space between you two. But your apartment complex wasn’t all that large, and it was only a matter of time before you were waiting on the elevator to head up to your floor when a familiar vibranium hand stopped the doors from closing. 

Bucky’s large frame slid into the elevator, offering a warm smile and nod. 

“Hey. Think you might know what floor I need.”

You laugh lightly when you hit the button, doing your best to ignore the fact that his cologne in the tight space was starting to become really overwhelming. God, you just wanted to bury your face in his chest and breathe him in while he-

“Oh, forgot to ask- do you have a lighter I could borrow for tonight? It’s for a work thing” he asks as the doors to the elevator open and the two of you head to your adjacent apartments. 

“Oh, yeah, I can drop it off in 5?”

“Perfect! You’re the best.”

You close the door to your apartment, finally feeling like you can breathe again, before rummaging through one of your junk drawers. Where’d you put your lighter again? 

When you find it in your bathroom by a scented candle, your mind started to wander a bit. 

A lighter? For work? 

You’ve never really talked about work. You always assumed he was still doing the Avengers thing, or at least some form of government work. Hell, with his body, he could probably be a personal trainer and make more money than you could imagine.

So what did he need a lighter for?

After slipping the lighter into your pocket, you pop into Bucky’s apartment after two quick knocks.

“Bucky?” Nothing for a few beats, and his apartment wasn’t exactly huge, so he had to have heard you. Where the hell was he? “I brought the lighter, like you asked!”

“In here! He calls from his bedroom. 

…Were you supposed to go in there? 

No. Thats a bit personal.

It’s not like you’d accidentally seen his sex toy collection or anything.

No, the bedroom is too personal, you decide. 

“I’ll just leave it on your counter! Don’t want to interrupt…”

You can hear him rustling a bit behind the closed door, and it creaks open. 

Bucky, wearing an easy smile, and almost nothing else, making his way toward you.

Okay, it wasn’t like he was naked, he had on a loose-fitting pair of joggers, but this was your first time seeing Bucky shirtless, and the way his bare torso had you reacting was practically worse than if he came out totally nude. 

Tanned, broad shoulders. Those arms, thick and toned, hanging casually by his sides like they weren’t the most tempting thing you’d ever seen. Rippling muscles littered with scars of his life before, hardened by such physical work. A dusting of chest hair, and a happy trail that led your traitorous eyes down, down, down…

“Thanks again, really. My last one hasn’t worked since the power outage, and I haven’t had the chance to replenish.” 

You snapped your gaze back to his, trying desperately to fan the flames in your stomach that were making your cheeks a bit rosier than normal.

“Of course! It’s just a lighter.” You shrug, hoping that you sounded casual. 

“I did mean to ask you…” Bucky tilts his head, intrigued as to what you might be asking. “What exactly does a supersoldier need a lighter for? Does Tony Stark not have that in the budget?” You joke lightly, a mask to your genuine curiosity.

That earns you a laugh from the mountain of a man before you. 

“That’s just my day job, actually. The candle I need for the night shift.”

“...Night shift?”

“I’m in the adult industry.” He says. His voice comes out plain but his eyes scan your face, trying to guage your reaction. Like he’s secretly a bit nervous.

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So like… drugs?”

Another laugh from him.

“God, no, I work for the government! Which, believe it or not, doesn’t pay very well, so… I do a little work in the adult entertainment industry. Sometimes”

A beat passes. 

“You know…porn?” he continues, having the gall to smile. 

You go bright red. 

“Oh!” you finally manage to squeak, “that’s nice! I mean, whatever puts food on the table, right? Plus, I’m sure you have a good clientele… not because you’re hot or anything, I mean, you are hot, but I just meant being an Avenger and all-”

He’s chuckling warmly as you scramble for coherence. 

“No, I get it. It’s definitely a bit… unconventional, but I can’t deny that the pay is a large draw. Plus, it isn’t work if you’re doing what you love, right?”

Oh, now he’s trying to kill you. 

You pause a moment more. 

“...can I ask one more question? At the risk of being even more invasive?”

“Course. I’m an open book.”

You take a deep breath.

“Are you going to fuck a candle?”

That makes him burst out loud. 

“God, is that what you think I need this lighter for? No! I mostly do solos and I have a private chat room where people can request whatever depraved stuff they’d like me to do. Tonight, I had someone ask me to do some wax play. It’s not exactly something I do all the time, so…” He holds the lighter up, like it should’ve obvious what he needed it for in the first place. 

“Well, what was I supposed to think! And good, I can’t imagine that would feel amazing.” 

You both laugh a bit, and you’re silently thanking the lord that he seems to see this conversation as amusing and not incredibly intrusive of you. And that he can’t seem to tell that the fact that your hot neighbor does porn is a living fantasy for you or anyone else with a libido.

As you turn his doorhandle to leave, you pause and turn around to ask,

“...Would you fuck a candle?”

He grins and has the nerve to wink.

“For the right price.”

And you practically sprint out of there.

Later that night, curiosity got the best of you.

Well, of course it did! Your superhero neighbor-crush-thing does porn. You’re only human. 

You felt shame, hot and wretched, curl in your gut as soon as the idea crossed your mind.

But, like all bad ideas, once it dug its way into your brain, there was no stopping you until you scratched that itch. 

It was late. Really late. The glow of your phone told you it was almost 2 AM. That added to your shame a bit as you punched in Bucky’s name into your search bar, earnestly unsure of what you might find. 

You tried combinations. JamesBarnes popped up with a profile of a middle-aged dad in Minnesota. WinterSoldier came up with a ton of profiles, from fan accounts to political conspiracy theorists. The prolonged longevity of your indignity almost had you giving up, but you decided that it wasn’t wrong of you to look. It wasn’t like you were paying for an OnlyFans here, you were just looking up your neighbor’s public profile. Was that such a crime? 

Your shaky fingers typed in BuckyBarnes, and there he was. A blue checkmark perched like a medal next to his name. He was a bit famous, you supposed, so it only made sense. 

For someone with so many followers, he only had a few pictures. Some of him with Sam, and other Avengers you recognized. Some posts from him at charity galas, supporting children in underprivileged countries, veterans, and more. 

His more recent posts were definitely a bit more suggestive. His bare chest glistening after it appeared he’d finished a workout. In your apartment gym. His shorts hiked higher to display his muscular thighs. A knowing smirk for the camera, like he was smiling just for you. Some at the beach, his time in the water plastering his shorts to his skin, leaving very little to the imagination. Cheeky captions inviting an onslaught of admirers to leave comments, some suggestive, some so graphic you’re surprised they weren’t banned. @Fuckmebucky92’s remarks on his latest post of him sprawled on white linen sheets in just his boxers had even you clutching your pearls. 

A purple ring around his profile drew your attention.

He had posted a story.

Recently. From today, maybe.

It couldn’t hurt to look, you think. After all, he had so many followers that even if he did think to look to see who was viewing his story, he’d have to sort through thousands of fans before even getting close to you.

So you took a breath and tapped. 

And there he was, in the same joggers you’d seen him in earlier, smiling easily at the camera like he knew who was behind it. His metal arm glinted at the camera, and you could see he was speaking. You turned up your volume to hear his voice, deep and raspy, speak to his fans. 

“...and I’m lucky enough to have a few slots open tonight for some solo sessions, so if you’d like to get to know me a lot more personally, click the link in my bio. I can’t wait to see you soon.” and he winks cheekily at the camera, just like he did earlier. 

You almost throw your phone across the room, how much he affected you. Luckily for both your phone and your insurance, you managed to just drop it on your chest and cover your face with your hands. You needed a second to catch your breath, but you felt a buzz from your phone, and when you picked it up and checked the screen, you had a DM request.

No. 

There’s literally no way.

@BuckyBarnes: Saw you viewed my story. Did my confession earlier have you feeling a little curious, doll?

You could just die right now. 

@Y/N: is this how you find your clients? hunting down people who view your public profile?

He replied almost instantly.

@BuckyBarnes: Call me an entrepreneur. And don’t pretend like you were trying to be neighborly.

God, you could practically see his smirk.

@Y/N: confident, are we? i just wanted to make sure you weren’t using my lighter for anything more inappropriate than you already planned!

@BuckyBarnes: So you weren’t the least bit interested in what you might find on my account? C’mon, I won’t tell…

You’re about to quip something back, but you see those bubbles pop back up again. 

@BuckyBarnes: If you ever want a private session, I’m right next door.

Oh, he had to be kidding.

@Y/N: …do i get a neighbor discount?

@BuckyBarnes: Hell, I’d give it to you for free. 

@Y/N: that’s high praise. 

@BuckyBarnes: Call it an ambitious marketing strategy. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll convince you to be a guest star in one of my little homemade videos…

@Y/N: you must have really liked that lighter, huh?

@BuckyBarnes: I had plenty of fun with the lighter. But if I need to hold it hostage to convince you to come over here, I’m not above that.

You roll your eyes. Ever the flirt.

@BuckyBarnes: C’mon, baby. I’ve been dying to see what makes you tick. 

Once again, Bucky Barnes was stealing precious sleep from you. 

Of course you bump into him in the elevator the next morning.

You two exchange polite nods. He stands next to you. Had he gotten taller overnight, or was his presence just more encapsulating? Your plan was to keep your mouth shut, because god knows it’s been getting you in trouble lately. But of course, Bucky wasn’t having that.

“Late night?” a knowing tone in his voice. 

Great. He’s in the mood to fuck with you. 

“..a bit.” you reply cautiously. What the hell is he playing at?

“You don’t want to ask me if I got enough sleep?” and that false innocence in his voice had you more nervous than you’d like to admit.

“...Did you have a late night, Bucky?” 

“Oh, I think you know the answer to that.” he coos, leaning in just enough to be closer than usual. 

Thank god it was your floor. 

The elevator doors opened and you practically jumped out, speeding off to your apartment, praying you made it out in time before he caught a glimpse of your face.

“Offer still stands, doll.” he calls after you.

Jesus Christ.

Your phone dings seconds after you make it to your apartment. 

@BuckyBarnes: Door’s always unlocked, sweetheart. Let me show you why I’m a professional. 

And you slump to the floor.

Hours later, you finished up at the gym and took a much-needed shower. The heat that had been building between you and Bucky was enough already to warrant at least 20 minutes self-reflecting in cold water, and your attempt to sweat him out of your system had proved fruitless. 

Of course, there was always the old fashioned way to relieve a little stress.

So that’s how you ended up on your back in bed with your hand shamelessly stuffed down your panties. Your little silk slip nightdress, the black one you sleep in when it’s extra hot in your room, is bunched up around your hips as you work yourself as silently as possible, stifling your little gasps, the thought of what Bucky could do to you filling your lust-clouded mind. 

You finally found a rhythm when your phone buzzed to life. Who the hell is texting you at this hour, interrupting your extremely vital indulgence?

@BuckyBarnes: Want to know one of the many perks of being a supersoldier?

God, why now? You were so close…

@Y/N: make it quick barnes, im busy

@BuckyBarnes: Oh, I know you are. Because one of the perks of being a supersoldier is the enhanced senses.

Fuck.

@BuckyBarnes: I can hear every pretty little noise you’re trying not to make right now. I can hear your heartbeat quicken. God, doll, I can practically taste you from here.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You would have to move apartments. Countries, maybe. 

@BuckyBarnes: Let me help you, sweet girl. I know what you need. Let me give you what you need, yeah?

@BuckyBarnes: Were you thinking about me, hmm? Trying to get me off your mind? Poor thing, you should have just asked me to help. I’m right across the hall.  

@BuckyBarnes: Let me take care of you, baby. 

