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zepskies · 11 months ago

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Green

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader, Ben and daughter!OC

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

AN: Another one-shot for the BMD-verse, set sometime after "Until Morning" (you'll see). This can be read as standalone as well!

Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Father and daughter fluff, followed by husband and wife spice.~

Read more of the BMD-verse! ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Father and daughter were glaring at one another, gazes locked.

Green against green.

“Young lady, I’m telling you right now. I’m not gonna tolerate any more of your little attitude,” said Ben. “If you want to try me, be my guest.”

He held the ravioli poised on a pink plastic spoon. His daughter Lila sat in her highchair in the kitchen, boldly refusing any more of her lunch.

Her stubborn face reminded him entirely too much of you. But he needed her to eat. He wouldn’t have it said when you came home that he couldn’t feed a damn two-year-old.

He huffed. “Work with me here. Just a couple more bites.”

Lila made a shrill sound of refusal when the spoon came near her face. He knew she could use a spoon just fine. She was being difficult on purpose.

To demonstrate her resolve, she slapped at the ravioli with a chubby little hand, and it ended up splashing back into the bowl. A bit of red sauce splattered onto Ben’s cheek, with a pinch of it hitting his eye.

He blinked in annoyance. “Delilah Marie, I swear to Christ—”

She’s just a baby, a voice that sounded a lot like you infiltrated his mind. It still didn’t take away his aggravation.

“No!” Lila insisted. It was her favorite word, right behind Bluey.

She then pushed the bowl right off the highchair. It spilled ravioli and pasta sauce all over the floor in spectacular fashion. Ben was sitting in his own chair by the dining table, where he moved his feet back at the last moment. She almost got his Italian loafers.

“You gotta be f…” It took every scrap of patience within him to hold his tongue…and breathe calmly through his nose. He didn’t want to reward this destructive, disrespectful behavior, but he also knew that he needed his daughter to eat.

“Want some applesauce?” he said, as a peace offering.

Lila’s face scrunched.

“No applesauce, huh?” Ben muttered. He glanced at the mess across the highchair and the formerly white tile on the floor. “Your mother’s gonna have a conniption.”

“Mommy?” Lila asked. “Mommy’s home?”

“No, she’s not here right now,” Ben replied. “She’ll be home later.”

Lila seemed to understand, because that’s when she got upset again. Her red-stained finger drew a shapeless form in the sauce as she pouted. At least she wasn’t crying.

Ben sighed, once again, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Fuck it.

“You want some ice cream?” he bribed.

Her sadness dissipated at the thought; she smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah!”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grumbled.

After a scoop of strawberry ice cream for each of them (she liked it because it was pink), Ben wrangled her up out of the highchair and declared, bath time.

He did fine with the bathing process. He’d helped you with this before, and so he knew what to do in order to wash the sauce off her face, hands, and even her hair. It was what came after the bath that remained a problem.

Lila was stubborn beyond belief, even before she could articulate what it was about the soft green onesie that she didn’t like. No, she wasn’t satisfied until Ben pulled out the yellow Starlight themed pajamas. Probably because they had “Auntie Annie’s” face all over them.

He rolled his eyes, but this wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. He dressed Lila and tried to tuck her into bed for her afternoon nap. The problem was, she refused to lie still in the crib.

Instead, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, using the edge of the crib for balance. He’d be impressed, if she wasn’t trying to climb out and give him a small heart attack.

He grabbed her and gathered her against his chest. Despite the super strength you’d temporarily displayed off and on throughout your pregnancy, Lila’s powers were latent at the moment. Dr. Baker seemed to think Lila would start to display them once she got old enough. Like Ryan, who hadn’t started growing into his powers until around 10 years old.

So for now, Lila was a mostly normal two-year-old who could still get hurt.

Ben frowned. “This is the time you usually go down. Why do you have so much energy?”

She just giggled at him and put both hands on his face, over his eyes.

“Daddy, guess who?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help smiling. As usual, he indulged her.

“Could it be my baby girl?”

He waited until her hands came away from his eyes, and he opened them wide.

“There she is!”

She squealed and giggled and grabbed his hair when he kissed her cheek. In the comfort of his own home, he could afford to be this openly affectionate.

Aw shit, he thought, as something occured to him.

He finally realized why she was so fucking hyper. Maybe it had something to do with the giant scoop of ice cream she’d had for lunch.

Goddamn it. Ben sighed and unwrapped her arm from around his head.

“Okay, let’s watch some TV.”

Lila didn’t seem all that interested in watching anything, or even playing with her toys. She mainly wanted to jump on Ben’s stomach while he was trying to relax on the couch. He put on a football game you taped for him. Or recorded, as you'd said.

“All right, enough. Your old man’s trying to watch the game,” Ben said, bringing Lila down to sit in lap.

That lasted for about two seconds. Thereafter, she was climbing up his chest and trying to smother him with her little hands.

He took her hand from his nose so he could at least breathe in peace.

“Where’s Mommy?” Lila asked, as she sat on his shoulder and beat a little fist on the top of his head.

“She’s with your aunt,” Ben replied. “Well, not your real one, the fake one.”

Lila made a sound of confusion. Realizing that she didn’t know what the hell he meant, he rephrased.

“She’s with your Aunt Annie. They’ll be back soon,” he said.

He didn’t mind you wanting a day out to yourself. What he minded was the attitude you’d struck when he suggested dropping Lila off with Louisa, your actual sister.

“What, you can’t handle her alone for one day?” you’d asked.

His pride hadn’t allowed him to say no to that.

So here he was, with a wily toddler who was doing her damndest to suffocate him. Better attempts than this had failed, but it was still annoying while he was trying to watch the game.

Somehow, he managed to tune it out while he watched the ref make a bad call.

“What was that?! You gotta be kidding me!” Ben said, holding Lila to his chest even as he pointed and shouted at the TV. “Son of a bitch. What a pussy call that was.”

“Bish, bish, bish,” Lila said, making a game out of the word. It called Ben’s attention.

He forgot about the game for a moment when he looked down at her. His eyes widened a fraction, even as a smile pulled at his lips.

“What’d you just say?”

“Bishhhhhh,” Lila repeated. “Somvabishhhh.” Her lips squished like a fish. And then she giggled, like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“Aw, fuck,” Ben uttered.

And he pressed his lips together with ever widening eyes at what he’d just said.

Lila grinned. “Fack!”

“Uhh, no. No. Don’t say that,” he said, trying to sound stern. Inside, he was trying not to laugh. He didn't really give a shit what she said, but you were particular about the kid not inheriting his vocabulary.

In fact, he was pretty sure you were going to go nuclear for this one.

“Why?” Lila asked.

“Because it’s uh…a bad word,” Ben replied, even though he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. This was what he’d become. A suburban dad.

"And it's not ladylike," he added.

“Fackkkk,” Lila giggled some more.

Christ on a cross. Ben bit the inside of lip hard to stop himself from laughing.

“Whatever. Just don’t say it around your mom,” he relented. He brushed his fingers through her soft brown hair. She preened at the attention, like the little showboat she was.

“Daddyyyy…” Lila wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled as deeply into him as she could, like a koala clinging to a shaking branch.

Ben sighed and rubbed a hand up and down her back as he cradled her against him.

These were the moments he didn’t mind. In fact, these were the moments he did his best to remember. They helped block out the older, darker ones that this kid would never know.

Ben woke to the shutter of a camera going off.

He blinked his bleary eyes open to find you standing there with a highly amused smile on your face, and your phone poised in your hand.

He groaned, but he soon realized that Lila was sleeping in his arms, on his chest. You leaned down and rested a hand on her back. You also greeted him with a kiss to his temple.

“Long day?” you teased quietly.

Ben gave you a deadpan look, one that had you straining to taper down your giggles. Though he drew you closer by your hip and squeezed the soft flesh over your white sundress. He took you in with a lazy once-over.

You looked good. Sexy as hell, really. Your face was glowing and relaxed, and he liked the shade of red you’d done on your nails.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, massaging his shoulder. Though you arched a brow. “There’s a catastrophe in the kitchen.”

Ben blinked.

Fuck. He forgot about that.

“Yep,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk of his own. “Right on time for you, baby.”

You chuckled, though your eyes narrowed in warning. “Yeah, right.”

You still helped him put Lila down in the nursery for the rest of her nap. She yawned and turned over onto her back. You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, though you had to smile when it accidentally left the red mark of your lipstick behind.

You bit your lip and gently rubbed it off without waking her up. (An amazing damn feat, as far as you were concerned.)

Ben laid a heavy hand on your back, prompting you to straighten up and turn into his waiting embrace.

His lips curved as he looked down at you. “Hey.”

You laughed quietly. “Hey, yourself.”

Your hands glided up his chest, and further still to hold his face. You brought him down to kiss you, with your fingers slipping into his hair, and your nails dragging along his scalp. He hummed into your mouth.

“Miss me?” you teased.

Ben huffed. As usual though, his answer was in his actions. He held you close for a moment, just to feel you there.

Your arms slipped around his, clinging to his shoulders as you rested against him. This was your safe, comfortable place where you always felt at home.

But, you couldn’t help but break the spell.

“Come on. Clean up on aisle 12,” you quipped, reaching around to smack his ass.

Ben rolled his eyes, but when you pulled away from him, he followed you into the kitchen.

“You know, I had a lot going on. Your kid is a fucking menace,” he said. “Like a bull in a China shop.”

You scoffed. “She’s only my kid when she gives you a hard time. Where do you think she gets it from?”

“You,” he retorted.

You had to laugh at that one. It still didn’t get him out of helping you clean the kitchen from top to bottom.

After a long shower, waking an errant child from her nap, dinner, and a joint effort of getting Lila to sleep for the night, Ben joined you in bed wearing just his usual sweatpants.

You’d opted for some black satin, he noticed.

Good, he thought, for the night to come. You’d spent the whole day getting massaged and moisturized and whatever else women did on a day out.

When he rolled onto his side, you greeted him with a smile and a hand running up his arm, already pulling him toward you. His hand glided along your bare thigh as you hooked it over his hip.

“I need to tell you something, but you’ve gotta promise not to say anything to anyone,” you whispered in the small space between his face and yours, and you tapped his chin.

Ben raised a brow and squeezed your thigh. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait until long after he’d undressed you?

“What?” he asked.

“Annie’s pregnant!” you said with a wide smile. “Six weeks. She just told me today.”

Ben blinked at that one. “Is it Hughie’s kid?”

“Wha…of course, it is!”

“Wow. Guess he had it in him after all,” Ben remarked. “Who woulda thought.”

You shook your head, but his grin made you laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, through your remaining giggles, though you leaned forward and stole a kiss. It led Ben to want more, and more of you.

He started to ply you with slow, lazy kisses that grew deeper, becoming all-consuming as his tongue warred against yours. His hands dove under the satin covering your body, and his thumbs brushed the sides of your breasts.

“Maybe it’s time we go for number two,” he said.

You uttered another incredulous laugh, gripped a fist in his hair and tugged. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” Ben said. He rolled you onto your back and pinned you there. “Ain’t no way we’re stopping at one. Lila needs a brother.”

“You can’t even handle one,” you teased. Your hands slid up his arms and then down his chest. “Baby, we can talk about having more kids, but—”

“And? We’re talking now,” he said. He dipped his head to start kissing a hot, wet line down your neck. It made your breath falter and your back start to arch. Your hips shifted against his, trying to find friction. You could feel his length hardening against your thigh.

“Ben,” you warned, and implored, but the graze of his teeth on your neck made you shudder.

Your grip on his arms tightened. “Please…”

“Please what?” he smirked against your skin. His hips rocked against your heated core.

This conversation was going into a no man’s land very fast.

You literally took matters into your own hands…by reaching down and grasping your husband’s cock through his sweatpants. You gave him a demanding squeeze.

His breath hitched. Ben paused, unlatching from your neck, and turning his lips toward your cheek.

“I’m listening,” he said, in a gritted voice. You smirked.

“We can, and we will talk about this,” you promised. “Just not when you’re about to be balls-deep inside me.”

You were back on birth control anyway (the pill this time).

Ben chuckled. His hand reached up and smoothed your hair away from your forehead.

“Fine,” he conceded. A smirk grew across his face. “But we can still practice.”

A giggle fell from your lips, just before he claimed them once again.

AN: A little callback to the BMD Epilogue at the end there. 😂

What did you think about the father/daughter time? And do you think Ben won against either of the ladies in his life? 🤣

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, in a drama-filled episode, you and Ben do what you two do best in Calculated Risks:

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

▶️ Keep Reading: Calculated Risks

Soldier Boy Masterlist

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BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxoviennaa @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

#Green #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #Dad!Ben #new dad #father daughter feels #husband and wife spice #daughter OC #Soldier Boy imagine #BMD verse #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #Break Me Down verse #zepskies writes

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mxnhoo · 3 months ago

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to me. (l. hs)

"where's the trophy? he just comes runnin' over to me." ╰➤ athlete!heeseung x fem!reader ft jay, sunghoon, jake, riki (enha) genre. romance, fluff, basketball (majority of the plot LOL), semi-proofread w/c. 3.6k warnings. mentions of injuries/hospital, giving up on dreams, idk if this needs to be mentioned but a lot of praying cly's note. i tried my very best to recall all the basketball terms from when i still played in a team, and with the olympics taking over my tiktok, i just HAD to write something after seeing all those cute edits. hope ya'll enjoy this one! don't forget to like/reblog/comment if you did<3

now playing : the alchemy - taylor swift

Loud cheers reverberate from every corner of the room, each individual having their own team they were cheering for. The basketball court that centred the huge hall consisting of athletes that were running back and forth, bouncing the basketball and making moves that one could easily miss if you blinked. The athletes had serious expressions on their faces, anyone being able to immediately sense the tension as the game continues to progress. However, even with all the chaos that was happening, your gaze was fixated on one player, and one player only. Your boyfriend, Lee Heeseung.

Your eyes followed him as he sprinted from across the court, skillfully dribbling the ball with his hand as he successfully gets pass his opponents, finding himself open and having the opportunity to shoot a shot. He picked up the ball in his hands and took his shot for the hoop, the ball spinning around the hoop before finally falling in. You stood up in excitement and cheered loudly, the audience surrounding you quickly following and filling the area with loud cheers.

Heeseung, with his right hand dangling in the air after his shot, quickly curled his fingers into a fist and shook it in triumph, feeling proud after being able to help his team earn a point. The camera quickly panned to him, his face appearing in the big screen and he took the opportunity to nod his head and flash a pleased expression. He ran back to his court to defend, and while the opponents were still at the opposite end of the court dribbling towards them, Jay, who was Heeseung's teammate, took the opportunity to fistbump him.

As the opponents quickly approached, Heeseung stood in front of the dribbler, his feet never stepping beyond the 3-pointer line as he held his hands up, observing his opponent's every move and as his opponent quickly passed the ball, Heeseung made an attempt to intercept the pass and it succeeded, allowing him to take hold the ball and he wasted no time to dribble across the court again.

The opponents were quick to respond, and with them blocking Heeseung's way, he passed the ball to Jake who dribbled in, picking up the ball to do an lay-up which was quickly interrupted by his opponent's hand, the ball instantly being blocked and it flew behind Jake, the opponents having the ball again.

The match quickly went on and before you realised, it was already the break period before the last quarter. The scoreboard was currently a 1:2, and nervously glancing at the sidelines, you saw the athletes feeling clearly pressured, their realisations setting in that if they don't buckle up the next quarter, they were going to lose. Your eyes fell on Heeseung who was sitting on the bench, speaking to all of them with a serious expression on his face, probably coaching them. His teammates were all standing up, surrounding him and listening to him attentively as they listened his instructions on what to do next and right before they could finish their discussion, the referee blew his whistle to indicate the start of the next quarter. The different teams did their cheers accordingly before setting foot back into the court.