[sknyuz]

cheers to youth | na baekjin

synopsis — seventeen begins to feel less like a number and more like a fleeting chance at youth for baekjin, and you're determined to help him reclaim it. now playing — cheers to youth - seventeen pairing — na baekjin x reader genre — a prequel to before the storm, fluff, hurt/comfort, f2l cw — mentions of violence (bruised knuckles, blood), implied gang activity, hints of trauma, light angst wc — ~3k

masterlist | join the taglist | 400 follower event

⤷ read before the storm here

note: i am soooo excited to bring them back <3 thank u sm bubble anon and i hope to hear ur thoughts about this. ur request was a great way to circle back to their story. so, here’s a bit more of a softer side to our before the storm couple, before before the storm.

baekjin has been tutoring you for a few months.

months of sharp pencil taps and hushed explanations about algebra formulas, chemical equations, and the difference between mitosis and meiosis. three months of neatly organized notes, and surprisingly, moving from the library to quiet cafes after school, and the faint scent of worn-out textbooks. and somewhere between “you’re solving this backwards again” and “just memorize the codes by category,” you started to notice it.

it being: baekjin is different from you—not in the way most teenage boys are. he doesn’t tease, doesn’t zone out mid-sentence or start humming the latest pop song stuck in his head, baekjin is the kind of different that feels… heavier.

he doesn’t skip class or doodles in the margins of his notebook. and he definitely doesn’t take mirror selfies or kick vending machines when their drink gets stuck. baekjin doesn’t scream when teachers announce a pop quiz—just flips the page like he’s been expecting it all along.

you notice it especially in the way he walks—like he’s older than the rest of you. like seventeen is just a number he has to wear, not a year he gets to live in.

for you, seventeen is messy. it’s loud and full of mistakes, it’s glittery pens and bad decisions and crushes you won’t remember in two years.

but for baekjin, seventeen looks like duty, like pressure. like everything could fall apart if he dares to slow down.

and then the bell rings—that sharp, metallic echo that usually means freedom.

but baekjin doesn’t flinch with relief, he flinches like he’s bracing for something.

when the bells ring, i become fearful / these days, my heart gets scared first

you’re walking out of the building together, the sky bleeding into early evening. his backpack’s weighed down with papers—union notes, scribbled with surveillance details and plate numbers, things no seventeen-year-old should have to memorize.

he doesn’t bother hiding them from you anymore.

maybe he tried, once—keeping his bruised knuckles in his sleeves during tutoring, glancing at his phone under the table like it wasn’t burning a hole in his pocket. but now, he knows there’s no point, you’ve always noticed more than you let on. maybe you’re not as oblivious as your homeroom teacher thinks you are.

and maybe that’s why he lets the notes spill out so easily now—right next to your math textbook, like they belong there. he doesn’t flinch when your eyes catch the names or the red circles. he doesn’t apologize when he’s late, when his jaw is tense, when there’s dried blood on his collar.

you don’t push, you never ask about it.

and somehow, that quiet understanding—your decision to let him keep his secrets without making him feel like a secret—is more comforting than anything.

it’s not subtle, nor is it normal. but for baekjin, it’s something that feels oddly peaceful.

“do you even like being in high school?” you ask suddenly. your voice is light, but your heart’s not.

he doesn’t look up, just keeps writing something in his notebook as he walks. “…that’s not the point.”

i want to be alone, but i don’t want to be alone / i don’t get myself either…

“what is the point, then?” you lean closer, not letting him off that easily, “if you’re not having fun now, when will you? when you’re dead or dying?” you snort, but baekjin tenses up.

his pen stalls, the tip presses too long into the page, leaving behind a blot of ink. you watch it bloom like something bruising.

he lifts his eyes to you, just for a second, and there’s a flicker of something there—something soft, almost unsure, like a door left ajar. like he wants to say something, but doesn’t have the words for it yet.

so you smile at him, and that’s when you decide: if baekjin can’t find the fun in seventeen, then maybe you’ll just have to bring it to him yourself.

you take him to a photo booth after school.

you pile silly props onto his head—mismatched glasses and floppy bunny ears while he tries to duck out of the frame.

“baekjin,” you say, tugging his sleeve. “just one picture. c’mon.”

he hesitates, so you squint into the lens and say, “if you don’t smile, i’m writing ‘DNA is my myers-briggs personality type’ on our next biology exam.”

his head jerks toward you, scandalized—and that’s when the camera flashes, catching the sound of his startled laugh mid-escape.

in this suffocating world / i smiled for a moment at something small…

you wait for it to print and tuck it into your pocket.

baekjin doesn’t ask for a copy, but you catch him glancing over your shoulder as you look at it again later. just once. like he wants to remember what that felt like. maybe he wouldn’t mind seeing himself like that again.

the next monday at school, baekjin finds the photo booth strip tucked inside his notebook.

the following week after tutoring, you drag a grumbling baekjin to the ice cream shop next to your academy. you hand him a cone that’s too bright, too blue, too artificial-looking. he stares at it like you handed him a grenade.

“just try it,” you say, already halfway through your own.

he takes a bite, flinching with a subtle grimace, eyes narrowing at the cone.

“this tastes like melted bubblegum,” he says flatly.

you laugh, “good! you’re supposed to taste your childhood.”

he opens his mouth—maybe to say childhood?, like it’s a foreign word. baekjin doesn’t remember much sweetness in his. only the kind of silence that swallows whole, the kind of pain that you outgrow only in size. there were no ice creams or photobooths, only cracked knuckles, bitten lips, too many nights where the only thing he tasted was copper and fear.

but now, he’s still in his youth, isn’t he? he’s still got time. maybe this—this ridiculous, artificial bubblegum flavor—can be the new taste of it, maybe it can fill in the blank spaces where laughter should’ve been, maybe it can be the one thing that finally overtakes the taste of blood in his mouth and ache in his chest.

so he doesn’t complain again. just finishes the whole thing, sticky fingers and all.

it just so happens we’re facing today for the first time / even if you hate yourself more from the deeply hurtful remarks you said / let’s not worry about it…

a few weeks later, something shifts in baekjin.

he shows up to tutoring with a split lip and silence clinging to his shoulders like a second jacket. he doesn’t offer an explanation, and you don’t ask—not yet. but you notice the way his eyes stay fixed on his notes like he’s trying to disappear into the margins. how the pen in his hand presses too hard, like he’s holding back something that wants to claw out.

you don’t like the way he flinches when someone laughs too loud outside the café window. or how he doesn’t touch his drink, just lets the ice melt.

so you slam your notebook shut and say, “we’re going out.”

baekjin blinks. “…what?”

���noraebang.”

“no.”

“yes.” your voice is firm, but you smile. “you can sit in the corner and sulk if you want. but you’re not going home like this.”

he sighs like he hates that you notice things, but he follows you out the door anyway.

the karaoke room is smaller than you expected, the mic a little too echoey, the screen slightly lagging behind the beat. still, you’re already queuing up songs while baekjin stands awkwardly by the couch like he’s considering making a run for it.

“i don’t sing,” he mutters, eyes scanning the laminated songbook like it might bite.

“good thing i do,” you grin, clicking on a familiar intro—the kind of upbeat, fluttery track you know he’d never pick.

you toss him the tambourine, and he catches it without thinking. “what am i supposed to do with this?” he asks, gaze flicking up to you—quizzical, unimpressed.

“participate in your youth!” you say, already grabbing the mic as the first verse starts.

he rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t leave. a minute later, he’s still there—half-heartedly tapping the tambourine against his palm as you belt out the chorus, your voice cracking with enthusiasm more than skill.

we should be solving quadratic formulas right now, he thinks. and you probably will flunk your next test at this rate. he sighs with the thought—but that also means he’ll have to tutor you again next week.

his eyes drift toward you—they don’t leave.

with our voices, wherever we are, let’s sing—cheers to youth…

baekjin doesn’t sing, that part was true. he doesn’t even hum. but there’s a ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth, barely there. his eyes stay on you like the rest of the world has gone quiet.

and for once, the union feels a little less close. like in this cramped, echoey karaoke room—with you laughing off-key under dim lights—it’s somewhere far away, out of reach.

it’s raining when you step out of the karaoke room. not a drizzle—a full, angry downpour, bouncing off the pavement and pooling along the curb.

“perfect,” you mutter, tugging your bag over your shoulder. you forgot your umbrella—again—but baekjin didn’t.  he sighs, pulling out a small umbrella from his backpack. “you always forget yours.” this wasn’t the first time you forgot your umbrella.

“i like to live on the edge,” you grin, ducking under his. he stiffens a little as your shoulder brushes his.

your place is only two blocks away. you insist it’s faster than waiting, and baekjin, though visibly reluctant, walks beside you in the downpour. the umbrella doesn’t quite cover both of you. but he doesn’t complain when your shoulder brushes his, or when his other one gets soaked in the rain.

he should be with the union right now, there’s a meeting and he knows it, feels the weight of it tugging at the edges of his mind like a leash. but your warmth is close, and the rain is loud, and somehow… baekjin’s legs move before he thinks.

a few minutes later, you pause at your doorstep, rainwater slipping from your sleeves as you fumble with the key.

“your parents… probably wouldn’t want me staying,” he says, clearing his throat. his voice is steady, but his eyes flick to the street like he’s searching for a way out. he shifts back a step, fingers tightening on the umbrella still dripping at his side. “i should head out.”

but he knows it’s just an excuse. he noticed it earlier—how he softened without meaning to, how stepping inside your world felt like crossing a line he wasn’t sure he deserved to.

“i live alone,” you say, quiet but certain.

not many things surprise him, but that piece of information might have made him feel it. maybe because you always seemed like someone who’d come home to a warm meal and soft smiles, the kind of person whose energy felt… loved. lived in. he never imagined you turning the lights on to silence—never pictured you being alone in the same ways he is.

a flicker of concern bubbles in his chest—unfamiliar, uninvited, but not unwelcome.

it settles beside the rest of the feelings he hasn’t named yet.

he hesitates… then steps inside.

your apartment is small, a little cluttered, but warm. the kind of place with mismatched socks drying on the heater and cereal boxes stacked on top of the fridge. baekjin’s eyes scan the room like he’s trying to memorize it, but he doesn’t say much. just sets his shoes neatly by the door and follows you inside.

you hand him a towel. he takes it with a quiet nod, his gaze flicking toward the small, but comfortable mess of your space before he looks away.

later, he lies beside you on the floor under a ceiling of glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck up last summer. they’re uneven, a few peeling at the corners, but still glowing faintly above your heads like they’re trying their best. baekjin doesn’t ask why you put them up. but he thinks about how you probably put them up alone—no one else around to help. and for a moment, he almost can’t stop a faint grin from tugging at his lips as he imagined how clumsy you would’ve been, but it’s swallowed by the dim light and his unsaid thoughts.

the rain hasn’t let up, tapping soft against the windows like it’s afraid to interrupt. you’re both wrapped in different ends of the same blanket, quiet now. your breathing steady, his a little more uneven.

in this trivial warmth of the cozy blanket that wrapped around me / i fall asleep waiting for tomorrow again

baekjin doesn’t talk about himself, not at all. he’s the kind of boy who folds in on silence, who carries things so quietly you forget they weigh anything at all. but tonight, something in that boy shifts.

he turns toward you, eyes catching the stars for a second too long.

then, his voice comes out softly, the quietest and most hesitant you’d ever hear him speak: “i don’t think i ever let myself feel like this.”

you blink. “like what?”

he shifts his weight, a small, frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “like it’s okay to just… live like this.” he doesn’t say it outright, but you understand. his voice cracks, just barely.

you roll over to face him and your eyes meet in the dim, “it is okay, baekjin.”

he stares at you for a long moment, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to believe you.

then he exhales. “i want to hate myself a little less than yesterday.”

the loud alarm that rings every morning / i want to hate a little less than yesterday…

he doesn’t say much when he leaves in the morning. just a short nod and a glance that lingers at your door a moment longer than it should. but later, at school, you notice something new.

after a big test, maybe—one that baekjin had crushed, as usual, without breaking a sweat.

a photo strip—creased from being carried around, tucked into the clear back pocket of his phone case. you in heart-shaped sunglasses and his startled smile, next to his test marked 100.

he doesn’t hide it when you see, doesn’t pretend it’s not there.

“you worked hard,” you say softly, voice quieter than usual.

and you’re not just talking about the test score, not really. it’s the way he’s finally letting himself live—if only for a few moments here and there. letting himself be a kid, even if it’s just with you. that’s the secret you hold dearly.

his gaze shifts, and his chest lifts a little at your words. he knows exactly what you mean. it’s not about the paper, not at all.

“it wasn’t easy,” he echoes, voice low, as if the weight of it hasn’t quite settled in yet. “but it wasn’t so bad.”

as i’m heading home, ‘you worked hard’ / that it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t so bad…

and maybe that’s how it starts—an ice cream cone, a bad karaoke duet, and a quiet night under plastic stars.

baekjin doesn’t let people in easily. but after your tutoring sessions, it slowly becomes routine. a few steps slower on the way home, maybe a shared drink at the corner store with his hand brushing yours once, then not pulling away the next time.

he starts showing up without being asked, and starts staying a little longer each time. and eventually, you stop counting how many times he lets himself be part of your world.

and then one afternoon—weeks later, a sky still pale from winter light—you pull out a paper you’ve been hiding all day: a perfect score. red ink, circled on the 100. you hold it out to him sheepishly while he lounges on the floor of your apartment, flipping through a children’s comic book like it’s riveting literature.