Heeseung prepared for the jump-ball, staring at the ball that the referee was holding between him and his opponent, and with the whistle blowing, the refereee threw the ball in the air and Heeseung jumped upwards, his hands reaching for the ball and flicking it towards him where Jake was. Jake took hold of the ball and dribbled in, managing to earn a point from a lay-up effortlessly despite the amount of tension he was feeling inside. Jake cried out in relief, his faith slowly crawling back to him as he managed to start off the quarter well for his team.

Points have been earned multiple sides from the two different teams, and currently, the opponents were ahead by 6 points. There were only 6 minutes left, and features of worry were taking over your featuresas many 'what-if''s filled your head. What if something goes wrong? What if Heeseung's hand starts to hurt again? What if he gets injured again? What if they don't win this quarter? Will they manage to do it? What if they don't win?

You bit your lip as you carefully watched the match, your fingers fidgeting as you aggressively rubbed the top of your thumbnail. The loud cheering that filled the entire hall slowly start to disappear as your head starts to get filled with the different thoughts. Your eyes that were fixated on Heeseung watched his every move, realising his serious expression as he observed the opponent, and you glanced at his right hand that was slightly shaking.

You recalled the moment when he had badly injured his right hand a few years back, how there were many sleepless nights in the hospital because the boy fractured his hand, leaving everyone worried that he possibly wouldn't be able to ball again for the rest of his life. You prayed every single night, shed so many tears, begged for a miracle to magically happen that he would just be okay again. That he can have the chance to achieve his dreams again.

The best day of your life, other than Heeseung asking you out a little before he got injured, was when the doctor announced that Heeseung would be just fine, but that he needed a year to fully recover, and that he wouldn't be able to play basketball the same way he used to. You remember the grief-striken expression on Heeseung's face when he found out, recalling those nights when he silently cried to himself which shattered your heart, but he never gave up, working hard constantly and earning himself an opportunity to play basketball again on his dream stage.

You recalled the days he had to practically re-learn basketball with his left hand, the journey becoming even more difficult since his left hand wasn't his dominant hand, but he was determined. He always woke up early to go to the gym, working out to achieve his ideal physique and then played basketball afterwards with his mates, using his right hand as minimally as possible.

You recalled one night when you and Heeseung were on a basketball date out, you in his jersey and him in his tank top, both of you just continuously doing bounce passes to each other as you both walked and looked into each other's eyes. The sun has set, the only source of light from the post lights in the court, and it was starting to get chilly. The cold breeze blew onto your faces and your hair lightly flowed in the air, and Heeseung gave you a smile that you'd never get tired of.

You both talked about random topics, whether it was about controversial questions such as "M&M or Skittles", or if it was about serious topics. One thing you'll never forget from that night was the sight of his exasperated look when he asked you, "Do you think I even have a chance?" while doing a hard bounce pass to you, the sound of the ball bouncing being the only thing that could be heard. He never specified what he meant, but you already knew.

He never admitted it, but you could tell that he was so close to giving up, and upon hearing his question, you immediately set the ball to the floor and walked to him, opening your arms and bringing him into a warm embrace.

It was an embrace he never knew he needed so much. An embrace of comfort, an embrace of reassurance. It's honestly pretty heartbreaking when it seems like you can't professionally play a sport you dedicated your entire life to. His whole world was crashing down.

You gently patted his back as you felt him cry out, nuzzling his face into your shoulders as you felt his tears on your skin. You hated to see him like this, you hated to see him so helpless and unfaithful.

"I know you'll make it," you speak up after a moment of silence, still continuing to pat his back slowly. "I'll always be here, Hee, I'm always supporting you."

That was the day you realised that it wasn't just his journey, it was a shared journey between the two of you. You pulled him up from his dark moments, and the bond between the two of you only depeened.

From that day on, Heeseung started to take trainings even more seriously, all while still taking care of his right hand, and you could see him drastically improve, whether it was his faith that he could achieve his dreams, his hand condition, or his skills in basketball in general.

You were so proud of him, and you never once gave up on him. And now you were watching your boy kill it on his dream stage, though you were worried something could happen to him again. Your teeth sunk hard onto your bottom lip until it formed a cut, but the pain didn't even register until you heaved a sigh of relief as your boyfriend scores another lay-up. 4 points gap.

All is good so far. They were closing the gap, and they had a chance to win. Everything is going well.

However, the sense of relief quickly crashed down as you looked at the clock and realised there was only about 4 minutes and 38 seconds left, panic starting to grow in you again. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn't even want to blink and your eyes were starting to dry out. You grabbed the waterbottle that was placed beside you and opened the cap, gulping down on it as you kept your eyes fixated on the ball, your eyes following it as it constantly gets passed from player to player.

Your breathing starts to pace up as you feel the anxiety inside you accumulate. Heeseung dribbles the ball, trying to strive in for a lay-up until the opponent brutally knocks into him onto the ground. You gasped loudly and stood up, your hand flying to your mouth as the crowd let out loud multiple "oooh" and "ahh"'s. The referee instantly blew his whistle and announced that there was a foul, giving Heeseung the opportunity to get 2 free-throws.

At this point, you didn't even care that Heeseung had the opportunity to score extra points to close the gap. You were only worried if he had gotten hurt in any way, watching as his teammates help him up from the ground and how his hand shakes more aggressively than earlier. You slowly sat back down on your seat, biting your lip and even tasting your own blood as you placed the palms of your hand together, almost as if you were praying to God that everything would be okay.

The camera panned to Heeseung who stood behind the free-throw line, bouncing the ball on the spot as he stares at the basketball net intensely, mentally taking his aim. His teammates and opponents all stared at him intensely, this nerve-wrecking moment possibly being a game-changer. The timer stopped, allowing Heeseung to take his own time to score, and as he picked up the ball, he shot his shot, his right hand dangling in the air.

One shot in. 3 points gap.

Everyone around you cheered and you felt the tension inside you ease down, realising that if he could still shoot just fine, he was probably okay and a small smile appeared on your face, praying for the best for his next shot. If he makes this shot, the gap between the two different teams would only be 2 points, and there was a high chance for them to be able to tie this quarter, and maybe even score more points than the other team if all goes well.

The room grew quiet, everyone staring at Heeseung as he bounces the ball once again, his eyes on the hoop as he takes aim once again, bringing the ball to his face just slightly below his eyes, and he takes his shot again, the ball going in and the number on the scoreboard for his team going up. Everyone cheered and you stood up again, bringing your hands to cover your face as you felt emotional. Your boyfriend was going to achieve his dreams of winning, you just know it, and you were going to be there to experience this achievement with him.

2 points to close the gap. 2 points until his dreams could possibly come true.

Heeseung roared out loud, looking at the camera once again, showing a rock hand gesture to the camera which you knew damn well was directed to you. You and him always enjoyed doing the rock hand gesture to tell each other "I love you" in sign language. You could see people in your peripheral vision mirroring Heeseung's hand gesture, and your heart warms up as you eventually do the same.

With the last 4 minutes and few seconds remaining, you can immediately feel the change in atmosphere. If the atmosphere was fierce earlier, you could say this one was suffocatingly intense. In the last few minutes, getting an opportunity to score was getting increasingly impossible and your worry returns once again, all the thoughts washing over you. You knew he could do it, you knew he had the skills to do it, but with the clock running, you'd hate to admit that your brain is starting to have second thoughts.

Since the quarter scoreboard was still a 1:2, if they win this quarter, the game would be tied and the game masters would then look at the total number of points scored. In the first quarter, Hee's team won with 34 points. Second quarter, the opponents won with 42 points, and 23 on the next. So this means the opponents currently have a total of 65 points, and if Hee's team is going to win, they'd need a total of 66 points, which also means 32 points alone in this quarter.

You looked at the current scoreboard, noticing how their current scores were a 30:32. 2 more points to catch up, and 3 more to take the lead and secure their win.

The fourth minute passes by, the ball being aggressively passed across the court and fought for.

The third minute passes by, and up till now none of the teams score. Your hands aggressively fidget against each other, and the audience grew silent, attentively watching as the match progresses.

The second minute, the opponents almost manage to score a lay-up, but Riki managed to block and get the rebound, managing to pass the ball to Sunghoon who dribbed swiftly across the court.

The last minute. The last minute for any magic to happen. Up till now, no teams have scored, and the supporters for the opponent team have basically relaxed in their seats, being sure that their team have secured their win already. You remained silent, along with the other supporters and you felt sweat trickle down your temple. Your breathing slowed down as your eyes flickered from player to player.

It was so evident that all the players were tired, and that they just wanted for everything to be over, and when you looked at Heeseung, the exhausted expression on his face broke your heart. He brushed his damp hair back with his hand, wiping his forehead with his jersey as he observed the opponent approaching him, preparing to make an attack.

30 seconds.

The opponent managed to dribble past him, catching Heeseung off-guard and causing him to fall on his butt. Your face turned sour as you watched the scene unfold in front of your very eyes, watching how the opponent picks up the ball to do a lay-up while Heeseung was still on the ground.

25 seconds.

Jake jumps in front of the opponent, successfully jumping the ball from going in and the ball flew to the air, all the athletes eyeing the ball and finding every opportunity to get the rebound. Sunghoon jumped into the air and took the ball, an opponent running up to him in an attempt to snatch the ball away.

20 seconds.

Sunghoon and the opponent continue to snatch, Sunghoon yelling out that he needed someone to be open, and Jake immediately responded to his call, stepping into an area where there were no defenders. Sunghoon successfully wins the ball, and passes the ball to Jake, and you could see Heeseung standing back up to his feet, his state so obviously weakened.

15 seconds.

Jake now has the ball, and he dribbles across the court. Heeseung was still at the opposite end of the court, at the brink of fainting as his teammates try their damn best to score at least another shot. Jake was frantically blocked by the opponents, not having any opportunities to strive in or shoot, so he tries to find anyone open to pass to.

"Heeseung! C'mon!" Jake calls out, immediately causing Heeseung to snap back and run towards the other court where all the other athletes were.

10 seconds.

Heeseung runs outside the 3-pointer line, holding his hands up for Jake to pass the ball to him, but one of the opponents constantly block the pathway between Jake and Heeseung, making it difficult for Heeseung to be able to receive the ball. However, there was a moment when the opponent let his guard down, allowing Jake to successfully pass the ball to Heeseung.

5 seconds.

Heeseung, standing outside the 3-pointer line, takes his last chance to shoot his shot, praying that this shot makes it.

Everyone remained silent, their eyes watching the ball.

The sounds of the ball perfectly falling in between the hoop echoed through the whole hall, and the ball bouncing on the ground after the shot was the only thing that could be heard.

They did it. They won.

33:32. Quarter scores were a 2:2, but with the points accumulated, they won.

The referee blew his whistle to indicate the end of the quarter, and he announced, "Winning team, ENHA!".

All his teammates cheered, and you couldn't believe it. Your jaw dropped, and you could feel tears forming in your eyes from how elated you felt. You watched Heeseung, observing as he scans the crowd, and as he spots you, his face immediately lighting up with a wide grin. He's now walking towards you.

Walking. Jogging. He's running. Running to you, sprinting, even.

You subconsciously walk towards him on the bleachers, watching him approach you behind the railings and once he was at close proximity, he opened his arms and embraced you. Embraced you so tightly you felt like you were going to explode. You hugged him back with the same amount of tightness, feeling the tears escape your eyes, having no words to explain how jubilant you felt. You both exchanged no words, but he knew how proud you were of him. Multiple reporters surround him, holding their cameras to him to take photos of him and capture the moment between the two of you. He pulled back from the hug to immediately cup your cheeks and pull his lips to yours.

You cried into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and he kissed you so passionately. His mouth moved in such a slow rhythm, taking his time to enjoy how perfect your lips were on his, how you complemented him so well. You felt your heart pick up the pace, almost feeling like it was going to explode, and you immediately felt blood rush to your cheeks. Loud cheers could be heard from every corner of the room, but with his lips on yours, the sounds gradually started to fade, the only thing that mattered being you and Heeseung.

Heeseung didn't experience this win alone, he experienced it with you.

He pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as he intensely looks into your eyes to form eye contact and he gives you his cheeky smile. "I did it. We did it, love."

"You did it," you look at him as tears continue to flow out of your eyes, caressing his cheek and he laughs at how emotional you were. He used both of his thumbs to wipe your tears, cupping your jaw as he gives you the smile that made you fall in love with him

"We.. did it. I couldn't have done this without you, love," he stares at you, his eyebrows arching upwards as he gives you his cute pout. The way he emphasised 'We' didn't go unnoticed, and you laugh, leaning in closer and your noses touch, closing your eyes as you give him the biggest smile.

"I'm so proud of you baby, hope you know that." "I know that very well." "Anyways, what're you doing with me? You should go celebrate with your teammates," you chuckled, and your chest felt fuzzy at how the first thing he did was run to you. "I don't need to," he retorts. "What about your trophy, baby?" you pouted. "The only trophy I need is already here with me."

You chuckled at how cheesy he sounded, opening your eyes only to be met with his serious gaze.

"I'm being serious, Y/N, you're the only thing I could care about at this moment," he confessed. You felt butterflies fill your stomach as your hands playfully smack his chest. "Thank you Heeseung, for winning." "I love you," he blurts out, which catches you off-guard but you laughed at how genuine he was. "I love you more."

And he pulled you into another kiss to celebrate his victory.

cly's tmi. before this song trended on tiktok and the olympics started, my friend and i had already talked about this song and i've been wanting to write about it for like.. 3 months now. i'm so happy i finally managed to do it, and can i just talk about how SWEET this song is? i don't really listen to taylor swift much but this song hits so hard.

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 5 months ago

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 32

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Threats of SA; Threats of harming an infant; Distressed baby

Rick had stopped at every sign, letting you out while Carol or Lori cared for Birdie. You had used a tube of the baby’s diaper cream to paint a white bird on each surface. There were likely better things you have used but this one, you knew Daryl would understand and follow. Anxiety was slowly crushing your chest and try as you might to swallow it down, it was nearly impossible to bear.

It was at least an hour of Birdie crying restlessly before the warehouse was found. The dead surrounding it were little in number, easily dispatched by those that weren’t a child, pregnant woman, or one who had a baby suckling at her breast. You carried a bag on each shoulder into the building, wishing it were enough to help you feel like you were doing your part.

You sat away from the door, knowing that’s where Daryl would have placed you and his daughter, furthest from any entry point. It was also to hinder her cries from attracting anymore walkers. She was inconsolable, something—mother’s intuition, perhaps—telling you that she had been made worse by the absence of her father. And as much as you loved their bond, you wondered how dangerous it could prove to be to encourage it.

“I said leave it, Lori!”

Your head snapped up to find Rick stalking toward the door with his wife on his heels, her hands below her protruding belly as she attempted to keep up with him. “Rick. Rick, we need to talk this out!”

“No!” He barked. “What we need to do is survive, and we can’t do that if I don’t stay focused.” When she tried again, he turned with a shake of his head, leaving her there with tears in her eyes.

“Lori.” You whispered, getting to your feet. It was difficult to get off the floor with a baby but you managed. You couldn’t stand to see her like that. No, Lori wasn’t perfect and she made a mistake. She had been alone with a child, acting out of fear once she had been told her husband was dead. Maybe she had loved Shane. Maybe she hadn’t. No one talked about it and perhaps they shouldn’t. It was all irrelevant anyway. Lori was there and pregnant and hurting so deeply. “Hey.”