“what’s this?” he asks, taking it. his eyes scan the paper, and for the first time since you’ve known him, his eyes that usually held such a stoic, piercing gaze widens, genuinely stunned.

“you—” his voice breaks off, and then suddenly he’s up, paper still in hand, arms wrapping tight around your waist. you let out a startled laugh as your feet lift off the ground.

“you actually did it,” he says, half in disbelief, half in something that sounds suspiciously like pride. “you—god. you did it.”

you blink down at him, never before seeing him so animted. “was that… enthusiasm? from na baekjin?”

he doesn’t let you go, just presses his forehead to your shoulder with a quiet laugh.

“shut up.” but his smile doesn’t fade—not for a long time.

everything will be good, because it’s me…

and from that moment on, na baekjin finally, fully lets you in.

not just as the person who makes him laugh at photo booths or forces him into glittery karaoke rooms, or as a distraction from the union, from the weight he always carries so carefully on his own.

but as something more.

you become his outlet not just for stolen youth, but for something completely new to him—affection.

the kind he never knew how to ask for. the kind that’s soft and lingering, tucked into things like packed snacks on long study days, or the way he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders before you even ask.

na baekjin doesn’t say much, he was never the one for long explanations or complicated conversations.

but when he starts reaching for your hand without thinking, when he leans in a little closer on the bus station as you wait for your bus home, when he lets his gaze linger just a beat longer than it should—you know.

you’re not just something he’s letting himself want, you’re something he’s letting himself have. in the midst of re-discovering his youth, na baekjin discovers you.

cheers to youth

note: i had wayyy too much fun writing this, and creating the gifs !! do you notice how the spark gets stronger? i hope everyone appreciates this little glimpse into what life was like for our before the storm couple. hopefully this healed something in the readers of before the storm, lol. consider this my apology for the pain that bts caused >~<

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[lilliezzzzz-fics]

Domestic life was never quite my style,

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader author's note: alternate title: eating waffles and reminiscing. has any one of you noticed i love fluff,,, because i have. i love fluff. post-retirement!danny how i would love u. no use of y/n, song that inspired this fic: dear theodosia from hamilton warnings: if you squint there's a mild anxiety mention, light identity reflection(?) word count: 1.0k

Daniel had always been attracted to chaos. To life, to the cheers, to the buzzing energy of anything and everything. So when he awoke in the night, gasping for air, and looked around and found you by his side. It was new.

Your still body lying facing him, your serene expression—unfamiliar, yet it was comforting. He felt his racing heartbeat slowly soothe as he shifted closer to you, pulling your body closer to his―he felt calm for the first time in a while; and he thinks he needed that.

Daniel wakes up to the sweet scent of syrup and waffles that morning. The sun glimmers like a prism through the window beside him, accompanied by the sound of the morning birds chirping. And for a moment, he just lies there, taking in the beauty of peace, of quiet. If he were honest, he would stay here forever—he’d let himself sink into the soft, comforting mattress beneath him. And he’d be happy with it. In reality, though, he could never really let that happen.

He shuffles out of bed, letting the sheets remain a mess as he exits the bedroom. It’s far colder out in the living area—almost a sense of sterility flows through the open space, at least in comparison to the warmth left in the bedroom.

A little begrudgingly, he drags himself to the kitchen—to the sound of sizzling, and the thick, sweet scent of syrup, and there stands you. Focused, soft smile, happily cooking—you. He almost felt a little guilty as he slowly laid his hands around your waist. But you didn’t flinch, didn’t even scare—you just hummed. 

Like his arms were molded to fit around you.

“Good morning, Daniel.” You smile.

“G’Mornin’,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck as he presses a soft kiss there, “whatcha makin’?”

You laugh, not loudly nor disruptively. Just a light huff—he already knows. But you still answer.

“Waffles ‘n bacon. I could fry some eggs too, if you’d like?”

“Mmm.” He lets out a complacent hum, nodding a little.

“Alright. Could you get the dinner table ready, then?” Although he can’t see your face, he hears your smile. “Sure.”

His arms droop down to his sides as he lets go, sleep still weighing on his shoulders. Sagging, just slightly, he leans over your head to open the cabinet filled with your plates. He winces at the clanking noises they make as he picks up two of them, dragging them almost lazily out of the cabinet. 

As he put cutlery on the table, it didn’t even cross his mind that this was just another task. Monotonous, repetitive—boring, even. But it didn’t feel that way. Not when he listened to your humming, and just knowing you're there—feeling your presence.

“You gonna sit down, Danny?” You ask, a laugh underlining your words.

“Oh, yeah- shit, sorry, zoned out.” He replies with a half-hearted laugh.

He exhales softly as he sits. You’re still at the counter, plating food and talking—telling him there’s more waffles if he wants. But he’s not listening to the words. He’s too busy looking at you.

When you finally find your place in front of him, there’s a wide, goofy smile plastered on Daniel’s face, one you’re not quite sure what to make of, so you only smile back. 

“What’s got you in such a smiley mood, Ricciardo?” You ask, poking around in your food—eyes still trained on him, smile still present.

“Can’t I smile now?” he lets out a bark of a laugh, “I‘m just admiring ya. You know, you look real pretty when you’re focused.”

“You smooth-talker,” you tut, shaking your head, “just eat your food.”

His smile turns into a grin, one bearing his teeth in that signature Daniel way—but he complies. The breakfast was nice. Better than any he’d have in the hotel or team hospitality. What was that one saying? Food always tastes better when shared, or something. And god, is it corny, but it feels so impossibly true. When sitting, even in silence, with you, it tastes better than any meal he’s ever had.

Before he knew it, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and it had shifted into the afternoon. An orange color painted the sky, and you’d left to do some errands—leaving Daniel all alone in the still of your shared apartment. He decided to pass the time watching something on TV, letting himself sink onto the couch, and hearing the click! as the TV turned on. 

He let himself scroll through the Netflix home page for a while, eyes scanning over the recommended series and movies, nothing really catching his eye. His limbs spilling over the couch, eyes lazily scanning the screen, he saw it—Drive to Survive. The show that’d been a constant in his career, or well, from 2018 forward, at the very least. Hovering over the show, it auto-played the beginning of the newest season's episode.

Former colleagues, friends, people he never wanted to see again. 

He didn’t move. He let the familiar sound of roaring engines fill the room, the all-too-familiar voices spill into the air like static in an otherwise still apartment. It felt odd, watching this when he wasn’t still a driver. Faces he knew, moments he quite literally experienced—but they weren’t really his, not anymore anyway. It’s a different version of him, One that still chased podiums and adrenaline—who chased wins. Not thinking about the casual things in life. 

He would say he misses it, because he does—but, not in the same way. He misses driving a little, misses messing with teammates and having fun. But not the sport. Not really. 

His finger flexes as he holds the remote, debating to switch show—but he lets it continue to play for just a while longer.

It was kind of funny, actually. Seeing himself through a lens, edited and dramatized, was like watching a character he used to play. And now, here he was—on a worn-in couch, in a shirt he hadn’t raced in, surrounded by the scent of you and maple syrup, and not a single thought about racing.

Eventually, he paused the show. Let the screen dim down, its reflection in the glass of the coffee table. He leaned back, arms stretched across the cushions. He hadn’t realised how much he’d tensed after it started until he let himself breathe again.

Then he heard the front door jingle open. Your voice calling out a casual, “I’m back!”

And he smiled.

“Hey, babe,” he called back. “You missed the most dramatic episode of DTS yet. Didn’t even throw a punch.”

©lilliezzzzz-fics: please don't copy or distribute my work on any platform

credits: @/cafekitsune for the dividers <3

taglist: @toodeepintofandoms

[hangryyell]

Sweet Treats Sweet Prizes

Trigger warnings: Unprotected piv, creampies, choking, bush, virginOC, missionary

Word count: 7,465

(Author’s note: This started all because I started the second season! So if you haven’t watched the first episode of season 2 this is kind of a spoiler! Viewer discretion is advised! Also I’m writing this as if the problems don’t really exist cause I just want a happy family of Joel and Eillie, sue me lol. Enjoy my horny ramblings as a fat woman it just makes my mouth water thinking Joel doesn’t really have a type and treats all bodies like bodies. This is for the big men and women out there!)

It was Gail’s birthday and your scheduled appointment. You walk up the stairs to her house with a plate of cookies, and go to open the door and it opened first. Out stepped Joel Miller, the pretty texan man that arrived in Jackson five years ago, the one you’ve been crushing on for three of those five years. It was hard not to, he was rough around the edges, who wasn’t during an apocalypse like this, he was kind regardless of the rumors you’ve heard about him. The way he loved Ellie, put her first before him made sure she had everything she could to live a good life here.

“Joel, hello.” you greet him, his hazel eyes dart up to you and then the plate of cookies before going back. He grumbled a soft hello.

“You are welcome to some, I don’t think Gail will notice.” you tell him with a smile, plate held out to him. Like a scared deer he takes some cookies and gives a nod.

“Thank ya’.” he bites into one and closes his eyes at the taste. “Thank you.” he repeates, mouth full of chocolate chip cookie. You chuckle at his reaction.

“Of course, save some for Ellie if you can.” you try and remind him. Joel gave another nod and then made his way back home.

Your session with Gail went smooth, the “normal” talk about being a bigger woman, having insecurities when getting close to those you find attractive.

“You have got to step out of your comfort zone, push the envelope. You never know who out there will treat you like a normal person.” Gail explained. You chew your bottom lip at that, it’s just easier to not be intimate with anyone, keep them at bay and just stay friends.

“I-I don’t know.” you say softly, hands clasped together in your lap. Gail stares at you, long and hard getting her point across.

“You’re grown I can’t make you do anything. It could be fun though. Should try it.” she pushed a little, voice softer than before. Being burned so many times, just seen as a hole and not a person is what’s kept you from even trying to date in Jackson. Yet one set of eyes always catches yours, hazel, stern, cradled in crows feet.

“Okay, maybe. I’ll get someone a drink at the party this weekend.” you tell her, feeling your hair touch the back of your neck making you shudder.

“There we go, that sounds like a good plan. Bring some of your sweets, theres a small murmur about them throughout Jackson.” Gail said.

You shake your head, “my sweets are for those that are worthy. I’m not baking just for anyone.”

“Me, Joel, Ellie, Tommy and Maria? We’re the worthy ones?” Gail counters.

You open your mouth to say something and then close it, heat burning your cheeks. She was right, Tommy and Maria always have you bake their cakes for their birthdays, for Benjamin's birthday. And Joel...Joel you've been pumping full of sweets for as long as you can remember.

"Fine, fine, fiiine. I'll bring Danishes." you huff at her. Hands unclasping to let the heel of your hand dig into your plump thighs. "Good, good." Gail's timer went off at that exact moment. "Well, our time is done, I'll see you next week." "Enjoy your cookies and have a happy birthday." you get up off the couch and give her a half smile and leave. Still a lot to think about, even though this has been a topic you've been going over with her for weeks almost months at this point. Gail's door closes behind you and off you go back to your house. It was still early, you quickly make a list for things to get to bake for the party this weekend. "Get out of my comfort zone. They call it a comfort zone for a reason. It's comfortable." you mumble to yourself as you look around your quiet living room. You rub your face, sighing, "fine. FINE!" You grab your house keys and leave, locking the door behind you.

You just let your feet take you where you want to go without thinking about it before you chickened out. I can do it. I can do this. I've killed infected! Been taken hostage and this is the scariest thing I can think of? You think to yourself as your pushing open the door to the bar.

There wasn't many people there. Oh thank god. You spot a couple of people probably just getting home from patrol, understandable to want a strong drink. Your eyes land on someone off in the corner, you'd traced those shoulders with your eyes a thousand times, the salt and pepper hair, glasses and a newspaper. Joel. "There goes the comfort zone." you mumble to yourself as you make your way to the bar. Feeling eyes on you made your eyes stick to the floor or right ahead. You were wearing jeans, boots and a thick sweater, being around town you tended to keep the jacket for when you're out of Jackson. Even in the winter you overheated easily. Ordering yourself a drink and take a spot at one end of the bar. It was tough to try and keep your eyes to yourself when you could see him from here. Stop being a creep and go over and talk. You thought. Finishing your first drink you order a second and drink about half of it before getting one for Joel. Taking both cups, you walk over. "I-I thought you could use another drink from a pretty lady." came from your mouth as you set his down in front of him and slid into the chair on the other side of his table.

Joel looks up from the newspaper he's reading, glasses on the tip of his nose. "Pretty woman you are yes. A second drink though? I don't know." he gave you a half smile and a quick wink before taking his glasses off. Heat filled your cheeks at that wink. Oh will you calm down, it wasn't anything crazy!

"Oh come on, are you driving?" you teased as you sipped your second drink slower than before. "Did you save some for Ellie? You did take three cookies." Joel looked down into the new cup you brought him to dodge the question.

"Girl like her don't need sugar." he countered. You couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Guess I'm just gonna have to make some for just her." you threaten lightly.

Joel met your eyes this time, "oh you don't hav'ta do that. I'm sure there will be plenty for her to share."

You laugh at that response and nod. "Alright, you've pulled my arm, I'll make a batch for the both of you to share. Okay Joel? Sharing." the elder made a face at having to share and nodded nonetheless.

He mumbled, "I guess."

You stare down into your cup. Come on, just say it! Just ask! Worst he could do is say no. Just ask. You take a deep breath. "Look, yes I came to bring you a drink, cause I'm sure in some compacity you need it, or want to enjoy a quiet night. I have ulterior motives with my bringing it to you." you start. When you finally look up from your cup Joel is staring intently.

"More than okay to say no, my feelings will be hurt and that's my own probl-"

He cuts you off, "I'm old baby, get to the point before I expire." Heat warms your cheeks once more at just him calling you baby. Will you grow up! It's just a playful nickname he calls every younger woman!

"Yeah, right, right. So I want to get out of my comfort zone and be intimate with someone and you are the first, well only person that came to mind. And completely fine if you don't want to, I get it. Me being a fat girl, it's tou-"

Joel scoffs cutting you off, "that's a stupid excuse to tell ya no. I'm a grown man, bigger gal means I can just use you harder."

Every thought you had left your brain, your mouth closed as it watered at his words. You take a couple more sips from your drink, stomach rolling as what Joel said continued to replay in your head over and over.

"You alright?" Joel asked, waving a hand towards you to get your attention back.

"Y-y-yeah, yeah I'm fine..." you start and then shake your head. "No, I'm not alright, you didn't have to word it that way." your cheeks feel like you could cook an egg on them.

Joel huffed a laugh. "It's true, no need to beat around the bush. Now go ahead, get to yer point."

You lick your lips. "In short you are the first that comes to mind when the thought of sleeping with someone." you finish off your drink after that. "I would very much like to sleep with you Mr. Miller."

Hazel eyes just stare at you as he takes in your words; leans back in his chair. "Me?" was what was asked next.

"Yes you Joel."

"Me? Why me?" he questions more. He didn't sound disgusted, just really very confused.

Chewing your bottom as you literally couldn't even think of a lie what was the point? "Honestly? You're a smart, funny, attractive man, the relationship you and Ellie have." you start. "In short I have a crush on you, everyone but you knows, so yeah."

There wasn't anything left in your cup, so you resulted to putting your hands in your lap, wringing your fingers one by one. One of your legs shaking as you just waited for an answer.

"Me?" he still sounded confused. "A crush? For how long? And what do you mean everyone else knows but me?" there it is.

You look down at your lap as if you'd been scolded. "Three or so years." you trail off quietly.

Joel runs fingers through his hair and takes you in. A smile spreads across his face as he chuckles. Great now I'm being laughed at. Fuck you Gail and your fucking getting out of your comfort zone.

"I am very dense." came from Joel. "Ellie, she told me I'm dense when it comes to things like this." he chuckled again.

"I could of also said something, so it's on both ends." you try and counter.

"Yeah, but the food should have been my clue though. Breads, cakes, cookies, turnovers, left over soup, stews." he listed.

“I bake for others.” you try and counter and Joel shook his head.

“No the girl told me about you having a crush on me, I just took it as you being nice. Feeding us.” the elder explained. “I’m old baby, like maybe ten years tops. You really want a piece of me?”

“I think old age would be too peaceful for you Joel.” you tease. The texan huffed a laugh at that and nodded. “But yeah, yeah I definitely want a piece of you. It doesn’t have to be a full blown relationship, bu-“

Joel cuts you off again, “but you’d love for me to write my name inside ya huh?” he picked his cup up and drank, letting his question stew.

You shook your head. “Joel Miller. Where is all this language coming from?” the question is out of your mouth before you can even stop it. You liked it, of course you did.

The brunet laughed a little harder than before. "Just like to see you speechless, another clue that should of tipped me off." he countered.

“You can have me darlin’, we’ll just go with the flow.” cup in hand Joel finished the rest of his drink.

“Alright.” was all you said, really wanting another drink or just something to do with your hands. You look down at the table with empty cups. “Uh, could I put a rush on that delivery?” you ask. Joel gives you a smirk and nods.

“Oh you weren’t going home tonight after telling me that.” the brunet explained. Your stomach filled with liquid heat and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together. Now noticing how wet you were. Your cheeks back to burning again.

“Good actually.” you try and get the courage up to say anything remotely as lewd as Joel. Your brain was already short circuiting from this whole interaction.

"I'll take the cups up then and we can get out of here." you stack the cups and bring them back up to the bar.

"Thank you. I'll be back this weekend for the party." you tell Seth.

"Z? Coming to a shindig at the Tipsy Bison? Very rare." Seth teased.

"Yeah, well I'm trying to be better at socializing." you shrug. "Have a good night." you turn to head back to the table you and Joel had shared and found he wasn't there anymore. You looked over to the coat rack, catching Joel pulling on his jacket.

"Are you coming for the thing this weekend?" came the question as you opened the door and followed Joel out of the Bison.

"Maybe, probably to just drop Ellie off and grab myself a plate of food." the elder shrugged about it. "Oh I forgot to ask m-"

"We can go to yours." you cut him off. "Don't want to make you have to head from the other side of town. Old bones in the cold and all." you toss in to tease him.

Joel scoffed at that, "I may be old, I ain't that damn old."

You followed Joel back to his house; you've made this trail a lot over the years. The reality of the situation actually clicking now, you start to play with your fingers as you walk into Joel's open door. He closed the door behind the two of you. "Take your shoes off, make yourself at home." came from the elder as he hung his jacket up.

"Alright." you say softly, kicking your boots off, dropping off in about an inch and a half in height. "I should mention...I," you start, chewing your bottom lip. Joel looks at you, gesturing towards the stairs of his house, large hand on the small of your back. Your skin grew hot under his palm, stomach in your throat.

"Take your time." came the soft reply as you both climbed the stairs. He leads you to his room, the bed unmade, a thick book about space on one of his bedside tables. The way his hand traveled along your spine made you shudder, goosebumps rose under your shirt.

"I’ma virgin." you spit out, coasting further into his room. Unfortunately putting more distance between you.

Joel watched you leave his side and walk away from him. A soft chuckle came from him. "How old are you darlin'?" he questioned, hands settling on his hips to look at you.

"I'm thirty five this fall." you reply, chewing your bottom lip. "I've read enough books to know what I'm kind of doing, I mean there's enough DVDs at the library if I'm being honest. I’m also real good at direction..." you ramble. You didn't notice Joel moved closer, reaching to take your hands that you had been playing with the whole time as you spoke.

"You're alright Zuri. We’ll take it slow, at any point you need me to stop I’ll stop.” Joel explains softly. “And if yer into me not stopping when you say, well, we can get into that next time.” the elder chuckled.

Your brain short circuited from that last sentence, heat filling your stomach again just thinking about that. “Next time?” you say.

Joel looked at you, still smiling. “Darlin’ I’m simple. You have kept me fed and showered with treats. I’ve been smitten too.” came his reply. “You think one time gonna be enough?”

You open your mouth and then close it, shaking your head in agreement. "No, no I don't think one time would be enough." came the quiet reply.

"We can go slow, sum kissin', touching where you're comfortable. You tell me when it's okay to continue." Joel outlined, still letting his thumbs run along the back of your hands. He was warm, the heat coming off him made it feel that all the ice you've kept up was slowly thawing.

"Now 'fore you try and tell me how I should be feelin' about this, I wanna kiss you." the elder gently teased, pulling you closer. His large hands settled on your hips and moved nowhere else.

"When I tell you I've been thinking about that for so long." you laugh, leaning forward to press your lips to his, hands cupping the sides of his face. The feel of his facial hair against your palm helped to know this was actually real. You open your mouth to him, Joel wastes no time in claiming you, tongues dancing, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when you try to pull away for air. God, he tastes just how I thought. Coffee, whiskey, and my cookies. You think to yourself as the kiss turns desperate the longer it continues, soft hums and groans coming from the elder had your stomach churning.

One of your hands move up into his hair, gently gripping at the nape of his neck. You pull away for air fully this time, your bottom lip swollen, your heart hammering, your underwear absolutely soaked. "This okay?" came the question from Joel as one of his hands on your hips moves, sliding up along your side to rest on your back. It almost made you want to pull away, having someone close to your rolls always made you uncomfortable. It being Joel, him asking just made you melt a little. You nod and press yourself closer to him.

"Good. How about this?" his other hand is moving before he finishes and that warm hand cups one of your plump cheeks, squeezing and helping you fit closer to him. It sends a shiver through you straight to your cunt.

"Y-yeah, that's fine." you tell him in a soft voice. Joel leans forward to kiss you again, a soft hum coming from him as he explores your mouth once more. The elder pulls from the kiss this time, lips make a trail along your cheek, jaw and down to your throat. The scratch of his facial hair made you squirm with a soft giggle; it tickled and also lit a fire.

You stare behind Joel as he's nuzzling into your skin, the scraping of his beard just continued to send a thrill through you. His teeth lightly nipping the skin, sometimes sucking a mark into you. Your neck was your weak spot and gods did Joel hit every mark. "F-fuck." you pant quietly against his shoulder, tugging his hair.

After switching to the other side of your neck he marked that one. A muffled moan escaping your mouth as you pressed into his shoulder to keep quiet. "I wanna hear everythin' you gots to say." Joel rasped in your ear, breath ghosting along your neck. When the brunet finally pulled from your neck you could still feel his teeth and tongue.

You lick your lips and just stare at his mouth. "You okay to keep going?" came the question.

"Yes please." you hum, nodding your head along with your answer. "I'm so fucking wet." your eyes dart up to his this time.

Joel's chuckling next, "good to hear."

You let your hands smooth along his shoulders and down his chest before they're settled at your sides again. "How do you want me cowboy?" you ask with a little smile, now the nerves kicking back in. Joel reached for you, gently tugging the hem of your sweater. "Yeah, that would be helpful." you agree, pulling the sweater up over your head and letting it pile on the floor. The shirt you had on was a crop top, your nipples were hard pressing through the fabric. Your stomach rolled over the top of the jeans you were wearing, stretch marks on display. The want to try and cover up; now that the pullover was gone was so damn strong.

Joel gave you a little smile, reaching to take his own shirt off it met the same fate as your first layer. He had a couple more layers than you did, he had you help him with some of them. The final one you bit the bullet, running your hands up under the fabric feeling hot skin dusted with hair; you were sure salt and pepper just like the hair on his head. You pushed the garment off and found the answer to your question.

The palms of your hands smoothed over his chest and arms, you could feel the muscle, you'd seen this man take on a couple of infected alone; regardless of the old age he complains so much about. Joel's hands went to your hips again, pulling you closer, letting his hands wander along your back, your ass, tease under your crop top. The callous feel of his hands on you had goosebumps rising on any ounce of skin that was exposed to the air.

"Let's get rid of these." came from Joel, reaching to remove his jeans. You watched and then did the same, undoing the button and pushing the zipper down. Your jeans hugged every inch of you, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out of them. Under you wore a pair of boyshorts, they also hugged you in all the right places. You squeezed your thighs together, thoughts of how many different ways this could go. Cheeks heating as embarrassment also flooded your brain. You chewed your bottom lip as you took a deep breath and just pulled the crop top up and over.

Joel looked you over and gave you a smile. "My, can't wait to see what you taste like." he drawled. You blushed at that, the way his words felt like hands along your body. The elder took your hand and led you on over to his bed. You turned the tables on him and pushed him onto the bed. Joel smirked up at you, he was hard and already staining his boxers. You squat in front of him between his legs, hands gliding along his legs, up his thighs. You catch how his muscles tense as you touch him.