“Oh. Hey, uh—” The woman turned and wiped at her eyes as if you hadn’t already noticed the glimmer of moisture. “Hey, Y/N.” Her eyes were drawn down to the wriggling bundle in your arms, little squeaks and sniffles escaping from behind the blanket. “How’s little Birdie?”

“She’s fine.” You lied, flinching when the newborn screeched. Taking a moment to move her onto your shoulder and begin patting her back, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I think she’s missing Daryl.”

“Yeah.” A gentle hand reached to pet the back of Birdie’s head. “Y/N, I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Lori was always so strong for everyone, her thoughts on the decisions that would affect the group never going unspoken. But then, at that moment, she sounded so small, so uncertain.

“Don’t be.” You caught her hand before she could pull it back, holding it tightly. “I love Rick but he’s wrong. He’s wrong and he’ll realize it. I’m just so sorry that he’s hurting you like this in the meantime.” You stood by your words. Rick was trying to do what was right for the group, but even that was being influenced by the anger he harbored. For Shane. For Lori. For himself.

“I deserve it.

You blinked, mouth agape. “You do not!” You shook your head incredulously. “Look, you made a mistake. Doesn’t mean you need to pay for it over and over.” She mimicked you, her hair swinging back and forth.

“No, I really do.”

“Lori.” You said pointedly. She looked you in the eye, face wet and flushed. “I get it. You were angry with him for what he did to Shane. It was a lot to take in and maybe your first reaction wasn’t the best one, but you’re trying to talk now, trying to understand. He’ll come around.” You gave a shrug. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll sic Daryl on him.” You smiled when she laughed wetly.

Lori reached for your shoulders, pulling you in for a wide hug that angled to one side, Birdie and her belly making it laughable. “Thank you, Y/N.” She wiped her face with one hand, cupping yours with the other. “You know, I was a fool for thinking you were trouble when Daryl carried you out of those trees. I’m sorry for that.”

You waved dismissively with a quiet pfft. “Don’t worry about it. I am trouble.” Her smile dampened but didn’t disappear.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Birdie began to root against your neck with a series of coos and squeaks. “And we wouldn’t have this angel if you weren’t.”

Chuckling you began to wiggle your arm out of your shirt, Lori stepping forward to help. “Now if I can just get her daddy to eat as much as she does, we’ll be set.” Before you could situate your bra, the baby began to fuss, growing louder with each cry.

“Well, she sure sounds like her father.”

“Facts.” You nodded, grinning and guiding Birdie to your breast. “Grab Carl and come sit with me? We can work on some math.”

The sun had set, the knot in your chest growing tighter with each minute that Daryl didn’t walk through the door. Beth had taken Birdie to give you a few minutes of peace with Carol sitting just behind you.

“He’ll be here. Daryl’s smart. And so are you for the signs you left for him.” She was brushing your hair, pampering you the only ways she knew how with the limited means at her disposal.

“I hope he’s okay. What if he’s hurt? What if he ran into the herd?” You were twisting the front of the sweater you had thrown on when the temperature had dropped even lower.

“He’s smart, Y/N.” You heard the quiet sound of the brush being sat aside. The woman’s hands began to work at your shoulders, eliciting a moan from you and a chuckle from her. “He’ll be here.” You nodded, hearing Birdie begin to cry in the back of the warehouse.

“I’m being summoned.” You jested. Carol was smiling when you turned around and levered to your feet. Birdie was still crying, the sound echoing like a scene out of a horror movie. “Carol.” Your voice had gone low, serious. “Why isn’t Beth bringing her?”

“She’s likely trying to soothe her on her own. She looks up to you and wants to help.”

Beth looked up to you? Oh, that poor child. You were no one’s role model.

You listened for a moment more, your brow creasing, lips turning downward in a deep frown. “Carol.” You waited for her reply before continuing. “You remember how you told me that I would be able to tell the difference between cries?”

“Yeah?”

“I think this one is telling me something’s wrong.” Your stomach was churning, the knot of anxiety twisting in your chest was no longer for Daryl but for Birdie, a deep sense of foreboding that your child was affirming. Something. Was. Wrong.

“Okay. Okay, let’s go check in then.”

You nodded, feet moving with such haste that it took the other woman a quick jog to catch up. Birdie’s squalling had reached a new level, the breaths between cries barely audible in their stuttering. Without thought, you began to run, your tired body attempting to futilely resist.

“Beth? Carl?” You shouted, the sounds of snarls and hands slapping the outside of the building growing louder with each inch of space you covered. “Beth!” The girl wasn’t answering. Lori and Maggie frantically called your name from somewhere behind you but Birdie’s desperate wails for her mother easily drowned them out.

When you saw her, so small and fragile on the cold concrete, little limbs flailing, nothing else mattered. There was no blanket. No knit hat on her head. She was in only a diaper.

“Oh god, Birdie!” What happened? Where were Beth and Carl? You didn’t stop, you needed your baby in your arms. The reasoning no longer mattered. You needed to ensure her well being before asking any questions. Nearly there, you exhaled.

“Y/N, look out!”

Without breaking stride, you turned toward Rick’s voice just in time to see the butt of the rifle.

And then there was nothing.

Your head was throbbing, your pulse finding its way up to where the wet warmth was leaking from just above your right eyebrow. Struggling to open your eyes, you strained to focus through the rush of blood in your ears, the pounding of dead hands on the building’s exterior, desperately locating your baby’s panicked screeching.

“Birdie.” You whispered, certain it was slurring. Your mouth just couldn’t form around the syllables. When everything finally cleared, you could see her. The tremble from the cold shook her tiny form. “Oh my god.” You whispered, attempting to struggle to your feet only to find that your hands were bound to a weighty shipping palette.

Subduing your panic long enough to survey your surroundings, the glow of three kerosene lamps cast a pale yellow luminosity over the entirety of your group—similarly bound—with Rick and Beth struggling against the rope while the other heads remained bowed in a subdued level of unconsciousness. You turned your attention back to your newborn and renewed your fight against the restraints, your skin chafing and breaking open.

“Mama’s here, baby girl.” Birdie would not be consoled. If anything, she grew more agitated.

“So you’re the one stupid enough to have a shit-smearing biter magnet.”

Your head snapped to the left, toward the roll-up doors. A group you hadn’t noticed leaned against the metal, armed to the teeth and reeking of mayhem.

“The fuck do you want?” You snarled, a protective mother’s venom lacing every word.

The single woman in the posse laughed, malicious and entertained. “Some fun.” She shrugged, her face split into a grin that made your teeth itch. “That’s really all there is left in this world. Survival and fun.” Lowering her rifle from its perch on her shoulder, she crossed the distance between the two of you and crouched. “We’re gonna take everything you have.” A finger traced your jawline, down your neck and circled your clothed nipple. “Everything.”

“Then we’re gonna let that gremlin bring the biters in to take care of the rest.” One of the men added without so much as a glance away from his handgun, the walkers growing louder as if they could hear and comprehend the promise of a fresh meal.

Giving your breast a squeeze, the woman stood, scanning your group appreciatively before her eyes lingered on Lori. “Boys, you can take that one. I got no interest in that full belly.” She pointed the barrel of her gun at you. You never so much as flinched, your baby’s wails fueling a rage you’d never before felt. “I want her. And the kids.”

“You’re vile.” Hershel said in that level tone that usually ground on your nerves. In that moment, you found it more than fitting.

“Ugh,” the female rolled her eyes. “Kill him first. No one wants those wrinkly old balls in their face.”

The words left you before you could even consider their consequences. “You’re gonna die today.” When she smirked at you, your steely glare remained. She lowered to a knee and pressed the muzzle into your chin. You barely contained a wince when your head was forced to tilt back.

“What I’m gonna do is fuck that ruined pussy with this rifle and listen to your baby scream.”

Twisting onto your left hip, you brought up your right leg, your boot connecting with her temple just as she sat back. “Bitch.” You seethed, watching her topple over. Another man rushed you, his fist snapping your head to the side, reigniting the stars in your vision that you had only just managed to lose.

“She’s gonna be fun, boys.” Staggering to her feet, she stumbled over to Birdie and pointed the rifle at the infant’s head. “Maybe I’ll just shoot the little one and let your screams bring the biters in when we’re done with you.”

“No!” Your anger faded to fear within a split second, the various voices of your then conscious and collective group pleading for your baby’s life. “Okay, okay. I’ll cooperate!” You bartered. “Just wrap her up. Please.”

“I don’t think so, mama bear.”

A noise from the front of the warehouse drew her attention, but not yours. Your wide, wet eyes were glued to that gun aimed at your daughter. Please, Daryl.

“Think the biters got in?” An older guy asked, hocking up mucus and spitting it at your feet.

“Maybe. Go check it out.”

He obliged with a shrug, whistling the entire way until he disappeared into the darkness.

The taunting continued, the other three group members moving from person to person, pointing out in disturbingly vivid detail what they liked or disliked about that individual. You paid them no more mind, instead watching the little contorted red face of your baby girl. You couldn’t warm her, comfort her. How could I let this happen?

“What the fuck?”

Blinking back the fat tears you had given silent permission to fall, you followed everyone’s perplexed gazes toward the front of the warehouse. The old man staggered out of the darkness, a spray of blood his predecessor. His throat was gaping wide.

“Gary?” The woman hyperventilated, her rifle nearly falling from suddenly inept fingers as his body collapsed to the concrete, not to move again. He must have meant something to her.

Good. You smiled wryly.

“Come out!” One of the other men shouted, prompting crazy lady to raise her own weapon.

Your eyes flickered back to Birdie, yanking and wiggling against your bonds again, the ropes wet with your blood and unyielding. The baby was wearing herself out, cries simmering to shivering breaths and hiccups. The ropes did not give. Bitch could tie a knot, you’d give her that.

“Oh.” The woman’s voice was suddenly excited as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “I think papa bear’s joined the party.” She made a show of deliberately placing herself just above Birdie, moving her rifle a fraction of an inch before you watched Daryl, blood-saturated and dirty, step out of the shadows.

“Don’t point that thing at ‘er again.” He wasn’t pleading. He was demanding.

The woman’s eyes sparkled, her free hand covering her mouth in an oopsie expression while she redirected the gun—finger on the trigger—right at you. “Is this better, your majesty?” In a flurry of clicks and shouted warnings, Daryl’s crossbow was aimed at her while all other weapons held him in their crosshairs.

“M’a give ya one chance to walk outta here.”

She cackled, throwing back her head. “I don’t think you’re—”

“One chance.” Daryl repeated, his mouth unseen from behind his weapon. “Ya’d do well to take it.” There was a tremble to his frame visible even from the distance that lay between you. If you could see it, so could they. The only difference being that you knew it wasn’t from fear.

“I want him too.” The woman jerked her chin toward your partner. “Put down the bow, pretty boy. You’re not gonna waste any ammo today.”

“Won’t be a waste.” With a quick twist of his torso, three things happened simultaneously: The crossbow fired. The ropes around your wrists went slack, the sleek length of the bolt pressing just against your skin. And Daryl stepped back into the shadows, a barrage of bullets following his retreat.

With the enemies’ attention on the unknown whereabouts of the archer, you scrambled across the floor and scooped up your baby, throwing yourself backward onto your ass to slide behind the pallets that had held you. Her skin was so chilled, her tiny frame shivering as her distressed cries renewed in their intensity.

“Mama’s got you, baby. Daddy’s here. Daddy came for us. It’s okay.” One arm at a time, you managed to pull yourself free of your sweater and bundled her up. You drew up your knees and held her close to your chest, shielding and warming her simultaneously. “They won’t touch you again.”

Glass shattered, the area dimming as a bolt destroyed one of the old lamps.

“Come out, you bastard!”

Another lamp fell victim to Daryl’s aim.

“Where is he?”

With a final sound that echoed for more than a moment, the environment was cast into darkness with only the myriad of gunfire battling the shadows that Daryl was using to his advantage. With each discharge, you curled tighter around your daughter, her howls splintering every inch of your heart. You longed to hold her properly, soothe her, fight away the fear that clawed relentlessly to sink its claws into such a space of innocence. You wanted to join the fray, rip out their throats, but Birdie needed you exactly where you were.

And she would always come first.

The number of weapons that fired continued to dwindle, the cling of metal against the concrete preceded by a shout or gurgle.

Your archer was taking them down one by one.

You wanted to see it, wanted to witness them suffer, even if it was for a mere moment but you couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk Birdie’s safety.

“Someone get him!”

“Where the hell is he?!”

“The fuck should I—” Another gurgle, another thud.

“Fuck!” The woman screamed, her voice carrying from somewhere further away. You couldn’t be certain if Daryl had intercepted her or if she was simply fleeing, but as long as she was far away from your group—your family—you didn’t care.

“Y/N.” Carol’s voice somehow managed to break through the chaos in your head, your eyes searching her out in the darkness. “Y/N, he got them. Can you—”

“Yeah.” You breathed shakily, unfurling from around Birdie to shuffle blindly forward, bowed over the little bundle to ensure you didn’t knock her into anything that might be in your way. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

You found Rick first, cutting his ropes one-handed with a piece of glass from one of the lamps. Lucky you, it had been found by sliding your knee over it.

“Take care of her, I’ll get everyone else.” He instructed. You nodded, knowing the deputy couldn’t see but it was all you had in you at that moment.

“Where’s Daryl?” Beth asked, her young mind falling right into sync with yours.

Why hadn’t he come to you immediately? Was he hurt? Had he given chase to the woman?

You squinted against the flashlight’s beam, one eye clenching shut as you found Carol kneeling over one of the men, a bolt lodged in the right side of his neck. His head was at an odd angle, suggesting that the puncture had not been the end for him.

With your family surrounding you, all eyes wide and cautious, looking for danger, watching for Daryl, you finally settled but only in the slightest. Muscles still tense, you shifted Birdie, drawing up your knees to place her on your elevated thighs.

“Hey, there, little Dixon. Ssh, it’s all okay now.” Slipping a hand beneath the sweater, the relief of feeling warming skin nearly brought you to collapse.

“How is she doing?” Hershel asked, his voice elevated to be heard clearly over the distraught infant. Your strength was nearly at its end.

“She’s cold, Hershel. It—the sweater’s helping but she’s still so cold.” Your fingers were stroking her cheeks, brushing through wispy blonde hair, rubbing her belly over the sweater while careful of the drying umbilical cord.

“Babies are resilient, Y/N. And this little doll just happens to have the genes of one of the most stubborn men I have had the pleasure of knowing.” A gentle hand rested on your shoulder. “I’d like to take a look at her all the same. May I?”

With a sniffle, you lifted Birdie, her tiny head just beneath your chin. One last gentle squeeze, you supported her head and passed her over to the veterinarian, scrubbing your hands over your face as you stood. You must have looked a wreck, but you needed to find Daryl, needed to hold him almost as desperately as you had needed to cling to your child.

“Please! Just let me go!”

You spun where you stood, searching out the woman. “Daryl?”

“Were ya gonna let them go?” Daryl’s voice was menacing, his tone low and bleeding with promise of maleficence. You were acutely aware of others trailing as you followed the voices, moving boxes and stepping around tools to climb the stairs to the second level.

“I—”

“Mm-mm. Don’t.” He spat, the sound of more containers falling over against the wall. “Don’t bother.”

He came into view a little at a time, more with each step you climbed. His crossbow was on the floor. His crimson hands were empty. Still, the woman cowered, backing toward the windows with her body folded, palms up over her head in surrender.

“Daryl!” You tried, but he didn’t acknowledge you.

“Just let me go. I’m the only one left and I—Please, I don’t wanna die.”