Seeing him standing at attention like that had your mouth watering. This wouldn’t be your first time doing this, you were pretty good you’d say so yourself. You wrap a hand around Joel, he jumped in your hand, he was thick and hot and throbbing. Leaning down to let your tongue lick him through his boxers, right where he’s made a mess of himself. He’s musky, almost earthy to you in his taste. A soft groan comes from him, his hands fisting the sheets on his bed to keep them to himself.

Joel shuddered, “Should take these off baby.” You look up at him, those pretty hazel eyes dark with want, his lips swollen from all the kissing you did. Letting his length go you take off his boxers and see him spring to action.

“Oh.” You gasp softly, seeing him now he’s big. You reach to take hold of him again, he jumps once more. He’s smooth in your hand, you can touch your fingers around, tip of your middle finger to the underside of the tip of your thumb. You lean forward, nipples catching the dusting of hair along his thighs it rose goosebumps on your skin. Joel reached forward to take one of them in his hands, rolling your nipple between his index finger and thumb. You hum at the feel of those callous fingers abusing the nub. Licking your lips you lick up the elder’s shaft, loving the feel of him, you suck and lick until you can get the tip into your mouth. Swirling the muscle around him, feeling him gush in your mouth. You close your eyes and enjoy this, taking more of him, the weight of him on your tongue is everything to you.

A groan from the brunet above you. “Fuck baby.” Joel watched intently, your free hand coming to cup his balls as you took more of him into your mouth. His free hand came around to help keep your hair out of the way. You started to finally bob your head, tongue teasing the underside of his shaft. You kept your eyes on him as you took more of him into your mouth, gagging and coughing, slurping and moaning. He spread his legs wider and you got closer, closing your eyes now to savor this. Moaning around him had the elder cursing under his breath.

“You keep up like that and I ain’t gonna last long to be inside ya.” came from Joel, he was breathing hard, his cheeks were red. You finally pull off, licking your lips and seeing how sloppy and wet he was now. You were soaking wet, if you didn’t have your underwear on your juices would be making a mess of your thighs by now.

Joel patted the bed. “Come on up, it’s your turn to be tasted.” your stomach rolled at that, chewing your bottom lip you get to your feet. The elder hums softly looking you over again, he leans forward to kiss along your stomach, large hands fondle your thighs and sides. Then he’s taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You card fingers through his hair, earning a moan from him, he sucked harder and added some pressure with his teeth.

“O-oh fuck.” you pant, leaning into him. His hands coming up to cup your ass and press you closer. He switches nipples and abuses the other one, lightly raking your nails along his scalp has him working harder and biting hard on this nub. “J-just like that.” you whimper. Those calloused hands continue to touch and grope your thighs like he wanted you to sit on him. Just from the way he was holding you could feel his strength, that he could possibly be able to take your weight. Joel pulled from your breast and started to kiss along the valley between them, hands coming up to cup your breasts and tease both nubs at the same time now.

“J-Joel please.” you whine, squeezing your thighs together. You felt so damn empty and so fucking wet. He looks up at you and nods, pulling away and letting you get on the bed. He had you lay with your head on his pillows, large hands roamed along your calfs, lips kiss and nip skin as they go higher along your limbs. You can’t help but squirm, it still felt weird to have someone touching you like this. Joel spread your legs slowly when he needed room, callous finger tips brushed your inner thighs, lips kissed your fupa.

“It’s alright.” came the soft words from Joel. “I’ll talk you through this part. I’m gonna be a tease and play with you through your underwear.” He spread your legs wider, not being able to help himself from pressing his face into one of your inner thighs, kissing, gently biting. All of it went straight to your cunt, your hands stood at your sides, grabbing the sheets under you to have something to do with your hands.

You stutter, “D-do you want me to do anything?”

Joel shook his head. “Nope, just sit back and enjoy, if ya want me ta stop I will.” you nod your head and just look down and watch him. Your stomach rolled with nerves. It’s okay, we’ve gotten this far, he hasn’t done or said anything to make you uncomfortable, we got this. You thought to yourself as you watched. Joel switches thighs and does the same thing, you want to squeeze your thighs together so bad. Just seeing his board shoulders between your legs has you throbbing like never before.

“Alright, I’m gonna start usin’ my hands and mouth okay?” the brunet looked up at you, arms curling the underside of your thighs to hold you open for him. His fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, another show of strength you felt if you tried to move you wouldn’t be able to. That made your cunt throb, god you never thought you’d be into something like that.

You whine, squirming in his hold. “Joel please.” those hazel eyes crinkled, cradled by more crows feet as he chuckled softly. He bent and lightly licked you through your underwear, the feel of that heat had you gasping softly. Your legs tried to close around him, his hold held fast and that just made you squirm even more.

"Fuckin' soakin'. This all for me?" he questioned. You watched his eyes dart down to see the mess you were making in your underwear. This man was going to be the death of you, you knew it. You let go of the sheets you had been gripping since you got into this position. Joel continued to tease you with his tongue, his nose brushing your clit through the fabric. The feel of electricity that went through you, you could see his eyes look up at you when he heard an intake of breath. He did it again, this time pointing his tongue to abuse that bundle of nerves. The way your legs threatened to close very time, the curses falling from your mouth, one of your hands reaching to grab one of Joel's wrists. The other hand taking hold of the sheets once more. Your legs shook in his grip, wanting so bad to close around his head. He stroked your folds through the damp fabric, not letting up no matter how much you tried to move away from him he followed.

"Where you goin'?" he started, "Show's 'bout to start." his voice ran over your body in a wave then went straight to your core. Joel pulled away, letting your legs go. "Keep those open." the elder ordered, just as you were about to try and hide. He stood on his knees before you. He helped you pull your underwear down and tossed them to the floor like the rest of your clothes.

Joel got back into position, this time lifting one of your legs to go over his shoulder. Your instinct was to try and pull away cause of course your leg was definitely too heavy for him. "Ah, no. I'm a big boy, I can take it." he told you. What the fuck? Can he read my mind?

The elder chuckled, "Your face kinda gets this look like you're scared." He kissed along your stomach, hands soothing over skin on your thighs, your hips and stomach as well. It made you shiver at the feel of those rough hands touching you. He settled back between your legs, the leg not over his shoulder is kind of pushed to the side to open you up a little. You chew your bottom lip, the last time you got this far you having not shaved was an issue. Nothing from Joel yet, you were waiting for it.

"Yer fine princess, trust me. Ain’t no bush hurt anyone."

You finally let your bottom lip go, eyes darting down to the man between your legs. Joel didn't wait for an answer, he spread your folds open and you felt the first swipe of the flat of his tongue. The contrast between your pubic hair and his facial hair had your stomach doing summer salts. He didn't stop, tongue swirling around that bundle of nerves this time before he puckered his lips and sucked.

"O-oh!" came the quiet gasp from you. You watched as Joel didn't come up for air, the feel of his nose taking up the mantel for his tongue. "F-fuck." you curse, hips trying to press into his face more. Joel took that sign to press himself closer, hands slipping between your ass and bed cupping your cheeks to hold you there so there was no space between the two of you. The hand that had been gripping the sheets came around and ran through his hair, a groan came from him. You watched as he rutted into the bed as he continued to please you.

Your stomach tightened, mouth falling open as his tongue started to dart into and swirl around where you wanted him the most right now. Fingers tightening your grip in his hair had him doubling his efforts now, the sounds of him groaning and slurping whatever juices he brought to the surface. Your legs shook as he continued to devour you slowly, he took his time. Toes curling, arching into his mouth, soft moans and curses falling from your lips. That first orgasm hit you slow and hard.

"Fuuck Joel!" you sobbed, he held you as you shook apart right in front of him. Legs finally able to close around him, rutting against his face. Nails sank into his shoulder, marking him. You either wanted him closer for more, or to push him away from too much. You just wanted him inside you now for the love of God. The elder finally came up for air, beard covered in your juices, panting and licking his lips.

"That was appetizers baby. You're gettin' the main course soon. It makes it a little easier, won't hurt too much." he explained. Joel wiped his face and got to his knees once more, he took you in. He bent and kissed up your stomach and along your breasts before meeting your lips. You kissed him back lazily, your body felt like jello, small after shocks went through. When Joel pulled away from the kiss you stared up at him, catching your breath.

“Mr. Miller I need you inside right fucking now.”

The elder chuckled, “Alright, alright. It’s gonna be a little uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care, I want to be filled.” you demand.

Joel gives you a smile at that, “Yes ma’am.”

The elder moves towards you, one of your legs pressed against him, he kisses your ankle. Joel takes your other leg and looks at you. “I need you to hold this one for me baby.”

“Okay,” came your answer as you wrapped your arm around your leg and brought it towards your chest.

Joel praised you, “Jus like that, very good.”

“Fuck look at you. Making a mess of my sheets.” he licks his lips as he just stares. He takes cock in hand and gently slides himself through your folds. A groan came from him at how wet and hot you feel. You moan as the tip of him brushes your clit, nails sinking into the underside of the thigh you were holding.

“P-please, please Joel.” you whine, staring up into his face pleading. “Fuck me, write your name inside me like you said.” you bite your bottom lip as your cunt throbs empty and neglected.

The brunet meets your gaze, nodding as he gently slaps your folds with his length a couple of times. The sound of how wet and ready you were had you squirming under him again. He hits your clit and your eyes are darting back down between you. You wanted to watch him disappear inside you.

“Please, want you so bad. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me please.” you beg. Your free hand slides between you and you take hold of his cock, pushing his hand out of the way. You rub him against you some more before the tip of his dick was catching on your hole.

“Right here please Joel?” you ask eyes meeting his face again. The elder groans at the feel of you and nods.

“Alright baby, I gotta go slow though. Going in all at once is gonna hurt.” his voice is husky, you can feel him throbbing in your hand. The leg pressed against him he pushes it back towards you by the back of your knee. He does this with the other, you feel him probing your entrance.

You didn’t hear a damn thing that man said all you were focused on was your core. He took the leg you were holding and did the same. You reached with your free hand now and spread your slick folds for him. “Right here, want you so deep I can taste you please.” you desperately ramble.

Joel groans as he watches you spread yourself for him. “Fuck baby. Want me so bad.” he groaned. He slowly started to feed you inch by inch. Your mouth fell open at the stretch, it was uncomfortable yeah, but after what felt like hours being empty it was perfect,

“Yesss.” you hiss, nodding. “D-don’t stop I want it all.” You reach for his hips to pull him closer, feeling more of him sink into you. The sharp pain was nothing compared to any other pain you've gotten, shot, stabbed, this added to the pleasure of being filled.

“Jesus christ Zuri.” he groans as he finally bottoms out and his hips are pressed to you. You moan as your filled completely, your hands run along his sides and up his chest. You couldn’t breathe it was so much and still felt like not enough. Joel pulled out a little then thrust back in. A moan falls from your lips. He does it again then again.

“Shit princess pussy grippin’ me so tight.” he pants watching himself disappear inside you. The sound of how soaked this man had you was music to your ears; you bit your bottom lip to keep quiet eyes fluttering close as you just enjoy the feel of him.

“Ah, I wanna hear you.” his hips stop moving and you whine. Your eyes open and you meet that heated gaze. “I don’t want you quiet.”

“O-okay, okay. I won’t be quiet please.” your eyes are locked on where you two were connected. Joel turned his head and kissed your calf as he started up another slow pace. You nodded watching him slide in and out of you. More curses and moans fell from your lips, soft breaths of his name. Just like before with his mouth he was taking his sweet ass time. Your hands roamed along his stomach and chest, nails gently raking his sides. The elder hissed at that, pressing his hips into you, trying to get himself as deep as possible. You nod, licking your lips as you stare up at him. Joel moans as he slides out, letting one of your legs go to settle on the bed. Your eyes dart back down between you and shake your head, reaching for his hips.

"No, where you goin'?" you question huskily, eyes meeting his again. The elder takes hold of his cock and slaps your folds again. A whimper leaves you, one of your hands reaching down to circle your clit with your index and middle finger as he teased you.

"Baby girl 'M 'bout damn near close to cummin'," he explained. Large hands glided along your body as he continued to rut against you. The slick slide of him between your folds drove you absolutely crazy.

You shake your head. "What happened to using me harder?' you asked. His hazel eyes met yours when you asked that.

"Fuck me into the bed Mr. Miller, wanna feel you long after you're done with me." you express. Something in his eyes told you he took that challenge. You reached for his arms and pulled him closer to wrap your arms around his neck; lips trailed a line along his throat, you kissed the skin there.

"Gonna be the death of me sweetheart." he panted against your shoulder. He pulled away just enough to kiss you, exploring your mouth once more. You reach between the two of you and line his cock up with your pussy. Joel slides back in and groans into your mouth. He pulled for air and to watch again as he sank into you over and over.

You sob, "Yes, harder. Fuck me harder Joel."

The brunet’s pace was slow deliberate, he slipped one of his arms under one of your legs to open you up a little more. The sound of your juices making both of you a mess, the feel of his balls teasing your puckered hole with every thrust. You moaned as he filled you again and again, hands settling on his biceps to hold on, to have something to do with your hands.

“H-harder please,” you whine staring up into his face. Joel nodded and started to ramp up his thrusts, soon he was pounding you into his bed. “Y-yes, yes, yes, yes.” you chant, nails sinking into his skin, your head nodding along. The leg that wasn’t being manipulated by Joel you wrapped around him wanting him closer if that were possible. The sound of Joel groaning into your breasts, the squelching from your weeping cunt as he pummeled your insides with his cock.

“Don’t stop, please so close, so close Joel.” you pant. You babbled to him, moaning loudly as he bit into one of your breasts. The elder sat up a little, hips never wavering. Hazel eyes taking in the mess between you two.

“Fuck baby, pussy makin’ a mess of me.” he licked his lips.

“I’ma try sum sweetheart let me know if you want me to stop.” came from Joel, he was panting. You nod starting up at him just whispering don’t stop. One of his hands came up and wrapped around your throat, he groaned as your cunt squeezed him at that. Your heart hammered in your chest at the feel of his large warm hand holding you by the neck.

“T-tighter,” you whimper, hand coming to grab his wrist. “Please.”

Joel tightens his hold. Your stomach rolls with want, you were so close. You close your eyes with your blood flow being hindered and him drilling into you. Finally that cord snapped and you came with a shout, nails digging into Joel’s wrist and bicep. He lets go of your leg and throat, you continue to babble his name. The elder cursed and kept going now chasing his own high.

“D-don’t you dare pull out.” you rasp looking up at him. His resolve was crumbling in front of you, he bent and kissed you quiet as his hips stilled and he filled you with a groan. Your legs tightened around him holding the texan to you, your arms going around his neck. When he pulled from the kiss he was panting, catching his breath.

“Holy shit.” came from the brunet as he laid on top, his full weight sinking into you.

“Holy shit is right,” you slur eyes still closed as your heart beat returns to normal. Hands roamed along his shoulders and back as you two laid there in the aftermath.

“I am so sorry for your sheets.” you apologize.

“Shut up.” Joel huffed a laugh. “Means you enjoyed yaself I’m not complaining.”

It was quiet for a little the room cooled, sweat dried on the both of you. Joel had closed his eyes and listened to your heart beat.

“Joel?! JOEL IS EVERYTHING OKAY?!” came from across the room. The elder jumped a little hearing his name being called. He wiped his face and sat up.

“No, don’t get up yet.” you whine, letting your hands drop to your stomach, legs falling open as he pulled out with a hiss. He went to the dresser where you can see a walkie talkie on it.

“Ellie, everything is fine.”

“I heard screaming, you sure everything’s fine?” came her reply. Your cheeks warmed from embarrassment at her words. You were so loud! Ellie fucking heard from the garage.

“Everything is fine. Just have a lady friend over.” Joel explained, shaking his head.

It was silent for a couple of seconds. “Oh…I’ll play a record then bye!”

Joel chuckled and turned the walkie off, stretching bones popping and a groan coming from the elder. You couldn’t move even if you tried to. Your legs felt like jello, your brain was still mush after that.

“You alright darlin’?” drawled the texan.

“Just a couple minutes,” you slur, turning onto your side cuddling into the pillow you were laying on. Joel watched as you got comfy a chuckle leaving him as he walked over.

“Take all the time ya need sweet.” he said letting his hand run along your thigh and pat your cheek. “Showers all yours when you need it.”

You yawn, “Thank you.” You nuzzle into his bed and end up falling asleep.

@munsonmondays @sincity60 @neverneedyeverlovelyjul @honey-flustered @perfectlytenacioushologram @staley83 @xo-maddie-xo @saucyplague7432

Criticism is loved:) enjoy!!

[rei-ismyname]

Teen Cyclops gets hit with EMOTIONS 🫠😭🤩🥹😬🥴

AKA I get emotions too, linking and contrasting theory + my disability experience with Scott's.

Yung Cyke is loving his time away from the X-Men and the freedom it allows him to *loosen up.* Lacking context, The Champions view him as repressed and phlegmatic in the extreme. They're right, but he's not an old man - he's just a kid who went from constant trauma to a life of intense responsibility. I think Seinfeld is cringe, but I'm aware that many many people enjoyed it. Scott liking it is more a sign of his time displacement than anything else, though I do wonder if he identifies with any of the characters. Hints of Costanza, most likely. Not sure any are a great fit - what do you think? Newman?

Anyway, my point is that he is benefiting from his newly expanded social circle but The Champions are not Danger Room kids. They don't know that this IS Slim getting out of his comfort zone. A fake moustache isn't the most complicated costume, but you'd never see 'leader of the X-Men' Scott do it. He probably wouldn't even join them, assuming Chuck let them out for Halloween. Kamala and Miles want to see get inside that brain - let's see how they respond when they get their wish.

The catalyst is this jerkoff - Psycho Man. He's a long story, let's just simplify it by saying that he has a machine that fucks with people's emotions. He's using it nefariously until Scott blasts it to pieces and demands his surrender. He flees instead, but Scott has been affected by it and opens his Pandora's Box of repression.

The Champions know something is off when Scott abandons his indoor voice and starts ... acting up. When he smashed the machine some feedback hit him right in the pineal gland or hippocampus, unlocking his emotions on a primal level. Anger and adrenaline flood through him and everyone realises they're in for some X-Men shit. Well, they don't know that at all actually, but the vibe of a dam about to burst is clear and present.

Peppy would be proud.

They still let him fly the team vehicle, perhaps unwisely. Scott really enjoys the freedom of flying - 'no responsibility, no one complaining or making you feel bad.' I wonder what he's referring to with those awfully specific things. No time to worry about that because Scott leans into it and does a barrel roll, scaring TF out of everyone.

They wisely get him off the stick and Kamala brushes it off as 'goofing.' That really sets him off into a shame spiral, though I don't think they truly internalise that this bit is not exactly exaggerated. 'I'm not allowed to screw up. I can't make a single mistake ever! I can't ever let anybody down. If I do then what good am I?'

None of these people know Charles Xavier very well, but if they did they'd probably slap him. I feel like this is the moment when they connected young Slim to the guy that killed Xavier while possessed by the Phoenix. The fact that he's a nosy telepath who raised Scott exacerbates the Fridge Horror. The unhealthy mantras and the beliefs informing them had to come from somewhere, and Scott himself learning about that 'loss of control' didn't have the same shock as the rest of the O5. My reading is that he was offended and embarrassed by the idea he'd lose control - like it's a failure of character.

After seemingly getting a hold of himself and being quiet for a while, Scott openly expresses fear. The team is confused so he elaborates. He's scared of himself, scared of his eyes, scared of losing control. He's scared of killing anyone let alone his father figure. Pathologically terrified, even, and it occupies his every waking moment. He doubts their friendship while lamenting how people see him, without denying his hypervigilance and how it isolates him.

Scott wants to be social and carefree but he doesn't feel like he's allowed to. I can relate. My disability doesn't have the power to hurt people (except myself through inaction or accident) but it's isolating AF and requires hypervigilance every moment I'm awake. People, even close friends and family, don't take it seriously and that sucks. Blame and pressure exacerbate the difficulty of managing my functionality, and round and round it goes. 'What's stopping you?' is a familiar refrain, no matter how many times I explain it. It's exhausting.

Isolation is one aspect of the disability experience - it informs and intersects with exclusion, often passively. There's rarely anyone directly saying 'you can't do this thing;' it's often the way the world, society is constructed - for the able bodied. Nothing fits, or allows you to fit. I know I grieve my former degree of functionality and the things I simply can't participate in. I became disabled at 28, and I'm sure there's nuance for folks born with disabilities or that get worse over time - but I can't speak to that lived experience. No matter what though, as Scott says, 'it just takes.' His 'unable to cry' statement is one I don't recall hearing before this run, but it casts Scott's decades of emotional clodes-offness in a new light. It's a strong character beat that fits seamlessly with his established behaviour and publication history. I usually don't get so personal in my analysis but woof - this hit me HARD. The combination of resentment and hypervigilance over my body and how it is perceived is particularly close to home. So too is sharing with sympathetic friends - they get it, but they also don't.

Round two with Captain Fucko happens while Scott is still affected, and he dips the fuck out. The action is truncated by Tumblr's image limits but his love and protectiveness kicks into overdrive and manifests violently - nearly killing Psycho-Man. Kamala has to step in with the disability aid assist, though it's nice nobody judges him. After letting out all the emotions and optic blasts he has Scott is tapped and falls unconscious.

Even this act of vulnerability, putting himself in other people's hands, is fraught. I'd find that difficult without a checklist of invisible needs to consider, and that's a lot of labour to expect from someone else. Emotional AND physical. That in turn breeds guilt and resentment, as nobody can be a carer forever and negotiating any period of carer/caree relationship is incredibly challenging. The power dynamics and your needs as labor can poison the closest relationship. Nobody wants to be dependent, or even a burden, but needs are needs. Many go without.

It's a little ambiguous if Scott remembers the events of the day, but it's heavily implied he does. He's not embarrassed, per se, but The Champions didn't opt in to Scott Summers trauma dumping and giving them an out is gracious. It's his feelings and they're valid, but they were forced out of him by an attack.

I daresay the team understands what makes Scott tick a lot better, and nobody gives him shit for being uptight after this. The above panel is supplemental, but I think it fits perfectly. I believe it was an overall cathartic experience for Yung Cyke - it feels good to let out every now and then.

The flipside of never talking about it again is that it really is easier to just not engage with disability whether they're close to you or not. It's labour however you slice it and in my experience the reality of permanent disability is depressing to think about. The reality that you're not going to get better is outside context for most, fortunately. That's part of what makes it labour, work. Personally I have found it hard to not be resentful, frustrated, and jealous of having the privilege of not thinking about it. I work to not make it other people's problem, balancing that with the support that's offered.

The majority of my close friends these days are disabled themselves, and navigating that paradigm with two or more people is exponentially more difficult. Some days I don't have the energy to give and vice versa, so I definitely get it. Putting it into action is another story, but balancing needs and availability is part of any relationship. The well-meaning group conspiracy of silence in the last panel (probably) isn't realistic, but it can certainly feel like it. If you got this far, thanks for reading! This is not the post I set out to make, but sometimes it just flows out of you. I'm glad it did, as I need to apply a disability theory lens to my writing more often. The theory and the personal would ideally be further apart, but I needed to get this out. ❤️

[pancakeszs]

you over anything, always

♡pairing: iceskater!sunghoon x fem!reader

♡wc: 1.8k

♡contents: reader has a panic attack, fear of iceskating, guilt, fluff

♡synopsis: after multiple attempts of trying to get you to skate with him, you finally agree and step onto the rink with sunghoon despite your fear the of the ice. things go exactly as you expected and you're left hurt and embarassed.

♡a/n: not proofread! also my best friend requested this and i couldn't deny her. she always has the best ideas and i loved writing this! i hope you enjoy!

WRITTEN BY @pancakeszs (please do not copy, plagiarize, repost, translate, or edit)

you watched in awe as your boyfriend graced you with his beautiful ice skating skills. watching sunghoon on the ice always brought you peace. the way he spun and slid across the ice was so smooth and majestic. and the soft white glow from the rink made him look ethereal.

you didn’t mind at all, watching him skate from the sidelines. you had no interest in skating, in fact you were terrified of skating. no matter how hard sunghoon tried to convince you, you could never get the courage to lace up some ice skates and step onto the rink.

people would think you would be a natural at it, from how talented sunghoon was. but you knew if you ever tried you would look like a calf trying to stand up on its own legs for the first time, and not only was it the embarrassment that kept you from trying it. it was the fear of falling and hurting yourself, you had seen so many clips of skaters falling and injuring themselves, and you were too much of a chicken to even try.

suddenly you noticed sunghoon gliding towards you “it’s so lonely out here on the rink.” he sighed to himself, glancing sideways at you. you knew what he was implying, he always tried to convince you to get on the rink.

everytime you denied him you could feel the guilt naw at you. sunghoon was so passionate about skating, and you knew he would step out of his comfort zone for the things you enjoyed. even if sunghoon didn’t show it, you couldn’t help but feel like he was dissapointed by the fact you wouldn’t even try.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to get onto the rink. just thing about it made a bit of anxiety bubble inside you. when sunghoon made it to the bleachers it brought you out of your own head.

you quickly remebered his words and sighed playfully, hiding your guilt. “i’m just over here, hoon. you don’t have to feel lonely.”

sunghoon leaned against the railing, “it’s still too far…i think you should come out onto the rink.” he raised his eyebrow at you, waiting for your response.

you looked into sunghoons eyes, each time he asked he had the same look in them. it was hope, hope that you would join him on the rink so he could share his passion with you.

you sighed and closed your eyes, your second biggest fear other than ice skating, was sunghoon getting tired of you. even after three years of dating, he was always patient with you, always asking for you to skate with him, but never pushing too far. that’s one of the things you loved about him, but at some point you knew he would find a girl who loved ice skating as much as him. and he would eventually choose her, the girl that can he can share his passions with, who won’t be too much of a coward to try.