Suddenly your feet wouldn’t carry you, heavy laden and stuck to the floor with the weight of your disbelief. You wanted to laugh just as much as you wanted to pluck the knife strapped to Daryl’s hip and slit her throat yourself.

“Ya threatened my girl. Ya wanted to use my daughter as walker bait!” The archer hissed, his fingers flexing in and out of fists. “A fuckin’ baby an’ ya wanted to kill ‘er.”

You could hear the others at the top of the stairs, halting just behind you with the same interest of watching the scene play out, trusting Daryl to do what was right.

But what was right?

“Ain’t gonna kill ya.” He finally said, tilting his head as the woman began to stand straight, the fear dissolving before your eyes. Daryl was a better person than you could ever be. If he walked away, it was going to take every single individual on that landing to restrain you.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry. Thank you. I’ll disappear, I’ll change. I won’t—”

He moved so fast, grabbing her shoulders while driving the sole of his boot straight into her knee, the sickening snap of bone causing your stomach to roll while a sense of vindication washed over you.

She needed to hurt. She needed to suffer.

Her screams stimulated the walkers around the building, their rotten fingers scraping against the metal, palms pounding, teeth gnashing.

Daryl spoke loudly, holding her up by fistfuls of her shirt, his face inches from hers. “Said I ain’t gonna kill ya. Never said ya weren’t gonna die.” He shoved her, his boot once again connecting with her body, a kick to the abdomen with enough force to send her soaring backward. She crashed through the window, nothing but the splintered wood and shards of glass accompanying her to the ground.

Straight into the herd of ravenous undead.

And her blood curdling wails of agony were music to your ears.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #blood ties #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #dad!daryl #daddy!daryl #baby dixon

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obsesssedblerd · 3 months ago

Text

“Are… Are you sure that you don’t want me to go with you?”

At Choso’s question, Yuuji Itadori stops packing his bag for school and turns to face him. Is he nervous? Of course, but he’s in high school now. If he doesn’t start doing things on his own now, then he never will. After placing one of the bag’s straps on one shoulder, he gives him an easy smile. “I’ll be fine, aniki,” he says softly. “I promise.”

His older brother doesn’t look too convinced, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, he smiles in return and ruffles his pink hair. “Alright, have a good first day. Call me if you need anything.”

Yuuji rides to school on his bike—a neat birthday present from his uncle Sukuna. That guy is wild and reckless, but anyone could tell that he had a soft spot for both Yuuji and Choso, and made sure that they had everything that they needed. When he arrives, he maneuvers his way through crowds of equally-nervous first years, already being approached by second and third years looking for members to join their clubs that meet after school. Choso recommended to Yuuji that he join a club, but he didn’t know exactly which one to join.

A boy his age walks past him, and Yuuji stops, his eyes slightly widening as he takes in the sight of him. Though he’s wearing a uniform like everyone else, Yuuji decides that it looks the best on him. He’s tall and fair-skinned, and his dark hair is spiky—a little messy, too, but it looks good. His eyes—the prettiest pair that Yuuji has ever seen in his fifteen years of living—are a dark blue and framed with long lashes, and Yuuji’s immediately trying to memorize the exact shade.

Whoa.

He wants to say hi, but he notices the headphones on the boy’s ears. Should he introduce himself? Hi, I’m Yuuji Itadori. I think you’re pretty- What? No, that’s ludicrous. Hey, dude, I’m Yuuji, we should totally be friends, by the way you’re cute. Ugh, still a bit ridiculous. He needs to think of something different. Maybe-

“Hey, don’t hit it over there! The door’s wide open!!” A student from inside the gymnasium shouts, and suddenly, a sports ball flies in the direction of the boy Yuuji’s been stupidly staring at. It’s coming too fast, and when Yuuji warns him, it’s not loud enough for him to hear over his music.

Thinking quickly, Yuuji dashes and then jumps high, slamming the ball away before it could hit him in the head. Because of it, he crashes into him, and they both fall to the ground. The boy underneath him groans, and Yuuji gasps, scrambling to his feet and holding out a hand to help him up. “I’m so sorry!” He says, a little breathless from his running and from how cute this dark-haired boy is, “That ball was going to hit you, and um, I tried calling out to you but your headphones were on. Are you alright?!”

He blinks a couple of times, then looks over at the ball, which another student is retrieving, a little stunned from watching Yuuji hit it. “I’m alright,” he mumbles. “Thank you.” He gently grabs his hand, and Yuuji pulls him up. As he watches him brush his uniform off, numerous sentences to break the ice rapidly bounce back and forth in Yuuji’s mind. Finally, he settles on one. “Uh, nice headphones.” They do look quite expensive. His parents must make a lot of money.

“Thanks,” he mumbles again. Hm, not much of a talker.

Yuuji doesn’t mind. He flashes him his usual grin. “What’s your name?”

“Fushiguro.”

Ah, last name. “I’m Itadori.”

“Nice meeting you, Itadori,” he says, then readjusts the bag on his shoulder. “See you around. Thanks again.”

“Oh, uh, see you later!” Yuuji calls as he begins to walk off, feeling very excited all of a sudden. He’ll definitely be seeing him around.

He smiles to himself, then begins to brush off his clothes. “Fushiguro, huh?” he mutters, then becomes aware of just how heated his face was. No, just a hot day. Totally not blushing.

“You there!!”

Yuuji looks over to see the student that retrieved the ball he hit earlier pointing at him. “Uh… me?” he asks after looking around to see if anyone else was nearby.

“Yes, you!” The student is more on the shorter side, with bright orange hair and a determined grin. “What’s your name?”

“Yuuji Itadori. I’m a first year.”

“Shoyo Hinata, also a first year!” He exclaims excitedly. “Are you thinking about joining the volleyball club?! That spike was incredible!!”

-----

a/n: yuuji and shoyo would've been the BEST of friends. the way i screamed when reading jjk265 and learning that yuuji grew up in (or around?) sendai. his ass should've been at karasuno worrying about making it to nationals instead of fighting these damn curses lmfaoooo

#jujutsu kaisen #haikyuu #jjk x haikyuu!!#yuuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #itafushi #itafushi au #written by rey <3 #haikyuu shoyo #shoyo hinata #jjk yuuji #choso kamo #yuuji fluff #i love writing crossovers lmao

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supervillainny · 3 months ago

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Kill your darlings

For the sake of the outline, a Steddie snippet darling that may or may not be killed:

By the time the sound of an engine rolled through the air he was feeling a lot better-disposed to life, the universe, and everything. He’d migrated to the floor of the van, lying with one knee hitched up, the stained sleeping bag that cushioned the band’s amps on Tuesdays balled up awkwardly under his back, so it took an undignified bit of craning to see what the hell was going on when someone rapped their knuckles gently against the open door of his van.

“...Harrington?”

Harrington was standing with his hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised judgmentally at the sprawl of limbs that Eddie had melted into.

“You were expecting someone else?”

Eddie started to shove himself up onto his elbows but the van shifted ominously under him, so he inched himself inelegantly across the floor of the van until he could hook his legs over the bumper and carefully push himself upright.

“I was expecting,” he huffed as he moved, “to walk back to my trailer.”

“What’s the matter, Munson,” Harrington said, a little sing-song, a little mocking, “you never changed a tire before?”

Eddie flicked the long-dead butt of his joint at Harrington’s head, smirking as he ducked out of the way.

“Swear to god, Harrington, if I had the lug wrench I needed I’d be bouncing it off your cranium right about now.”

It should probably be humiliating, how little effect that had - Harrington just rolled his eyes at the threat and beckoned Eddie to follow him with a bitchy little toss of his head that made Eddie want to set his teeth into the line of Harrington’s neck and bite down hard. It made his mouth water. It needed to fucking not.

“So you don’t have any damsels in your whole Demons and Dragons thing?”

“It’s dungeons. Dungeons and dragons.”

Harrington flapped a dismissive hand. “Dungeons, demons, draculas, whatever. No damsels?”

Fuck it. Fuck it. If Harrington’s fall from grace meant that he spent more time hanging out with freshmen nerds than people like Tommy Hagan - Eddie lounged against the side of Harrington’s Bimmer, the picture of nonchalance as his heart beat against the wall of his chest like it wanted to be anywhere but here.

“You never heard the rumors, Harrington? Damsels aren’t exactly my area,” he drawled.

There was a moment of complete stillness. It was like that strange sharp-edged sunlight right before the storm rolls in, a moment of preternatural quiet and clarity that had every single one of Eddie’s muscles coiling in readiness to move, to run.

Then Harrington just unlocked the trunk of his car like nothing had happened. That was reassuring for all of half a second, until Eddie saw the -

“Jesus Christ, Harrington, what did you do to that bat?” It slid out of his mouth without thought, absolutely no intervention of brain. It was pretty clear what he had done to the bat - the splintered wood, the nails, the stains, oh Jesus - and it was like being dunked into ice water. Eddie flung himself away from the car, backing off on unsteady legs, and Harrington looked at him, confused for a second, and then flipped a blanket over the weapon he’d seen. Which was. Better? That was better than him grabbing hold of it, sure, but Eddie was still moving away.

“Munson.” His palms were raised and his voice was soothing, gentle, and Eddie backed off a couple more steps and almost glanced at the ground behind him because he felt like he was on a cliff-edge, like he was teetering, like at any moment the ground might disappear. You don’t take your eyes off predators, though. Eddie didn’t even blink.

“Munson,” Harrington said, and then, pleading, “Eddie,” and it was a new and exciting discovery, finding out that even when he was scared out of his goddamned mind his dick was still paying attention. An icy fear-snake was slithering its way up his spine and he still knew that he’d be coming back to his name in that pleading tone again and again, later. Given a later, of course.

“You gonna kill me?” he asked, and his voice didn’t even sound like his. “‘Cos I am not -” he bit off the word as his voice gave way, screwing up his face for a second like that could stave off the tightness in his throat - “I am not ready to die, man. I’m not fucking ready.” His voice echoed across the parking lot, registering his complaint with the universe, because it wasn’t like there was anyone else around to give a damn.

“Eddie,” Harrington said again in that low, soothing voice, “I swear to you, that bat’s for monsters only.”

Eddie choked out a laugh that was at least a half an inch from a sob. “Sure. Monsters and fairies and queers, oh my.”

“Demogorgons,” Harrington said, and Eddie almost tripped over himself, stopping stock still for a second as his brain took up all available processing power to try and figure out what the fuck.

“Demogorgons,” he repeated, his voice flat, all emotion startled right out of it.

“I’m just here to help change your tire, man, I swear,” Harrington said, and fished inside his car - another shot of awful adrenaline - before pulling out a lug wrench and slamming the trunk closed.

Eddie wasn’t much help, when it came to it. He mostly sat on the curb and smoked furiously through another joint, his hands trembling faintly and gut slowly untwisting as Harrington heaved and twisted and tightened and loosened. The guy hauled off his preppy jacket at one point, and Eddie decided that he basically had tacit permission to stare at the great things that tire-hauling did to Harrington’s biceps. Call it therapy.

(At one point Harrington came to sit next to him for a second, sweating lightly and radiating heat. He plucked the joint from between Eddie’s shaking fingers and took a long drag, holding his breath as he handed it back before letting it out in a slow curl of dragon-smoke.

“I have… queer friends,” he said, handling the word delicately like he was using silver sugar tongs, and at Eddie’s startled sideways glance, firmer, “I’m not telling you who. But I - you’re safe with me, man.”

The weight off Eddie’s shoulders had him sliding a little sideways, a second of contact that made Harrington huff out something like a laugh.)

“There,” Harrington said eventually, pushing his hair back from his forehead and leaving a streak of grease in its place. La, Eddie thought faintly, my stockings, and choked out a cloud of smoke. His inelegant snorting had Harrington’s mouth twitching into something like a smile, and Eddie couldn’t help but return it with a wide grin.

“Thanks, man,” he said. For the tire, for the lug wrench, for not being a homophobic asshole? Sure. Why not all of the above.

“You’re okay getting home?”

“Jesus,” Eddie said, shaking his head and shoving to his feet, where he - lion-tamer, circus act down to his soul - stepped forward and leaned right in close. “You have got to do something about that hero complex, man.”

“Dunno what to tell you,” Harrington said, all sorts of soft. “Damsels? Definitely my area.” And his finger was warm when he reached up to touch Eddie’s chin, push his mouth closed with a click. Eddie was still standing there, mind nothing but static, when Harrington’s BMW pulled away.

#steddie #steddie fic

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analogwriting · 7 months ago

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Beer Pong

Killer x gn!reader word count: 3.3k a/n: this idea came to me while i was obliterated and playing beer pong. the only thing i could think of was how much i wanted killer to rail me. also disclaimer, i'm actually ASS at beer pong lmfao. also also, only one version of this one bc it doesn't quite go that far whoops

“C’mon! Who else wants to challenge the undefeated champ of beer pong?” Your voice was loud enough for people to hear over the thumping music of the party that you and your brother were hosting.

It was the same every year. The two of you would host an end of the year party and invite all of your friends, have them invite their friends who invited their friends and so on. It was one of the biggest parties of the year every year. It’s been a tradition at this point for about five or six years.

“I think you’ve officially defeated everyone, Bigs.” Your younger brother, Kid, chimed as he walked into the room you were in. This was also the same every year. Those who have been to the parties before knew how ruthless you were at beer pong. Some of them never tried challenging you again, some would practice throughout the year just to take you on again. Newcomers also challenged you. However, no one was able to beat you for the past three years.

You huffed, folding your arms. “That’s so lame!” How much you drank didn’t affect your ability to win either. You were somewhat sloshed and still crushing everyone at the party.

“I’ll challenge them,” you heard a deep voice come from behind you. The room you were in had several different entrances. You looked behind you, seeing the finest piece of man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. Motherfucker took your breath away - almost. You blinked.

“Killer! You made it!” You turned, seeing your brother walking over to him to greet him. You watched in confusion for a moment. The hell kind of name was that?

“Bigs, this is Killer, he’s one of the new teachers for one of my mechanics classes.” You blinked, nodding at him, still stunned by how unbelievably hot he was.

“Killer, this is my older sibling, y/n.” Killer offered a small wave with a lazy smile that made your heart skip a beat and your body warm up. “‘S a pleasure. Heard a lot about you.”

You glared at your brother for a moment who shot his hands up in defense. “All good things, I promise.”

“Bullshit.”

He cackled, putting his hands back down. “You’re right.”

You felt your eye twitch, but you kept yourself in check. You looked to Killer. “You said you wanted to take on the challenge?” you mused, a devious glint in your eye as a grin spread across your face. You were going to absolutely obliterate him.

Killer matched your grin. “Absolutely. I’ve heard about your skills, so I figured I’d test the waters. I play a lot myself, actually.” He shrugged.

Kid spoke up. “They’re undefeated, so I’d proceed with caution.” Without looking away from you, Killer nodded. “No need. I think it’ll be fine.”

Now, who the hell did he think he was? He really had that much confidence that he thought he was going to beat you? Genuinely? You narrowed your eyes at him. You weren’t going to admit it, but his cockiness was insanely hot. Too bad you were about to humble the shit out of him. Nothing excited you more than being able to crush the dreams of the hopeful.

“Then take your place at the other side of the table.” You gestured.

He did as instructed and the game began. You started off strong, immediately sinking the first one. He tossed his ball and it bounced off one of them. “Oo, too bad. Sure it’s just a warm up, right?” you mused, grinning.

He just shrugged, sharing your grin. He didn’t seem to be worried at all in the slightest.

You decided to give him a fair shot, purposefully missing some to keep the game going. Some of his that spun around the inside of the cup, you could’ve pulled in time but you let sink.

“Stop doing that,” Killer said, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes at you as you missed another shot.