“okay.” you say, opening your eyes to look at him.

his face morphs into something like excitment and shock. “actually?” he asks.

“yes..” you say, already regretting your descision.

he immediatley flew across the ice and off the rink to pull you into a hug. he squeezes you and you can practically feel the joy radiating off of him. for just a moment your worries melted away, but you knew it wouldn’t last for long.

sunghoon pulled away “let me get you some skates.” he quickly unlaced his own skates and ran to the locker room. you sat down on the bench, already feeling your chest tighten with anxiety. this will make him happy, it’ll be worth it. that’s what you kept repeating to yourself, trying to convince your brain that this was the right desicion.

you opened your eyes to see sunghoon walking towards you. he was grinning like a madman and knelt down before you “let me help you put them on.”

you smiled shyly “hoon, you don’t have to do that.”

“i want to, i know this is scary for you, but you’re doing this for me. it’s the least i can do.” he said as he slid off your shoes and helped you put on the skates.

you watch as his long fingers tied the laces together. he had a concentrated face on, double knotting them to make sure they were secure. “how do they feel? tight enough?” he asked, staring up at you.

you nodded “yes, thank you.”

he smiled at you and put his skates back on himself. he made quick work of it and when he was done he got up nd offered out his hand to you.

you took it and gripped onto the railing, while he slowly led you to the opening of the rink. finally you were at the opening, and sunghoon moved in front of you so he was on the ice.

“you got this, just one step.” he encouraged.

you smiled nervously and held your breath as you placed one foot on the rink. it felt slippery and you gasped gripping onto the railing tighter. you squeezed your eyes shut and sunghoon gently rubbed your hand.

“its okay, i won’t let you fall. just place your other foot onto the rink and it’ll be easier.”

cautiously you placed your other foot onto the rink and wobbled, almost sliding to the ground. fortunately sunghoon caught you just in time and helped you regain your balance.

“good job, now you just have to get used to feeling of moving on the ice.” you aprecciated sunghoons words but they went in one ear and out the other.

you couldn’t open your mouth to speak so you just gripped the railing and pushed yourself to slide farther down. you tried skating forwards but you felt off balance and squeezed your eyes shut.

“sunghoon i can’t do this.” you whimpered feeling like if you moved even an inch you would slide away and hurt yourself.

“y/n you can do this, trust me. i won’t let you get hurt.” sunghoon said confidently.

you trusted him, you really did. you just didn’t trust yourself.

“let go of the railing and hold my hands.” he instructed.

you took a deep breath and removed your other hand from the railing to grab onto his. the moment you let go of the railing a flood of anxiety hit your chest like a brick. in the few seconds where your hand wasnt holding onto anything you began to panic. you felt like you couldn’t breath, and your vision was getting blurry.

“sunghoon. sunghoon!” you repeated his name multiple times, reaching fro his hand and beginning to flail around in the midst of your panic.

you couldn’t see anything even though your eyes were open, your vision had gotten spotty and you were trying to reach for sunghoon but you couldn’t hear or see him.

you feel your eyes grow watery and you feel the tears roll down your cheeks. suddenly you feel a firm grip on your hand anchoring you to the moment. you were still crying but some of your panic had settled knowing sunghoon was holding you. still your chest ached from the heaviness that was weighing on you.

“i’m right here y/n. i’ve got you, you’re ok. i’m right here.” sunghoon was saying to you softly, repeating it like a chant.

your eyes were blurry with tears, but they were no longer spotted. you could see sunghoons figure infront of you. then you felt yourself being lifted up from the ground, you gasped in shock but then felt the warmth of sunghoon around you.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and hid your face in his shoulder, feeling a crash of embarassment come over you. there was no way you had just had a full meltdown over taking a few steps onto the ice rink, the thought of it just made you cry again.

sunghoon sat down on the bench and held you close to him. he could hear his heartbeat and you focused on it, using the stready rythm to calm you down. finally when you had calmed down you lifted your face from the crook of his neck. you stared into his eyes, trying to read his expression. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that made you even more worried.

you let out a broken “i’m sorry.” and looked away from him, feeling dissapointed in yourself.

sunghoon immediately frowned and gently turned your face towards him. “look at me…you do not need to apolgize.”

you took a shaky breath “yes i do, i couldn’t even manage to take a few steps onto the rink before having a breakdown. i should’ve been stronger espeically when it came to something so important to you.”

sunghoon brushed a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb. “you were strong, you were so scared of the ice but you still had enough coruage to get on even for a few minutes just for me. you’re so brave, and if anything i should be the one apologizing. i shouldn’t have pressured you to go out on the rink with me, whenever you said no before i should’ve accepted it.”

you shook your head at him “you shouldn’t be apologzing either! this is something you’re passionate about, the least i could do was try to do this with you. i’ve been putting it off for too long…it was about time i tried. i didn’t want you getting tired of me.”

“what? tired of you? what do you mean.” sunghoon asked, caught off guard by your words.

you immediately regretted what you had said. “it’s nothing, i’m overreacting.” you tried to brush it off but sunghoon didn’t let you.

“if its something important to you, you’re not overreacting…tell me what you meant.”

you sighed deeply and looked away as you explained your worries. “i thought that if i kept denying you when you asked for me to skate with you, you’d get bored. i thought you’d realize that i’m not good enough for you, and you’d find someone else who could skate with you.”

“y/n…never. that would never happen. i could never get bored of you. if i had to choose your or skating it would be you withought a doubt. and i would never choose someone else over you, no matter how talented at skating they are. i love you for you, i love you for your fear of skating and how you try even if it terrifies you. i love for your laugh and how you encourage me in everything i do. if you never decided to step foot on a rink it would still be you who i choose every time. you are it for me y/n. nobody else. ever.”

sunghoons words melted away a piece of you that had been stuck to you ever since the first time he asked you to join him on the rink. you wrapped your arms around him and held him tightly. “thank you sunghoon, for understanding. i love you so much.” you say to him when you pull back.

he kisses both of your tear stained cheeks and then your puffy lips. “i love you too. no matter what.”

[sacrilegesummer]

Wet, Hot, American Nights - Part 3

Come on Eileen

summary: After arriving at your remote cliffside campsite, Nancy and Jonathon have a favor to ask you and Steve, pushing you beyond what you're comfortable doing. After unexpectedly inspiring Steve to push beyond his comfort zone, he starts to open up to you more, but the signs still feel mixed. Or maybe you're overthinking. warnings: flirting, wide open water, cliff jumping, mention of wild animals, cussing, cussing, heights, ‘only one bed’ trope, but for camping a/n: I am still VERY nervous pls be kind to me. I am trying to not describe the reader in any way besides age and gender, but if there's something written that feels like projecting a certain look, pls lmk and I will edit/fix it for the future:) hi sorry this took me so long life has been crazy lmao, bf is away for the summer so with nothing else to do this will take more priority in my life <3 Also the title names mean almost nothing, just a general vibe…

word count: 3.3K

After an hour voyage across the lake, traversing rapids in your small shitty canoes, and a mile and half portage with all of your things in hand, Cabins 6 and 11 finally made it to the designated camp site. Your campers fall down in a well-deserved huff. You were shocked, you didn’t hear a single complaint from any of them, not even a peep. In fact, they almost seemed to be enjoying the hard work. You let them have some time to settle as Nancy and Jonathon began to start a fire for dinner, while Steve unpacked the food. You place your bags by your tent bag, two lifeguard tubes near the edge of Jumping Rock (the cliff side), and immediately hang a rope in a tree to hang the bear bag later in the night. You learned your lesson during the first Site Night to hang the rope before it got dark. Thinking of the dark, you hollered to the kids behind you, “You’ll be setting up your own tent, so don’t let it get too late!” 

A chorus of groans followed your announcement, and Steve yelled back, “No dessert if your tent isn’t set up by the time dinner’s ready!”

You smirked at him, thankful for the backup. Nancy and Jonathon were too preoccupied to pay attention to you and Steve. 

“Steve…” you drew out, “if I cook your hobo stew, will you put up mine and Nancy’s tent?”

He grimaced at you, “I don’t know, I think I’ll need something else,” he eyes you playfully. “How about… You help me lifeguard the cliff and cook dinner, and I’ll put up your tent,” he said, sticking out his hand to strike the deal.

“Deal!” you shook his hand excitedly. Pitching the tents was your least favorite Site Night task. 

_ _ _

Your campers gathered around Jonathon’s hastily made campfire as you finished cooking dinner, all the tents were set up perfectly, girls on one side, boys on the other, with counselor tents on a hill, somewhat centered between the two. You let the girls giggle and gossip with each other, pleased to see them tolerating one another. You and your fellow counselors were further back on a picnic table, chowing down on your stew, talking about everything and anything related to camp. 

“Oh, by the way, you guys,” Nancy started, and looked between you and Steve bashfully, “Jonathon and I have a question for you.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” you said in between mouthfuls.

“Would you guys mind if…” her voice got low, “if Jonathon and I shared a tent tonight? You can say no,” she added quickly. 

You looked at Steve, your face contorting uncomfortably. Sure, you and Steve were friends, but you were just becoming friends, and the last time you shared a tent, you also shared it with a dozen other people. Before you could say no, Steve almost yelled-

“Yes!” His face grew red and he looked at you, a couple of times, quickly saying, “If you’re okay with that. I think it’d be really fun,” Steve said with so much sincerity, you couldn’t possibly say no. 

“Of course, that sounds fun. Just don’t have too much fun, you two,” you winked at the couple. 

Jonathan scoffed at that, “You’re disgusting, there are children here,” he mocked you. “Isn’t it time for a cabin activity? A little… cliff jumping?” Jonathan cringed as he said it, clearly hating the idea of it, but it was something both sets of camper’s had been talking about since checking ‘Jumping Rock’ out. You knew he’d be just fine though, he and Nancy would be at the top making sure everyone had shoes and lifejackets on.

“You know it,” Steve smirked at his co-counselor. He leaned back towards the campers, “Okay, guys! Swimsuits on in 10 if you want to cliff jump!” Steve gestured to you and himself and added, “We’ll be waiting for you guys in the water!”

He hopped up off the table and tried to pull you along, “Come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you laughed, tossing your sweatshirt onto the picnic table, and then ran towards the edge, both of your lifeguard tubes waiting for you.

You stepped out of your shorts and threw them aside in a place you would remember them. You were in your favorite one piece, a blue one piece with red lining all around the edges. Athletic and flattering, you looked good. You looked over to Steve to ask who should go first, but he was already looking at you. This time, he didn’t look away, but he did make quick eye contact. He raised his eyebrows at you questioningly, his face growing warm. “What’s up?” he squeaked out. 

“Do you wanna go first?” you gestured towards the edge of the cliff. It was about 30 feet until the surface of the water, and another 20 before the bottom of the lake, but from up here it might as well have been a mile jump. You loved the excitement, though, the adrenaline rush wasn’t even your favorite part. It was the feeling of free-falling, the weightlessness of it all, and the wind against your skin and through your hair. It was incredible, and you couldn’t wait to go, but you wanted to give Steve a fair chance of going first. 

He looked over the edge and laughed nervously, “That’s all you,” and took a step back. He gave a fake cough and said, “I’ve never actually… I don’t really like heights,” he explained. “I might take the path down…” he trailed off, looking towards the tiny overgrown path that led down to the bank. 

 You nodded understandingly and placed a hand on his arm, “Of course, I’ll meet you down there.” You faced forward, the sun was just beginning to set over the lake, and you took it in for a moment. You looked back at Steve and smiled, “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” hand still on his bicep.