“Doing what?” You blinked. There was no way he caught on that easily. He’d never seen you play before, so how the hell would he know?

“You know what you’re doing.” You narrowed your eyes at him, putting a hand on your hip. “If that’s the way you want to be - fine. Don’t cry when I obliterate you.” You were pissed now. Who the hell did he think he was?

It wasn’t long before you knocked out most of his cups and he’d only gotten one or two of yours. He was about to toss when he paused. “What do I get if I win?” he asked, a mischievous look in his eyes.

You blinked, looking at the table. There was no way in hell this man was winning. It’d be a miracle. “If you somehow manage to make it back and win - I’ll give you the best head you’ve ever had,” you snorted, rolling your eyes.

“I could’ve went my whole life without hearing that,” Kid chimed from the sidelines, making a face. You just looked at him. “Sorry not sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t be in here with the grown ups then.”

“You’re only four years older than me, Bigs, so shut up.” You both were in your twenties, but it was your duty as the older sibling to always hang it above his head that you were, in fact, older.

You just snorted, rolling your eyes before you heard a ball sink into one of your cups. You blinked, looking to Killer across the table. Lucky shot. “You should be focused on me,” he said, a glint of something wild in his eyes. It made your heart race with excitement. “You want head that bad?”

“Okay, I’m out.” Kid threw his hands up, heading out of the room and you just laughed, but you didn’t take your eyes off the man across the table from you.

Killer just shrugged, the corner of his mouth curling a bit. “Maybe.” You didn’t know what he was playing, but it excited you.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how it happened, but next thing you knew, you both only had one cup left. He had been able to distract you during your throws to make you miss, pulled out your ball as it spun in the cup, and sink every single one of his ping pong balls into the cups. People had started gathering, watching as you desperately tried to save face. You had no idea what was going on. You’d never been smoked like this before.

“Were you fucking toying with me this whole time?” you said, feeling your eye twitch as you glared at the man before you. He just grinned, shrugging. “I did say that I play too.”

With that, he sank his ball into your cup. This was your last chance - redemption. If you made it into his cup, you’d be safe and the both of you would go another round. You took a deep breath, not looking at him. You knew if you did, you’d fuck up and end up missing your shot.

You went to throw but heard him make a noise, drawing your attention to him. He looked at you, winking and licking his lips right as you threw the ball. As you predicted, you fucking missed, costing you the game. The room was silent for a moment, distant conversations heard in others rooms and music thumping.

Then it erupted into cheers. “That was the greatest game I’ve ever watched!”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe they lost!”

“Finally! Someone who was able to knock them down a peg!”

“Was kind of hoping they would win. It’s weird having a different reigning champ now.”

The conversations and cheers blurred together as you just stared at the cup across from you. You couldn’t fucking believe you just lost. Three years and you’ve never lost. Not once. Ever since you started playing, you were just fucking good at it. And now that was all over.

You didn’t even process that Killer had moved from his spot until you felt someone hoist you over their shoulder. You were yanked back into reality as you were lifted into the air. “What the hell?!” You noticed that it was Killer who had tossed you over his shoulder.

“I believe someone owes me ‘the best head I’ve ever had’,” he mused as he started carrying you towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms upstairs. This motherfucker had been planning this all along and you couldn’t believe you fell for it - hook, line, and sinker. Fuck.

Dammit. You just had to say that, didn’t you? You grumbled. As you were carried, various people whistled and cheered. “Yeah! Get it, newbie!”

“Gotta pay up, y/n!”

“Taking your spoils from victory, huh?”

You covered your face with your hands, feeling your entire body heat up with embarrassment. You couldn’t fucking believe this. And now everyone knew what was going to happen next and you couldn’t function. You just had to open your big mouth. God, you were never living this down. This was like the walk of shame only before the shag not after.

You heard him enter a room and close the door before setting you down gently. You still had your face hidden, unable to look at him.

“Y/n?” You were silent, not wanting to say anything. You were beyond embarrassed at this point. You felt his hands on yours, trying to pull your hands away. You kept them firm against your face and you heard him sigh, his breath dancing across your skin.

“Y/n, I’m not going to make you do anything. That was all for show.”

“Bullshit.” You finally removed your hands from your face, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m sure you want nothing more than to put the mouthy brat in thei-” You stopped, noticing the concerned look on his face.

You blinked, processing. Oh, he was serious. You shook your head, pulling your hands away and pushing him towards the bed.

“Nah, I keep my word. So, you best get ready for the best blow job you’ve ever had.” He stumbled, plopping onto the edge of the bed in surprise. It took him a moment to catch up before he snorted. “I mean, I’m not going to say no to a free blow job, but we’ll see if it’s the best.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was using your competitiveness against you and it was working. How the fuck did he already have you figured out? You know what? What the fuck ever. You were going to give him the time of his life and make him beg for more.

You dropped to your knees right before the bed and in between his legs. “You know just how to get under my skin,” you grumbled.

“It’s not hard.”

You just stopped for a moment, hands on his pants. “I will absolutely rip your dick off.” He just stuck his hands up with a snort. “I fold. I’d like to keep my dick. Besides, how am I supposed to rail you otherwise?”

You blinked several times. Oh? “You think you’re gonna rail me, huh?” He just grinned and you narrowed your eyes. You didn’t know what fucking game he was playing but you were about to bite his entire dick off if he kept it up.

You made quick work of his pants, undoing the buttons and pulling him out. Your eyes widened slightly. Jesus fuck, he was huge. Possibly the biggest you’ve been with. That thing could tear you in half probably. You could feel your own body heat up, it only made you more excited.

With as hard as he was, you were sure he’s been hard for a while now. “Beer pong your version of foreplay?” you mused, pressing a kiss to the base of his cock. He let out a hiss through his teeth, leaning back on his hands. “Not really,” he ground out. If these minimal touches were enough to make him act like that, you weren’t sure he was going to last long at all.

You began to slide your hand up and down the length of his cock, earning a small groan from him. “Not really? Then what was it then?” A smug smile spread across your face as you dragged your palm over his tip before running your hand back down again. You could already see his chest heaving. He was already struggling.

“Probably something to do with the really cute hot head across from me,” he ground out. You gasped as he called you a ‘hot head’, squeezing the base of his cock, causing him to growl slightly as he tilted his head back. Oh, you liked that noise.

“A hot head, huh?” Was he wrong? No, but you weren’t about to let him just call you that. You let go of him, standing up. “I believe I told you to stop playing these games, Killer,” you mused, turning and acting like you were about to leave when you felt him grab your wrist, pulling you into his lap.

You gasped, feeling your face set ablaze. His lips pressed against your neck as your back pressed against his chest. You went to pull away but his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you in close. “Don’t be like that,” he cooed against you. You felt a shiver down your spine, your heart about to jump out of his chest. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” You had a small feeling he knew exactly what game you were playing, but he was going along with it. Probably seeing if you’d stick to your bit.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself in check and trying to keep your attitude the same. You cleared your throat. “F-Fine.” You were trying hard to keep yourself together and not fling yourself at him.

“I’ll let it slide. This is your last chance.” You were fighting to keep your breathing even as you felt him smile against your skin. God fucking dammit. He was impossible.

You pulled away from him again and he let you go this time as you dropped between his knees once more. Your face felt like it was on fire as you suddenly wondered if you reacted exactly how he had planned. Was he some evil mastermind? No, it wasn’t that.

Jesus fuck could your mind just shut up. It wasn’t that deep.

You took his cock in your hand once more, feeling it twitch with excitement. You looked up as he licked his lips, watching you. Again, your face felt like it was on fire under his intense stare but you shrugged it off, pressing your lips to the tip. You felt his body shift as he leaned back on his hands once more, slowly melting as you began to run your tongue down the side of his shaft.

One of his hands found its way into your hair, tugging at it slightly as you began to slide the entirety of his cock into your mouth. The deeper you took him - the harder he pulled, making you moan around him. The sudden vibration caused him to buck his hips, shoving himself down your throat rather suddenly.

Luckily for you, you didn’t really have a gag reflex, so you mostly just widened your eyes in surprise as you suddenly felt your throat stretch and your nose press against him. Fuck, you could probably reach your own climax just from giving him a blow job at this rate.

You slowly pulled off of him, making him groan lowly. You quickly found a rhythm and pace, beginning to bob your head and work his cock like the pro you were. This wasn’t your first rodeo sucking dick, but it surely was the biggest.

You just prayed you didn’t end up with lockjaw due to his size. That would be a nightmare; not to mention you’d die of embarrassment.

It wasn’t long before you felt Killer begin to roll his hips, pressing him further down your throat each time. “Fuck,” he breathed, panting heavily at this point. Honestly, he was lasting longer than you thought he would. You thought he would’ve finished the first time you shoved him down your throat, but he was still going.

With how much he was twitching and throbbing, you knew he didn’t have much longer anymore.

The hand in your hair suddenly grabbed you a bit rougher, keeping you in place slightly. Your eyes widened as you knew exactly what he was going to do next, so you relaxed your jaw and gripped his thighs as you braced yourself. His hips started thrusting much rougher now as he fucked the shit out of your throat.

You definitely were gonna feel that in the morning. Not that you cared because honestly, this was the best time you’ve had in a while. Shit, you might have to keep him around.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your own body heating up more and more. A coil was forming in your stomach, tightening with each thrust as you held onto his hips for dear life. Were you really going to finish just from this?

Part of you hoped that he wouldn’t be tapped out after this so you could keep going.

The man’s hips suddenly stopped as he shoved himself deep down your throat, releasing fully inside of you. It was enough to send you over the edge, moaning against him as you came yourself, making a mess of the pants you were wearing. Fuck.

Killer slowly pulled out of you, you carefully making sure you swallowed every bit of semen that he gave you as he did so. Once he was pulled out, you gasped for air. Both of you were panting; your head spinning rapidly, your body buzzing. Fuck, you hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

You felt him pull you up, kissing you hard and sloppy. Instantly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back, and moaned into him.

After a few minutes of a hard make out session, he pulled away from you. Both of you were still panting, but a little less so than before. “You still have it in you to keep going?”

You looked at him with surprise, but excitement. You had hoped he’d have enough juice to keep going. “Mm, maybe. How’d I do? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Gonna have to start calling you Sloppenheimer with how bomb that head was.”

You stopped, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Then you stood up, throwing your hands up. “Okay, I’m out.” Just as your brother had done earlier.

Killer laughed. “Wait, no!”

“No! Absolutely not! I can’t believe you said that!” You felt as he grabbed you around the waist pulling you back into bed. “That’s the dorkiest and dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!” you shrieked as he pinned you beneath him. You pouted up at him.

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. Should’ve saved that line for later.” He grinned, looking down at you. “You actually should never had said it because that was so lame.”

He just smiled at you. “You win. That was the best head I’ve ever had. Gonna have to keep you around,” he mused. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, shut up and just fuck me already.”

Killer just grinned, kissing you hard. You knew you were going to be in for a long night. And he was right, you were probably gonna have to keep him around.

#please enjoy my sloppenheimer line bc i think that is so fucking funny #also im like half asleep and also not sober once again so hopefully this ends up being okay lmfao #it's the only thing that's occupied my skull the last since the party #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #killer #killer one piece #am fics #beer pong #smut fics #also i will forever have kid call reader 'bigs' whenever they're siblings bc he's forever a little brother bc thats the energy he gives off

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mapileonxputellas · 1 year ago

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Pride and Joy (Mapi Leon x Reader)

Ok I just had to write something for this! Only small but I've hopefully got an Aitana or Alexia fic coming up next. 1.5k words x

It had been branded around in the media so many times over the past few years, you get asked the question all the time in press conferences and journalists all over the world have their opinion on it.

Does winning get boring? Does lifting trophies ever lose its appeal?

The answer, for you at least, was a resounding no.

Every year the league and the whole of Europe strengthened and every year you felt prouder and prouder of the team. As vice-captain to Alexia you had spent most of the year as captain as well as being the main striker and this season you definitely felt the most pressure on you.

At 2-0 down you never lost hope, you’d been a part of the team last year and you were determined to not let it be the same this year.

Alexia was one of your best friends and you liked to think the two of you worked well as a captaincy team, she was the bad (though not very bad) cop to your good cop. You went around all the players giving them a little pep talk before Bruna and Vicky bombarded you up in their own hug.

“Keep going Y/N. It’ll come.” Though no-one wanted to admit it, you all had favourites on the team and you had taken both Vicky and Bruna in as your little sisters.

Patri was probably your best friend in the squad and you couldn’t have been more pleased to see her get the recognition she deserves with the two goals, when the first one went in so quickly after half time you knew you were going to go and win it. This team never gave up and just like that you were winning.

You couldn’t believe it when the ball came to you. It seemed to spend hours at Mariona’s feet, bouncing around the box before falling at your feet. You’d spent all year waiting for this moment, from the disappointment of the Euro’s to the injury struggles around the team and all them thoughts went into you thundering that ball so hard there was never any chance of it not ending up in the back of the net.

In the blink of an eye the net rippled and you had no thought but to run into the corner and celebrate with the fans. You tried to take in the moment, all your teammates around you as the fans went wild in the stands but all you could do is connect eyes with the woman you loved the most in the world and share a smile together, your pinkies interlocking in the midst of all the craziness.

Before taking your place in the other half you quickly made your way over to the bench, finding Bruna and Vicky on the bench and giving them both a hug. “Thanks girls.”

Added time seemed to go on forever, the seven minutes felt like seven hours but then the final whistle went and it was even better than you could ever remember.

What made the celebrations even more special was celebrating it with Mapi, your wife. Affection between the two of you on the pitch was very limited, you may have an arm around each other at the end of some matches but today it felt different. The two of you shared an embrace at full time and you couldn’t help but press a small kiss on her lips, wishing you could savour the smile on her face forever.

“You’re fucking incredible Maria.” You told your wife. “This is incredible.”

“Third best day of my life.”

“Te amo.” You whispered.

“Te amo.”

The two of you had got together shortly after she moved to Barcelona and this was your sixth season playing with her. A lot had changed in that time, you’d got married, shared countless moments together but the biggest change was stood in the stands watching as Alexia lifted the trophy once again and shared the trophy around.

“I’m going to go and get her.” You whispered to your wife, pressing a subtle kiss to her cheek before making your way to the side lines where your families were both stood. You gave both your mother’s a quick greeting before your father passed over your bundle joy, the one thing that got you through the countless hard moments in football.

“Mama, won.” Your daughter cheered in your arms. “Ma?”

“Let’s go and get her.”

Your daughter, though shielded from the media as much as possible, attended as many games as possible with either of your families. Elena was just over 2 years old and she’d changed your life in every way but it made moments like this even more special. She was a regular at training sessions and team outings so it was no surprise that when the rest of the team saw you walking over with Elena in your arms they all broke into cheers.

After having her moment with Mapi, which nearly brought you both to tears, Elena was passed around the team like a hot potato. Everyone wanting their moment with the team’s unofficial mascot.

You were soaking in the moment with Mapi when someone from the TV station approached you both. “Can we grab you both for an interview?”

It wasn’t unusual for you to give interviews together, though you were both focused on the football you had given the occasional interview on your life together and both heavily campaigned for women’s and LGBTQ+ rights. You both agreed and left Elena in the capable hands of Caro, who was keeping an eye on her as Claudia tried to persuade her to make angels in the confetti with her, before making your way over to the interviewer.

“Y/N and Mapi thank you for joining us, congratulations. What was the mood like at half time when you were 2-0 down?”

“I don’t think any one of us thought we couldn’t win it, we were getting the chances but just missing that final touch or pass. We showed that class in the second half and I think we more than deserved the win.” You explained. “This is such an amazing team and we know we can beat anyone, I’m just so lucky I get to call this people my teammates.”

“Mapi she’s taken the team option, tell us about your wife with that winning goal.”

“I’m the lucky one, I get to call this one not only my teammate but my wife.” Mapi always had a way with words and you couldn’t help but blush as she wrapped her arm around your waist. “All she needed was that one moment and I knew when it fell to her it would end up in the back of the net.”

“How does this compare to two years ago?”

“It’s very different.” You answered. “That was our first time winning it and getting over that hurdle but it feels so much more satisfying winning it in front of our amazing fans. We couldn’t do this without them and I’m glad we could provide them with the win and a bit of entertainment.”

“We had to show our desire today, I think everyone can see how much this means to us and how much we wanted it. Sometimes that makes it just the bit more satisfying.” Mapi explained.

You were about to get the final question when you felt hands tugging at your shorts and looked down to find Elena between you both. In some situations you may have wanted to shield her but you wanted to celebrate as a family and Mapi must have felt that too and she picked her up onto her hip as you assured Caro it was alright.

“Plus we now have this one to celebrate it with.” Mapi added.

“What is it like having your daughter in the stands watching?”

“Incredible, we do it all for her. We’re so lucky to have this team with us and they support us every single day. Yeah I just want to do her proud and I hope we’ve done that today.”

“Elena do you have any words to say?” The interviewer pointed the mic at your daughter who in her usual confident self almost fell out of Mapi’s hands trying to reach for it.

“Barca, Barca, Barca.” She chanted making all the production crew and yourselves burst out in laughter as she recited the chant Mapi had been teaching her.

“Who’s your favourite player Elena?”

They were probably expecting her to say one of you two but you knew she wouldn’t do that. She went back and forward every week picking whoever had given her the most attention in training that week. “Tana.” She chose this time.

“Very good, thank you all.”

“Thanks.” You both said before walking off to find all your teammates behind you.

“I love you both.” You whispered placing a kiss on both of their heads. “Thank you so much.”

“No thank you.”

#mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagines #mapi leon imagine #woso imagine #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #espwnt x reader #espwnt #woso #woso x reader

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luimagines · 2 years ago

Note

How about a reader who seems to have no experience with a weapon, but come to find out is terrifyingly good with a bow.

Like not on Wild's level but definitely better than the majority of the chain.

Ooooooohhhh! I like that idea! Let's see if I can make something of it!

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You were beginning to suspect that the boy were getting annoyed with you.

Not that they were ever to say that to your face, but you didn’t want them to come to your rescue all the time... and you didn’t think that they wanted to either.

That being said, you had asked to learn self defense. Sky was the one who more or less made the Master Sword and he’s had proper training in how to use it. You thought he would have been perfect to teach you.

And for all intents and purposes, he had been more than willing to help. He was patient and kind and what he said and how he did it made a lot of sense. The things is, after being thrown to the ground over twenty times and you did try for multiple days- bordering multiple weeks- you gave up.

You footwork was screwy at best. Your grip on the sword was subpar and frankly, you weren’t close to being as psychically strong as Sky to throw him off.

The next option was maybe something magical. Legend and Warrior have their magic sticks and stuff. You didn’t know what you were doing but you figured it was easier to just throw things at the monsters and let it stick than have an actual strategy.

That was shot down. Instantly.

Warrior tossed you the fire rod on a whim and you nearly burned the whole forest down. So naturally, you’ve been banned from touching all, if not, most magical items.

The boys were more than happy to agree, especially those who don’t really fancy the magic stuff anyway.

You thought about a boomerang. A lot of the boys had those and it wasn’t bladed or magical (at least it didn’t have to be) so you thought that would work just fine.

Hyrule agreed and tried to show you the basics. And for the most part, it seemed simple enough. Until you nearly took Time’s head off in the process and you were afraid of touching it ever since.

At this point you were running out of options. While the boys seemed to understand your willing to learn, they didn’t want you get hurt. You suspect that they just didn’t want to get hurt in the process of you learning. Which stung a little, to be honest.

You had thought of one last weapon that you could learn and you knew just the person to ask.

“Wild.” You whisper. “I wanna ask you something.”

Wild pauses and nods, standing up to follow you away from prying eyes and eager ears. “What is it?”

“Please show me how to use the bow.” You bow.

Wild blinks and tilts his head. “We told you that we could-”

“Please?” You ask again, cutting him off. “I have to try.”

Wild sighs and shakes his head. With one hand, he unhooks his sheikah slate and takes out a simple wooden bow. “If anyone asks, you say you just found this.”

You nod and take it gratefully.

Wild also takes out some of his normal arrows, handing a few to you. “We have at least an hour before the others start to worry about the two of us being alone.”

You bounce on the balls of your feet. Feeling giddy, you start to move the bow in your hands and play with the strong, getting a feel for it.

Wild moves away and you see him set up a small tower of ice in one of the puddles nearby. You gape. How did he do that?

“Ok.” He says, hooking the slate back to his belt. “You see that? That’s your target.”

You notice it’s in the opposite direction of the group.

Wild comes in close and guides your hand to where they should rest on the bow. It feels right in your hands. You adjust your feet accordingly and steady yourself

Wild look pleased and hands you an arrow, setting it up against the notch and gently placing your fingers to hold it without injuring yourself. “Ok, there. Now aim and let go.”

You nod and look at the ice pillar in front of you. Pulling the arrow back again just like you’ve seen the boy do before, you let go.

It hits it.

You scream and jump in place. Your first reaction is you bring Wild into a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I did! Look! I actually hit it!”

He laughs. “Good job. Do it again.”

You bounce back and take out on the arrows Wild gave you. You set yourself up just like before and fire again.

You split the arrow in twain.

You don’t react this time. You stare in shock just as Wild runs over to inspect it. He gets a stupid grin on his face and comes back to punch your shoulder. “Do it again.”

So you do.

“Again.”

Again.

“O-hohoho.” Wild looks giddy. “We have to show the others this. They’re never going to believe it.”

You look at the bow in your hands in shock. “I am a god.”

Wild starts laughing. “Please do against Twilight. I need to see him go down.”

You grin and nod. Do actually think you’ll be able to do so? No, not really. But Wild’s energy is contagious and it’s nice to have something work as nicely as this has after so many failed attempts.

So when you eventually set up a few target and go off against Twilight- recreating your first attempt. Legend losses a bet, Sky gets his money back and Time lets you set up the opportunity to practice with the bow you’ve more of less stolen from Wild at this point.

Given the smile on the Champion’s face when he turns to mock Twilight for not being able to do what you did, you don’t think he minds one bit.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #looking back at this #this is probably *not* what you had in mind #but i started and realized i couldn't stop #so i hope this is ok!

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ravennaortiz · 5 months ago

Text

Summary: A trip to the mall with his twin girls has him self reflecting. As always my stories are 18+.

"Alright ladies lets get in and out" stated Opie to the little girls on either side of him as they entered the mall. He was thankful it was towards closing due to lack of crowds but also worried if he would have enough time to find a mothers day gift. Especially with the crankier the girls were getting by the second. Why had he thought it was a good idea to skip nap time? He thought to himself as they moved farther into the mall. Also why did I make such an ass of myself by refusing the stroller? Opie chuckled to himself when the answer popped in his head in your voice. Cause you are an ass duh. An inconsiderate one at that.

Without thinking he led his now whining girls into your favorite trinket store. He hated it. Never got what was so interesting to you about collecting fragile little things that just collected dust on shelves. Opie snorted to himself at that. You were a meticulous cleaner so they never collected dust. You were on top of the house shit, the kid stuff and even kept an active social life. Looking around as he absentmindedly soothed the girls he thought about how much he took you for granted. Now he was stuck with a pregnant Ima.

All you had wanted was to be respected and be loved. Treated like a human. All you did for him and he still couldn't keep his dick out of random women. You had stayed in Charming for him, gotten used to the club, had his kids even though you hadn't wanted to be a mother. He frowned as he thought about how he had talked you into it, getting you pregnant was a desperate attempt on his part to keep you here. What had it gotten him? His little girls being raised by another man and the woman he loved being worshipped like the goddess she was.

"Can I help you find something?" inquired the store clerk who had appeared beside him making him jump. Opie chuckled slightly. "I don't know. Got anything that says sorry I'm an idiot, couldn't be the man or father you needed me to be, who forgot mothers day for the third year in a row and that also says I don't blame you for finding someone better?" inquired Opie making the clerks eyes widen. "I'm not sure one gift is going to say all that" she replied giving him a sad smile.

Before Opie could reply his little girls were screaming Daddy and running off to the front of the store. "Girls" called Opie as he turned to follow before his eyes caught site of what they were seeing. "Great" muttered Opie as his eyes caught sight of the man who he considered Public enemy number one. "This is my time with them Manny" stated Opie firmly as he got closer.

"You're time ended almost three hours ago" replied Manny as he slowly blinked at Opie as he ushered the girls off towards EZ who he had brought with him. Opie clenched his jaw as his fists balled up. He was right you had told him they needed to be back at a certain time and like usual he had disregarded you. Jax had rubbed off on him in more ways than one he guessed. "If you can't respect her after all this time then I suggest you respect me. If you can't coparent with her and be the dad those girls need then you need to get out of their lives. You also need to stop trying to win her back. She is mine until she doesn't want to be of course.

Opie let out a breath as he nodded. He couldn't disagree with what Manny was saying. You three deserved better than what he was offering. Maybe he did need to step away for a bit. "Tell her I'm sorry" stated Opie as he turned and made his way out of the store.

3 years later

"You did good for the party" stated Manny as he sat next to Opie as they watched the girls in the bounce house castle. "Thanks. I appreciate you talking her into letting me have the party in Charming." replied Opie. "Giving me another chance at helping raise my little girls. Means a lot". Manny nodded as a hint of a smirk flashed across his face. "Of course. By the way they are staying with you for three weeks while we are in Cancun starting tomorrow" he added with a chuckle. "Should have known you had ulterior motives" laughed Opie as he sipped his beer.

Return to Series List

#ravennasmasterlist #opie winston #sons of anarchy #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #opie winston fanfiction #opie winston fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #RaisingGirlsSeries

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definitely-not-a-mew · 7 months ago

Text

Heyo y'all! SO I made a decision to do a lot of writing alongside art, as the way I started with this kinda,, was very draining for me!! SO without further ado, the part got a little long so under the cut it goes!

The howling of the blizzard slowly fades away as the ragtag trio make their way into the cave. The light from the outside gets dimmer and dimmer, leaving them in the damp, chilly darkness. "So... whats our game plan here?" All eyes turned to the two glowing white pinpricks in the darkness. They flitted out of existence and reappeared as Egg blinked. "Can you not do that? It's.. creepy." The Mew shuffled in the darkness, cuddled up in the dirty labcoat they ended up stealing from Cole. "Do what?" it yawned blearily, flicking it's tail, not that anyone could see it. "Your eyes- they're just. Glowing. It's freaky." The two went back and forth about creepy caves, being tired, and glowing eyes for a bit, right up until they bumped directly into an obstacle. A.. strangely warm and fuzzy obstacle. "Is.. this some kind of cave moss?" The fuzzy wall began to shift, and tiny sparks of flame lit up the darkness. Several balls of flame appeared in the air, floating around the area and illuminating the cave. It became Very apparent the three had run into a pack of Arcanine, who were not happy to have been woken up. Egg, Cole, and Cheese all began to back up slowly, staring wide eyed at the large dog Pokemon. "We should probably go-" Several barks echoed through the cave, bouncing off the walls and ceiling, surrounding the three in a cacophony of noise and flame. Within seconds the pack had them surrounded, growling and nipping at them when they moved even slightly. "I don't suppose they'll let us go?" "Does the growling suggest they will??? Or perhaps is it the jaws snapping that screams 'mercy' to you?" Cheese shot a glare at the purple Mew. "They're Pokemon right? You're a Pokemon too, just. Talk with them or something." "Yeah okay, like they'll listen to me-" All at once, the growling stopped, leaving only the sound of crackling pyre. The circle around them parted as a very large Arcanine with several scars on it's face stepped towards them. "Why are you here." she growled menacingly, showing off her numerous fiery teeth. She seemed ready to rip them to shreds at a seconds notice.

The three could only stare as the huge dog impatiently waited for an answer. After what felt like forever, Cole finally spoke. "Ah- I'm sorry. We didn't mean to disturb you or your family, we were lost and caught in a blizzard. We didn't know anyone was in here- we just escaped from somewhere and needed a place to stay." The scarred Pokemon paused for a moment, thinking this over. "How odd. You aren't here to hunt us then?" she pondered aloud. Cole vigorously shook their head in response.

The blaze in her mouth puttered out swiftly as she approached, deeply sniffing the human. "You smell of chemicals and.. like an old friend. You lack the necessary tools to capture us. What a strange creature. I believe your story." The fires in the air dimmed down to a cozy glow as the ring of Arcanine relaxed around them, and calmly dispersed. Growlithe could be seen a few paces deeper into the cave, huddled into a puppy pile. "You may stay here until the blizzard calms down. If you truly are lost, then I know a dear friend who may be able to help. If you are lying, I'm sure you know the consequences." She punctuated her declaration with the snapping of her teeth. The regal leader stepped back and padded over to her pack, turning around a few times before laying down once more. "That was... terrifying." said Egg, who was quivering and balled up as far as they could go into the labcoat. "How did you know what to say? I thought we were dead meat when you started talking." Cheese hissed out, still scrambling for their breath. "I... don't know, I think she just wanted to make sure we weren't a threat I guess? In any case she said we could stay until its safer outside... so I guess it all worked out." Cheese stared at Cole like they had grown a second head. "Okay.. I'm not going to ask how you know that. As long as we aren't dog food or freezing." Cole scooted over and picked up Egg, pulling both of the Pokemon towards the heap of sleepy fur. They propped themself up against a wall close the pack of Pokemon, holding Egg close to their chest. Cheese decided to curl up right next to them, shutting their eyes and slowing their breathing. Eventually Cole drifted off into an uneasy sleep, lulled by the warmth of the cave and the soft, rhythmic breathing the Pokemon nearby.

#pokemon #morgrem #trainersona #mew #arcanine #art #artist #OmeletteAU #OCEgg #OCCole #OCCheese #mythart

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rowniebow · 2 years ago

Note

A newt x male reader, maybe a fic or headcannons different ways of how their cuddles

cuddles | newt scamander x male!reader

pairings: newt scamander x male!reader

cw: hopefully loads of fluff!

word count: 1.1k+

an: late answer to a request as always.... thank you for requesting though !!! i appreciate you so much!

⭒

newt isn't the biggest cuddler, but gosh, for you he would hold you for days.

it took him a while to warm up to it: your arms around him and your fingers between his whenever you got the chance. the first time he realized you were an established cuddler was a couple months into your official relationship after a long day of chasing after dragons.

"newt," your mumble escaped the feathers of the pillow your head was smushed into and found his ears.

he turned his head away from the sleep shirt he was about to slip over his bare torso. "yes?"

"come lay with me," your words were almost indiscernible.

"i need to go write down some stuff about the dragon's from today first-,"

"please?"

your eyelids drooped over your tired eyes. your limp limbs fell over the bed you two shared (although it seemed to be strictly yours with how little newt was in it). your arms and legs were ships in the sea of blankets. and your sonorous raspy plead wouldn't let him deny you.

he slipped the sleep shirt on and slowly made his way towards you.

you turned on to your back, grabbing his hand and pulling him down to lay with you. newt stiffly laid where he had fallen. he laid his head on your slow rising chest. his legs tangled themselves between yours. his hands balled themselves into fists and sat at his side.