“Totally,” Steve responded, “beautiful,” his eyes flashed between you and the sunset. His eyes dropped to your hand as you removed it from his arm, missing the warmth, even in 80-degree weather.

You took a deep breath, clutching onto your lifeguard tube that was under your left arm, and glanced back at Steve again for reassurance. Anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. The lake was like a perfect mirror to the beautiful sunset, and you took a few steps back. Not wasting another moment, you took off running towards the edge. The sun in your eyes and your hair bouncing wildly, Steve couldn’t believe he was the only one to witness this. He was completely mesmerized, staring at you as you ran off the edge. The moment you lose the ground underneath you, you let go of your tube, arms flailing. You couldn’t help the excited scream and hysterical laughter that left your mouth. 

The water was freezing, and the shock of the cold water made it hard to breathe for a moment, but once your face hit the surface, you laughed again. “Steve!” the first words out of your mouth instantly, “You gotta try it!” 

His head peeked over the edge, and you heard his laugh echo across the lake. “Give me some room!” he yelled as his head pulled away, taking some steps back. It was silent for over a minute (you checked your watch). Suddenly, you heard the pounding of his feet and saw his legs sprawl out as they left the rock. He let out a scream that sounded more akin to a horror flick than a joyous occasion. As his body cut through the water, his tube pulled him back to the surface. He came up sputtering and laughing even more hysterically. 

“I can’t believe I just did that. I’ve never done that! I never even jumped off the swings as a kid! Holy shit! I can’t believe you made me do that!” Steve rambled, his eyes wide with adrenaline.

“Made you? I didn’t do anything, that was all you! You should be proud of yourself!” you yelled back, despite being only a few feet away from each other. 

“I would have never done that if you weren’t here. I’d be a stickler up at the top like Nancy and Jon. Oh my god,” he threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t believe it, that was awesome.”

You found yourself staring at him again, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few hours, you couldn’t help it. He swung his head around and began to swim towards you, his large arms stretching and moving himself forward impressively fast, until he was right within your personal space. You both were treading water, your tubes long forgotten. 

“You’re like, really really awesome, you know that?” You looked into his big brown eyes, your face fawning a bit, touched by his compliment. 

“Steve, that’s-”

The sound of screaming cut you off abruptly, and you remembered you were supposed to be guarding lives in the water, not staring into Steve Harrington’s doe eyes and gentle smile. Not counting the freckles and moles on his face, brought out even more by the summer sun, you were supposed to be watching your campers.

Your campers were crying your name, over and over, “I can’t do it!” Courtney yells. 

Yvonne screams even louder, “What if I die?” which causes all the other girls to scream. 

Nancy has her ears covered while you scream back, “You won’t die! Just run and jump, you big babies!”

One by one, you watched your (irritating but) wonderful girls encourage each other, support one another, and eventually gather the courage to jump. It was such a beautiful moment to watch. Courtney went first; she was quite the leader, and this impressed you beyond belief. Steve’s cabin wasn’t much better, but they were petrified with fear until finally, Wade took the literal leap of faith. By the time the kids had all gone up and down three times, it was getting dark, and you and Steve decided to call it quits. 

Alisha begged, “Can we please do the polar plunge here tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Steve said seriously. It would be a polar plunge, and it meant they all were going to be soaking wet the entire way home, which usually led to some health issues in campers you all wanted to avoid. 

You and Steve pulled up the rear of the group, trudging along silently from exhaustion. Not a bad silence, in fact, quite a pleasant silence. You pushed Steve’s arm to let him know you were deviating from the group for a moment to go grab your shorts. Foolishly, you did not have a flashlight, and when you walked up to the top of the cliff, looking at the dense foliage, you realized that looking for your shorts was useless. Steve had followed you and realized what you did at the exact same time and said, “Shit. We can just look in the morning.”

“Yeah, but those are my only pants,” you said shyly. You were supposed to pack light! It’s one night!

“You can just wear my sweatpants. We’ll be in the same tent anyway, so it’s not like they’ll notice,” Steve offered, referring to the campers. 

“What will you wear then?”

Steve scoffed, “I like to live lavishly, I usually bring two pairs of pants, if you can believe it.”

“I actually can’t,” you said dryly.

“That’s okay, I’ll believe for the both of us,” he smirked. 

_ _ _

You were sitting by the fire, back at the knees of your camper, Piper, who was braiding your hair. She had what looked to be hundreds of beautiful little braids with beads woven in between the strands. She was braiding your hair into just two big braids, but said she could ‘sacrifice’ a couple of her extra beads for you. When she finished, you took another look around the campfire.

You noticed the girls growing increasingly tired with every minute that passed, until finally the conversation had completely died down. The boys were off in the woods. You think you saw them building forts earlier, but now you could just hear them whispering. 

“Okay, girls, I think it’s time for bed,” you said, just above a whisper, getting up and shaking the shoulders of Alisha, who was passed out in the dirt, a log as her pillow. As they started to file into their tents, you saw Jonathon doing the same with his boys. You gave him a wink across the fire before heading into yours and… Steve’s tent. Your face grew hot thinking about it. Sleeping in such a small space with him felt incredibly intimate, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. He seemed very excited at the prospect of sleeping in the same tent as you, though you wondered if he just didn’t want Nancy and Jonathon to feel guilty for asking. 

The absence of crunching gravel let you know your girls had gone to sleep, you turned around and whisper-yelled ‘goodnight!’ to your girls, who very adorably and sleepily said goodnight back. The air had become much colder, and you were thankful for the pants Steve would soon lend you. You made eye contact with him as he walked a camper to their tent (a boy who was scared of the dark had asked him to come with him while he brushed his teeth), and he smiled at you. You gave one back and unzipped the tent, taking your shoes off before carefully crawling in. You were a little startled when he put his face in the open tent flap and pointed aggressively at his backpack. 

“My sweatpants are in there. Go ahead and put them on. I’ll brush my teeth while you do that,” he said, and quickly pulled out and zipped the door up to give you some privacy. You rummaged through his bag and found what you assumed were the ones he wanted you to wear. They were simple, navy blue Nike joggers. You quickly undressed, taking your swimsuit off and putting on clean, dry undergarments. You put his pants on, untying the drawstring for more comfort. You unzipped the door to hang your swimsuit to dry and looked around to see if he was nearby or if any campers were creeping. The last thing you needed was for a camper to see the tent switch. You looked over at Jonathon and Nancy’s tent, hearing the quiet whispering and giggling, and you smiled gently at the two of them. You carefully stepped back into your tent. While waiting for Steve, you lay down on top of your blue sleeping bag and shoved your sweatshirt under your head as a pillow. You couldn’t help but notice Steve had a real pillow on his side. Talk about lavish! You were told not to pack too much of anything. Were you the only one to listen to that advice? 

You flipped the switch of your flashlight and grabbed the one luxury you cared to bring: your favorite book. You shined the flashlight on the open pages and read through a few pages before you heard Steve scratch at the nylon of the tent. 

“Are you decent?”

You laughed, “Yes, I’m clothed, come in.”

His head popped in and began to crawl inside, flipping on his butt to take his shoes off. He glanced at your book, “Do you want to read for a bit before going to bed?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m like, exhausted.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve said, but the way his eyes were flitting around the tent led you to believe he was less tired than he was letting on. “You look good in my pants, by the way. You look nice in blue.”

You looked down at your legs and then back at Steve, “They’re sweatpants.”

“Still, you look good. In like- everything.” Steve’s eyes were wide, and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. Your face grew red at the compliment. 

“Thank you. For the compliment and letting me wear them. I really appreciate it.” 

The tent fell into another quiet moment, the sounds of the campers' distant chatter and the rustling of trees outside filling the space. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. The heat of the tent, the closeness of your sleeping bags, and the quiet sound of nocturnal creatures made everything feel much more intimate.

You both settled into your sleeping bags a bit more, and you shut your flashlight off. You broke the silence this time. 

“You seem to really like your cabin this week. I’m still thinking about what we talked about last week, how you felt that you couldn’t connect with anyone at camp. Has that changed?”

Steve seems a little surprised at your question, “Yeah. I’ve taken what you said to heart. Finding that appreciation and connection. You know I’m- I’m letting camp change me, letting camp really, like- take its course on me. It’s been great letting my guard down and not being so… pretentious… about everything.” he said, sounding a little embarrassed, “I mean, even today, watching the guys help each other, and care for each other, it really makes you feel like you’re a part of something bigger,” you could see him grin, even in the dim light, “Like when Wade jumped. He looked like he might pass out before he jumped, but when he came back up… he was so stoked. Like, just so proud of himself."

“Isn’t it incredible! And you get to be a part of that. It seems small Steve, but you’re changing lives here, not just your own.”

“It is…” Steve smiled to himself and then chuckled quietly, “I don’t think I would have done any of that as a kid. And I definitely wouldn’t have the courage you’ve got.”

“I only pretend to be cool, my heart was still racing the entire time.” 

Steve was quiet for a moment, "I don’t know… I just think it’s awesome how you can just do all of that. You’ve got this confidence, like… nothing can rattle you. You walk around like you own camp, and you basically do. You walk around dancing like you don’t care if anyone sees. And maybe no one does, except me,” Steve says that last part so quietly, you couldn’t make out what he said. He looks over at you, and even though he can hardly make out your profile in the dark, he stares anyway. 

“I do not own camp,” you laugh, “and I dance like that because I just always have a song stuck in my head. Gotta dance that earworm out,” and you start wiggling in your sleeping bag, which Steve can only tell because of the scratchy sound of it against your clothes. You laugh and then say seriously, “But, thank you. That means a lot. It’s good to be recognized, you know? You also are like, really impressive this week. I haven’t seen such life in your eyes… I don’t think ever.”

He laughs quietly, “That’s probably true. It hasn’t seemed worth it until now.”

You smiled back at Steve, though neither of you could see each other. You were glad the cover of night shielded your facial expressions. You were beginning to like Steve, but you still haven’t forgotten the arrogant sex pest he seemed to be not five weeks ago. People change, but they don’t change that fast. You wondered if he was playing the long game with you. Maybe he was trying to get closer to Patty or Mae, your best friends at camp, and you were the way in. Instantly, you willed yourself to stop thinking about that, your chest uncomfortably tight. 

“Goodnight, Steve,” you said quietly.

He smiled, and you could see the glow of his teeth even in the dark, “Goodnight, sleep well,” adding your name quietly.  

 The night outside of the tent seemed to take you both into sleep simultaneously, the exhaustion finally reaching both of you. Steve fell asleep to thoughts of your hair, whipping around in the wind, your laugh that was quickly becoming his favorite genre of music, and your body in that blue one-piece. 

[candytuft-whimsing]

Yeah I gave into the SpyXFamily AU too

Not sure if these designs stay but wanted to do smth

[gardenofhope]

neither of them would be here without him!! happy birthday kirby, thank you for everything you’ve done for me <3

[chososcamgirl]

i miss the month and a half that i was unemployed last year. that was when sjap was at its peak too. i think unemployment is the way to go.

[kaiserouo]

she knows what her skills are for

[call-me-chips]

This a piece from a bit ago (my art style has changed a bit since then) but it's still one of my favs

[benevolenterrancy]

no rest for the wicked

(part of a larger project i'm working on, but i liked how this one looked on its own)

[onyourstageleft]

I'm going to be a certified library professional in a few short weeks, I have a solid understanding of the need to read broadly and should have a strong personal commitment to doing so, but more often than not, I end up reading fanfic for the one relatively obscure YA universe that has engrained itself into my very being rather than reading literally anything else and I don't know how to feel about it

[wundrousarts]

Mini Silverborn Countdown

If you’ve been around for a few years, you’ve seen me vaguely mention a “Silverborn Countdown Challenge” several times. It’s been delayed and changed as many times as the book itself, lol.

If anyone wants sort of a low-stakes, very chill and spaced out version of this ye olde never tackled challenge to complete in the next year before Silverborn, I propose what I’m doing:

Every 3 months leading up to the initial release, I am creating one thing based on each of the books.

January — Nevermoor

April — Wundersmith

July — Hollowpox

[yayforocs]

👉👈 so @silverskye13 i saw this and..............

had to make an aron helsmet!!!!!! this was really hecking fun to think about actually like what she'd be like n design (which. is a poke at the rp server she was from actually) and also made me sit down and think more on my other minecraft ocs i have sittin around and why they ended up getting redesigns lkdsfh BUT YEAH i!!!!!!!! aron!!!!!!!!!!!!!!