"relax, sweets." the whisper left a smile on your lips. "i won't bite, i promise."

you arms wrapped around him. your left thumb ran through the canyon of his spine. your right hand snuck it's way over his tense hand. you massaged relaxation out of it and held his hand comfortably firm as to refuse him to let go.

newt only blinked at the blurry folds of your clothes that were so near to his eyes. he could practically see the individual threads and their journey throughout your clothes.

his eyes traveled up to your smiling features. you appeared to be the most relaxed he had ever seen you. no clenched jaw or squeezed eyes or scrunched eyebrows. only a soft grin and naturally falling lids that melted him.

he finally let out a breath he had been holding and did his best to relax his tight muscles. he wrapped his free arm around your waist. his hand found warm comfort under your torso. your heart beat bounced slowly in his ear. exhaustion seemed to roll over him like a wave as you pulled the blankets over you two.

you were aware that newt wasn't the fondest of hugs and snuggles, so you denied yourself whenever you had the urge to pull him into your arms and whisper comforting things in his ears.

however, the longer you two spent time together, the more often you indulged yourself.

it was a lot of little things at first.

coming into newt's workspace while he was working after a day of you two being apart. you would wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek and the crook of his neck.

he would always be startled initially. he'd be stiff and sit as straight as possible. but after a glance at your tired smile he would relax his shoulders. "hello," his greeting would be quiet and raspy from working for so long and not talking to anyone.

"hi," your smile would leak through the vowel and infect his hypothalamus. the warmth of your words would brush over the hairs on his neck and make them stand as straight as he sat.

and the more you indulged yourself and he saw how happy it made you, the more he was tempted to enjoy it and initiate.

it would be the smallest of actions. ones that most wouldn't think twice about. but knowing newt so well, these "small" actions were giant leaps that brought warmth to your cheeks every time.

you would be sitting at the table, eating a bowl of oatmeal that had been drenched in brown sugar and berries. your eyes would be trained on the words and moving pictures on the daily prophet from that morning.

newt would come out from the hallway, rushing around to find his things before heading off to work or to search for a creature last minute.

getting up to wash your dish, he would stop you, wrapping a single arm around you (his other hand was full of his case and coat and dozens of other things he'd need in the day), wishing you good bye and a good day at work. a drunken-on-dopamine smile would sew itself into your features at the action as he rushed out the door.

and he always, always held you when you were down. he soon found it to be the only thing that really calmed you down.

he'd find you with a crease between your brow, shoulders as high as they physically could be, and tear stained skin.

he'd linger for a moment, taking in your distraught figure. "what - what happened?"

your sobs of nothing but random incoherent syllables smashed together would throw the option of words out the window, bringing him to wrap his arms around you and sit while you cried into his shoulder.

your arms would eventually make their way up the mountain of his body and make themselves comfortable on the cliff of his hips.

he holds you tight as your heart beat slowly calms and your gasp return to small hiccups. he would drag (practically carry) you over to your shared bed. his fingers would fly through your hair and his thumb would rub circles into your skin. he would lay with you until sleep finally found you and gave you the much needed rest you deserved.

regardless of his reactions and his general discomfort with physical touch, newt finds warmth and comfort in your touch specifically. despite his ever stiffening muscles, he loves when you brush his cheeks with your fingertips or subconsciously drew shapes into his forearms.

and he loves being able to find the confidence to hold you, which is a rare occasion for him. you love holding him and he loves being held by you.

but the moments where he can have an arm around your shoulder or waist were his special pleasures. times when you rested your head on his chest and let your eyes fall shut to the sound of his heart stuck out to him the most because of the rarity.

and you had to admit, you loved them a bit more as well.

⭒ taglist ⭒

@djmalik52 @garlicforthewin @armand0alg0 names that would not come up are bolded

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onboardsorasora · 1 year ago

Text

Enchanted AU: Christmas

Of course we had to get a special banner for the season :)))) I have a little bit written so I'm working on figuring out a proper posting schedule. I'll release that as soon as I have it.

Part 1 | Part 14

Part 15

It seemed that after getting confirmation that Christmas plans were a go, Daniel was much brighter. He was fluttering around the flat murmuring comments to Sassy who sat snugly in his hold. He would then pause and listen before fluttering off somewhere else. Max watched them tensely at first, mentally reminding Sassy of their pact and secret. He only calmed down by the second day when he seemed that Sassy indeed hadn’t spilled the beans.

It was now the fourth day and Max was used to the flurry of activity that Daniel seemed to be creating. He’d spent the day yesterday locked up on his sim so that he wouldn’t sit and watch Daniel float about. Daniel had also been spending a lot more time on his phone, and then complaining that he needed to charge it more often and ‘what was the point’. It had taken all Max’s energy to refrain from pointing out that just because Daniel didn’t find the need for the device before didn’t mean it wasn’t working.

But either way, Daniel was on his phone more. Speaking with Grace, Michelle and his nephew Issac before calling Sophie and sitting on the phone with her for a while.

Today though, today Max was confused and more than a little impressed. He had woken up to singing, which wasn’t unusual by any stretch. But there was something different about this song. Max took a sip of his morning shake and stared into his living room. Jimmy and Sassy were walking around with little aprons on their waists, it was adorable. He grinned.

Yesterday Daniel had asked him if he would be home, and told him it would be cleaning day. Max had offered to book his usual cleaning service then shrugged when Daniel declined. He’d not thought anything of it since. He did, however, ask if there was anything Daniel needed him to do and Daniel had merely said that he had already figured it out. Now, Max was wondering if maybe he should have prodded a little bit more and asked a few more questions.

Daniel was still singing, but Max couldn’t understand the words. He was glowing a little bit and the air felt charged with… something. There was an inaudible pop, the kind you felt in your ears when you went to a higher altitude. Max faked a yawn to get rid of the feeling and almost dropped his shake at what he saw.

There were small balls of floating light. They looked similar to sparkles at the end of well..sparklers. The wand-like fireworks that the boys love to play with. Sassy got close to one and sniffed it curiously, it bobbed over her before bouncing away. There were about ten of them in total and they hovered close to Daniel.

“Ok everyone, we know what to do.” Daniel sang, his smile was joyous and his eyes were a little wide with disbelief and a little pride. Daniel clapped his hands twice and the lights scattered. Jimmy took off, following the largest one into Daniel’s bedroom. Max looked between the still singing Daniel who had started to fold the blanket that usually lived on the back of the couch, to the light ball that was bobbing in and out of all his trophies. Was that a new shine on each one?

He placed his almost empty cup on the countertop and went down the hallway to the bedrooms. His sim room remained untouched, the door locked. But his bedroom was a small flurry of activity. The bed was being made by two baubles and another was placing a few scattered things back in his closet. Max blinked in surprise, completely taken aback. He walked to the doorway of Daniel’s room to see something similar happening. Jimmy sat on the floor by the door watching as the blinds were closed and… dusted? Daniel’s bed was spread and his laundry was tucked away into the basket.

Max wandered slowly back to the living room. His home was being cleaned by magic? His home was being cleaned by magic. Is this what Daniel meant about cleaning? He rubbed at his eye with the heel of a palm, the metal of his bracelets clinking at the movement, then walked back into the kitchen where he seemed to be mostly out of the way. He went to grab his previously forgotten glass only to pass through air. His glass was gone, even the ring of condensation was missing from the marble countertop. Max blinked, there was a bauble in the kitchen, he watched as his now clean and dry glass floated to the open cabinet and the door closed.

He grabbed his phone and opened the groupchat with Lando and Alex and did the only thing he could think of. His brain felt fried. It was too early for this. Daniel is cleaning my apartment with magic?

Lando was the first to reply with a simple; ‘yeah that checks out.’

Which…he wasn’t wrong. Daniel was a magical being, and Max kinda forgot that moving tattoos and talking to animals weren’t like normal human things.

At least he could trust Alex for levity, ‘at least you don’t have to call the cleaning service this week’

And yeah, that was also true. Bright sides and all that.

Max realized belatedly that Daniel’s singing had stopped. He looked up and around to see if there were any more changes and to maybe get a glimpse of one of the lights again. The apartment was spotless. It wasn't as if it was desperately in need of a cleaning before, but there was something impossibly squeaky clean about it now that Max couldn’t quite put his finger on. He knew it was the magic component but it was still odd to see something so fantastical used for something so domestic.

He stepped into the living room and looked around at the morning light glistening off of his trophies and other reflective surfaces. Even the air smelt cleaner, it was like waking up in the mountains after a heavy snowfall. Fresh.

Daniel was nowhere to be found though, not in the cat nest, not on the balcony. Max turned to the couch and a fond smile settled on his lips. Daniel was curled on the couch, asleep. Jimmy curled up on the arm of the couch by his head and Sassy was laying loaf-like on the back of the couch. She moved though, when Max noticed her. She walked off of the folded blanket then nosed it in Max’s direction. He could take a hint.

Lifting the blanket carefully, he unfolded it then laid it over Daniel’s sleeping figure. Max wondered if he’d ever used that much magic before, if that's what he needed ‘Jessie’ and ‘Rii’ for. Max watched him for a few moments, the rise and fall of his chest and the soft snores. Before he went to inspect the rest of the space. Everywhere was clean; the bathrooms and the other guest rooms.

Everywhere except Max’s sim room, he opened the door to find the space untouched, everything was exactly where he left it. His WDC trophy/book end/fake lamp that sat on his red bull fridge was still vaguely tarnished from not being polished often. The room also smelt the same– completely different from the rest of his flat. And for that Max was extremely grateful.

He settled himself in the chair and turned on the system, ready to kill some time.

Part 16

#maxiel #max/daniel #enchanted au #enchanted au christmas #disney princess dan

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felice-jaganshi · 8 months ago

Text

Alastor X OC

His Pet

Chapter 4

It was finally Extermination day. Zariah was given a prototype “invisibility suit” Carmilla was still working on as a test run. It made almost her whole body invisible by refracting the light away from her, but it wasn't perfect. In shadowy places she was fully visible, as there wasn't enough light to “bounce away”.

She ran around healing every demon who got hurt, until she herself got stabbed in the shoulder. She immediately shrieked in pain and ran away! The suit being damaged broke it completely, so she booked it into the hotel, straight for the radio tower at full sprint.

After a while she stopped crying, the pain had gone numb by now. She was just shivering quietly in a corner when someone entered the room, singing.

She found a little corner and curled up into a ball, covering herself with her tails and sobbing. She couldn’t really do this! She was a coward! But… how could she abandon her friends? She should heal herself and head back down there! But what if Alastor needed her? Her energy was getting low, and this was the best place to wait for him. She decided this was where she'd stay, and wait for alastor to come rescue her.

‘Great Alastor altruist died for his friends’, sorry to disappoint, that is not where this ends!

“This place reeks of death, There's a chill in the air,

And I barely escaped being killed by a hair.

I'm hungry for freedom like never before.

The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor.

Once I figure out how to unclip my wing, guess who will be pulling all the strings!”

Zariah hesitantly crawled out of her hidey hole while he laughed maniacally.

“Al… you're hurt.” Her ears were folded against her head, and she reached out towards him. He suddenly stopped, realizing she was there.

“You… you heard all that, didn't you?” His smile was wide and his eyes filled with a dangerous rage.

She nodded slowly, “I want to help you Al, you're my friend. No matter what, it's you and me.” She stood up all the way holding out both her empty hands to him, even as she was bleeding from her own shoulder.

His smile twitched. “My dear, if you really have any healing energy left, why haven't you used it on yourself?” He didn't trust this, she could have an angelic blade hidden somewhere!

She smiled, “I was saving my powers for you, like I promised. I wanted to make sure you were okay before wasting my powers on myself. It's not a lethal wound. Just hurts alot.” He then noticed how red and puffy under her eyes were. She had been crying, and a lot from the looks of it.

“Quite the pain tolerance you have then.” He complimented.

“Only for myself, please Al, let me heal you. I hate seeing you bleed.” She didn't step closer, but tried to will him to move with her eyes. He sighed and stepped closer hesitantly, only getting just barely close enough for her to place a hand on his chest. She closed her eyes and focused her power on him. It felt warm, and comforting. Like a warm blanket fresh from the wash. Like his mother's hugs. He blinked in confusion, now why was he thinking of something that specific at a time like this?

When he was all healed up, she pulled back her hand, “there all better.” She looked unsteady on her feet. “Huh, room's spinny…” she then collapsed, Alastor catching her before she could fall far.

“Rest now, darling. You've certainly earned it…” He smiled tenderly at her, he had made a good deal with this one… but now he needed to make sure she understood not to tell anyone about his secret.

They had started to rebuild the hotel, so he placed her in his room to rest. He wrapped up her wounds, and who could fault him if he tasted some of her blood? Angels taste Divine, pun intentional!

He then locked the door and left her there to join in the song downstairs.

After everything settled down, and night had fallen, Alastor brought a tray of food to his room to feed his captive.

Zariah was still sleeping and purring as she held his pillow in her arms. He found it both cute in its childishness, yet off putting because it was his pillow she had wrapped herself so cozily around.

He sat down the plate of food on the table he had in there, then went to gently shake her shoulder, “Zariah, it's time for dinner.” She gave a curious sound as she slowly opened her eyes, then turned her head and smiled at him. “Oh, hey Al.” She then sat up and looked around, “where am I?”

His smile was soft today, “Somewhere I could be certain you'd be safe to recover undisturbed, my room.”

Her eyes went wide and she looked around more closely. “Oh, I passed out, didn't i?”

He nodded, “yes you did, and I'm very curious what you remember from before that.”

She focused on his face and thought back. “You were hurt, so i healed you.”

“And before that?” His eyes narrowed.

She nodded, “nothing anyone could get out of me no matter what they do.” She hoped that's the answer he was looking for. She was loyal to him and wanted to prove it. Alastor reached out and pet her head, scratching his claws behind her ears.

“Good girl.” She purred in delight, and his hand felt strangely warm as she did. Like when she healed him before.

“Hm, you give the best scratches! It feels nice.”

“Alright, my pet. Dinner is ready.” He moved out of her way. She got up and went to his table. “Oh? I'm your pet now?” She giggled and began eating.

“Does that not upset you? The idea of belonging to me?” He smirked at her. She blushed, choosing to finish her food before answering.

“I… no, that doesn't bother me at all.. it'd actually make me really happy. But…” she looked a little sad.

#ace alastor #alastor #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor's pet #aroace alastor #hazbin hotel #platonic alastor x reader

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months ago

Text

Whumpuary Day 15-16 & 25-26

Prompt: “You look awful.” | “I’m fine.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Depictions of illness; vomiting; allusions to symptoms of stomach virus

A/N: Daryl’s human so humans with stomach bugs experience icky symptoms. There are allusions to those but nothing gross.

You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, your lip securely tucked between your teeth in anticipation. Carol chuckled behind you and patted a hand between your shoulder blades.

“I think you’re actually vibrating, Y/N.” She laughed a little louder when you beamed at her before it softened into something a bit gentler. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone other than Judith so excited to see Daryl come back. Well, and me but that’s a given.”

“It’s been two weeks. I’ve been going out of my mind!” You made a crazy gesture with your hands and then clasped them together again and continued bouncing.

“How does he do around all this…energy?” You went still and blinked at her, a great many questions swirling in your gaze. “No, no. It’s not a bad thing! You’re good for him. Great for him. I just wanted to make sure he’s not being a total grump and raining on your parade.”

Pursing your lips, you tilted your head. “No, not really. I mean, at first it was like he didn’t know what to do when I would do a cartwheel through the living room. He just stared a lot. But he smiled!” Daryl always smiled for you. In the beginning, it was only in private. All of it was. He was wary of you.

You had lived in Alexandria since the beginning. Knowing now what you didn’t know then, he was justified in holding back, keeping secrets. When you had proven to be just the average person trying to survive, it was like a switch had flipped. He’d show up at your house unexpectedly. Sometimes you’d find him just sitting on the porch steps, having a cigarette. Other times, he’d actually knock and ask you to go for a walk. He even taught you how to defend yourself with and without weapons. He wouldn’t teach you to hunt though. Always said you’d scare off the game.

Things evolved from there. It started small. Daryl wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed public displays of affection. Well, he wasn’t before you came along. He would still blush and duck his head if you kissed him in public. You were always the one to grab his hand but he never pulled away. Hugs were okay but he’d yelp (in a very manly way of course) when you’d grab or swat at his ass.

It had been nearly two years and you couldn’t imagine life without the grumpy, quiet bowman.

“I’m glad he found you.” Carol wrapped her arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head when you laid it against her. You were about to say something else when the shout came to open the gates.

You jumped up and down, jostling the woman beside you but even as she laughed, you paid her no mind. Your eyes followed the man on the motorcycle. He rode through faster than he should have, something you always scolded him for but he’d only scoff at you.

“You’re back!” You leapt on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, just as his boot touched the ground after dismounting the bike. “I missed you!”

“Ain’t been tha’ long.” He spoke into your shoulder. His arms held you steady but if he had let go, he would have found you securely latched to his front.

“It’s been two weeks! That’s the equivalent of forever!” You pulled back and pouted at him, your lip jutting out further when he lowered you. “You hurt? Bring back all your parts?”

“Nah, M’good.” He answered tiredly. Your eyes narrowed when you realized how exhausted he actually looked; something off by the way he was even just standing still.

“I think we should get you to bed and not for the fun stuff. Not yet anyway.” You stepped around him and retrieved his bag and crossbow, smacking his hand when he reached to take them from you. “I got it. Come on.” He was grumbling something about stubborn woman as he walked just beside you.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, making certain to be discrete. Daryl would never openly show vulnerability, especially outside your home. He rarely let it be seen inside your home. At the very moment though, you weren’t sure if he realized he was doing it. His hand was clutching his stomach over his vest, fingers digging into the leather until his knuckles were white. His face was neutral but the pallor to his skin wasn’t something he could hide.

You balanced his bag on your shoulder and opened the door for him, smiling cheerfully when he scowled at your special treatment. “Go on upstairs. You want a shower?”

“S’tha’ yer way’a tellin’ me I stink?”

“Yes, sir.” You noticed his hand had left his abdomen, but was flexing at his side. “You want something to eat? There’s some leftover venison stew that I could—”

The archer blanched, any color that was left present drained from his face while his throat visibly worked to swallow convulsively. Oh shit. Before you could even put down your burden, he dashed from your sight and into the downstairs bathroom, the sounds of his retching painful to hear.

You placed his bag on the floor and the crossbow against the wall, walking quietly to the bathroom door. When you peeked around the doorframe, Daryl was on his knees, arms draped around the toilet seat with his forehead resting on his hands. He was no longer heaving but still spitting into the water below.

You knew what his reaction would probably be but you couldn’t act like you didn’t care. “You okay?” The archer didn’t look up. He stretched out a leg and kicked the door shut. You had the good sense to not be in the way of the wooden barrier.

You were expecting wounds and bruises, not stomach ailments. The medical supplies you had set up in the en-suite bathroom would remain there. You hadn’t seen much of him before he was sick and he could still have injuries that needed care. Now, you needed to add some fresh towels, clothes, and a basin of water with a cloth to put by the bed. You had some Tylenol from the infirmary, just in case he needed it for pain, not anticipating he’d probably need it for fever.

There were a few cans of chicken noodle soup that you could drain the broth from later, but for now, until the nausea passed, you went downstairs for a few bottles of water. You doubted there was any ginger ale in the pantry but if you were able to see Carol or she came for a visit, you could ask. There was no way you were leaving him for it.

Everything was set up, including the shower. You were hoping you could coax him in just to get him clean and comfortable. With a gentle knock on the door, you placed your forehead against it, wincing at the sounds coming from inside. Seemed like the toilet and sink were receiving his attention.

Definitely a stomach virus, but you’d have to ask about what he’d eaten the past few days to rule out food poisoning and other gastric ailments.

“Daryl? Are you okay?”

“Go ‘way.” The reply was gravelly and weak.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” You replied softly, promptly walking away from the door. He was going to be ultra embarrassed after that, so you had to handle things carefully. The last thing you or he needed was for him to try and run because he was ashamed of things he had no control over.

You set about cleaning up the kitchen, though it barely needed it. You kept everything spotless most of the time. Daryl was always out doing physical jobs while you helped with inventory or delivered meals to the elderly residents. He didn’t need to worry about the state of your home when he was able to be there.

It was about half an hour before you heard the toilet flush and the tap turn on. It ran for longer than usual. You assumed he was washing his hands and rinsing his mouth. His toothbrush was upstairs but you made a mental note to ask for two more to keep downstairs.

You were leaning on the kitchen island when he finally emerged. He was drenched with sweat, his face flushed from embarrassment or fever. Maybe both. His belt was still undone but his pants were zipped and buttoned. Poor guy looked like a wreck.

“Hey.” You called softly, earning his attention. “You look awful. Are you okay?”

He nodded, the movement jerky. “Thank christ fer indoor plumbin’.” He rasped, joining you on the other side of the island. He leaned forward and placed his forehead on the cool surface of the countertop with a sigh.

“Did you eat anything weird while you were out?” You circled the structure to stand by him and rub his back in slow, soothing circles.

The bowman rolled his head back and forth against the countertop. “Nah. Jus’ the regular expired canned shit we could find.” It made you sad to think that this was the norm now. Relying on food that was far past the date of recommended consumption.

“When did you eat last?” You rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles stiff and knotted.

“Yesterday afternoon. Wanted ta get back. Didn’ go lookin’ fer anythin’ today.”

Still could be food poisoning. You’d have to ask if anyone else was sick. “Let’s get you upstairs. Think you can shower?” Daryl straightened with a grimace before nodding. You met his gaze with a gentle smile, bringing up a hand to sweep the damp hair away from his eyes. “Come on then.” A hand on the small of his back gently urged him forward, his shuffling steps and unsteady gait giving him the appearance of a living walker.

You trailed behind him up the stairs, braced and ready in case he lost his balance, but the ascent was successful without any tumbling. The archer was shedding clothing before even reaching the bathroom, down to his jeans and socks by the time he was standing in front of the shower.

“Do you need me to stay?” It was a reluctant question. Daryl hated it when you hovered but he was sick and exhausted so it was an offer you had to give him.

“Nah. M’fine.” He was unzipping his jeans when you pulled the bathroom door closed behind you.

The shower began running moments later, so you busied yourself with grabbing your own pajamas, turning down the bed, and pulling a chair over to his side. As an afterthought, you placed the room’s small wastebasket there as well. The shower was still running when you heard the unmistakable sounds of another round of vomiting, your heart clenching at the painful noises.

“Daryl?” You called loudly enough for him to hear through the door and over the spray of water.

“M’…m’okay.” A low, strained answer from the other side.

With nothing else to do, you sat down on the end of the mattress to wait for him. The toilet flushed but the shower continued for several more minutes. There was a brief silence followed by a shuffle of clothing, and the sounds of him brushing his teeth.

When the door finally opened, he looked clean in his sweats and t-shirt but no less miserable. His hair was still damp, beads of water dripping from the ends. Even as undesirable as the situation was, it was hard not to take note of how normal he looked dressed like that. It was as if you were a couple before the end of the world, spending an evening at home in comfort and without fear. But the reality was that fear was always lingering. Always.

“Bedtime for you, mister.”

He couldn’t even manage to scowl at you properly, ending up with a tired frown dripping with resignation. He was slow to lower onto the bed and said nothing when you pulled the blankets over him.

“Anything need stitched or bandaged?” You asked, brushing his hair away from his face. There was always a warmth that crept into your chest when he didn’t flinch away from your loving touches.

“Jus’ a few bruises. Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” When you fixed him with a skeptical stare, he sighed. “Promise.” Daryl didn’t take that word lightly and never used it carelessly.

“Okay, try to sleep.” You perched yourself on the chair, noticing he couldn’t be bothered to care. He turned onto his side, facing you with his legs drawn up slightly. His stomach was surely angry and cramping, muscles tired from heaving on top of feeling nauseous. There was no hesitation in your hand resting just below his knee, rubbing the area in what you hoped was a comforting gesture.

He was asleep within moments.

Watching him grimace and tense without waking, you let your mind build scenarios and how you would handle them. If Rick came knocking with requests of the archer, you’d kindly tell him to get bent. If Carol came over, you could get her to fetch some things for you that would help keep him comfortable while he recovered. If he continued vomiting and couldn’t keep down the water at the very least, you’d need to leave long enough to grab Denise.

Daryl woke suddenly, lurching over the side of the bed to retch into the wastebasket you had been smart enough to grab earlier. There was nothing left but acidic bile to bring up but it sounded no less brutal. You could do nothing but keep his hair out of the way and rub his back. There was a moment of consideration. Maybe if you could alert Denise, she would have something for the nausea.

That train of thought was interrupted by the hunter shakily pushing himself back up only to sag back against his pillow.

“Sucks.” He mumbled, eyes closed. “Ain’t been sick since…S’been a long time.”

You were gently rubbing his stomach which he either didn’t notice or it felt nice so he allowed it to continue.

“It won’t last forever.” You whispered, watching as he dozed off again.

He was still resting comfortably when the knock came on the front door downstairs. Reluctantly, you rose from the chair, taking just another second to brush Daryl’s hair away from his eyes. He mumbled something, turning his head away, but remained asleep. You wanted to be quick.You just weren’t willing to leave him alone for long.

“Hey!” Carol greeted with that gentle smile of hers. After all she’d been through, even with her apprehension about settling there in Alexandria, she was able to keep that kindness. Especially when it came to Daryl.

“Hey.” You said, turning to look anxiously at the stairs.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Daryl?” When you turned back to her, the smile was gone, replaced with growing concern.

“He’s asleep. I need a favor. He’s sick. Could you grab a few things for him? Anything he might be able to keep down.” The other woman was already nodding. “Maybe put a bug in Denise’s ear in case she has anything for nausea.”

“Is he alright? Really?” Carol was leaning closer toward the doorway. It was obvious she wanted to go to him.

“Yeah, he’s okay for now. He hasn’t thrown up in an hour or so but when he first got back…” You trailed off, looking back at the stairs again. “Could you please do all that for me? Then maybe come upstairs and see him? I know he won’t want anyone else seeing him like this. But you and me? We don’t count.” You smiled, knowing it was true. Carol and yourself were the only people Daryl was fully comfortable relaxing around.

“You got it. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.” You watched her swiftly descend the porch steps before closing the door and nearly sprinting up the stairs. The bowman was still sound asleep when you returned to the bedroom. He still looked pale but there was no fever, no signs of dehydration just yet.

You made yourself comfortable in the chair, drawing up one knee to rest your chin on it. You’d be his silent sentinel until he was better.

Whether he liked it or not.

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doingstufftime · 6 months ago

Text

The blue moon filled Smarfy’s entire vision with its ethereal light. She blinked, still in disbelief of herself being here. The ‘Picture CapturerTM’ - as she had dubbed her creation, was working perfectly as expected. She had so many ‘captures’ of various different angles and locations of the moon. Soon, when she travels there, she’ll have a lot of material to make the first map - unless the Moon people have already made one. Or she could sell the ‘captures’ to people that never got to see the blue moon - which was her whole village, if she wasn’t mistaken. Either way, she had some sick compositions and had achieved a large part of her goals.

Going immediately up here, in one of the furthest and tallest rooms in the castle, had turned out to be a great idea. Smarfy hadn’t seen anyone else wander this far, which was ideal. Largely in part to the fact she’d never been invited, but also any distractions would be annoying when she was so focused on this. Smarfy scanned her collection of captures one more time. Is this enough? She thought. Then sighed, and prepared another piece of card.

Speaking of distractions - she had tried to ignore it, but now that she was nearly done, Smarfy was realizing how hungry she was. Perhaps not eating for two days before this ball out of anxiety hadn’t been a good idea. Perhaps.

But now she had to deal with the fallout, and her stomach was not happy with her decision making. Smarfy wished she could just tell it to wait until she snuck to her hideout, but stomachs apparently didn’t listen to common sense. It didn’t help that they were clearly eating down there, because the smell was entrancingly good and seriously, why was this ball so fancy? To be fair, it was working in her favor, but it also kinda wasn’t at all.

Smarfy bounces on the balls of her feet, cursing herself for even thinking about this. Now she was imagining all the different kinds of food that must be there, better than her own musty crusty bread and plarefruit. Maybe even better than her mother’s food, which was surprisingly easy to imagine when she could smell it, no offense to her mum.

Finally, the capture was completed, and she carefully takes it out of the device, making sure the ink has completely dried out. A little moon just there, in her hand. Beautiful, she thought, placing it in a pile of 16 other identical photos. She had at least 10 of every angle.

Okay, maybe this is enough.

And then the forbidden thought.

Should I take some food as well?

____

Sometime between her last thought and this one she must’ve blacked out, because all of a sudden she was standing at the far door of the feast hall, staring at the sheer amount of food piled onto the tables. Tables that looked like they were made out of gold.

She barely even noticed as she stepped closer, staring at all the beautiful platters, with mouthwateringly roasted porknuffs, patneys, and even beantans. Salads, snack trays, sauces, wines, beers, breads, other things. Smarfy can only recognise about 10% of the food, the rest a wonderful mystery. A potential investigation.

Smarfy feels like a mouse about to eat the cheese from a mousetrap. She needs to leave, because if she stays too long she’ll bring too much attention to herself and reveal the fact she wasn’t invited. Her dress, her stature, it all looked out of place here. Thankfully she’d hidden the Picture CaptureTM safe outside beside her exit, so it wasn’t like she had a suspiciously large bag to make her stand out even more. Still, it was bad. And she was tempted. Really tempted.

She glances around at the people surrounding her. There were 5 musicians with various instruments Smarfy couldn’t recognise playing pleasant music in the corner. So many people in fancy clothes. A lot looked already drunk or tipsy. Some were dancing in the dancing area in the middle of the hall, others engaging in conversations. Others alone like her.

One caught her eye, the person's eyes momentarily flashing with recognition before they looked away. Suspicion narrowed Smarfy’s eyes. Had they seen her on the tower? When she was sneaking on? Sometime before that?

Smarfy decided it was probably fine. She was not panicking at all. Nuh uh.

____

In the end, Smarfy had stuffed her purse with various random foods, not even bothering to be discreet except for making sure nobody was looking. Hopefully they really hadn’t.

Then she had downed at least three shots of straight vodka because she could (and the anxiety was kind of getting to her again,) almost throwing them up straight after because of the foul taste. Finally, after that, she left.

…To the bathroom.

What am I doing? Smarfy thought, her hands shaking as she washed her hands. She made a delayed flinch as a person seemingly dropped right beside her out of nowhere.

“Tsup. Lit ball, aint it?” the person - a woman in her 20s slurred.

What is this? A college party? Why are we calling it “lit”?

“I s'pose,” Smarfy answered. Her tongue felt like an uncooperative wet sponge.

“Lit,” the woman said.

Smarfy dragged her hand through her hair and sighed.

_______

AN: Smarfy's not really having a good time, but at least she likes the food? I've found through trial and error that the easiest way for me to write something is making it less serious, so that's why it's kinda funky. ╭( ๐_๐)╮

#blue moon ball #bmb writing #day 5

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